Authors: Susan Laine
Crow chuckled. “That’s wolves, honey. What about lycans?”
Ignoring the awful endearment, Jim replied, “Maybe if you gave me a hint….”
“Lycan mating. What do you know about that?” Dak asked.
“Um… every lycan has a mate. Could be human, or lycan, or anything really. They’re supposed to know each other instinctively by pheromones and such. They mate for life.” Jim wasn’t 100 percent sure about what he’d just said, but there were a lot of rumors floating about. Some of that had to be accurate or as close as.
Crow was positively pleased now. “And how does dear old Dak make you feel, Jim?”
For a moment, Jim’s brain was too frozen to comprehend. Then the meaning dawned on him. The instant arousal, the need, the hunger.
He turned to Dak, who still wasn’t looking at him. “
I’m your mate?
”
When Dak didn’t respond, just gritted his teeth audibly, it fell to Crow to reply with no small amount of amusement. “Well, you’re
a
mate.”
“Shut up, Crow,” Dak said, this time his growl so animalistic Jim reared back a bit.
Crow sighed, his pitying look aimed at Dak. “Oh, come on, Dakotah. This is ridiculous. You’ve made it clear you don’t want him. It’s selfish of you to not let someone else have him.”
Jim put up his hands to silence the men, his tone almost shrill. “Wait. What?”
Crow leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his warm—and a bit sad—gaze on Jim. “Not all lycans are the same. There are the alphas through omegas, hierarchies within the packs, and to some extent their personalities. But above them—or beyond them, if you will—are the oldest of our kind. The progenitors. The kingmakers, so to speak. Those who make alphas. And only alphas.”
Jim’s head was spinning. “You mean, like, origin of the species kind of thing?”
“Yes, you could say that.” Crow seemed satisfied with Jim’s interpretation, and his eyes heated up, emanating desire. “Now, progenitors are rare. Long ago they divided into specific areas to prevent battles and strife. There are less than half a dozen in the United States alone.”
Jim was shocked to hear that. “Just how old are these progenitors?”
Crow smiled ruefully. “Older than recorded human history.”
“Holy shit!” Jim exclaimed, and then clapped a hand over his mouth.
Crow chuckled. “You said it. Apart from creating only alphas with their so-called love bites, the progenitors are special because they don’t have just one mate. They can have many.”
Confused, Jim shook his head. “You mean like a harem or something?”
Crow nodded. “Polygamy, yes. This situation makes it possible for a progenitor to sire a large number of offspring. It also makes it possible that the mate does not have to be turned into one of us. If they so choose, they can live out their mortal lives, and then die, as regular humans.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Now here’s the tricky part.” Crow glanced at the other men, who said nothing, waiting for him to finish what he had started. “These progenitor mates are not like the mates of alphas or any of the others who can only have one mate. But because there are more available mates for progenitors, their mates are like… hmm, what would be a good word? Ah, yes. They’re like master keys. One key opens many doors. Or in this case, one mate for any and all progenitors.” Jim swallowed hard, feeling an anxiety building unlike ever before. “If one progenitor refuses to take this person as mate, any other progenitor can claim them. Of course, this is all voluntary so….”
Jim couldn’t hear anything else Crow said. His heart thundered in his chest so hard he was deafened by it. All these loose and separate threads had formed a tapestry, and finally Jim was able to see the big picture.
He looked at Dak, who was still staring at the floor. “You’re a progenitor. And I’m your mate. A master key.” Then he added in a choked voice, “And you don’t want me.”
Dak said nothing. His silence confirmed it. Never had Jim felt so lonely and discarded.
“Dakotah and I are both progenitors. Dakotah has lived in solitude, like a monk, for centuries,” Crow said quietly, as if not wishing to intrude, but still offering an explanation. “He no longer seeks mates, one or several. I, however, would love to have you as my mate, Jim.”
Rejection tasted bitter indeed. Jim’s mouth was dry, and he found it hard to breathe. As tempting as Crow’s offer was, Jim couldn’t even contemplate it now. All he saw was Dak’s hunched form, like a statue, facing away from him, shucking Jim away as though he were nothing.
Maybe he wasn’t. Apparently there were plenty more mates to choose from. A whole reserve of them, in fact. Dak could have his harem, with or without Jim.
