Chapter 8
Chapter eight
La Madriguera backed up to over a hundred acres of mostly untouched woods, with three ponds, a creek, and a large open field located almost directly in the center. For most of the year, they left it to the wildlife, but every full moon, the night and the forest belonged to the wolves.
With a few exceptions, members had their own lives—jobs, relationships, hobbies—that didn’t involve the pack. They enjoyed status and protection, and in exchange, Dominic knew he could count on them if the need arose.
Scattered throughout parts of Louisiana, Texas, and Mississippi, the full moon gatherings offered them a chance to catch up with old friends and reestablish bonds. Of course, not every pack member made it to every gathering, but the invitation stood.
It started with a bonfire, good music, and enough food to feed a small army. Which Dominic supposed they kind of were.
More than half the pack had turned out for this particular run, their largest showing in years. He suspected his new mate might have something to do with that.
News of his mating had spread like wildfire, helped along by his inner circle no doubt. Over the past twenty-four hours, he had received numerous congratulatory texts and emails, and even a couple of phone calls.
Although no one had stated it explicitly, they hadn’t exactly been subtle about the reason for their attendance. Everyone wanted to meet the male who had finally tamed their alpha.
Only, he didn’t feel very fucking tame at the moment.
While a part of him appreciated that they had welcomed Sammy with kindness and enthusiasm, he didn’t see why they had to touch him to do it. They shook his hand and clapped him on the back. Some wolves touched his arm or his shoulder as they spoke.
A few reckless souls had even been so bold as to hug him.
Sammy didn’t appear unnerved by the attention, which actually made it worse. If he had shown even the slightest hint of discomfort, it would have given Dominic an excuse to keep everyone away without looking like a complete psycho.
As it stood, he could do nothing except watch and quietly contemplate homicide.
“Relax, hermano,” Saint admonished for what felt like the dozenth time that night. “Breathe. Have a beer.” He pushed a cold bottle into Dominic’s hand. “You’re scaring the ninos.”
“The children are fine.”
The smallest ones chased each other through the field, their laughter echoing across the clearing.
The preteens mostly sat around the fire looking mildly offended, their phones glued to their hands.
Only those old enough to shift and join the run for the first time appeared nervous, but that had nothing to do with him.
“Okay, fine, but it’s still annoying.” He took a long pull from his own beer, then tilted the end toward Sammy. “He’s fine. Everyone loves him.”
They did, and he could see why. Sammy radiated warmth and goodness.
He must have met at least fifty different people in a short time, but he gave each one of them his undivided attention. He spoke with care, a rarity among this group, and he asked thoughtful questions instead of offering the same canned responses over and over.
Everything about him invited people in, from his sweet smile to his kind eyes. Of course, the pack couldn’t help but respond to him.
Dominic still hated it.
“They could love him a little less.”
Saint snorted and rocked sideways to bump their shoulders together. “If you’re that jealous, go get him.”
“I’m not jealous.” He absolutely was. “Does he look overwhelmed to you? I think he looks overwhelmed.”
“Probably. You literally threw him to the wolves.”
He hadn’t thought about it that way. “I told Chapel to keep an eye on him.”
His brother dropped his head and groaned. “Not the same thing, Dom. You kind of suck at this.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped.
He would eviscerate anyone who even looked at his mate wrong, but he didn’t know how to be with him.
“It’s not that complicated. Just go over there and talk to him.”
“What do I say to him?”
“This is embarrassing.” Closing his eyes, Saint pinched the bridge of his nose as he rattled off a litany of insults in Spanish. “Just talk to him like you would anyone else.”
But he didn’t give a fuck about anyone else. If they took issue with something he said, that was their problem. The last time he had intentionally set out to make someone like him, he’d been sixteen and madly in love with the baker’s daughter.
Their romance had lasted three days. Then she’d dumped him for some idiot with a big…horse.
“Does his hair look darker?” It definitely looked more ginger than strawberry blond, and he thought he detected streaks of auburn.
He hadn’t considered how Sammy might struggle with control around so many people. Fuck, maybe this had been a bad idea.
“It looks normal.” Saint shrugged. “He looks cold, though.”
