He wrapped the book up in the most innocuous paper he could find—unfortunate, but necessary for his plan. Once done, he focused on making arrangements for when he and Will would run away together.

  He'd already decided on the optimum occasion. The last day of the Gathering, when all the werewolves would be distracted and Dean would be able to slip away. He set aside food and money they could take along and mapped a tentative route in his head. Canada, probably. No one would find them there, and they could be free and love just like they wanted to.

  As night fell, Dean sneaked out of the bed and breakfast where he was staying, paying close attention so that Elder Terrence and his father wouldn't notice. He watched the main road, scanning the distance for the truck of the Mulligan brothers.

  They'd have to pass through Willow Cove to go to the carnival, and Dean hoped he could hitch a ride with his own mate.

  It might have seemed risky, but it was a calculated risk at best. They didn't have much time left, and Dean needed to explain his plan to his mate. Besides, if he managed to get the Mulligan siblings to give him a lift, he could pretend to befriend them, which would make it much easier for him and Will to escape when the time came. And okay, maybe he wasn't being entirely subjective—but Dean couldn't fathom letting his mate spend his birthday without him.

  The plan went smoother than he himself could have expected. The truck he recognized from the night of the dance appeared in the distance. Once Dean considered it close enough, he stepped within view and waved. Thankfully, the truck slowed down and stopped, which already canceled the main problem of Dean's idea.

  "Hey there, gentlemen," he called out. "By any chance do you have room for one more? I heard there's a carnival going on, but I'm temporarily stranded."

  He smiled slightly, and the human girl in the seat next to the driver made an understanding 'aw' sound. "Of course we can help. Right, Karl?"

  The driver—presumably Karl—didn't seem so enthusiastic, but he obviously didn't want to cross his girl. "Sure. Hop in."

  "Thanks a million," Dean replied.

  He climbed into the truck bed, only to come face to face with none other than his mate. For a brief moment, he thought Will might give them both away, but no such thing happened. The slight panic in Will's eyes melted into an awkward smile, the exact type one would give to a stranger. "Uh... Hello there. I'm Will."

  "Dean. Thanks for helping me out."

  The other occupants of the truck introduced themselves as Will's siblings, Louis and George, and turned out to be the men who'd tracked Will down the night of the dance. They also had dates with them, a freckled redhead named Victoria and a pretty blonde named Georgia. The similarity in the names of George and his date seemed to amuse the human brothers quite a lot. Louis and George kept a steady stream of conversation, sometimes asking Dean questions. Dean responded to all of them with a bright smile, never faltering, studiously not staring at his mate even if his entire being screamed to reach out and touch. Instead, he focused mostly on flattering the girls, very careful to be courteous without taking things too far.

  Finally, the truck stopped in front of the carnival. Dean jumped out first and made a show of looking around. "What is it?" Georgia asked, as if on cue.

  "I'm supposed to meet my date here, but I can't see her."

  Dean scowled and tried to look disappointed. Thankfully, his plan of making himself liked by the girls had worked because they all seemed quite put out by his predicament. "Do you want us to help search?" Victoria asked, completely oblivious to the way Louis was glaring at Dean.

  "That's all right," Dean answered. "I'm new here, but I should be able to find my way."

  "Nonsense," Peggy, Karl's fiancée, said. "Of course we'll help. It's only decent. Right, Karl?"

  The pained look on the man's face told Dean Karl had very different plans for this evening. Finally, Will took a step forward and sighed heavily. "Tell you what, I'll stick with Dean and help him search for his date. You guys go on ahead."

  "Are you sure?" Karl asked. "It's your birthday..."

  "I'm sure." Will rolled his eyes. "Go on. Enjoy yourselves."

  "Thanks, Will," George said, already guiding his date away. "You're a peach."

  Dean watched in amusement as Will's three brothers disappeared into the crowd. Once they were gone, Will pulled Dean aside, glaring. "Oh my God... How could you do this?"

  Dean grinned, feeling wild with the taste of victory. "It worked, didn't it?"

  "Yes, but it could have failed abysmally. I could have given us away."