And without did seem the most likely choice.
“I see.” He wondered if he sounded as alien as he felt, hollowed out somehow. He’d learned as much as he’d ever wanted about werewolves, but this mating business was too confusing. Not once had he seriously considered the possibility that he could be a mate for an Unveiled one. Now that he knew he actually was….
All of a sudden, Dak jumped up and headed for the door with the purposeful stride of a man who wanted to leave.
“Where are you going?” Crow asked, annoyed for some reason.
“I’m going home,” Dak said as he crossed the threshold. “You’ve got things in hand here.”
Then, like in an old-fashioned animation, Dak was gone. Jim almost imagined a cloud of dust where he had stood before running away with his lycan speed. But all that mattered was that the man was long gone.
“That stubborn old mule,” Crow muttered under his breath.
“I thought you preferred having him out of the picture,” Jim said tiredly, feeling numb physically and emotionally.
Crow wasn’t fazed by the accusation as his grin never wavered. “Nope. Being what I am, I like a challenge. The competition between progenitors was violent in the past, but no longer. We’re friends and colleagues these days. Since the Veil lifted, old animosities have been buried out of necessity, new alliances forged, peace made. Dak and I….” He shrugged. “Eternity’s too long a time to hold grudges.”
Jim stared at him with no small amount of disbelief. “If there are so many potential mates for you alpha makers, why do you want
me
? Don’t you have a mate right now?”
Crow chuckled softly. “Actually, I have two. One immortal of my own kin and one human who declined the bite.”
Bursting into helpless hysterical laughter, Jim was able to say, “And you want one more in your social gathering? Oh, sorry, I meant seraglio.”
Still smiling, Crow nodded. “I have always preferred more than one partner. Doesn’t mean I don’t love them all. The ones I have now, those I have yet to have, and those I have already lost. I believe in balance in all things, including relationships. One person may not be able to give me everything I want, and I realize I may not be enough for someone else. My immortal partner has another lover beside me.”
“Kind of like swingers, huh?” Jim didn’t want to sound judgmental but he knew in his heart he didn’t want open relationships like that. Perhaps it was silly, idealistic, and rosily romantic, but he wished to be the one and only for a man, the way that man would be for him.
Shrugging mildly, Crow said, “I suppose you can look at it like that, sure.” Jim was beginning to see that not much rattled the basic optimism of this beautiful man. “But that’s not what you want, is it, Jim?”
Lowering his gaze to the glass coffee table, he shook his head, feeling deflated. “No, it’s not. I don’t want that.”
“I understand. Believe me I do.” Crow’s sympathetic tone made Jim feel a bit better. “You should know, however, that while I do not wish to use my powers to ensnare a new mate, there are other progenitors out there who won’t be so guileless.”
Jim started. “Say what?”
Crow let out a sigh. “Progenitors’ mates lie dormant, so to speak, until they meet their first progenitor. That’s when they become like a beacon in the night. We all see you now. I’m here. Others will come to pursue you—until you are claimed.”
Getting hit over the head by a brick would have wigged Jim out less than what he was hearing. He knew he was over the hill in many ways, gay ways especially. He was pushing fifty, and he had not expected to attract any gorgeous alpha types anymore. Now, it seemed, a whole pack of them was going to be pursuing him. To make him theirs.
And all he could think of was Dak.
But that reminded him…. “Dak asked me something back at the cabin, and I couldn’t lie to him.”
Crow and Daniel glanced at each other knowingly. “All progenitors have powers, Jim. Dak can spot lies, among other things, as a shaman of his tribe way back when.”
“What can you do?”
“Sorry. Privileged information. I can only disclose that to my mate.”
Jim snorted. “Really?”
Crow chuckled. “Close enough.” Then he grew serious. “Dak is the one calling to your heart, isn’t he?”
Jim looked away, blushing in embarrassment. “What does it matter? He’s made his lack of interest pretty fucking clear.” His head was throbbing with a headache now, probably stress, and he rubbed his temples, tendrils of pain subsiding briefly. “Has he lived up there, all by his lonesome, for long?”
“Ages. Long before the Veil lifted.” Daniel didn’t sound happy about it. “Bad for the pack and our lineage.”
Jim raised his gaze at that, eyes wide. “He’s
your
creator.”
