Everything That You Are Page 2
“We need to go back. Now.”
Nick paused in confusion. “Did you leave something there?”
A desperate burst of laughter escaped Michael’s lips. “You could say that. My pride. My sanity, and something a hell of a lot more important.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Just trust me. I need to get back to that club.” He locked gazes with Nick, imploring with his eyes.
Another half an hour later, Nick pulled into the same parking lot and Michael was out of the car before it stopped rolling. He could still detect the scent of his mate but it was overpowered by that of another shifter. Not giving up hope, he tracked, sniffed and asked about any trace of the dancer, but after an hour, he’d found nothing.
Cold dread invaded his body and clung to his heart with a vice-like grip. He didn’t believe in once-in-a-lifetime chances, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d blown his.
Once again at his house, he managed to give Nick an absent thanks and weak smile. “Guess I’ll have to find it another time.” There was no way he could divulge his shame to his friend. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
He didn’t wait for a reply before climbing out of the car and slamming the door closed. He felt his face flame a little when he noticed that Nick refused to drive off until he saw him inside his house. He must look more shaken than he thought. He walked through the dark interior of his house, not bothering to turn the lights on, having no need of them thanks to his wolf’s eyesight, and went straight to the kitchen to pour a full glass of bourbon.
Walking back out to his living room, he turned his body slowly in a full circle, taking in the comfort and majesty of his elaborate yet modest home. He tried to pretend that the dancer he had met earlier tonight piqued his interest only because he had seemed so effeminate. And it was the truth—his features had been so delicate that if it weren’t for his flat chest and the bulge in his shorts, he could easily have been mistaken for a female. But the sick, gut-wrenching loss that permeated from within called his bluff.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would find him and to hell with the consequences.
* * * *
Kaden collapsed to his knees on the gravel of the parking lot and watched the car as it made its way down the street and took the only person he’d ever been attracted to away from him. The momentary glimpse of him in the club had mesmerised Kaden and he had soaked up every detail of those striking features before being rudely yanked out of the back door.
The man had shoulder-length hair so black that it had shone under the flashing lights in the club, and his body was massive yet trim. It was his glowing, hazel eyes, however, that had held Kaden captive.
The john hadn’t taken it well when Kaden had given him back his money for the blow-job he’d agreed to give, but he didn’t take the hard shove and cruel words he’d received personally. He just couldn’t get the image of the stranger out of his mind. He’d wanted desperately to run back into the club and find out if the huge arms on that man would hold him as tightly as he imagined, but didn’t want to risk being approached by another john.
Up close, the man had seemed so handsome and smelt so good that he’d been robbed of words. For that one brief moment in time, his hopes had soared…then been slaughtered in the next. The pain of the man’s rejection had been confusing at first, a shock to his system, and the longer he knelt there, the more intense the feelings of hurt and abandonment became.
He didn’t understand the cacophony of agonising emotions filling him and they soon became more than he could bear. He doubled over as his chest constricted in racking, sharp pains that quickly spread throughout his body, threatening to consume him if he didn’t retain his grip on reality.
A low-pitched, keening wail pierced his ears, drilling into his skull until there was nothing but that horrid sound reverberating throughout his head. After a while, his throat became so sore that he had to force it closed, only then realising that the wailing had been coming from him.
Despair filled every cavity of his being until he was nothing but an empty shell, and still he couldn’t understand the feelings coursing through him. A gentle caress on his right shoulder had him lurching sideways in his effort to get away from whoever had discovered him in his moment of weakness.
“It’s okay, boy. I won’t hurt you,” a voice said. It was deep and commanding, and Kaden felt drawn to raise his eyes to look upon the intruder. This man could easily be the same height and build of the man who had just deserted him. His frame was large and imposing, but the streetlamp behind him backlit his features, making his face hard to discern.
Kaden still felt empty, battered, and knew there was no way he could bring himself to perform tonight, despite the fact that he needed the money. He didn’t want to return home and risk his mom and sister seeing him like this, but there was nowhere else to go.
He slowly got to his hands and knees, feeling as if he had aged forty years, and said, “Sorry man, I’m done in the club for the night. Find another entertainer.” His voice caught on that last word as he remembered the look of fear on the face of the man he had risked his last vestiges of pride for. Hopelessness threatened to take what will he had left to him as he got to his feet and headed blindly for the street.
A hard hand clamped onto his shoulder and span him around. Before he could even react, another hand gripped his throat in a hold so tight he saw black spots dancing before his eyes in seconds. A torrent of sickening emotions lit his body on fire until he thought he would pass out. Hate and lust and greed pounded into his mind mercilessly, with such force that this new pain superceded his own.
His scream was cut off before it could even reach his lips.
“Unlike you, I don’t take rejection so well,” the stranger said. Kaden tried to struggle but the man pulled him against his hard body and released his shoulder to lock his arm around Kaden’s torso and arms in a vice so strong it was all he could do to keep air in his lungs.
