Evermore, Page 2

  She nodded, things becoming clear to her very fast. “You’re the enforcer.”

  Robbie laughed, catching her attention. He held her stare, the power of his wolf insisting she keep her eyes down. “He’s never taken the title officially. I think what we’ll call Dougal overprotective for now. The little one here is not going to hurt me. And she’s Homer’s mate. So she stays. You can look at me, Camille.” Given his permission, she did as he instructed. He really was an Alpha. She’d never thought to see one again. But only someone with that much authority could have such control over her wolf considering she’d never been particularly submissive. “What is your last name?”

  No one had asked her in so long. She’d been plain Camille or Dresden’s woman. Her last name? Would it mean anything to anyone anymore? “Kendrick. I’m Camille Kendrick.”

  Robbie blinked rapidly and she saw the second it dawned on him, thus answering her unasked question. Yes, he knew who her father had been. “The Alpha who wouldn’t submit.”

  She nodded. “He was not a traitor. Despite what anyone says.” Although the truth was she’d been four when the whole mess had gone down. With only her mother’s word for the specifics, Camille really didn’t know what her father done or why he had made the decisions he had. Her mother’s own honor had also been called into question.

  “Someone fill me in.” Homer’s voice pulled her back to him. His facial features had changed in the minute she’d been talking to Robbie and Dougal. Gone was the soft and in its place the hard line of a man not happy being left out of the loop. What did Homer do when he got angry? How did he punish those who made him mad? She placed her hand over her belly. He’d killed two men threatening her because she was his mate.

  Robbie sucked in a loud breath. “I think we’re going to leave the two of you to get to know each other better. I would like to know who the father of that child is. I’ll leave you to tell me, Homer. Camille, we all have history. Even your even-tempered mate there. You’re welcome here. Homer is not my blood but he is my brother.”

  Goosebumps broke out on her skin and she rubbed them away. How long had it been since she’d heard anyone express any kind of loyalty to anything let alone another werewolf? Was it possible? Could she have miraculously stumbled into a functioning pack? And what would they do when she told them the worst thing about her wasn’t her accused father but the identity of the male who gave her the baby in her belly?

  Dougal followed Robbie out the door. Tatyana paused before she left. “Homer, ten minutes I’m coming back in to give her more medicine, which will make her tired. Whatever you need to say right now, do it fast.”

  Alone with Homer and not feeling out of her mind with fever, Camille had to look down again. Robbie was Alpha but there was no question Homer could own her wolf if he wanted to.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” He tapped at her chin. “Ever. Look up. Please.”

  Camille let herself do as he asked. She hadn’t missed the please. Hearing manners was...charming and she smiled at him. “How did you know I worried you would?”

  Homer sat on the side of her bed, taking her hand in his own. She was so much darker skin toned than he. His skin was pale, although the pads of his fingers were rough, belaying any sense she might have gotten of his being delicate. The male who touched her had worked with his fingers, survived a war, and killed her attackers. She needed to remember who she dealt with and not get romantic notions which might get her killed.

  “I have an excellent nose. During the war, I was part of a special group, an elite team, we learned how to decipher thought.” He paused to find clarification,”—or at least strong emotions—better than most werewolves. I don’t know what your inner dialogue was, that’s impossible. I do know your anxiety levels spiked when I asked my question and your scent changed, speaking of fear. I then deduced you were most likely afraid of violence having just been through what you did. Was I correct?”

  She swallowed. Watching his lips while he spoke could become a fascination. The mating urge was strong. She’d only met him and they didn’t live in a time when she could simply decide to give into his proximity. Control yourself, Camille.

  “I can’t smell quite so well. I know you’re my mate. You remind me of the woods. I can scent fear. Anger. Lust. But only generally. I’m never going to be able to gauge your thoughts.”

  “Good. There’s no reason you should be able to. I’m only capable of it because of my training. Robbie can do it too. That’s why he left so I could talk to you, make you see I’m not a threat to you. Although I can see after the way I killed the men in the street you might think otherwise. And I don’t read minds, Camille. Even if I get a sense of something I’ll try my best to be the wolf my mother raised and leave your private thoughts as your own. You didn’t answer my question. I’m going to assume that was on purpose and I’m not the type to force an answer, not from you anyway.” He smoothed his finger over her knuckle and her mouth went dry. “Are you married to the baby’s father?”

  Homer had rescued her, brought her home, given her medicine and attention. She wouldn’t lie. Not unless she had to. “He never married me. He told me he would care for me. But we knew we weren’t mates. He wanted a child, I was a good choice because my age and health were still on track. I was starving. I made a bad decision. He turned out to be violent and not in the way you were when you saved me. I mean in other ways.” She shuddered at the memory. Being tied to the bed and whipped had been the last straw. “When I could run, I did. That’s when you found me.”

  For a split second, Homer’s wolf showed in his eyes before it disappeared. “Do you know where this male is?”

  “I do.” She let go of his hand and touched the side of his face. Foolish since she wanted distance yet she couldn’t control the impulse. “Are you not an Alpha? What you did, pulling it back, that’s strength.”

