Chapter Eight #2
“I could get used to this,” Preston murmured, tilting his head back to rest against Zeppelin’s chest. The steady thump of Zeppelin’s heart vibrated through Preston’s body, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.
Zeppelin’s arm tightened around him. “That’s the idea, sunshine.”
A gentle breeze carried the scent of pine and woodsmoke, mingling with the lingering taste of steak that still clung to Preston’s lips.
Vaughn had outdone himself at dinner, cooking the meat to perfection—crisp and caramelized on the outside, tender and juicy within.
Preston had never tasted anything so good in his life, though he suspected part of the flavor came from being surrounded by people who actually wanted him there.
“I think I’m going to get fat living here,” Preston said, patting his stomach. “Not that I was exactly a supermodel before.”
“More of you to love,” Zeppelin replied, pressing a kiss to Preston’s temple.
Preston snorted. “Spoken like someone with abs you could grate cheese on.”
The fire crackled and popped as Zeppelin shifted to face him, firelight casting half his face in golden light, the other half in shadow. “You fishing for compliments, sunshine?”
“Maybe.” Preston grinned, feeling bold and playful in a way he hadn’t in months. “Is it working?”
“Always.” Zeppelin cupped Preston’s jaw with one large, warm hand. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
His thumb traced Preston’s lower lip, sending little electric pulses down Preston’s spine.
Then Zeppelin leaned in, replacing his thumb with his mouth.
The kiss started soft, almost reverent, before deepening into something hungrier.
Preston melted into it, parting his lips with a contented sigh.
Too soon it was over, leaving him wanting more.
“Your pack is... not what I expected,” Preston admitted as he settled back, watching the flames dance.
Zeppelin laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. “They like you. Chase already asked if you could teach him how to make those pancakes you mentioned.”
“My culinary expertise extends to not burning toast on a good day,” Preston snorted. “Those pancakes were a fluke. A delicious, fluffy fluke that I’ve never been able to recreate.”
“He’ll be crushed,” Zeppelin teased, his fingers drawing lazy circles on Preston’s arm.
Preston tilted his face up, meeting Zeppelin’s gaze.
Firelight played across his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
How had Preston gotten so lucky? Just days ago, he’d been alone, terrified, constantly looking over his shoulder.
Now he was here, wrapped in warmth and safety, with a man who looked at him like something precious.
“Thank you,” Preston whispered.
Zeppelin’s brow furrowed. “For what?”
“For finding me when no one else saw me.” The words felt inadequate for everything Preston wanted to express. For the safety, the belonging, the way his chest no longer felt like it was being crushed by anxiety every waking moment.
A smile softened Zeppelin’s face as he leaned down, pressing his lips to Preston’s.
The kiss was gentle at first, a brush of warmth that quickly deepened as Preston turned more fully into his embrace.
Zeppelin’s hand cupped his cheek, thumb stroking along his jawline in a way that made Preston’s toes curl inside his socks.
When they pulled apart, Preston couldn’t help the giddy laugh that escaped him. “If this is what being your mate means, sign me up for the lifetime subscription.”
“Oh, it gets better,” Zeppelin promised, his voice dropping to a register that sent heat pooling in Preston’s belly.
“Better than this afternoon?” Preston raised an eyebrow.
“Much better,” Zeppelin growled, nipping at Preston’s lower lip. He nuzzled against Preston’s neck, his beard tickling the sensitive skin there. “You make my control slip.”
Preston laughed, tipping his head back to give better access. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing?”
“Not at all.” Zeppelin’s voice rumbled against Preston’s throat. “But we have an audience.”
Following Zeppelin’s gaze, Preston spotted a bunny at the edge of the yard, watching them with curious eyes. “Friend of yours?”
“Distant cousin, maybe. Nosy bastard.”
Preston laughed again, the sound carrying across the quiet yard. The bunny’s ears perked up before it turned and hopped back into the trees.
“A shifter?” Preston asked.
“Nah, just a wild animal that lives in the forest. You scared it off.” Zeppelin settled back against the cushions and pulling Preston close again.
“Story of my life. I laugh, wildlife flees.” Preston stretched his legs toward the fire, wiggling his toes in his socks to catch more warmth. “I once laughed at a squirrel in the park, and it threw an acorn at my head.”
Zeppelin’s chest shook with quiet laughter. “Animals are good judges of character.” He kissed the spot just below Preston’s ear. “But sometimes they get it wrong. I love your laugh.”
“You’re just flirting with me for sex.” Preston joked, then wished he hadn’t when Zeppelin’s expression softened.
“While I do love your body, it’s more than that, sunshine,” he said, thumb brushing Preston’s jaw. “You’re brave. Braver than you know.”
Preston opened his mouth to respond when Zeppelin suddenly stiffened. His nostrils flared as he lifted his head, eyes narrowing as he scanned the tree line beyond the porch.
“What is it?” Preston asked, the playful mood evaporating.
Zeppelin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he inhaled deeply again, a low growl building in his chest, which Preston felt more than heard. The sound sent a chill racing down his arms despite the blanket's warmth.
“Zeppelin?” Preston’s voice came out small, uncertain.
In one fluid motion, Zeppelin was on his feet, the blanket falling away. His stance changed, shoulders squaring, body coiling with tension as he stared into the darkness beyond the porch lights.
“Get inside,” he ordered, voice flat and hard in a way Preston had never heard before.
He scrambled to his feet, the blanket tangling around his ankles. “What’s wrong?”