He was half-carried to the far right corner of the parking lot, into a narrow opening between two buildings, then slammed face-forward into a wall.
By this time, he was so desperate for air that when the man loosened his grip on his neck, he could do nothing but gulp down great breaths. He could feel the much larger body pressed against his entire length, the stranger’s cock jutting into his backside almost like a promise, or threat. Hot, alcohol-laced breath fanned across his cheek from behind as he heard the man say, “What clan are you from?”
Oh shit! How could I not have noticed?
He’d known the man he had approached earlier was a wolf—had been taught to recognise their scent by his father so many years ago—but he had been too wrapped up in his misery to take note of this one. Kaden would have laughed at his stupidity had he not just been spurned by the only man whose attraction actually meant a damn to him, though he had not the slightest clue why.
He had to get the man’s flesh off his own. There was no way he could battle the other’s raging emotions and physical strength at the same time. Although he had to admit he wasn’t even close to his match in sheer brawn.
“I have no clan…” He felt himself yanked back, only to be slammed again into the brick wall in front of him. Pain blossomed in his head and chest and his cry was choked off. Real terror began to flood his body on top of the disgusting feelings of the other man, and his thoughts scattered into fragments.
“Coven, then? I can smell the mage in you. The truth, boy, or I will cut your tongue out,” the man sneered. Kaden tried to concentrate on his words, but fear had already replaced coherent thought.
“P—please. I don’t know.” He swallowed as a hand once again clamped down fiercely around his throat, and tried desperately to think of something the man wanted to hear. “No coven. No clan. I have n—nothing…” Suddenly, he was whirled around and felt the iron grip of the stranger disappear.
Kaden somehow managed to lock his knees to keep himself from falling, but inst
ead of looking around to find an escape route like he knew he should be doing, he glanced up at the stranger and found himself frozen in stark terror.
The man was rubbing his cock through his pants and sliding his gaze lewdly over Kaden’s body. The look in his eyes when they finally caught and held Kaden’s kept him immobile. They were crazed and feral, but it was the intelligence behind them that shone through the most.
That was never a good combination.
“Pretty,” the stranger said as one corner of his mouth lifted up into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, I think I’ll take you home.” Just as Kaden found the courage to run, he felt an iron fist strike the side of his head and heard the sharp crack of his skull hitting the wall behind him before the world fell away.
Chapter One
Four years later…
Michael stared blankly at the computer screen before him. It contained the same emailed response he’d received from countless other Alphas spanning a nearly thousand-mile radius from his hometown of West Plains, Missouri. The words were different but the message was always the same.
Alpha Michael Rockheim,
I am sorry to inform you that I have no young man fitting the description you gave living amongst my clan. My Betas have searched the surrounding area to no avail. I have alerted my community to report any possible sightings immediately and will let you know if any useful information turns up.
Good luck to you.
Sincerely,
Alpha James Sternberg
The words were beginning to blur together as he read it for the fifth time, his heart refusing to accept that his mind was veering towards defeat. He thought back to that excruciating time that had followed his chance encounter with his mate and once again cursed himself for being such a fool.
The pain of his mistake had cut so deeply at first that he couldn’t bring himself to confide in anyone for six months. In the end, however, it had been the bond of love his parents shared that had broken him.
He recalled that evening spent over dinner at their house with perfect clarity. He’d always known that his parents’ love for each other was matched only by their love for him. That night, watching them perform all of their familiar rituals such as a caress at the table, a kiss stolen when they thought he wasn’t looking, only succeeded in driving home the pain of knowing that he might never have that kind of connection to another, thanks to his rash behaviour and fear of the unknown.
It was while his mother was cutting slices of peach pie for dessert, leaning into the kiss his father placed on her temple, that she had turned to notice the silent tears streaming down his cheeks.
She had dropped the knife and let it clatter to the floor in her rush to pull him into a hug and ask what was wrong. He’d looked at her in confusion until she wiped away a tear from his cheek that he hadn’t even realised was there.
A flush that he was sure covered his entire body had rushed through him at the thought of being caught crying by his mom. He was more scared at that point than he had ever been in his life, because he knew he couldn’t lie to his parents, which meant that he would have to come clean. Both about his mate and his shame at rejecting him.
Michael had cleared his throat and spoken in a low voice. “Mom.” Then turning to his father, “Dad, I think I’m gay.” He’d held his breath, waiting for the denials and accusations that were sure to come, and they did, but not in the form he had expected. His dad’s face had remained stoical as the older man’s eyes searched his, but it was his mom that had spoken up first, or rather shouted.
