Ryan was awakened not by his alarm clock, which he had turned off for the night despite having not ever done such a thing in his entire adult life. Instead, he was nearly knocked out of bed by a series of heavy, urgent thumps from somewhere deep within the house. The thumps were followed by the deafening chime of a bell which repeated over and over, before the thumping resumed.

“What the hell?” he muttered to himself, rolling out of bed. A sideways glance out the bedroom window informed him that the hour was an incredibly early one. Dawn was only just beginning to arrive, streams of grey flowing in through the glass to illuminate his bedroom in a muted and toneless sort of way. Objects were defined by their edges now, but the details were still a mystery.

There was a chill in the air that the furnace hadn’t been able to defeat no matter how hard it ran or how often, so he grabbed his robe from where it hung on his bedroom door. Slinging it around his shoulders, he hurried off into the hallway in search of the source of that terrible sound. He quickly decided that it was someone at the front door and headed there, heart in his throat. He was wide awake in an instant, completely aware even though only a moment ago he’d been deep in the grasp of dreams.

He didn’t like to think about what those dreams were, even though all he could remember was a body moving against his and the sound of two wolves coming together. He might have been embarrassed to answer the front door if the cold hadn’t effectively rid him of his morning wood.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he said, jogging the last few feet through the living room. “Don’t break down the damn door!”

His home’s unknown assailant gave no sign that they’d heard or that they cared about this request, pounding away still and slamming on the doorbell. So close to the door now, the sound was somehow even worse than simply deafening. It was hellish.

Ryan unlocked the deadbolt and the regular lock, then threw the door open. “You’re waking the whole neighborhood!” he said. It was with some effort that he kept his tone from becoming a snarl, because it didn’t take a genius to figure out that a person acting in such a fervent manner was likely to be one in need of help. They didn’t deserve anger. As it was, the words died halfway out of his mouth.

He was glad as hell that he’d held back on his tone, because the person making such a racket was Dylan.

The omega wolf looked terrible. He clearly hadn’t slept and the lack of proper meals over the course of the past day already seemed to be getting to him, even though that was physically impossible. He looked gaunt, hollow, as if someone had taken an ice cream scoop and emptied him of the most vital parts of himself.

“Dylan! What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dylan’s beautiful oceanic gaze was haunted. His eyes were so frantic that they almost appeared to be rolling around in his head, like marbles flicked away by an expert thumb. He struggled to speak but now that the moment was upon him, he couldn’t seem to find the words. He was shaking, shivering, and Ryan could tell it wasn’t just from the fierce dawn cold.

“They’ve got him,” Dylan finally managed to croak out.

Ryan stared at him, then grabbed his friend by his shoulders and leaned in very close so that their foreheads almost touched. Dylan’s wild eyes finally came to rest on his, begging for something that Ryan didn’t understand.

It struck him that this was the perfect position for a kiss. Dylan was slightly shorter than him but with his head tilted up like that and Ryan’s angled down to catch his attention...

Stop. Have to get ahold of myself.

“Dylan?” Ryan said, very softly. “You’re here with me now. You’re okay. Who has Hunter, Dylan?”

But he thought he knew, or at least understood the gist of it. He could feel Dylan’s thoughts circling and circling, could catch glimpses of a madness within that was terrifying. But, he couldn’t understand any of what he was seeing. Dylan might have been very openly broadcasting his emotions for any shapeshifter to pick up on but that didn’t mean the contents themselves were fathomable.

Nevertheless, he didn’t think Dylan would be acting like this if the news was good. Whoever had Hunter, they were not someone who should have had him.

“I...can I come in? Please?”

“Sure, hon. Come on.”

Hon? Where did that come from?

He held the door open, and Dylan slid inside. The omega just stood there, as if he had no idea what to do. Ryan went over to him, grabbed his shoulders, and pushed him in the direction of the living room couch. “Sit.”

Dylan sat obediently.

Ryan took the armchair opposite him, then leaned forward and stared intently at his best friend. “Who has Hunter?”

“I don’t...know.”

“Did the police find him?” he prodded.

Dylan shook his head. A weak, wobbling grin formed on his lips. “But they know where to look, now.”

“I don’t understand, Dylan.”

Dylan looked around the living room as if he might find his answer somewhere within this sheltered realm of nice furniture and bookshelves. Finding this not to be the case, he looked back at Ryan and then closed his eyes. “There’s...a ransom.”

Someone actually took his kid. How did this happen? In my pack?

“I was...I stayed with Arden last night. She went to bed, and I stayed by the phone. But I went into Hunter’s room because I missed him. Ryan, I miss him so much! I always miss him! And he has to be so scared!”

“Stop.”

Ryan put every ounce of command he had into his voice to calm Dylan. They might have been people, and they might have been best friends, but they were also more than that. They were wolves. He was an alpha and when an alpha commanded, an omega listened. That was just how they worked. It was inescapable. Their instincts wouldn’t allow for anything else.

