Chapter 38
Darion
Darion had been only seven years old when his father had taken him on his first hunt.
He’d been practicing with his bow and arrow all summer and autumn long, and finally, as winter approached, they went into the woods. Just the two of them.
Darion spotted the doe first.
He nocked his arrow, lined up the shot just as his Uncle Norden had taught him, and let it fly.
The deer went down instantly, a clean shot.
He’d stared in awe from where he’d been hiding, looking at his father in almost disbelief, while his father gave him a smile.
He hadn’t seen his father smile very much recently. Not since the passing of his mother.
They walked to the kill together, Darion taking out his knife to begin dressing it, when he heard a soft cry.
Then, from under a bush, came a spotted fawn. It was far too late in the season for a doe to have a fawn so young.
“Father, what do we do?”
“The fawn will not survive without its mother.”
Darion nodded, already preparing to take it home. He could make a space for it in the stalls. Feed it mare’s milk until it was strong.
And then his father told him to slit its throat.
“Must we kill it?” he asked, trying not to cry.
His father nodded.
“It is a mercy.”
And so Darion did as he was told, finding he was no longer proud of himself.
While the clan feasted on venison that night, Darion barely picked at his food.
“You cannot carve out room for guilt in your heart, son,” his father said.
Darion looked up.
“A true alpha learns from his mistakes and keeps moving forward. Dwell too long on the past, and you’ll miss the road ahead.”
He still felt bad for killing the fawn, but he wanted to be a good alpha like his father. So he nodded, sat up a little straighter, and finished his dinner.
* * *
Darion hadn’t thought of that fawn in many years, but he’d carried the lesson his father had taught him from that day forward.
It did him no good to sit mired in guilt over the mistakes of his past.
And so he adjusted his way of thinking after every failure. Considered alternatives, different methods, and experimented anew.
Yet as he gazed upon the sleeping face of Fern, lying in his arms on the floor because her nest was still destroyed, he thought he might finally be seeing the mistakes he’d made.
His wolf had been trying to tell him what she was, what she could be to him, but each time the beast urged him to get close, he’d ignored him and walked in the other direction.
And now that he’d finally given in and stopped fighting the pull she had on him, he saw what he could have had all along.
And he’d almost been too late.
The instinct was there, in the way her body responded, giving herself to him fully when she was in the fog of it.
But as lucidity returned—flickering in and out from the sedative or the disorienting heat—Darion saw the pain in her eyes. He felt the reluctance in her embrace.
She didn’t trust him anymore.
And why should she? Every time she’d needed him to be on her side, he’d ruled against her.
And the worst part was, he couldn’t even articulate why he had done so.
It would be easy to say Kyntha had swayed him, but Kyntha was innocent in this, too.
No, he had simply been unable to believe that the strength of the emotions she pulled from him could be real because he had not opened himself up to the possibility.
The guilt over it all, guilt he’d always wanted to avoid, was buried deep in his heart, and he worried how there could be any room left for both of the she-wolves he cared for.
He stared at her sleeping features for another few minutes, her face twitching and frowning as she dreamed. When she let out a small whimper, he pulled her closer.
“I’ll never hurt you again,” he whispered, hoping his words could reach her mind and ease her from her nightmare.
Her body warmed, and his cock hardened instantly.
Fern was waking, still in the throes of heat, and a wave was building. He’d learned to recognize the signs now.
His omega needed him, and he would not fail her.
Gently, he threaded his arm between her thighs, hooking his elbow under her knee as he lined himself to her sex from behind, both laying on their sides.
She was already dripping with slick, the scent having calmed back into something sweet since he’d begun tending her.
Fern may have resisted him at the start, but on some level, she wanted him there. And if that was all he had for now, he’d take it.
He drove himself in slowly, trying not to wake her.
But it was hard to keep his own moans silent, because he’d never felt anything like her. Walls of warm silk enveloped him as he thrust, muscles contracting in ripples that pulled him in deeper.
And bless the moon for omegas, because now that he’d learned what knotting was supposed to feel like, he didn’t know if he could ever go back to anything less.
Her eyes shot open, and when she realized what was happening, began to protest.
“Shhh,” he soothed, slowing down for just a moment. He felt her body tense and struggle against him, but he knew it was just her needing him more. She didn’t understand yet, but he would guide her. That was his duty as her alpha. “I have you, Fern. You’re doing so well for me.”
“No, please…”
“Shhh…”
He picked up the pace, feeling both of their orgasms coming. “You need my knot, don’t you? Sweet little Fern, do you want it?”
She closed her eyes, let in a shuddering breath, and nodded.
“Aye, let me take care of you.”
He kissed her on the top of her head as he drove harder, until finally they were locked together, and stars formed in the periphery of his vision.
Darion had lost count how many times he’d knotted her in…
Gods, he’d lost count of the days, too.
But still, every time her body welcomed him in and kept him there, milking him for more and more seed, it was just like the first.
Exquisite.
When his cock had expelled the last of it, his hand rested on her lower belly, cupping the small curve and holding it in his palm.
“There could be a pup here,” he said. “Our pup.”
And when she cried, he hoped they were tears of happiness.