Lynn Hagen Shifters of Mistery 03 Jeremiah's Heart

Shifters of Mystery 3

Jeremiah’s Heart

When Sylvester Condone agrees to go out on a date with Charles

Sinclair, he has no idea it will start a chain of events that will
unravel right before his very eyes.

Jeremiah Edwards finds himself rescuing a human who has been

experimented on by the alpha and doesn't think the man will live
through the night. Throwing caution to the wind, Jeremiah bites

Sylvester to free the human from the all-consuming pain the
experiment has caused.

Though strangers, Jeremiah and Sylvester form a bond they both
treasure. But when the drug starts having adverse effects on

Sylvester, they find the only way to stop the pain is to give
Sylvester the cure—but the cure severs the bond between them.

Never before has this happened, and both men feel a loss so great

neither thinks he will survive. Will fate find a way to reunite them,
or will both men lose what they worked so hard to build?

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal,
Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 36,481 words

JEREMIAH’S HEART

Shifters of Mystery 3

Lynn Hagen

EVERLASTING CLASSIC

MANLOVE

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JEREMIAH’S HEART
Copyright © 2012 by Lynn Hagen
E-book ISBN: 1-61926-669-5

First E-book Publication: April 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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JEREMIAH’S HEART

Shifters of Mystery 3

LYNN HAGEN

Chapter One

“I think this date is over,” Sylvester said sharply as he stood,

tossing his napkin onto the table, and then walked out of the
restaurant. How dare that man! Sylvester was heated as he began to
walk home. Never in his life had anyone talked to him that way.

It was cold as hell outside, but Sylvester just wanted to get away.

He wasn’t even sure why he had agreed to the date in the first place.
Sylvester was a nobody in this town, and Charles Sinclair, a wealthy
business owner, had asked him out. What was Sylvester expecting?

“Sylvester, wait!”
Sylvester kept walking. He didn’t want to hear anything Charles

had to say. The man was an arrogant pig! There was nothing Sylvester
wanted to hear from the man but good-bye. He should have never
agreed to go out with him. That had been a huge mistake. Too bad
Sylvester hadn’t faced that truth when he had said yes. He knew the
man was full of himself, but Sylvester had thought that maybe
Charles was just that way in his business dealings with the people
around town. No, the bastard was that way in his personal life as well.

“Will you wait a minute?” Charles asked as he caught up to

Sylvester and reached out, grabbing his arm as he spun him around.
Sylvester glared up at Charles.

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Hagen

“What?”
He could see the anger flash in Charles’s eyes, and then a veil fell

over them, a syrupy smile appearing. “Now why are you so upset?”

Why? Oh, this man had some nerve. “Because I don’t appreciate

anyone telling me that they know what’s best for me, especially since
we just met. I’m not a twit. I know how to order my own food, and I
most certainly know how to turn someone down who is flirting with
me while I’m on a date. I don’t need you calling me a slut just
because the man found me attractive. Piss off, Charles.” Sylvester
spun on his heel, wanting as much distance as he could get from the
high-handed jackass.

“Now you listen here,” Charles snarled as he grabbed Sylvester

once more, pushing Sylvester’s back into the brick building that they
were standing in front of. Pain shot down his back, making Sylvester
catch a whimper before it fell from his lips. He wasn’t going to show
the man any weakness. From the look on the guy’s face, Charles
would enjoy any begging or whimpering he heard. “I paid good
money to take you out tonight!”

“And what, do you think I’m supposed to show my gratitude on

my knees?” Sylvester shouted in Charles’s face as he tried to pull his
arm free. But damn, Charles was strong. As much as Sylvester yanked
on his arm, he couldn’t break free.

“You have a very crude mouth.” Charles growled low as he

gripped Sylvester’s upper arms, applying painful pressure as his
fingers dug through the coat and into Sylvester’s arms. “Since your
mouth is so foul, you can repay me that way.”

“Get off of me,” Sylvester gritted out between his teeth as he tried

to wrench his arms free. It wasn’t going to happen. Charles’s hold
was too tight.

“And if I don’t?” Charles asked as he pulled Sylvester forward

and then slammed his back into the building once again. “What are
you going to do?”

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sylvester could feel the panic rising inside of him as well as the

pain in his arms and back. He had never been in this type of situation
before. Charles was much larger than him and using that to his
advantage. Sylvester tried to break the deathly grip on his arms, but
Charles’s fingers only dug deeper into his skin.

“Now, you’re going to come back to my place quietly and show

your gratitude for being treated like a king. I’m sure you’re not used
to men splurging on you,” Charles stated calmly, as if he wasn’t
forcing Sylvester.

Sylvester caught the whimper as he stared up into Charles’s cold,

brown eyes. The man meant every word he said. He could see it in the
way Charles’s intense glare was cutting right through him. Sylvester
quickly glanced around, seeing no one on the streets who could help
him. It was colder than hell outside, and not many people had
ventured out.

“Trust me, Sylvester.” Charles’s grin widened, as if he knew what

Sylvester was thinking. “No one is going to come to your aid. It’s just
you and me.”

Sylvester swallowed, his mind racing as he tried to figure a way

out of this. Why had he agreed to go out on a date with Charles in the
first place? He knew the man was high-handed, but he didn’t think he
was this bad.

It was true that Charles Sinclair was a wealthy business owner in

Mayfield County, owning quite a few of the businesses in town. But
did anyone know how truly twisted the man really was? He was about
to force Sylvester back to his home and rape him.

It would have to be rape. There was no way Sylvester was going

to do anything willingly with this man. How had he thought Charles
handsome? He was the ugliest person to Sylvester now. A vile
creature.

Sylvester felt the bile rise in the back of his throat as Charles

began to pull him away from the building, forcing Sylvester straight
to the man’s car. Sylvester couldn’t allow this to happen. He wouldn’t

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Hagen

allow this to happen. He couldn’t be forced into Charles’s car. Pulling
with all his might, Sylvester yanked his arm free. When Charles spun
around to grab him, Sylvester raised his leg with force, connecting his
knee with Charles’s groin.

“You son of a bitch!” Charles groaned as he went down to his

knees, cupping himself.

Sheer terror mounted in Sylvester as he took off, racing down the

street as fast as his legs would carry him. The adrenaline inside of him
was pumping through his system as he cut around a corner, running
down an alley. He had to get away. There was no way Charles was
going to go through with any plans he had for Sylvester.

He would lie down and die first.
What an idiot he had been to say yes. He should have known

better. As he ran for the other side of the alley, the snow started to fall
heavier, almost blinding Sylvester as he ran into a trash can, knocking
it over and nearly losing his balance. He caught himself before he hit
the snow-covered ground and then kept right on running.

A car’s motor revved behind him, as if Charles was gaining on

him, ready to run him over right here in the alley. Sylvester’s heart
was hammering in his chest, making it hard to breathe as he chanced a
glance over his shoulder.

Charles was right behind him in his expensive white car, heading

straight for Sylvester. The man had lost his damn mind! Everyone in
Mayfield County knew Charles thought he was above the law, but hit
and run?

He jumped into an alcove just in time as Charles flew by him at a

high rate of speed. Sylvester didn’t have time to rest as he dodged the
other way, running back the way he had come. There was no way
Charles could turn his car around in the alley. He would have to drive
straight until he cleared the alley and then turn around if he wanted to
get at Sylvester.

The man was crazy as hell!

Jeremiah’s Heart

As Sylvester reached the other end, he saw that Charles had

indeed turned around and was now heading straight for him. Sylvester
swallowed, knowing that he wasn’t going to get away from Charles.
He wasn’t fast enough to outrun a car. He couldn’t understand where
all of Charles’s anger was coming from. Did he take rejection that
badly?

He cut around the corner and hauled ass, running as fast as he

could in the heavy snowstorm. There had to be some way of getting
away. He wasn’t going to give up. Sylvester spotted a black van
heading his way and flagged it down. The streets were becoming
thick with snow, making it hard to run, but the van slowed and then
stopped. Sylvester normally didn’t take rides from strangers, but he
was in a desperate situation. Anything had to be better than facing
Charles and his car of death.

As the side of the van opened, Sylvester looked over his shoulder

to see Charles coming out of the alley, his eyes locked onto Sylvester
with a promise of retribution. Spinning around, Sylvester grabbed the
side of the door and climbed into the van.

The door slammed behind him, sealing him in as he took a deep

breath. He had gotten away. Fuck, he had gotten away. His heart was
pounding as he glanced up at the driver. “Thanks.”

The man smiled and nodded as he turned around and began to

drive. Sylvester glanced around and saw that there were two men
sitting in the back of the van, their eyes studying him closely. A cold,
hard chill gripped him as he glanced back at the driver.

“Who are you running from?” the driver asked as he turned the

corner. Sylvester could see that they were on the road heading out of
town.

“A crazy friend. You can drop me off before you leave town.

Thanks for helping me.” Sylvester had a gut feeling that he needed to
get out of this van. The men sitting in the back was giving him the
creeps.

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Hagen

The driver chuckled softly but kept on driving. Sylvester looked

back at the two men. They were still watching him, their faces grim.
He wasn’t sure flagging down a stranger was such a smart idea. He
might be in just as much trouble as he had been with Charles. But it
was too late for second thoughts. He was inside the van now. As he
reached for the handle of the door, his arms were grabbed and
Sylvester was pulled back.

“Let me go!” He shouted and kicked, wrestling with the man who

had his arms pulled behind his back. It was no use. The guy was even
stronger than Charles. What he thought had been a solution had
turned into a nightmare as the other man in the back punched
Sylvester directly in his eye. His head lolled as his vision blurred.
Sylvester tried to stay focused, fearing the worst if he blacked out.

“What do you want from me?” he asked as he was shoved roughly

into a seat. All sorts of scenarios were playing in his mind, and
Sylvester didn’t like any of them.

“I’m conducting an experiment, and I need a human. You’ll do

just fine,” the driver stated calmly as the wipers sloshed back and
forth, clearing the heavy snowfall from the window. Sylvester’s lungs
froze as his eyes snapped over to the driver.

Human?
Did the man just say human?
“I would suggest you sit back quietly,” the driver warned casually.
Sylvester’s breathing became shallow as he glanced between the

two men sitting on either side of him. What had he just gotten himself
into? He had only wanted to get away from Charles, from being
raped. What did these men have planned for him? Were they going to
kill him? The driver had said human. What kind of experiment was
going to be performed on him?

Sylvester leapt for the door, grabbing the handle and trying his

best to gain his freedom. But once again he was yanked back. “Get off
of me!” He punched, scratched, and kicked like his life depended on
it. And it just might.

Jeremiah’s Heart

“Sedate him!” the driver shouted to the men in the back who were

holding Sylvester down.

“No!” Sylvester cried as he slung his arms and legs around

violently, trying his best to fight off his attackers.

Sylvester could feel the tears running down his face as he

struggled to gain his arm back. One of the men had a tight grip on it,
pulling it out straight as the man produced a needle. He watched in
complete and utter horror, as the needle was jabbed into his skin.
Sylvester howled as the liquid was shot into his arm.

“Please,” he begged once more as his vision started to blur and his

speech began to slur. “Don’t hurt me.”

“Just rest now.”
Sylvester blinked rapidly, trying his best to keep his eyes open.

The two men turned into four, and then six as the drug took effect. He
wasn’t going to get out of this. Sylvester sent up a silent prayer as his
vision went completely black.

* * * *

Sylvester came awake to the feeling of liquid fire racing through

his body. Pain unlike anything he had ever felt before gripped him in
its hold, making it impossible for Sylvester to even think. His throat
felt constricted, and his bones hurt so badly that he wanted to die. He
whimpered and then groaned, rolling over onto his stomach as he
tried to alleviate the pain. Somewhere far away, an echo in his mind,
he heard chains rattling and a howling noise.

“Help me,” he cried out as he rolled over to his back and then

arched, every muscle in his body locking down on him and sending
Sylvester spiraling into the depths of hell. His bones hurt so damn
badly. It felt as though they were trying to stretch, bend, and break.

The pain pulsed inside of him once more, making Sylvester cry

out again. His skin was so hot, so damn hot that it felt as though it
were peeling away from his body. He began to tear at his clothes,

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Hagen

trying his best to get the irritating material off of his skin. He needed
to cool down. His entire body was one big molten heat wave.

He could hear voices, men talking as if they were standing

underwater. Sylvester tried his best to open his eyes, but the pain was
too unbearable. His spine exploded in agony as his nerve endings felt
as though someone were sharpening a razor blade over them. He was
going to die. There was no doubt about it.

He felt his body being lifted and then pressed into something hard,

and then cool air surrounded him. But the cool air wasn’t relieving the
heat of his body. It still burned as if liquid fire were racing through it,
scorching everything in its path. Sylvester could barely register the
fact that he was outside now. He wanted to curl up into the snow in an
attempt to cool his body off.

“Please, please…” He wasn’t sure if it was the same men who had

taken him, but Sylvester didn’t want to die. He was only twenty-
seven. He had so much more living to do. And from what he felt
rolling through his body, his torturers were going to make it as painful
as possible.

“I have you,” he heard a strong voice close to him say. “I won’t

let anyone else hurt you.”

Sylvester shouted, his body growing rigid when another wave of

pain coursed through him. He began to yank at his clothes,
desperately wanting them off of his body. He was hot, burning alive
in his own skin.

Something soft pressed at his back, and Sylvester knew he was

being laid on a bed. He tried to roll over, to escape, but his body was
jerking around so violently that it gave him no control to do anything
other than writhe in pain.

Coolness touched his face as his head jerked around until he was

staring into hard eyes. Sylvester had to be dreaming. There was no
way a fur-covered face was staring back at him. It had to be the drug
the man had forced into him in the van that was creating this strange
vision.

Jeremiah’s Heart

“What is your name, human?”
Sylvester was willing to give the man anything just as long as the

pain stopped. “S–S–Sylvester.” He wrapped his hands around the
man’s arms, pulling at them as the pain renewed. Sylvester wanted to
die, and it felt like he was going to get his wish, but the pain wouldn’t
stop. “P–Please.”

“Do you want to live, Sylvester?”
Sylvester arched his back, letting out a bloodcurdling scream as

his bones began to snap, the pain so overwhelming that his vision
began to fade.

“Answer me. Do you want to live?”
“Yes!” he shouted as his fingernails dug into the man’s arms once

more. The torture of bones snapping and his skin burning was
becoming too much. Sylvester was being torn apart from the inside
out, slowly, agonizingly.

“Then you will live.”
He felt his clothes being removed, and Sylvester was thankful as

he prayed his body would soon cool off. His eyes rolled in his head as
his back arched off of the bed. God, why wouldn’t he die? Sylvester
prayed for death so the pain would leave him.

Something cool was seeping into him, somewhere around his

waist. No, his ass. Sylvester cried as the cold substance was applied to
him. He was finally going to find relief. There was some part of his
body that wasn’t on fire, that didn’t feel as though it were burning
from inside his bones.

Then he felt pressure at his ass, and then his neck. Sylvester was

confused as he jerked, his bones once again cracking, growing it
seemed. “Please, make it stop,” he cried, sobs racking his chest. He
didn’t care what the man did to him, just as long as the agonizing
torture subsided. His body was so sweat soaked that it felt like he was
lying in a tub of water. He could barely see, barely think. His blood
felt as if it were boiling.

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Hagen

Something sharp sliced into his neck, Sylvester could feel it. But

he also felt something entering through the wound in his neck,
something icy, a cool feeling that was chasing away the fire that
threatened to make him go up in flames. It slowly traveled down his
shoulder and then his arm. Sylvester whimpered as the relief was
finally easing into him.

The coolness washed over his shoulders, across his back, and

down his spine, spanning out over his chest and thighs. His other arm
stilled as the heat was driven away. He blinked, feeling the tears fall
down the side of his face as the chill wrapped around his knees and
then continued to travel to his feet.

His brain was the last to finally stop aching, to feel as though it

was no longer too big for his skull. It felt normal once again.
Sylvester wrapped his arms around the man holding him, taking away
his pain, giving him back his life.

“Thank you,” he cried as he clung to the stranger. “Thank you.”
Sylvester stilled when he noticed a deep rasp to his voice, a

gravelly tone that had never been there before. Was that really his
voice? Did the fever and pain strain the muscles in his throat?

“You are mine now, Sylvester, my mate, my life.”
Sylvester threw back his head and howled as his body was thrown

into a pleasure unlike anything he had ever known. Sylvester gasped,
pushing at the man’s shoulders when he heard the sound coming from
his very own chest.

“What’s wrong with me?” he whimpered as he struggled to break

the hold on him.

“Nothing. You are beautiful,” the man whispered into his ear as

his cock thrust deep inside Sylvester. He would take that, take the
pleasure offered him. It felt so much better than the pain, a thousand
times the opposite of what he had just gone through.

Sylvester arched his back and cried out, his system flooding with

so much desire that he felt like he was going to pass out. He craved it,

Jeremiah’s Heart

yearned for it, to the point he almost demanded that the stranger never
stop giving him the rapturous bliss that was now flowing through him.

He began to claw at the man, snap his teeth at him. A feeling of

desperation wrapped around him, demanding he make this person
take him harder, rougher, faster, and with the reckless abandonment
he was feeling at the moment.

“Enough,” the man growled low in his ear. “I will show you the

way, slowly. Breathe, Sylvester. Concentrate and focus.”

It was an impossible feat at the moment, but Sylvester slowly

began to take in long breaths, concentrating on focusing his mind.
Fur, he felt fur.

“What are you?” he asked.
“Open your eyes, Sylvester. You are in another world, another

place. Take it in slowly.”

Sylvester finally forced his eyes open for the first time since

staring the stranger in his light brown eyes. His heart slammed into
his chest when he saw someone—no, something hovering above him,
holding him, its cock buried deep inside of Sylvester.

“Welcome to my world, Sylvester,” the man said as he nuzzled

Sylvester and then leaned back, staring down at him once more.

“Are you one of the men who took me?” Sylvester asked as he lay

there frozen, terrified.

“No,” the man answered, “I am the one who saved you.”
“From the pain?”
“Yes, and a fate far worse than death. You have pretty hazel eyes,

Sylvester.”

That was an odd thing to say considering an animal was fucking

him. Sylvester raised his hand to push the thing away from him when
he noticed that it was no longer his hand, no longer his skin.

“What am I?” he cried as he turned his hand over, studying it.

There were small black claws where his fingernails should be, a coat
of dark blond fur covering his arm. His fingers looked longer than
they normally were, as if he himself had grown.

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Hagen

“Human, but not. You can now shift into a werewolf, Sylvester.

You are one of us now.”

“Us?” He gulped as he lifted his other arm, seeing the same fur

covering it as the one before.

“Take in your features. Absorb this before I continue,” the man

said and then thrust harder into Sylvester.

Sylvester cried out, his fingers digging into the creature’s

shoulders, shame filling him that he was enjoying this so much. It was
wrong. It was so wrong, yet he couldn’t stop the explosions inside his
body from happening. He never wanted it to end, never wanted it to
stop, always wanted this…werewolf inside of him.

“This isn’t right,” he cried. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
The man leaned forward, his nose grazing along Sylvester’s neck.

“Why? This is our other form. There is no shame in having sex in
either our human or werewolf form. Both entities bring us so much
pleasure.”

Sylvester stared at his arms once more and saw that he, too, was in

a werewolf form. He couldn’t wrap his head around that fact, nor
could he stop the beast from taking him. And he didn’t want to.
Sylvester lifted his legs, ignoring the fact that they were covered in
fur as he wrapped them around the man’s hips.

“That’s right, Sylvester. Give yourself to me, to your mate. Show

me that I please you.”

With a cry falling from his lips, Sylvester forgot about

werewolves, kidnappers, the pain, Charles, and everything else. He
once again clawed at the man as the stranger’s cock grew longer,
thicker.

“Who are you?” Sylvester asked as he pulled his hips up higher.
“Jeremiah, sweet one. Your mate. The only one who will enjoy

the pleasure of your body and the only one who will know you this
intimately.”

That was a lot to take in. Sylvester’s mind wasn’t fully rewired

yet, and he was having trouble processing Jeremiah’s words, his

Jeremiah’s Heart

touch, and his voice. None of this seemed real. Maybe he had actually
died from the pain and this was some sort of strange realm he was
lingering in, a place where man became beast, his inner self showing
its true form.

“No one else?” he asked as he glanced up into the most beautiful

light brown eyes he had ever seen.

“No one!” Jeremiah barked the words, his voice growing rougher,

raspier.

Instead of feeling terrified of the creature, of the werewolf,

Sylvester smiled as he laid the palm of his hand against the
werewolf’s face. “No one.” He wasn’t sure what he was declaring
because none of this was real anyway, but his words seemed to soothe
the beast above him.

“Mine,” Jeremiah growled and then turned his head, nipping

Sylvester’s palm.

“Take me, Jeremiah.”
A snarl left Jeremiah’s lips as he reared back and grabbed

Sylvester’s furry hips, pounding into him so hard that Sylvester’s
teeth rattled. Sylvester threw himself into the moment, letting his
body feel the eroticism of what Jeremiah was doing to him. He would
enjoy this strange place before he moved on to wherever he was going
to next.

Grabbing his cock, Sylvester stroked it faster, spinning out of

control as an orgasm like he had never felt before ripped through him,
sending him high into another plane as Jeremiah howled, his thick and
long cock pulsing inside of Sylvester with such force that a twinge of
pain shot through Sylvester.

His hand fell to his side as he floated back down, feeling nothing

but content and sated. Sylvester closed his eyes and sighed,
wondering if the next strange place he awoke in would be this
pleasurable.

20 Lynn

Hagen

Chapter Two

Jeremiah traced the soft lines of Sylvester’s face as he slept. The

transition hadn’t killed the human. That was good. And although
Sylvester seemed a bit out of it last night, Jeremiah was pretty sure
the man knew he shifted into a werewolf—both of them. Sylvester
hadn’t freaked out as badly as Jeremiah thought the man would. He’d
been prepared for it.

“Where am I?” Sylvester asked as he stretched and then yawned,

as if it was just another ordinary morning. One where he didn’t know
where he was, but he woke up in enough strangers’ beds to not be
upset about it. Jeremiah didn’t like the feeling in the pit of his
stomach at that thought. His mate wasn’t going to be waking up in
anyone’s bed but Jeremiah’s from this morning on.

“Safe,” Jeremiah replied as he ran his hands over Sylvester’s soft

blond hair. It only went to the bottom of the man’s neck, but the
strands were thick and extremely soft. Jeremiah could see himself
spending hours just running his hands through it.

“And where would safe be?” Sylvester asked in a more alert tone.

He glanced over his shoulder, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

Jeremiah was glad to see the man had at least an ounce of self-

preservation, even though it was too late for that. After what had
happened to Sylvester, Jeremiah was going to be hard-pressed to let
the man out of his sight.

“You’re in Mystery, Sylvester. What do you remember about last

night?” Jeremiah shifted into a more comfortable position, resting his
back against the headboard as he glanced down at his mate.

