Rejected Mate and Following Fate

It's Deacon, I can smell him. He surprises me with the low husky hostility of his link between us and I blink, stomach turning itself in knots as I realize what he just said. Trying to ignore the tone of killer in his undercurrent because I know Colton is a seasoned warrior, and I'm about to see it for myself for a second time.

How do you know what Deacon smells like? I blanch, looking from Colton to the truck and trying to figure out how we would know that unless he knew him. He couldn't have gotten scent from my projecting memories. I mean, Deacon is a Santo, but if he's been at the facility for years then I assumed Colton would have been a boy and not really known him. Deacon is older, by maybe ten years, and I don't recall pulling him from any of his memories, but then again, I haven't looked.

That asshole and his pack slunk off into god knows where after his father died, but I know him. He tried to take me down in front of his pack when I was a kid, to exert his dominance, and humiliate me, and I handed him his ass. I hate that mother fucker with a passion. Knowing that it's his pack that held my mom, and now comes after you both, I swear, I'm going to rip him limb from limb.

I swallow hard, eyes widening and gulp back a little tremor of 'oh shit' now that I realize this is more than Colton being pissed on behalf of me and his mother, and Colton thinking about diffusing things. It's also about already hating the idiot who followed us here. The rev up again of his rage as it waves through me and I know I need to settle him once more.

We have young here, we have pregnant women, and elderly wolves. We have families, and this space is faced by a hundred windows. We need to shield them from the horrors and instill that this place is a sanctuary. I have to help calm Colton and push this fight outside our boundaries, away from watching eyes. I don't want him to rile the extended pack and rip a dozen wolves to shreds out here like this. Even if it is Deacon.

Someone opens the truck door and slides out, all dressed in dark clothes like Colton is, and I recognize the tall, cocky swagger, right away. That air of asshole he wears so well. Deacon looks around, noting all the wolves scattered in a circle surrounding him and then locks eyes on Colton as he seeks out whom he should interact with, and seems to visibly sag. He obviously remembers Colton well.

It's all in his body language and the death of confidence. He hesitates, then walks towards us with his hands raised up as a sign of submission, and Colton stands taller, lifting his head and seems to grow a few inches as he locks him with a penetrating glare. Colton moves in front of me instinctively, side stepping and pushing me back with a hand slid across my abdomen firmly. I can tell it's a protective movement, instinctual, and can't be mad about it when it's purely automatic response to an incoming threat.

of the two trucks, taking in all around them and stand back in the circle surrounding their own vehicles. I can see the hesitant and questioning looks they throw between one another, as they recognize certain members, and

what I'm told, Colton. I didn't come here to fight, or even knew you'd broken off and had a Santo sect here. I just need to take my patient, and my prisoner, back. Your father was very clear about that." Deacon isn't so smug now, in fact, I can taste his nervousness, and smell his fear in the air as he closes the gap and comes within four feet. Sure the second It dawned on him he was rolling into a Santo space he shit his pants and had a moment of 'what the fuck is going on?'. I move around Colton a tad, to be able to lock a

bristling with a pulsing desire to rip at Deacon and I impulsively lay a hand flat on his back, to remind him to stay calm. I can feel it oozing my way, his emotions riling mine, and that insane desire to turn and bite the asshole in the face. I have to inhale heavily, breathe deeply, and count to ten to make it pass, willing Colton to draw from me some of this

you mean my mom and my femme? Pretty sure you can't be talking about walking on in here uninvited, thinking I'm going to stand back and let you touch either of them." Colton steps to him and closes the gap completely, humanly straight, and tall, aggression pulsating, and pushes nose to nose with Deacon. He's standing taller than him by only an inch, but he seems so much more dominant as Deacon hesitates but stays his ground. He is a pack leader after all, and

I curse my damn hormones and that damned haze moving in on me. My wolf wants to play, with him, in all kinds of dirty ways, she's

like this one bit. Just take it up with him when we leave and deal with him yourself." Deacon doesn't really seem to be getting the memo, and it dawns on me that much like I didn't know, he won't either, that

camp somewhere else with any willing to follow. Big packs like the Santos dominate entire regions because of previous generations splitting and setting up across the land, to make sure challenges and disputes don't arise when young males get too big for their own boots. There's always only one head alpha though, and Deacon assumes it's

I am! Now back the fuck up and listen to me, because this is how I say this is going to go." Colton snaps at him, making Deacon flinch with the intense crazy that came through with that response and he does seem to shrivel slightly. Colton was right. Deacon is a coward, and when he doesn't have a dart gun and a facility keeping wolf gifts at

Deacon truly is an idiot of epic proportions and much to my

he can see her. I can't. I can smell the sub pack on the wind, blowing gently this way, but there's nothing but shadows