Beat of my Heart Page 4

  A look of sadness filled Toren’s eyes, but as they entered camp and were met with approval and happiness at the deer slung over Zeveride’s shoulder, Toren grinned at him.

  Zeveride’s heart skipped a beat and heat unfurled inside of him.

  Until a petite female with long, curly red hair approached them, smiling, and lovingly caressed Toren’s face. “Very good, boys. We’ll eat well tonight.” A shaft of jealousy shot through Zeveride as she kissed Toren on the cheek.

  “Mom, please.” Toren’s face turned a cute shade of red.

  Zeveride laughed. He was such a fool! Even if this hadn’t been Toren’s mother, he had no right to be jealous. Toren wasn’t his and never would be.

  Toren’s mother turned to Zeveride with a bright smile. “We’ve not been introduced yet. I’ve been busy helping with a couple pregnancies. I’m Sheraya.”

  “This is Zeveride,” Toren said, shooting him a shy smile.

  It wasn’t easy to pull his gaze from Toren and focus on his mother, but Zeveride did it. “I’m honored to meet you, my queen.”

  “Just Sheraya, please, and it’s very nice to meet you as well. I see you went hunting with my son. This is a nice big buck. It will feed many. Would you join us for supper tonight?”

  Zeveride hesitated, already feeling himself becoming a little too invested in this pack.

  “Yes, eat with us,” Kyrian said, joining them with an appreciative glance at the deer.

  “Um, all right,” Zeveride agreed, and while the delight in Toren’s eyes filled his soul with happiness, a voice in his head chanted that this was not a good idea.

  A few hours later he sat down with Toren and his parents.

  Sheraya handed him a bowl of deer stew. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Have you seen any females you like here, Zeveride?” Sheraya asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Toren’s face turned bright red. “Mom!”

  “What? He’s a fine-looking male, and I happen to know that the females are all trying to catch his attention,” Sheraya said with an innocent little grin.

  Toren groaned. “Sorry, Zev.”

  Kyrian chuckled as he sat down with them. “It’s a mom’s job to matchmake.”

  Zeveride barely heard him. Toren had called him Zev again. He liked it, maybe too much. “It’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not,” Toren responded. “No wonder you spend so much time alone if all the moms think they have to set you up with someone.”

  Toren looked so disgruntled it was heartwarming. “Actually …” Zeveride shrugged. “It doesn’t happen that often.”

  But Sheraya wasn’t done and Zeveride could have sworn the twinkle in her eyes had grown even more mischievous. “My son has a lot of females who’d love to claim him. It’s a good thing he’s not interested in them or he’d break their hearts. But now you’re here, another sexy catch for them to chase after.” She scooped up another bowl of venison stew and handed it to Kyrian.

  Beside him, Toren grew still and Zeveride caught the sheen of panic in his eyes before he concentrated on his meal.

  Zeveride looked at Sheraya. “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t he tell you?” Sheraya asked. “Toren’s to be mated.”

  Dread churned in Zeveride’s gut. He glanced at Toren again, but the male kept his gaze lowered. The pit grew wider. “Really?” Zeveride tried not to let the news bother him, but he felt like his heart was being torn in two. Which was silly, as he’d known from the beginning that his feeling toward the other male could never go anywhere.

  “Yes.” Sheraya’s eyes sparkled with happiness. “I can’t wait to hold their young in my arms.”

  Sudden bile rose at the realization that though he kept telling himself Toren was off-limits, he’d still let himself dream.

  Zeveride could almost feel Toren’s despair, which shouldn’t have been possible. Only mated pairs felt their mate’s emotions.

  Toren set his bowl down and stood. “Thank you for the meal, Mother, but I’m no longer hungry.” Then he turned and walked away.

  Sheraya frowned. “Toren?” She looked at Zeveride, then Kyrian. “What did I say wrong?”

  “Nothing, my dear,” Kyrian said kindly, though as he gazed after his son, he wore a thoughtful expression.