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sylvester looked to be mulling things over in his head and then

shook it. “Plenty, but I don’t think some of it was reality. It must have
been the drugs.”

Jeremiah sighed. Sylvester was in for a rude awakening if he

thought drugs had been the factor in him seeing werewolves. Maybe
Sylvester’s freak-out session would still happen. “What do you think
you saw?”

Sylvester sat up, the sheets pooling in his lap as he ran his hands

through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Jeremiah had an urge
to reach over and brush it back himself, but now that Sylvester was
fully awake, the man might not welcome the touch.

“I remember being fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy?”
Sylvester nodded. “Yeah, like I was a dog. Were you with me last

night?” he asked as he rested his hands in his lap.

“I was.”
“Then you were a dog, too.” Sylvester began to chew on his

bottom lip. “I was in trouble, deep trouble, and ran. I needed help.
There was this van almost parked in the middle of the street. When I
ran toward it, the side door opened. But I found out that the men
inside the van were ten times worse than the one I was running from.”

“You jumped into a stranger’s van?” Jeremiah barely succeeded in

keeping the heat out of his voice. Just how careless was his mate? He
wasn’t getting a good feeling from the picture Sylvester was painting.
No, the picture was starting to look very grim. The man didn’t seem
to have even that ounce of self-preservation Jeremiah had just given
him credit for.

“It was better than being raped.”
“Raped?” Jeremiah was going to have heart failure by the time his

mate completed the painting, he just knew it.

“Yeah. Charles isn’t a very nice man. He thinks paying for dinner

entitles him to certain privileges.” Sylvester frowned and then lifted

22 Lynn

Hagen

the sheet, staring underneath at his naked form and then over at
Jeremiah. “Did you buy me dinner?”

Cocking his head, Jeremiah studied his mate, closely. “Did I

what?”

“Buy me dinner. It’s obvious we had sex. I just wanted to know if

I put out after you fed me.”

This was unreal. Jeremiah had never met anyone like Sylvester in

all the years he had been alive. The man was sitting here talking as if
it weren’t anything new to him, calmly, matter-of-factly. “No,”
Jeremiah said slowly.

“Damn, I’m cheap,” Sylvester said as he pushed the sheets from

his lap and slid from the bed. “Can you tell me where I tossed my
clothes?”

Running his index and middle finger over his chin, Jeremiah

wondered if maybe he wasn’t still asleep. “They were shredded.”

“That good, huh?” Sylvester grinned as he wrapped the sheet

around him like a toga. “Too bad I don’t remember.”

“Sylvester, are you okay?” Jeremiah sat up straighter, noticing the

blank look in the man’s eyes. It was as if Sylvester wasn’t fully
focused. His eyes jerked around, but settling on nothing in particular.
His stomach knotted as his mate began to poke his finger into the
mattress. What in the hell was he doing?

“Sure. I’m fine. This is just a strange place. I would have thought

the next place I woke up in wouldn’t be so”—Sylvester scratched his
head as he glanced around the room—“plain.”

“What do you mean the next place?” Jeremiah asked as he slipped

from the bed. He moved around to the other side slowly, cautiously.
He could see a breakdown coming. It was written all over Sylvester’s
face. His mate’s movements were agitated, jerky.

“I died, right? I mean, I had to have from the pain I went through

last night. No one could survive something like that. So when I turned
into a dog, that was the first strange place my spirit visited.”

Jeremiah’s Heart

Jeremiah stood there stunned. He wasn’t sure what to say or even

think. His mate really thought he was dead. It was in his eyes.
“Sylvester,” Jeremiah said calmly, in a comforting tone, trying his
best to gain his mate’s attention, “you’re not dead, babe.”

Sylvester took a deep and unsteady breath as he stepped back.

“But, I have to be. There is no way I was a dog.” Confusion clouded
his eyes as he looked up at Jeremiah. “How was I a dog?”

Jeremiah reached out and clutched Sylvester’s hand. “A werewolf,

not a dog.”

Sylvester shook his head, looking down at Jeremiah’s hand in his.

“That can’t be. People don’t change into animals. Well, not
technically. The men last night acted like animals, though.”

As despondent as his mate was, the corner of Jeremiah’s lip

tugged into a smile. Sylvester’s fingers gripped Jeremiah’s hand
tighter, as he gave a choked, desperate laugh. “It was real, wasn’t it? I
was a werewolf last night. I mean, not many people can say that they
walked through the fires of hell only to come out on the other side a
changed man. And I mean that literally, not metaphorically. I howled,
actually howled. I remember that. You—”

“Sylvester, breathe,” Jeremiah said as he laid his hand on

Sylvester’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “You have to
breathe.”

“What did they do to me?” Sylvester asked hysterically.
“I need you to calm down, Sylvester, and breathe for me, love. I’ll

explain it all, but you have to relax.”

“I’m relaxed. I’m calm. I can take what you have to say.”

Sylvester shot his words out in rapid succession as he ran his other
hand over his head. “Do you have anything to drink around here?”

“Would you like some juice or water?”
“Alcohol, and lots of it, please.”
Jeremiah sighed as he guided Sylvester toward the bed. “I don’t

think that’s a good idea right now. You need to keep a clear head.”

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“Why?” Sylvester asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing

their entwined hands with his free hand and then shook them in front
of him. “I changed into a wolf. If that isn’t a cause to drink, then what
is?”

Jeremiah gently pulled his hand free, laying it on Sylvester’s knee.

His mate needed the contact, needing the grounding as he fell apart.
Jeremiah turned and faced him, keeping his voice even and low. “I am
a vârcolac. That’s a werewolf. A lycan. My people have been around
for many, many years. A vârcolac can bite a human and change him
or her into a werewolf. Last night, one of the vârcolac leaders stole a
friend of mine’s blood and mixed it with something, something
unknown, and then injected you. That’s why you—”

“Felt like I was dying,” Sylvester finished for Jeremiah. “What

did he inject into me, besides werewolf blood?”

Jeremiah shook his head, wishing he could give Sylvester the

answer he was looking for. “I don’t know. None of us know. Martin
called it an experiment.”

“Martin?”
“The leader who did this to you. He is out to convert as many

humans as possible, but what he did to you is unheard of.”

Sylvester’s eyes widened, and then he stood, backing away from

Jeremiah with abject fear in his eyes. “Get it out of me. Take it away.
I don’t want to bite anyone!”

Jeremiah was on his feet in seconds, grabbing Sylvester and

pulling the man into his arms, swiping his hands through his mate’s
hair. “You can’t convert anyone, love. Only a true vârcolac can do
that. But I’m afraid what has been done to you is permanent. The
DNA is now fused with yours. There is no going back.” He hated
telling Sylvester something his mate didn’t want to hear. “Being a
werewolf isn’t so bad.”

Sylvester remained quiet as Jeremiah held him. Jeremiah knew

Sylvester was taking the time to absorb everything that he had just
been told. It was a lot for anyone to take in, but especially for a

Jeremiah’s Heart

human who had never even heard of werewolves. But Sylvester
wasn’t human any longer. He was one of them, a werewolf, and it was
Jeremiah’s job to acclimate Sylvester to his new life.

“Am I going to bark at passing cars?” Sylvester asked into

Jeremiah’s chest.

Jeremiah threw his head back and laughed. It was the funniest

damn thing he had ever heard. The laugh sounded foreign to him,
something he didn’t do a lot, but somehow Sylvester made him want
to smile.

“No.” He chuckled. “You’re the same person you were before,

with a few perks.”

“Like what?” his mate asked as he pulled slightly away, staring up

at Jeremiah with hope in his hazel eyes.

“Once you shift, there is this feeling of incredible freedom that

races through your blood like liquid fire. It’s exhilarating. You’ll also
be taller in your werewolf form, able to do things that your human
form won’t allow. You’re faster, stronger, and you can hear things
that would be missed otherwise if you were just human.”

Sylvester nodded as he listened, but Jeremiah could tell the man

didn’t really believe any of what he was saying. It would take time.
He knew this. Jeremiah growled when he heard a knock on his
bedroom door. He was a newly mated werewolf. The men in this
house knew that. No one should be disturbing him.

As his growl grew, so did Sylvester’s eyes. Jeremiah cleared his

throat. He couldn’t blame the man. Jeremiah was pissier than a
wildcat with a thorn in his paw, and that was on his good days. He
wasn’t the easiest person to get along with.

But for Sylvester, he wouldn’t kill whoever was on the other side

of the door, just maim them. He ran his fingers under Sylvester’s chin,
winking at him before he crossed the room and swung the door open,
a heavy scowl on his face.

26 Lynn

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“Good morning, sunshine,” Pat sang as he stood there with a

breakfast tray in his hands. “I thought you two might need some
nourishment if you’re going to be fucking all day.”

Pat pushed past Jeremiah and set the tray on the dresser, rounding

it to smile at Sylvester. “Hello.”

Jeremiah counted to two, because that was all the patience he had,

and then grabbed Pat by the arm, hauling him toward the door. “We
aren’t exactly dressed for company, Pat.”

Pat chuckled as he knocked Jeremiah’s grip from his arm. “Like I

haven’t seen naked men before. Trust, me, J. You don’t have anything
I haven’t seen plenty of times.”

“Five seconds, Pat,” Jeremiah warned. Pat hadn’t ever seen his

mate naked, and he wasn’t going to allow him the opportunity to
either.

“I’m going, Mr. Pissy. Just make sure you’re nice to your mate or

I’ll kick your ass, buddy.”

Jeremiah slammed the door in Pat’s face. Moving away from the

door, Jeremiah saw Sylvester sitting on the side of the bed watching
him, a disapproving look in his eyes. Great, everyone’s a critic.
“What?”

“That wasn’t very nice. He did bring us breakfast,” his mate

pointed out before rising and walking over to the tray of food.
Jeremiah could see that his problems had only just begun.

“I’m not a very nice man,” he grumbled and then saw the dark

blond brow of his mate’s arch. “Not to other people anyway. You’re
safe.”

“Gee, thanks,” Sylvester replied as he grabbed one of the plates

from the tray and sat down on the small rug in front of Jeremiah’s
dresser. He could tell the man wanted to say more, but instead, he
shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Jeremiah grabbed the other plate and sat on the bed, eating, but

also sneaking glimpses at Sylvester, making sure the man wasn’t
going to go into nuclear meltdown again. It hadn’t gone so bad.

Jeremiah’s Heart

Jeremiah thought he would have to peel Sylvester from the ceiling,
but Sylvester had stuttered and burned out before he had gotten fully
revved up.

Thank goodness for that.
“So now what do I do?” Sylvester asked as he bit into a piece of

bacon. “I mean about living arrangements, since I’m one of you guys
as you say.”

“You live here,” Jeremiah answered as he grabbed his glass of

orange juice from the bedside. “With me,” he added before taking a
swallow. Jeremiah watched Sylvester’s reaction closely.

“No offense, but I don’t even know you.” Sylvester pointed out as

he waved a hand down his body, “From our naked state, we had sex.
That’s a given, but living together is a little more in depth. I’m not
sure I’m ready for that,” Sylvester finished before eating again.

“You’re not going home,” Jeremiah stated as he stood from the

bed he was sitting on. “If you want to retrieve any of your belongings,
fine. There are men here who will do that for you.” He moved closer
to Sylvester, making sure he was heard. “But you are not going
home.”

“We’ll see,” Sylvester challenged in an amused tone as he ate the

last of the food on his plate.

Jeremiah froze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means one man tried to force me to his bed. One man

succeeded in forcing drugs into me. And now you are trying to force
me to stay here. I won’t be here against my will, Jeremiah. It would
have been different if you had asked…nicely.”

“Okay, I’m asking nicely.”
“No, you’re not.”
Jeremiah was losing his patience. Sylvester was unlike anyone he

had ever run across before, and he found that he didn’t like it. One
stubborn person in this bedroom was enough. But the man did have a
point. He didn’t want to force his mate to do anything. Jeremiah
wanted him willingly or not at all. But his safety was on the line, and

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he just couldn’t allow the man to go wandering around, especially
living by himself.

“You just named all the reasons why you shouldn’t be out there

on your own, Sylvester. You don’t have to stay in this bedroom, but
I’m asking you…nicely, not to go outside. Not until we can figure out
what’s going on.”

“That’s better,” Sylvester said as he stood and placed his plate

back on the tray. “Much better.”

Jeremiah wasn’t sure if Sylvester was messing with him or not,

but the man had made Jeremiah heel pretty damn quickly. And for
some odd reason, he liked that. It was refreshing to him for his mate
to not run behind him and obey mindlessly. He must be as nutty as his
mate, but, yeah, he liked it.

“Can I get something to wear, or am I going to be showing you

and everyone in this house my goodies?”

“No one sees but me!” Jeremiah replied furiously. Sylvester

arched a brow, and Jeremiah had to fight not to shout his next reply.
“In the drawer.”

Sylvester turned his back on Jeremiah as he opened the dresser

drawer, shuffling through his belongings until he found something
loose to wear. It was a shame his mate was covering his body up, but
Jeremiah would have to kill everyone in the house if they saw
Sylvester naked, and he liked Terror.

“Okay, I’m ready to face the world,” Sylvester announced.
Jeremiah studied the man in his clothes, and a smile lifted the side

of his mouth. “That you are.” The clothes hung loosely on Sylvester,
but the important parts were well covered. Jeremiah grabbed the tray
and opened the door, Terror standing there barking her head off.

“Nice dog,” Sylvester said as he bent in front of the Chihuahua

and began to scratch behind her ears. Terror was eating the attention
up. Her tongue hung out the side of her mouth, and it looked like her
eyes were rolling to the back of her head.

Jeremiah’s Heart

Jeremiah knew how she felt. That was exactly how he had reacted

when he had Sylvester under him last night. “This way,” he said as he
moved past his mate and headed down the stairs. Sylvester followed,
Terror tagging behind them.

“Good morning,” William said from the bottom of the steps.

“How do you feel?”

Jeremiah’s brow rose. William had never asked him that before.

As a matter of fact, William had wanted to off Jeremiah his first night
here.

“Fine.”
William rolled his eyes and shooed Jeremiah away. “Not you,

him.” He pointed at his mate.

“His name is Sylvester,” Sylvester replied. “I’m fine. And you?”
William chuckled. “I like him.”
Jeremiah took the tray into the kitchen and set it on the counter.

He listened to William and Sylvester talk, enjoying the sound of his
mate’s voice. It was like velvet rubbing up Jeremiah’s spine, soft,
smooth, and comforting.

Damn, he really was coming unraveled.
“How is he?” Sage, their old alpha’s son, asked as he walked into

the kitchen. Sage was disowned when his father found out Sage was
gay. Sage had bought this small town, and his childhood friends had
followed not too long after. Sage was Jeremiah’s best friend, and
Jeremiah treasured their friendship. He just never admitted that out
loud.

“Fine, I think.” Jeremiah was still trying to figure Sylvester out.

The man was hot one minute and then cold the next. Well, warm, not
cold. But he was hard to get a read on.

“Have you explained everything to him?”
Jeremiah nodded. “And he thought he was dead. He woke up this

morning thinking he was in a parallel universe or something.”

Sage chuckled. “That sounds mild compared to how he should be

right now.” Sage turned toward the kitchen door and then looked back

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at Jeremiah. “He’s a strong man if he’s not going insane right now.
Especially after everything he’s been through.”

And Sage didn’t even know about Sylvester running from

someone who wanted to rape him. If Jeremiah found out who it was,
he was going to pay that man a special visit. His claws wanted to
unsheathe as Jeremiah thought about what that person had put his
mate through.

“There’s more.” Sage didn’t ask, he stated.
“Some guy was after my mate to rape him. Sylvester ran from

him. He saw a van and ran to it, getting inside without knowing what
he was getting himself into. That’s how he ended up with your
father.” It still pissed Jeremiah off that Sylvester had used a stranger
as his option to get away from his attacker. He knew Sylvester was
probably filled with fear, but a stranger’s van?

“He ran into a van?” Sage asked in astonishment.
It sounded even worse hearing someone else say it out loud.

“Yeah,” Jeremiah said as he sighed. “Sylvester is…different.”

Sage smiled, the expression understanding. “You two will adapt to

each other. Give it time.”

Jeremiah changed the subject. He didn’t like standing there

discussing his mate’s mental health. “Have you heard anything else
about your father?”

“No,” Sage said as he leaned into the counter with one hip. “But

I’d love to know what he’s up to. Something tells me we broke up his
party before he was finished with Sylvester.”

Jeremiah had the same gut feeling.
“Just keep an eye on Sylvester. I don’t want daddy dearest picking

up where he left off.” Sage stepped out of the kitchen, leaving
Jeremiah even more frightened than he already was that Martin would
get his hands on Sylvester again.

What if the man wasn’t done with his mate? What else could he

possibly do to him? He’d already forced the change onto the man,
making him not only into a werewolf, but not even giving him a

Jeremiah’s Heart

month to adjust to the idea before his first shift. No, Martin had used
that drug to force everything in one night, and damn near killed
Sylvester in the process to gain whatever it was he was after.

If the man was out to just convert humans, the alpha would just

bite them. Martin was up to something else, and Jeremiah was going
to find out what, because he wasn’t going to have Sylvester used in
his experiment again.

Jeremiah’s stomach turned sharply as he thought about his mate at

the hands of the alpha. Whatever it took, he was going to make sure
that never happened.

32 Lynn

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Chapter Three

Sylvester glanced around the house. It was pretty damn big for a

farmhouse. But then again, he lived in Mayfield County, home of the
apartments above the businesses. A person had to drive for miles to
get to homes, and Sylvester never did. He had even grown up in one
of the apartments, so seeing the space around him was fabulous.

His apartment could fit in the living room alone. It was spacious,

although it looked like it still needed some work done to it. There
were bags of plaster and tools sitting off in one corner, which told
Sylvester that the work was still in progress.

He wandered in the dining room next, seeing a large table that fit

quite a few chairs around the polished wood. A large china cabinet sat
on one side, and a side table on the other. This room looked as though
it were complete, decorated in earth tones.

Sylvester walked back into the hallway and climbed the steps,

noticing how the balusters looked brand-new. Even many of the
treads looked like they had been recently replaced. His hand grazed
up the banister as he walked up. On the second floor, he noticed seven
bedrooms. Not that he was being nosy or anything, but most of the
doors were open. But he thought it odd that there was only one
bathroom.

Seven bedrooms and only one bathroom? Who the hell built this

place? He shook his head as he walked back into the bedroom that he
had shared with Jeremiah, blushing when he looked at the bed.

No matter what he told Jeremiah, he definitely remembered last

night. How could he not? The man, er, werewolf had given him the

Jeremiah’s Heart

best sex of his life. And he had been so busy with pain that he had
missed a lot of it. What a shame.

But the parts he did remember had his cock twitching in his pants.

The man was magnificent in bed, a true master in every sense of the
word. He wouldn’t mind having another go at it.

Now that he wasn’t writhing in pain.
The bed sat high off of the floor, but not too high to where

Sylvester couldn’t get up on it without assistance. It was a four-poster
bed. Sylvester had never seen one up close before. He ran his hands
over the rich, dark wood, feeling how smooth and polished it was to
the touch. There were even thin wisps of curtains on either side,
pulled back and clasped. The bedding was a mixture of cream and
dark green. Jeremiah liked his comfort. That was a given looking at
the bed.

His head turned, his eyes looking over his shoulder as he felt

someone watching him. Jeremiah was standing in the doorway, silent,
observing.

“I see you like my bed.” There was a hint of humor in his voice,

as if he, too, was remembering last night. Sylvester’s face heated as
he turned back around. As brave as he liked to act, Jeremiah shook
him up inside. And remembering last night wasn’t helping.

“It’s a nice bed,” he replied as he took a seat on it, feeling

exhausted all of a sudden. After everything that had happened to him,
and everything that he had gone through, one night of rest just didn’t
seem enough. He felt weary, bone tired.

Sylvester pulled back the covers and crawled underneath the soft

blankets, turning over and giving Jeremiah his back. Maybe after he
woke up he could go get some things from his apartment, like some
clothes that actually fit. Not that he minded wearing Jeremiah’s. They
were from the man’s drawer, which meant they were clean, but they
still held a hint of Jeremiah in them.

The bed dipped, and Sylvester felt a hand on his shoulder. He

didn’t want to talk right now, or think. The adrenaline of waking up in

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Hagen

a new place and exploring had worn off, yesterday’s events coming
front and center in his mind.

And he didn’t want to think about them right now.
All he wanted to do was sleep.
“I’m not trying to force you to do anything, Sylvester. But it’s not

safe out there right now. I don’t want you looking at it that way,”
Jeremiah said in a gentler tone compared to the way he had spoken
earlier.

“I just don’t understand why I became a target last night for every

crazy person who was out there.” Sylvester pulled the blanket tighter
under his chin, feeling as though the cold were seeping into his skin
just from the memories of what had happened to him. It had been the
worst night of his life, and the scariest.

Sylvester lay there wondering how he had survived it.
His body ached at the remembrance of the excruciating pain.
“I know,” Jeremiah replied. “But you’re here now, in a house

filled with werewolves that will do whatever it takes to protect you,
especially me. Get some sleep.”

Sylvester could feel the blanket being pulled around his shoulders

and then the sound of the bedroom door being closed. He closed his
eyes, but the images seemed to come at him sharper when he did this.
Sylvester saw Charles’s cold, calculating eyes and felt his cruel
fingers wrapped around his arm, slamming him into that brick wall.
Sylvester balled up tighter, his arm aching where Charles had touched
him.

Sylvester never wanted to see that man again in life.
The images shifted, and Sylvester now saw the van. It was sitting

there in the wintery streets by itself, a beacon of welcomed warmth as
if it were a safe refuge. He smashed his eyes closed as he was forced
to that filthy floor, forced to be injected as he heard himself
screaming, begging not to be hurt.

Jeremiah’s Heart

Those cold blue eyes of the driver were mocking him, laughing at

him as the liquid burned inside of him. Never had he seen eyes so
void of compassion, or filled with such loathing, in his life.

Sylvester turned over, keeping the blankets close as he battled to

get some sleep. He was tired, so very tired, but his mind wouldn’t
shut down. It kept reminding of him of what had taken place, of the
horrors he had lived through.

And the pain. He could still feel the dull ache as if the pain hadn’t

truly gone away yet…or was starting again. Sylvester trembled at the
thought of going through that again. Enduring a pain so horrific, so
gut-wrenching that he had prayed to die.

Just one simple dinner and his life had changed forever. Had he

not agreed to go out with Charles, he wouldn’t have ended up in that
van. He had no clue what he was going to do now, or what his future
held.

But Sylvester swore as he lay there that if he ever saw those blue

eyes again, they would become lifeless shortly afterward.

* * * *

Jeremiah glanced around Sylvester’s apartment, taking in the

small place as he walked down the short hallway, stepping into what
looked to be Sylvester’s bedroom. “Do you need help?”

