Sloane was mad. That much was certain. He just didn’t know if the wolf was mad about D’s father or having to put D up for the day.
With the way D’s life was going, it was probably both.
“There,” Sloane said as he attached the last curtain. “Now get some sleep.”
D watched as the wolf left the room, shutting the door behind him.
This wasn’t exactly what he had planned when he ran here, but damn if sleeping in his mate’s bed wasn’t nice. He curled onto his side and closed his eyes, a smile on his face for the first time in months.
Chapter Three
Sloane opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he stretched and scratched at his chest. He could still see the sun, which meant it wasn’t time for D to get up yet. Pushing away from the couch, Sloane padded upstairs in his bare feet as he went to check on his mate.
Cracking the door open, he saw the vampire lying in the middle of his bed, the blankets pulled all the way over his head.
Satisfied that his mate hadn’t been burned, he closed the door quietly and found his way into the kitchen. He heated up some leftovers and took a seat when his phone vibrated on the table. Sloane picked it up to see he had a few missed calls. One was from his cousin, Maverick, and two were from Chance.
As he stabbed at his food, Sloane called his cousin. “You call me?”
“I just wanted to know if D was over there with you. The Lakelands woke this morning to find him missing.” The alpha’s tone was clipped, as if he hated playing the messenger boy.
That would
explain Chance’s calls.
“He’s here.”
“Change your mind?”
Sloane winced when he heard the humorous curiosity in Maverick’s tone. He could tell the alpha was going to have fun with this bit of news. Placing his fork on the table, Sloane ran a hand over his head as he leaned back.
“Sort of.”
Maverick’s deep chuckle made Sloane’s back teeth grind. “I would say more than sort of if he’s there. And since it’s still daylight, is he in your bed, cousin?”
“That is none of your damn business!” Sloane shouted and then cursed at his response. His uncharacteristic shout told Maverick everything he didn’t want the man to know.
“Have you claimed him?”
Sloane growled as his fingers curled harder around the phone.
“I’m just fucking with you.” Maverick chuckled and then sobered. “I’m glad you two are trying to work things out. You were getting on my damn nerves brooding around here, snapping at everyone. I thought I was going to have to bury your body under D’s floorboards.”
That was the closest the man was going to get to saying he was happy for Sloane. He cleared his throat, knowing that he was going to have to tell the alpha about what was going on. “Dudley’s father called.”
The other end fell silent. With his superior hearing, Sloane could make out a very low rumble. It had to be coming from Maverick because Sloane lived alone, aside from a sleeping vampire in his bed.
“And what did he say?”
Sloane glanced up at the ceiling, knowing D was right above him.
“He said he’s coming to fix D’s screwup. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that the man is referring to me.”
“Did D call him?” Maverick asked with a bite.
“Yeah, right before I let him crash in my bed. Do I look stupid to you?”
There was a grunt on the other end.
“Dudley ran over here to warn me as soon as he spoke to his father.” He didn’t feel as though he had to explain a damn thing to Maverick, but Sloane was saying it more out of astonishment than anything else. Anything could have happened to his mate on his way over here, but D had thrown caution to the wind and chanced his safety to warn Sloane.
That had to count for something, right?
He still wanted to paddle the man’s ass for putting himself in danger. There were so many creatures running around these parts lately that it wasn’t even safe to walk out onto the damn front porch.
And D had run a good five miles to warn him. Sloane glanced up at the ceiling again, sighing.
“Keep him safe while I try and find out what’s going on with his father. His brothers were a pain in the ass, but easy enough to scare away. I have a feeling his father won’t be.”
“Thanks.” Sloane ran his hand over his head, something he did when he was frustrated or nervous. “I’m going to go check on him.”
Sloane hung up the phone and tossed it on the table. He said he would give D another chance, and that was what he was going to do.
The chair scraped across the floor as Sloane left the kitchen. He stood at the bottom of the steps for a moment, glancing up before he ascended the stairs. He raised his hand and knocked softly just in case D was still asleep.