He kept his voice deep and low. “What happened while you were in Hunter’s room?”

Dylan told him about the laptop notification, and the email that arrived.

At last there were answers, but these only brought about more questions. Ryan didn’t interrupt, figuring the questions he had were the same ones the police would have asked. Dylan would get to that on his own time.

“We called the cops and they came. The same one who we saw today...yesterday...was there. Carey. She stayed with Arden. She was hysterical.” Dylan tried to smile and it came but it was a quivering, wicked sort of thing filled with only sadness. “So was I.

“They took notes on everything and asked all sorts of questions. They wanted to know why Hunter hadn’t taken his laptop to school with him today, why it wasn’t in his backpack in his locker with everything else.”

Yes, that’s one of my questions, too.

“And Arden said that he’d forgotten it, and she hadn’t brought it to him even though she noticed. Said that he couldn’t always expect other people to come behind him and clean up his mistakes. But he’s only five! We’re his parents. That’s what we’re supposed to do!”

Whatever his own feelings about the matter, Ryan didn’t say them out loud. The last thing he needed was to upset Dylan further. It was only through further calm communication that they would get anywhere, which meant he couldn’t allow for such distractions.

“There weren’t going to be any fingerprints on it, and I already touched all over it anyway, but they took it as evidence. Ryan? The ransom letter said $50,000. Delivered to this town in Tennessee called Baneberry. I don’t have $50,000!”

“How long do you have to get the money there? And where in Baneberry?”

“A week.” Dylan’s voice was very hushed. They both knew the impossibility of being able to get that much money out of the blue. A crowd-sourced fundraiser might very well be lost amidst all the others that were going on at all times. They might raise over one million, or they might not get so much as a single cent. And despite the extenuating circumstances, a bank would be reluctant to make that sort of loan. After all, a loan still had to be paid off somehow and $50,000 wasn’t chump change.

“And it just said Baneberry. So they alerted the police near the town and everyone’s doing everything they can but...but...I...”

Dylan dropped his head into his hands, unable to hide the tears that streaked down his cheeks. Ryan’s heart clenched in his chest almost hard enough to implode from the strain.

“I can’t do anything!”

Ryan moved over to the couch and wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulders, holding him as he offered the comfort that he hadn’t been able to give in the cop’s office or at Arden’s house. “We’ll get you through this,” he promised. His voice was raw with the emotions stirring around inside him. “I promise. We’ll get you through this.”

Already he was thinking of ways to postpone his work. It was very unlikely that his next clients would drop out of the running after they had waited so long to have a chance with him. Even if they did, the next couple after them would be pleased to have their cases looked at sooner.

He couldn’t be a lawyer right now.

Through so many complications, through so many other hardships, he had been able to shove it all aside in favor of being an impartial professional. Sure, sometimes stress would get the best of him and he would become a little rough around the edges, a little brisk, but his work never suffered for it.

But this? This was what broke him.

There was no way in hell he could go to work while knowing that a member of his pack was going through something so completely awful. He was more than just a leader. He was a member of the community. It was his job to be there when he was needed.

And he was needed now.

Dylan turned his face towards Ryan’s shoulder and wept. He cried in the silent, heavy sobs of an adult man who has learned that it isn’t within his best interest to be emotional, but he cried all the same. Ryan continued to hold him, feeling those sobs shake his own body. He didn’t try to offer any words, knowing anything he said would just be useless prattle.

At some point, Dylan’s tears started to abate. He continued to tremble, breath still heaving, but it was as if he no longer held enough moisture to produce tears. Ryan stood up and went into the bathroom to bring back a box of tissues, setting them down in Dylan’s lap.

“How did you get here?”

Dylan pulled out a tissue but instead of using it, he only started to shred it into little pieces, worrying at it with his fingers. “I ran.”

He had run here, to the other side of the city, presumably while in wolf form. And he had done this with very little fuel left in his body, even though wolf shapeshifters burned through calories in a way that would leave the most fit of humans seething with rage. No wonder he looked so hollow. He had gone past the verge of running on fumes, to running on nothing at all. It was only through sheer force of will that he was able to keep going at all.

Ryan didn’t like that.

He went into the kitchen and reached up into his cupboard, shoving past boxes of cereal and half-empty packages of crackers to retrieve a little round canister which had only been used a handful of times throughout the years.

He absolutely hated instant coffee. Unless a person really splurged on the good stuff, instant was going to be simply horrific. And if a person was going to spend that much money, why not just buy a cheap canister of real coffee that was still going to be just as good?

However, there were a few times that he could remember where it was unfeasible to wait for an entire pot of coffee to brew. That was during a few infrequent emergencies.

If this wasn’t the time for a quick cup of coffee, he didn’t know what was. Hell, he didn’t even want to wait long enough for the microwave to heat up a cup of coffee so he set the tap to running and went on the lookout for something quick to eat. He found a few protein bars and pocketed them, then turned back to see steam rising from the sink.