Jeremiah took in Sylvester’s dark blond hair and hazel eyes as the

man looked over his shoulder. The length of his hair was long enough
for Jeremiah to sink his fingers into and pull on as he fucked him
hard. And he had the other night. His fingers still tingled as he
remembered. Sylvester had cried out, begging Jeremiah to pull harder
as his cock worked Sylvester’s body like magic.

“I think I have what I need. Although, I just went shopping, and it

would be a waste to leave all that food behind.” Sylvester turned back
around, but not before Jeremiah saw the lost look in Sylvester’s eyes.

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Jeremiah walked into the bedroom, grabbing Sylvester’s wrist and

turning him around. “Scared?”

Sylvester nodded as he chewed his bottom lip. “Being at your

house just hanging out is one thing. But now I’m about to move in,
change everything about my life. It feels like everything is happening
so fast, Jeremiah.”

“You’re safe.” Jeremiah’s voice lowered. He kept the tone soft to

comfort his mate. “Nothing will happen to you, and you can take as
long as you need to adjust.” He wasn’t going to rush his mate and
make him feel pressured. They would go slow if that was what
Sylvester wanted. Although Jeremiah could still think about the one
night they shared together. He had that much for the time being.

“Thanks.” Sylvester gave him a wavering smile as he pulled his

wrist free and zipped his bag. “I’m ready.”

Jeremiah grabbed the suitcase on the bed as Sylvester grabbed the

duffel bag. They walked out of the bedroom and back into the living
room. “Sylvester has some food he wants to bring.”

“I’ll get it,” Monterey said as he and Mercy took off into the

kitchen. Jeremiah rolled his eyes. Those two could eat a town clean in
a day.

Jeremiah led Sylvester down to the truck he had driven, storing

his suitcase behind the driver’s seat. He caught Sylvester standing on
the passenger’s side, scanning the streets before he opened the door
and tossed his bag behind his seat. Jeremiah looked as well, only
seeing a handful of people out in this weather.

He glanced back over at Sylvester to see him quickly climb into

the truck. When Jeremiah looked back over the town, he saw a man
standing across the street, watching them intently. As soon as the man
saw Jeremiah watching him, he quickly hurried away.

“Friend of yours?” Jeremiah asked as he climbed into the driver’s

side and slammed the door closed. He didn’t like anyone staring at his
mate, and he didn’t like thinking that maybe it was some sort of old

Jeremiah’s Heart

lover. Because the man better be an old lover. The way Sylvester had
stared at the man let Jeremiah know that they knew each other.

“No,” Sylvester said quickly as he snapped his belt into place.

“Ready?”

Jeremiah didn’t like the feeling he was getting or the quick brush-

off response. If he needed to take care of that man on the street, he
wanted to know. He didn’t share. It was that simple. Werewolves
were very territorial when it came to their mates, and Jeremiah was no
exception. He started the truck, glancing at Sylvester once more
before pulling away from the curb.

* * * *

“I got the strangest phone call,” Sheriff Samuel Reese said as he

tipped his hat back, hooking his thumbs into the front pockets of his
uniform pants. “Someone said that Sylvester Condone was being
taken against his will by five large men. I wonder who the caller was
talking about?” There was a slight smile lifting the side of Sam’s lips
as he stared up at Sage.

Sage gave a tight shrug as Monterey brought the last box of food

down from Sylvester’s apartment. Sam might have found the situation
amusing, but Sage found it irritating. Who the hell would be watching
them that closely to make a phone call to the sheriff? His father?

He knew that Jeremiah hadn’t forced Sylvester from his home.

But even if Sylvester hadn’t agreed to live with them, Sage wasn’t
taking any chances on Sylvester staying behind and Martin finding
him. He wasn’t going to watch Jeremiah lose his control because his
mate had stayed either.

“Haven’t a clue,” he responded, playing along with the sheriff’s

little game for fuck’s sake. “You can tell the caller to mind his own
damn business. Sylvester has decided to move in with us, of his own
free will.”

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Sam leaned into the wall, resting his shoulder against the brick as

he glanced at the men loading the truck. “You know I had to come
over here to investigate, Sage. I’m just doing my job, so there is no
need to get pissy with me.”

Sage knew this, but he couldn’t help the anger that surged inside

of him. His father was still out there somewhere, and there was no
telling who was helping the man. Sage wouldn’t put it past his father
to lie and deceive to get what he wanted, even to the point of enlisting
humans.

Money talked, after all.
He didn’t trust anyone outside his home, and that included Sheriff

Samuel Reese. The man seemed nice enough, but Sage wasn’t
jeopardizing his mate or his pack…oh hell.

Did he just think that?
This was not his pack.
They were just a bunch of guys living together with a desire to

rebuild a town and call it home. As much as the men complained that
he was an alpha and should act like it, Sage refused to take the role.
He wanted a pack-free town. He had seen what power did to a person,
and he refused to end up like his father.

“I know,” Sage replied as Mercy gave him a slight nod, telling

Sage that they were done and ready to roll out. “But as I said,
Sylvester left of his own free will. You’re welcome to come by and
talk to him if that’ll make you feel better.”

Sam stood up straight from the wall, nodding toward Sage. “I

think I’ll stop by tomorrow for a visit. Have a nice night.” Sam
walked away, heading back to his patrol car.

Sage knew the reason Sam wanted to come by, and it wasn’t to

talk to Sylvester. Sam was just as hot for Pat as Pat was for him. The
only difference was that Sam didn’t try and hide it. Unlike a werewolf
he knew at home.

Sage climbed into the truck, Mercy riding with him while York

rode with Monterey.

Jeremiah’s Heart

“Everything okay?” Mercy asked as he slouched back, staring off

into the streets as Sage drove home.

“Someone called the sheriff to report that Sylvester was being

taken against his will.” Sage would really like to know who that
someone could be. He knew Sam wasn’t going to tell him, but it still
pissed him off to know that they were being watched like that. He had
a feeling it wasn’t a concerned citizen.

“Is that right?” Mercy said lazily as he ran his index finger over

the stubble on his jaw. “That was mighty nice of them.” A wicked
grin crossed Mercy’s face, but his eyes were as cold as the air outside
the truck.

“I’m not sure who it was, but my gut tells me to keep an eye on

Mystery. Something doesn’t smell right.” And it didn’t. As soon as
Sage saw the sheriff pull up his hairs stood on edge. He had sensed
someone watching them when the six of them had entered the
apartment building. Sage had brushed it off as nosy neighbors, but
now he knew differently.

If his father was watching them, dogging their every move, then

as much as William was going to pitch a bitch, no converted human
was going to leave the house. Mates were too precious, and
werewolves were too possessive to let anything happen to them. He
just groaned at the headache William was going to give him over this.

* * * *

Sylvester sat on the couch, watching Jeremiah’s strong back as the

man fixed the drywall. Some of the other men had knocked a hole
into the wall while goofing around. Why Jeremiah had to fix it,
Sylvester hadn’t figured that out yet.

As he watched golden muscles flex and stretch, teasing his very

eyes, Sylvester couldn’t help but lick his lips in want. He remembered
the night vividly from a few days ago. It was so clear in his mind that

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Sylvester could still feel Jeremiah’s gentle hands all over his body,
taking him to heights he had never dreamt existed.

But that had been a few nights ago, and Jeremiah hadn’t slept with

Sylvester since, not in a sexual way. They shared a bed, but the man
barely acknowledged his existence. Sylvester knew he was in a lot of
pain that night, but once the pain had subsided, he didn’t think he
sucked that badly in bed, not enough for Jeremiah to give him the
cold shoulder since then.

“Hey, Sylvester, can you give me a hand in the kitchen?” Pat

shouted from down the hallway.

Sylvester really didn’t want to take his eyes off of the man making

his cock so hard it hurt, but he couldn’t think of a reason to tell Pat
no. Not without shouting back that he was busy being horny.

His breathing became deeper, harder when Jeremiah looked at

Sylvester over his shoulder. Those light brown eyes had Sylvester
excited even as they sent a spike of trepidation down his spine. Their
eyes stayed locked for a second before Jeremiah turned back around,
giving his work the attention it needed.

Feeling like he’d been kicked in the gut with the heel of rejection,

Sylvester pushed away from the couch and padded down the hallway.
He walked into the kitchen to see Pat standing there with a roasting
pan clutched in his hands, potholders separating the metal from his
hands.

“I need you to open the oven for me.”
Sylvester stopped himself from gaping openly at Pat. He was

called away from the sexiest man he had ever laid eyes on to open an
oven door? The injustice of it made Sylvester grit his teeth as he
crossed the room and pulled the door open, stepping aside to allow
Pat to set the pan on the top rack.

“Thank you, Sylvester,” Pat said as he tossed the potholders onto

the counter and closed the oven door.

“Anything else?” Sylvester asked as his eyes darted toward the

kitchen door that led back to where he truly wanted to be—which was

Jeremiah’s Heart

in the living room, watching Jeremiah’s body tease him with what he
wanted badly.

“Grab the potatoes.”
Wait. What? That question had been rhetorical, not something

Sylvester wanted answered with a duty. That would only mean more
time away from Jeremiah, and Sylvester wasn’t sure he could handle
that. He was being obsessive where the dark-haired man was
concerned, but at the moment, Sylvester didn’t care.

Pat rolled his eyes when Sylvester didn’t move, heading into the

pantry, bringing back a fifty-pound bag of Idaho potatoes. Was the
man serious? Fifty pounds?

“Don’t look so wigged out. A five-pound bag wouldn’t feed two

of those men, but we’re not using them all.” Pat opened the bag and
began tossing potatoes into the sink. “Grab a peeler from the drawer.”

Sylvester glanced at the doorway once more, wondering how fast

Pat could catch and tackle him if he made a run for it. He speared Pat
with a hard look before abandoning his idea of escape and opening
the drawer.

“I’m heading over to Mystery.” Jeremiah’s deep-timbre voice

filled the kitchen, a surge of immeasurable pleasure making
Sylvester’s cock hard as iron.

“What for?” Pat asked as if Sylvester wasn’t standing next to the

man feeling a need so deep that it almost made his knees buckle as the
sensual feeling of Jeremiah made them weak. It took every ounce of
restraint Sylvester possessed not to turn around and openly stare at
Jeremiah.

“There is a building I’m thinking of converting into a hardware

store. With all the rebuilding, it only makes sense to have one right
here in town.”

“It would save everyone from going to Mayfield County to buy

supplies,” Pat commented as he grabbed a peeler from the drawer,
joining Sylvester at the sink. But Sylvester wasn’t peeling a damn

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thing. His sole attention was focused on Jeremiah’s deep voice. He
wanted to hear the man speak again. He almost begged him to do so.

Ever since they had gone to his apartment to retrieve his

belongings, Jeremiah had been acting strange, as if giving Sylvester
space he didn’t need. Sylvester admitted that he may have freaked out
the next morning after being kidnapped and drugged, but he was
much better now…mostly.

And now he stood here wanting the man in the doorway more

than his next breath. Sylvester had never felt such an intense
attraction before. It was as if Jeremiah was some sort of drug and
Sylvester was an addict to the man’s very presence.

“Are you all right?”
Sylvester blinked a few times, looking from Pat to Jeremiah in

horror as he realized he had been staring at the tall, dark, and
handsome man the whole time he had been lost in thought. Sylvester
dropped his gaze, staring at the half-peeled potato in his hand, feeling
the heat surge through his body with embarrassment. No, he wasn’t
all right. He’d just made a total fool of himself in front of the man he
wanted the most to impress.

Way to go, bonehead.
Jeremiah cleared his throat. “I’ll be back before dinner,” he said,

the smile obvious in the tone of his voice. “Make sure those greedy
bastards don’t eat everything.”

Sylvester gritted his teeth as he not only heard Jeremiah’s

footsteps fade from the kitchen, but felt the immediate loss as the man
parted. His heart began to beat normally again, even though it began
to hurt at Jeremiah leaving.

“Give him time, Sylvester.” Pat sighed as he went back to peeling

the potato in his hand. “Jeremiah is used to going it alone. He’s been
that way his entire life. Let him get used to the idea of having a mate,
and he’ll come around.”

Sylvester wasn’t used to any of this either, but having Jeremiah at

his side would have lessened the ache he felt inside at dealing with the

Jeremiah’s Heart

craziness. Sighing, Sylvester turned toward the sink and began to peel
potatoes, wondering if his life was ever going to make sense again.

He was having serious doubts.

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Chapter Four

Jeremiah surveyed the building he was standing in as the winds

howled fiercely outside. Putting up some sort of barrier against the
cold draft coming through the windows was going to be his first
priority if he decided to use this building.

As he walked around, taking in the room that hadn’t seen a living

soul in over two decades, Jeremiah knew the building was large
enough to work as a hardware store. He had seen that there was plenty
of space out back for stacks of wood he would be purchasing in
various sizes. It wasn’t going to be a large business, but large enough
to fit the needs of this town.

As he tried to envision what the store would look like with

stocked shelves and customers coming and going, Jeremiah’s mind
went to his mate.

His mate.
As many times as he had tossed that word around in his head,

Jeremiah couldn’t seem to grasp the idea that he had one.

It didn’t seem real.
It wasn’t like he didn’t want a mate. Who wouldn’t? But the idea

of opening up and letting someone in scared the hell out of Jeremiah.
He honestly didn’t know how to open up. Thousands of times he had
wanted to start a conversation with Sylvester, get to know everything
about the man he was about to share the rest of his life with. But
every time he attempted to say something, his mind went blank and
his tongue swelled two sizes too big for his mouth.

Jeremiah’s Heart

And that disturbed him. Jeremiah was a strong, proud man who

never failed at words, yet around Sylvester, they fled him. What the
hell was the man doing to him?

He was used to doing his own thing, being by himself, but that

would be no more. He had a mate to take care of. Jeremiah growled at
the complications of mating. He was giving Sylvester his space to
adjust to his new life, but hell if he didn’t want to fuck the blond
man’s brains out. It was killing him to lie next to Sylvester every
night and not touch him.

“Hey, is this the place you had in mind?” Isaac asked as he

walked into the building. Isaac had already fixed up the grocery store,
and now it was fully functional. Jeremiah knew he had his work cut
out for him. This place was a mess.

“Yeah, it looks big enough.” Jeremiah pulled out the pad and

pencil he had brought with him, making a list of things he would need
in order to get the store suitable for supplies.

They both turned when they heard footsteps crunching in the

snow outside. Jeremiah tucked his pad and pencil away as he and
Isaac walked to the door.

But saw no one.
The hairs on the back of Jeremiah’s neck rose as he saw the

footprints in snow. They were on the right side of the store, so they
weren’t his or Isaac’s. The werewolf’s grocery store was to the left of
him, and the town further left. Jeremiah’s hardware store was the last
building before leaving town, away from Highway 114.

“I know I heard someone out here walking,” Isaac said as he

stepped outside. “And they left footprints.”

Jeremiah stepped outside, following Isaac as they walked next to

the footprints. They weren’t boot prints. The prints were smooth, as if
the person was wearing business shoes or loafers. Who wore those
kinds of shoes in the snow?

Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed when he saw the tracks leading to the

back of his store, stopping right outside one of the windows. Had

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someone been watching him? The snow blew around, half covering
the tracks as he stared at the way they went off into a different
direction.

“What are we looking at?”
Jeremiah growled and spun around, slamming York into the

building, his canines bared.

“It was a simple question,” York squeaked. “I didn’t know it was

going to piss you off.”

Jeremiah relaxed his grip. “You just caught me off guard.”
“So what are we looking at?” York repeated as Pat walked around

the side of the building.

“Tracks. Someone was here, watching me.”
York shuddered. “That’s just creepy.”
Jeremiah agreed, but he wanted to know who the hell had been

sneaking around here. It could be Martin, but he wasn’t going to place
the blame solely on the man’s lap. It could be werewolves, or it could
have just been a nosy human. He just didn’t know, and he wasn’t
getting a good feeling about this.

“I could track him,” York volunteered and then scowled when

everyone looked at him with doubt. “What, do you think I’m that
inept?”

“Yes,” the resounding answer was shouted in unison.
“Whatever. I’ll have you know that my father was a very good

hunter, and he taught me everything he knew. Doubt me all you want,
but let me do this before his tracks are covered by the blowing snow.”

Jeremiah took a step back, wondering if York was telling the

truth. “The winds are fierce, and the snow is falling heavier than
earlier. What makes you think you can track him?”

“Watch me,” York said with a challenge. “If I track him then you

guys owe me.”

“Fuck, I’ll back you a batch of cookies for a month if you

succeed,” Pat said, though doubt was strong in his voice.

Jeremiah’s Heart

“No.” York shook his head. “If I find him then I get one date with

Sam.”

“Hell no!”
Jeremiah groaned. It had been an ongoing feud between the two.

Sam was the sheriff in Mayfield County, and someone Pat was very
interested in, but denied his feelings. York was on some sort of idiotic
mission to prove to Pat that the werewolf had feelings for the sheriff.
Pat continuously denied the accusations, and York continuously
tortured Pat. It gave everyone a damn headache to hear those two go
round after round about Sam. Jeremiah knew York had no interest in
Sam, but he loved to fuck with Pat nonetheless.

“Can we just go?” Jeremiah said as he headed toward the front of

the building. Standing there listening to the pair argue was wasting
valuable time. Besides the fact that Martin was still out there
somewhere, it was bitterly cold and the snow was falling heavily.
They would lose any chance they had of finding out who the person
was.

“Watch and learn,” York said with a smirk as he walked away.
Jeremiah rolled his eyes as he followed York. He was going to kill

the werewolf if this was a waste of time. They followed the footprints
until they stopped at tire tracks. Jeremiah had to admit, he hadn’t seen
some of the tracks as the wind blew harder.

York was pretty damn good.
“Do we follow the tire tracks?” York asked.
“I’ll get my truck.” Jeremiah walked back to the hardware store

and slid inside his truck. He wasn’t sure how far they would get
following this lead, but he was determined to find out who was in
Mystery.

He picked the other men up and then listened to York as they

headed to Mayfield County. Whoever the intruder was, Jeremiah’s gut
was knotting. That wasn’t a good sign. It told him that he wasn’t a
passerby. The person had known the men were in Mystery, and he
was checking them out. Whoever he was.

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“Damn it,” York sighed as they came to an intersection. “I lost the

tracks.”

“Ha!” Pat shouted and then crossed his arms over his chest, sitting

back. “That means no date for you.”

“You neither at the rate you’re going,” York shot back, but

Jeremiah could see a small smile tugging at York’s lip. “Slow and
steady is fine for churning butter, but not so fine when you’re trying
to get the man into your bed.”

Pat growled.
York growled in return.
Jeremiah was about to throw both of them out of his damn truck.

He stared at the town ahead of him, knowing that Sylvester’s date,
Charles, lived somewhere around here. He also knew that Martin had
kidnapped his mate from here as well. So no answers were coming to
him as far as the Peeping Tom, but he had a lot more questions now.

Turning the truck around, Jeremiah headed home. If it was the

human, Charles, coming after his mate, then Jeremiah would deal
with him swiftly.

But if it was the alpha, then things could be a little more

complicated.

* * * *

Sylvester came up short when he saw Mercy leaning against the

wall by the front door, his arms over his chest, his head bowed, and
his eyes locked onto Sylvester. “Going somewhere?”

He had been. Sylvester wanted to go over to Mystery and check

on Jeremiah. The man was taking too long, and dinner was getting
cold. Pat and York had gone to get him, but they hadn’t returned
either.

Sylvester lifted his chin, glaring defiantly at Mercy. The man

hardly ever said a word, but his eyes were always watching, as if he
was trying to figure things out in his head. Mystery shrouded the man

Jeremiah’s Heart

and gave him a deadly edge. But Sylvester wasn’t going to be
detoured upstairs. He felt an all-consuming need to check on
Jeremiah. His damn chest ached being separated from the man, and he
didn’t know why.

“I’m going over to Mystery,” he stated as he walked to the door

while praying Mercy didn’t slice his throat open.

The man looked like he would do something like that.
“No,” Mercy said so low that Sylvester almost didn’t catch the

word. “You are not,” he finished as he stood taller, his presence
becoming a reckoning force.

“But they’re taking too long.” Sylvester just barely caught the

whine before it left his lips. Thank goodness his words came out
stronger than he had thought they would.

“Your mate is very resourceful. He’s fine,” Mercy said as he once

again leaned against the wall, relaxed, as if Sylvester wouldn’t dare
shoot past him.

It would blow the man’s mind if Sylvester shot past his ass and

took off.

Too bad he couldn’t really do that. But the thought amused

Sylvester.

He thought about it, really, really hard, but he knew that Mercy

would be all over him in a matter of seconds. And did he really want
to piss this man off? Sylvester knew when to back down. Even if it
ticked him off to do so.

Maybe he could sic Terror on the brooding man.
“Fine,” he grumbled as he walked into the living room and saw

Terror relaxed on the couch. He wished life was that easy.

Dropping onto the sofa, Sylvester ran his hand over the dog’s

head, waiting anxiously for Jeremiah to return.

“Pat left some cookies in the kitchen,” Santana said as he shoved a

thumb over his shoulder. Santana was Isaac’s mate, and a pretty nice
guy. “They’re pretty damn good. I’d get one if I were you. Once
Mercy and Monterey get back, those pigs will eat them all.”

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Sylvester pointed toward the door where Mercy had his eyes

narrowed on Santana.

“Oh, hi, Mercy,” Santana said as he began to back out of the

room. “Coming!” Santana called to an invisible voice as he raced
from the room.

“Come on, girl,” Sylvester said as he stood. “Let’s go see what’s

in the kitchen. Maybe I’ll eat all the cookies to occupy my time.”
Sylvester smiled when he heard a low growl coming from behind
him.

At least he knew Mercy’s weakness now.
Terror trotted alongside him as Sylvester wandered into the

kitchen. The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted around his head
and made his stomach growl. Dinner was waiting for them, but no one
ate. William had told him that everyone had to be seated around the
table before a fork could be lifted.

Sylvester was five seconds away from breaking that rule. His

stomach was rumbling and growling loudly. He picked up a cookie
and took a bite, his eyes rolling as Terror whined. Reaching into the
plastic container on the counter, Sylvester tossed a doggie treat onto
the floor. Terror’s tail waggled as she ate it up, licked her lips, and
then looked up at him, begging with her eyes for another.

“Sorry, girl. You can’t fill up on junk.” Sylvester ate one more

cookie and then walked away. As he came down the hallway, he
heard the front door open. His heart beat wildly when he saw
Jeremiah walk through. Damn, the man looked good.

Sylvester didn’t care if Jeremiah was giving him the cold

shoulder. He’d never in his life been glad to see anyone before. He
ran down the hallway and launched himself into Jeremiah’s arms,
holding him tightly as he breathed the man’s scent in.

“You okay, Sylvester?” Jeremiah asked as he held on to him.
Sylvester took in a deep breath of the man one more time before

he released him. “I am now.”

Jeremiah’s Heart

“Sounds like someone is getting some good sex tonight,” Pat

teased as he hung his coat up in the closet and headed toward the
dining room. “Come on, men. Let’s eat our cold dinner.”

