Called To Mate: Pack Mates, #1

Chapter 1

Declan O’Halloran rolled down his window so the icy air flowed over his face. He inhaled the wonderful pine scent of his hometown. God, it felt good to be home, but fuck, what a drive. He hated the hours cooped up in the rolling cage, hated the traffic, hated the fucking snow that had slowed the drive down to a snail’s pace. Crap, it was only the end of October. It looked as if they would be in for a hard winter.

He drove up the long gravel road, stopping at the gate to key in the combination. Before it was fully open, two wolves came barreling through, growling and baring their teeth. They stilled instantly and flopped onto their backs to expose their bellies, baring their throats in submission. Hey, Adam, Cullen. I’m just gonna go up to the house and crash. I’ll empty my Range Rover later.

Adam rose to all fours and nudged Cullen to his feet. Instead of taking off, the two wolves stepped close and pressed against his legs.

Declan ruffled his fingers through their fur, oddly touched that they were so comfortable showing him affection. He’d almost forgotten how much most wolves needed physical touch to convey their emotions. He’d also forgotten how much he’d missed having the touchy-feely pack members around him. He’d obviously been gone far too long. I missed you too, guys.

The wolves pulled back a little and head-butted him, clearly wanting to play. He indulged in a quick wrestling match, but his exhaustion caught up with him within minutes. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Get on with your rounds now. My dad will be pissed if he finds out you were kibitzing with me instead of protecting pack territory.

Adam rolled his eyes—quite an accomplishment while still in wolf form—and let out a soft huff. He nuzzled Declan one last time before issuing a sharp yip at Cullen. The two wolves raced away, their paws crunching over the crusty surface of the snow.

He watched until he couldn’t see them anymore. They’d been his two best friends for years, but his absence had put a distance between them. Phone calls and e-mails could only do so much for a friendship.

Frigid water had started to seep through his tennis shoes by the time he got back into his SUV and drove up the long driveway again. He shivered, looking forward to getting into the house.

A small thrill shot through him. He was home and about to become alpha, something he’d always known and had been groomed for since birth. God, he’d waited for this moment. Not that he wanted his father to die, but everything inside him wanted—demanded—to see to his pack’s needs and protection. The only reason he’d left in the first place was because two alpha personalities as strong as his and his dad’s made for a very uncomfortable living arrangement.

He eased the Range Rover between the BMW his mom was so proud of and his dad’s pickup. The snow was even higher here, drifting off the rear field to pile around the cars. It looked as if the snow blower would have to be extracted from the shed and fired up by morning.

Snow slipped into his shoes when his feet hit the ground, and he winced. He probably could have worn more appropriate footwear. But he hated driving in winter boots, and it certainly hadn’t been snowing in Toronto when he’d left.

The house beckoned enticingly, the jack-o’-lantern still grinning at him from the front porch. It was too bad he hadn’t arrived a few hours earlier. It was Halloween and the pups would have been around in their costumes. His mom would have been loading their bags up with all kinds of candy.

He could picture the scene clearly. Little faces grinning up at him, small squeaky voices asking for a treat. He wondered what the kids would say if he demanded a trick first.

He let himself into the house with the key he hadn’t used in years. A lamp had been left on for him, and he smiled. His mom always did things like that. He hoped he was lucky enough to find a mate so considerate.

Declan dropped his keys onto the small table next to the door and wandered through the foyer toward the kitchen, intent on grabbing a bite to eat. He rubbed his stomach when it growled loudly. He should have stopped at a fast-food joint on the way here, but the snow had been flying and he’d just wanted to get to his pack’s territory.

The kitchen still smelled of home, the air perfumed with cinnamon and fresh bread as well as an underlying note of meat. He grinned at the thought as he rummaged through the fridge. Only a werewolf would appreciate the scent of meat lingering in the kitchen.

The fridge here was fully stocked, something he usually forgot to do. He pulled out a platter of sandwiches and read the note attached to the plastic wrap.

Declan,

Make sure you’re awake for breakfast. We’re having company.

Don’t eat all the cookies. Make sure you have some veggies.

We’re so happy you’re home.

Love,

Mom

He peeled back the plastic and goggled at the sandwiches. His mom never did anything halfway. Large hunks of lamb were layered with slices of tomato, pieces of lettuce, and slathered with mayo, all held together between thick slices of fluffy white bread.

He snagged a plate and put a couple of sandwiches onto it before returning the rest to where he’d found them. He probably shouldn’t get used to this, though. His parents would be leaving for the council soon and he would be back to fending for himself. At least Smooth Rock Falls had a decent Chinese place. Or it did the last time he was here, anyway.

