Chapter Seven

AVERY shook his head, amused. Nice to know his soon-to-be mate was a master at understatements too.

The kiss threw him off guard. It hadn’t surprised him when Warwick kissed him. In fact, he’d been expecting it. What he hadn’t expected was his response. That kiss had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and his body reacted immediately.

Pleasure swamped him, making him want more. He’d kissed other guys, but this was the first time he’d ever lost control to the point that where he was hadn’t mattered. If it hadn’t been for Clarence, who knows what would’ve happened.

After getting the stink eye, he and Warwick decided to walk around. Since they were practically strangers, Avery had assumed their conversation would be stilted. He was very relieved to find he was wrong.

Instead of being condescending, Warwick was easy to talk to. Buried under a chilly composure, there was a sense of humor—granted, a very dry sense of humor—that made Avery laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened.

As they walked, Warwick made a point of taking his hand. Avery was relieved to know Warwick wasn’t afraid to show affection. Although it did bother him that Warwick referred to him as a “treasure.” He was no pretty bauble to be displayed and admired. He had thoughts and opinions, and wasn’t afraid to voice them, even though it often led to him being on the wrong side of his father’s ideals of what was proper for an Omega. Avery had no time for such narrow-minded views.

Avery began to see Warwick was an odd mixture of old-world and new. His pattern of speech sometimes reflected a bygone era, as did some of his notions. Warwick also nodded to ladies who made eye contact with them.

Speaking of eyes, after that last kiss ended, odd scrollwork appeared above and directly below Warwick’s eyes like a vibrant tattoo inked into his skin. He’d never seen anything like it and could only assume it was because Warwick was a dragon. The purple color of the flourishes were slightly lighter than Warwick’s eyes—it was a little unnerving.

When his toes began to get cold, Avery decided it was time to head back. Slowing down, he waited until Warwick stopped too. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting cold. What do you say we head back?”

“Considering I forgot my gloves, I’m more than ready.”

“Oh. I wish you would’ve said something.”

Warwick lifted their joined hands and kissed Avery’s knuckles. “It was worth whatever minor inconvenience just to have some time with you.”

Well, hell. His heart trembled, threatening to melt, but it was going to take more than a few sweet words to win him over. But that was a good start. “A smooth talker.”

From behind them came a strangled snort.

Warwick laughed softly as he looked back over his shoulder to where Clarence stood. “I need no help from the peanut gallery, if you please.”

“Hey, Clarence, you want to walk with us? You know, instead of strolling along behind?” It felt odd having the other man behind them, almost as if he wasn’t good enough to be included. Since now he knew Clarence wasn’t a threat to him, Avery wanted to get to know him. Later he would examine exactly why he was worried about anybody being a threat to his relationship with Warwick.

Clarence hurried to catch up with them. “Thank you.”

They started heading toward the pack house, and Avery decided to do a little digging. “So, tell me, how long have you worked for Warwick?”

“A long time,” Clarence said.

“That long, huh?” A long time? What kind of answer was that? But from the look Warwick shot Clarence before he’d answered, Avery had a feeling this was something Warwick didn’t want discussed in the open. In that instance Warwick reminded Avery of his father. Mentally he shrugged. Must be an Alpha trait.

Clarence snickered. “I swear, the two of you are going to be perfect together.”

“Oh? Why do you say that?” Avery asked.

“Warwick has a sharp tongue, and I have a sneaking suspicion you do too,” Clarence said. Briskly, he rubbed his hands together. “This should be good.”

“Don’t let him fool you. Clarence has cut his fair share of men down in his life,” Warwick said.

“Well, I did learn from the best,” Clarence quipped.

As Warwick and Clarence traded friendly insults, Avery watched them. Now that he was paying closer attention, it was also obvious there was nothing more than friendship between them. Avery took stock of Clarence. Clarence wasn’t spectacularly handsome, nor was he so ugly he’d frighten children. He was a slim man, with short, wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes. Clarence’s glasses gave him a slightly geeky look, as did the briefcase, which never seemed to be far from his hand. The twill jacket he wore added to the effect. Clarence was a nice-looking man, but… safe. Yeah, that was the word Avery was looking for.