Mercy was the first to move toward the dining room, Monterey

following. Sylvester ignored them as he gazed up into Jeremiah’s
light brown eyes. A hard, rough breath shuddered through him as
Jeremiah held him in his arms. Sylvester couldn’t see himself
anywhere else or with anyone else. Jeremiah was it for him, and that
knowledge was okay with Sylvester. Jeremiah was someone he could
see forever with.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Sylvester nodded. Jeremiah’s voice had a way of stroking over his

senses like an erotic caress, making him feel weak in the knees. “I
was scared when you didn’t come right back. I thought something
terrible happened to you.”

Jeremiah’s eyes softened as he ran his fingers through Sylvester’s

hair. “You were scared, for me?”

Sylvester nodded again, wrapping his arms back around Jeremiah.

The world was a crazy place right now, filled with dangers that
Sylvester didn’t even want to think about. Holding on to the one
person who felt like his only anchor settled the chaotic feelings inside
of Sylvester, and made him feel as if nothing bad could touch him.

Jeremiah tilted Sylvester’s head back, brushing his lips against

Sylvester’s before deepening the kiss. Groaning, Sylvester tried to
climb Jeremiah’s body as the man pushed Sylvester against the front
door, kissing him hungrily.

“Take it upstairs,” York said as he turned around and walked back

into the dining room. Sylvester closed his eyes once again, ignoring
the world around them as he melted into Jeremiah.

“Upstairs?” Jeremiah asked with a teasing dip to his voice,

making Sylvester shiver.

Sylvester grabbed Jeremiah’s hand and hurried toward the steps.

“Hell, yeah.”

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Jeremiah gave a deep chuckle behind him as Sylvester wasted no

time getting them inside the room and slammed the door. His eyes
settled on Jeremiah as he slowly peeled his clothes away, his cock
filling as he watched Jeremiah do the same. As Jeremiah’s skin was
revealed to Sylvester, he could feel his skin heating up, catching fire
to be in the man’s arms.

Jeremiah touched Sylvester’s skin, felt his fingers stroking over it

gently as his lips touched Sylvester’s shoulder, kissing a path to his
neck that left a heated blaze in its wake. “I was trying to give you
room to adjust to your new life,” Jeremiah confessed as his lips kept
exploring Sylvester’s skin.

Sylvester stood there, allowing Jeremiah his exploration as his lips

parted, his cock becoming increasingly harder. “I didn’t want room. I
wanted you. I thought maybe you didn’t want me.”

A low growl rumbled in Jeremiah’s throat as his lips made their

way up his neck to ghost over his lips. “You are my mate. How could
I not want you?”

The words spoken so softly, so gently made Sylvester shiver

where he stood. They washed over him, sending silky ribbons of
pleasure all through his body. Jeremiah eased them over toward the
bed, Sylvester having no problem following.

Even though they had slept together before, that didn’t stop the

nervous butterflies from trying to batter the inside of Sylvester’s
stomach. Their bodies were such a contrast.

Where Jeremiah’s skin held a nice rich golden color, Sylvester’s

was pale, lacking any kind of tint or hue. Jeremiah’s physique was
honed, well sculpted, and defined, whereas Sylvester’s was thin, more
on the trim side. There was absolutely no definition to his body
whatsoever. The contrast was visibly noticeable, and he wondered
what Jeremiah thought of him.

Strong hands skimmed up Sylvester’s back, making him forget

how different they were as Jeremiah pressed Sylvester’s back into the

Jeremiah’s Heart

mattress, his hardness covering Sylvester, blanketing him as Jeremiah
kissed his way around Sylvester’s neck.

Jeremiah displayed such a male, animal grace that Sylvester

nearly moaned. The man was in control, knowing exactly what he
wanted as Sylvester just prayed that he could please the man.

His thick, rich black hair felt like strands of silk as they glided

through Sylvester’s fingers, glistening as his fingers parted. Jeremiah
was a work of art. There was no doubt about that. Sylvester inhaled
sharply as Jeremiah’s fingers curled into his hair, pulling his head to
the side as he licked the side of Sylvester’s neck, teasing the flesh
with his lips.

“You taste like heaven, Sylvester.”
The words were a deep sound in Jeremiah’s chest that played over

Sylvester’s senses like a stroke of pleasure. His legs spread wider, his
back arching slightly as Jeremiah pulled Sylvester further onto the
bed. Sylvester was rapidly spiraling out of control as Jeremiah settled
over him, his hunger for Sylvester felt in every touch, every kiss.

Sylvester felt lightning hot as Jeremiah worked his way down

Sylvester’s body in slow, torturous movements, as if he had all night
to drive Sylvester insane. The man wouldn’t need all night. Sylvester
was so close to insanity right now that it was spiking peaks of arousal
all through his body.

His breath became shallow as Jeremiah’s chin bumped the head of

Sylvester’s cock. The muscles in Sylvester’s legs tensed as he waited
for his lover to take his shaft into a warm mouth. But Jeremiah kept
teasing him, kissing one hip and then the other. His lips moved across
Sylvester’s abdomen slowly, softly, as if his belly were something to
savor.

Sylvester clenched his teeth, grinding his molars as Jeremiah took

his time. His legs jerked, his lower body straining not to shift around
until Jeremiah had his cock in his mouth. Sylvester had a feeling that
no amount of coaxing was going to make Jeremiah move any faster
than his leisurely pace.

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The man was excruciatingly tender as his hands played over

Sylvester’s thighs, pushing them just a little further away as his lips
skimmed up one side and then down the other, his warm breath
making Sylvester tremble with anticipation.

Jeremiah let out a low moan and then took Sylvester’s sac into his

mouth. He almost exploded as Jeremiah’s tongue rasped over one side
and then the other, his tongue lapping over the wrinkled skin as his
fingers dug into Sylvester’s flesh.

Sylvester’s hands reached for Jeremiah’s soft, silky hair as his

lover groaned, the vibrations sending ripples of pleasure through
Sylvester, making his stomach clench and his legs shake. His fingers
curled into the strands, clenching them as Sylvester began to move
underneath Jeremiah’s mouth.

His throat tightened as quick, hard emotions crashed into him. All

Sylvester could do was moan. He wanted to beg Jeremiah to do more,
but words were hard-pressed to leave his throat. There was a bond
between them. Sylvester could almost physically touch it, and he
definitely could feel it tying them together as Jeremiah worked his
way up.

“I have to taste you.” And then he took Sylvester’s cock into his

mouth.

Sylvester breathed deeper, trying to draw oxygen into his lungs as

Jeremiah worked his cock down a tight throat. The muscles moved
around Sylvester’s cock, bringing him such pleasure that Sylvester
felt himself coming unglued, losing any control he may have had.
There was nothing left. Not one shred of control as Jeremiah’s
darkened eyes stared up at him, narrowed and glittering with sexual
heat.

His hands flew to the sheets, gripping them so hard that his fingers

began to ache. Not only was Jeremiah stealing his ability to breathe,
but a sensual, highly charged explosion was working its way toward
Sylvester’s cock.

Jeremiah’s Heart

His back arching, his mind fracturing, Sylvester cried out as the

explosion finally reached its destination. He couldn’t stop the shout as
his seed was pulled from his body, going straight down Jeremiah’s
throat. He twisted and turned, gripping the sheets even tighter with his
fingers as Jeremiah dragged every last drop from his body.

Sylvester had to blink, had to relearn to breathe as Jeremiah pulled

away and then came over him, a sly smile tilting his lips up. Sylvester
didn’t even have the energy to smile back.

“Do you want more?” Jeremiah asked as his knees settled on each

side of Sylvester’s thighs.

“Yes,” Sylvester replied breathlessly. He was surprised he had

enough oxygen to give for that answer.

Jeremiah reached between them, the head of his cock playing at

Sylvester’s hole, teasing it. The head slipped up and down the crease
of Sylvester’s ass, making him wonder when Jeremiah had lubed and
stretched him. He didn’t remember feeling it, but he had been so lost
in what Jeremiah’s mouth had been doing that a marching band could
have been in here and Sylvester wouldn’t have noticed them.

Pleasure swirled inside of Sylvester as Jeremiah slowly eased into

him. The heat of Jeremiah’s body drew him deeper into a chaotic
world of sensation as Jeremiah’s cock worked its way into Sylvester.

Something inside of Sylvester began to emerge, something deep,

dark, and he felt powerless to stop it. Sylvester gasped when his nails
grew, and an ache inside his mouth made his tongue explore until he
discovered that his canines had grown longer, sharper.

“You’re stunning,” Jeremiah murmured as his cock pulled back

and then drove back into Sylvester’s ass. “Your wolf is so beautiful.”

Sylvester could feel a shift in his eyes, everything around him

becoming sharper, clearer. He wasn’t sure what changes were taking
place, but even Jeremiah’s touch was more acute to Sylvester.

“Your eyes are even prettier now,” Jeremiah said as he smiled

down at Sylvester, his hips grinding as his cock sank deeper. “The
hazel is more vivid, the color brighter.”

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As freaked-out as Sylvester wanted to be over his body partially

changing into an animal’s, Jeremiah’s words soothed his worries,
made him curious instead of frightened. Jeremiah dipped his head, his
lips brushing over Sylvester’s. And then they closed over his mouth,
his tongue hungrily probing as Jeremiah drove even deeper inside
Sylvester with his cock, making Sylvester cry out into Jeremiah’s
mouth.

His own cock had come fully back to life, throbbing between their

bodies as Jeremiah took him. Sylvester knew that Jeremiah owned his
heart, lock, stock, and barrel. No other would make Sylvester feel this
way. No other would make Sylvester cry out for just one more touch,
one more kiss. He knew this, and he still lost himself in Jeremiah.

“Why do I want to bite you?” Sylvester cried out into Jeremiah’s

mouth. The thought of biting Jeremiah’s neck made Sylvester’s teeth
ache. It was a need so deep, so desperate that it was crowding out any
other thought in his mind.

“Because we are mates and you want to claim me.”
Jeremiah’s answer came so readily, making perfect sense, but not.

When Jeremiah tilted his head to the side, Sylvester almost lost his
mind. He leaned up, sinking his teeth into Jeremiah’s flesh,
whimpering at the fact that he somehow knew that he had staked his
claim on this man.

Jeremiah’s deep shout only made Sylvester hold on tighter as he

hammered his cock into Sylvester’s ass. Sylvester finally released
him, a howl ripping from his chest as he came for the second time.
His ass crashed onto Jeremiah’s cock as Jeremiah snarled, his canines
gleaming in the low lighting of the bedroom. His mate struck, his
teeth sinking deep into Sylvester as his cock began to throb its release
inside Sylvester’s ass.

Sylvester was tumbling, falling, and crashing as Jeremiah claimed

him. Never in his life had he felt close to anyone the way he did to
Jeremiah. The feeling pulled him apart and then stitched him back
together. Sylvester whimpered as Jeremiah released his teeth, making

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sylvester miss that closeness, that intimacy of being claimed by the
strong man wrapped around him.

Jeremiah licked his shoulder, nuzzled his neck, and pulled

Sylvester closer to his chest. It felt so safe in the man’s arms that
Sylvester never wanted to leave them. How could any harm come to
him with Jeremiah keeping him safe?

As Jeremiah stretched out beside Sylvester, spooning behind him

and holding him close, Sylvester knew he wouldn’t survive if he ever
lost this man.

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Chapter Five

In the cold light of morning, Jeremiah saw Sheriff Samuel Reese

heading his way. He knew the man was coming to make sure that
Sylvester was here of his own free will, and that made his chest
rumble.

Jeremiah would never force Sylvester to do anything against his

will. The man had given himself so freely last night that Jeremiah
could still feel his mate’s body heat on his skin. The implication of
Jeremiah forcing Sylvester pissed him off.

The car came to a slow stop. Jeremiah watched as Sam got out of

the car and tipped his head. He stood on the top step of the porch,
watching as the sheriff made his way to the house from his car.

For a human, the man held an air of confidence about him that

was impressive. Sam wore a cowboy hat instead of the typical
sheriff’s hat today, and jeans instead of uniform pants. He looked
dressed down. As if the entire uniform was optional.

“Can I help you?” Jeremiah asked as he leaned into the post of the

porch, tucking his hands into his front pockets. It was still very early,
and not many of the werewolves inside were awake. But they would
be soon when Sam entered the house. The men who lived under
Sage’s roof had a way of knowing when a stranger was among them.
Although Sam wasn’t a stranger, he wasn’t pack either.

“Just coming out to talk to Sylvester,” Sam replied as if it were

just another friendly visit.

“He’s still sleeping.” And he would be for a while after last night.

His mate had woken up in the middle of the night begging for more.

Jeremiah’s Heart

And there was no way Jeremiah could deny him. The feel of Sylvester
under him was addictive.

“Then I’ll take a cup of hot coffee if you don’t mind.”
He did mind, but Jeremiah straightened, leading Sam into the

kitchen. He brewed a fresh pot as the sheriff leaned against the
counter, taking in the kitchen. “This place looks great.”

“Thanks.” Jeremiah grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and set

them next to the pot. “Are you here to make sure Sylvester isn’t my
prisoner?” The question came out in a growl as Jeremiah went for the
cream in the refrigerator.

“Something like that,” Sam admitted with no shame in his voice.
“And you won’t tell me who made the call to you?”
“Sorry, Jeremiah. I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Sam sighed as he removed his hat, running his hand through his

dark brown hair. “It’s nothing personal, Jeremiah. It’s just procedure.”

Jeremiah grunted as he poured two cups of coffee and handed one

to Sam. “Someone was in Mystery yesterday, spying inside the
building I was in. I followed the tracks until they disappeared right
outside of Mayfield County. So I’m wondering if the man who called
you is the same man who came out here.”

Sam took a sip of his coffee as he stared at Jeremiah over the rim,

his eyes telling Jeremiah that he was listening closely. “And you
didn’t get a look at the person?”

Jeremiah shook his head as he turned to face Sam. “No.”
“Oh, hell,” Pat said as he walked into the kitchen and spotted Sam

leaning against the counter. “What a nice thing to wake up to in the
morning.”

Sam grinned as he took another sip of his coffee. Jeremiah knew

that the other reason Sam had come all the way out here was to get a
glimpse of Patrick. The guy was interested. It was in his light blue
eyes as he stared at Pat moving around the kitchen. “Are you staying
for breakfast?”

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Jeremiah hid the grin as he heard the small hope in Pat’s voice.

The man sucked at trying to hide his feelings for the sheriff. He
wasn’t sure why Pat denied the man.

“If you’re inviting me,” Sam said as he lowered his mug.
“Oh, I’m inviting you,” Pat teased as he grabbed the food for

breakfast. “But you’ll have to take your coffee someplace else so I
can cook.”

Jeremiah walked out of the kitchen, Sam right behind him as they

moved toward the living room. He saw William out of the corner of
his eyes turn around and run back down the hallway upstairs.
Jeremiah shook his head.

“Is anyone going to tell me why that man keeps running from me

every time he sees me?” Sam asked as they walked into the living
room.

“Saw that?”
Sam chuckled. “Every time.”
“I can’t.” Jeremiah threw Sam’s words back at him.
“Can’t or won’t?” Sam did the same as he grinned.
“He’s not wanted for murder, so it’s not important,” Jeremiah said

as he sat down.

“I could arrest him and run his prints.”
Jeremiah nodded. “You could. But do you really want to get on

the wrong side of Sage?” William was Sage’s mate, and extremely
protective of William. Sage would kill anyone who even thought they
could take William away.

Sam looked like he was mulling it over in his mind as he sat

down, tossing his hat beside him. “Not really. Just as long as William
isn’t wanted for anything, we’re fine.”

Jeremiah wasn’t even aware that Sam knew William’s name. The

man was good. He’d give him that. Somehow he had a feeling Sam
already ran William’s name. But since William’s only crime was
leaving a place he didn’t belong, he knew the sheriff wasn’t going to
arrest the man.

Jeremiah’s Heart

Jeremiah felt the heat in his groin flare when Sylvester walked

down the steps, yawning and looking like a rumpled mess. Damn, he
was sexy. He smiled when he saw Jeremiah watching him, but the
smile faded when he looked over at Sam.

“Sylvester, this is Sheriff Samuel Reese. He came here to make

sure I’m not holding you against your will.”

Sylvester stood at the bottom of the steps, his eyes going from

Jeremiah to Sam. “I’m here because I want to be here,” Sylvester said
as he continued to stare at Sam. “I’ve seen you around in Mayfield.
Aren’t you a little ways off?”

Jeremiah grinned at his mate. The man was pretty observant first

thing in the morning. He was sexy as hell, too. Jeremiah had an urge
to grab Sylvester and run back upstairs. Damn, his cock was getting
hard.

“That I am,” Sam replied. “But traveling far for a good breakfast

seems a fair trade.”

“Breakfast?” Sylvester once again looked confused as he walked

over to Jeremiah and took a seat next to him, leaning in to Jeremiah’s
side.

“Pat has been nice enough to invite me to breakfast.” Sam took

another drink of his coffee. Jeremiah saw the sparkle of delight in the
man’s eyes.

“And that breakfast would be ready,” Pat said as he came down

the hallway into the living room. “Since you are the only ones down
here at the moment, go grab the rest of the food and bring it into the
dining room.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam said as he stood and walked toward the kitchen.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Jeremiah asked as he pulled

Sylvester to his feet.

“Every last minute.” Pat winked as he disappeared into the dining

room.

“What am I missing?” Sylvester asked as he followed Jeremiah.

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“Pat has a crush on Sam and refuses to admit that it’s anything

more than flirting.” Jeremiah grabbed the basket of buttery biscuits as
Sylvester grabbed the platter of bacon.

“What’s wrong with admitting he has a crush on Sam?”
“Hell if I know,” Jeremiah said as they rounded the corner into the

dining room. Jeremiah stopped short as Sylvester cleared his throat.
Sam and Pat quickly pulled away from each other, caught in a lover’s
embrace. Jeremiah tossed the basket on the table as Sylvester set the
platter down. “I’ll go get everyone else.”

Grabbing Sylvester’s hand, Jeremiah turned to leave the two

alone.

“No, I’ll go get them.” Pat hurried from the dining room as if his

ass were on fire. Jeremiah watched as he ran past, a flushed look on
his face.

Sam cleared his throat as he waved at the table. “Does it matter

where I sit?”

This was going to be one very interesting breakfast. “Anywhere

you like,” Jeremiah answered as he took a seat. The room filled
quickly with hungry men, and Jeremiah saw that Sam was now sitting
between Pat and York. As sour as Jeremiah was most of the time, he
found himself grinning. This was going to be very entertaining.

“So, Sam,” York began as he lifted a biscuit from the napkin-lined

basket, “what brings you here so early in the morning? Not that I’m
complaining. It’s always a happy thing in my book to see a sexy man
at the breakfast table.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Monterey asked. “I’m sexy as hell,

but you never said anything about it before.”

York rolled his eyes. “I’m talking to Sam,” he said snippily and

then turned back toward the sheriff. “Well?”

Jeremiah could see the blush creeping across Sam’s face and ears.

The human glanced down at his plate, suddenly very interested in
eating.

Jeremiah’s Heart

“He came to see me,” Pat announced with a sniff. “So I made him

breakfast.”

“You made everyone breakfast,” Isaac pointed out.
Pat shot daggers at Isaac and then smiled at Sam. “How does it

taste?”

“Like bacon,” Mercy grumbled as he grabbed his juice and took a

swallow.

Pat growled softly as he gave each and every man at the table the

evil eye—everyone except Sam of course. Jeremiah wondered what in
the hell he was getting the daunting look for. He hadn’t said a word.

Sylvester bumped shoulders with Jeremiah, a small grin on his

face. Jeremiah studied his mate for a few moments. The man was
stunning, even first thing in the morning. The more Jeremiah got to
know Sylvester, the more he was finding that he really liked the man.
He had been a little concerned that he had mated someone he wasn’t
going to like. But it was turning out to be quite the opposite.

His mate made Jeremiah want to smile all of the time, do anything

he could to make the man happy, and…

Oh hell. He had seen Sage crashing hard when he was falling for

William. Was that what was happening to him? Even Isaac turned
into vomit-worthy soft goo around Santana. Jeremiah could see his
future, and it was filled with torturous, mind-numbing romance.

He knew there was no avoiding the inevitable. He was crashing

full speed ahead just like the other two men, and he couldn’t put on
the brakes.

Jeremiah wasn’t even sure there were any brakes.
Sylvester smiled flirtatiously with Jeremiah, and he knew he was a

goner.

“Eat up, men,” Sage said as he interrupted York and Pat’s

scowling competition with each other. “We have supplies to purchase
if Jeremiah is going to get his business up and running. And we need
to finish this house.”

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“I’m glad to see Mystery being rebuilt,” Sam said as he bit into

his bacon.

“I’m buying the diner,” Pat said as he moved a little closer to the

sheriff. “I’ll give you free breakfasts every morning you come in.”

“That’s right, bribe the man to come see you,” York snapped.
Jeremiah glanced up when an argument ensued between the two

wolves. Great, another fabulous meal with my pack. Hopefully Sam
wouldn’t be coming by too often in the mornings. Jeremiah wasn’t
sure he wanted the headache.

* * * *

Against a heated argument, and plenty of persuading, Sylvester

was standing in the building Jeremiah was considering for his
hardware store. But Sylvester wasn’t thinking about that. He stared at
his hand, willing claws to come out.

Nothing was happening.
He knew from last night that he could partially shift, but as hard

as he glared at his hands, his fingernails remained human. He shook
them out and tried again, concentrating to the point he was giving
himself a damn headache. Curling his fingers in, Sylvester held his
breath and focused solely on his fingers, as if he could drill a hole
through them with his eyes.

Damn it! He was getting frustrated as hell. He wanted to see his

claws when he could fully concentrate on them instead of when he
had attention on Jeremiah fucking him into the headboard. As crazy
as it sounded, Sylvester wanted to see what he looked like as a
werewolf.

Jeremiah’s hand came into view, covering Sylvester’s. “You’re

trying too hard. You have to let it happen naturally.”

“I’ve been trying for the past half an hour. Nothing is happening

except a migraine.”

Jeremiah took a step back. “Do you want to shift?”

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sylvester nodded.
“Then I want you to strip and relax.”
Those two things were not going to happen at the same time.

Although they were the only two in the building, Sylvester worried
someone would come in and catch his frosty balls swinging in the
wind. And he also knew that stripping in front of Jeremiah was going
to give him a raging hard-on.

Taking a deep breath and trying his best not to think of the sexy

man in front of him, Sylvester stripped out of his clothes. Fuck, it was
cold as hell in here.

“Your body temperature will rise when you shift. Werewolves

tend to run a little hotter than humans,” Jeremiah informed him when
Sylvester began to shiver like crazy. “Okay, now relax and think of
your werewolf form. Not just a part of it, but your entire being.”

Sylvester closed his eyes and thought about when he saw his arms

all fuzzy and his nails growing at least three inches long. They had
been black, sharp. His fur had been a strange blondish color, and his
nose had felt like it was being pulled from his face.