A few moments later, he had a cup of coffee as black as night. He took it into the living room where Dylan had finished wiping away his tears. A mound of used tissues had collected in his lap. At his side was a much larger pile of shredded tissue fibers. Little clouds of white dust surrounded him, illuminated in their slow dance by the strengthening dawn light.

“Here,” Ryan said, handing over the coffee. “Drink it.”

Dylan stared down into the cup. A shadow flickered across his face, one which just might have been amusement in another lifetime. “What is this? Bile?”

“Bile is yellowish-green,” Ryan informed him.

“This person must have been really sick, then.”

Dylan sipped at the coffee. The curl of his lips showed distaste, but he clutched at the cup for all he was worth, clearly appreciating the warmth.

“You’re staying here with me for a few hours,” Ryan said. “I’d like you to get some sleep.”

“So you’re giving me coffee?”

“Right.” He didn’t bother to explain this reasoning, knowing that his conviction would be enough to encourage Dylan to drink more.

They were both caffeine junkies. Coffee was the name of the game. Like any junkies, they needed their fix. Dylan hadn’t had any caffeine for a while and it was beginning to wear him down. His body craved it. Needed it. If he got his fix, his body would be satisfied and allow him to sleep instead of keeping him awake.

After Dylan had drank some more, Ryan handed him the protein bars. “Eat.”

“No thanks.”

“Eat,” he commanded.

And Dylan ate. Neither one of them really liked protein bars as a rule but they satisfied the stomach more than granola did, since they were, of course, packed with enough protein to keep a bodybuilder satisfied after a workout.

When the food was nothing more than a memory and the coffee was nearly gone, Ryan pointed Dylan in the direction of one of the guest rooms. Dylan went without a single word of complaint, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. After about ten minutes, the sound of snoring echoed down the hallway.

Good. He’ll feel better when he wakes up.

At least, he’d feel as good upon awakening as a person could when in his situation. If nothing else, he would have had some strength restored to allow him to go through this tragedy without running himself into the ground.

Ryan would do anything to prevent that from happening.

Though the temptation was to linger out here in the living room, keeping a watchful eye on Dylan’s doorway, he was still exhausted himself. He wouldn’t be useful to anyone if he was the one running himself into the ground. To that end, he got up off the couch and went back to his own room. Despite the strengthening light from outside, sleep washed over him in an instant.

Only a few hours later, he was woken again. This time, it wasn’t by frantic pounding, but instead by the abrupt knowledge that he was being watched. This knowledge stole through his dreams, puncturing right through them, and he snapped awake with a wary little growl. Dawn had become full morning, and he could see every inch of his bedroom. Everything was exactly as it should have been except for one little detail.

Dylan was standing over him, silhouetted from the sunshine hitting his back. His shoulders were slumped, and he looked as if he might be sleepwalking, except that Ryan could somehow sense this wasn’t the case.

“Dylan?” he said, a little warily. He couldn’t sense a threat here but this situation was an unusual one all the same. “What’s wrong?”

Dylan seemed to contemplate the question before shrugging. “Everything? Be more specific.”

“Okay. What’s wrong right this minute?”

“I woke up and I just...my soul hurts. It all hurts so much. How the hell am I going to get through this? How does anyone get through this, Ryan?”

“Plenty of people do,” Ryan said, very firmly. He propped himself up on his elbow. Being beneath the omega, having a conversation like this, was awkward, but somehow pleasant. “I’ll help you. You’ll make it.”

He didn’t think this was the right time to explain that he was going to offer up every cent of his life savings. It wouldn’t quite be enough, but maybe it would help buy more time to bring in the rest.

“I’ll talk to the bank with you. We’ll get this worked out. Or hell, the police in Baneberry could catch on to something and bring this all down around the head of whatever bastard thought they could do this.”

“Maybe.” Dylan didn’t seem convinced. “I just...I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”

“When they find Hunter, you’ll scare him if you look like this. He’s going to need you to be strong for him.”

“I...”

“Without sleep, you might just put yourself in the hospital. And then what? Hunter has to come see his dad looking all sick and vulnerable?”

“Can I sleep with you?”

Ryan blinked. He couldn’t have been more surprised by the request. Hugs were one thing. Sleeping in the same bed was another. It seemed to cross a line of some sort, one that had been drawn in the sand without him even having realized it. Women might have no qualms about such things, but that didn’t mean it was exactly a comfortable situation for everyone.

Then again...

He hesitated.

They weren’t just people. They were wolves. Wolves touched more than people did. They communicated with more than just sound, but also scent and the movement of their bodies. Get pups together in the same place and those who weren’t playing would be asleep in a huge pile of fluff.

If Dylan needed comfort in such a manner, to share a sleeping place with the person he trusted most in the world, who was Ryan to deny him of that?

