Tempestuous Miracles (5 page)

The last phrase came out a little unsteady, because at that exact moment, Frey was hit by the alluring, intoxicating scent of Mirian's arousal. Okay, that wasn't what he had intended when he'd removed the weapons from the equation. Not that he was complaining, far from it, but it was a little difficult to focus on remaining calm when all he wanted to do was turn toward his mate and ravish him right then and there.

It was perhaps a good thing that parental presence was the universal libido killer. Proctor didn't exactly back off, still glaring fiercely at Frey. When he finally spoke, it was with the words Frey had earlier expected and enough venom to kill an elephant. "I wish I could say the same."

The arousal faded, replaced by apprehension, and Frey mentally sighed. Well, it was progress, he supposed, although if things continued on this note, he dreaded the unavoidable moment when his family would turn up too.

Chapter Four

It was a funny thing, how things could change so much within the expanse of a handful of hours. The mansion where Mirian had lived for the better part of his childhood looked exactly the same, but for some reason, when Mirian stepped inside, hand-in-hand with Frey, it felt so different.

No one had spoken since the tense exchange on the beach. Gonzalo had briefly introduced himself and suggested that they head back to the house so that Mirian could change into clean, dry clothes, and that had been that. The walk to the mansion had been a study in confusion, frustration and maybe just a bit of lust.

At some level, Mirian realized it shouldn't have aroused him to see Frey attack his father. Perhaps he should have even been scared. But the way Frey had moved, so swiftly, like a predator... It had made different images flash through Mirian's mind, stirred wicked desires in his heart, as intense and unstoppable as the storm.

And really, Mirian couldn't feel guilty about it, not when it had been obvious from the beginning that Frey was only protecting him and had no intention of hurting anyone. Mirian still didn't know what to make of it, but with every second that passed, he felt increasingly reassured by Frey's presence.

The moment they arrived, they—or rather, Mirian—were pounced upon by a frantic Ariel. "Where were you?" she asked. "God, we were all so worried."

"I'm fine," Mirian assured her. "You know I can take care of myself, and I don't go to parts of the island that are unsafe."

His father made his way to the bar and poured himself a hefty dose of absinthe. Clearly, he was more upset than he was letting on, because he only drank absinthe on the anniversary of Mirian's mother's death. "It's never safe to be caught outside in a storm like that," he said.

Mirian wanted to say that he hadn't exactly known the storm would hit when he'd left, but that was irrelevant. It would be merely dancing around the topic on everyone's mind. Ariel hadn't even asked, although she was clearly curious about the presence of the mysterious new arrival who was holding Mirian's hand.

It would be up to him to clarify the situation, since an explanation from Frey would not be received well. "It's not the storm that's the problem right now, is it?"

His father set the glass on the counter so hard Mirian was surprised it didn't shatter. "Indeed not. Can you explain exactly how you met a strange werewolf who you now identify as your
mate
?"

The latter word was spoken like an insult, with such vitriol that Mirian was not surprised to feel Frey bristle. He squeezed Frey's hand and was relieved to notice some of the tension drain out of Frey's shoulders. For the moment, the shifter remained silent, allowing Mirian to address the inquiry. "I found him unconscious on the beach and we waited out the storm together," Mirian told his father. "I know it seems strange, but believe me when I say there's something special between us."

"Something special," his father drawled out sarcastically. "Somehow, I very much doubt that."

Frey's temper finally snapped, although he kept his voice remarkably level and calm. "Sir, I think we started out on the wrong foot," the werewolf said. "Perhaps we were remiss in blurting out things so suddenly. You are correct in that you know nothing about me, about my people and our ways.

"A mate is the most important treasure in the life of one of my kind. Until recently, many of us deemed such things only stories, legends. We thought that it is a dream to find your perfect match, the other half of your soul. But I realize now that it is not."

There was something in Frey's voice, a strength and a quiet authority that silenced any protest Mirian's father might have liked to utter. "I arrived here in a yacht that belongs to my family," Frey explained. "The moment I saw the island, I sensed Mirian. I didn't know it was him that I sensed, but I knew I could not leave. My family wanted to turn the yacht around when the storm struck, so I jumped into the water. That's why Mirian found me on the beach.