  Dean smiled at his mate. "I trusted you, and I was right." He stole a look around and when he was sure no one could spot them, pressed a brief kiss to Will's lips. "I missed you."

  "Did you?" Will pouted. "It really didn't seem that way when we were in the truck."

  Dean almost couldn't believe his ears. "Don't tell me you're jealous. Oh, baby, there's nothing to be jealous of. It's you I love."

  The words came out naturally, without him even thinking about them. He only realized what he'd said when his mate's eyes widened. "O-Oh. I... Uh..."

  "Sorry," Dean quickly piped up. "I'm rushing you again. You don't have to say anything. Just keep it in mind. And now... Do you want to go to the carnival?"

  Will scanned his face with those beautiful eyes that saw past every single barrier Dean tried to erect. The green orbs glowed with emotion as he softly answered, "Yes. Let's go."

  Dean suddenly had the urge to just drag his mate off someplace private where he could ravage him, but he held back. Today was special, and he wanted to share this with Will. They were more than the hidden moments they spent at the cabin. Dean wanted this carnival to be the beginning of the rest of their lives, a life of joy, where they could be together without fear of reprisal.

  For the moment, they couldn't linger or touch too much while in public, but just having Will close was a gift. As they entered the carnival and walked around the numerous tents, Dean was mesmerized by the sound of Will's laughter, by his wide smile and the way his green eyes glinted like gems. It took everything in his power to focus on anything else save Will's pure beauty, but he did, keeping a close eye on the crowd and changing direction whenever he caught sight of Will's brothers.

  It should have been tense, but it really wasn't. There were too many people for anyone to pay attention to them, and Will's brothers seemed too focused on their dates to worry about their sibling. Really, he'd have been pissed on Will's behalf, since this entire thing was supposed to be for Will's birthday, but their dismissive attitude helped him. Dean wished he could have taken his mate's arm like they did with the girls, but it wasn't possible, so this would have to do.

  They got on rides, ate cotton candy and entered some of the competitions. Dean managed to win a large plush wolf for his mate, and he felt stupidly proud of it even if he couldn't present it to Will in public. They entered the poor excuse for a haunted house, laughed themselves breathless at the unrealistic werewolves inside, and probably scared some of the staff off with their chuckles. When they could walk without succumbing to giggles once more, they continued to explore the carnival—until they ran into a photographer.

  They looked at one another at the same time. It would probably be a little strange if they asked the man to take their photo, but they could come up with an excuse and pretend they were related. Will nodded at him, obviously thinking the same thing, and Dean approached the man. "Excuse me," he said. "Could you take a photo of me and my cousin?"

  "Of course," the photographer replied jovially. He didn't seem to find Dean's request odd, and instead just gestured for them to get into position. "Smile!"

  They leaned against each other just slightly as they posed, careful not to seem too intimate. It was enough, for now—for this moment full of hope and promise. Even so, when Dean paid and retrieved the photo, he knew he had to get his mate to himself, just for a little while.

  "Come on," he whispered. "Follow me."

  Will gave him a curious look, but didn't protest. Carrying the plush wolf which Dean had managed to pass to him during their stint in the haunted house, he wordlessly complied. Dean made his way through the crowd, wishing he could take Will's hand, and hoping he could fix that unbearable transgression soon.

  He found what he was looking for a few minutes later. An empty tent sat further away from the main carnival stalls. It seemed to have been meant for holding supplies, but had been left unguarded, perhaps because most of the things inside had already been put into use.

  Either way, it was the perfect refuge away from all the people—or at least, as perfect as they could find in the middle of a fair. "I don't think I truly wished you happy birthday," Dean said as soon as they were in private.

  He pulled the package with the book from his coat and offered it to his mate. Will blinked in surprise. He set the plush toy on a nearby table and took the gift with almost reverent hands. "You got me a gift."

  "I said I would, didn't I?" Now that he'd actually given the book to Will, he was nervous and not quite so sure Will would like it. "Well. Open it."

  Will quickly undid the packaging and Dean held his breath as his mate finally got a look at the cover—only to burst into laughter mere seconds later.