“Sure,” he said, and slid over to leave more than enough room on the mattress for Dylan to crawl up. After all, they didn’t need to cuddle. They could just...be here. Together. Feeling the other’s warmth, knowing that no matter what happened they would at least have each other.

Dylan slid into bed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Ryan was already in the same position. Neither of them said a thing to the other, though it was clear that they were both thinking the same things.

The experience was something unusual, certainly, but Ryan was overcome by a feeling that he had been in this same position before. And of course he had, because this was how they used to sleep when they were pups and it was time for bed. They would lie here exactly like this and whisper things to each other that they couldn’t ask the adults, little boy ponderings that could have been so easily answered in only a few years—if they remembered the questions, of course.

Inevitably, one of the adults would come in and hush them and that would be the end of it until the next sleepover.

He had a feeling that if they asked questions in such a manner tonight, they would only bring themselves closer to madness.

Dylan shifted a little. The movement of his body tugged on the covers. Ryan was about to playfully reprimand him for wiggling when he felt the soft touch of the other’s hand on his. With no one there to see, with no one to judge them, Ryan grasped that hand and held it very tight.

Dylan seemed to relax, if only a little. And then he spoke, in the same wondering tone he had when he was a pup and the world was still new. “Who did you see in the well?”

Ryan went very still. He had almost forgotten about that in the wake of everything else. “Who did you see?” he asked in response.

“I didn’t.”

Ryan closed his eyes. No. Oh, my poor Dylan.

“You mean you saw nothing? Like Jake?” Like Jake, who had theorized that this meant he had no need to be shown who his true mate was. It was clear that the other wolf thought that to protect himself from bitterness, but they knew so little that it might as well have been true.

“No,” Dylan replied. He closed his eyes. “I mean that I was about to see something but I got pulled away from it just before I could tell who he was.”

“He?” Ryan held his breath. “You saw a man?”

And Dylan sighed, as if the confession had somehow lifted the weight of the world from his shoulders. “Yeah. I guess the truth comes out tonight, doesn’t it?”

The truth?

“Seems real shitty that like, all this happens now when everything is falling apart. Ryan, I’m gay. I always have been.”

“Oh.”

What else could he say? More shapeshifters than humans tended to be gay so this wasn’t exactly unheard of, but he never would have suspected it, even though in secret he still entertained thoughts of that night. “But what about Arden?”

“I...I don’t know if I can tell you that. The whole truth. Not right now.” Dylan turned his head away. He was keeping his thoughts very guarded, not allowing Ryan even a peek at their contents. “Just...I...It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. You know? But I’m gay. I think I’ve always been gay. So, I saw a man. But I don’t know who he was.”

I could probably wager a guess.

Dylan turned away even more and his voice was choked, muffled by the pillow. “I know who I want him to be. But I think hoping for anything right now is only going to fuck me over. Hope is fucking useless. All it does is hurt.” He paused. “But you saw someone?”

This isn’t the right time.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Who was it? Did you know her?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I knew him.”

Dylan twitched a little in surprise but didn’t turn to look at him, still utterly focused on the wall in front of him. “You saw a man?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure the wishing well thinks I’m gay.”

“But you’re not! I mean, you’ve...I know you’ve slept with a lot of women!”

“Yeah. I guess I have.”

The question was, why had none of those encounters ever held a candle to the one drunken night he’d spent with Dylan? There had been all sorts of women in his life. Pretty teens who’d just turned 18, and older women looking to feel alive again. He’d had smart-mouthed ex-cheerleaders who thought the world revolved around beauty, and he’d had some truly beautiful women who were kind and sweet. He’d had plenty of chances to develop feelings for a woman other than the desire for sex, but he hadn’t, so he’d just come to accept that this was his position in life. In a way, he could even see some sense in it. He had an entire pack to take care of now. He couldn’t do that wholeheartedly if he had a mate and kids to look after.

Dylan was still waiting for some sort of answer, not that Ryan knew how to give it. But he had to try.

“I think, once upon a time, I had a wild night of drunk sex with a handsome omega wolf. And then nothing ever came of it. I think the universe is telling me something should have.”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“How many drunk omegas have you slept with?”

“A lot. But men? Just one.”

Dylan’s voice became quieter and quieter as their conversation wore on. He was trembling in the bed, almost convulsing his shivers were so intense. He seemed right on the verge of some impossible discovery, though Ryan couldn’t imagine what discovery this might be. “You saw me.”

“Yeah. I did.”

This conversation shouldn’t have happened.

It wasn’t the right time to speak of such things. There was too much going on, and none of it was good. It just added another level of complication to a situation that didn’t really need any further dilemmas to go along with it. If it was possible, he would have taken back everything he said and just pretended to be asleep so he could avoid this entire conversation until a better time. After all, they had both waited so long to discover this. A few more weeks, a few months, another year, would have meant very little in the grand scheme of things.

Suddenly, Dylan burst out in a gale of loud huffing sounds that ripped up his throat from very deep inside his chest. There was no telling if he was laughing or crying.

