The Alpha's Fight

Chapter 17 - Keep the Nightmares Away

I scooped Taylor up into my arms to carry him upstairs to bed.

"What are you doing?!" He cried out with a laugh, tightening his arms around my neck. "You carrying me off like a princess?"

"You said you were sore. And since I'm the reason," I nuzzled his hairline. "I need to look after you."

He directed me where to go, but passing the living room almost had me stumbling. Nothing much had changed from the night I had seen him balled up on that couch, his knees clutched under his chin, broken. I was the reason his parents were dead. If I had moved faster, both his parents and Graham and Joseph would still be alive.

If Taylor knew, would he hate me?

"Hey, you ok?" His hand softly sweeping across my jaw flinched me back to reality.

"It's nothing," I tried to smile, but the action seemed hollow and phoney.

My enthusiasm waned and all of a sudden I felt out of place, as though I was an interloper in his life. I placed him down on his bed, perching myself on the edge and taking in his bedroom. The room was a deep teal with a few succulents dotting the windowsill. His walls were covered in pictures and artworks of wildlife and plant life, all of it fitting for what I knew of him. Taylor's scent of fresh sweet rain clung in every orifice, my only solace of comfort. Until a pair of warm arms wrapped around my shoulders and chest, pulling me back against his front and nuzzling into my beard. I could tell he wanted to know what was on my mind but he didn't push, settling for running his fingers through my hair.

"When we were in high school, I always used to look out for you around, especially after you moved up to the senior campus," he said after a few moments of silence.

"You did?" My troubling thoughts blew from my mind.

He hummed in confirmation, "whenever a teacher asked for help with something over on your side of the school, I'd volunteer in hopes of seeing you."

All those times I had spent trying to catch a glimpse and he was doing the same. If I had grown a pair and just approached him back then, I could have saved myself a lot of needless fretting.

'Our showers would have been a lot shorter too. Imagine how much water we could have saved,' Hawk harped on, howling in his laughter. He was never going to let me live any of that down.

“Do you remember that day by the oak tree? You probably don’t, it's not as though it was memorable or-” Taylor silenced my rambling, laying his fingers over my mouth.

“I do… I think about that day a lot, how you looked. You always walked about with a scowl on your face, but that day, in that moment, you almost looked happy… and that kinda made me happy,” he pressed a kiss into my beard-covered jaw.

“I was happy,” I turned around in his arms. “I was looking at you.”

The first time our eyes met under the oak tree at school, I knew, on some level, Taylor would eclipse everything else in my life. I had thought about that day constantly, how his hair glowed under the sun, how temptingly soft his skin gleamed and I thought I had been tricked into thinking he had smiled at me. But it was real, he was never my unobtainable fantasy or some mirage that would vanish if I reached out.

My lips connected with his before I even knew it, with a mind of their own, moving of their own accord. I embraced the dream-like trance his touch sent me to, the world vanishing, nonexistent outside our bubble. Parting my lips, I welcomed his tongue and gripped his waist to lower him to the bed beneath us, lying between his legs. I could feel the small smile curling on his lips and his soft moans threatened to send my sanity over the edge. Our bodies moulded so perfectly, every dip and ridge fit together like lost puzzle pieces.

I reluctantly pulled away when my lungs burnt, in need of oxygen, but remained hovering above, braced on my forearms. What confused me was the shake of his head, laughing at whatever was flitting through his mind.

“What?” His laughter was infectious, causing me to join along.

“I feel so dumb for thinking you were straight,” he shook his head. “You know, I had to cancel my English tutoring because I thought you and her were going out.”

‘He thinks we were into Imogen?! Holy f*****g Goddess, this boy is too cute,’ my wolf rolled around my mind, howling in hysterics.

My entire body rumbled in laughter at the notion of Taylor being envious of the little she-wolf.

“It's not funny!” He pouted beneath me. “Every time I saw her, I wanted to throat punch her. I still do. And that other she-wolf I see you with sometimes.”

I pecked his lips, a silent chuckle still rumbling through me, “I can assure you, that there was never anything going on between Imogen and me, or Sloane for that matter… they’re actually the ones involved, they’re mates. If anything, Imogen is like a sister to me."

"Oh," his sweet mouth formed an adorable 'O', a matching blush dusting across his cheeks.

"There isn't anyone you have to be jealous of. But if it makes you feel better, I can give you a little sign," I thought for a second, an idea striking me. I gave him a tiny wink, a small token that only he would know. "Whenever you see it, that's me telling you 'I love you'."

