Eighteen
Cam
Imight have started laughing if i hadn’t been so goddamn shocked by the way wyatt dragged me and practically growled, “bite me.”
He wanted this as badly as I did, and God, I wanted to sink my teeth into his neck, bite him, make him bleed, scar him. Make him mine.
I’d been edging on possessiveness since last night, but something about that strange wolf having seen him this morning, then showing up here, had all my instincts howling.
I needed to do more than knot Wyatt. I needed to stake my claim, so no one could mistake him for a single omega.
But it was way too soon for that. Wyatt had just learned that shifters existed two days ago.
He knew nothing about us. Even though I’d tried to explain it, I doubted he really understood the gravity of a mating mark.
It would bind us together for the rest of our lives.
Unlike wedding vows, this really was ’til death do you part—the bond would only break when one of us died. There was no other way to undo it.
I knew other shifter couples who lived with bonds even though they’d grown apart and separated.
Down at Hobby Horse, Roy’s mate had cheated on him, then abruptly moved across the country.
They were still mated, even though they weren’t together anymore.
I’d never thought much about it, though I’d heard Roy talk about it when him and my dad had got around to drinking.
Dad had called it the widowers club—but Roy wasn’t technically widowed.
I didn’t want that with Wyatt. Nor did I want it for Wyatt. I didn’t want to trap him in a relationship that he didn’t understand, that he couldn’t get out of.
But maybe it wouldn’t matter. Maybe, since Wyatt was human, it wouldn’t affect him in the same way. Maybe I’d be the only one to suffer, because I was a shifter.
Punishment for being so overzealous as to bite him in the first place.
“What are you waiting for?” Wyatt’s words were loud in the quiet of the night. I was acutely aware of every breath he drew, the rush of his blood.
I swallowed, but I couldn’t think of an excuse that didn’t sound pathetic. After all, I was the one who’d suggested it. And he’d said yes.
Was I really gonna back down now? It was cowardice, plain and simple, and I didn’t like the thought of that one bit.
I wasn’t a coward, and I didn’t want Wyatt to think that. I’d bite him now, damn the consequences. If we broke up later, then I’d bear my punishment without complaint.
“Just giving you a chance to back out,” I said with a grin, to which Wyatt scoffed.
When he didn’t say anything more, I lowered my mouth to his neck, inhaling deeply. I was really gonna do this.
As a shifter, you didn’t get a chance to practice mating marks—it was a one and done thing. So I’d never bitten anyone else. I’d hooked up with people, sure, but I’d never been compelled to sink my teeth into their neck like some kinda vampire.
I had no idea what I was doing. We saw plenty of representations of it in the media—movies, books, you name it—but doing it was another experience entirely.
I mouthed Wyatt’s neck a couple of times, letting my teeth rake over the skin.
“Cam …” His hands tangled in my hair.
“Gimme a minute,” I murmured, felt him shudder. “I’ve … never done this before, yeah?”
“Neither have I,” Wyatt replied, like that was supposed to be comforting or something.
In a weird way, it was. We were both new to this, fumbling our way through it. With that thought in mind, I opened wide and sank my teeth into him.
Or tried to, anyway. I didn’t break skin immediately, and Wyatt grunted at the pressure. I stared at the wall behind him, realizing with horror I was either going to have to bite him multiple times or turn up the pressure.
Which I could do, easily. I was part coyote, after all. Human jaws were a lot stronger than most people realized, but the crushing power of a predator’s jaw …
“Ow,” Wyatt whimpered as my teeth finally punctured him. I still didn’t taste blood. Dammit, how did the movies make this look so easy?
Special effects, I reminded myself as I pushed deeper, ignoring Wyatt wincing under me. I was pretty sure it needed to be deep. After all, it needed to scar, and the movies always showed blood …
Finally, there was a coppery tang across my tongue. Surprised, I pulled back with a yelp. Wyatt clamped a hand over his neck, wincing again. I stared at him. “Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He might have been trying to smile. “Did it work?”
“I have no idea,” I blurted. I instantly regretted it; his face fell. “Uh. Maybe?”
To tell the truth, I didn’t feel any different. Everything felt exactly the same as it had before, except now Wyatt was bleeding. I licked my lips and swallowed.
I would have sucked as a vampire, no pun intended. I scratched at my neck. “Uh. Sorry.”
Wyatt sighed. “Don’t be,” he murmured. “Is there a way to know if it worked?”
I considered for a moment, then said, “I think we’re supposed to … feel it?”
“How?”
“Uh. I don’t … really know.” It wasn’t something that was talked about. School didn’t go over it, not even in a class that was half shifter kids, and Dad had never talked about it with us. I’d have to ask Cal, but I didn’t think Dad and Mom had bonded.
Wyatt sighed. “Never mind,” he murmured. He touched a hand to my cheek. “Let’s try to get some sleep.”
Without thinking about it, I let him guide me down to the pillow. “You wanna sleep?” I asked. I was buzzing—first the wolf, now trying to bond. Even just being here in bed beside Wyatt had me wound.