  It was a laughter full of joy, genuine and happy, and Dean relaxed, his wolf instinctively perking up at the realization that he'd pleased his mate. Grinning, Will caressed the cover of the book. "This is perfect, Dean. A clever book, and a reminder of you. Thank you."

  Dean swallowed around the sudden knot in his throat. He couldn't help but stare at Will's slender fingers, at the way they stroked the book. Was it possible to be jealous of an inanimate object? Apparently. "I'm glad you like it," he managed to croak out.

  Will clutched the tome to his chest and looked up at Dean. "I'll treasure it always," he whispered. Despite the soft tone, the words echoed loudly in the tent, a promise that made the wolf inside Dean growl in satisfaction. Always. That sounded perfect to Dean.

  Suddenly, he couldn't keep himself from touching Will any longer. He'd held back during their walk through the carnival, and while it had been worth it at the time, he needed more.

  With a wicked grin, Dean stole the book from Will and placed it on a nearby table. Will made a sound of surprise, perhaps not realizing what Dean had in mind, but that noise melted into a moan of pleasure—one muffled by Dean's lips as they kissed.

  And moon be blessed, Dean could never get tired of his mate's taste, so sweet, so sensual, so intense. After that first moment of surprise, Will eagerly granted Dean entrance. His tongue tangled with Dean's, and he melted against Dean's chest even as he did some exploring of his own. Being a born Alpha, Dean naturally craved Will's submission, but Will somehow managed to give him that while clinging to his own stubbornness. He was as demanding as Dean's wolf, and Dean loved it.

  His original intention had been to take his time, to make love to Will's mouth, but it didn't work out that way. As Will's hands started to roam over Dean's body, something inside Dean snapped. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think because of all the need pulsing through him, buzzing through every cell in his body. He tore his mouth away from Will's, hoping to tell his mate what he wanted. He didn't have to, because Will nodded frantically, fingers already working at the buttons of Dean's shirt. And it was crazy, completely and ridiculously reckless. Dean could still hear the distant hum of human voices coming from the carnival. Anyone could walk past and maybe catch them. Nonetheless, Dean wanted this, as a wolf and as a man, with his instincts and his heart. He might have managed to muster enough control to stop had Will asked him to, but his mate wanted this as much as Dean did.

  Still, the part of Dean that remained rational pointed out they couldn't exactly tear their clothes off, since they would obviously need the damn things later. He caught Will's wrists before he could rip anything, drawing a disgruntled groan from his mate. "Let me," he told Will. "Let me take care of everything."

  Will opened his mouth to protest, but Dean stole the words from his lips with a kiss. Will seemed to forget about what he'd intended, which worked just fine for Dean's intentions. He released his mate's wrists and focused on undoing the buttons of Will's shirt.

  It was easier said than done. He did his best to keep a tight rein on his control, but his wolf snarled inside him, telling him to get on with it, finding the barrier between them unacceptable. With every inch of silken skin he exposed, Dean was getting more and more lightheaded. By some miracle, he managed to take off Will's shirt without tearing anything, but then Will's patience died. His clever fingers zeroed in on Dean's crotch, and Dean's vision went unfocused at the touch.

  Just like that, the wolf inside him snapped free. With a snarl, he pinned his mate against the pole that acted as the lone support of their shelter. The tent shook as Dean pressed his body against Will's and delved in to claim another kiss from Will's beautiful mouth. This time, though, the kiss was not enough. His instincts guided him to undo Will's jeans, jerking them down with far more violence than he'd have liked. Will helped, and soon, Dean had his mate naked in the tent—or as naked as he could be. They hadn't had the foresight to remove Will's shoes first, so his jeans were stuck against his ankles, keeping Dean from spreading Will's legs and gaining access to Will's tempting ass.

  Well, that was a problem he had every intention of solving. He rolled his mate away from the pole and positioned him face down on the nearby table. Will moaned and pushed his ass out, even if he was obviously having some trouble moving around because of his little issue with the jeans. Dean dropped to his knees behind Will, but was distracted from his task by the sight of Will's naked ass, just within his view.

