Rick really wouldn’t hand over Dorian.
It was an empty threat.
He just felt uncomfortable with that weird look in the man’s brown eyes.
The human had been looking at him with something close to tenderness.
Now he was looking at Rick with disdain.
That was much better.
Rick could handle disdain.
He wasn’t too sure about tenderness.
He was interested in Dorian, sexually, maybe because they were in this screwed-up situation together.
Friends.
They could become friends.
But not mates.
He didn’t want Dorian falling for him.
Rick didn’t want this forced mating to begin with.
He had thought Dorian had agreed and they were on the same page.
The human wasn’t allowed to change the rules halfway through the game.
Even though it was almost impossible, Rick had to find a way to get out of this mating shit.
“We need to separate Ian from us.”
“Why?” Dorian shouted the question.
“Because if the Mãos da Morte are sent after us, do you want Ian in the way?”
“No,” Dorian replied as he slumped back.
“But he can’t go home.”
“I know a place.” It was a pack member’s home.
Olivia was the pack healer and was the best chance Ian had at overcoming his addiction to the vampire’s bite.
If not, she could at least look after him.
Her mate, Graham, wouldn’t mind.
The man was fully submersed into the pack life and knew the score.
Besides, Graham would do anything for Olivia.
All she had to do was say she was helping Ian and Graham would fold like a deck of cards.
Now all he had to do was figure out where he and Dorian would go, because going back to the Wallington place was out of the question.
He glanced over at Dorian and saw how pale the man still was.
It was his first time handling a gun.
Rick just knew it.
What he hadn’t said was how turned on he was at seeing Dorian going in, guns blazing—so to speak.
If Rick was looking for a mate, Dorian would be a perfect match for him.
The human had backbone.
In this ever-changing world, filled with corrupt politicians and dangerous werehyenas out to destroy them, it was welcome.
Rick would need someone with guts and steel balls by his side.
But he wasn’t looking for a mate.
He was placating his pack until he could figure a way out of this.
Rick didn’t like to be forced to do anything, let alone find a mate for life.
“Miguel and Benito are at the other place. You should call and warn them to get out.”
“I thought you didn’t like them?” Rick said as he grabbed his cell phone.
Those two would be no match for Mãos da Morte.
He wasn’t even sure he was able to defend himself and Dorian against them.
Mãos da Morte were a nasty business and something Rick had only heard about.
He had never come across one.
But then again, it was said that to see one would be the last thing a person saw before death.
Rick shivered at the thought.
Dorian’s voice brought Rick out of his deep thoughts.
“It’s not that I don’t like them. Miguel got me into this mess, and Benito is a little too hands-on for me. Even after I threatened him he kept trying to paw me.”
Rick laughed.
He knew what Dorian was talking about.
Benito could be a little needy.
“That sounds like Benito. He’s harmless. The juvenile thinks you are going to be my mate so he is trying to get close to you, get to know you.”
Dorian shook his head, checked on Ian in the backseat, and then looked over at Rick.
“Is every changeling so hands-on?”
Rick nodded.
“It’s our way of life. There’s nothing sexual about it. Even the cubs need reassurance. It’s just who we are. We are very tactile creatures.”
“As changelings, they piss me off. As individuals, I have nothing against them. I even like Miguel.”
Rick growled, stunned at the sound.
Was he feeling jealous?
“Don’t worry, he isn’t my type.”
“What is your type?” Rick asked before he could stop the question from leaving his lips.
“I’m not sure, but it isn’t Miguel or Benito.”
Dorian didn’t like submissive men.
Good to know.
That only left intellectual or strong males.
Those were basically the three categories in the changeling society.
That didn’t mean submissive pack members or dominating-type males weren’t smart.
It just meant that intellectuals were a whole other kettle of fish.
They tended to be academic or scholars, like George and Omar.
Some were submissive while others were very dominating males.
The weaker members of any given changeling pack, leap, or whatever they belonged to tended to rely on the stronger males to protect them.
Miguel and Benito depended on Rick and Nate to protect them.
But other members were there in case Rick or Nate weren’t available.
Rick had a feeling Dorian liked the dominating type, but the man didn’t fit into any changeling category.
The human perplexed him.
He wasn’t submissive, and he wasn’t a scholar.
The man wasn’t dominating either, although he had backbone.
He could be wrong, though.
Dorian could like the book-toting smart guys.
Rick inwardly growled at the thought of Dorian with another man.
And that shocked the shit out of him.
He was the alpha of a werewolf changeling pack with a mission, and having a mate at his side was not something he needed at the moment.
Dorian could not only be used as leverage—and already had been by the wererats—but the man was human, unable to handle the harsh life of a changeling.
Rick had made up his mind by the time he pulled into Graham and Olivia’s driveway.
Fucking Dorian was something he was very interested in.
Mating the man was not going to happen.
“This is a pack member’s home. The female is our healer. Ian will be safe here.”
Dorian stared at the house for a long moment and then turned toward Rick.
“Promise me nothing will happen to my brother.”
Rick turned the key, killing the motor.
“You trust my word?”
“I don’t have a choice. If you lie to me, I know how to use a gun now.”
So it had been the first time Dorian had used a gun.
Damn, that thought made Rick’s cock hard and made him want to smack Dorian at the same time.
“You used my gun and had never shot one before? Do you even know how to handle one?”
Dorian shook his head.
“I got Ian out of there, though.”
“You could have fucking shot me.”
“But I didn’t.”
“You are going to learn how to handle a gun. Leave mine alone until I take you out to the range.” Rick was pissed and proud at the same time.
God, he was truly sick in the head.
Graham came out onto his porch, shotgun in his hand.
He must have recognized Rick’s silver Mustang because a grin spread across his face.
“Alpha.”
“Good to see you, Graham.” Rick slid from the car, nodding at the changeling.
“I have someone who needs to be taken care of.” He reached into the backseat and pulled Ian into his arms.
The man was so light that it cost him nothing to carry Ian toward the house.
Being a changeling, it didn’t bother him that Ian was only clad in a pair of tiny shorts, but he caught the uncomfortable glances Dorian was throwing his way.
Graham rested the shotgun against the house and then trotted down the steps.
“How bad?”
“Fang addict and possibly wanted by the Mãos da Morte, or in the very least, Calico.”
Graham shook his head as he grabbed Ian from Rick’s arms.
“You sure do know how to have an exciting night.”
Dorian walked around the car, glancing at Graham like he wanted to argue the fact that Ian was in a stranger’s arms.
Rick walked to Dorian’s side.
“I promise he will be safe.”
The human nodded, but still watched his brother.
“Is Olivia home?” Rick followed Graham.
“She is awake and making coffee in the kitchen.”
“We woke her?” Dorian asked.
That bit of concern went a long way with Rick.
Even if Dorian continually pointed out that he wasn’t thrilled to be caught up in changeling bullshit, he cared that they had woken Graham’s mate.
“She’s used to it. Changelings come to her night and day. Trust me, Dorian, she doesn’t mind.” Rick held the screen door open for Dorian, waiting for the human to pass through and found himself inhaling Dorian’s scent as he passed by Rick.
Sex was definitely on the menu because Dorian’s scent was very pleasing to Rick’s werewolf.
His cock jerked in his jeans at the thought of fucking the man.