Chapter 21 Max
MAX
Max woke with a start, feeling like something had changed but unable to put his finger on what.
Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he felt Warren shift in his arms and make a sleepy sound of discontent at being disturbed.
The strange feeling faded and Max relaxed his head back onto the pillow.
It must have been a weird dream, he decided. One of those that faded as soon as you opened your eyes.
Pulling his feet up from where they had slipped out from under the duvet, Max pushed his face into Warren’s hair and breathed in his scent. It was comforting. He thought back on the day he’d had, his emotions a mess, and wondered what he was going to do.
His first, raging reaction – wanting to leave Harland and turn his back on being a werewolf – wasn’t really an option. Max understood his wolf much better now, and he wouldn’t be able to push it down and ignore it like he used to.
Leaving Harland wasn’t an option either. Max was so angry with him, though. He felt betrayed – furious that Harland would risk him – but then he started second-guessing himself, wondering if his lack of trust in Harland’s ability to win was a betrayal of its own.
No. That train of thought could go fuck itself. How could Harland go from declaring that they were mates to putting him up as the prize in some stupid fight that Max didn’t even care about, all in one day?
Max liked his life with Harland, and he liked being claimed by Harland, but Harland wasn’t the boss of him.
Just because he was a werewolf didn’t mean that Max wanted to give up his autonomy.
He understood that it worked that way in some packs – that the alpha’s word was law – but in Max’s opinion, that was more a result of the cult-like structure of packs than anything to do with their werewolf natures.
“Are you awake?” Warren asked, burrowing back into his chest. His voice was slurred with sleep, his eyes closed.
“Yeah,” Max whispered back.
“Any news?” Warren asked.
Max reached across the nightstand for his phone, but there were no new messages or missed calls.
“No.”
“All right,” Warren mumbled, going back to sleep.
It had been a late night for them.
After picking up a mountain of McDonald’s, they’d gone back to Warren’s apartment. They’d watched TV, just like they had planned, both of them checking their phones every five minutes to see if their idiot alphas had sent them any messages about the status of their stupid fight.
The more time passed without an update, the more nervous Max got. Harland would call him the second he won. He was sure of that. Which meant that no news was bad news.
Warren’s friend Josh had shown up after about an hour, and after some hemming and hawing and nervous staring at Max, the young man had agreed to come inside and hang out.
Max was used to people being a little awkward when they met him, but he’d never been as embarrassed as he was when Josh – standing around the bend of the kitchen and thinking that he couldn’t hear – asked Warren what was up with his leather pants.
Josh left after just thirty minutes. With the tense atmosphere and weird mood, Max wasn’t surprised that he wanted to bail.
Unlocking his phone, angling it away from Warren’s face so that the light wouldn’t bother him, Max turned the volume down and tried calling Harland again. The phone rang, and then went to voicemail.
Max hung up without leaving a message. He then reached across to the nightstand and grabbed Warren’s phone.
He’d seen Warren type his passcode earlier and had memorized it without meaning to, so getting in wasn’t an issue.
He wasn’t going to snoop, but Warren had Marcus’s location in his tracking app and Max wanted to see if he was still at the house.
He was. The little dot with Marcus’s selfie was exactly where it had been the last time Warren had checked, before they went to bed.
Max stared at Marcus’s selfie, the cocky smirk on the man’s face seeming to taunt him. If Marcus had done something to Harland, Max would get a gun and shoot him. None of this werewolf dominance stuff, he’d just kill him.
“Stop growling,” Warren said, elbowing him. Max hadn’t realized he was making a sound, but when he stopped, the silence was startling.
“Sorry.”
“All right,” Warren said, falling asleep again.
Max put Warren’s phone down and wrapped his arm around him, holding him tight.
He was too worried to go back to sleep. He nudged Warren awake, waiting until Warren blinked his eyes open and squinted at him before saying, “I’m going to drive back to the house.”
Warren rubbed his eyes. “Sure. Do you want me to come with you?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t mind.”
Max hesitated, and Warren pushed the duvet off and sat up. “I’ll come with.”
Max was relieved.
The sun was starting to rise by the time they arrived back at the house. Max parked his truck, looking at the driveway with disbelief. It looked like the remnants of a battlefield. There was so much blood – splattered and pooling – and it was everywhere.