  He couldn't help himself. It was a compulsion that seemed as natural and inexorable as breathing, as shifting. Dean leaned over and bit down lightly on one of the pale cheeks. Will gasped, and the scent of his arousal grew so potent it was dizzying.

  It occurred to Dean that this would have been easier if he had just stepped back and given Will some space to toe off his shoes, but that idea involved him... well, stepping back, and that was simply unacceptable. Besides, judging by the way Will was clinging to the table for all he was worth, Dean didn't think his mate would even be capable of coherent action right now.

  In the end, Dean flipped Will on the table, leaving the beautiful human seated there as Dean took care of the pesky remains of his mate's outfit. It was almost ridiculous that he had to go through all this fancy maneuvering for something so simple, but he had real trouble remembering why he wasn't simply tearing the damn things off. In fact, once Dean was successful in his task and got Will naked, he found he didn't have the same patience for his own clothing. He tore his shirt open—simply because his mate wanted him to—and snapped the buttons of his jeans, groaning when the action made his hard as nails dicks spring out. Will made a noise that was half-whimper, half-curse. "Come on, Dean," he whispered, his voice wrecked and husky. "Fuck me."

  Now that he could, Will spread his legs wide, and Dean was seconds away from pouncing. In fact, he probably would have pounced had he not noticed the slight tremor of Will's hands, the way his heart was racing—and not just because of arousal.

  Will was nervous. How could Dean have forgotten? His mate had never done this before. To be fair, Dean had never had sex with a man either, but in his long years, he'd encountered some more adventurous women who'd been brave enough to take his cock up their asses. As such, Dean knew he needed some sort of lubricant to smooth his way inside. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his mate.

  As it turned out, he was in luck. He caught sight of a jar of Vaseline sitting innocuously on a nearby shelf. It was pretty much the best thing he could get under these circumstances, and even if it would make cleaning a bit of a chore, it would have to do.

  Dean reached for the jar and uncapped it. His instincts guided him to move as quickly as he could, to spread Will's legs and prepare his mate for intercourse. He didn't, though, not just yet. Instead, he met his mate's gaze steadily, struggling to control his own breath and racing heart. "Are you really sure about this, baby? Tell me now. I don't know if I'll be able to stop later."

  "Yes, Dean. I... I told you... I don't want you to stop," Will murmured. "I want you to fuck me. Please, Dean.... Now."

  How could Dean resist? After all, he was only a man—and a wolf—and he had his mate in front of him, asking for his touch. It was too much to withstand, and Dean's resolve broke like it had never been.

  Fortunately, Will didn't need, or want his composure. It seemed that his own words had made him reach a decision. He stopped trembling and lifted his legs, exposing his hole to Dean's greedy eyes. Dean dipped his fingers into the jar of Vaseline, slicking his fingers with a generous amount of the substance. Unable to tear his eyes away from his mate's beautiful face, he steadied Will's legs on his shoulders with one hand, while reaching for Will's hole with the other.

  Will released another of those sinfully beautiful noises, and Dean heard what Will wasn't saying, felt Will's need as intensely as he did his own. He rubbed his thumb over the rim of Will's opening, then softly inserted one finger inside Will's virgin channel. He barely managed to suppress a hiss at the feeling of tightness that engulfed that one digit. Will's ass clenched around the invader like a hot velvet fist, and Dean could too easily imagine how good it would feel around his dick.

  But no, he couldn't rush this, couldn't just bury himself into Will's body no matter how much he wanted to bring the two of them together. He bit the inside of his cheek in a hopeless attempt to muster a measure of control and gently pushed his finger in and out of Will, giving his mate time to adjust. A gasp of "more" had him adding a second digit. To distract himself from his own need, Dean focused slowly on Will's. It didn't really work, of course. In fact, it was completely counter-productive. When Dean crooked his fingers inside Will and found his prostate, Will clenched around him with a choked moan. His cock jerked between them, the scent of his arousal growing even more intoxicating. Dean couldn't... Moon be blessed, he couldn't hold on for much longer. He needed to touch more, to taste more, to make Will his.

 

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