Avery glanced at Warwick. There was certainly nothing safe about him. The air of danger that surrounded Warwick was thick. The lizard side of most human brains probably didn’t know why Warwick’s presence sent it into a scramble, only that it did.

There was something predatory about Warwick, even though at first glance there was nothing physical that said that. Warwick was tall, but he wasn’t musclebound. The long black hair and pale skin didn’t scream aggressiveness. But a glance into Warwick’s eyes dispelled that illusion. That’s when the predator was seen lurking within him.

It should’ve frightened Avery, but it didn’t. Instead, it thrilled him. The temptation to prod the predator prowling underneath the cool, calm exterior was overwhelming. He didn’t know if that made him brave or an idiot. He sighed silently. Yeah, he probably fell in the latter category, but by all the gods, he was due some excitement in his life. He was tired of being repressed by what werewolf society thought was proper.

It was beginning to spit snow by the time they were in front of the pack house. As he opened the front door, Avery noticed the tension suddenly rolling off Warwick. Odd. He had been so relaxed before.

Avery held the door so Warwick and Clarence could enter. While they removed their coats, Avery pulled his off and hung it in the coat closet. Before he could lead them back to his father’s office, Warwick laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“Would you like to be there when your father signs the papers?” Warwick asked.

Avery bit his lip. Did he? On the one hand, he did. He was in this position thanks to his father’s carelessness—and that was the nicest way he could put it. On the other hand, watching his father trade him off to pay his debt was disturbing. It hurt, plain and simple. He didn’t deserve this—no one did.

“I… no. I think I’d just as soon skip that, if you don’t mind.”

“Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Thank you.” Avery shifted from foot to foot. Now what?

“Well, then….” Warwick scratched his head. “Avery?”

“Yes?”

“I… nothing. I guess you better start packing.”

Over Warwick’s shoulder Avery saw Clarence roll his eyes. Avery slumped. He thought for sure Warwick was going to… what? Tell him never mind? That he was calling off the whole horrible thing? Was it really horrible? He wasn’t so innocent that he’d believe that, but still. He had hoped for something.

“Sure thing. Packing up a lifetime of memories shouldn’t take long.”

“Okay, then.” Warwick raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Instead he started to turn away, then suddenly jerked back around. “Have dinner with me tonight.” Warwick grimaced. “I mean to say, may I have the pleasure of your company for dinner tonight?”

Good grief, that looked painful. If asking him out to dinner was that hard, Avery couldn’t imagine what sex was going to be like. His cock twitched. Okay, maybe right now wouldn’t be the best time to think of that. Still, the slight flush climbing Warwick’s cheeks was encouraging. “I’d like that very much.”

“Excellent. I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock.” Once again Warwick turned away.

Seriously? That’s all he had to say? Avery reached out, snagging his sleeve. “Wait, where are we eating?”

Warwick turned back, that blush on his cheeks darker. “My apologies. I have a standing table at The Bronze Avenue. Is that acceptable?”

Avery blinked, then let go of Warwick’s sleeve. Even his father had trouble getting a table there, and he was the Alpha of one of the largest werewolf packs around. Yet Warwick had a standing reservation? “I love that place, so yes, that’d be great. I, ah, I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Yes, tonight,” Warwick said.

Warwick didn’t move; neither did Avery. Seconds ticked by as they stared at each other. Avery finally decided he was going to have to break the stare-off, but then suddenly Warwick threaded his hand through Avery’s hair. Avery stumbled as Warwick jerked him into his arms.

While he held Avery’s head firmly, Warwick’s lips crashed down on his. That same spark of desire flamed up once more. Ho-ly shit. Avery’s fists clenched in Warwick’s shirt. Everything around him receded—the pack house, Clarence standing nearby, voices he heard in the other room. Nothing mattered except for Warwick kissing him as if it was the last kiss he’d ever have. Desire bloomed. He wanted Warwick, wanted him more than anybody he’d ever met. He wanted him with a need that bordered on madness.

The kiss ended, and with a gentle brush of lips, Warwick stepped back. “Your father and I are going to discuss whatever mating rituals werewolves have.”