Daniel smiled wistfully. “Yes, he is my sire.”
Crow nudged Daniel with his elbow. “Bet you’re glad it isn’t me, eh, King?”
Growling, Daniel retorted, “Go huff and puff somewhere else, Crow.”
Crow just laughed at that, as though no amount of snarkiness could hurt his feelings. Jim upgraded his image of the man and realized Dak had been right. Jim could do a lot worse than have this man as his mate. “Does that make you the little piggy that couldn’t?”
“Wrong fairy tale.” But Daniel smirked too, and the tension evaporated.
Jim cut in. “Ahem. Just out of curiosity. Do I
have
to pick one of the progenitors?”
“One of them will manage to wow you enough, I’d imagine,” Crow said nonchalantly. “We can be pretty persuasive. And not all of my kin have more than one mate. A few have none.”
“Like Dak.” Jim felt as morose as he undoubtedly sounded. “Has he had mates?” He couldn’t deny the burst of jealousy at the thought of others, even though he rationally understood that in millennia there were bound to be one or two at least.
Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but Crow waved him silent. “Listen, Jim. Why don’t you ask him yourself? If he’s the one you want, then take him. Hunt him down and make him your prey.”
Jim frowned. “It’s that simple, is it?”
Crow laughed loudly, holding his gut. “Oh, Jim. Why do you think he’s running from you so fast? C’mon. This mating business is a two-way street. You desire him. He desires you. He may wish to deny it, but he can’t help but feel it. The bond between mates, even with progenitors, is powerful. Use it.”
Jim actually had to stop and think about that. There had been moments when he’d felt as if Dak had been attracted to him. But his curt demeanor had shoved those instincts aside. Maybe he could still—
No. Jim didn’t even know Dak. All he knew about the man was that he was an ancient werewolf who lived in the mountains in a cabin, alone by choice, seeking solitude on purpose. For Jim to invade that privacy, he’d better be sure he wanted Dak for good.
And since he didn’t know Dak, how could he say he wanted him as his mate?
Jim couldn’t be sure he didn’t want Dak just because the idea of dodging a whole host of more powerful wolves hell-bent on claiming him scared him shitless. Jim had no idea what to expect from these immortal beasts who had witnessed the rise and fall of human civilizations too many times to count. Apart from Crow, who seemed like an okay guy, these progenitors were a complete unknown to Jim.
What if I had met Crow before Dak? Would I want him as much as Dak?
Why doesn’t Dak want me?
The only way Jim was going to get an answer to the question that plagued him the most was to confront Dak, despite the man’s reluctance. Jim swore he wouldn’t try to seduce Dak because that opened a whole new can of worms he wasn’t ready to tackle.
“I have to talk to him.” His voice quivered, though he had tried to sound determined.
“Want some company up the mountainside?” Crow asked companionably.
Jim offered him a smile, more in earnest than the ones before. “Thanks, but no. I have to do this by myself.” He got up to leave right away in case he lost his nerve.
“Good luck,” both Crow and Daniel chimed from the couch.
Jim had a feeling he was going to need all the luck in the world.
J
IM
FULLY
expected Dak to know he was here, on his marked territory, well before he stopped the borrowed truck and started uphill on foot toward the cabin. His mind was stuffed too tight with all manner of questions for his body to even notice the climb or the exertion.
When he reached the cabin, Jim made sure Dak knew with certainty he was here. “Dak, I’m back. Yeah, I said there wouldn’t be a third time, but I have questions.” He used his normal speaking voice, suspecting that Dak was hiding behind the bushes nearby, like before, the gigantic wolf of his earlier visits. “Like why am I feeling so good? Two nights at your cabin and all my injuries seem to heal. Miracle of miracles. Do I have you to thank for that?”
The noon sun was high, blazing down upon Jim’s exposed neck. The air was dry and warm. Woodsy odors surrounded him, and he had never felt so in touch with the nature around him, not in all his travels.
Then a rustling of dry leaves and pine needles sounded at Jim’s back. As he knew the man wouldn’t be far, Jim wasn’t startled, but he never did like someone standing right behind him.
“I mixed my blood with the hot drink I gave you. Both times. That healed you. Any other questions?” As usual, Dak was cool, more polite than hostile, but hardly welcoming.