A Family with His Werewolf Mate (8 page)

The Maximoff pack was very influential in Russia, and Dean
suspected they, together with Wendel Adler, had been instrumental in his
sentencing. But that didn't matter right now. Dean had other things to worry
about than Boris's hatred.

The drive didn't last long, and soon the Maximoff residence
loomed ahead. Dean knew the house provided a stunning view of the lake, but to
him, it seemed ominous.

Boris's underlings parked in front of the sprawling mansion.
Boris left the car without looking at Dean, and Dean followed, still without
asking any questions. It was only when he actually stepped into the house that
he felt it. Will. Will was here.

Dean's mind started to work furiously. How? How could this
be? Sure, the Gathering had known his mate's identity, but there was no reason
to bring Will here since they'd already decided to punish Dean for the imagined
slights and be done with it. Were they planning to use Will against Dean? There
was no other explanation, even if Dean couldn't understand why.

He pushed past Boris and ran, knowing his panic showed far
more than he'd have liked but unable to help himself. Will might have survived
fifty years without Dean, but he was still human, and still so very vulnerable.
Anyone here could kill him.

The guards he passed didn't try to stop him. Perhaps Boris
had warned them of such possible behavior on his part. Some simply watched
impassively, while others had that disgusted sneer which Dean had come to
associate not only with a dislike for humans, but also strong homophobic
notions.

Dean ignored them all, his wolf instincts fully focused on
his target, tracking down the lingering traces of his mate's scent. He could
smell no panic, but Will was ridiculously brave, and always had been. Moon be
blessed, for all he knew, Will had ventured here with some sort of hare-brained
plan of rescuing Dean.

He didn't have much time to process that idea because he
finally reached the room where the trail ended. He burst inside, and his gaze
instantly went to his mate.

Will seemed unharmed, but Dean couldn't be sure, couldn't
know for certain until he touched his beautiful human. His mate got up from the
couch he'd been sitting in, and Dean rushed forward, crossing the remaining
distance between them.

He took Will into his arms, squeezing him tightly, inhaling
the familiar scent of his hair. No blood, no fear, no pain. Thank the moon.

"It's okay, Dean," Will whispered, hugging him
back. "I'm fine. We're all fine."

The words finally got Dean to snap out of his panicked
trance. "Jessie? Finn?"

Will broke away from the embrace and smiled up at Dean.
"They're okay. Finn won the challenge with Wendel Adler. Jessie is
struggling a bit, but Andreas's return helped. Everyone is worried about you."
His expression sobered and he clenched his fists. "What did you think you
were doing, offering yourself like that? Surely, there had to be another
way."

The anger blazing in Will's eyes made Dean wince. He didn't
have an answer for that. When faced with the Gathering's decision to track down
Jessie, he'd panicked and simply traded himself for his son. Finding a
compromise hadn't been an issue, not with everyone as incensed as they'd
seemed. Perhaps he should have tried, but Dean didn't think it would have
worked.

"To be honest, I suspect nothing else would have stopped
them," he told Will. "I just... It didn't seem like a high price to
pay, as long as Jessie was safe."

Will glanced away from him, taking deep breaths as if
struggling for composure. Dean could empathize. He knew that, at heart, Will's
priority would always be Jessie, which was one of the reasons why Dean was
shocked his mate had come here to begin with.

He was trying to come up with some way to reassure Will when
he caught movement through the corner of his eye. For the first time, he
realized there was someone else in the room. He looked up, only to face a big,
blond-haired man who was eyeing him with obvious disapproval and maybe...
jealousy?

Dean scowled and pulled Will into his embrace again,
instinctively trying to stake his claim. He had no actual right over Will,
though, and his mate freed himself from his hold mere moments later. "I
suppose I should make the introductions. Dean, this is my friend, Mathias
Girard. Matt, this is—"

Mathias cut Will off before he could finish the phrase.
"I know who he is. Your so-called
mate
."

The latter word was said with such disdain Dean felt it like
a slap in the face. His wolf reared his head inside Dean and he narrowed his
eyes at Mathias. "Do you have a problem with me?"