Ryan rolled over and reached out to touch his shoulder. His fingers tingled with the realization that he wasn’t just touching his best friend. He was touching his mate. His mate was here in bed with him, at his side. His mate had always been at his side and he had just never known it.

“Dylan?” he asked. Worry knotted in his stomach. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Dylan suddenly rolled over. His blue-green eyes were very bright with something which just might be hysteria. Tears streaked his cheeks but he was smiling, laughing, though his amusement seemed bittersweet. “You have no idea,” he said. His voice wobbled all over the place. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been in love with you. Oh, my god. Why is everything going right and falling apart at the same time?” He slammed his fist against the mattress.

Ryan stared at him. “In love with me?”

“No one in this world would put up with as much of your shit as I have, if they didn’t love you!” Dylan cried out. He kept laughing and crying, seemingly incapable of stopping.

Alarmed by all of this, not knowing what else to do, Ryan reached out for him. The moment his fingers contacted his best friend’s soft skin, a surge of tingles burst up his arms and seemed to sink into his body, inhabiting his veins. Everything he had felt that fateful night was here again and this time he thought it might be here to stay.

Dylan startled them both, pushing against the mattress and rolling right into Ryan’s arms. He stared into Ryan’s eyes. “You fucking idiot,” Dylan said. His tone was warped with amusement and just a tinge of anger. “You stupid fuckface.”

The moment the immature nickname left his lips, Dylan leaned in. Their noses brushed. Their foreheads touched. And their mouths ghosted together, softness passing by in a glancing contact so light it might not have happened at all but for the tingles that remained.

Ryan drew back, a little breathless. No, he was more than a little breathless. He felt as if he’d gone wolf and run the length of the city without slowing down. His legs were wobbly and his chest was tight, but these weren’t bad sensations. Rather, the feeling of near-exhaustion was almost invigorating, as if he had gone through something very fulfilling but had no memory of it. He wanted more of the same, over and over again until he was replete.

But he couldn’t. Because this wasn’t the right time.

“Dylan,” he said, on the verge of launching into a long explanation about how they shouldn’t do this. Hell, knowing that Dylan had been wanting this for so long, that he had probably been dreaming of this day since the moment he knew what sex was, only made it worse. “This is like taking advantage of you.”

At least when they were both drunk and horny, they’d been in a good place in life. This wasn’t exactly the time to start a relationship.

But Dylan reached out and touched a finger to his lips. The urge to bite it was overwhelming, as it would have been on any other day, but this was different. Where before he would have snapped at the offending finger and probably succeeded in getting it real good, now he wanted to nip, to hold it in his mouth, to lick it.

“I need you to shut up,” Dylan said, almost kindly, “and not ruin this for me. I have had the worst day that a guy could ever have and my nerves are shot. I have no idea what to do with myself. This week is going to...I can’t even comprehend it. I don’t want to, and I’m not even sure I can. I’m so scared...”

“I just want to feel for a few minutes that everything is going to be okay. I want to think that at the end of all this, everything will be the way it’s supposed to be. Please, just give me a chance to have that.”

Ryan looked into those eyes that had always been watching him even though he never knew it. They were still haunted, still shadowed by the events of the past day, but there seemed to be a light shining from deep within them. The light was hardly anything, little more than the flicker of a match in the depths of a cave system, and he knew it might go out if he didn’t nurture it.

That light would be so important in the coming days.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re calling the shots, dickhead.”

Dylan smiled and the light in his eyes grew brighter. Looking at that change, Ryan thought that he just might be able to love this man. And by love, he meant more than the way he loved a friend. It was only a flicker of thought, there and then gone again, but he felt changed by its passing.

Dylan leaned in and their lips touched again. It was almost like vertigo to be kissing his best friend, but then the dizziness passed for Ryan and he settled in for the long haul.

Dylan tasted like old, bitter coffee, but beneath that there was a sweetness, so subtle and light that no other taste in the world would compare to it.

Ryan settled his lips more firmly against Dylan’s, feeling the firm line of his muscles and the unique cadence with which he breathed. He felt that breath on his mouth and he breathed it in, and the act of sharing the very air was more intimate than even the kiss.

I’ve been waiting for this forever.

Ryan didn’t know if the thought was his or if he had become privy to a glimpse at Dylan’s mind for a moment. Maybe there was no difference at all. They were connected.

Their kiss parted for only a second and then they were pressing together again, lips colliding, crushing together. The intensity ramped up in only a matter of moments, and soon they were attempting to devour the other’s mouth, locking in a battle of passion.

A growl rose in Ryan’s throat. He placed one hand on Dylan’s shoulder, trying to get leverage. Making out while lying down wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world. Dylan wriggled underneath him, laughing against his lips. “Stop! That tickles!”

“You’re ticklish?” Ryan propped up on both elbows, though that position was no more comfortable than the last. “Since when?”