Oh, man. There was a container of milk stashed in the back where his mom swore the fridge was coldest. Score. He would bet anything it was fresh and tasty, unlike the milk he’d poured down his drain that morning. He poured a glass of creamy goodness, grabbed a couple of peanut butter cookies from the ever present jar on the counter, and carried everything into the cozy front room.

He nearly dropped the whole lot when he crossed the threshold. There, asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace, was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. The man’s expression was troubled and he mumbled under his breath. Mr. Gorgeous threw his arm out and whimpered, clearly terrified of whatever he was dreaming about.

Declan’s heart squeezed. No one should be so tormented in their sleep, let alone someone who was this damn young. He would put the man at no more than nineteen, although it was hard to tell. The man’s blond hair swept across his forehead, and there wasn’t even a hint of whiskers shadowing his jaw.

His heart wasn’t the only thing that was being squeezed. His cock was currently pressing against the fly of his jeans. And since he routinely went commando, the zipper was probably leaving a vivid mark on his dick. Maybe he could convince the pretty boy over there to kiss it better. If he was of age, of course.

He set his plate and glass down on the coffee table and adjusted his cock. His hand lingered on his bulge, stroking just a little.

God, the man was out cold. There was no sign that he was even aware of Declan’s presence, which made him frown. Wolf pups were taught from an early age to be aware of their surroundings, even in their sleep. That the sexy-as-sin guy over there hadn’t so much as cracked an eye open since Declan had walked into the room could only mean one of two things. Either he hadn’t been taught how to use his senses or he was dead tired.

Or the fact that he hadn’t woken up could be because of a combination of both, considering the physical state the man seemed to be in.

His mouth turned down even more when he crossed the room and squatted next to the sleeping man. The circles under those eyes spoke volumes, as did his slender, downright skinny frame. It was dangerous for a werewolf to get that thin. The animal could take over and go on a killing rampage in a desperate attempt to get enough calories to simply live.

The man didn’t even stir when Declan pulled a soft blanket up to his chin.

Unable to help himself, he reached out and traced those gorgeous cheekbones. His heart pounded and his dick jerked in time with his pulse. He’d been wrong before. The man did have a light smattering of whiskers scattered over his cheeks and jaw. They were just so pale he hadn’t seen it from across the room. And, fuck, it was soft. It would feel wonderful rubbing against his balls.

He ground his palm against his aching shaft, trying to give himself some sort of relief. How sick was he that he stood there, lusting after a man who was obviously just recovering from some sort of trauma?

The man’s eyes fluttered as if he dragged himself out of sleep. Deep brown irises flecked with gold shone up at him fuzzily.

Instead of the sleepy warmth Declan expected to see reflected in those eyes, he was surprised by the abject terror in them. His pretty boy crab-walked backward and flattened himself against the wall. Please don’t hurt me, he whispered.

Well, that was not the reaction he’d been expecting. Hey, it’s all right. I’m Declan, the alpha’s son. I’ve been called home. He didn’t bother to add the fact that he would be the new alpha in a couple of days. There was no use panicking the young man further.

If the guy got any closer to the wall, he’d leave a dent. He was pressed against the plaster so hard. I’m sorry, he whispered.

Declan approached the man as carefully as he would a wounded animal. The smell of fear was rank in the air, and the alpha in him was compelled to soothe and comfort the terrified man. There’s nothing to be sorry for. I didn’t mean to scare you. He continued walking toward the young man, his hands held up in a nonthreatening manner.

Whimpering softly, the stranger turned his head as if expecting to be slapped. I need to go.

Declan backed away as he stood and let the young man squeeze by him. The scent of fear as he rushed past should have made Declan’s wolf squirm to give chase, but something held him back. He followed the pretty guy to the base of the stairs.

The man hurried up to the second floor and disappeared into a room directly across from his own.

There was obviously more going on than Declan realized. He was torn between chasing after him to soothe the fear or to seduce him.

A throat clearing from behind him meant he didn’t have a choice at all anymore. The young man would have to wait. Hi, Dad.

Rory O’Halloran was still as intimidating as he’d always been. The aura he gave off was one of absolute power and control, and absurdly, comfort. He opened his arms for a hug, and it was all Declan could do to stop from throwing himself into his arms.

It’s been too long, son. The gruff voice of his father never failed to relax him, and he cuddled close for a second, taking the affection his wolf demanded. It was a good thing he’d left when he had or else he wouldn’t still have such a great relationship with his father.

You’re right. It’s been way too long. I saw Adam and Cullen outside and realized how much I missed this place. He followed his father back into the front room where his dinner was still waiting. He