Michel completely understood. He'd felt the same way. Once more, his thoughts turned to Jason and he had to drag them away to focus on his friends.
Laramie-the black wolf-had found his mate over a century before, right after they'd come over from Ireland. He'd gone through his own time of exile almost twenty years ago, with his sweet blond woman-Denise. They had two cubs together, and since they were both grown, were making sounds as if they planned to try for a third.
He wished them both all the best.
Preall had just come out of their kind's self-induced exile a year before, and Michel still kicked himself for not joining his long-time buddy. It wouldn't have been the end of the world to go into hiding early, but he'd wanted a few more years to be Josh's grandfather … something else he'd need to discuss with Jason. Michel had kids.
If Jason ever returned his calls.
Michel had agreed to take things slow, even though leaving his mate with a concerned Raul and Sean had been the hardest thing he'd ever done in all his life. He'd called Jason the next day, but Sean had informed him that his mate had needed a couple days to decompress and accept and hadn't wanted to speak with him.
That had been four days ago.
Of course, that didn't stop Michel from texting Jason's phone several times a day. However, the lack of response was getting old. It took every bit of self-control Michel possessed to keep from hunting Jason down and demanding to know when slow had turned into silent treatment.
A nip to Michel's haunch brought him whipping around and snarling. Jamie whined and dropped to his back. Michel immediately felt bad. He knew his friend was near bottom on the totem pole that made up their pack, but he hadn't meant to make him feel like he had to show his belly.
Michel softly bumped Jamie with his snout, encouraging him back to his feet, then nuzzling his neck and shoulder. Quick to rebound, Jamie nudged him back, then bounced away.
Amused, Michel initiated his shift. Once human, he pulled the wolf into his arms and ruffled his fur. "Ye silly, pup," he murmured affectionately.
Jamie licked Michel's neck and the chin of his beard.
Laughing, Michel shoved him away. "Shift already. We have a deer to skin. Congrats on the kill, by the way," he added, knowing his friend could always use more praise.
After one more yip and wriggling wolf prance-really, Michel had no idea when his friend would grow up-Jamie initiated his shift. After a moment, a grinning, slender, light-brown haired-and surprisingly short for a shifter at only five foot nine-man knelt nearby.
Jamie jumped to his feet and rubbed his hands together, completely comfortable with his nudity, as all of them were. "I call dibs on the liver. I plan to make liver and onions," he announced.
Michel opened his mouth to contest the claim. Liver and onions was damn good. He thought better of it and huffed a laugh. "As long as I get invited to that meal."
"Sure. You and yer boy toy," Jamie replied. He winked. "I heard he's really cute. How'd ye let that little morsel slip through yer fingers?"
At that, Michel couldn't control his growl of anger and annoyance. He didn't know what bothered him more-the fact that Jamie, and evidently some others, were checking his mate out, or that Michel really had somehow allowed Jason to slip through his fingers.
He repeatedly racked his brain, trying to figure out what he'd said to make his mate run. He just couldn't figure it out. He thought he'd been clear. He needed Jason, wanted to please him, care for him, and make him happy. What the hell more could someone ask for? Even someone as young as Jason should appreciate that.
Michel's eyes opened in shock and he felt the blood drain from his face as it suddenly hit him. "Oh, shite," he hissed. "Fuck, I'm an idiot."
Laramie plopped down next to him, a knife in hand, and started working on the carcass. "Aye, but we don't mind ye anyway." He paused and glanced over his shoulder. Upon seeing Michel's pale face, he cocked his head. "What is it?"
"I finally figured out why me mate wanted a breather," Michel whispered.
"Last I heard, he took a big-arse needle in the arm for ye," Preall commented from where he, too, wielded a knife. "Ye wouldn't catch me doin' that, for ya. I'd a let ye take that one on yer own."
Jamie scowled around the group. "Come on, guys. Michel is hurtin' here." The shifter came over and wrapped his arms around him from behind and rubbed his cheek against Michel's. "Tell us what happened. We'll help ye out."
Bowing his head, Michel sagged against the smaller man. He and his wolf appreciated the support and camaraderie. "I essentially accused Jason of being a fickle party boy who doesn't know what he wants out of life." He cringed at his own words, knowing how brutal that could be, especially considering how sweet, kind, and open the young man had been. "In retrospect, just telling me that we didn't know each other and needed to slow down was … kind."
Preall glared at him. "I'd say so. I would have boxed yer ears for an insult like that, even if it were true."
"Now, he won't talk to me," Michel told them. "How can I fix this if he won't talk to me?"
"It sounds like ye need to ambush him," Laramie stated, not missing a beat as he peeled off the hide and tossed it over his shoulder. He stood and, cocking his head, focused on Michel. "Can ye enlist the aide of Sean? He had to wait months before trying to find his mate, surely he'd understand the strain ye're in."
Michel felt hope blossom in his chest. "Aye. Although, when he had to wait, they hadn't been mated. Carson knows what it's like though, and his mate is friends with Raul. I could go talk to them. Mayhap they'd help, too."
The more he thought about it, the more excited Michel became. He was part of a wolf pack. They were his family. They'd help, wouldn't they?
"That's the spirit," Jamie urged. "Get off yer arse and fight for yer mate."
Michel's wolf snarled at the weaker wolf's mild criticism, but he managed to keep it off his lips. The younger shifter was right. He needed to stop wallowing. He had to prove to Jason that he could keep him happy even though he couldn't accompany him to town, or on dates, or anywhere not pack related … but there were plenty of pack locations he could take Jason to.
He would show his mate that he could please him when they were together … and when they weren't, well, he'd have to trust his mate to return to him. Trust was key in any pairing.
Feeling more confident than he had in days, Michel leaped to his feet. "I gotta go."
"Not so fast," Preall called. "If ye want Jamie to invite ye to his liver and onion supper, ye have to help us finish this."
Michel lifted a brow and turned back to his friends. Spreading his legs and crossing his arms over his chest, he scowled at his two friends. "Oh, really? It's not enough I let ye hunt on me land, now I have to clean yer kill for ye, too?"
"Aye!" Jamie punctuated his word by leaping up onto his back, his naked front flush to Michel's back and his legs wrapping around his waist. From the way Jamie tilted and jerked his body, he was obviously trying to take Michel down.
Rolling his eyes at the playful shifter-aye, Jamie needs a keeper-Michel frowned over his shoulder at his friend and lifted a brow imperiously. "That all ye got, cub?"
Jamie growled, which surprised Michel enough that he didn't notice Laramie running at him from his left … until his friend wrapped huge arms around both him and Jamie and took them both to the ground. Seconds later, Preall howled and leaped on the pile.
Michel let go of his worries, his fears, and his tension, and lost himself wrestling with his best friends. He didn't know how long they rolled on the ground, limbs tangling, chests heaving, as each attempted to pin another while avoiding being tackled and pinned by still someone else.
His cock thickened. Michel jerked away from his friends in alarm. Never, never had he reacted like that, and since he was mated, it shouldn't have happened now.