"I do," Mathias shot back. "You see, I believe
you're unworthy of Will, and I aim to prove that. He needs someone who can
stand by him in his time of need, not a man who leaves at the first sign of
hardship."

"And I take it you think you can do a better job."

"I already have." Mathias sneered. "I was
there for him when you weren't. I held his hand when they cut him open to pull
out the son you abandoned. I loved him while you loved someone else."

Will went pale, his body as tense as a bow string.
"Matt..."

"Don't, Will. You know I'm right and so does he."

It hurt, but Dean did indeed know that, at least in a way. Of
course he'd been aware Will couldn't have survived on his own throughout his
pregnancy. If nothing else, he'd needed help delivering Jessie. That didn't
make it any easier to hear that another man had taken his place, that Mathias
had stood where Dean should have been.

He hated himself then, hated himself because he hadn't been
able to support his mate, that he hadn't fought harder for what he and Will had
shared. It wasn't anything new to him. The self-loathing came to him every
single day, since that fateful night when he and Will had been forced apart. He
had no right to Will, no right to make demands when he himself had betrayed
Will so utterly. But his heart was as weak and selfish as it had always been,
and he couldn't help but also hate Mathias for claiming moments that should
have belonged to Dean.

Dean shook himself and took a deep breath. No, that wasn't
it. As much as it hurt to acknowledge it, Mathias wasn't the one at fault here.
"Then I owe you a great debt," he told the man. "I thank you for
supporting him at a time when I could not."

Mathias gaped. He'd obviously not expected that reply.
"Do you think I want your gratitude?"

"Not at all, but you still have it," Dean answered
without missing a beat.

Mathias laughed. "Goddess, but you are arrogant. You
don't have the right to be grateful for anything I did for Will and Jessie.
They're not yours to be grateful for."

Dean struggled to rein in his wolf, even if Mathias's words
were straining the already frayed edges of his control. "Will is my mate,
and Jessie is my son," he replied steadily. "I won't lie. I didn't do
right by them. But I still love them, and I have loved Will for more than half
a century. That is a truth you cannot deny."

"Oh, and I take it the fact that you were bonded
throughout these past decades conveniently slipped your mind."

Dean had no intention of opening his heart further to a man
who obviously hated him. If he really did reveal all the secrets he'd kept for
years, it would be to Will and Will alone. "I'm not having this
conversation with you. If I have explanations to give, it is to Will. He and
Jessie are the only ones who have the right to judge me. Not you."

Mathias opened his mouth, perhaps intending to spit out
another insult at him. He never got the chance.

A knock sounded at the door, and Boris stepped into the room
before either of them could even bid him to enter. "I take it you're all
set."

"All set for what?" Dean asked, already dreading
the response.

"Surely our guest explained," Boris drawled.
"He didn't? Ah. Well, you see, the whole point of you being released is to
host a challenge between you and Mr. Girard. He feels that your unavoidable
defeat would lead his rights over your mate to pass to him. The Gathering
couldn't deny him."

"Matt, this isn't exactly what I had in mind," Will
protested. "You... You can't be serious."

Boris was the one to reply in Mathias's stead. "Oh, he's
very serious. The challenge is official, and already in place. It can take
place within the hour."

"Within the hour?" Will repeated, face as white as
a sheet. "But... Dean is still suffering from silver poisoning. There's no
way..."

Boris waved Will's words off. "Stay out of this, human.
You're only here because you're the prize of this challenge." He sneered.
"To be honest, I have no idea what two werewolves could see in you, but
well... Eye of the beholder and all that. Just be quiet and don't get involved.
You've done enough."

Impossibly, Will's shoulders went even more rigid at the
latter words. Dean knew enough about guilt to realize his mate was blaming
himself for Dean ending up in this situation.

Ignoring the presence of the other two men, Dean took Will's
hands and kissed them. "Hey, listen. This is a good thing. I'm fine. I can
win the challenge—for you, for us. I won't fail you again, I promise."