“Since just now, I guess.” Dylan reached up and wrapped his arms around Ryan’s neck, pulling him in very close. “Kiss me more. Please? I’ve wanted this for so long, please kiss me.”

He was powerless to disagree.

Their lips pressed together again, but now that they had been at it a few times, they had already learned the other’s rhythm. The mere movement of their lips wasn’t going to be enough.

Ryan flicked out his tongue, tasting Dylan. In response, Dylan’s lips parted to allow Ryan inside. He slid in with a shudder, pressing his tongue as deep as it could go, exploring the inside of Dylan’s mouth. Hot, wet heat slid together and then away again, then back together once more.

Dylan had his fingers in Ryan’s hair, playing with the golden locks. Ryan would have been doing the same but there really wasn’t much hair on Dylan’s head to play with. Frustration nagged at him from the position he was in, incapable of doing what he wanted to the degree that he desired. The wolf inside him was waking up, demanding to take this to completion. It wanted to claim. It wanted to own.

He released his grip from Dylan’s shoulders but kept their mouths pressed together, letting the kiss continue on while he moved. He straddled Dylan with an arm and a leg on either side of his body, holding him in place with his greater weight.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Dylan whispered.

“You damn sure aren’t,” Ryan growled in response. “Not when I’ve got you right where I want you.”

He let this promise linger against Dylan’s lips with another deep kiss, though this one was intentionally brief. He pulled back and sat up a little, being sure to bear his own weight so that he didn’t crush his partner. Dylan held onto his hips, smiling like Ryan had never seen him smile before. He imagined it was the same sort of smile Dylan must have worn on their one night together, but he hadn’t been able to see it because he’d been behind him.

He wasn’t going to be behind tonight. This wasn’t some anonymous lover whose face was only secondary to their willingness to have sex. This was Dylan, who deserved eye contact and respect.

Ryan leaned forward a little, letting the heat of his throbbing organ settle against Dylan. Dylan pulled in a quick, overheated breath and reached for his bulge, only to find his hands being held down over his head.

“Going to have to wait for that,” Ryan growled.

Dylan stared up at him and then furrowed his brow, pursing his lips out in a pout. “You’re a foreplay man.”

“I’m a make-‘em-beg kinda guy.” Ryan paused. If he wanted this to be the best for his friend, he might want to play by Dylan’s rules instead of his own. “You not interested?”

Dylan smiled, but it quivered on his lips. “Can’t say I’ve had much foreplay in my sex life before.”

There was something unspoken beneath those words, as if a secret was held within them, but Ryan was pretty sure he knew what that secret was. Here was a man who claimed to have been gay his entire life, who had probably had sex with a woman more than a few times whether he liked it or not. Foreplay was out of the question in that scenario because it wouldn’t get Dylan hot. It would probably do the opposite.

Plus, he didn’t think Arden was the most passionate woman in the world. With every new thing he learned, he had to wonder why Dylan had chosen her to pretend to be straight with. But there would be time for that later.

“Okay,” he said, probably a little louder than he needed to. “Wham, bam, thank you sir, it is.”

He couldn’t stop himself from placing another lingering kiss on those passion-swollen lips, or from stroking his hand down Dylan’s chest to feel the soft curves of his muscles, but he drew away immediately afterwards. He sat on his side of the bed and grabbed at the hem of his shirt. “Get naked, Dilly,” he said.

Dylan laughed and obeyed, sitting up to wiggle out of his clothes. Ryan stood up to undo his jeans, pushing them down to his feet and then kicking them away. This wasn’t exactly the first time they’d seen each other naked, even if you didn’t count the drunk sex. They had bathed in the same tub as pups, had been in the same locker room at school. Their bodies were familiar to one another in ways that men didn’t normally admit to.

This was different. An entirely new experience, glimpsed through eyes that felt as if they had been opened for the very first time. All the things he had noticed before about Dylan’s body in passing were now on display for him to really appreciate.

Though more slender than Ryan, Dylan’s shoulders were broad in their own way, curving around at the front to sculpted abs and nicely defined pecs. The lines of muscles and tendon stood out from underneath soft skin, the kind so smooth it almost seemed slippery, permanently oiled for a day of tanning at the beach. He had curves in all the right places, and didn’t have them in the wrong places. His biceps were large and sharp from all the physical labor he did each day.

His waist was somewhat slimmer than his shoulders, but his thighs were a thing to be dreamed of. And his dick...

Ryan hadn’t ever thought of a dick as a pretty thing before. It was a tool for pleasure that served its purpose quite nicely. He might be proud of his own girth and length, but he never would have described it with embellishments, trying to make more of it than there was.

Once again, looking at Dylan made him feel differently.

At first there was only the bulge outlined against soft blue fabric, and then Dylan pulled those down to reveal himself in all his glory. He had a small, soft thatch of golden brown curls from which jutted the prettiest dick Ryan had ever seen. It was pale but threaded with delicate blue veins, stretched to the absolute limit of its abilities by his current arousal. The tip was swollen red, like lips waiting to be kissed, to be worshipped.