"I like that," he nuzzled against me, his hands sliding up my chest and playing with the ends of my loose hair.

"My sweet blond boy," I whispered against his lips.

He pushed me back, a scowl as equally adorable as his blush replaced his smile. "You are not calling me that."

"What? It's cute and it makes you blush," I peppered his jaw with kisses. "You're real pretty when you blush."

He continued to look unimpressed, his sweet scowl deepening.

"You do smell like fresh rain," my nose trailed down his cheek to his neck, savouring his scent at his marking site where his pheromones were strongest. "Like a drop of dew."

"That's even worse," his breath faltered.

"Really? Even though your scent got all hot?" I inhaled his arousal, my eyes swirling black.

"No it didn't," he continued his protests, despite the fact I could smell otherwise.

My tongue slid over his skin, trailing across his marking spot and drawing a whimper from his lips.

'Dew drop,' I pressed again. He moaned softly, grinding his hips upwards against mine, offering more of his neck to me.

"Yeah, I can tell you hate that," I chuckled, kissing down his chest.

The skin of his pecs was perfection, smooth, sunkissed and tanned from his work under the sun. So many times I had watched him in the summer heat, sweat glistening and shirtless. It had never gone amiss how other she-wolves would stare, driving my own jealousy through the roof, but never once had I seen him pay them any attention; a most obvious sign that I had been blind to.

I moved my tongue over his n****e, flicking the sensitive bud, rolling it between my teeth and repeating with the other. Taylor's back arched into me, pressing his naked torso further and gasping longingly. Following the lines of his abs and his V-lines, I was stopped by the waistband of his sweats.

'I know you said you're still sore, but do you think you'd be up for something else?' My fingertips dipped into the edge of his pants, waiting for his consent and kissing the little patch of skin below his navel.

'Yes,' he trembled, meeting my gaze and attempting to prop himself up on his elbows.

He lifted his hips slightly, so I could slide his pants off and down his legs, freeing his c**k and allowing it to spring right towards me. I knelt up to remove my shirt, wanting as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. Settling back between his legs, I kissed his inner thighs, tracing lazy circles across his hot flesh. The sleepy expression I had been greeted with at the door was long gone. The eyes that greeted me now from Taylor were virtually predatory, clouded with lust, yet vigilant to every movement I made.

He was not about to accept any teasing.

'And we would hate to disappoint our dew drop,' Hawk shivered.

I kissed the tip of his smooth, exposed head, tasting the sweet musky edge of the beads of his precum for the first time.

'Don't be afraid to tell me if it doesn't feel good. I’m not really sure what I’m doing,' I urged, sliding my tongue down his length.

I knew what I liked and that was it. Taylor and I were only at the beginning of discovering ourselves and how to pleasure another.

'What you're doing now feels f*****g amazing,' he fell into the mattress, his hands gripping through my hair.

My mate filled my mouth perfectly, his whole thick shaft sliding along my tongue with ease. His lips pursed, his eyes closed, his entire body undulated with each bob of my head and contraction of my throat. He fought to keep his groans contained, with only the occasional sound escaping.

'You're being awfully quiet. Am I not doing it right?' I played, hollowing my cheeks around his head.

His eyes snapped open and his body convulsed, a long cry erupting from his lips. He came, hard, his hips shuddering against my mouth and I downed every last drop of him. Taylor lay spent on the bed while I stood and shed my pants and underwear. I wasn’t about to try anything else with him, he needed rest. All I wanted was to lie like werewolves did with their mate, with no barriers, just his skin against mine and safely ensconced in my arms.

I pulled his back against my front, spooning him from behind and snuggling my face into his curls, above his neck. My mark would look fantastic placed right on that spot of skin.

“We can’t ever mark each other, can we?” Taylor whispered, reading my mind and tossing to his opposing side to face me.

“Not right now. But we will, one day… and I’ll make you my Luna. I promise,” I dipped my fingers under his chin, sliding along his jaw.