“Simply stunning,” Jeremiah said in awe as Sylvester opened his

eyes. He gasped when he saw that he had changed into a werewolf.
He howled and then grinned. Well, he tried to grin, but he wasn’t so
sure that was what it looked like. Having a long snout might have
prevented a smile from forming.

“Do you want to go for a run?” Jeremiah asked as excitement

turned his light brown eyes to almost a clear color.

“Really?” Sylvester jerked, shocked that he sounded so gravelly.
Jeremiah grinned. “Let me shift, and we’ll go for a run.”
Sylvester almost whimpered when Jeremiah stripped out of his

clothes. The man was golden and gorgeous. He could feel his cock
hardening at the sight of such delicious-looking skin. Sylvester
wanted to lick the man from head to toe. And it didn’t escape his
notice that Jeremiah was hard as steel.

To hell with the running. Sylvester wanted to fuck!

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“Watch how I transform,” Jeremiah said, breaking into Sylvester’s

thoughts. His eyes flickered up as he watched Jeremiah close his eyes,
and then there was a slight shimmer to his mate’s body. Sylvester
blinked a few times when Jeremiah flawlessly shifted into a werewolf.
The man made it look so easy.

“Ready?”
Sylvester snickered at the roughness of Jeremiah’s voice. Even in

his werewolf form the man sounded sexy as sin. He nodded and
followed Jeremiah to the doorway. His mate held his hand up,
stopping Sylvester from walking outside as he scanned the area.
Sylvester waited, feeling the excitement build inside of him.

He was going to go running with Jeremiah. He wasn’t sure why,

but just running with his mate in this form felt as though they were
sharing some sort of bond. It was just the two of them, teacher and
student, but the knowledge that Jeremiah had taken his time to show
Sylvester the ropes meant a lot to him.

“Okay, it’s clear.”
Sylvester stepped outside, noticing that he wasn’t too cold. It was

a bit chilly, but nothing compared to when he was standing there
naked in his human form. Jeremiah took off, and Sylvester shot after
him. They headed in the direction of the house. That was a solid mile.
Sylvester had an entire mile to enjoy his mate and a freedom unlike
anything he had ever felt before.

Sylvester slowed when Jeremiah shot around a building, leaving

him to wonder what the man was doing. And then Jeremiah raced
from the side of the building, chasing after Sylvester. He yelped and
took off, his mate hot on his heels.

Jeremiah howled and then tackled Sylvester, a bark rumbling from

him. Sylvester laughed and rolled as Jeremiah let out another bark. If
he wasn’t mistaken, his mate was laughing. Even in his werewolf
form, the sound was music to Sylvester’s ears. He didn’t hear the man
laugh too often.

“Uncle,” Sylvester shouted as he wiggled under Jeremiah.

Jeremiah’s Heart

His mate jumped up and then took off again, Sylvester chasing

him this time. He had never had this much fun in his life. Sylvester
was actually sweating by the time they hit Highway 114.

They raced across the road and into the woods, Sylvester dogging

Jeremiah’s every step. Everything was so much sharper to him. The
sights, the sounds, and the smells were barraging him as he ran after
his mate. Sylvester could hear the flutter of wings, see farther than in
his human form, and smell the strong scent of pine as they played in
amongst the trees.

He yelped again when Jeremiah came from his left, tackling

Sylvester once more. He hadn’t even seen Jeremiah disappear.
Sylvester growled. He was going to get the upper hand eventually and
tackle his mate instead.

Jeremiah barked with laughter again as he jumped to his feet and

took off. Sylvester stood, shaking the snow loose from his fur when a
strange scent invaded his lungs. He knew Jeremiah’s scent. He was
covered in it. He also knew the scent of the woods. This smell was
different, almost sweet.

Sniffing the air, Sylvester followed the scent. The snow crunched

beneath his feet, and branches slid past his arms, but he kept going.
What was that wonderful smell? Sylvester pushed aside pine branches
as he walked further away from the house. He knew he was going too
far, but the sweet smell seemed to pull him against his will. Almost as
if he had to find out what it was.

He jumped and growled, swiping his claws out when someone

grabbed him from behind. Sylvester bared his teeth, snapping and
howling.

“Calm down, mate,” Jeremiah growled as he forced Sylvester to

stop attacking him. He couldn’t help it. Some sort of inborn instinct
had Sylvester defending himself against what he thought was a threat.

“Sorry.” He panted as he lowered his hands. “You scared me.”

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“What are you doing all of the way out here?” Jeremiah demanded

as he released Sylvester. “It isn’t safe for you to go wandering around
by yourself.”

Sylvester tilted his head back, sniffing the air for that sweet,

aromatic scent. But it was gone. He couldn’t understand how it had
disappeared so quickly, but nothing but Jeremiah and the woods
filtered into his nose now. “It was sweet.”

Jeremiah cocked his head. “What was sweet?”
“The smell. It was the sweetest thing I have ever smelled before.”
Jeremiah sniffed the air and then shook his head. “I don’t smell

anything sweet.”

Neither did Sylvester…anymore. He scratched his head and then

turned, heading back toward the house. “I smelled something,
Jeremiah.”

“Well, whatever it was, it’s gone now. You can’t chase after every

scent, love. It could get you into a lot of trouble doing that.”

Sylvester knew this. But the scent had been so alluring that it had

created a shroud around his head and led him astray. “Are we going
back to get our clothes?” Sylvester ignored the chastisement. He
didn’t know how to explain the pull that he had just experienced
without his mate looking at him like he was crazy.

“No, I’ll have one of the men take me over there to get them along

with my truck,” Jeremiah said as they cleared the woods, the house
coming into view.

Sylvester took one last look behind him, wondering what in the

hell he had smelled that was so good, so wonderful, that it made him
forget about safety and bad guys.

Jeremiah’s Heart

Chapter Six

Sage listened to Jeremiah, unsure of what he was hearing. “He

smelled something sweet and followed the scent?” This wasn’t good.
No one knew exactly what his father had shot into Sylvester to
convert him. Sage wasn’t sure what other changes Sylvester might go
through either. So far the man seemed fine. Jeremiah said his shifts
were normal, but Sage still wondered what dear old Dad was up to.

He wasn’t foolish enough to think Martin was finished with them.

His father was relentless if nothing else. He just worried more victims
of the serum would be found. They didn’t have enough werewolves
here to mate every single damn person that fell victim to Martin. And
it wasn’t fair to werewolf or victim that their choice was taken away
from them. It was sheer luck that Jeremiah and Sylvester fell for each
other. Next time—and Sage knew there might be one—a forced
mating might not go so well.

Maybe it was time they started searching for this cure. He doubted

it would work on werewolves born of the race. But if it could help the
newly converted, that would make Sage feel slightly better.

“Yeah,” Jeremiah said. “It was as if he was in some sort of trance.

I called his name twice, but had to grab him to get his attention.”

Sage’s gut told him it was his father. He just couldn’t put the

pieces together. “Keep an eye on your mate. I don’t need him lured
away. I have a feeling the alpha wasn’t finished with his little
experiment just yet before we discovered him.” Sage stared at his best
friend, worry filling him that Jeremiah would go after Martin to stop
him from going after Sylvester. “And don’t go hunting for the alpha,
J.”

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“What am I supposed to do, Sage? Should I sit around and wait

for him to go after Sylvester? As much as I would love to lock my
mate up in this house, you and I both know that isn’t going to happen.
He’s a werewolf now and needs to get out. So tell me what in the hell
to do?” Jeremiah’s voice started growing more aggressive, more
challenging as he sat there waiting for an answer.

The problem was, Sage didn’t have one. He knew he couldn’t lock

William up either. His mate loved shifting and ran outside any chance
he could. It scared the hell out of Sage, but he wasn’t going to make
his own mate a prisoner. Santana’s first shift was coming soon as
well. Things were not getting easy, and Sage could feel the anger
building inside of him. He knew how Jeremiah felt.

Running his finger over the wedding band on his hand, Sage sat

forward, sighing deeply. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer, J. But
running into the night to slay my father isn’t the answer. You have a
mate now. Whether you like it or not, you have to put him first.”

“I am putting him first,” Jeremiah argued. “I’m putting him first

by killing the threat to him.”

Sage could see he wasn’t getting anywhere with his best friend.

Jeremiah was as stubborn as they came. Sage just prayed that quality
didn’t get the man killed.

* * * *

Jeremiah set the plywood on the table saw, adjusting the rip fence

before making the cut. There was something about the smell of wood
and sawdust that made him feel at ease. Jeremiah liked working with
his hands. There was something about taking a step back when the job
was done and a sense of pride knowing that he had built whatever it
was he had been working on.

He had placed plastic over the windows for now, the heavy duty

kind to keep the wind down and the draft out. It kept most of the cold

Jeremiah’s Heart

out but not all of it. If he hadn’t been a werewolf, Jeremiah doubted
he would be able to stand it.

Still, the place was slowly coming along. Jeremiah couldn’t wait

until the hardware store was finally finished and he could open for
business. It wasn’t like he would be getting a steady stream of
customers or anything, but the place would be all his. Well, his and
Sylvester’s.

At least Jeremiah hoped that Sylvester wanted to join him in

operating the business. Jeremiah no longer considered the place just
his. He thought of it as a joint venture between him and Sylvester. He
wanted to share the place with his mate, run it with him.

Even now, Jeremiah could picture the two of them operating the

hardware store once the town started to get on its feet. They would
spend hours in the place, helping customers and making a home for
themselves—and just maybe sneaking off to the back office for a little
time alone when the store was empty. Jeremiah was giving serious
consideration to making the little storeroom in the back into a work-
time den for him and Sylvester, complete with a mattress and a case
of lube.

Jeremiah’s head snapped up when he heard a small creak in the

back of the store. The wind was blowing pretty damn hard, but it
never made that kind of sound unless someone was there. Jeremiah
just couldn’t figure out if the sound came from someone walking
across the floor or opening a door.

He carefully set down the saw in his hand and started toward the

back of the store. As he neared the doorway leading into the back of
the store, he lifted his nose into the air and sniffed. There was…
something there. Jeremiah just couldn’t quite place it. It smelled
human, but the scent was off, like not wholly human. But it wasn’t
werewolf either.

Jeremiah’s claws extended as he rounded the corner of the

doorway. He instantly froze in the doorway. The back door was
blowing open a couple of inches then slapping closed, only to blow

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open again. Jeremiah knew for a fact that he had closed that door
when he had come inside earlier, which meant someone had to have
opened it.

Jeremiah knew he wasn’t going crazy as he glanced around the

empty back room. He had shut the door when he came in. But there
was no one in the room, and it didn’t appear like anyone had come in
either. If someone had, there would have been footprints or snow or at
least a puddle of water. Something to show an intruder. But there just
wasn’t.

Okay, maybe I’m losing it. Jeremiah chuckled to himself as he

pulled his hand down his face. With Sage’s father being on the loose
and someone possibly after Sylvester, besides Sage’s father, just
maybe Jeremiah was starting to see things. He knew he had shut the
door, but maybe he hadn’t shut it hard enough.

Jeremiah crossed the small back room and reached for the handle

of the door. He started to pull it closed when the scent he had smelled
before suddenly became overwhelming. Jeremiah tensed and started
to spin around only to feel something slam into the back of his head.

A starburst of pain exploded in Jeremiah’s head, dropping him to

his knees. Before he could recover, whoever had hit him in the back
of the head hit him again, this time hitting him on the side of the head.
Jeremiah went down, rolling onto his back on the floor. The pain was
overwhelming, worse than his first shift even.

He could feel a cold trickle of something dripping down onto his

face. It smelled like blood, his blood, but Jeremiah couldn’t be sure.
He still smelled something odd. He wished he could place it so he
would remember it, assuming he lived through this.

Jeremiah’s vision began to dim, the lights overhead flickering in

and out. Just before he totally blacked out, a dark shadow came into
his line of vision.

Jeremiah inhaled sharply. “You!”

* * * *

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sylvester rubbed his temple. His head had started aching a few

minutes ago, and it was getting worse. He wasn’t prone to migraines
but this sure felt like one, and it was adding up to be a doozy.

“Hey, are you okay?” William asked, laying his hand on

Sylvester’s arm. “You’re looking a little pale there.”

Sylvester nodded over at William. “Yeah. I think I’m just getting

a headache. Maybe it’s all this clean air.”

“Or Pat’s cooking.” William snickered.
Sylvester chuckled then winced when a new level of pain stabbed

into his head. Oh yeah, this was going to be the mother of all
headaches. Sylvester ambled over to the window and looked out
toward town. He wished Jeremiah was here. He seemed to always
make things better.

“Fire.”
“What?” William asked from the other side of the room.
Sylvester’s heart was beating so fast he could barely breathe, let

alone speak. “Fire.” He pointed toward town. “There’s a fire.”

“What?” William shouted as he ran over to the window and

looked out. “Oh hell. Sage!”

Not two seconds later, Sage came running into the room, his claws

already extended as if he was ready to fight whatever, or whoever,
was threatening his mate. “What?”

“There’s a fire in town!” William shouted.
Sage didn’t even take the time to look out the window. He just

dashed to the door, shouting for everyone else as he went. Sylvester
saw him shift the second his feet hit the ground, and then he was
running toward town as fast as he could.

Sylvester stood there, frozen, fear making it nearly impossible to

move. Jeremiah was in town working on the hardware store. He could
be in trouble. He could be…Nope, he wasn’t going there.

Sylvester heard William shouting for him to stay in the house. He

ignored the man as he ran out the back door. Sylvester had one goal in

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mind, one destination. Jeremiah. Beyond that, the whole fucking town
could burn to the ground for all he cared. He just wanted his mate.
Sylvester’s steps slowed as he neared the hardware store and saw
everyone running around trying to douse the flames.

The hardware store was on fire.
Jeremiah!
Sylvester didn’t think. He didn’t have time to. If he thought about

it, he probably…yes, he would have. Sylvester would still have run
straight for the door. He felt someone try to grab him, but Sylvester
twisted out of their grip. No one was going to stop him from getting to
his werewolf.

The smoke was thick, making Sylvester’s eyes water. He began to

cough, his lungs already burning. Remembering what Jeremiah had
taught him, Sylvester shifted. Being in his werewolf form didn’t stop
him from inhaling smoke, but it made breathing slightly better.
Pulling his torn shirt away from his chest, Sylvester pushed the fabric
under his nose and covered his mouth.

He knew the layout of the store. He had been there several times

before. It was an open area considering nothing had been bought for
the store yet, but the flames still licked up the walls and shot across
the ceiling. Thank god most of the wall was new wood. It was still
material that could burn, but if the old wood had still been in place,
the building would have been burned to the ground by now.

Sylvester pushed through the thick and suffocating smoke as he

made his way to the back door. His heart was racing so fast that it was
beating in his ears. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of here
alive. The sound of crackling fire and the roar in his ears were
deafening. He jumped when a part of the wall crashed to the floor.

Tears stung his eyes. Most of it was from the smoke, but some of

the tears were from desperation. He didn’t want to lose his mate.
Sylvester couldn’t think of living without Jeremiah. Life without his
werewolf wouldn’t be a life at all. He knew this.

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sylvester looked down when his foot kicked something solid.

Through the billowing smoke, he saw Jeremiah lying there, blood
covering one side of the man’s head. Sylvester looked around quickly,
trying his best to figure a way out of here.

There was no way he could carry Jeremiah back through the store.

It was too risky. And Sylvester wasn’t sure he could even carry the
man. Jeremiah was huge. Sylvester wasn’t a weakling, but Jeremiah
wasn’t puny either.

He saw the back door right on the other side of Jeremiah.

Sylvester ran to it. It was already opened slightly. If he could get it
open all of the way, then he could drag Jeremiah from the building
and out into fresh air.

Sylvester shoved the cloth he had been using to cover his nose and

mouth into the waistband of his torn jeans as he gripped the door. But
as hard as he pulled, the door wasn’t budging. Why in the hell wasn’t
the door opening? Sylvester looked around the frame, jerking when he
heard something inside of the store crashing. He knew he was quickly
running out of time.

He yanked again, but the door just wouldn’t open any further.

Sylvester felt desperation seize him as flames began to lick as the
ceiling above his head. He looked down to see that Jeremiah’s body
was the cause of the door not opening. His legs were in the way,
holding the door in place.

Sylvester reached under Jeremiah’s arms, pulling with all his

might to get the man’s legs away from the door. A bout of spastic
coughing racked him, and Sylvester felt dizziness wash over him. But
he wasn’t going to give up. Jeremiah was depending on Sylvester to
save his life. Digging the heels of his feet into the floor, Sylvester
yanked at Jeremiah until he fell on his ass.

But it was enough for him to get the door open. Quickly getting to

his feet, Sylvester grabbed the frame of the door and swung it open.
He turned, seeing Jeremiah’s still form lying there as the fires began
to get closer. Sylvester had no other choice. He grabbed Jeremiah’s

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ankles and began to pull with every single muscle in his body. It was
a slow process, but the man was slowly being pulled from the
building.

Another crash sounded and then a large beam fell to the floor, the

flames licking a path up the wood and then catching the wall on fire
that it was touching.

And it was touching the wall right by Jeremiah’s head. Sylvester

coughed again, his ribs hurting so badly from the strain of coughing
that he nearly collapsed, but he knew he couldn’t stop. If he stopped,
Jeremiah was dead.

And that was not an option.
Sylvester scrambled over to Jeremiah, grabbing his shoulders this

time as he pushed the deadweight from the floor, pushing at
Jeremiah’s shoulders until the man rolled sideways, his body almost
out the door.

A thick sheen of sweat covered Sylvester. Soot and smoke clung

to the perspiration as he wiped his face on his shoulder. The fur
seemed to clear some of the soot from around his eyes as he pushed at
Jeremiah again.

This time Jeremiah rolled free from the building. But Sylvester

wasn’t going to stop. He wanted Jeremiah as far away from the
building as possible.

“Shit.”
Sylvester didn’t look up to see who it was. He kept right on

yanking at Jeremiah’s arms to pull him through the snow.

“I have him,” Sage said as he pulled Jeremiah from the ground.

Sylvester got up and ran behind Sage until they were in front of the
building where the other men were working to contain the fire. He
could hear sirens off in the distance and knew he needed to change
back into his human form, but Sylvester was more concerned about
Jeremiah at the moment.

“Mercy, take Sylvester home,” Sage called out as he laid

Jeremiah’s form on the ground.

Jeremiah’s Heart

“No!” Sylvester screamed at he ran for his mate. “I won’t leave

him.”

Sage was on his feet, dragging Sylvester to his truck. Sylvester

fought with all his might, but Sage was just too damn strong. “And we
don’t need the humans seeing you like this.”

“But I can’t leave him,” Sylvester said as a sob broke from his

chest. “He needs me.”

“What he needs is for you to be safe, Sylvester. Go home with

Mercy and shift back into your human form. Get dressed, and then
he’ll bring you back.”

Sylvester dug his nails into Sage’s arms, staring down at his mate.

Jeremiah hadn’t opened his eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise. Now go.”
Mercy grabbed Sylvester and put him in the passenger’s side

before he raced around the truck to get in. The tires spun as Mercy
maneuvered the truck around to face Highway 114 and then drove
them away from Mystery. Sylvester twisted in his seat, looking out of
the back window, seeing Sage begin CPR on Jeremiah. He covered
his mouth with his hand as he began to cry.

What if Jeremiah didn’t make it? What if after all that effort he

died? Sylvester couldn’t think of the possibility that he would be all
alone. As crazy a turn as his life had taken, he didn’t want to be
without his werewolf.

As the truck raced down the road, Sylvester saw the fire truck and

ambulance pull into Mystery. “Hurry, Mercy.”

“I’ll get you back to him.” Mercy’s voice was low, but there was a

promise in his words that told Sylvester that Mercy would get him
back to Jeremiah. And he believed the man.

When the truck came to a stop in front of the house, Sylvester

took off inside, running straight up to his bedroom. It was hard to
concentrate, very hard to focus as he tried to shift back into his human
form. But it eventually happened, and Sylvester quickly dressed.

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He was down the stairs and out the door, hearing William calling

for him. Sylvester didn’t have time to explain anything to the man.
“Sage is fine,” he shouted over his shoulder as the palm of his hand
slammed into the screen door. He knew William was worried about
his mate, and Sylvester wanted to reassure the man that Sage was
fine. He just didn’t want to slow down.

Jumping from the porch steps, Sylvester nearly lost his balance,

but managed to stay upright as he ran back toward the passenger side.
He jumped in and Mercy was tearing from the driveway.

“You have soot all over your face.”
“I know.”
“You can’t show up with soot on your face. The humans will want

to know why you left the scene. Grab a bottle of water from under the
seat and try to clean yourself up.”

Sylvester reached under the seat, feeling the plastic, and then

pulled the bottle to him. He opened the glove box and grabbed a few
napkins. As they drove toward Mystery, Sylvester tried his best to
clean the evidence from his face and neck. They arrived where they
had left Jeremiah a few minutes later. Sylvester could see Jeremiah
being lifted into the back of the ambulance.

Mercy placed his hand on Sylvester’s arm. “You can go with him,

but rest assured, I’ll be following. I can’t leave you unprotected, and
the hospital can’t examine Jeremiah’s blood.”

Full understanding dawned on Sylvester. The doctors would find

the werewolf anomaly in Jeremiah’s blood if they examined it.
Sylvester nodded. “I understand.”

Mercy released him, and Sylvester hurried from the truck,

climbing into the back of the ambulance. He was headed to Mayfield
County. He was headed right back to Charles and the men who had
kidnapped him. Sylvester felt his stomach knot at the thought, and the
only thing that calmed him was the knowledge that Mercy would be
there.

Jeremiah’s Heart

The ambulance pulled in front of the hospital, coming to a stop in

front of the emergency department. Sylvester climbed out as the
stretcher carrying Jeremiah was pulled from the back of the truck.

He followed his mate inside, glancing around as doctors rushed

forward. Sylvester didn’t feel safe here, but he wasn’t going to leave
Jeremiah.

“You’ll have to wait out here,” the doctor said as he rushed

Jeremiah away. Sylvester stood there in the hallway of the emergency
room, tears gathering in his eyes as Jeremiah was taken away from
him.

He glanced over to an empty chair and then took a seat, wrapping

his arms around his waist as he waited. Nothing seemed real as he
watched everyone go about their day, as if his mate wasn’t clinging to
life.

Sylvester coughed once more, not as badly this time. He knew he

should be seen, but his blood now held the anomaly, and getting
Jeremiah’s blood from the doctors was going to be hard enough for
Mercy. He didn’t want the man having to steal his as well.

As he sat there wondering if the world was ever going to be right

again, Mercy and Monterey walked through the emergency room
doors. Sylvester let out a relieved breath. At least he wasn’t going to
have to sit here and worry about his safety.

The two took a seat next to Sylvester as all three waited.

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Chapter Seven

Sam walked into the hospital, spotting Mercy and Monterey

sitting on either side of Sylvester. He needed to question them about
the fire, even if Mystery wasn’t his jurisdiction. He wanted answers.
Jeremiah could have died in that fire, and the fire marshal told Sam
that it was deliberately set.