  Zeveride handed his empty bowl to Sheraya. “Thank you for dinner. I should get some rest before my turn on patrol.”

  “Yes, of course. You are welcome to join us anytime.” Toren’s mother stood, then leaned in and gave him a hug. “I’m glad you found us, welcome to the pack.”

  Stunned, Zeveride could only nod. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged, never mind welcomed into a pack so warmly.

  But as he walked away, he felt Kyrian’s stare upon his back. He headed out of camp until he could no longer feel eyes upon him, then turned into his wolf. Zeveride inhaled the scents of forest, night, and wolves, then he turned and began to run. Muck and snow flew beneath his paws as he thought over Sheraya’s words.

  He’d known from the beginning that he didn’t have a hope in hell with Toren, but that hadn’t changed how he felt about the russet wolf. Even now, he ached to go to the other male. He didn’t know the whole story, or why Toren was upset, but he needed to stay away. Now more than ever.

  He also needed to accept that Toren was promised to another and could never be his.

  Again, Toren was the son of the Okami king and eventually, though possibly many years in the future, he would take his father’s place as leader.

  So what the hell am I still doing here? Sure, Zeveride had vowed to help protect the pack, but if he were honest, that wasn’t what was keeping him around.

  He was a sucker for punishment, and it needed to end.

  The sun had risen by the time Zeveride returned to camp from being on patrol. He was tired and cranky, pissed at himself for continuing to stay here. But as he caught Toren watching him, his heartbeat picked up and suddenly, he felt lighter and could actually enjoy the sun warming his face.

  Then Toren turned away and went to comfort a crying female.

  “Hungry?” another unmated female—this one close to Zeveride’s age—a brunette with wavy hair and brown eyes squeezed his arm as she held up a bowl of food. “I’m Mireya.”

  “Thank you, Mireya. I’m Zeveride.”

  “I know.” Mireya grinned.

  Zeveride accepted the offering. “What’s happened?” He indicated the crying female.

  “She lost the pup she was carrying.” Despair and sadness shone in Mireya’s eyes.

  “Shit, that’s rough,” Zeveride muttered.

  “Yeah,” Mireya agreed.

  “Thank you for the food, Mireya.” Zeveride moved to a log that had been dusted off snow and sat down to eat. He watched Toren with the crying female and couldn’t help but wonder who the father was. Just because Toren was to be mated to another, didn’t mean he was celibate.

  Then Toren released the female. He stood and pulled a male, who’d been standing stiff and quiet close by, into his arms and held him.

  After a long moment, Toren gave the male a squeeze, then nudged him over to the female.

  Relief that Toren hadn’t been the father filled Zeveride, which shouldn’t matter to him. Yet it did, which was so not good.

  Toren looked over as if he’d felt or heard Zeveride’s internal dialogue. Zeveride’s heartbeat picked up until Toren focused back on his friends.

  “You know.” Mireya joined Zeveride. Hunger gleamed in her eyes as they roved over him. “I’m not spoken for or looking for anything long term.”

  “Uh, thank you, Mireya.” Zeveride got to his feet. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m off to get some sleep.”

  Mireya smirked. “Well, when you’re ready for me, I’ll be here.”

  Even though he wasn’t in the least interested, Zeveride knew better than to lead her on. Since their base form was wolf and their secondary was human, sex to the Okami wol
ves—as with regular wolves—was completely normal. Well, with the exception that regular wolves only mated during a female’s heat cycle, while the Okami could have sex at any time.

  Still, for the Okami, the act was often performed out in the open and in animal form, and usually didn’t last long. It was a means of scratching an itch, as well as propagation of their species. Thankfully, at least in Zeveride’s view, the act when done in human form was usually more discreet and private. He’d never been comfortable with anyone watching his most intimate moments. Whether that was due to his upbringing in the pack ending early or because of his sexual orientation, he didn’t know, but it was what it was, and he didn’t imagine it would change anytime soon.