"You have no reason to trust me, but you must know this. You cannot keep Mirian trapped here forever. He needs more. Surely you can see it. Even if you're trying to protect him, you're also squashing him, killing his vitality. Besides, there is no guarantee that the island can continue being your refuge. But I can be that. A werewolf's mate is sacred. I won't ever let anything happen to him. I would die first."

Mirian didn't expect it to be that easy. Even if he believed it, even if he knew in his heart that it was true, his father couldn't possibly feel the same.

And yet, much to his surprise, the older man nodded. "You're right. I can't protect him forever."

Mirian gaped. "Father?"

"Mr. Lamine and I have been discussing this," Gonzalo explained in a sedate voice. "We believe the reason why we haven't been found yet is due to your young age. Despite Mr. Lamine's attempts to distract his father, it is more likely that he simply decided to wait until you were old enough to marry."

Mirian felt faint. If they were right, his grandfather could come here and take him any day now. "And you didn't think it was relevant to warn me?"

"We had hoped we had more time," his father replied softly. "I'm just... I'm not ready. I can't lose you." He shook himself, facing Frey once more. Just like that, his expression grew dagger-sharp again. "But regardless of my concerns, that doesn't mean you are the right person to safeguard my son. You come here to our home and suddenly claim that you are his mate? That you would do anything for him? Please... You barely know him."

"I realize that," Frey answered, "and I know it seems odd for a human. But it is our way. And I have no intention of rushing Mirian into anything. I hope to get to know him, at the pace he sets."

"Mirian is a child," his father snapped. "He doesn't even know what he wants."

At that, Mirian finally recovered from his shock. "No, Father, I'm not a child, and I'm not like you either. You've helped and protected me all this time, but what you fail to realize is that we are fundamentally different. I am a Bearer, and that means more than you are able to understand."

In the past, he'd thought the emptiness inside him was simply due to the lack of more varied company, of real prospects and pastimes to engage his attention. But now, he knew that was not the case. Now, he knew what he'd been waiting for.

"I admit I don't fully understand it either, but I believe Frey. And you will not take this from me because of your doubts. I refuse to allow it."

His father seemed struck dumb by Mirian's reaction. Mirian couldn't blame him. He had rebelled against his father's authority in the past, mostly because the man stubbornly insisted to keep him on the island at all costs, but he'd never gone quite so far.

Now, he wasn't frightened anymore. He had Frey's strength, and he felt free, safe, right.

"Mirian..." his father finally said. "Please, you have to reconsider. You've only known this man for a few hours."

Mirian wanted to say that he'd drawn a sketch of Frey's eyes before they'd even met, but he himself wasn't sure how to explain that, so he didn't. "Stranger things have happened. Besides, like Frey said, we're not necessarily in a rush. This is only the beginning."

"Fair enough, Mirian," his father answered. "I can't... I can't promise more, but I will try."

Mirian let out a sigh of relief. He knew how much he meant to his father, so that was the most he could expect.

Briefly leaving Frey's side, he went to his father and gave him a big hug. "Thank you. This means a lot."

His father held him tightly, like he had so many times in the past, when Mirian had been only a frightened child haunted by nightmares he didn't really understand. He didn't speak, but he didn't have to. They were still in this together.  His father would support him if this was what he wanted.

When Mirian and his father finally broke the embrace, Frey cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed that he'd interrupted them. "It's likely that you will have a few extra guests soon. My family will be looking for me."

"Of course they will." Mirian's father rubbed his eyes tiredly, but he seemed resigned. "I suppose it was to be expected. We'll keep an eye out for them." He pressed a kiss to Mirian's temple. "Go on. Go with your mate. Show him around. If you're going to do this, do it right."

Mirian beamed brightly and ran back to Frey. Before they left, his father said one last thing. "Oh, and Mr. King. If you hurt my son, I'll find a way to kill you."

Frey took the threat in stride. "You won't have to."

Mirian felt the promise like a sinful caress sliding over his skin. It wasn't something particularly special. Frey had told him that exact same thing many times before. But it meant a lot to Mirian, and it made something click inside him.