  “You saw my wolf.” He sucked in a loud breath. “Of course you did. I lost control. I apologize.” Homer pressed his hand over where hers still stayed on his face. It should be awkward how they touched only it wasn’t.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want an apology. You didn’t frighten me. I’ve never seen anyone gain control so fast before.”

  “In another world I might have been Alpha. My father was—as I gather yours was too?—but I’m not. I follow Robbie. I always will and my wolf is happy to do so. That doesn’t mean I can’t protect you. Where is this male who harmed you? I’ll get rid of him.”

  “Don’t.” She whispered the word. “I won’t make you a killer like that. He doesn’t know I’m here. Likely, he never will. I don’t belong to him.”

  Homer dropped her hand, but only for a second before he touched her belly. Beneath his fingers, the baby kicked and he smiled. “If he comes for you. For either of you. I won’t hesitate.”

  “You’re going to be very intense aren’t you?”

  Whatever he would have said in response, she didn’t get to hear as Tatyana returned with her medicine and Homer stopped speaking. The needle in her arm pinched and within seconds she felt drowsy. Her eyelids became heavy, like an outside force wanted them to close.

  “I’m going to stay here.” Homer laced their fingers again. “You’ll see me when you wake.”

  Chapter Two

  Homer sat next to his mate while she dozed in the sun. She looked younger in sleep, the anxiety which plagued her when she was awake missing from her beautiful face. Over the last two weeks Homer had learned some things about Camille Kendrick, and yet a great deal of who his mate was remained a mystery to him. Dougal thought he should push, Devon though he should give her space, and Robbie kept advising him to simply do as his instincts demanded.

  Trouble was, depending on the moment, Homer wanted to do all three simultaneously. Tatyana would soon start to lessen the drugs in Camille’s system. She’d probably be less tired then, but with somewhere around eight weeks left in her pregnancy she might still need to nap in the middle of the day.
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  Her eyelids fluttered open and she grinned at him before she closed them again. Homer smiled to himself. She wasn’t really awake yet.

  Camille was afraid, but at least over the last two weeks she no longer seemed to direct any of her fear towards him. If she would simply tell him the name of the man who hurt her she would no longer have to worry about him at all. Homer would take care of the bastard and then he and Camille could discover their life together. She’d stubbornly refused to give up the baby’s father’s name. He also didn’t know any more about who her father was and since he had no intention of hearing about her past from anyone but his mate, he waited.

  It was a good thing Homer had always been a patient wolf.

  She liked fruit, sunsets, and the breeze. Most of her life had been spent in cities and she stared at the farmland around them like she’d stepped into a foreign planet. She had nightmares and cried out in her sleep.

  And even though she was having a baby she had no idea what to do with children. Caitlyn and Lena, both of whom had daughters earlier in the year, created the same startled scent from her as the corn fields. She’d eventually turned away with tears in her eyes.

  Her eyes fluttered open again and this time she yawned, stretching her arms over her head while she woke up. “Hi, Homer.”

  He liked hearing her say his name. Other than an occasional joining of their hands or a quick touch to her pregnant belly, he never let himself give in to the almost unbearable need to hold her. He’d seen brief glimpses the scars on her back when Tatyana examined her. His mate had been abused. She would come to him when she was ready—with both information and touch—and he wouldn’t push. Not even an inch.

  Although he had to shift at least once a day and run like a dragon was on his trail to keep from losing his mind. If the Owens brothers got word of it, Homer would never hear the end of it. Grown wolves should not need to shift all the time.

  “I brought you something.” He pulled the apple out of his bag and handed it to her before he sat down next to her. Since she stayed at his house, her scent was everywhere. A constant palpable reminder of his unrequited need for her surrounded him whenever he came home.

  She grinned and sat up straighter. “Thank you so much. Where are you getting all of the fruit you find for me?”

  “Mostly I’ve been trading for it. A favor. Helping around someone’s house, fixing piping.” He shrugged. “This one Tatyana gave me because I helped her procure some chocolate for Robbie’s birthday cake.”

  Camille shook her head. “This place is amazing. I keep expecting to wake up in a back alley and find out I dreamed the whole thing.”

  “Not going to happen. Nothing bad will ever touch you again.”

  Camille gasped, gripping her belly as she jumped to her feet. He rose seconds behind her, his mate’s sudden terror short circuiting his brain. Whatever frightened her had to be eliminated immediately.

  “What is it?”

  Rather than speaking, she pointed to the sky. He followed her direction and immediately knew what the problem was. A green dragon flapped its wings in the distance. He hadn’t paid attention to the creature’s arrival because he wasn’t on guard duty, although he should have simply to reassure her.

  “They’re supposed to be dead.” Her voice cracked.

  “Camille.” Saying her name was deliberate. He wanted her attention on him and not on the sky. “Would you trust me to hold you?”

  Although she usually remained skittish, she came into his arms without hesitation. Good, the mating need pulsed through her too. She needed to remain apart for a while, fine, he understood her reticence, but when it counted her wolf came to him.

  “We have to run, Homer.”