“Yeah,” the dark-haired vet replied. “It was a long day, and I couldn’t sleep before you got here. I was just tossing and turning. Now though …”
An arm curled around my shoulders. “I think I could …”
Wyatt tried to stifle a yawn, and the next thing I knew, he was out. I blinked a couple of times, trying to process how quickly he’d fallen asleep.
And how awake I still was.
Slowly, I closed my eyes, hoping to relax now that I had my mate beside me and the wolf was gone.
I woke up again with the sun in my eyes. It was peeping through the curtains just enough to stab me like little lances, and I grimaced, preparing to roll over. Then I froze because my arm was asleep. And being held down by something.
Something that was both snoring and drooling on me.
I gritted my teeth, fully prepared to shove one of my brothers out of bed—who knew how we had gotten there; it wasn’t like we’d never fallen asleep playing video games before, and the old puppy instinct to sleep in a pile died hard.
When I looked down, though, I found a mop of dark hair and pale skin that definitely didn’t belong to anyone who shared the Carlyle genome at the moment.
“Wyatt?” I asked, and he snorted, then slowly opened his eyes.
“Cam?”
I nodded. The two of us stared at each other for a moment or two, before he sighed and relaxed in my arms.
Which made me remember that my arm was actually asleep. I tried to pull it out from under him and ended up smacking him in the face.
“Ow!”
“Sorry!”
We tumbled for a second or two, both of us trying to untangle ourselves and only making it worse. Finally, we paused, staring at each other. “Uh, so,” Wyatt said finally, blinking.
“What time is it?” I cast around the room for a clock. I’d left my phone upstairs in last night’s kerfuffle.
“Uh …” He sat up, nearly knocking me out of the bed, as he grabbed his phone. “Eight.”
I groaned. “Really?” That meant it was a halfway decent time to get up, even though I was still tired. Trying to stay in bed longer would probably mean getting harassed by Cal. Or maybe my aunts.
I hauled myself out of bed. I paused halfway to the door, looking back at Wyatt. “You coming?”
He glanced up from his phone. “Huh? Oh. Yeah.” He set the device aside and crawled out of bed.
I opened the door and was immediately assaulted by the scent of bacon and coffee. My stomach rumbled.
Karla was sitting at the kitchen table, poking her phone. She glanced up from the screen when I stepped out of the guest room. “Morning, sunshine,” she called, a wolfish grin taking over her features.
“Hey,” I said, plonking myself down in one of the chairs. Wyatt was right behind me.
“You two sleep okay?” Her bright gaze bounced between us, evaluating.
“Pretty good,” I replied, dragging a hand down my face and trying to stifle a yawn. “Except for that wolf fiasco.”
Karla’s grin faded. “Cal said you didn’t know him?”
I shook my head. “Must be new.”
Karla hummed thoughtfully. We didn’t get a lot of new shifters in town, and it was considered good social etiquette to introduce yourself before running around in your fur. Something weird was up with that wolf.
“Morning!” Caroline called as she flounced over from the stove, bringing with her heaping plates of pancakes, sausages, and bacon. “You’re up early.”
“Early?” I almost laughed.
She tipped her head. “Well, earlier than the twin terrors.”
Karla laughed. “We’ll see them at one.”
Caroline shook her head. “And after all this work,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. Then her expression sobered. “Wyatt, honey, you don’t look so good.”
“No?” Wyatt asked, his voice small and sheepish. I whipped around to look at him and found him pale. Well. Paler than usual.
Caroline pressed her lips together. Wyatt glanced at her, then said, “Didn’t sleep super well.”
Caroline’s frown deepened, but Karla snorted. “How could you? You look like you got mauled by a bear.” She pointed at his neck.
Oh hell. That looked a lot worse in the morning light—there were bruises everywhere, mixed with dried blood, as well as two little puncture marks. It looked utterly pathetic.
“Cameron,” Caroline huffed, “did you try to mark this poor boy?”
“I, uh … yeah?”
Karla snorted. “Did a shit job.”
Caroline shook her head as she sat down. “Didn’t anybody teach you …”
Her words faded, and the silence soured. “No,” I said finally, “nobody taught me.”
She looked pained. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Whatever,” I muttered, grabbing an empty plate and dragging the stack of pancakes toward me.
Karla went to the counter and got the coffee carafe. She poured liberally into the mugs without a word.
“Where’s Cal?” I asked.
“Barn,” Caroline said softly.
Karla sloshed coffee into Wyatt’s mug. Wyatt drew a deep breath, then said, “Excuse me.” He stumbled against the chair, then walked—very quickly—out of the room.
I lifted a brow. Caroline set her mug down and said, “’Course he’s off. A claim is no small thing, Cameron.”
“You should have waited,” Karla said as she resumed her seat. “Or at least asked someone how to do it right.”
I fought the blush in my cheeks. “He wanted it,” I argued.
Caroline quirked a brow, and I sank lower in my chair. “I just … It felt right. At the time.”
Caroline sighed and shared a look with Karla. “No help for it now,” she murmured. “So I guess we’ll tell you how to do it right so you can get this fixed for him.”