  5

  Worse before Better

  When he awoke, Zeveride noted the pack seemed quieter. Then he spotted a large wolf whose coat was a mix of white, silver, blue, and multiple shades of gray pacing up on the ledge above camp. Kyrian.

  Zeveride stretched, took his human form, and made his way along the trail to the leader of the Okami. “What’s happened?”

  “Three packs have gone dark, and now I no longer feel two of them.”

  The sight of the Okami leader in a white T-shirt and faded blue jeans never failed to make Zeveride chuckle inwardly. No one would expect a king to dress this way, but it suited Kyrian perfectly. Zeveride hadn’t realized that Kyrian had that strong a connection to all the packs, but it made sense. “You think they’re dead.”

  Anger flared in his eyes. “This has been happening a lot lately.”

  “Think it’s the Ilyium?”

  “Not sure, but it usually is,” Kyrian said with disgust.

  Zeveride swallowed as the past surfaced. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Kyrian’s perusal landed on Zeveride, and the anger dissipated and was replaced by sadness. “I’ve sent Soroyan to check it out, but thank you. What you’re doing here, helping protect this pack, is appreciated.”

  “I’m honored to have the opportunity,” Zeveride answered. “I just wish there was more I could offer. Do you want me to go look, maybe try to trail the other missing packs?”

  “No, not at this time.”

  Zeveride waited, but when Kyrian didn’t say any more, he turned to leave, a feeling of unease upon him. He returned to camp feeling restless. After a few minutes, Zeveride changed into his wolf and headed off down the trail. He didn’t get far before a familiar scent filled his nostrils.

  Zeveride lifted his muzzle and inhaled, silently cursing as his heartbeat began to race out of control. He continued and, within seconds, found Toren in a clearing surrounded by pack mates. He and a couple of older friends were training some of the younger wolves.

  Zeveride stopped well back and watched as they taught the youngsters to fight. While tracking and hunting tended to be the parent's responsibility, he’d noticed that most of the unmated males and females took turns teaching the young other skills. And if the parents were busy, the unmated members also took over any extra training. It was something his pack had never done but should have.

  Zeveride couldn’t take his eyes off Toren. The male was a kind and patient teacher, and the younger wolves—no, all the wolves—loved him.

  When a few of the pups finally plopped down on the ground, Toren snorted, then a male in human form waved the young away. “Go, get something to eat. We’ll train more later.”

  As the group dispersed, Toren’s russet wolf made his way over to Zeveride. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Desire for the handsome male filled him.

  Toren stared at him for a long moment, then his mouth dropped open in a wolf grin. “Think you can catch me?”

  “Are you challenging me?”

  Toren’s snapped his mouth closed, spun around, and took off.

  Don’t do it. Don’t! Zeveride’s feet moved as he gave chase.

  Toren ran, paws flying across the ground as he glanced back every now and then. Merriment and a clear invitation shone bright in his blue eyes.

  Zeveride chased him even though he should be running in the opposite direction. But his heart soared as his feet moved of their own volition. He let Toren keep the lead, anticipation building as he kept on the other wolf.

  Finally, Toren slowed and whirled to face him.

  Zeveride stopped and waited to see what Toren would do next.

  A glint in his electrifying blue eyes, Toren charged him.

  As they collided, Zeveride wrapped his legs around Toren to protect him as they rolled down a slight incline between trees and boulders.

  He let go when they came to a stop in a bit of depression.

  “What are you doing, Toren?” Zeveride stared down at the smaller wolf who now lay on his back under him.

  “No idea.” Toren held Zeveride’s gaze as he took his human form and dragged his fingers through Zeveride’s fur. “You caught me,” he said, voice breathless, though from the run or his own emotions, Zeveride didn’t know.

  Zeveride shuddered at the feel of Toren’s touch and, though the desire to stay here like this was overwhelming, the need to be in human form was even more so. He changed shape, whole body hard and aching for Toren. His hunger was like a living thing. Demanding. Needing. Craving. “I did catch you, but this is a dangerous game you play, little wolf.”

  Toren continued to watch him. Then with a question in his eyes, he slowly raised his head.

