03-Strength of the Mate (16 page)

Granger’s weakened leg couldn’t hold him. Braced on his forepaws, Granger collapsed onto his haunches. Dawson landed a bite to the side of Granger’s neck. That solid, muscle-packed front body of Granger’s held Dawson off for a few more minutes. Dawson adjusted the grip of his jaws. He squared his body and planted all four paws in the dirt. An instant later, Granger collapsed onto his side, Dawson’s teeth at this throat.

When Granger flailed, kicking up dust, Dawson snarled and tightened his bite. He shook his head violently. Granger’s body flopped around, looking like an under-stuffed toy. Dawson held Granger’s back pinned to the ground for several moments, until the brown wolf seemed to fold into himself.

With a loud yelp followed by a pitiful whine, Granger tucked his legs against his body. His tail curled up over his genitals, lying uselessly against his belly. He made pathetic sounds as he lay passively, belly up, at Dawson’s feet.

Dawson released Granger’s throat, turned, and calmly trotted toward Adam.

A deafening cheer rose up from the gathered Marines. Adam knew they weren’t all werewolves, so the humans must have turned out to watch, too. Money began to change hands. Marines would bet on anything, if there was entertainment value to it. The outcome appeared to be a popular one. A lot of unhappy faces were gathered with Lieutenant Carson, across the clearing. That group started to push its way through the crowd. It was obvious they were the subjects of ridicule. It was their own fault for backing the wrong horse. Or in this case, wolf.

Paul, Jason, and Will were jubilant. They celebrated with others around them, too. Adam recognized some of them as werewolves. It actually made sense for the humans to celebrate the change in leadership, too. Like Adam, they were sick of being victimized.

Roger Allen appeared beside Adam. “Gunny Rivers won, right?”

Adam chuckled. “Yeah. It’s good for everybody,” he said.

“All right. That’s cool.” Roger looked around at the fractious crowd. With a shrug, he went over and joined Jason and Paul.

Two men were kneeling beside Granger in the center of the clearing. They had medical supply bags with them. Adam guessed one was a Navy corpsman. The other was probably a Navy veterinarian.

Dawson reached Adam and walked a circle around him. His shoulders didn’t quite reach Adam’s, but he was big and powerful looking up close. Adam gasped when he saw the wolf’s eyes were dark violet. They were the color of Dawson’s, when he was angry or…turned on…but they were the eyes of a wolf now, not a human. Still, Adam could see some spark in them that was entirely Dawson.

“I’ve got your uniform and dog tags,” Adam said as Dawson circled him again. Tim had told him werewolves understood when you talked to them in wolf form. He took a chance it was true.

Dawson ignored the crowd that surrounded them. They shouted praise and thanks at Dawson. Some reached out to touch him. He ignored them all. Adam stood still, letting Dawson sniff at him. Dawson pressed his nose to different places on Adam’s body. He seemed to have a liking for the hair behind Adam’s ears. The only problem with that was Adam was ticklish there.

Paul appeared in front of Adam, looming over him. He started to take Dawson’s uniform. Adam resisted.

“He’s not going to shift for awhile, so he won’t need this right away,” Paul said.

Adam relinquished the clothing, but he kept the dog tags clenched in his hand. “Is this what passes for a werewolf victory party?” he asked.

“This is nothing,” Jason answered. “Dawson’s just a pack leader. The real party is when a True Alpha takes over a pack.”

“Oh yeah,” Adam said as he remembered. “Tim and Jeremy were drunk for days.”

Paul handed Dawson’s uniform to Roger. “Go put these in Gunny’s hooch for him.” Roger was gone in an instant. Paul turned to shout at Adam. “Go where Dawson goes. Stay at his side no matter what. We’ll be following you, if you need something. Just make sure he always knows you’re close by and within reach.”

“Why?” Adam demanded.

Paul motioned that the crowd was too loud for him to hear. Adam doubted that. He looked at Dawson and found violet eyes already watching him. Okay, Dawson wanted Adam to stay with him for a little while. That was cool. Adam didn’t mind.

A small wolf suddenly emerged from the crowd. Adam watched it in surprise. A couple more appeared. They acted a lot like excited puppies. Dawson swung his large head around to look at Adam. He looked like he was smiling. Adam chuckled at the idea.