Avery shook his head in an effort to clear it. How the hell did Warwick jump from one subject to another so damn quickly… especially after trying to kiss Avery senseless? Avery’s toes were still curled in his shoes. “Okay, and…?”

“And the sooner we are officially mated, the sooner I can take you to bed.”

Stunned, Avery watched as Warwick strode through the house as if he owned it. Can we do the mating ritual tonight? Otherwise, there was a very good chance Avery was going to die from blue balls. Clarence shot him a gleeful wink and hurried after Warwick. Leisurely, Avery lifted his hand and touched his lips. They still tingled.

He wasn’t sure he’d survive the mating night.

Turning, he drifted toward the stairs, his mind for once pleasantly blank. He licked his lips. He could still taste Warwick. There was no denying Warwick definitely knew how to kiss. He stopped, resting his hand on the banister, as his brain began to race.

Yeah, did he ever know how to kiss. The pleasant blankness faded as more insidious thoughts occurred. An ugly ribbon of jealousy uncurled within him. How many lovers had Warwick had through the years? Obviously several, if he was to go by that kiss. Since no one seemed to be able to pin down Warwick’s age, it stood to reason he’d had many. Avery tightened his fist on the railing. How could he compete?

Thanks to Avery leading a somewhat sheltered life, teenagers probably had more experience than he did. Gay porn could only get him so far, even though he’d watched plenty. He might not have had sex, but he understood how it worked. But understanding and experiencing it were two different things. What if he couldn’t satisfy Warwick? He tried to imagine Warwick wrapped around another man. His stomach roiled nastily, and his wolf growled harshly.

He wasn’t about to share Warwick with anybody, so Avery was going to have to put that thought out of his head. His wolf paced in his mind, grumbling in agreement. Avery’s claws sprouted from the tips of his fingers. Surprised, he looked down. Wow, that was a first. He didn’t consider himself to be possessive, but his wolf’s reaction clearly said just how violent his response would be if Warwick tried to go outside of the bedroom for his needs. Avery’s wolf snarled, his lips pulled back, exposing his sharp, deadly teeth.

“Yeah, right there with you, buddy.” Neither he nor his wolf liked that image. It didn’t bear thinking about. Damn his parents for keeping him so inexperienced.

“Sir?”

Avery took a deep breath as he tried to calm his wolf. When he glanced back down, his nails once again resembled fingernails, not claws. “Yes?”

“Is everything okay?” Vale, a servant, asked.

Distracted, Avery nodded. “Yes, thank you.” He really needed to get himself under control. He started up the stairs, but stopped and glanced back down at Vale. “Apparently I’m going to be moving out soon. Would you mind checking around to see if you can find some boxes for me to pack up my belongings?”

“Not at all,” Vale said. “I believe there are some in the attic. I’ll check and bring what there is to you.”

“Thank you.” Fortunately Avery made it to his bedroom without running into anybody else. His good mood had taken a less-than-desirable turn.

After he entered his room, he locked the door. It was a large room, decorated in browns and blues. A king-sized bed sat against one wall and a chest of drawers against the other. Another wall had a dresser and mirror. He stood in the middle of the room, assessing it. He had a large desk and TV. There were several pictures on the wall done by up-and-coming artists, and knickknacks that coordinated with the bedroom colors.

Everything went together perfectly… and none of it reflected his personal touch. His mother had good taste, but the stuff could have been bought off the showroom floor—there was nothing of him there.

His laptop sat on the desk, and he walked over to it. Okay, that he’d picked out. His mother didn’t care for electronics. Unnerved by the obvious lack of his personal taste in the room, he wandered into the attached closet.

Again, it was more of the same. The only things that really showed his influence were some of his clothes, but even then, his mother had steered him toward certain brand names. His tie collection was all he could really claim as his own. It was… eclectic, and his mother often claimed they were brash.

“A tie collection.” Avery shook his head sadly. “What a rebel I am.”

He dropped down on the bed, more than a little disgusted by not fighting harder as they molded him into the proper image of an Omega.

“Well, screw that. I’m no longer answerable to them.”

No, he was now answerable to a dragon who he knew next to nothing about.