“That’s what this is about? You’ve been moping around for the past six months, then come here and get so upset that you’re crying because you think we’ll…what?…hate you for being gay? Michael Nathaniel Rockheim, I ought to bend you over my knee right now. How could you possibly think that your father and I would be so callous as to turn you away simply because of your sexual preferences? Boy, I should just take you outside and whip your hide till…”
His mom had continued to berate and threaten him thoroughly as she retrieved the fallen knife, washed it, and continued to cut slices of pie for everyone. Michael had been so dumbfounded that he had started to laugh. That is, until he had seen the look of hurt in his father’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he’d said, cutting into his mom’s angry tirade. “I really didn’t mean to offend you. I just know how much you wanted grandchildren and…”
“Baby,” his mom had pleaded in a tortured voice, “how could you possibly think that I would trade your happiness for mine? Especially when there are more ways than one to have children.”
Shame had flooded him anew at his wrongful assumptions.
“So…you’re not upset that I might be gay?” His mother had raised the knife still in her hand, pointing it at him with a glare in her eyes that bespoke pain, lots of pain, if he didn’t stop with the apparent insults.
He had quickly held up his hands in surrender and this time couldn’t keep the laugh of relief from bubbling up from his chest. “Okay, okay. Truly sorry here,” he said with a chuckle. The honesty and love his parents were showing him, despite the fact that he knew they’d both been looking forward to having grandchildren, humbled him in a way that nothing else had.
“Son, of course we have no problem with you being gay, but what exactly did you mean when you said you think you might be gay? Something tells me this is a lot more serious than a simple experiment.”
He had known his father would have picked up on that little detail—it was the mark of a true Alpha, one which he himself had used to his own benefit for many years. Still, he had cringed at the thought of having to admit to his parents the extent of the disastrous choice of rejecting his mate.
Hesitantly, he’d said, “I’d never been attracted to a man until I met him. My mate. It was about six months ago, but he was barely a pup at the time. Maybe eighteen. I got so scared that I left him. He was…he…shit, he was working in a club, Dad, as a dancer, and I think doing something on the side for extra money.”
His father’s face was once again stoical, while his mother had wiped briskly at her eyes as if to hide tears.
“Honey, if that young man was working underage in a club, then he was probably doing the only thing he knew how to survive. Oh Michael, you’ve got to find him. He’s obviously without a clan. That poor thing could be taken advantage of without any kind of protection. Oh sweetheart…he must be so lost.” Right then, seeing the tears of sympathy in his mom’s eyes for a man she didn’t even know except for the fact that he was her son’s mate, he’d felt like the biggest ass on the planet.
A sharp knock at the door brought him out of his reverie and he glanced at the wall clock next to his desk. Quarter to one. It would be his dad bringing over the CD of spreadsheets for Mrs O’Neily’s lands. She was looking to extend her acres to include a part of the Buckland’s orchards, which they had agreed to exchange with her for rights to several of her well-springs so that they could feed their crops with less expense.
“Come in,” he yelled, still unable to take his eyes off the latest email attesting to his failed attempts to find his mate. Though his office was located beyond his living room and down a long hallway, he was still able to pick up his father’s distinct scent and hear the soft click of the latch as he entered his home and closed the door behind him. Michael rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“No luck yet?” his father asked as he eased himself down into a leather recliner positioned to the side of the desk. Michael glanced at the man who could have been his twin but for a sprinkling of grey hair and a few additional laughter lines around the edges of his eyes.
He didn’t have to ask to know what he was talking about. The evidence of his failed search was staring him in the face. He knew he should get back to work, but the hopelessness of the situation was wearing on him. It had been four years since he’d started his search for his mate, using several channels to get hold of ev
ery clan he could reach, and even some he hadn’t known about, thanks to his father. But it had all been in vain.
Michael sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands, his elbows resting on the desktop. “Dad, I left him out there. Alone. I was afraid just because he had a penis between his legs.”
He was vaguely embarrassed to be so vulgar in front of his father, but the older man was the only one he could talk to about this. He hadn’t mentioned the discovery of his mate to anyone else in his clan, and discussing sex with his mother was not an option.
Sam reached over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder in support. “Son, we’ll find him. Don’t give up.”
Michael laughed bitterly at that and shook off his father’s hand as he stood up and began pacing the room. “You don’t know that. A mate is the most precious gift one can receive from Mother Earth, and I spurned him. I took her gift and threw it away like so much trash.”
That familiar ache that he had come to live with every minute of every day began to gnaw at his insides, threatening to take over his self-control. He stopped his pacing beside the window behind the loveseat in his office, staring at the beautiful landscape spreading out before him in ravines and rolling hills filled with trees bursting with life. It was hard to look upon such peaceful surroundings when his entire being was filled with turmoil and regret.
He didn’t even notice that his father had stood up until he felt a sharp tug on the ponytail at the back of his neck. “Stop what you’re thinking right now. He isn’t dead and you will find him. Damn, you’re just like you were at the age of ten. Too damned impatient for your own good and wanting Mother Earth to serve you everything on a silver platter. You made a mistake, son, and you’re working to rectify it. You will find him.”