Who would want Jeremiah dead? None of this made any sense to

him. “How is he?” Sam asked as he approached the three.

“In a hospital,” Mercy answered with a low growl.
Sam ignored Mercy’s sour disposition. “Any news?”
Sylvester shook his head as he wiped at his eyes. Sam could see

small patches of dirt on Sylvester’s neck. As he stepped closer, he
noticed that the marks weren’t dirt, but soot. “You were there?”

Sylvester’s head shot up as he gazed at Sam and then looked over

at Mercy, as if he wanted Mercy to speak for him.

“This is a matter for Mystery, not Mayfield.” The warning was

clear in Mercy’s tone. The man wanted Sam to back the hell off. Sam
knew he was out of his jurisdiction, but he had come to consider the
men of Mystery friends.

“I’m asking as Sam, not the sheriff.”
This made Sylvester turn back toward Sam, but there was still fear

and uncertainty in his eyes.

“Then you can wait with us,” Mercy said as he sat back down,

“but no questions.”

If that was the best Sam was going to get, he’d take it for now. He

knew he needed to investigate what happened, but he also knew he
wasn’t going to get anywhere browbeating the men.

Jeremiah’s Heart

It didn’t work that way with Sage or these guys. Sam knew from

being around them enough times that if he wanted to know anything,
he’d have to wait for them to tell him. Sam took a seat on the opposite
side of the waiting room, watching Sylvester and waiting on word
about Jeremiah.

He glanced up when Mercy stood, crossing the room toward Sam.

The guy had a quietness about him that always made Sam leery of the
man. Mercy was someone he wouldn’t want to cross. Sam felt he
could hold his own on any given day, but Mercy just had that dark
and lethal quality about him.

“Can I help you?” Sam asked as he tipped his Stetson back and

stared up at the man standing in front of him.

“Funny you should ask, Sheriff,” Mercy said as he crossed his

arms over his chest. “I need you to steal Jeremiah’s blood before the
doctors have it examined.”

* * * *

Sylvester sat straight up when the doctor came into the waiting

room. He wanted to shout for the doctor to tell him what was wrong
with his mate, but instead, Sylvester curled his hands into fists,
preparing himself for bad news. He and Monterey walked over to the
doctor. Sylvester didn’t think his nerves could take waiting for the
man to approach him. He needed to know, and now.

“Your friend was lucky. It seems being down on the floor saved

his life.”

Sylvester let the air escape his lungs as relief so profound rushed

through him that his legs began to shake.

“We have him on oxygen just as a precaution, but he should be

released first thing in the morning.”

“Why does he have to stay overnight?” Monterey asked as

Sylvester turned toward the doctor for the answer.

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“He suffered a concussion. Blunt force to his head. We need to

keep an eye on it overnight. But if all tests come back negative, he
can go home.”

Sylvester’s head snapped over to Mercy. He knew no one could

examine Jeremiah’s blood, but could they take X-rays? Maybe Mercy
needed to steal more than the tubes of blood. Sylvester assumed it
would be Mercy since the werewolf seemed so secretive. He looked
like he would be good at sneaking around.

“Relax,” Monterey said in a quiet tone. “If he’s not in his other

form, then nothing will show on X-rays.”

Sylvester shivered where he stood. Just the thought of anyone

finding out that there were werewolves in the world made his stomach
tie in knots. Not everyone would have taken the news like he had.
Sylvester almost freaked out, but he had Jeremiah there to soften the
blow. Sylvester wasn’t sure how well humans would accept
werewolves and there just might be hunts called. Which meant no
werewolf would be safe.

They had to get Jeremiah out of here. “The doctor said Jeremiah is

fine,” Sylvester said in a low tone.

“What’s on your mind?” Monterey asked as he glanced around.
“We need to get him out of here before anyone discovers his

anomaly.” Sylvester wasn’t sure how they were going to do that, but
the thought of any one of the men, especially Jeremiah, being hunted
down and killed made him almost panic to get his mate out of this
hospital.

“That’s already being taken care of,” Monterey said as he walked

over to Mercy. Sylvester followed, glancing around.

“How?” he asked and then quieted his questions when they

approached the sheriff. Monterey winked at him, a slight smile on his
face.

“What do you mean you want me to steal his blood?” Sam barked

quietly at Mercy. “Are you nuts?”

Jeremiah’s Heart

“You’re the one who wants to know what’s going on,” Mercy

challenged. “Get his blood, and Sage will fill you in.”

Sam glanced between the men around him. Sylvester wasn’t sure

how much Sage would tell Sam, but he prayed the sheriff would
agree. All their lives depended on making the blood tubes disappear.

“Get the blood, and then meet us back at our place,” Mercy bit out

before turning and heading toward the emergency room door. “Come
on, Sylvester.”

Sylvester stood there staring at Mercy’s back. He wasn’t about to

leave with Jeremiah in one of the emergency rooms. He wanted to see
his mate. The doctor might have cleared Jeremiah, but Sylvester
wanted to see with his own two eyes that his mate was fine.

“Let’s go.” Monterey placed his hand on Sylvester’s shoulder,

ushering him toward the sliding glass doors.

“I’m not leaving him,” Sylvester protested as he tried to knock

Monterey’s hand from his shoulder. “I want to see my mate.”

“He’s not here.” Monterey led him outside and over to one of the

trucks. Sylvester glanced up at the man, wondering what in the hell
Monterey was talking about.

“Then where is he?”
“At home where he can get some rest without anyone poking him

for blood.”

Sylvester looked over his shoulder at the hospital waiting room

just inside the doors. Sam wasn’t anywhere in sight, and Sylvester
hadn’t seen anyone bringing his mate out. He would have to trust
Monterey. He had no other choice as he was escorted to the truck and
then the doors closed, sealing Sylvester inside the cab.

“How did Jeremiah get home?” he asked when Mercy started the

truck and drove away.

“Sage and Isaac snuck his clothes in and Jeremiah walked out the

side entrance with them,” Monterey answered.

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Well, damn. Sylvester hadn’t seen any of that taking place. They

were good. He sat back, watching the miles tick by as he waited to see
his mate.

* * * *

Jeremiah woke to the sun shining brightly in the room. His

bedroom. He reached up, feeling the back of his head, and winced.
There was a large knot on the back of his head where Keegan had
struck him. A rumble vibrated in Jeremiah’s chest at the thought of
the beta attacking him.

“Lie still,” Sylvester said as he curled up into Jeremiah’s side.

“You need your rest.”

Jeremiah reached down and brushed the dark blond hair from

Sylvester’s face, smiling at his sleepy mate.

“I’m rested.”
Sylvester glanced up at him, giving him a no-nonsense glare.

“You’re going to rest. You have a knot on the back of your head and
smoke inhalation. It’s bad enough you were snuck out of the hospital.
So if you’re going to recuperate at home, then recuperate.”

Jeremiah lay back, thinking about waking up in the hospital. It

shocked the hell out of him and angered him beyond words to find out
from Sage that Keegan had tried to kill him by setting the hardware
store on fire.

The bastard was too cowardly to take Jeremiah on in a fight. He

had to knock Jeremiah out and set the damn building on fire.

“Stop scowling,” Sylvester said as he leaned up and rubbed his

fingers between Jeremiah’s eyes. “It doesn’t look good on you.”

“I know what would look good on me.”
“What?”
“You,” Jeremiah said as he flipped Sylvester over onto his

stomach and straddled his butt.

Jeremiah’s Heart

“You’re supposed to be resting, Jeremiah,” Sylvester

halfheartedly protested.

“Then you shouldn’t have crawled into bed next to me naked.”

Jeremiah reached down and circled his fingers around Sylvester’s
tight entrance. He grinned as he leaned forward, nipping Sylvester’s
ear. “And you shouldn’t have readied yourself for me, either.”
Jeremiah felt the lube at Sylvester’s hole.

“Maybe I was taking care of myself,” Sylvester once again

protested as he squirmed under Jeremiah. Just the thought of Sylvester
pleasuring himself had Jeremiah hard as steel.

“You’ll have to show me the next time you do that.” Jeremiah

pulled his hips back and lined his cock up, leisurely sinking in
between Sylvester’s soft mounds. His shaft was slowly being
surrounded by Sylvester’s heat, making Jeremiah groan.

“This is exactly what I need,” Jeremiah said as he inched his way

in.

Sylvester didn’t say a word. Jeremiah looked down to see his

mate’s eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. Scooting back to
Sylvester’s thighs, careful not to let his weight crush the man,
Jeremiah pulled back and then slid forward.

“I could so get used to this,” Sylvester said as he lay there with his

legs trapped between Jeremiah’s thighs.

Grabbing Sylvester’s flared cheeks in his hands, Jeremiah

separated them as he watched his cock disappear into Sylvester’s tight
channel. He ran his thumbs around the stretched skin, salivating at the
sight of his cock inside his mate’s ass.

His movements were unrushed. Jeremiah was enjoying the early

morning with his mate. He ran his hands down Sylvester’s back, the
tips of his fingers feeling every line, every nuance of his mate’s body.

“Can we stay like this forever?” Sylvester asked as he tucked his

hands under his face, resting. That sounded perfect to Jeremiah. He
never wanted to leave Sylvester’s side, or his ass. His mate’s body

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was a playground that Jeremiah wanted to explore for the rest of his
life.

“How about for the morning?” Jeremiah asked as he thrust his

cock into Sylvester, his head falling back as he moaned. Damn, he
never knew lazy fucking could feel this damn good. But he also knew
that soon it wouldn’t be enough. The edge was building inside of him,
and Jeremiah knew he was going to speed up.

“I love you, Jeremiah.” Sylvester moaned as he stretched his

body, canting his ass high into the air. Those four words had Jeremiah
pulling back, shoving Sylvester’s legs under his body as Jeremiah
grabbed his mate’s hips and plunged deeply.

“Yes!” Sylvester shouted as his legs spread apart. “Fuck me.”
Jeremiah reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Sylvester’s

hair, pulling at it as he rode his mate’s ass. The knot on the back of
his head started to throb, but Jeremiah ignored it as he thrust harder
into Sylvester.

“Make me come!”
Jeremiah leaned forward and bit into Sylvester’s neck, his head

spinning at the bond he felt growing stronger as Sylvester cried out,
his hole pulsing around Jeremiah’s cock. That was the edge Jeremiah
needed. He shouted as his seed was emptied into his mate, his cock
pulsing as Jeremiah leaned back.

Damn, what a way to start his day.
“I still say you should be resting,” Sylvester said as he stretched

and turned over, smiling up at Jeremiah. His pretty hazel eyes were
sparkling, making Sylvester even more stunning than he already was.

“I’m fine.” Jeremiah kissed Sylvester, licking a path across his

mate’s lip. “I love you, too, Sylvester.” Those words sounded foreign
to Jeremiah. He’d never told another living soul that he loved him.
But staring down at Sylvester, Jeremiah knew it to be true. He loved
his mate more than his own life.

“Breakfast?”

Jeremiah’s Heart

Jeremiah chuckled as he rolled to his side and then stood. He felt

ten times better than he did when he first woke in the hospital. Maybe
it had to do with his bout with Sylvester, or maybe it had to do with
getting some rest. It could be both, but he was just glad the splitting
headache was gone. “Now that sounds like a winner.”

After they dressed, Jeremiah tossed his arm over Sylvester’s

shoulder, basking in the glow of having his mate with him.

“Since when do you…cuddle?” Monterey asked as he watched

Jeremiah walk down the steps with his mate.

“Since when do you give a fuck?” he snapped, growling low at

Monterey. Just because he let his guard down and became a romantic
with his mate didn’t mean he took anyone’s bullshit. His niceness was
reserved for Sylvester.

“Another has fallen.” Monterey snickered as he walked to the

dining room.

“I need to talk to you, Jeremiah,” Sage said from the kitchen.
Jeremiah pulled his arm from around Sylvester’s shoulder when

he saw the grim look on Sage’s face. “Go get something to eat,”
Jeremiah said to his mate as he walked into the kitchen.

“What’s up?”
Sage crossed his arms over his chest, chewing the corner of his

lower lip as he glanced at Jeremiah. He wasn’t getting a good feeling
about this.

“Do you know your mate shifted and ran into the burning building

to save you?”

Jeremiah felt his gut instantly twist at the thought of Sylvester

putting himself in harm’s way. He wanted to be angry with Sylvester,
but knew the agonizing need to save one’s mate. He was still going to
have a long talk with Sylvester about his heroics. “No.”

Sage’s lip tilted in a grin. “Brave man you have. But that’s not

why I called you in here.”

Jeremiah took a seat at the small breakfast table as he waited for

Sage to continue.

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“Once the fire was extinguished and the humans left, I had a look

around the hardware store.”

“Can it be saved?” Jeremiah asked. It was the only building

suitable for his plans. If the place was destroyed beyond repair,
Jeremiah knew he would invest in having a hardware store built from
the ground up. All the other buildings hadn’t had the room or the
clearance in the back to house the supplies he would need to run a
hardware store.

“Sorry, but we’re going to have to tear it down the rest of the way.

The fire pretty much destroyed the place.”

Jeremiah groaned. It was going to take more time and more effort

than it was worth. But he knew in the long run that the hardware store
would be crucial to getting Mystery up and running again. Although
having residents would help.

“But that’s not why I called you in here, either.”
Jeremiah didn’t think he could handle any more news. What else

was there? His store was burnt to the ground, and his mate had risked
his damn life to save Jeremiah. That was about it in a nutshell.

“I sifted through the remains, trying to figure out what started the

blaze. I know the fire marshal gave his findings, but he was in and out
of there so quickly that I wanted to take a look for myself.”

“And?”
Sage reached up in the cupboard and pulled down a tin can. It was

old and battered, with soot and dirt covering it. When Sage set it on
the table, Jeremiah picked it up and examined it more closely. He
brushed the tin off, rubbing away the years of dirt, and revealed a very
familiar language. His head shot up as he stared at Sage in shock.

“This is from Romania.”
Sage nodded. “I found it inside one of the burnt walls. Carefully

open it up and inhale. Tell me what you smell.”

Jeremiah set the container down and gently pried the lid off. The

inside of the tin held some sort of powder. He lifted the can, sniffing
at first, and then inhaled deeply. “It’s Dog Rose.”

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sage nodded. “That’s the same thing I smelled.”
Jeremiah sat the can down, confused. “Why would someone have

powdered Dog Rose in a can?” That didn’t make any sense to
Jeremiah. Dog Rose, or Rosa Canina, was a healing plant. Why would
someone hide it in a wall? “Do you seriously think this is what
everyone’s after?”

Sage shrugged. “You know as well as I do that our ancestors

crossbred the plant. They experimented to the point that it’s no longer
just Dog Rose. I’m thinking maybe this is the cure everyone is after.”

Jeremiah pushed the can away. Whether it was the cure or not, he

liked being a werewolf. Jeremiah didn’t want to be human. “Keep it
away from me.”

Sage grabbed the lid from the table, replacing it snugly as he hid

the container back inside the cupboard. “If it is the cure, then we’ve
just discovered what an entire town died for. I’m not sure how
Brody’s father planned on using it, but I think we need to find out.”

“Why?” Jeremiah asked as he stood. “Do you want to be human? I

sure as shit don’t. I’m proud to be a vârcolac and wouldn’t change
that for anything.”

“Calm down, J. I wasn’t talking about trying it out on us. I was

thinking about the humans that my father converts. What if we can
save them? What if we can reverse what Martin does to them? It
should be a choice, not something that is forced on someone. Besides,
we can’t be cured, J. We were born werewolves, not turned.”

“What, do you want to try it on Sylvester?” Jeremiah could feel

his rage mounting. His mate had already been used as a guinea pig.
There was no way he was going to allow Sage or anyone else to
subject Sylvester to any more experiments.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, J. I would never use a mate to

experiment on. I’m referring to anyone who has been injected or
bitten against their will.”

Jeremiah sat back, blowing out a heavy breath as he ran his hand

down his face. Since when did being a werewolf become so

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complicated? What happened to the simple times? Ever since Martin
disowned Sage, things seemed to be on a high-speed course to out of
control. Nothing felt familiar or sane anymore. “How do you propose
we find out if this is the cure or not?”

“Marshall Kell,” Sage announced.
“You want to ask that crazy bastard to help?” Marshall was

Martin’s pack doctor. But he was also known as the werewolf who
liked to do a lot of scientific research. The man stayed locked up in
his office so much with his test tubes and beakers that Jeremiah had
thought the man a myth growing up. Marshall was also a little off.
Maybe it was from his seclusion. Maybe it was a genetic defect. No
one really knew. “How do you know he’ll do this for you? He is your
father’s pack doctor after all.”

“Doctor Kell’s first loyalty is to science. Everyone knows this. If I

tell him I may have found the cure that everyone is after, he’ll pack
his bags and come running.”

“But you would have to warn him not to say anything to anyone,”

Jeremiah reminded him.

“That’s a given,” Sage said as he leaned his head back and looked

up at the ceiling. “He’ll probably have to leave in the middle of the
night, under the cover of darkness. But I’m pretty sure I can get him
here.”

Jeremiah hoped so. If Martin found out they were taking his pack

doctor, all hell would break loose. He had a feeling that it was Doctor
Kell who supplied Martin with the injection in the first place. It was a
chance they had to take. Remembering the absolute pain Sylvester
had gone through when he had been injected with Martin’s
experiment made Jeremiah want to vomit.

No one else should suffer like that. He wondered if Doctor Kell

even knew what the drug did to a person. Jeremiah prayed that
Marshall wasn’t the one who created it, or they could be inviting pure
evil into their home.

Jeremiah’s Heart

As much as Jeremiah wanted to protest, and as many unknown

variables as there were, he knew finding a cure was imperative.

“Sam called,” Sage said as he looked over at Jeremiah. “He

secured your blood and is bringing it to me. Unfortunately he wants
answers to what is going on before he’ll hand it over.”

Things just seemed to be getting better and better. He hoped like

hell Sam got every last drop, or their problems were only just
beginning.

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Chapter Eight

Sylvester stood at the living room window, watching as the sheriff

pulled into the driveway. Jeremiah had told him everything he and
Sage talked about, and Sylvester felt so out of his depth that he
wondered if reality would ever come back to him.

Nothing seemed real. Nothing was normal any longer. It seemed

that as soon as he absorbed something new, and was just settling into
the idea, something else slammed into him, sending him careening out
of control. Sylvester wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. His
life had taken a turn down an unfamiliar road full of werewolves and
villains, and there seemed to be no end.

Jeremiah was a werewolf. Sylvester was now a werewolf. The

alpha was out to convert as many humans as possible. Sam was
stealing werewolf blood from the hospital. And now some nutty
doctor was coming here for some supposed cure. Sylvester’s head was
hurting more and more the longer he thought about all of this.

He rubbed his temples, turning away from the window and taking

a seat on the couch. There was a throbbing in the front of his skull
that seemed to be intensifying as the days wore on. He heard the
knock at the front door, but ignored it as he nursed his headache.

“Coming,” Isaac shouted as he walked by the living room and

answered the front door. Sylvester lay down on the couch, wishing he
had an aspirin right about now. The dull throb made his eyes hurt.

“You okay?” Isaac asked as he came into the living room.
“Fine, just a headache.” Sylvester turned over, blocking out the

light that seemed to make his head hurt worse.

“I’ll get you some aspirin and a cold cloth.”

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sylvester didn’t answer the wolf. His head was beginning to hurt

much worse. He was starting to wonder if it was the stress of
everything that was happening or if something was wrong with him.

“Here,” Isaac said a few moments later. Sylvester rolled over and

then vomited. His head felt as though it were splitting apart. The pain
shot from the back of his head, around the front, and then down his
arms. His eyes felt dry and painful.

“Jeremiah!” Isaac shouted as Sylvester dropped to the floor,

emptying his stomach. His body was racked with pain as he grabbed
his head, holding it tightly because it felt like it was going to explode.

“Sylvester, what’s wrong?” Jeremiah asked as he knelt beside

him.

“My head,” Sylvester cried as he leaned back. Hot, wet tears

streaked down his face as he dug the palms of his hands into his head.

“I want you to shift, baby. I need you to shift into your werewolf

form,” Jeremiah instructed.

“Sam. I can’t.”
“Screw Sam. I need you to shift, Sylvester.”
Sylvester wasn’t sure that he could. He couldn’t concentrate

enough to think of his other form. The pain was just too much. He felt
arms wrap around him, and then he was placed on the couch.
Jeremiah cupped his face and made Sylvester look at him.

“Concentrate, love. Think about your other form. Breathe.”
Sylvester panted as he closed his eyes. The pain began to radiate

throughout his body as he tried his damndest to think of his werewolf
form. He felt himself growing as the pain began to lessen. It didn’t
fully leave him, but it wasn’t crippling any longer.

“What the fuck?”
Sylvester opened his eyes and saw Sam standing in the hallway

just outside the living room. His jaw was hanging open, and his eyes
were extremely wide. If his head wasn’t still hurting, Sylvester would
laugh at the image Sam made.

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“Better?” Jeremiah asked as he leaned his forehead against

Sylvester’s.

“Much, but it still hurts slightly.” Sylvester didn’t think he would

ever get used to his gravelly voice in this form. He didn’t think he
would get used to any of this. He had stepped into a strange and
bizarre world, and he knew there was no going back.

“Good. Let me take you upstairs to rest,” Jeremiah said gently as

he lifted Sylvester from the couch and took him upstairs. He could see
Sam watching him as Jeremiah ascended the steps. He wanted to…he
wasn’t sure, but Sam looked so damn lost.

“Have you had these headaches before?” Jeremiah asked as he

laid Sylvester on their bed.

“Yesterday when you were in the fire. Right before William

shouted there was a fire in Mystery, my head began to hurt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jeremiah asked as he tucked the

blankets around Sylvester.

“I really didn’t think anything of it. With the fire and saving you,

then the hospital, a headache was the last thing on my mind.”
Sylvester had thought it was a normal headache and dismissed it.
Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Get some rest, babe. I’m not going anywhere. When your

headache eases, shift back into your human form, but let me know if it
gets worse.”

Sylvester nodded as he turned over, closing his eyes and praying

the pain didn’t return.

* * * *

Sam stared in utter disbelief as Jeremiah took…what the hell had

Sylvester turned into? Had he really seen what he thought he saw?

“I guess I don’t need to tell you what’s going on now,” Sage said

from behind him. “So give me Jeremiah’s blood.”

Jeremiah’s Heart

Sam swung around, pointing at the steps. “Oh no, you are telling

me what the hell I just saw.”

Sage smirked, his expression one of dry amusement. “What do

you think you saw?”

“Don’t play games with me, Sage, because I’m five seconds from

freaking the hell out. Now tell me what just happened.” Sam looked
back up the steps, but Jeremiah and…Sylvester were gone. Okay, his
brain was trying to tell him that he saw a
blond…wolf…thing…man…sort of, but he wasn’t sure what the hell
to think.

