Why did their society have to be dead set against them?
14
Dash struggled against a wave of emotion before finally forcing himself to walk away, a sting coming to the backs of his eyes as he reached the door out onto the deck. He could feel Emerson’s gaze on his back and the lack of it as soon as the door closed behind him. Pausing on the deck, he took a deep breath, the strong scent of salty water and seaweed filling his nose.
Maybe it would wipe away the alpha’s aroma of spice and wood.
The morning was gray, the threat of rain lingering above. Clouds hid the sun. A stiff breeze blew over him, causing the boat to rock. He turned back and eyed the door. Behind it, it had been warm and sunny.
Emersonhad been warm and sunny.
He sighed, longing for something they couldn’t have.
A ship’s horn made him jump, knocking him out of his tormented thoughts. In the rain and dark, he’d not been able to see where they’d been very well. The marina was an older one, close to the port docks. Large ships and tankers loomed in the distance—too far for anyone working there to see or hear them.
Remembering his concern about being watched, Dash searched around but saw no one nearby. He leapt to the dock and strode down it, trying to keep a watchful eye in every direction without drawing attention. No one seemed to be out and about down the dock Emerson was moored to. There were more empty slips than he’d noticed the night before, so perhaps everyone had already left to work or play out in the bay. Or there were few boats docked there.
Either way, it was a good thing, even if a bit eerie in its isolation. He didn’t need eyes on his departure. He didn’t feel like he was being watched, either.
The area wasn’t a safe one, but he doubted Emerson worried too much with his size and stature. Few people would fuck with an alpha that big. He’d too often seen the way people went out of their way to avoid Mason, and he was a beta without the added alpha strength.
Once Dash had made it back on land, he scanned around to get his bearings. They were on the fringes of the warehouse district where the Dragon was located. He considered heading for his car but remembered what Randall had suggested about leaving it be for a while. On foot, it was.
A few blocks down from the marina, he was able to snag a passing trolley headed towards home. Dash glanced behind him, a sliver of the marina in view for a few seconds before it was gone. His stomach twisted painfully. The desire to return to that warm bed and even warmer man screamed in his blood. When he turned to face forward, he was glad it was Saturday. Few people rode the trolley that early on the weekend, at least in that part of town, it seemed. He climbed over to an empty bench seat and sat down, wincing when he dropped too quickly.
Adjusting himself, he fought a smile. The lingering soreness was proof of what they’d done.
Proof that hewasn’tcold and unfeeling.
Proof that in another world, he could have more than what he’d allowed himself.
Maybe that wasn’t a good thing to know, because he might end up craving more. Fatigue set in as the trolley crossed town, picking up a few more riders. It was almost half full by the time they reached his neighborhood. Dash leapt off and walked a few blocks until he turned onto his street, thankful to finally be home. As soon as he neared, he noticed his front door was wide open. A slow sense of panic crept up his spine. His training kicking in, he kept it in check and fingered the extendable baton in his pocket as he approached.
He paused beside the door, peeking in as he pulled out the baton. Flexing his arm, he extended it to full length. Dash didn’t see any movement inside. Nothing looked out of place from what little he could see. As gently as possible, he pressed the button on the storm door and opened it at a measured pace. His heart sped up a bit, but it was nowhere near as wild and frantic as it had been last night.
But this was the kind of scenario the Black Guard had trained him for. Last nighthadn’tbeen.
Dash slipped inside, creeping on his toes. He scanned the living room, where his television was on, blaring about something found the previous night. A noise came from his kitchen, so he snuck down the long hallway towards the back of the house, lifting his baton. Inches from the kitchen entrance, the massive intruder whipped out and Dash swung the baton.
And narrowly missed Mason, catching himself at the last second.
A bowl of cereal crashed to the floor, milk and flakes going every which way as Mason slammed him against the wall, arm to throat.
“What the fuck?”Mason asked.
They both stared at one another in shock for a second.
“Where the hell have you been?”Mason roared at the same time Dash asked,“What’re you doing here?”
“You first,”Mason snapped, brows deeply furrowed as he backed up and gave Dash room.
“When did I start having to detail my whereabouts to you?”
Mason glared. “Since there was a dead alpha found downtown last night—right after the raid by the Guard.”
“Oh, shit,”Dash murmured.
All the texts suddenly made sense. A wave of guilt washed over him for dismissing them.