  “Toren,” Zeveride warned as Toren’s lips met his. Pulse racing, Zeveride groaned at how soft, how sweet—decadent—Toren tasted.

  Unable to stop, he pressed more firmly into Toren, powerless to hide his hunger.

  He cupped Toren’s head and deepened the kiss.

  Toren’s erection swelled against him and long, slender fingers tangled in Zeveride’s hair while the male's other hand wrapped around Zeveride’s waist, holding him tight.

  Senses going wild, Zeveride closed his eyes and groaned.

  Toren stilled, then pulled his lips away.

  Zeveride could sense his fear as the other male began to push at him.

  Zeveride rolled off and got to his feet, hands out. “Easy, it’s okay, I’m sorry.”

  Toren gazed wildly around, looking everywhere but at Zeveride as he, too, gained his feet. A trembling hand went to his lips and shock filled his eyes. “I … this … I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Toren—”

  “No!” Toren turned into his wolf and raced away.

  This time Zeveride didn’t give chase.

  Blood still pumping out of control over a kiss that had utterly rocked his world, Zeveride touched his own lips.

  He wasn’t a virgin, but he’d also never kissed a single soul before, and couldn’t imagine anyone could taste better than Toren had.

  Zeveride hated that he’d scared the male, even worse, he couldn’t ease Toren’s fear or even reassure him. It had obviously been Toren’s first kiss as well. Or, maybe just his first time kissing another male?

  Zeveride had long been aware of his tastes, but was Toren just now figuring out his own?

  When Zeveride returned to camp an hour later, he felt Toren’s eyes on him. But as soon as Zeveride met his gaze, the other wolf turned back to the group of friends he was sitting with.

  Though it saddened him, Zeveride understood. In the packs, it was unheard of for a male Okami to be with another male, never mind love one. Those that did take the chance were usually banished from the pack and left to fend for themselves.

  Since he was a lone wolf, it had never bothered him before, but everything was different.

  And for someone who knew nothing of the world other than their pack? He couldn’t imagine how confused Toren must be.

  Zeveride hadn’t realized he preferred males until he was in his teens, and by then, he was old enough to understand that this was another secret he needed to keep.

  It was easier to be himself in that respect when in a city filled with humans. Even then, he never sampled another
male; though, he’d been tempted a time or two. He feared that if he finally gave in, it would make things much more difficult when he joined a pack and had to ease himself inside a female.

  Until now, he’d believed that even though he preferred males, fucking was fucking. You took what you could get—when you could get it—and didn’t think too long or hard about it.

  But Toren changed everything, or more accurately, his feelings for the other wolf did.

  Over the next week, Toren went out of his way to avoid Zeveride. It hurt, but he understood. It was a wise decision, and Zeveride was glad at least one of them was able to make it.

  Still, it wasn’t easy. Especially when he saw Toren being fawned over by his female friends.

  With a half hour to spare until he went on patrol duty, Zeveride sat on one of the larger boulders and watched the sun set.

  He gazed around the camp. Everyone treated him as if he were part of the pack, something he hadn’t experienced since he was a young. It was what he’d wanted for so long, but now that it’d been offered, he found himself unable to accept it.

  The light breathing of the pups sleeping deep in the cavern under the ledge was soothing.

  Some of the older wolves and mated pairs cuddled close to the fire, while others left to find a private spot where they could be alone.

  Then there were the unmated wolves. Toren’s friends.

  Zeveride tried to ignore the group, but Toren’s voice drew his attention their way. The light from the moon shone down on Toren’s alabaster skin and made his eyes that much brighter. Zeveride groaned inwardly as his blood heated and hunger for the wolf surged. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sounds of the night.

  “I told the girls I had to share and that they were yours tonight,” Toren’s male friend said to him.

  Zeveride opened his eyes. Two females sat down beside Toren and cuddled close to him with giggles and smiles.

  Then one leaned in and whispered something in Toren’s ear.

  The other female turned Toren’s head to face her, then locked lips with him.