To my mom who, like me, suffers from migraines.

To my dad, who gets to suffer through my mother having a migraine. Trust me; it’s no more fun for the family than it is for the sufferer.

To Dusty, who’s helped me figure out what my triggers are and how to avoid them. Yanking the roast beef sandwich out of my hand and eating it yourself was such a sacrifice. I know you’re still not over the pain.

And to everyone else out there who, like me, has suffered through what Dave does, you have my sympathy.

Benjamin Malone shivered in the dark, praying no one would find him. If they did, they might “help” him, and the last thing Ben needed was the Pack’s form of help. Because if they found him, the first thing they’d do would be to return him to his father.

“Benny?”

He held still, praying, hoping Steve would just go away. Steven Hoode was his best friend. He knew all about Ben’s father, knew about the drinking binges, the fights, the emotional blackmail. The fists that left behind bruises no one else could see.

He always wondered why the Alpha didn’t do something about his father. He had to know what was going on! Or the Marshall, the Alpha’s enforcer, the one who felt the physical well-being of the entire Pack; how could the man feel what was going on and not do something? The Omega felt the emotional state of the Pack members; why didn’t he make it stop?

But no one helped him. No one cared except a few friends his own age. The entire Pack turned a blind eye to his father’s blows, the drunken rampages. Walter Malone was careful to keep his drinking to himself, hiding it from others, but there was no way in hell he was hiding it from the Pack leaders. Which, to Ben, meant they didn’t give a shit about the teenager hiding in the trees.

He thanked God every day that his parents only had one child. He couldn’t even imagine what it would have been like if his father had someone younger than him to hurt. Someone weaker. Someone Ben couldn’t protect. Hell, up until her death his mother hadn’t been able to protect herself. If the cancer hadn’t taken her, his father would have. Trying to protect someone when he could barely protect himself would have been a nightmare.

“C’mon, Benny. They’re headed this way.”

Shit. If his father found him cowering in the trees like a little girl he’d beat the shit out of him again. He might be a drunk, but his father was damn strong and still a lot bigger than Ben. Ben dropped to the ground, close to where he knew Steve was hiding.

“Let’s go.”

Steve. The full-human boy who lived not too far down the mountain, the one he wasn’t supposed to be friends with. The one who knew nothing of Packs and Alphas and men who turned into Wolves. If the Alpha found out he’d let a human onto Pack lands his father would be the least of his worries. The Alpha might even go so far as to Outcast him, turn him out into the world without his Pack.

He’d rather suffer the beatings than that. To be Outcast was the worst form of punishment, forever cut off from the voice of the Alpha, the warmth of the Pack. Forever alone. He’d be a target for anyone from the shifter world who wanted a toy to play with or something to beat on just for the hell of it.

At least here he had hope that someday, when a new Alpha took over the Pack, he’d be safe.

Ben grabbed Steve’s hand and started running. Ben was even more terrified now that Steve was here. The Alpha could do serious damage to both of them if he caught them, and if he did catch them Steve probably wouldn’t survive. The Alpha firmly believed that humans and shifters should remain separated at all times no matter the circumstances. Anyone caught infringing on his rule would suffer the consequences. They’d probably never even find Steve’s body.

If Rick were here he’d help Ben hide the boy. Rick didn’t share his grandfather’s views on Pack life, but Rick wasn’t here. He was housebound, grounded for a week for trying to stand up to his grandfather. Ben had been proud of him. Someday, that scary redhead was going to challenge the Alpha, and Ben had every intention of standing right at his side when he did.

“Ben?”

Ben froze. Oh God. Oh no. He recognized that voice. He couldn’t be here if the Alpha caught them. Ben couldn’t protect him. “Go away, Dave!”

Dave Maldonado, fifteen years old and tempting as sin, stepped out from behind a bush. His light brown hair glittered in the moonlight like it was dusted with gold. His startling amber eyes were wide. He stared at the hand Ben had clamped around Steve’s, his own hands clenching. When the boy grew into those hands he was going to be huge. “What’s going on?”

Ben didn’t want to drag Dave into this. The kid wasn’t ready to face Ben’s dad, let alone the Alpha. “Go away.” He tightened his grip on Steve’s hand, ignoring the way his gut clenched at the thought of someone hurting Dave.

Dave’s gaze rose to his, the pain in them worrying Ben. “Where are you going?”

“Far away from here,” Steve muttered. He looked behind him. “Can we chat later, ladies?”

Ben jerked. He could hear the pursuit behind them, knew they had seconds before the others caught wind of them. “Gotta run. Listen, don’t tell anyone you saw us, okay?”

“But—”

“Dave!” Ben took a deep breath. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Dave nodded and rubbed at his forehead. “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”

And Ben took off, dragging his best friend behind him and leaving behind the boy he knew would someday be his mate.

“Mmm. That’s so good. Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t ever stop.”

Dave reached down and dug his fingers into the short, ebony strands. Wet heat surrounded his cock, damn near swallowing him whole. He resisted the urge to thrust up into the warm, willing mouth wrapped around him. He didn’t want to be too rough, was afraid he might cause damage to the man currently sucking him down.

He would never hurt his mate.

Strong fingers reached around and toyed with Dave’s balls, his mate’s nearly black eyes dancing wickedly. Dave thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He groaned, the tingle in his balls stronger now. He was close. So fucking close he could taste it. Tingling sparks of pure pleasure raced down his spine.

“Gonna.” That was all he could get out, his brain having short-circuited the minute that wet mouth hit his prick.

His mate nodded, his tongue stroking the head of Dave’s cock. He sucked on Dave’s cock like it was the last piece of man candy in the world and he was determined to get a piece.

Dave exploded into his mate’s mouth, the pleasure so intense he damn near blacked out. His whole body clenched as wave after wave of pure delight streamed from him into Ben Malone.

RING.

Dave stroked the dark fall of hair away from deep, almost black eyes and smiled. His mate’s lips parted, glistening, plump from the suction he’d had on Dave’s cock.

RING.

He frowned. What the fuck?

Ben’s brows rose, and his mouth opened once more. Inside, his tongue had become a cell phone.

RING.

Dave bolted upright, his sheets sticky, his body still heaving from the best orgasm he could ever remember having. He picked up his cell phone, took one look at the caller ID and threw it across the room. Whatever it was, Rick could wait. Dave was battling the mother of all headaches and wasn’t in the mood for much more than sleep.

Fuck it. He’d rather dream than live in reality anyway.

In dreams, he got to have his mate. He didn’t have to see the scorn in Ben’s eyes or hear the disgust in his voice when he spoke to Dave. Why fate had seen fit to give him a mate who hated him Dave didn’t know. Life would be so much easier if Ben’s mate had been that fucker Steve, the full-human he was always around.