Firelight flickered across Sammy’s face, casting an orange glow around him like a halo. His fleece sweater draped to the tops of his thighs, and the sleeves covered his hands to the fingertips.
Dominic couldn’t speak to the warmth of the fabric, but the deep burgundy created a striking contrast against the changeling’s skin that made him look even more ethereal.
“He’s probably fine.”
“Go ask him,” Saint said through clenched teeth. He took another swallow of his beer and shook his head. “Stop making it harder than it needs to be.”
He was right, of course, which didn’t make it any easier to hear. Dominic had always prided himself on being calm under pressure, but he’d been fumbling this whole mating thing since the moment he had met Sammy. So worried about doing the wrong thing, he had talked himself right into inaction.
He had built this pack from the ground up. He had taken a struggling supply store and turned it into a thriving construction business. He had led his wolves into battle against vampires, demons, and some of the most bloodthirsty Otherlings in the paranormal world.
Surely, he could talk to one changeling.
“That’s the spirit.” Saint chuckled around the lip of his bottle. “Go get him, tiger.”
Rolling his shoulders to release the tension in his back, he strode forward with a determined gait, slowing only when a group of toddlers darted in front of him. Distracted, he had taken his eyes off Sammy for only a moment, but that had been enough time for the changeling to notice his approach.
Sammy hugged himself, his fingers gripping his upper arms, and smiled in a way that made everything feel a little brighter. “There you are.”
The admission that his mate had been missing him filled him with deep satisfaction. It also made him feel like an asshole.
“Sorry I left you to deal with everyone on your own.”
“That’s okay. As the alpha, I’m sure you’re really busy.”
Sammy had given him the perfect out, but he didn’t deserve the generosity. “No. I was avoiding you.”
“Oh.” His face fell, contorting into a mask of confusion and hurt. “Well, that was blunt. Is there a reason?”
“Because I’m a jackass.” Giving in to the instinct, he slid his arm around Sammy’s back and drew him closer, sighing when his nervous system finally unclenched. “I don’t know how to talk to you, and I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing.”
“That’s kind of sweet.” Sammy shuffled forward, closing the last few inches until their bodies pressed together from sternum to hips. “If it helps, just know that I work in customer service. I’m not easily offended.”
Infected by his laughter, Dominic chuckled and tightened his arms around him. “Are you enjoying the party?”
“Very much. Everyone is really nice, and the food is amazing.” He popped his head up, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Have you tried the apple fritters?”
“I haven’t.” He’d been too busy watching Sammy to eat anything. “Good?”
“Oh, my gods, they’re perfect. Tart, not too sweet, and they melt in your mouth.” Rocking back, he tilted his head, his lips pursed in contemplation. “I wonder if I could get the recipe.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Really?” He lit up like the morning sky and hugged Dominic fervently around the waist. “Thank you.”
They stood that way for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms as they watched the flames from the bonfire lick the sky. Conversation and laughter thrummed in the background, and music played from an old stereo on a nearby log.
“How are you feeling?” Sammy asked after a while, his tone hesitant, as if trying to forget the reason for the question.
“Good as new.”
The bastard had nicked his lung and splintered a rib. He hadn’t just been aiming to hurt him. He’d wanted to kill him, and if Dominic had been anyone else, he might have succeeded.
As it stood, though, he’d healed quickly without so much as a scar for a souvenir. Honestly, he was more pissed off that the siren had gotten the jump on him than anything else.
“And the…the body?”
“I took care of it.” Stepping over a log, Chapel joined them and passed Sammy a bottle of hard cider. “Stop worrying so much.”
“It’s not that,” Sammy told her. He scraped his thumbnail across the label on the sweating glass. “I just never thought he would do something like that.”
“Try to buy you?” Chapel suggested, taking a long pull from her own drink. “Or stab someone?”
Sammy chewed his lip. “Both.”
“When a guy like that wants to own someone, it’s not usually a momentary lapse of judgement. It’s a pattern of behavior.”
“He was quick to resort to influence and manipulation when he didn’t get his way,” Dominic added. “Which tells me he was comfortable using his abilities against people.”
As further proof, when he had been flipping through Kiev’s memories, he’d seen him persuading another host to follow a middle-aged businessman back to his hotel room. Sammy didn’t need to know that.