The moment they were out of his father's sight, Mirian grabbed Frey's hand and pulled his mate toward his room. Frey could have easily stopped him—he'd already made it clear that human weapons or skills were no match for werewolf abilities. He didn't. He allowed Mirian to drag him along without protest. In truth, Mirian had no idea what he was doing. He was just following his heart and, if he wanted to be perfectly honest, his body.

As soon as they got to Mirian's room, he closed the door behind them and pinned Frey against the wood. He had no experience with this and he knew he was being rash, but he didn't care anymore.

Without allowing himself to hesitate, Mirian pressed his body to Frey's and crushed their mouths together. The moment their lips came into contact, his mind went blank. He had no plans beyond this point, no clue on what he was supposed to do—so he didn't think. He just acted, and it worked beautifully.

At first, Frey tried to protest. "Wait, Mirian... We... We need to talk about this."

Mirian would have been disheartened by the apparent rejection had the words not come out breathless and raw. Following a sudden urge, he ground his hips against Frey's. He wasn't as tall as Frey, but he still managed the right angle and brought their cocks together. Frey let out a tortured moan. "Oh shit..."

Mirian was satisfied to see Frey come undone like that. Of course, he wasn't doing much better himself. In fact, the moment Frey stopped resisting and started kissing him in earnest, Mirian's knees went weak. He would have fallen if not for Frey wrapping a strong arm around his waist. He whimpered into their lip-lock, hoping to convince Frey to touch him more, to give him what they both craved.

Wetness gathered between his ass cheeks, and it startled him so much he almost jerked away from Frey. It wasn't that he hadn't felt it before—his suppressors tamed his heat, but that didn't mean he couldn't get aroused. Just the same, it had never been like this, and never in the company of someone else.

Fortunately, Frey's presence neutralized any nervousness he might have felt. He moaned and in the process parted his lips, granting Frey entrance. Frey didn't delay on taking him up on the invitation. He thrust his tongue into Mirian's mouth, claiming him, devouring him, taking everything he had to give.

The next thing Mirian knew, Frey was lifting him in his arms, strong hands clenching around his buttocks. Mirian trembled in Frey's hold, but not because of fear. The only thing he could focus on was the excitement, the need, the desire to be skin to skin with this man he craved so much.

His mate almost seemed to read his mind. Frey placed him on the bed with worshipful gentleness and proceeded to divest him of his clothes. Mirian hadn't gotten the chance to wash up and change after their stint on the beach and in the cave, but Frey didn't seem to care or find any obstacle in it. When the humid garments protested being removed normally, Frey let his claws slide over the material. The sharp tips sliced through the cloth like a knife through butter, and the proof of Frey's wild nature made Mirian's cock throb and his anus clench around empty air.

Frey's nostrils flared and he let out a growl that sounded nothing like what a human would utter. "Mirian..."

The sound of his name on Frey's lips was like a palpable caress on Mirian's overheated skin. Mirian let out a choked groan. "Frey... Oh, God... Please, please... I need..."

He had no idea what he needed, didn't know what he was asking for. He just knew that if Frey didn't touch him more, he would die. His world was consumed by the heat of Frey's flesh, the strength of his virile presence. Frey's eyes were glowing, fierce and bright like supernovas, and in their intensity, Mirian saw the tempestuous blaze of the storm that had brought them together. It would be so easy to drown in that gaze, he thought, so easy to forget everything he was and had ever been as long as he could find his new self in those bright orbs.

Hypnotized by Frey's eyes, Mirian lost track of time, to the point where he completely missed the moment Frey managed to undress him. He didn't miss the results, though. As soon as Mirian was naked, Frey practically pounced of him. It wasn't like before, on the beach. While he covered Mirian's body with his own, he supported himself on his elbows so his weight wasn't actually pressing Mirian down. Given the passion that was blazing between them, what followed was perhaps shocking. Frey proceeded to pepper Mirian's face with butterfly-light kisses. Everything from his lips to his nose and eyelids became a target, as if Frey wanted to kiss each individual part of Mirian.