A growl left his lips as he realized he was knocking on his own damn bedroom door. This was crazy. He pushed the door open to see D sitting up in the middle of the bed, his smoky-black hair rumpled as he glanced at Sloane.
“I was just seeing if you were hungry.”
“Why, are you offering me your vein?” D asked with a smile. It was the most natural smile Sloane had ever seen. His mate had that sexy just-woke-up look, making everything about him wholesome and natural.
“I forgot,” he said as he leaned against the cream-colored wall, tucking his arms behind him. He knew his mate needed to feed. His skin coloration was proof, but Sloane wasn’t sure he was ready for that step yet. It was something intimate, something private, and they were just now working things out. “I can call the Lakelands to get your supply.”
D’s smile wavered a bit and then fell back into place, only the twinkle of merriment was missing from his dark eyes this time.
“Okay.” D scooted to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling over.
Sloane had insisted on a second mattress to make the bed higher, but he could see that it was a bit high for his mate. “But don’t let Chauncey bring it. That last time he brought me some blood to my room, he sat there for half an hour wondering aloud about whose blood was in the bag. I was starving by the time he handed it over.”
Sloane couldn’t catch the growl as it ripped from his chest. He didn’t like anyone making his mate starve. D was already gaunt enough as it was.
“No! He’s a really nice guy. Don’t get me wrong. He’s just a bit odd.” D defended the bear quickly, which only pissed Sloane off more. He hated the fact that everyone knew D so well and Sloane stood here clueless.
“The sun will set in about an hour. There are fresh towels in the hall closet, and I’ll have some of your clothes sent over.”
“I can stay?” D gaped at him as if Sloane’s offer were unreal.
Sloane stood up straight, waving a hand in D’s direction. “It seems you can’t listen when I tell you to stay inside. You’re going to stay here where I can keep an eye on your wandering ass.”
It was a flimsy excuse, but Sloane wasn’t willing to put his heart out there just yet and give D the real reason why he wanted him there.
“I’ll see you downstairs.” He took a step back, his eyes regarding D once more before he left the room.
* * * *
D sat there stunned. He had come here this morning to warn Sloane about his father, but had no clue that he would become Sloane’s houseguest. The very idea made him want to jump up and down, shouting that he was finally with his mate, but he also wanted to vomit at the same time from the fear that he would screw this up.
So D settled for a small smile and an arm pump.
After an hour, D slid from the bed and padded out of the room to the hall closet, grabbing some towels and then snooping around until he found the bathroom. D set his towels down on the closed toilet seat, assessing himself in the mirror.
Fuck, he looked like total shit. He ran his hands through his limp hair, turning his head one way and then the other, finally seeing what everyone else saw—a vampire who looked like he should be dead from the coloring of his skin.
He shuddered as he looked away from the glass and turned the water on. Stripping down naked, D stepped under the spray, the heat soaking into his tired bones. The water felt good on his skin as he started to scrub his thin body.
D had been so out of it the past few months that he hadn’t even noticed or cared what he had looked like. Now that he was taking a closer look at the sickly way his skin hung from him, he knew he had to put some weight back on and get his pale glow back.
After he was finished showering, D scrubbed his hair dry and then wrapped a towel around his waist as he headed back toward the bedroom. He didn’t have any clothes to change into yet, so he sat back on the bed. The damn thing was so high off of the ground that D nearly had to jump to get onto the mattress.
He strummed his fingers on his legs, feeling stupid sitting there naked save for a cotton towel around his lean waist. His head snapped around when he heard a sharp intake of breath. Sloane was standing there with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his eyes glued to D’s naked torso.
D had a strong urge to cover his exposed body. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping properly in months. His figure must be a frightful sight to his mate. D knew he looked like shit, but he didn’t need Sloane’s sharp and assessing eyes telling him the truth.
Sloane sat D’s duffel bag on the bed, unzipping it, and fished through it until he pulled out a bag of blood. “Am I supposed to heat this first?” he asked as he bounced his hand up and down with the weight of the bag.