“Jesus,” Warren whispered, horrified.
As Max climbed out of the truck, the scent of the carnage hit his nose with the force of a punch.
“I don’t hear anything,” Max said, pulling Warren close and leading him up the driveway. There were two sets of bloody footprints leading up the stone steps, which Max hoped was a good sign.
Entering the house, Max followed the bloody footprints to the kitchen.
From the marks on the floor, it looked like a truce of some sort had been reached.
There were one set of footprints by the blood fridge, with a short detour to the microwave, and another that led right from the door to the real food.
“It looks like they stopped fighting,” Warren said, looking at the two sets of footprints and coming to the same conclusion that Max had.
Max nodded.
The footprints faded where they led out of the kitchen, but Max was still able to follow the trail up the stairs and to his bedroom.
He found the two alphas in his bathroom, sitting on opposite ends of the massive tub that Harland had installed for him a few months ago.
They were leaning back, slack-jawed and asleep, the faucet still running.
Water ran down the sides of the tub, but luckily there was a drain beneath it that caught the spillage.
Max clapped his hands, startling both alphas and making them leap up and growl in sync.
It was like they’d practiced it.
“So, who won?” Max demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at Harland. “It can’t have been you, because you would have called me.”
Harland opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Max noticed the bite-shaped scar on his shoulder.
“You let him claim you?” Max saw red, his fury returning tenfold. “Before me?”
Harland’s mouth snapped shut. He looked guilty.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
That caught Max up short. “You have?”
Harland nodded.
“Can I?”
Harland nodded again, and Max walked over to him. Stopping at the edge of the tub, he pulled Harland’s naked body toward his and bit down on his throat. Teeth piercing skin, Max let his wolf push to the surface and lay claim to Harland’s very being.
Harland’s wolf accepted the claim, the bond between them complete. Max stayed where he was, kissing over his bite, blissfully happy and hardly noticing Marcus as he exited the tub and crouched down behind him.
Then Marcus leaned in, and it was impossible not to notice him. Max froze, his shoulders tensing as Marcus wrapped wet arms around him and nuzzled into his neck.
“So now you want to kiss me,” Max joked, feeling unaccountably nervous.
Harland stroked his hair, but he leaned back to give Marcus space to continue nuzzling his neck.
“No,” Marcus said, his voice a deep rumble. “I want to bite you.”
Max swallowed. So, they were actually doing this. Fuck. He looked at Harland, half hoping he would object, but his boyfriend just looked content.
“Okay.”
The word wasn’t fully out of his mouth before Marcus clamped his teeth into his skin, right below Harland’s mating bite.
Max’s wolf rose up inside of him, and the feeling of meeting Marcus’s wolf across their fledgling bond was weird as fuck.
Max could tell that his wolf had accepted the claim, but as soon as Marcus’s wolf tried to push further across the bond and make him submit, he slammed the connection shut.
Marcus made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and released him from the bite.
A moment passed.
“It took,” Harland said, his voice uncertain. He stroked Max’s cheek. “I can feel your bond.”
“It did,” Marcus said, standing up. He wiped his mouth. “He’s just not submitting like he’s supposed to,” he said, his voice stern.
Max frowned, indignation rising up inside of him. Who did Marcus think he was? One bite and Max was supposed to roll over? No thanks.
“So now I bite you, right?” Max asked, looking up the length of Marcus’s naked, wet body, belligerent.
Marcus sighed, but the look on his face turned fond. “Yes.”
For some reason Max had expected a fight, but of course, that didn’t make sense. This was happening.
Feeling awkward – he and Marcus didn’t really know each other, not after just one run in the woods – Max rose to his feet and placed his lips below the scar where Harland had put his mating mark. Harland rose up with him, stepping out of the tub and holding him from behind.
Max couldn’t believe that he was doing this. He might not be the best werewolf, but he could feel how serious this was. How permanent.
It also felt right.
His teeth hadn’t retracted after claiming Harland, so all Max had to do was open his mouth and sink his teeth into Marcus’s throat. He willed his wolf forward and up across the bond Marcus had created, taking comfort in Harland’s arms wrapping around him.
It was less natural than with Harland – that claim had just snapped into place with no effort – but after a brief pause, he felt the beast rumbling inside of Marcus accept the claim he laid on it.