Ryan couldn’t help himself. A sensation overcame him that wasn’t like anything he’d ever known, a sudden desire at the back of his throat. He slid up onto the bed and leaned over to very softly kiss the tip of Dylan’s dick. The flesh was surprisingly harder than it seemed when just looking at it, but this discovery came as a pleasant surprise. He tasted sweetness and salt.

Fingers slid into his hair, not urging him towards anything, but simply enjoying the attention. Dylan let out a soft whimper. “Ryan...don’t tease me...”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Ryan purred. His purr was rusty and a little more akin to a growl, but he figured it was all about the same anyway. He came up to kiss Dylan’s lips, then leaned away to rummage around in the nightstand until he found what he was looking for: lube. Placing it on the bed, he started to perform another search through the drawer’s contents, but paused.

Condoms were damn important for any single guy to have, and he did have a few there at the bottom of the drawer, but it was always so much harder to cum when he was wearing one. He didn’t want anything to get between them.

We’re only doing it this once anyway. It won’t make a difference.

“What are you doing?” Dylan asked, sounding a little impatient. “I’m dying over here!”

Ryan laughed and came up again, trying to play it off as he handed over the lube. “Do you think that’s going to be enough?”

“It’s my butt, not a desert!” Dylan scowled at him and snatched it from his hand. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate and Ryan watched him very carefully, because this might very well be when they changed their minds and had to call the whole thing off. He wouldn’t have been upset or angry, but he did need to see the decision being made for himself, so that Dylan didn’t have to pretend he wanted it if he didn’t.

However, Dylan’s eyes cleared, and he flipped open the bottle’s cap to squirt out a liberal amount of his fingertips. Ryan met those eyes, which right now were like a calm sea just before the storm brewing on the horizon broke wide open.

Dylan got up on his knees, turned around, and got down on his hands and knees. Lifting his ass up in the air, he displayed himself for Ryan to see. One hand went back, fingers gently probing for his soft pink opening.

Ryan held his breath and held himself. He could feel his pulse throbbing in his dick and had to restrain himself from seeking out his own pleasure. There would be time yet for that.

Dylan smeared the gel all over his opening, pressing back to grind his ass against his fingers. He moaned, rocking slightly, then pushed back against his slick fingers even harder than before. Ryan watched with fascination as every muscle Dylan had seemed to relax, and two fingertips disappeared in his opening. His fingers moved, spreading lube, stretching and preparing himself.

Grabbing the lube while he watched, Ryan slathered gel on his twitching cock and waited for the right moment to pounce.

Dylan whimpered louder than before, starting to buck against his fingers. “Ah,” he moaned, thrusting them deeper inside himself. Frustration entered his tone. “Ryan...can’t go deep enough...”

Those words ignited something deep inside him. It was more than just simply pleasure, more than a want. It was a need, an animalistic drive to satisfy. He had been deprived of this for so long and now he needed it, in the same way as he needed water to quench his thirst. There was fire inside him, begging to be kindled.

Ryan grabbed onto Dylan’s hips and positioned himself behind him. With one hand, he grabbed his cock and placed his engorged tip against that ready opening. The muscles had relaxed, ready and waiting to accommodate him.

He sank in, pushing through to Dylan’s very core in one slow movement. The experience was a hell of pleasure, one which was over much too soon. He would have dragged on that sensation of sliding, the feel of experiencing those unique bumps and whorls gliding over his surface, for an eternity if he could. Gasping and moaning, he tossed his head back and tried to press himself in even deeper, though there was no more room left to accommodate him. He was buried in Dylan up to his hilt, ass pressing against thighs. His tip was striking against that special, intimate place deep inside that men had, the one that could bring them to orgasm from within. He could go no further.

But he wanted to. The urge to drive himself in so far that they were inseparable was one he could not control, and he withdrew a few inches to slam back in, again and again. Over and over, he hit that place inside Dylan.

The omega wolf beneath him writhed and yelped with pure delight, shoving back against him. His muscles clenched and loosened again and again, trying to grab onto Ryan and pull him in even deeper. He was out of control, on the verge of losing himself.

Ryan felt Dylan shaking and started thrusting faster, pushing them both towards the edge of orgasm. Each clench, each squeeze of those muscles around his dick was almost more than he could bear. He held onto Dylan, squeezing him, leaving bruises beneath his fingers, digging in his nails.

Bite him. Bite him. Bite him.

They were wolves and they were meant to be mates, if the wishing well was to be believed. There was no reason not to obey the litany pulsing through his mind, to take the words as law as they were spoken by his wolf half. He could bite Dylan, drive them both into orgasm, declaring them the couple they should have been all this time.

But he couldn’t, because to do so was to take further advantage of a man in a vulnerable situation. The risks outweighed the reward, especially because a mark was such a public thing.