“Are you sure you want to know, Sheriff? Because once I tell you,

there’s no going back. You’ll be just as deep in this as we are.”

Did he want to know? Did Sam want to get pulled into something

so strange, so weird that he might wish he had answered no? “Yes.”

Sage crossed his arms over his chest as he shrugged. “We’re

werewolves. We are men who can shift into werewolves. We come
from Romania. If we bite you, you turn into a werewolf. My father is
out to convert as many humans as he can, and we’re out to stop him.
He has made a drug that he can inject into humans to convert them
without biting them. He converted Sylvester, but it may have gone
wrong from the pain he’s experiencing. We’re settling in Mystery and
plan to stay for a very long time. Happy?”

Good god, why hadn’t he said no? Sam stared up at Sage and

wanted to laugh. This had to be a joke. But it wasn’t. He had seen
Sylvester change right before his very eyes. Sam felt a little light-
headed as he tried to absorb everything Sage just told him.

“And Pat?” Sam asked Sage.
Sage gave a slight nod of his head.
Oh, hell. Why hadn’t he just said no?
“If you tell our secret, I’ll know. And Sam,” Sage said as he

stepped closer, very long canines appearing in his mouth. “I’ll know
where to find you.”

Why hadn’t he just said no?

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* * * *

A week had passed since Sylvester’s headache and Jeremiah stood

guard at the back door as Doctor Marshall Kell was ushered into the
back door and down into the basement where a room was built for
him. It wasn’t the best of accommodations, but it would have to do.

Sylvester’s headaches came and went, some more severe than

others. Jeremiah was going crazy with worry that something terrible
was wrong with his mate. Sylvester wasn’t converted the normal way,
and there was no telling what was going on inside his body.

But he prayed Kell would know.
As soon as Sage helped the doctor settle in, he brought the man

upstairs to Jeremiah’s bedroom.

“He’s been having headaches for a week?” Kell asked.
“Yeah,” Jeremiah confirmed. “Some are just a low throb, some

are head splitting.”

“I’ll need to take some blood samples.”
Jeremiah grabbed Kell by his shirtfront, growling out his threat.

“Try any experimenting on him and I’ll feed you your balls.”

“I’m not the one who invented the injection, Jeremiah. Martin

found someone else for that. As much as I love dabbling in science, I
would never have created such an abomination. Martin knew this.
That’s why he went elsewhere.”

Jeremiah grunted as he released Kell. “Then fix my mate.”
“Why does everyone think a doctor is god? I’ll examine his blood

and run some tests. But without the injection to test, I’m not sure how
far I will get.”

Jeremiah ground his molars. He didn’t want to hear any excuses.

He wanted Sylvester whole again. “Just fix him.”

Kell rolled his eyes, but headed toward the bed. Jeremiah stayed

behind the doctor, watching everything the man did and every move

Jeremiah’s Heart

he made. If the man so much as sneezed the wrong way, Jeremiah had
no qualms about taking the doctor’s head off of his shoulders.

The doctor extracted a few tubes of blood and examined

Sylvester, and then left the bedroom. Jeremiah wanted his mate fixed
now, but he knew that was impossible. It hurt his heart to see his mate
in pain, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Having
Sylvester shift only helped so much.

“How are you feeling today?” Jeremiah asked as he sat on the side

of the bed, curling his fingers in. It was hard not to reach out and
touch his mate, comfort him. But Jeremiah had learned over the past
week that sometimes even the slightest touch hurt Sylvester.

“Good,” Sylvester replied as he pushed himself up and leaned

against the headboard. “It doesn’t hurt today.”

Jeremiah was relieved to hear his mate wasn’t in pain. It was a

werewolf’s worst nightmare to watch his mate writhe around in
agony, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do. Jeremiah would
take Sylvester’s place in a heartbeat if he could.

“Hungry?”
“Famished,” Sylvester said as he rubbed his stomach.
“I’ll bring you something light. I don’t want you throwing up

again.” Jeremiah left his mate to go get him something to eat. He was
pretty sure Pat would be more than happy to make something for
Sylvester. Every wolf in the house was worried about Jeremiah’s
mate. A werewolf knew how important a mate was and what could
happen to a vârcolac if he lost his mate.

“Hey, Pat,” Jeremiah called out as he saw Pat round the corner

into the kitchen. He poked his head back around.

“Hey, how does your mate feel?”
“Better. He’s hungry. Can you make him something light to eat?”

Jeremiah walked into the kitchen to see that Pat had already made
lunch. He grabbed a slice of roast beef and quickly ate it. Jeremiah
didn’t want to take it upstairs while his mate was eating something
light. He didn’t want to torture the man.

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“Coming right up,” Pat said as he grabbed some soup broth and a

sleeve of crackers. Jeremiah wished his mate could eat more, but he
knew Sylvester may not be able to handle anything heavier.

As soon as the broth was heated, Pat made a tray for Sylvester.

Well, hell, he could have done that. Sometimes Jeremiah wondered
just how inept he was in the kitchen. He was thinking more along the
lines of mashed potatoes or a grilled cheese, but Pat had the tray filled
and looking good by the time he was done.

“Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks.” Jeremiah grabbed the tray and took it upstairs,

shouldering the door open as he walked into his bedroom. Sylvester
was sitting up, licking his lips as Jeremiah positioned the tray on his
mate’s lap.

“It’s hot,” he warned.
“I’m so hungry that this broth is going to taste like steak.”

Sylvester grinned as he dipped his spoon into the bowl.

Yeah, Jeremiah was glad he didn’t bring any roast beef upstairs.

Sylvester would have been all over it and then throwing it up five
minutes later. He just hoped the smell wasn’t on his breath.

“Do you think I can get some fresh air?” Sylvester asked as he

finished the last of the broth.

“Do you want me to open a window?” It was a bit chilly out, the

cold wind would blow through here and cool the heated room, but
Jeremiah knew what it felt like to feel trapped. He had been injured as
a small child, breaking his leg. It had been agonizing to hear the other
kids outside playing when he had been stuck in the house with a cast
on his leg.

“No.” Sylvester shook his head as he set the tray aside. “I want to

go outside for just a little bit.”

Jeremiah wasn’t too sure about that, but Sylvester had been locked

up in the bedroom for a week. He didn’t see any real harm in his mate
getting some fresh air. “Just for a few minutes until the doctor is done
with his tests.”

Jeremiah’s Heart

Jeremiah watched as Sylvester dressed, wondering how someone

so slim could have stolen Jeremiah’s heart. If the decision had been
left up to him, he probably wouldn’t have claimed Sylvester. Not that
the man wasn’t mate-worthy, just that Jeremiah would have thought
he was too prickly, too sour for Sylvester. Maybe fate intervened and
sent him the human.

“I’m ready,” Sylvester announced once he pulled the thick

sweater over his head. Jeremiah reached out and brushed his mate’s
dark blond locks aside.

“If you feel any pain, tell me. I don’t want you suffering.”

Jeremiah held his arm out, and Sylvester wound his arm through it,
holding on as Jeremiah took him down the steps. As they passed
through the kitchen, Pat smiled at Sylvester.

“Getting some fresh air?”
“Before I go crazy.” Sylvester grinned as Jeremiah walked him

toward the back door.

“I’ll make you some hot tea.”
“Thanks,” Sylvester called out as Jeremiah led his mate to the

back porch.

“I’ll get you a chair and the tea.”
Sylvester smiled up at Jeremiah, setting his heart to racing. The

man had that effect on Jeremiah. With one smile, one moan, or even
one kiss, Sylvester made Jeremiah’s knees shake.

“You don’t have to coddle me. I told you I feel fine today.”
He could see that his mate was telling the truth. His skin didn’t

have that sickly look to it, and his eyes weren’t a dull hazel anymore.
They were shimmering with contentment as Sylvester kept smiling up
at him. “I still want to get you something to sit on and something to
warm your insides.”

Wow. Jeremiah realized in that second that his whole demeanor

had changed since mating Sylvester. Now that he thought about it, he
really hadn’t been that prickly or snarly…much.

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He kissed the side of Sylvester’s head as he walked into the

kitchen to grab a chair and the tea Pat said he would make. Jeremiah
still worried about his mate, but he was glad Sylvester was feeling
better today. The last week had played havoc on his nerves, and
Jeremiah wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He hated to see
Sylvester like this. He wanted to see his mate’s smile and hear his
laughter once more.

“Here you go,” Pat said as he handed Jeremiah the steaming cup

of tea.

“Have you heard from Sam?”
Pat’s face darkened as he shook his head. “Nothing.” He turned

away from Jeremiah, but not before he caught a glimpse of tears
sparkling in Pat’s eyes. Jeremiah knew it was a lot for Sam to take in,
but that still didn’t stop him from wanting to go find the man and kick
his ass for making Pat so sad.

“Let me know if you need anything.”
Pat spun around, his mouth slightly hanging open. “Jeremiah

Edwards, you are actually showing signs that you’re human.”

Jeremiah snarled lightly at Pat before heading back out to the

porch. Just because he never showed any real emotions around these
men didn’t mean he didn’t care. He had grown up with the five men.
There was no way he didn’t care about them. He just hated that Pat
was waving that fact in his face.

The teacup fell from Jeremiah’s hand, crashing to the floor of the

porch as his heart felt like it had stuttered to a stop.

Where in the hell was Sylvester?

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101

Chapter Nine

Sylvester sniffed the air as he walked through the woods. That

sweet smell was back and stronger than before. It pulled him away
from the house like a siren of the night beckoning him. In the back of
his mind he knew he shouldn’t have left the safety of his home, but
the scent wasn’t like anything he had ever smelled before, and his
body flowed toward it regardless of what Sylvester wanted to do.

As his feet crunched over the hard earth, Sylvester felt like he was

in some sort of trance. He wanted to turn back, to turn away from that
alluring scent, but his body kept right on moving toward the smell.

His heart beat out of control the further away from home he

walked, but he just couldn’t stop his feet from moving in the opposite
direction of Jeremiah. He could hear someone approaching, gaining
on him, but that only made Sylvester move more quickly.

He had to get to that scent. Sylvester wanted to wrap it around

him and bathe in its sweetness. He just had to know what it was.

“That’s right. Come to me.”
Sylvester saw a stranger standing there, smiling at him with a

cold, hard smile. Every self-preservation mechanism Sylvester
possessed screamed for him to run, but the sweet scent pulled him
closer to the man standing in the middle of the woods.

“Martin wasn’t done with you yet, human.”
Sylvester swallowed hard, hearing the sound echo in the woods,

but his feet kept right on walking toward the man. He wanted to
scream for Jeremiah. He wanted to run as fast as his legs would carry
him in the opposite direction, but the scent once again pulled him
forward.

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“Let’s get you out of here before your mate finds you missing.”
Sylvester whimpered with terror, but followed behind the man.

What was that scent? Why was it making him follow a complete
stranger whose eyes were colder than the air around them?

“No,” Sylvester cried softly, trying his best to make his body turn

back around.

“You can’t fight it,” the man stated as he began to walk away,

Sylvester helplessly following. “The injection you were given makes
it impossible for you to resist. It was created that way, so any of our
little escapees can be found. You’ll always come to me, Sylvester.”

Sylvester’s heart thundered in his chest at the cold laugh that filled

the air around him. He couldn’t remember ever being this scared, not
even when Martin had him before. This took fear to a new level.
Sylvester had no control over his body.

None.
His mind was reeling, but his body was craving whatever that

sweet scent was. Inside, Sylvester raged. Outside, he was as docile as
a lamb. And he hated it. He wanted to tear into the man leading him
away from his home and watch his blood saturate the ground.

“Oh, my little guinea pig, we have such plans for you.” The man

seemed practically giddy.

Sylvester tried to gather enough motor control to at least spit on

the man, but it just dribbled down his chin. His entire body shuddered
with disgust when the man touched the side of his face. He didn’t
want anyone but Jeremiah touching him.

“We’re going to have so much fun with you.”
“Not today.”
Sylvester wanted to cry at the sound of his mate’s voice. It was

music to his ears. The rough, gravelly sound washed over him,
making Sylvester fight to turn around.

“Keegan.”
“Jeremiah,” Keegan sneered. “It doesn’t matter if you take him

from me. Sooner or later he’ll get away from you and follow me to

Jeremiah’s Heart

103

the ends of the earth. There isn’t a damn thing you can do about it,
mutt.”

Jeremiah roared as he shifted, his muzzle elongating as sharp

claws extended from his fingers. Sylvester watched as dark hair
sprouted all over Jeremiah’s body as he grew. But Sylvester was still
stuck, his body fighting to get to that scent.

But at least now he knew what the scent was…sort of. It was

something inside of Keegan, luring him to the man. He had said the
injection Sylvester was forced to receive was what made the trance
happen. Had the man injected himself with something else to make
the chemicals inside of Sylvester react to that scent?

“Until next time, mutt,” Keegan called out as he ran deeper into

the woods. The further the away the man ran, the more in control of
his body Sylvester felt.

Jeremiah looked as if he was about to give chase, but then looked

down at Sylvester and gave a low growl.

“Why did you come out here?”
Sylvester rubbed his temples as a low throb began in the front of

his head. “It was that scent again, Jeremiah. I tried to fight it, I did.
But it was as if my body had a mind of its own. That man had said
that it was impossible for me to fight it because of the injection I was
given. That it was created that way.”

Sylvester didn’t want to have an argument with Jeremiah. His

head was hurting too badly, and he hated when Jeremiah was mad at
him. Even the smallest disapproval didn’t sit right with him.

“Your head hurts.” Jeremiah, still in his werewolf form, picked

Sylvester up and carried him back to the house. Sylvester settled
against Jeremiah’s furry chest, wondering if the madness would ever
end. He hated that the choice had been taken from him. He hated that
he had willingly gone to a stranger instead of staying on the porch.
But most of all, Sylvester hated that Keegan had that power over him.

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Sylvester wanted to be able to make his own choices, and he was

so very tired of people taking them away from him. The only thing he
wanted was a happy life with Jeremiah. Was that too much to ask for?

Jeremiah carried him through the back door, taking him into the

living room, and then sat him down on the couch. “Sage,” Jeremiah
walked to the hallway and called out. The loud voice made his head
prickle with pain.

“Yeah?” Sage asked as he came down the stairs.
“We have a huge problem. Sylvester smelled that sweet scent

again and followed it.”

Sage cursed as he glanced over at Sylvester.
“It was Keegan.” Jeremiah stood there and explained to Sage what

had just happened and what Keegan had told him. Hearing it out loud
made Sylvester whimper. He sounded like a weak man following
behind someone like a lost puppy, a stranger no less. He wanted to
curl up and forget the strange world he now lived in.

“So there is something inside Keegan that lures anyone who has

been injected to him?” Sage asked in astonishment.

“It seems that way.”
Just as Jeremiah finished talking, the doctor walked into the living

room. “I have bad news and bad news. Which one do you want first?”

Sylvester groaned. This wasn’t turning out to be his day.
“Just tell me,” Jeremiah snapped as Sylvester rubbed his temples.

The pain was getting worse. His head was thumping now, his temples
throbbing under the tips of his fingers.

“Well, the good-bad news is that I can cure Sylvester’s headaches,

which, by the way, will only get worse if I don’t. But the bad part
about that is that I have to inject the cure into his blood. Your
vârcolac DNA has fused with Sylvester’s human DNA, but there is
something that is attacking his red blood cells. It’s some sort of strain
that I haven’t pinpointed or isolated yet. But I have found a way to
liquefy the Dog Rose so that it can be injected. But in curing
Sylvester…” The doctor paused to look from Jeremiah to Sylvester.

Jeremiah’s Heart

105

This was not going to be something Sylvester wanted to hear. He just
knew it.

“But in curing Sylvester, that’s where the bad-bad news comes in.

By injecting Sylvester with the cure, it will wipe out his werewolf
DNA, severing the bond between you two. Jeremiah, Sylvester will
no longer be your mate. He will be one hundred percent human
again.”

Sylvester’s chest tightened, and he felt like he was going to vomit.

The one good thing in all of this was belonging to Jeremiah. The man
had been forced to mate Sylvester in order to save him, but to lose
him felt like death.

“I do have good news, however,” the doctor went on. “If you bite

him the old-fashioned way, you can claim him, and he will indeed
become a werewolf again.”

Sylvester’s head snapped up, a small twinge of hope filling him.

He could still be Jeremiah’s? Sylvester sat there cradling his head and
prayed Jeremiah really wanted him.

* * * *

Jeremiah felt like the rug was being pulled from under him. He

felt off-balance and sick to his stomach. He knew that mating
Sylvester had been less than ideal. The circumstances had brought it
about, not the fact that Sylvester had chosen to be converted and
mated.

Would his mate willingly choose to be Jeremiah’s mate once

more? Or would he run as fast as he could from Jeremiah and
Mystery? He couldn’t bear to look at his mat—Sylvester right now.
He feared what he would see in the man’s eyes.

“Is the cure safe for him?” That was the only thing that mattered

to Jeremiah at the moment. The feeling of utter and total loss clawed
at him, but Jeremiah suppressed that feeling. He had to worry about
getting Sylvester better first. The doctor said that his headaches would

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only get worse, and Jeremiah hadn’t thought that possible from the
way Sylvester had thrown up and screamed as he held his head a few
days ago.

“The Dog Rose has been crossbred until it barely resembles the

original plant, but our ancestors knew what they were doing. It is
perfectly safe for him,” the doctor said as he paced back and forth in
hurried steps. “The problem is, we don’t have enough for everyone
who has been injected with Martin’s abomination. I can save ten,
maybe twelve at the most unless I can duplicate the serum.”

“Give it to him,” Jeremiah said dejectedly as he began to walk up

the stairs. Curing Sylvester of his headaches and his trance-induced
state was more important to Jeremiah at the moment. He would take
his feelings out later and examine them when he was alone. Losing
his mate when his mate was standing in the living room was just too
much for him to bear right now.

“I’ll need your help, Jeremiah,” the doctor called up to him. “The

cure isn’t a walk in the park. Sylvester will need you.”

Jeremiah curled his fingers in as he stood on the steps. Was the

doctor really asking him to stand there and watch him inject
something into Sylvester that would sever their bond? Could he be
strong enough to do that?

Sighing, Jeremiah walked back down the steps. He knew he

would do anything to stop his mat—Sylvester from being in pain,
even if it was going to kill him to do so.

“Bring him downstairs.”
Jeremiah walked to the couch, feeling as if he was walking to his

very own death as he scooped the man into his arms and carried him
down the basement steps. Sylvester wouldn’t even look up at him.
Jeremiah’s heart was breaking into a thousand pieces, and there was
nothing he could do to stop the pain that was taking over.

“Place him on the table.”

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Jeremiah glanced at the steel table Sage had purchased for the

doctor. It looked cold and unwelcoming, and Jeremiah felt that if he
placed Sylvester on the metal table, he would lose him forever.

Steeling himself, Jeremiah walked closer and then laid his mate

down. Sylvester looked away. Jeremiah wanted to grab the man and
run as far and as fast as he could. He didn’t want the bond to be
severed. He wanted Sylvester to be his mate more than he wanted to
live.

The doctor approached the table, cleaned Sylvester’s arm with an

alcohol swab, and then injected the cure into Sylvester. As the plunger
to the needle sank, so did Jeremiah’s stomach. This was it. There was
no going back.

He expected Sylvester to cry out in pain, but the man just lay

there, shaking. As Jeremiah reached out to soothe Sylvester, he
growled and then gripped the side of the table until his knuckles were
white.

Inside his very own body, Jeremiah could feel his nerve endings,

and they felt as if they were being torn away from him. Jeremiah
clung to the table as his knees buckled, and his chest felt as though a
chasm was opening up and swallowing him in.

He could feel Sylvester leaving him, draining away as blackness

replaced the bond he had shared with the man who had touched a part
of Jeremiah in a way no other had. The severing was taking place, and
Jeremiah shouted out his grief. He howled as the warmth that the
bond had encompassed him in turned ice-cold.

“Jeremiah,” the doctor called out, but Jeremiah wasn’t listening.

He ran up the steps and out the back door, tears streaming down his
face at such an overwhelming loss that he felt as though he were
dying. It was too damn much. Jeremiah stepped off of the back porch
and ran. He ran until he was blinded by his tears, but still continued
on.

He was mateless.
He was dying inside.

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He was alone now.

* * * *

Santana stood at the back door, his hands covering his mouth as

the tears rolled down his cheeks. He had never before heard anyone
cry out in such agonizing misery to the point it made Santana’s heart
ache.

He didn’t know what he would do if his bond with Isaac was ever

severed, and he never wanted to find out. The pain he saw on
Jeremiah’s face was burned into his brain for all time.

“Will he come back?” he turned and asked Pat. The man was

standing there wiping his eyes as he nodded.

“Jeremiah will be back. Even though Sylvester is no longer his

mate, the human is in his very blood.”

Santana prayed the man was right. He had seen how Sylvester and

Jeremiah looked at one another. There was nothing but love in their
eyes every time one looked at the other. But to be ripped away like
that had to be devastating to say the least.

Santana walked from the kitchen, seeking his mate out. He wanted

Isaac’s comforting arms around him, letting him know that their bond
was still in place and strong.

* * * *

Sylvester lay on the cold table, feeling numb. Jeremiah had run as

soon as the bond had dissolved. It felt like the warmth inside of him
was gone now, never to return. He turned onto his side, curling up
into a ball. If Jeremiah no longer wanted him, what was he going to
do? Sylvester wanted to be nowhere else but in the same place
Jeremiah was.

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“Just lay here until you feel well enough to get up.” The doctor

patted Sylvester’s arm. It was a comforting gesture, but one Sylvester
didn’t want. He would never be comforted from the devastating loss.

“I’m fine,” he said as he pushed himself up and then stood.

“Thank you.” Thanking he man was the last thing Sylvester wanted to
do. Thanking the doctor was like thanking him for tearing Jeremiah
away from him.

As Sylvester climbed the steps, he felt as if Jeremiah had run

away with his happiness.

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Chapter Ten

Jeremiah sat at the kitchen table, feeling nothing. Sylvester had

slipped into their bedroom and had been in hiding for five days now.
Jeremiah slept on the couch, wondering what he was going to do. The
man hadn’t looked at him since the doctor had announced that their
bond would be severed, and hadn’t made a peep from the bedroom
since. Pat had taken the man his food, but no one else had spoken to
him.

The change was in less than two weeks, and Jeremiah wondered if

Sylvester still wanted to be mates. He still kept the capability to shift
at will, but that was a small consolation compared to what he had lost.

“Jeremiah,” Pat started again. Every time the werewolf had tried

to console Jeremiah, he walked away. What was there to console?

“Don’t start, Pat.” He didn’t want to hear it.
“I was just going to remind you that a man who runs into a

burning building without thought to his own safety is screaming love
and devotion. You should talk to him. How do you know he isn’t
upstairs worried that you don’t want him? I know that man loves you.
You’re an idiot if you think otherwise.”