D drooled at the sight of his food. “You can,” he whispered as he grabbed the duffel, digging through it for a shirt to put on. D didn’t like his mate looking at him as if he disgusted the guy. Once he yanked the T-shirt over his head and let it fall down to his waist, D was able to look up at Sloane, knowing his mate wasn’t staring at his figure.
“How long?” Sloane asked as his fingers gripped the bag.
“Just until it’s warm. You know, body temperature.” He scraped his teeth over his lower lip, wishing Sloane would leave so he could finish dressing. Stretching across the bed, D shuffled through the bag until he found a pair of jeans and some socks. There was even an extra pair of sneakers in there. Whoever packed the bag had been thoughtful. His toothbrush was in there as well.
Sloane gave a silent nod as he left D to get dressed. As soon as his mate was gone, D jumped from the bed and yanked his jeans and socks on, feeling less exposed now that his skinny ass was covered.
He snagged his toothbrush from the bed and walked back to the bathroom. Just as he rinsed his mouth he heard Sloane downstairs cursing up a storm. He was using words D hadn’t even heard before.
Panic seized him as he ran from the bathroom and raced downstairs, fearing his father had found them.
He skidded to a halt in the kitchen, his head snapping around looking for the cause of his mate’s outburst. His mouth dropped open as he watched Sloane standing there yelling at the microwave as blood dripped from the counter, hitting the floor and making a nasty mess. D threw his hand over his mouth, stifling the snicker.
Chance had done that same thing once before when he had heated the bag of blood. It was obvious that Sloane had left it in there too long and the bag cooked open. D hurried over to the paper towels and began ripping them off the roll.
As funny as the situation was to him, he didn’t want to test Sloane’s patience. He was being given another chance, and D didn’t want to be tossed out on his ass because he was laughing at his mate.
“What the fuck happened?” Sloane asked as he stepped back.
“You put the bag on for too long,” D replied as he soaked up the blood with the towels. “I forgot to tell you to open the bag and pour the blood into a cup. It’s much easier that way.”
Sloane didn’t look impressed. He looked pissed. D averted his eyes as he cleaned up the mess.
“You could have told me this upstairs before I blew the damn thing up.” Sloane yanked paper towels from the roll and began to wipe down the cupboards under the counter.
“I can get that,” D said as he tossed the drenched towels into the trash can and reached for more. He felt as though he were walking on eggshells around the man. One false move, one screwup, and he was going to be alone for all eternity. It made D nervous and jumpy. The tension in the room was thick between them as Sloane grabbed some cleaning spray.
D made warm soapy water and then began to clean out the mess inside the microwave. The smell was nauseating as he scrubbed the dried blood from inside the machine. He almost gagged as he squeezed the sponge out in the bowl and began to wipe again.
He looked over his shoulder when he noticed that Sloane had been standing there staring down at the floor. D looked down, but the blood was cleaned up. What was Sloane staring at? Or more importantly, what was his mate thinking?
D felt his muscles coil, waiting for Sloane to say he couldn’t do this. That it was too much for him to handle. D held his breath as he waited for the wolf to say something, anything. He turned to clean the bowl in the sink when Sloane grabbed his upper arm. D glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Sloane was staring right at him. D was unable to move, unable to breathe, still not believing that he was here, right here in Sloane’s home. But the small bit of elation deflated as Sloane kept staring at him with such raw hurt in his eyes. D swallowed hard as he waited to be told to leave. He could feel it coming.
“I don’t like being clueless about caring for you,” Sloane finally said, his eyes never leaving D’s. It looked as though it took a lot out of his mate to confess that. “I need you to tell me everything when I ask. Don’t forget the details.”
D nodded quickly as he pulled his arm free and cleaned the bowl out in the sink. He stared at the running water as it glided over his hands. “I should have told you. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
This was it. Sloane was going to tell him to get his things and go back to the Lakelands. D bit his bottom lip, feeling as if he would cry as Sloane left the kitchen. Why did he always have to fuck up? Why couldn’t he do anything right? D felt like the world’s biggest loser as he dried the bowl and set it on the counter, wondering what Sloane was doing upstairs.