“Okay,” Paul said, appearing beside him again, “it looks like some of the young weres can’t control their shift during exciting rituals. Dawson knows how to handle them. They’re harmless. A few older weres might want to greet Dawson in wolf form. It’s an old tradition, but not done so much with pack leaders these days. Just go with it.”

Before Adam could reply, Dawson began to walk through the crowd. Adam stepped up beside him. The crowd jostled them and he reflexively reached out to steady himself with a hand against Dawson’s side.

“Sorry,” Adam said, snatching his hand back.

Dawson didn’t look like he minded.

Adam followed Dawson out of the truck lot. He had no idea where they were headed. Small wolves kept tripping and getting between Dawson and Adam. It got annoying after awhile. If it was important for him to be at Dawson’s side, Dawson would just have to deal with whatever Adam had to do to stay there. He fisted a hand in the fur at the top of Dawson’s shoulders. If the giant wolf minded, he didn’t show it. And it kept the little wolves from pushing between them.

As they meandered through the base, Adam realized full dark had fallen. He hadn’t even noticed. The generators had kicked on, adding to the constant racket. The blood matting Dawson’s fur looked sickening and black in the giant flood lights that illuminated Camp Fallujah. Adam wondered idly how Dawson was going to get clean. Would he clean his fur? Or shift and shower?

Dawson abruptly stopped walking. He stretched his forepaws out in front of him, lowering only the front half of his immense body, and stretching decadently. He rose up and yawned audibly, then licked at his own muzzle. Dawson gazed at Adam with heavy-lidded eyes. A wave of exhaustion swept over Adam. He wondered how much longer this would go on. It had been a hell of a day and Adam was ready to sleep.

His breath caught in his chest when he remembered Dawson’s earlier words. He’d assumed he was going to get to fuck Adam again, and then had basically ordered Adam to stay the night. Adam had to admit, the sex between them was awesome. But Dawson was either an entitled asshole, or he thought they had started a relationship after just one fuck.

How the hell do you talk about this shit with someone who’s currently a big, furry wolf?

Dawson sat down beside Adam. He was so close, he was almost sitting on Adam’s foot. It was natural for Adam to reach out and scratch one of Dawson’s ears. He was pleased when Dawson pressed against him and groaned his approval. Adam realized he’d started down the wrong road. He needed to correct his course.

Standing up, Dawson gave a mighty shake. Fur and dust flew everywhere. He turned toward Adam and licked the fingers of one hand. Adam wasn’t sure what to do about that.

When Dawson started walking again, Adam kept pace. He was still overwhelmingly tired. Dawson’s trajectory had them crossing several roads. Maybe—with any luck—he was heading for the trailers. Glancing around, Adam saw the sea of camo uniforms had thinned out. Everybody looked like they were heading for their hooches, too.

Will, Jason, and Paul emerged from the darkness.

“It seems like Dawson is ready to clean up and get to sleep,” Jason said as he fell into step beside Adam.

“I hope so,” Adam replied. He was surprised by the roughness of his own voice. “I’m fucking tired. How is he still standing?” Adam gestured toward Dawson.

“He’s running on adrenaline and testosterone, right now,” said Jason. “The adrenaline has to drop before he can shift.”

Adam nodded. He was too tired to voice a reply.

“Roger said that Dawson has a ruck already packed and waiting in his hooch, so Mercer sent him to get it and bring it to you.” Jason looked at him like Adam was following the conversation.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with it?” Why couldn’t Dawson get it himself after he shifted?

“Just take it with you to the showers.” Jason’s tone indicated the answer should have been obvious. “It probably has what he needs to take a shower, and a change of clothes. You still have his dog tags, right?”

Adam reflexively held up the chain, letting the metal tags dangle from his fingers. “He can’t do all this himself, once he shifts?”

Jason glanced around them. He looked damn uncomfortable, which Adam found funny for some reason. It didn’t seem like he could meet Adam’s eyes. “Rituals are exhausting for dominant weres. If he had to, I guess he could get by on his own.”

Maybe it was because he was so damn tired, but Adam was really fucking confused. “Well, why can’t another werewolf keep an eye on him? Why am I in charge of shifter-sitting?”

“Yeah, we can. We do!” Jason was obviously agitated. He ran a hand over his closely shorn hair. “Listen, I’ve never tried to explain all this to a human before. Our dominant wolves are important to us. They’re special. Especially the good ones, ’cause you’ve seen what happens when we have a bad one. Even pack leaders, who are really just delegates for True Alphas, deserve more than just a corpsman making sure they don’t slip in the shower and bust their heads.”