“But he wouldn’t even look at me when the bond was severed.”
Pat slammed the palms of his hands on the table, glaring at

Jeremiah. “Maybe he was worried you would reject him. Instead of
comforting him, letting him know you still wanted him, your dumb
ass ran away. What was he supposed to think?”

Jeremiah growled. The thought of going upstairs and begging

Sylvester to be his mate gnawed at his very core. What if Sylvester

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laughed in his face and proclaimed his freedom? Jeremiah wasn’t sure
he could handle that.

But he wasn’t doing so well handling the loneliness either. It was

eating him up inside and spitting him out mercilessly.

“Have you heard from Sam?”
Pat’s lips thinned. “Don’t you dare change the subject on me. Go

upstairs and tell Sylvester how you feel. Let him know that you want
him as your mate or I’ll kick your sorry ass all the way up the stairs,
Jeremiah Edwards.”

He hated when Pat used his full name. It felt like he was being

scolded by one of his parents. Jeremiah stood, taking in a few deep
breaths for courage, and then walked up the steps. Once again he had
the feeling that he was walking to his doom.

Pushing the bedroom door open, Jeremiah saw Sylvester curled up

on the bed, the blankets covering his lower half. The man didn’t move
as Jeremiah closed the bedroom door and crossed the room. He stood
at the edge of the bed, staring down at the man who had the power to
make or break him. It was a scary thought. Jeremiah had never given
anyone that kind of power over his life, his happiness before.

Climbing onto the bed, Jeremiah curled his larger frame around

Sylvester, holding on as he prayed the man didn’t reject him. “I want
you to be my mate, Sylvester.”

A small sob left Sylvester as his body shook. Jeremiah wasn’t sure

how to take it. Did the idea sadden Sylvester? Was the man up here
trying to figure out a way to tell Jeremiah good-bye? Jeremiah
couldn’t take the not knowing. He turned Sylvester over, seeing the
man’s bloodshot eyes.

“Please tell me I’m not dreaming this,” Sylvester begged as he

wrapped his arms around Jeremiah’s neck. He was a little surprised.
Sylvester wanted to be his mate?

Jeremiah had to know the answer to the question that had been

gnawing away at him for a week. “Why did you turn away from me
when the doctor was giving you the injection?”

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“Because,” Sylvester said as he buried his face deeper into

Jeremiah’s neck, “I thought you would be happy to get rid of me.”

Jeremiah pressed his lips into Sylvester’s dark blond hair. “Why

would you think that, Sylvester? I love you.”

This only made Sylvester cry harder. Jeremiah was confused as

hell. Was Sylvester crying because he was happy? “I want to claim
you, Sylvester. I want to make you my mate once more. Will you
accept that? Do you want that?”

Sylvester nodded as he pulled away. “More than anything in this

world.”

Jeremiah grinned, his heart feeling as though it were beating

again. “I wish I had known that five days ago.”

Sylvester laughed and then grabbed Jeremiah’s shoulders, pulling

him forward for a kiss that made Jeremiah melt into his mate. His
mate. God, that sounded so damn good to him. Jeremiah growled low
and then broke the kiss, pulling his shirt over his head. Sylvester
leaned forward, attaching his lips to Jeremiah’s nipple, sucking and
biting until Jeremiah thought his cock would explode.

“I have something else you can suck on,” he teased as Sylvester

pulled away. He could see the want swimming in his mate’s eyes as
Sylvester pulled his clothes off. Jeremiah stood, doing the same until
he was standing there stark naked. “Come here, love.”

Sylvester scooted from the bed, dropping to his knees right in

front of Jeremiah. He never thought he would have another chance
with his mate, and to see him on his knees, just damn.

Swallowing Jeremiah to the root, Sylvester hummed and moaned,

making Jeremiah’s toes curl and his eyes roll back. His cock was
buried deep inside Sylvester’s warm, moist mouth, and he didn’t want
to ever leave it.

Well, maybe for his ass.
Jeremiah definitely planned on sinking deeply into Sylvester’s ass.

That was a given. He could feel his canines aching to sink into

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Sylvester’s flesh, but Jeremiah wanted so much more before he
claimed the man…again.

His fingers curled into Sylvester’s hair as he began to fuck his

mate’s hot mouth. Every time the head of his cock touched the back
of Sylvester’s throat, he groaned out loud. His mate’s mouth was
heaven.

Jeremiah grabbed the base, stroking it as Sylvester sucked him

off. He knew that if he came, he would be hard again within seconds.
Nothing like the knowledge of claiming the man he loved would keep
him from being anything but hard as steel.

Sylvester pulled back, his tongue trailing over the head and then

down Jeremiah’s shaft, licking at his fingers as Jeremiah stroked his
cock harder, faster. Sylvester dipped his head, lapping at Jeremiah’s
balls, making them draw up tight to his body as an electrical force of
epic proportions built up inside of him.

“Suck my cock, mate. I’m about to come,” Jeremiah pled as his

strokes became uncoordinated and sloppy. When Sylvester’s lips
wrapped back around his dick, creating a seal as he sucked
vigorously, Jeremiah shouted, his body exploding as his seed shot
down the back of Sylvester’s throat.

Fuck, that took the edge off. Now he could concentrate on

claiming his mate. Jeremiah’s cock was still hard even though he had
come down Sylvester’s throat.

“Claim me,” Sylvester begged as he stood. “Make me yours

again.”

Jeremiah planned on it. He spun Sylvester around, pressing the

man’s chest into the mattress as he kicked his mate’s legs apart.
Sylvester looked edible bent over the side of the bed. Jeremiah could
feel his beast roaring inside of him to get free.

“I’ll have to partially shift, love,” Jeremiah said as he knelt behind

Sylvester, licking at each flared mound. “My werewolf is the one who
has to claim you.”

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“Then let him claim me.” Sylvester moaned as he wiggled his ass

cheeks around, teasing Jeremiah with the perfection of the twin
beauties. He nipped and licked as he allowed the change to take place.

“Stretch yourself for me, mate.” His voice was rough, guttural as

he leaned back and watched Sylvester slide his fingers into his ass.
Jeremiah’s cock jerked at the sight. His tongue flicked out, getting in
on the play as Sylvester groaned, stretching his ass for Jeremiah’s
cock.

His hands slid up Sylvester’s ass. Jeremiah was careful of his

claws as he squeezed and licked, enjoying the taste of his mate’s
musky scent.

“I’m ready,” Sylvester said as he began to remove his fingers.
“No, you are not,” Jeremiah said as he pressed his mate’s hand

back into his tight entrance. “You’ll need more than two fingers,
mate.”

Sylvester growled softly, making Jeremiah smile at the feeble

attempt as he slid a third finger into his ass. Jeremiah leaned forward,
lapping around Sylvester’s fingers as they plunged in and out of his
mate’s body.

“Jeremiah,” Sylvester whimpered. “Please.”
Nipping his mate on one cheek, Jeremiah stood and grabbed his

mate’s hips, thrusting his cock deep as shudders racked his body.
God, he would never get enough of Sylvester, ever. It was as if the
man was made for him.

Jeremiah wrapped one arm around his mate’s shoulders, pulling

him closer as the other hand rested on Sylvester’s hip, hammering
into such soft and silky flesh. Jeremiah threw his head back and
howled right before biting into Sylvester, claiming him, once again
making the man his.

“Yes!” Sylvester shouted as he began to thrust back, fucking

Jeremiah’s cock. Jeremiah went wild, thrusting so hard into Sylvester
that the man was inching up onto the bed. He kept his teeth embedded

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115

until he knew that his saliva was well into his mate’s bloodstream
before licking the wound closed.

“Mine!” Jeremiah growled as he fucked Sylvester in the ways of

his people, fighting for the right to claim him, keep him. Sylvester
didn’t object to the force Jeremiah was using. He begged for more.

And more was what Jeremiah gave him. The thought of losing the

small dark blond man made Jeremiah almost insane. He never again
in his life wanted to experience the severing of their bond. It had felt
worse than any death he could ever experience.

Sylvester cried out as his hole began to quiver around Jeremiah’s

cock. Jeremiah drove into Sylvester harder, until he, too, was shouting
out his release. Gently, so very gently, Jeremiah released Sylvester
and pulled his cock free.

He lifted his mate up and then crawled into the bed beside him.

Instinct told him to clean his mate’s backside up, but Jeremiah wanted
to smell his seed on his mate just a little while longer.

* * * *

Sylvester took the steps slow. Jeremiah had him limping. The sex

last night had been otherworldly as he was reclaimed, and Sylvester
couldn’t be happier. Too bad his hole was sore as hell this morning.

His steps faltered on the step when he saw Sam standing at the

front door, his full uniform on, and a serious, no-nonsense scowl on
his face. This couldn’t be good for Pat. He wasn’t sure why the sheriff
was here after being gone for a week. From the man’s expression, it
wasn’t to court Pat.

“I don’t know anything about it, Sheriff.”
Sylvester listened more closely when he heard Jeremiah’s voice

answering Sam. Know about what? What was going on? He glanced
to his left to see Doctor Kell with his finger to his lips, shushing
Sylvester. What was that about?

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“Charles Sinclair disappeared two nights ago without a trace. No

one has heard from him. Not his business partners or his employees.
Are you sure it doesn’t have anything to do with what’s going on in
Mystery?”

Sylvester stiffened when he saw Sage taking angry strides toward

Sam. He just knew Sage was going to knock Sam on his ass. He could
see it in Sage’s eyes.

“If you have something to say, get it off of your chest, Sheriff. But

don’t you dare come into my home and accuse any of these men of
foul play!”

Sylvester sank down onto the step and sat. He could just imagine

Pat’s face. Sylvester, along with every man in this house, knew how
Pat felt about Sam. And everyone had thought the feeling was mutual.
Even York stopped teasing Pat about how he felt toward the sheriff. It
was all but evident in the werewolf’s eyes how much he wanted Sam,
how interested he truly was.

And now Sam was here accusing one of them of doing something

to Charles Sinclair. Sylvester knew in his heart that Jeremiah didn’t
do anything to that vile man. And if his mate had, then Charles had it
coming for trying to rape and kill him.

“I’m not accusing anyone of anything, Sage. I’m just doing my

job and investigating the disappearance of Mr. Sinclair.”

“Then go find the man responsible and stop implying that a

werewolf was involved in this. We don’t even know who the fuck
Charles Sinclair is.”

“I do,” Sylvester said as he stood, brushing his backside off and

slowly walking down the steps. He had heard enough. There was no
way he was going to allow the sheriff to accuse anyone in his home.
“He’s a vile man who tried to force me into his car after a dinner date
I had with him. He wanted me to thank him for feeding me by forcing
me on my knees, and when I refused, he tried to run me over with his
car. If it hadn’t been for Charles Sinclair, I wouldn’t have run into the
monster that kidnapped me and injected me with something that

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changed who I was. I should have had a choice, but Charles, and then
my kidnappers, took that away from me.” Sylvester spat each and
every word, angered that Sam would accuse any of these good men.
“If you want to find out who has Charles, why don’t you go find out
who he had a date with? Maybe he finally met his match.”

“Why didn’t you ever report any of this?” Sam asked as he stood

there looking shocked.

Sylvester wrapped his arms around his stomach, glaring at the

sheriff. “What was I supposed to report, Sheriff? That I was forced to
change into a werewolf? Would you have believed me, or would you
have locked me up for being crazy?”

Sam had the decency to blush as he shrugged. “I probably

wouldn’t have believed you.”

“So go find the real culprit and leave these men alone. They’ve

done nothing wrong.”

Sam nodded as he turned around, reaching for the knob, and

walked out of the front door. Sylvester sighed, feeling tired all of a
sudden. He could see Pat standing over by the window, resting his
arms over his chest, looking, for all the world, lost.

Sylvester felt sorry for the man, but there was nothing anyone

could do if the sheriff refused to accept who Pat was. It sucked
though. Seeing Pat look so hurt only reminded Sylvester of what he
could have lost.

“Thanks,” Sage said as he squeezed Sylvester’s shoulder.
Sylvester nodded as the room slowly cleared out. He could see

William and Santana hovering close to Pat, but the man waved them
away.

“It was silly of me to think someone as handsome as Sam Reese

would want a guy like me anyway,” Pat said before leaving the living
room and hurrying toward the kitchen.

Sylvester wanted to go after Sam and beat the brakes off of him.

The man didn’t deserve to have Pat’s love. And that was exactly what

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had been shining in Pat’s eyes the morning he had cooked breakfast
for Sam.

But Sylvester also understood what Sam was going through. The

man had had a bomb dropped right onto his lap. Some men took
longer to absorb news that werewolves existed. Sylvester just hoped
Sam did eventually accept it.

* * * *

Jeremiah laughed as Monterey cursed. Rebuilding his hardware

store wasn’t an easy task by itself, but when coupled with the fact that
tonight was the full moon, it made for really grumpy workers. He was
so damn glad he didn’t have to go through that anymore.

The foundation was laid, and the external frame was up. The men

were trying to hurry and add the outer shell before the snowstorm that
was predicted to hit Mystery and all surrounding counties blew their
way.

William and Sylvester chased Terror around, trying to stop her

from stealing the materials. Every time someone laid a small piece of
wood or a small tool down, the Chihuahua grabbed it and ran off with
the item, trying her best to push it into a trash bag.

“Dog is damn smart,” Sage said as he grinned.
“Yeah, but she’s slowing down progress every time someone has

to chase her down.” Jeremiah leaned forward and scooped the small
dog up into his arms when she ran his way, trying to escape William.
“But she’s one hell of a cleanup crew.”

Sage reached over and scratched Terror on the head as the

plywood was erected all around the store. He sat the dog down and
sighed. “I guess my break is over.” Jeremiah walked around and
helped Mercy nail the plywood into place. If they could get the
exterior walls up, the snowstorm wouldn’t wreak such havoc with the
wood inside.

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He breathed a sigh of relief when Sage put the last piece in place.

Mercy and Monterey installed the door on the front and back of the
structure as Sage placed pieces of wood over what were to be the
windows. He took a step back, smiling that the structure looked sound
enough to withstand the brutal snow and winds that were predicted.

Everyone placed the tools inside the hardware store and then

began to climb into their trucks when a howl rent through the air.
Everyone stilled at the sound. It was too early for the shift, so
whoever it was making such a racket was either mated or one of
Martin’s victims.

Jeremiah moved closer to Sylvester. His mate had to go through

the first shift now that he had been converted the way it should have
happened. So Sylvester wouldn’t be able to shift and defend himself.
Neither would Santana. Tonight was his first shift as well. He and
Isaac were back at the house. Isaac wanted time with his mate before
Santana’s first shift.

Leaning his head back and sniffing the air, Jeremiah growled. He

smelled lycan. And there was more than one. Jeremiah grabbed
Sylvester and pushed him toward the truck. “Take him home,”
Jeremiah shouted at Monterey as he and Sage shifted.

When Sage grabbed William, the smaller wolf fought to free

himself. “I can fight, Sage. I swear.”

“Not tonight, slim.” Sage grabbed William around his waist and

practically tossed the man into the truck, Monterey driving away.

“Get behind us, Mercy,” Sage growled.
“When my dick falls off,” Mercy snapped as he pulled an ax from

inside the store and readied for battle.

Jeremiah jerked his head around when he saw movements among

the pines. It was if the lycans were teasing them, scattering about to
confuse Jeremiah, Sage, and Mercy. He slowly turned in a circle, his
eyes scanning his surroundings.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come back for my test subject?” the

disembodied voice called from somewhere to Jeremiah’s right.

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“Come and get him, Father.” Sage growled as he took a step back,

his head turning from side to side just like Jeremiah’s. He could hear
movement among the trees, but saw no one. It was a game of cat and
mouse, pure and simple. Confuse the enemy and then launch a
surprise attack. Jeremiah was very familiar with Martin’s tactics. He
used them enough times for Jeremiah to know what was coming.

The three men formed a tight circle, their backs against one

another as the werewolves started to emerge from the woods, Martin
front and center. Jeremiah quickly counted six werewolves behind the
alpha. He gasped when he saw one of the men still in human form.
What the hell was Martin thinking? The man had gone totally mad to
bring a werewolf in his human form to a fight with shifted
werewolves. Well, not all of Sage’s werewolves were shifted.

“Hand him over, Sage. What do you care if a human is sacrificed,

or are you fucking the man?” Martin smirked, his cold blue eyes
locked onto Sage. A rumble vibrated in Jeremiah’s chest to hear the
alpha talking about his mate that way.

“No, but I am,” Jeremiah admitted. “And you won’t get your

hands on him.”

Martin took a step closer, his fingers curling in at his side. “Do

you know what you have interrupted? Are you even aware what I
have done? Think about it, you fools. Think about your futures.
Aren’t you tired of hiding who you truly are? Aren’t you tired of
sneaking behind the humans’ backs? We could rule them. We no
more belong in the dark than they belong in control.”

“And what?” Sage asked. “Let you lead the way? I didn’t like you

as an alpha. What makes you think I’ll like you as a world leader?”

“Fine,” Martin said and then waved his hand toward the three.

Jeremiah crouched as the six werewolves attacked.

He took the first lycan down quickly, only to be attacked by

another. Jeremiah fought, but kept his eyes on Mercy, who was still in
his human form. The sun was setting, which meant Monterey and
Mercy would be able to shift. But it also meant Mercy would be

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writhing in pain as the transformation took place, helpless to fight
anyone or anything off.

Mercy swung his ax, hitting his mark as it was embedded into the

lycan’s back. He kicked the creature, removing his ax and swinging
around for the next target.

Jeremiah concentrated on the one human that had jumped in front

of him. They circled each other, Jeremiah growling and snapping as
each waited for the other to make a mistake. This man was clever,
using his mind instead of sheer brawn. Jeremiah recognized him. It
was Devin, one of the pack members.

“You agree with Martin?” he asked as he stepped to his left, the

other man doing the same. “You would sacrifice your life for his
maniacal scheme?”

“He is my alpha. It doesn’t matter what I think. I follow his lead.”
“Then you are truly a fool.” Jeremiah leapt, taking Devin down

and clamping his teeth over the other man’s throat. He applied
pressure but found it hard to snap the lycan’s neck. They had been
friends once, and Jeremiah prayed the man saw reason.

“Kill him!” Martin shouted at Devin.
Jeremiah eased back, but kept his weight on Devin. “Do you see

what he is doing? He’s willing to kill his own species to get what he
wants. Do you see him coming to your rescue? Is he fighting to save
you?” Jeremiah hated the fact that some lycan followed blindly,
without question. Killing another of his kind ate at his soul. He would
do it to survive, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Devin’s eyes shot over to Martin, as if he was waiting for the man

to help him. Martin curled his lip up at Devin and then turned his
back. Devin growled, his eyes narrowing in on the alpha.

“Let me up so that I can kill him myself,” Devin snapped.
“No, you will leave, never to follow Martin again,” Jeremiah said

as he continued to sit on Devin, but watching his back at the same
time.

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Sage and Mercy took down the last of the lycans then spun around

to face the alpha. Jeremiah watched as another werewolf emerged
from the woods, growling and snapping, rolling his shoulders as he
stared at the group in front of him.

“I’ll get my hands on Sylvester. Mark my words, Jeremiah. But

until then, I have a new test subject, and Charles is more than willing
to help my cause.”

Jeremiah growled as he stared at the man who had tried to rape

and kill his mate. He jumped up from Devin, racing toward Charles.
The werewolf howled and then moved closer to the alpha, as if that
was going to help him.

Martin shifted, his size overshadowing every werewolf around

him. He wasn’t the alpha for nothing. Sage was the same size, having
alpha blood coursing through his veins. The two faced off, taking
swipes at one another and trying their best to tear out each other’s
throat. That gave Jeremiah the chance he needed to go after Charles.

He chased the lycan into the woods until Charles vanished from

sight. Jeremiah sniffed the air, scenting the werewolf, but not seeing
him. The scent slowly faded, telling him that Charles had gotten
away.

He heard a wounded howl coming from Mystery and raced back

to Sage. When he cleared the pines, he saw Sage holding his right arm
as Martin ran in the opposite direction.

“What happened?”
Mercy held his stomach, breathing heavily as blood covered his

hand. Devin was applying pressure to Mercy’s wound as he shook his
head. “Martin pulled a silver blade from out of his pocket. It had a
wooden handle. He scored Sage’s arm before taking off.”

Sage walked toward his truck, a grimace on his face as he climbed

inside. The man grunted, but didn’t say a word.

“We need to get back to the house,” Jeremiah called out to Mercy

and Devin.

“You’re letting me come?” Devin asked in surprise.

Jeremiah’s Heart

123

“Yes, but every single man in that house will be watching you. If

you try anything, I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear and deliver your
body to Martin’s front doorstep.”

Devin shook his head as he helped Mercy to the truck. “I may

have been blind, but I’m not a fool. I’ve seen what Sage can do.”

“It’s not Sage you have to worry about,” Jeremiah warned as he

drove the men home.

Once they were back at the house, Sylvester came running

outside, launching himself into Jeremiah’s arms. “I was so worried.”

“Come on, love. You have a shift to go through.”
“It’s going to be painful, isn’t it?” Sylvester asked as Jeremiah

watched Devin help Mercy up the steps. Mercy didn’t look too happy
about needing help, but then the doctor came outside and hurried
Mercy inside.

“Yeah, but it won’t be as painful as your first shift.”
Sylvester sighed. “I’ll be so glad when all this painful shifting

stuff is behind me.”

So would Jeremiah. He walked upstairs with Sylvester as Sage

took Devin down into the basement. He wasn’t sure what Sage was
going to do with the man, but he prayed Devin had seen the errors of
his ways and wouldn’t be foolish enough to try anything.

As Jeremiah walked into his bedroom, he sat Sylvester on the bed,

seeing the last of the daylight fade into darkness. Sylvester crawled
onto the bed, panting heavily as he once again went through his first
shift.

When Jeremiah saw the dark blond fur that he had grown to love,

a wide smile spread across his face. “You are still the most beautiful
werewolf I have ever seen.”

Howls erupted in the house, a few new ones added in. Jeremiah

could hear Santana howling the loudest, as if he finally felt the
freedom Jeremiah’s people experienced every full moon.

“Ready for our run?” Jeremiah asked as he wrapped his arms

around Sylvester’s waist.

124 Lynn

Hagen

“But what about Martin?” Sylvester asked as he laid his head on

Jeremiah’s chest, close to his heart.

“He’s lost his men and needs to regroup. I don’t think we have to

worry about him, at least not tonight.” And Jeremiah knew he would
have to tell Sylvester, along with Sam, about Charles.

But until then, he was going to enjoy the night with the man he

loved, running free and leaving his worries behind in Mystery.

THE END

WWW.LYNNHAGEN.COM

HTTP://FACEBOOK.COM/LYNNHAGEN.MANLOVE

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but

lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to
find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

Also by Lynn Hagen

Everlasting Classic ManLove: Shifters of Mystery 1: Sage’s Mystery

Everlasting Classic ManLove: Shifters of Mystery 2:

Santana’s Discovery

For all other titles, please visit

www.bookstrand.com/lynn-hagen

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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