"How touching," Boris said behind him. "You
shouldn't lie to your mate, Simmons. I thought you already knew that."

The disgustingly saccharine tone made Dean want to punch
Boris, but he didn't. Instead, he focused on Will's beautiful, pale face.
"I've never lied to you, and I never will. I can do this."

"I can't believe you can say that with a straight face."
Mathias growled. "What about your bonding? How did it completely slip your
mind to mention it to Will before you insinuated your way into his heart?"

Dean goggled at his mate. He'd never approached this topic,
because talking about Maria with Will would be awkward at best. However, it
hadn't occurred to him that Will might have believed him to be already mated
when they'd met. "No!" he snapped, instinctively defending himself
even if he hadn't intended to rise to the bait. "It wasn't like
that."

Mathias arched a brow, his disdain obvious. He'd have
probably said something more, but Will interrupted them. "Mathias..."

Something in Will's tone—or perhaps the fact that Will had
used the man's actual name instead of its shortened form—made Mathias back down.
"This is a futile conversation. The challenge would not stand if both of
the combatants aren't in optimum shape. There is no honor in defeating an
opponent who is already halfway dead. We will wait."

Without another word, Mathias pushed past Will and Dean, and
stalked out of the room. Boris cursed in Russian, having obviously looked
forward to seeing Dean ripped to pieces by Mathias. "Enjoy this little
reprieve, while it lasts. Oh, and for the record... We'll be watching closely,
so don't think the human can in any way convince his... friend to spare you.
The terms are set—and you will fight to the death."

Dean half expected the other werewolf to drag him off again
and throw him back into a cave, but it didn't happen. Instead, Boris left the
room, already barking orders at his staff and instructing them to keep an eye
on both Will and Dean. A guard closed the door, and the relief that filled Dean
was so overpowering his knees almost gave way.

Then again, it probably wasn't relief at all that caused his
weakness. Pride and resolve had kept him standing when he'd been in Mathias's
presence, but with his rival gone, he suddenly felt drained. His body would
heal now that the silver had stopped poisoning him, but the process had only
just started. He'd have probably fallen had his mate not been there to catch
him.

"Easy there," Will whispered. "Come now. You
need to rest."

He guided Dean to the couch and carefully helped him lie
down. A burst of shame coursed through Dean at this show of weakness, but he
couldn't hide from his mate, and Will wouldn't judge him.

Still, when Will moved to pull away, anxiety rushed over
Dean. He grabbed Will's arm and kept his mate from leaving. "Don't go. I
need to talk to you."

"Whatever you have to say can wait," Will argued,
shaking his head. "We need to clean your wounds and get you something to
eat."

"It's already waited for too long." Dean protested.
"Please, Will, look at me."

Will did, and Dean was so taken with the deep pools of his
green eyes that he almost forgot what he wanted to say. It was the tension
reflected in Will's gaze that reminded him of it. "I never lied," he
told Will. "When we met, I didn't have a mate."

"I went to track you down when you didn't show up for
our meetings," Will said quietly as he sat on the edge of the couch.
"The woman at the bed and breakfast told me you'd left with your
wife."

Dean winced. Given that he hadn't even been able to send Will
a note, he could only imagine how hard the whole thing had struck Will.

"That night, at the Gathering, my father cornered me. He
knew about us, Will. He threatened to kill you if I didn't do what he wanted me
to. So... I obeyed. But I always loved you. That has never changed, not even
once."

He wished he could say that there had been no other choice,
but he had promise not to lie, and he didn't know that for a fact. At the time,
it had seemed like that, but now... Dean had spent fifty years regretting that
he hadn't at least attempted to find another way. And then, he'd been torn
between the sons he loved so much and the mate whose absence left him so
bereft.

He didn't really expect Will to believe or forgive him, but
his mate always had a way of surprising him. "Who was she?" he asked,
his voice trembling slightly. "Your... mate?"

The question shocked Dean to the core. He didn't know if he
would have ever dared to ask about Will's past had it not hit him straight in
the face today. But he supposed Will deserved to know, and Will had always been
so very brave.