He expected Red to pull out, but he didn’t. Pierce fought a hint of disappointment. He wanted Red’s kiss. With that thought still echoing in his mind, Red cupped Pierce’s jaw and tilted his head so he could kiss him. Their kiss was sweet this time. Red gently licked at Pierce’s lips.
“I’m sorry,” Red said quietly, sounding winded. “Just give me a second. The moon and finding my mate got the best of me. I couldn’t keep certain parts of my body from shifting. I’m kind of stuck inside you right now. Just give it a second.”
Everything inside Pierce froze. Every single word Red had spoken didn’t make sense. “What are you talking about?” He tried to pull away. Red’s dick didn’t budge even a centimeter from Pierce’s ass. Panic set in. The fog that had been keeping his senses dulled started fading away.
“Quit squirming. You’re making it worse.”
Red sounded inhuman again. His voice kept getting deeper and growling.
“What am I making worse?” His gaze shot over his shoulder.
Red’s features changed. For a split second, he resembled a wolf, and then he was normal again. Pierce went still. Fear left him helpless. While Pierce looked on, it happened again. Red was a wolf. The wolf squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head, and Red was back in his place. With each passing heartbeat, Pierce came closer to hyperventilating. There was a wolf’s dick inside him. Holy shit. What the fuck was happening? The world seemed to darken around the edges. He couldn’t breathe.
“Stay calm. Take a breath, pup.”
Red’s voice sounded like it came from far away. His knees refused to hold him. All he could hear was his rapid breathing. Then there was nothing.
Three
Two weeks back in Tennessee and nothing felt right. After awaking in his hotel room alone in New Orleans with nothing but an address on the nightstand, and a scar on his neck was left behind to prove he wasn’t insane, Pierce couldn’t seem to reclaim any sense of normalcy. More often than he cared to admit, he found himself bent at the waist and sucking air. There was a gaping hole in his chest that nothing would fill. He couldn’t explain the emptiness that left him feeling like he was drowning all hours of the day. His entire life, he had told himself he wasn’t crazy. Pierce wasn’t so sure he could keep making that claim. Reality seemed to slip farther away every day. All the times state workers had tried to commit him came rushing to the surface. Maybe he really was crazy after all.
A round ass in gray slacks plopped onto the edge of Pierce’s desk. Pierce swallowed an aggravated sigh as he met the stare of his co-worker, Craig. He looked exactly like every office asshole. Craig’s mom worked in HR and he had no fear of losing his job. He was a terrible person, and he seemed to get an unusual amount of satisfaction from tormenting Pierce.
“So, hey, P. The girls and I are about to head to lunch. We’re forwarding our phones to your desk since you never go anywhere. Okay? Nice chat.”
Aggravation rose in Pierce’s throat, choking the life from him. The girls were six ladies who—for reasons Pierce would never understand—seemed to consider Craig their work husband. They did everything together. Taking on the workload of seven additional people for an hour—if he was lucky and they actually came back on time—was way too much work for one person. He wouldn’t get a lunch break.
A man appeared at Craig’s side. He had golden eyes—like a pot of leprechaun’s gold—and dark hair. “You’ll have to find someone else to do your job. Pierce has lunch plans.”
Before Craig could look the new arrival’s way, the man’s eyes suddenly turned green, as if there had never been anything unnatural about them.
“Who are you?”
The guy smiled. It was a tight gesture without a hint of kindness. “I’m Jonathan. Pierce is having lunch with me. Now it’s time for you to go away.”
Craig stood, as if he meant to throw around his weight. “Look, dude. No nonemployees are allowed in this area.”
Jonathan smirked. His expression made Pierce think he relished a fight. Jonathan clucked his tongue. “Move along, Craig. We would hate for everyone to learn about your nasty rash in three, two...”
“What rash?” Craig’s question died on a squeak. He rushed away, looking like he fought to keep from tearing at his skin.
Pierce blinked at the door where Craig had been. He had no idea what just happened. He looked Jonathan’s way.
Jonathan’s eyes shifted back to gold. “Hi, Pierce. I’m Celeste’s grandson. Is it okay if we talk?”
A smile snapped to Pierce’s lips at the claim. “You’re not Celeste’s grandson. She can’t be more than twenty-five.”
Jonathan tilted his head to one side—like listening to a voice only he could hear. His mouth lifted in one corner. “Oh, Celeste likes you. But you know that appearances aren’t really what they seem. You’ve always known that, haven’t you?”
Pierce motioned toward an empty chair nearby. Jonathan took the hint and grabbed the chair. He brought it closer and sat. Pierce couldn’t look away from Jonathan’s eyes. They seemed to swirl. Pierce kept catching himself leaning closer, as if hypnotized by a barely suppressed power. “Who are you really?”
Jonathan smiled. “A friend of Red’s. He’s been pretty pitiful since you freaked out.”
Pierce didn’t know how to respond. Everything about his night with Red was a mixture of blurry moments and clear-as glass-reflections. He didn’t trust his own mind any longer.
“There’s nothing wrong with your mind and you know it.”
Pierce blinked. “Did you just read my mind?”
Rather than answer, Jonathan switched topics. “What do you remember about your childhood?”
One of Pierce’s shoulders lifted in a half shrug. He didn’t like this topic. “I grew up in state care.”
Jonathan took in an audible breath, as if bracing himself for an argument. “Please stop avoiding the truth. Everything you believe is real.”
Despite the situation, a smile tugged at Pierce’s lips. “That’s exactly what Red said to me.”
Jonathan took Pierce’s hand. Warmth crawled up Pierce’s arm and settled into his chest, calming him. Jonathan held his stare. “That’s because Red is your mate and he can read your thoughts. He knows about your childhood and why you keep gravitating toward New Orleans. So, I ask again. Tell me about your childhood. Not the shit you tell everyone else, but the truth.”
Pierce still didn’t understand what was happening, but he realized he never would if he didn’t take a leap of faith. Something about Jonathan calmed him. So he told the truth. “When I was four, I was found by a wildlife officer in the swamps of southern Louisiana. Growing up, every new place they moved me to would give me the same story. They believed I had been dumped in the woods like an abandoned dog. Every effort was made to find my family, but no one ever came forward and there were no leads. They said all I knew was my first name and couldn’t tell them anything about my mom. The truth is, no one would listen to me, because everything I said sounded crazy.” A self-deprecating smile touched Pierce’s lips. “After all, who believes a small child when they tell stories about black eyes and long claws? They thought I probably saw animals, which I did. There were wolves there too, but this was different. It was evil. I saw monsters in those woods, and I know they’re real, even though the memories have faded over the years.”