Dire Wolf Mates - Chapter 99: Chapter 99

“For fuck’s sake, Weylin. We do not manhandle potential employees!” Derrick growled at him from across his desk.
The Alpha obviously did not know he’d spent ten minutes wrestling his Wolf when he’d walked into the bar and saw Gwendolyn with three of the Pack females surrounding her. Fuck. She looked so beautiful. Curly brown hair, big inviting eyes, totally kissable lips just sitting there so perfect, waiting for a guy like him to come and worship at her altar.
Mine.
The animal wanted to claim her right there, but his human half recognized the obstacle to his own happily ever after ending. His mate was a normal. She knew fuck all about his world, and there was no way for him to explain what she meant to him without outing them all.
The problem? It wasn’t his decision to make. At least, not alone, it wasn’t. Which led to why he was in his Alpha’s office having his ass handed to him by one angry as fuck Dire Wolf.
“I didn’t know she was a potential employee, Derrick. Shit, I was completely unprepared, I know, and I apologize,” Weylin explained, eyeing the enormously pissed off male.
He thought better of it and dropped his gaze as his Alpha growled menacingly. The guy was super touchy ever since his uber-pregnant wife refused to give up her hobbies despite being so late in the pregnancy. Overprotective? Maybe, if she were a typical pregnant woman, but Lucy did not do things like knit booties or bake cookies.
Her hobbies included bartending till three in the morning, dancing on bar tops despite her swollen feet, and stealing her mate’s motorcycle for middle of the night rides with Sheila and those crazy Golden Lionesses. All the Shifter women he knew were hardheaded and sassy as fuck. But that’s what made them so damned lovable, or so he assumed.
It drove Derrick bonkers, and that alone was worth it in his not so humble opinion. His Alpha seemed to have it coming, trying to tell that Feline what to do. Hell, that was like taking his life, make that his balls, in his own hands. Poor Derrick. He might be the toughest Dire Wolf of them all, but his petite mate had him wrapped around her furry little pinky.
Personally, Weylin did not see what the big deal was. Lucy was a Shifter. If she wanted to ride motorcycles, dance on a pole, and shake her sass all night long, so what? She could handle herself just fine.
Easy for him to say as an unmated male. Suddenly he pictured Gwendolyn—damn he loved her name, it was every bit as cute as she was—taking part in the same activities Lucy preferred, and his stomach twisted in knots.
Fuuckk.
Weylin hadn’t even mated her yet, and already the woman had his balls in a vise. And this was why he was not looking for a mate! But even as he had the thought, Weylin took it back. He might not have been searching for his mate, but she landed right in his lap, and dammit, he wanted her. Fuck yes, he did! He wanted the female with every fiber of his being.
“Look, I get it, Weylin. You’re single, good-looking, and you haven’t met your mate yet, but at your age you should know better than to just grab random normals and shove your tongue in their mouths! For fuck’s sake, I am telling you, this gigolo lifestyle of yours has to end!”
“Actually Derrick, I don’t think that will be a problem because, you see, I have met her. My mate. I mean, I have met my mate,” he said, feeling tongue-tied.
“Your mate? Fantastic! Wait. Fuck, please tell me it’s not that other loopy Lioness, right?”
Derrick’s face went from happy to horrified in the span of a millisecond. Loopy Lioness? Weylin was utterly confused.
“What or who are you talking about?” Weylin asked.
“The last single Golden girl from the Blue Valley Pride. Those females whose names all start with A! It’s not her, right? I don’t think I can handle another one of them in the Pack,” Derrick grumbled, and ran a hand over his face.
Rigghhht.
Weylin barked a laugh, clapping his hand over his mouth at the angry glare from Derrick. The man was apparently not kidding. Weylin figured it made sense, though.
The Goldens had quite the rep, but they were fine females, if a little rascally. What did anyone expect with a mother like Patty? The new Queen of the Pride was well known for her shenanigans—most of which involved catnip, alcohol, and dancing on top of bars or swimming naked in fountains.
King Donovan was one lucky or unlucky male, depending on how you viewed his current cup. Weylin was a half full kinda guy. With a mate like Patricia, the Lion King would never be bored. There was something to say about that, for sure!
Now, Brock, the Dire Wolf Pack Beta, was mated to Ariella Golden. Her sister Annabeth had found her mate in a Falcon Shifter name of Hank Garret. While Antonetta had recently mated a Tiger Shifter from the Maverick Pride. If Weylin’s calculations were correct, Adrianna was the last sister standing. And while they were each of them fine looking felines, alas, the last Golden was not his mate.
Besides, Weylin figured Derrick was only kidding about that whole please let it not be her thing. Right? Well, maybe mostly kidding.
“No, man,” he told his Alpha. “My mate is not a cat. It’s the woman. Her. She’s it.”