“Now, Preston.” Zeppelin’s eyes never left the forest, his body positioning itself between Preston and whatever threat lurked in the darkness.
Heart pounding, he stumbled toward the back door. His hands shook as he fumbled with the handle, finally yanking it open. Zeppelin followed, his movements predatory and controlled, backing into the house without turning away from the tree line.
Once inside, Zeppelin locked the door and immediately moved to a panel on the wall, punching in a code that made a series of mechanical clicks sound throughout the house.
“Chase!” Zeppelin called out, his voice carrying through the house. “Get Quinn and Wade. Southeast perimeter, now.”
Chase appeared at the end of the hallway, already shrugging into a jacket. “What’s up, boss?”
“Vampires,” Zeppelin said, the word falling like a stone in Preston’s stomach. “At least three, maybe more. They're testing the boundaries.”
Vampires? Actual, blood-sucking vampires? Preston felt his knees go weak. Of course they were real. Why wouldn’t they be? If werewolves existed, why not vampires? Maybe tomorrow he’d find out unicorns were real, too, and they were assholes who left glitter everywhere.
Chase nodded sharply and disappeared, the front door opening and closing seconds later.
Preston backed up until his shoulders hit the wall, trying to process this new reality. He couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. Wolves were one thing—they were warm, alive, just a different shape. But vampires? The undead? Creatures that fed on human blood?
“Breathe, sunshine,” Zeppelin said, suddenly in front of him, hands cupping Preston’s face. “You’re safe here. Nothing gets past us.”
“Vampires,” he repeated, the word tasting wrong on his tongue. “Actual vampires? With the fangs and the ‘I vant to suck your blood’ and the turning into bats?”
“The bat thing is a myth,” Zeppelin said, his thumb stroking Preston’s cheek. “But, yeah, the rest is pretty accurate.”
“Awesome,” he croaked. “Just awesome. Any other monsters I should know about? Mummies? Werewolves? Oh wait, I’m already sleeping with one of those.”
A hint of a smile touched Zeppelin’s lips. “We prefer shifters. Werewolves can’t control their shifts and howl at the moon and aren’t actually real.”
“Sorry, my monster manual is a bit outdated,” Preston said, hysteria bubbling just beneath his words.
He found himself drifting toward the windows as Zeppelin headed out of the house, peering out into the darkness.
What exactly was he hoping to see? A pale face with blood-stained fangs pressed against the glass?
Some Dracula wannabe in a cape? His mind conjured ridiculous images even as his heart hammered.
“What are we looking at?” Quinn asked, sauntering closer. “Bigfoot? Chupacabra? Your fashion sense?”
Preston glared at him. “Very funny. Apparently, we’re looking at vampires. You know, like in the movies, except real and probably way more terrifying.”
Quinn’s amusement faded slightly. “Ah, those assholes again. They just don’t learn, do they?”
“Again?” Preston’s voice rose an octave. “This happens regularly?”
“Only recently,” Quinn assured him, which was not at all reassuring. “We’ve got a few troublemakers who think they can hunt in our territory.”
Preston’s mind conjured images of drained bodies, pale and lifeless, dumped in the woods. This was too much. Too much on top of everything else. He’d barely processed the existence of wolf shifters, barely begun to understand what being Zeppelin’s mate meant, and now vampires were added to the mix?
He thought he was leveling up to emotional safety, and now Dracula’s interns were lurking in the woods?
“I’m going to check the perimeter,” Quinn said, heading toward the back door. “Try not to smell too delicious.”
He did not just say that.
Preston slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest. What kind of world had he stumbled into?
One where monsters were real, where creatures from horror movies actually lurked in the shadows?
One where his mate—his wolf shifter mate—hunted vampires like it was just another Tuesday night?
“I need a goddamn drink,” Preston mumbled, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “A very large, very strong drink.”
He lost track of time, sitting there on the floor, trying to recalibrate his understanding of reality. Every sound made him flinch—a branch scraping against a window, the house settling, the distant howl that might have been the wind or might have been something much more alive.
Finally, the front door opened, and footsteps approached. Zeppelin appeared, his expression grim but relaxed as he crouched in front of Preston.
“All clear,” he said softly. “They’re gone.”
Preston looked up at him, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t want to know about vampires,” he said, his voice flat. “I don’t want to know about anything else that goes bump in the night. I’m still trying to wrap my head around you and your pack. I can’t... I can’t process any more right now.”
Lowering his eyes, he saw dirt under Zeppelin’s nails and blood on his boots. What in the hell happened out there? Did he really want to know? No, no he did not.
Understanding softened Zeppelin’s features. He nodded once then stood, holding out his hand. “Let’s go upstairs. You look dead on your feet.”
“Poor choice of words,” Preston muttered but took the offered hand, allowing Zeppelin to pull him up.
Zeppelin led him upstairs to the master suite, closing and locking the door behind them. The room felt like a sanctuary, warm and secure, far removed from the dangers lurking in the forest. Preston sank onto the edge of the bed, suddenly overwhelmed by fatigue.
“Tomorrow,” Zeppelin promised, kneeling to remove Preston’s shoes. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about all of it, but only if you want to. For tonight, just rest.”
Preston nodded, too tired to argue. As Zeppelin helped him undress and slip under the covers, he couldn’t help wondering what other secrets this new world held.
But for now, with Zeppelin’s arms around him and the solid walls of the pack house keeping the night at bay, Preston allowed himself to drift toward sleep, clinging to the one certainty in his new reality.
He was safe here, with his mate, in a way he’d never been before.
And that, at least, was worth all the vampires in the world.