Grayson's eyes filled, but he rapidly blinked the unshed tears away as if ashamed that he felt such strong emotion. A lot of men were that way, but if Apollo had learned anything from watching his brothers it was that nothing was taboo between mates.
Apollo reached up and gently brushed his thumb over Grayson's eyelashes, catching a few tears on his skin. "One day, you and I are going to be the greatest mated wolves the world has ever seen. People will talk about our bond for decades."
Grayson's breath caught. "Just decades?" he murmured.
Apollo grinned. "Maybe centuries."
Grayson's hand came up to cover Apollo's were it rested on his cheek. "Do you really believe that?"
"I do. I already know I don't like being away from you. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest when you disappeared. I don't want to find out how it would feel if anything happened to you."
"You don't think it's too soon for us to feel like this?"
Apollo chuckled. "Honey, we're wolves. We fuck, we mate, and we scratch our balls, and not necessarily in that order. But we're pretty damn easy to please. Once we find something that makes us happy, there really isn't any point in fighting it." Apollo rubbed his thumb over the curve of Grayson's high cheekbone. "And you, Grayson Sanchez, make me happy."
"Yeah?" Grayson breathed.
Apollo leaned in and brushed his lips over Grayson's before looking him in the yes again. "Yeah."
Grayson swallowed as if he was trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down for a moment. "Okay," he finally said. "I can live with that."
"You'd better because I have no intention of giving you up now that we've mated." Apollo stepped back and turned toward the map he had laid out on his desk. "You might have had a chance before you left your mark on me, but not now."
"I'll mark you again if that's what it takes."
Apollo quickly hid his satisfied grin at the possessiveness he could hear in Grayson's voice. It was nice to know this obsession thing he had going on with his gorgeous mate went both ways.
Apollo grabbed a pen and circled the area on the map Grayson had indicated and then folded the map up, sticking it in his back pocket. "Let me see your cell phone."
Grayson dug into his pocket and then held his cell phone out without question. Apollo quickly typed his cell phone number into it then handed it back. "If you need me for anything before we meet up, call me. I don't care if you just need to tell me a leaf fell from a tree, call me."
A flicker of a smile started to curve up the corners of Grayson's lips. "There are a lot of leaves in the forest, mijo."
"I. Don't. Care."
Chapter 6
Grayson had the hardest time ever turning away and leaving Apollo standing here in front of his house. He had a deep ache in his chest like his heart was being slowly ripped out by every step he took.
Except that he knew he had to leave. His duty to his pack superseded even his desire to stay at his mate's side. And it wasn't like he was going back for a bunch of wolf-shifters that were strong enough to fight on their own. He was headed back to retrieve children, people that needed the stronger members of the pack to protect them.
He knew he was doing the right thing, no matter how much it hurt.
A couple of hours later, Grayson slowed his rapid pace when he neared the abandoned house where he had hidden everyone. He could just make out the edge of the pitched roof from where he was. If Brandon had followed his orders, the man had taken the others and run to hide in a small clearing beyond the house.
Lifting his nose into the air, Grayson drew in a deep breath of night air. Before heading to the clearing, he wanted to get a bead on whoever had been snooping around the area. If someone from the council was there to finish the job they had started back on pack lands, they were in for a big surprise.
Grayson would die before he allowed one more member of his pack to die.
There was a lingering scent of another wolf in the air, but it was fading quickly, too quickly for Grayson to pinpoint exactly which direction it was coming from. Just the knowledge that whoever had been snooping around was a shifter was enough for Grayson to be wary.
Once he had deemed the immediate area devoid of others, Grayson headed toward the small abandoned house. It was dilapidated, barely standing. Every window was broken. The paint had long ago peeled away in the sun and faded to nothing. Rotting boards were everywhere, threatening to shatter under the smallest pressure.
It was old and decaying and horrible and no one would look for a bunch of refugee wolf-shifters in such a place. At least, Grayson hoped no one would. If he was lucky-and he hadn't been lately-whoever was hanging around was just curious.
Grayson crept inside the old building, watching every step he took less because he didn't want to leave footprints behind and more because he was afraid his foot would go right through the floor.
The inside of the house was no better than the outside. At some point in time, this had been a beautiful house where a family had probably lived a healthy and happy life. Now, not even the rats were safe from the destruction.
Grayson made sure that nothing and no one had been left behind, and then slid out the back door into the moonlight and cold night air. The clearing he had ordered Brandon to take the pups to was a mere ten-minute walk from the house. It had probably been a crop field or something at one time.
Now, it was simply a field off the beaten path.
Grayson's heart started to beat faster as he headed toward the clearing. The lingering scent of another shifter was growing stronger, thicker. It was also separating into two different but distinct scents.
Two wolf-shifters.
Grayson's claws extended, a low growl starting to burn in his throat. Someone was after his pack. As big as he was, Grayson could walk like a shadow. He had learned to step lightly to avoid other shifters looking for trouble.
This time, he had no intention of avoiding them.
Grayson reached the clearing without incident and that worried him. If someone was sniffing around, they should have smelled him coming. There was enough of a breeze tonight to blow his scent to hell and back.
Grayson stopped at the edge of the clearing and lifted his nose into the air, sniffing again, drawing in a deep breath. He could smell Brandon and the pups as well as the two unknown wolf-shifters.
He could also smell the sickening coppery scent of blood.
Grayson tossed his head back and howled with rage, the heavy scent of blood tearing at his soul. If a single one of his pack members had been hurt, no force on earth would stop him from seeking revenge. He had watched too many of those he cared about die.
He couldn't handle another death and remain sane.
Not even for Apollo.
Grayson's loud howl was met by complete silence, something that scared him even more than the scent of blood. Brandon and the pups should have answered him, they should have cried out or come running or-
There … a whimper.
Grayson tried not to turn toward the muffled sound as he looked through the darkness. He didn't want anyone to know he had heard the frightened whimper. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see glowing eyes staring back at him through the foliage.
Grayson headed in the other direction, moving in a slow open circle around the clearing. He called out to Brandon, knowing that the man couldn't answer him, but needed to hide the fact that he was honing in on whoever was keeping his pack from him, moving steadily closer until he could attack.
"Brandon," he called out as he stopped not far from the glowing eyes. He planted his hands on his hips and slowly turned his head, sniffing the air as he glanced around the clearing. "Brandon, damn it, I don't have time to play games. I'm cold, hungry, and tired. I just want to get something to eat and then get some shut-eye. Where in the hell are you?"
Grayson prayed Brandon knew his words were a ruse and not meant for him. The man was very sensitive. The loss of nearly the entire pack he had been born into had affected Brandon even more so than it had affected Grayson. The man was a broken shell of his former goofy self, jumping at every sound and afraid of even the smallest of touches.
It broke Grayson's heart.
Grayson continued to look around the clearing as he took a step back, and then another, before spinning around and jumping into the bushes that hid the glowing eyes. He took in the situation in the blink of an eye and grew enraged at what he saw.
Brandon was pinned to the ground, his thin wrists bound behind his back as a larger man straddled his hips. One of his captors was teasing him, running a knife along his pale skin as he slowly cut the shirt from his blood back.
The pups were all huddled in a pile mere inches from where Brandon was being assaulted, crying as they tried not to draw too much attention to themselves. The other three adults who had survived the attack on the pack were tied and secured to a tree a couple of feet away from the pups, a man standing over them with a gun in his hand a wicked malicious smirk on his face.