“What are you talking about? Who is it?” Derrick barked.
“Her, man. The potential employee,” he whispered.
His super sensitive hearing had picked up a pair of footfalls in the hallway. The scent of berries and sweetness reached his nostrils, and he knew she was almost there. The beast in him rumbled, and Weylin coughed to cover his growl.
“The human? Absofuckinglutely not, Weylin. You can’t let her know what you are,” Derrick attempted to whisper.
The man was too damn loud for his own good and Weylin winced. That was so not the way he wanted to tell her about him. But it was all good, he hoped.
“Shh! They are coming,” Weylin said, realizing his error in shushing his Alpha when the man growled.
“The fuck, bro. No humans. Got it?” Derrick ordered.
“Sorry, Alpha,” he mumbled, baring his throat a second before Lucy opened the door.
A pair of warm brown eyes met his, and Weylin’s inner beast stirred. Damn, she was beautiful. That long, curly hair fell down in ripples and he was dying to get his hands on it. Wanted to test the softness of each strand. He wondered how it would look strewn across his bed, all wild and perfect, like a dark river he would willingly wade into.
Yep. It was official. Weylin was a goner. Gwendolyn cleared her throat. Her pouty lips made a small frown as she turned her head to avoid his gaze. Damn, he hoped she didn’t already hate him for what he’d done before. Maybe she was just shy, though his heart sunk at the thought of the former.
“Hey there, kitten,” Derrick rumbled to Lucy, interrupting Weylin’s reverie.
The Alpha’s icy stare was riveted to his mate's swollen form as she walked over and dropped her cheek for a kiss. Their love was palpable in the small room. Weylin was moved beyond words as they embraced, Derrick resting one big hand on her protruding abdomen, while the other cupped Lucy’s neck.
For the briefest of moments, they were as one. Heads bowed, lips touching, eyes closed. Even better, there was complete and absolute joy radiating from the pair, and it brought a rumble to Weylin’s own chest. He wanted what the Alpha couple had for himself.
A mate. A family. A reason.
“Gwen, this is my, um, my guy, my fiancé, actually. Um, Derrick Rand, meet Gwendolyn Hoffer.”
“Who?” Derrick asked dumbly.
“Honey, this is our new bartender, Gwen. She’ll be filling in for me,” Lucy said.
The Alpha stilled, hope seemed to radiate from him like rays from the sun. Watching the relief spill across Derrick’s face was quite the revelation for Weylin. He was happy for the couple, but again, there was that deep longing to have that sort of bond with someone for himself.
Can have. Mate.
Shhh, he silenced his Wolf. This was not the time or place for mooning over the woman. He needed to clear the air and apologize. If he could only find the words.
“You mean it, kitten?” the big, bad Alpha asked Lucy, snagging Weylin’s attention once more.
“Of course, I do—oof! Derrick! You can’t just carry me off—sorry, Gwen! Weylin will finish the tour and get you the forms—oooh,” Lucy yelped the last bit.
She’d been hefted in the air by her mate, who was even then nuzzling her belly with his lips, as he carted her off to another, more private, location. Weylin cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. That was gonna be a hard one to explain.
“Um, wow. You know, Tracey’s boyfriend did the same thing, sorta, to her after lunch,” she murmured. “Does that kinda thing happen a lot around here?” Gwendolyn asked, clearing her throat.
Was he mistaken, or was that a hint of longing in her voice as she watched the Alpha pair leave? If she wanted to be swept off her feet, all she had to do was ask, he mused, a Wolfish grin spreading across his face.
“I could lie and say no, but actually, yeah, it does. All the mates, er, couples, are like that with each other,” he began.
“Mates?”
“Oh, it’s just a word we use,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck harder to hide his discomfort.
“Like a club word?”
“Club? Oh, you mean motorcycle club, right? Yeah. That. Sorta,” he mumbled, hating even the pretense of a lie.
“Well, where is he taking her?”
“Who? Lucy and Derrick? Oh, he’s taking her somewhere to, um, show her the proper, er, appreciation, for her choice to stop working. You see, she’s nearing the end of her pregnancy, and he’s been worried sick about her. Lucy has been overdoing it with the long hours and whatnot,” he said, watching the play of emotions cross her pretty face.
“Wait. Proper appreciation? Do you mean? Ohmygah! But isn’t he worried he could, you know, hurt her?” Gwen asked, her nose scrunched up adorably.
“Hell no,” he said and chuckled. “Derrick would cut off his arm before he hurt Lucy. She means more to him than his own life.”
His blood heated looking at the woman, and the clear understanding dawned on him she could mean the same thing to him. Mates were revered in Shifter culture, Dire Wolves especially since theirs was such a long lifetime.
Mine, his Wolf growled.