But the urge was hot on him, and he could feel Dylan’s own desire, and the doubled sensation was driving him quickly over the edge. He leaned over the back of Dylan’s neck, breathing hotly on him, then suddenly wrenched his head around to the side to bite against the pillow. At the same time, he thrust as hard and fast as it was within his power to do, slamming Dylan down against the mattress.

Dylan raised his ass and let himself be ridden. Then, suddenly, his squeal tapered off into a short howl and all the muscles in his body went ridged.

Squeezed like that, held still, compressed so painfully and pleasurably, Ryan groaned into the pillow and came.

Heat surrounded him, and all he knew was heat. Hot, red, sexual heat. If he was shaking, if he was spilling his seed, if he was falling off the bed, he wouldn’t have cared. He was lost in the storm. It had come and taken him and he went with it willingly, riding the overheated currents until they’d had enough of him.

When he managed to open his eyes again, any amount of time could have passed and he would think it was acceptable. He was completely exhausted, in body and in mind.

He was slumped over Dylan, letting all his weight press down on the omega.

“Sorry,” he grunted, and started to move off.

A hand reached back and clutched at him. “Don’t go,” Dylan sighed softly. “I like it.”

And so he stayed, letting Dylan feel him as their bodies were still joined together. When the last shocks of pleasure had finally faded away, Dylan started stirring beneath him and Ryan rolled off. Neither of them said anything, not quite sure where they were supposed to go from here.

Ryan looked up at the ceiling, trying to get over the fact that this was still happening. He wasn’t going to wake up from it. This was his reality now, and he was going to have to deal with it and all the difficulties that came with it. Would there still be pleasure? He didn’t know. After this morning, nothing was going to be certain.

Beside him, he could feel Dylan struggling with his own doubts. After having had sex, their wolf spirits were more in tune than ever and he could clearly feel how exhausted Dylan was still.

“What time is it?” Dylan finally murmured. His words were slurred with exhaustion. In Ryan’s experience, omegas usually wanted to stay up and talk after having had sex, but Dylan was run ragged and nothing short of a nuclear bomb would keep him awake now.

Ryan glanced over at the clock, which was on Dylan’s side of the bed. “It’s just after 7 a.m.,” he replied. “You can sleep for another hour or two. I’ll wake you.”

“But...what about the shop? And Hunter? The police? So much to do...” Dylan spoke softer and softer, each question coming quieter than the last. He was fading fast. His eyes weren’t even open now. His head sank down on the pillow, not seeming to mind the gouged bits of fabric sticking in his face from where Ryan had torn into it.

“The shop can survive without you. You’re still on vacation, remember?”

Dylan didn’t answer, though he might have smiled. If he did, the expression was so soft that anyone who didn’t know him might have said he hadn’t emoted at all. The dark depths of sleep were drawing him in, luring him away to a more perfect sort of world where his current hardships didn’t exist. At least, that’s what Ryan hoped. He wanted peaceful sleep for Dylan, not a plague of nightmares.

“The police are doing their jobs. You won’t help anything by getting in the way.”

And if anyone wants to mess with you, I won’t let them. As long as you’re going through this, I’ll protect you.

He didn’t know if Dylan was able to hear his thoughts or not, but his intent was clear.

Dylan curled on his side, bringing his fists up close to his face and drawing his knees toward his chest. Then, he shapeshifted. In the blink of an eye he was a man no longer, but an average-sized wolf, large and formidable for an omega. His fur was smoky gray in coloration, darker around his paws and face, with lighter swirls like ash flecked across his stomach.

Looking down at him, Ryan felt his heart strings being tugged. Dylan was such a strong and capable man, almost defying the position given to him at his birth by becoming a business owner. He had nerves and a steel will that so many other wolves, alpha and beta alike, could never hope to compare to. He bore a few scars, mostly remnants of accidents while working, and these further demonstrated that he was willing to take risks for what he loved—even when he shouldn’t.

But in sleep, he was robbed of that hard edge. He looked like the softest omega on earth, almost frail, as if he would break if handled the wrong way. Beneath the fluffed fur, he appeared much smaller than he actually was.

Ryan shapeshifted too, and curled himself around Dylan. He was almost twice the size of the other wolf, able to encircle him almost completely so that his tail tip and nose were only a few inches apart. Their fur contrasted, as Ryan was stark white all over but for a few yellowish guard hairs in the places where his pelt was thickest, like shadows on ice.

They were so dissimilar, yet they were both the same despite that. They were made of the same stuff, just people trying to get through life with the cards they’d been handed.

In only an hour or two, the peace of this moment would end. There was darkness and fear out there, caused by horrible people who were on the verge of doing terrible things. They would have to put aside who they were and who they wanted to be, in order to have any chance of defeating that darkness.

Ryan let his chest rest on top of Dylan’s head and sighed very softly. I’ll be through it the rest of the way with you.

Only when he was certain that Dylan was asleep did he allow himself to relax.