“Yeah, I get that part,” Adam said impatiently. “So, shouldn’t actual pack members take care of him? Whoever has the closest relationship with the pack leader, like a relative or a best buddy—” Adam started to reply but Jason cut him off.

“It’s not that simple,” he blurted. “This is a big deal, Madison. It’s a big responsibility, but it’s also a hell of an honor.”

Guilt at Jason’s words had Adam stammering. “D-d-dude, I’m s-s-o sorry about the wolf-sitting thing. That was outta line. I’m just so fucking tired I can’t think straight.”

“Would you just shut the fuck up and let me finish?” Jason snapped. He was probably just as tired as Adam. “Yesterday, Dawson decided he would have to take over as pack leader. He started to assert his authority, even before he issued Challenge. A lot of us backed his intent, and that made power start to slide his direction. I don’t know if that even makes sense to you. But the important part is, at the same time he asserted his authority, he intentionally reached out and formed an intimate bond with you.”

Adam wanted the Earth to swallow him whole, right then and there. “Christ. Don’t make more out of it than it was. We fucked. Once.”

“He shared himself with you after our full-moon run,” Jason said with exasperation. “And he left his mark on you, where everyone can see it.”

He stumbled when Dawson was suddenly standing in his path. He watched in wide-eyed confusion as Dawson pushed his cool, damp nose against Adam’s throat. He exhaled several hot breaths against Adam’s skin, before he dragged his tongue up the side of Adam’s neck.

“Oh shit.” Adam’s heart threatened to stop beating. He pressed the fingers of one hand to his own throat, even though he knew he couldn’t feel the dark bruises. “The whole camp knows we fucked.”

Dawson sneezed. He turned back toward the trailers and walked off. Adam and Jason quickly followed.

“The whole camp knows the new pack leader considers you special, and holds you in high regard.” Jason sounded angry now. Even in the dim, artificial light, Adam saw his jaw was clenched.

Adam couldn’t slow his breathing. His head spun. He should sit down, before he fell down. Jesus Christ, things couldn’t get any worse. “I don’t deserve to be anyone special to your pack leader,” Adam rasped. His throat was dry.

“You can talk to him about that tomorrow, when he’s fully human again,” Jason replied. Now he just sounded tired. “Tonight, you’re gonna take damn good care of my pack leader, just like he wants you to.”

Adam blinked, feeling like he’d just been slapped. Hard.

Roger Allen appeared in front of them. He slid a duffle bag off his shoulder and handed it to Adam. “It was sitting beside the door with a note that said to give it to you,” Roger said. “No idea what’s inside.”

“I got it, no problem,” Adam said, hoping he’d managed to sound relaxed and confident. “Thanks, Roger.” Jason was right. Adam needed to stop acting like a dick and do what he needed to do, to get through the night.

Roger smiled wide. “You guys need me for anything else tonight?”

“Nah, thanks man,” Jason replied. “See ya tomorrow.”

They reached the first row of trailers that housed the showers. Paul caught up to them. “I think the last one in this row will have the most privacy,” he said, looking at Dawson. “Most guys don’t walk down that far.”

Dawson seemed to head for the last trailer in the first row. Adam shouldered the bag and followed.

“Do you need one of us to get anything from your hooch for you?” asked Paul.

The question took Adam by surprise. His mind raced. “I should be fine with what Dawson packed,” he replied. “But thanks, man.”

“If you find out you need something, just shout at us out the window. One of us can go get it.”

Adam laughed. “What? Are you guys gonna stand guard?”

“Only when you’re in the shower.” Paul’s reply was casual, but he was totally serious. “Because it’s sort of a public area. Once we get you to Gunny’s hooch, we’ll all hit our racks.”

Adam sobered instantly. “Is Dawson in danger?” His earlier fear of retaliation resurfaced with urgency.

“The next few days might be tense, but I’m not sensing any real hostility.” Paul’s tone was reassuring. “We’re mostly going to ensure your privacy,” he said conspiratorially.

They reached the last shower trailer. Adam had more questions about what he’d gotten himself into, but it was too late. Time to just shut up and deal. He was good at that, at least.

Heading for the door, Dawson beside him, Adam suddenly found this absurd. “Is he going to shift first?” he called out, as the Marines moved to a distance to stand guard.