He pressed his lips to mine, a little sloppy with fatigue but still as sweet. I gripped onto him tight, as though it would prevent him from disappearing, stroking down his spine till he fell asleep; which wasn’t long. His breathing levelled out, fanning against my shoulder, and knowing he was safely tucked around me, I quickly joined him.

~~~~

The red field seemed endless, no matter the direction I turned. There was so much blood, coating the air, slick against my skin. I looked down to my hands, the red liquid oozing from an unknown source.

It wasn’t mine.

I didn’t know whose it was, but it wouldn’t stop.

The crack of a whip reverberated around my head like thunder. Cries, gasps, sobs, violently mixed together with no direction or origin, and with no end either.

“Hunter…” a beautiful voice rang above the chaos.

A callous and savage hand gripped my neck, whirling me around…

“No…”

~~~~

I erupted out of the chains keeping me trapped, my arms flailing, trying to remove my binds. My chest heaved and I wiped at my skin, furiously, to shed the blood. The only thing slick against my skin was sweat.

“Hunter?”

I flinched when a set of hands touched my arm, the electricity and calm that surged from the contact grounded me, reminding me where I was. Taylor knelt just in front of me, the bedsheet pooling around his waist, his face contorted in worry.

“I’m fine, it was just some dumb nightmare,” I lied through my teeth and opened up my embrace to him. “Come on, let’s go back to sleep.”

He didn’t move a muscle, his eyes sweeping over my face.

“It didn’t sound dumb, you were shaking. I tried waking you up and you shouted ‘no’.”

My vision blurred for a split second before I blinked it away, a trained response beaten into me from early childhood. The dream was fading quickly, but it had sunk in. I knew its meaning. The blood on my hands, Taylor’s parents, their lives, over because of me.

He needed an answer and he wouldn’t buy an excuse.

‘Just tell him,’ Hawk whimpered. ‘You've had far more embarrassing dreams than this.’

“I’m the reason why your parents are dead,” I blurted out with zero tact.

His mouth bobbed, unsure how to respond to my outburst, and I felt like physically slapping myself.

“I know your father executed them, but I don't blame you for it,” he leant forward to pull me towards him, only, I pushed him away.

“No. The wolf male couple they stood up for… I was meant to get them out of the pack, through that tunnel I showed you. I didn’t move fast enough and they were caught. If I had gotten Graham and Joseph out faster, all of them would be alive, including your parents. But I was too slow, and they’re dead because of me,” I wiped my hand down my face, unable to look Taylor in the eye and preparing myself for his hate.

“You were only doing what a good leader should, helping your pack,” he brushed my cheek, bringing my face up to meet his. “None of it is your fault.”

I was relieved he didn’t hate me, yet the guilt still remained and I doubted that it would ever fade much. I wanted to tell him I had promised his mother I would look out for him, that I would always love him. However, the words caught in my throat, twisting in an excruciating knot. I hated that he never got to say goodbye, that I was the last person to offer comfort to his mother when it should have been Taylor… I had stolen that moment from him.

“That night, I imagined that you came to me,” he slipped his head to my shoulder.

“... I did. I wanted to knock so bad, but figured I’d be the last person you ever wanted to see,” I leant against him.

“I only took that job as a gardener at the pack house in the hopes of seeing you. I almost turned it down. My mom never wanted me near that place ever since the Alpha threatened her,” he sighed, sniffling lightly.

The confusion must have been written all over my face.

“It was ten years ago, I think?” His expression worked, trying to recall. “I really don’t remember much because it all happened so fast and I was scared. I was playing with a boy in the pack house when my mom grabbed me up and the Alpha suddenly came in…”

“... And threw your mother out, threatening to kill you both,” I finished.

“How did you kno-”

“It was me, the boy you were playing with,” I pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear.

Even at such a young age, fate was drawing us together.

That night was such a strange mix in my mind, both vivid and blurred all at once. I was never allowed to play with toys when Nicholas was around and though I remembered playing, I couldn’t remember what it was we were playing, or the pup’s face who played along with me. The only part I could recollect in detail was my father’s anger, his violence to the innocent woman and her pup… the sound and feel of his hand connecting with my cheek and how my stomach twisted in hunger as I cowered under my bed, too scared to ask for anything to eat.

“Hunter,” my mate softly kissed my cheek, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Did your father abuse you growing up? Is that why you have nightmares?”

I nodded, confirming what he probably already knew. It would come as little surprise to anyone given my father’s reputation; a child abuser was the tip of the iceberg of his crimes. There were so many f*****g reasons I had nightmares. I was so used to them, to waking up with a startle and a cold sweat, it was a rare morning that I awoke feeling rested.

Taylor pulled me to lie with him, settling my head against his chest, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm to my ears.

He stroked my forehead, smoothing my hair back. “I’ll try and keep your nightmares away.”