  “No.” He ran his hand up her back gently. “There are a couple of things I need to let you know. The first is that dragon isn’t getting anywhere near here. To begin with, it’s sick. Do you see how its right wing is bent? That’s a sign it’s on its last legs. Not surprising considering the Queen has been gone for nearly a year. But should it get even a little bit closer to us, three wolves who I worked with a long time and trust unquestionably will take it down. In the unlikely event the poor beast did make it through them, Caitlyn would tell it to go away and the dragon would.”

  She froze in his arms. “Because she told it to?”

  “There are some among us who have the ability to control the dragons. They’re called dragon-talkers. Their identity needs to be kept a secret lest someone come and try to use them for the wrong purposes. Caitlyn is one of them.”

  “Amazing.” A shiver rocked through her and he held her closer. “I can’t do anything at all and here is a member of your pack with the ability to talk to dragons.”

  Homer breathed her in. “You do quite a lot actually. You survived and although you won’t tell me the circumstances of how and why, you’re here. You’re not broken inside. You still smell of strength. It’s addictive.” He had to stop talking before he said anything more stupid. Any second more and he’d start spouting off poetry and she’d run away never return. “Caitlyn isn’t the only secret in our pack, Camille. We take care of secrets here.”

  The dragon dove toward the ground and as he watched, exactly as he’d have expected, his three pack mates leapt in the air in their wolf form. The nearly dead beast didn’t stand a chance and the whole non-spectacle was over in a matter of seconds.

  He expected her to pull away. She didn’t and it made him breathe easier. The day pulsed with energy around him. Homer had been born for this female. He would always care for her.

  “And what are your secrets?” She rubbed her forehead against his chest.

  “What family I have left in the world believe me dead. When I joined the elite group of werewolves, faking our death was part of the deal. I can never go back home. And I wouldn’t want to if I could. My father was Alpha of our pack but he wasn’t a good male. He never abused my mother in any physical way, there were never scars on her body. His words, however, they wounded her in places which would never heal. They weren’t mates, just two wolves who saw a future with each other. I think she loved him. He did nothing but cause her pain.”

  Camille raised her head to look at him. “We’re both the children of very bad Alphas.”

  “Made for one another. Although I still know nothing about yours.”

  She furrowed her brow. “You haven’t asked Robbie to tell you yet?”

  “Your secrets should be told by you.”

  “Oh, Homer.” Camille wrapped her arms around him tighter and his cock jumped to life. She must have felt it although she didn’t comment outwardly. Her scent, by contrast, got heated. While she kept her feelings guarded, her body wanted him.

  A first step but not enough. He would have all of her. Body and soul.

  She didn’t look at him when she spoke. “My father is the famous Alpha who refused to relinquish his pack. They branded him a traitor, said he was willing to lie down and let the Dragons destroy us. Called him and our people a coward. I was four. The Generals came for him and they killed him, burned our pack lands to the ground. I remember bits and pieces. For the next four years, before she would be killed in a riot over a loaf of bread, my mother would swear my father supported the war. He wanted to keep his pack intact, to fight together. They never gave him the chance to explain.”

  Her father wasn’t wrong. Destroying the natural order of the packs had all but killed the werewolves before the dragons got the chance. Now wasn’t the time for politics and should haves. She’d shared part of herself. He wanted more.

  “You were eight when she died. That leaves a decade of time. What happened to you?”

  She visibly swallowed. “I did unspeakable things. I stole. Hid. Lied. Used people and eventually ended up in the bed of a man I didn’t love whose child I’m going to have because he promised to feed me. I’m not a worthy mate to you. You were an elite solder. I’m the daughter of a traitor and pretty much a prostitute. I...”

 
; He kissed her because he had to. Homer had promised himself he would not push her, but hearing how she felt about herself, his wolf reacted before he could temper the need. She required comfort and he gave it as instinct drove him to.

  More surprising, she kissed him back. Camille clung to him like he could save her from a storm and meant to. For the rest of his days.

  Inching back, he ran his thumb down her cheek. “Don’t ever doubt I am grateful for any and all decisions you made to stay alive. You’re here. You’re mine. I swear to you I will always see to your needs.”

  “I come to you as a mate pregnant with another man’s baby.”

  It might be too early to say what he had to. Only need didn’t allow him to strategize or play games. “No you don’t. You come to me with my baby. The pup growing strong inside of you will have my name, be my child, and no one will ever tell him or her otherwise. For evermore. I told Robbie the baby is mine and that’s how it will be.”

  Tears streamed down her face and he wiped them away. “I heard you tell the Alpha that. But I couldn’t believe it. Homer, that’s too much. How can you really feel that way? What if you look at the baby and it resembles Derek Dresden?”

  “The dragon drug dealer? Is that the male who hurt you?”

  She closed her eyes. “That just came out. I didn’t mean to tell you.”

  “He won’t get near my baby. Or my mate.” A cold fury settled in his bones. To be angry at Dresden for touching what belonged to Homer was unreasonable. Werewolves often had sexual relations prior to mating. They were naturally passionate creatures. Only anger didn’t always resonate reasonably.