Max had no idea how he was supposed to act now. He pulled back, feeling a little wobbly, and turned to Harland and patted his arm. “I’m sorry you lost. I’m sure you put up a very good fight.”
When in doubt, you couldn’t go wrong with a little teasing.
Harland’s face twisted in surprised outrage, while Marcus, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist, guffawed.
“I didn’t lose,” Harland said, his voice firm. “We decided to stop fighting and be civilized.”
“So, a stalemate?” Max asked.
“A stalemate,” Marcus confirmed. “And now we’re all going to be together. God only knows how that’s going to work.”
Contrary to his words, he didn’t sound upset about it.
“Pretty well, I think.” Harland grabbed a towel and started drying himself off. He turned to Warren. “I’m sorry if we scared you. Are you okay?”
Max glanced back at the human in question. He’d completely forgotten that he was there, which made him feel like a complete heel.
Warren stood in the doorway, watching the scene and looking overwhelmed. He now had three werewolves united in their goal of claiming him, and he looked extremely aware of that fact.
“If I could just get a ride home?” he said, turning to Max like he was casting about for a lifeline.
Watching Marcus and Harland, both of them smug as could be and looking like they had everything they wanted, Max realized that he could use a break, too.
He was still furious with both of them.
“Sure,” Max said.
“Or you could stay here and get some sleep.” Marcus grinned, crossing the floor and pulling Warren up against his side. He tousled his hair. “You look tired.”
“I already slept,” Warren said, twisting out of Marcus’s grip and taking a step back. He looked completely overwhelmed, and he was obviously not sharing in Marcus’s ebullient mood. “Max, are you ready?”
“Sure,” Max said. He looked at Harland and poked him in the chest. “I’m happy I claimed you, and I love you very much, but I’m furious with you. We are officially in a fight. I’m going to spend the night at Warren’s place.”
Harland’s brow furrowed, the shape of his mouth displeased.
Max turned to Marcus. “That goes for you, too.”
“What did I do?” Marcus sputtered, his chest puffing up defensively.
“I’m taking them both with me? Remember saying that before trying to beat up my boyfriend?” Max poked Marcus in the chest. “You don’t get to decide jack-shit about me.”
Marcus let out a growl, the sound building deep in his chest, his teeth turning sharp. Max’s wolf retreated, sinking down and telling Max to submit, but Max wasn’t going to listen to it.
“Nice,” Max mocked. “You can make noises and sharpen your teeth. Surely now I will change my mind and do everything you say.” Max poked him again. “Fuck off.”
Marcus stopped growling and shot a bewildered look at Harland.
“Come on, Warren,” Max said, putting his hand on Warren’s back and leading him out of the bedroom.
Despite his bravado, Max’s heart was racing. He glanced back, half expecting Marcus to chase him, but they were not pursued.
He sped up his steps anyway, propelling Warren into a jog and exiting the house as fast as he could without running.
He knew that if Marcus attacked him, he’d need Harland to step in to keep him from getting stomped into the ground.
“Thank you,” Warren said when they were in the truck.
“I’m actually so happy right now,” Max confessed. He started the truck and pulled out of the driveway. “But we need to stand up for ourselves.”
Warren let out a weak chuckle.
“I don’t know. You guys are pretty intimidating.” Warren glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think I can handle it.”
Max felt a stab of disappointment at being lumped in with Harland and Marcus in the intimidating category.
“You don’t have to handle anything you don’t want to.” Max reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “If you’re not happy, we’re not happy. Please just give us a chance. Can you do that?”
“I guess we can see how things go,” Warren said.
“Niiice,” Max said. Warren laughed.
“Which one of us is your favorite?” Max asked, wanting to keep things light. “It’s me, right?”
“I don’t know. I’ve spent the most time with Marcus. He’s pretty cool.”
Max looked at him, wondering if Warren was serious. Warren had spent the most time with Marcus – they’d gone on two whole dates and fucked both times – but he was so heavy-handed.
Warren burst out laughing. “Your face! I don’t know, I don’t have a favorite. I’m still getting to know you guys.”
“Let’s go on a breakfast date.” Max shot Warren his most charming grin. “Get to know each other. There’s a diner not far from the fire station that does amazing pancakes.”
“Okay,” Warren said, nodding to himself. “Sure, why not? Let’s go on a breakfast date. I’m starving.”