Fated for Two

Farrah felt her heart race as she moved into a position that would allow her to lean over Everard’s lap. She leaned in and took his hard length into her mouth.

Everard moaned and grunted his pleasure for a bit, then he placed his hand on the back of her head. With the moving of his hand, he encouraged her movements and was soon panting.

When Everard’s hips began to move slightly, Farrah looked up to find Brenton holding him in place. She knew if Everard moved around too much his stitches would pop and none of them wanted to have to explain how it had happened to the doctor. Her eyes moved even further up to find Everard’s head thrown back against Brenton’s shoulder. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was slightly open with soft moans coming from it.

Brenton, however, was watching her. His eyes were hooded and dark, almost as if it were him that she was pleasuring.

As her own eyes began to close, Everard whispered, “So, close. Please, baby, harder, faster.”

She did as he requested and felt his hips move more. She heard Everard give a whimper just before he exploded, and Brenton gave a grunt of his own. When she pulled back it was to find both men leaning back with their eyes closed. There was a look of satisfaction on both of their faces that had her smiling.

Brenton’s eyes opened first, and he glanced down at Everard’s face where his head still rested on his shoulder. “I think he went to sleep.”

Farrah stifled a giggle with her hand as she realized Brenton was right. Easing off the bed, she whispered, “I’ll go and start something for us to eat. He’s going to be hungry when he awakens.”

Brenton gave her a nod and lay his head back against the headboard. Closing his own eyes, he decided to wait until Everard was well asleep, then he’d move him over and get up.

He wrinkled his nose at the feel of his own juices coating his boxer briefs. Everard’s pleasure had brought on his own and he couldn’t help but find his own release along with him. Now he needed clean clothes and he needed to clean Everard up before covering him. His body failed him though, and he soon found himself falling asleep, holding Everard to him so he wouldn’t move and pull his stitches.

It was almost an hour later when Farrah returned to the bedroom. Stepping inside, she stopped and stared. Brenton and Everard were laying just as she’d left them, sleeping. Shaking her head, she stepped forward and gently shook Brenton’s shoulder.

When his eyes blinked open, she whispered, “I have something ready for us to eat. Do you want to wake him and help him to the bathroom, maybe help him dress?”

Brenton nodded and Farrah turned and left the room.

Brenton leaned in and whispered in Everard’s ear, “Everard, it’s time to get up. Farrah has fixed us something to eat.”

Everard’s eyes fluttered open just as his belly gave a rumble.

Brenton chuckled and slowly began to ease the two of them up. “I think we both need a shower, my wolf brother. I am a mess and you still have a bit of blood on you.”

“Shower,” Everard croaked out as he weaved in place. “Yeah, a shower would be nice, but I’m not sure I could stand that long. I feel so weak Brenton.”

“It’s okay, just this once I’ll help you,” Brenton told him. He then teased, “Just don’t get used to being babied by me, that’s Farrah’s job.”

Everard chuckled as Brenton helped him walk to the bathroom, saying, “I remember a time when we took showers and baths together. We didn’t think anything about sitting there in the tub comparing whose dick was bigger.”

Brenton laughed and placed Everard on the toilet seat, so he could turn the shower on. “Yeah, but we were what? Four?”

“The first time we compared them, maybe. I seem to remember doing it again when we were older to see who was growing faster,” Everard answered as he laughed.

Brenton turned to give him a smirk and said, “I think I won both times.”

Everard snorted. “I think we finally stopped taking showers together when we were ten or eleven because Warren made some snide remark when he caught us. As a werewolf, I never thought much of us being naked together. My dad, your dad, their warriors, they were always standing around naked and talking. I talked to mom about it after Warren made his comment, she told me that when the men had to discuss things, then shift right back to their fur it made no sense to get dressed. She then went on to say that she didn’t want to see it, so not to be naked in front of her or any other woman. Besides, I just figured it gave us more time to do other things we’d rather be doing if we took them together.”

“Yeah, me too. At that age, I didn’t understand the need for baths anyway, just that Mom made me take them every night. I asked my mom too and she basically told me the same thing yours did,” Brenton stated as he stripped, then helped Everard up.

Getting inside the shower, he began to wash the blood from Everard’s body and hair, being careful not to touch the stitches. He then did a quick wash of his own as he continued his thought. “We knew that bath time meant bedtime and who wants to spend that time in the tub when you could be playing an awesome game or watching TV?”

Everard smiled from where he leaned weakly against the wall, saying, “I know, right? Well, they were good times anyway, despite Warren and his obnoxious ways.”

“Yeah, it was, good times,” Brenton agreed. He turned off the shower and got out. After drying himself, he dried Everard off and helped him back to the bedroom.

Everard was panting by the time they’d crossed the room and he was able to sit down on the bed. “I hate feeling like this. What if something happens and I’m needed? I can barely walk, much less run or fight.”

“You lost a lot of blood, blood your already weakened body couldn’t afford to lose,” Brenton reminded him. He turned to glance at Everard, pausing in his efforts to dig them something to wear from the suitcase he’d opened. “Everard, that’s what the warriors are in place for. After what happened today, I’ve got some running the perimeter here, we’ll be fine. You just concentrate on getting better.”

Everard huffed and muttered, “Easy for you to say, you aren’t weak as a newborn pup.”

Brenton walked over with a pair of shorts and ignoring Everard’s comment, he said, “We’ll just put these on you for now. Tomorrow you should be better, and it won’t hurt so much to try and dress.”

Everard nodded as Brenton knelt at his feet. He lifted one leg at a time, allowing Brenton to put them through the leg of the shorts, then carefully stood so they could be pulled up. He hissed as the stitches pulled slightly with his movement.

Brenton looked up, concerned as he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” Everard grunted through clenched teeth. “I would have thought it would have healed more than this by now.”

Brenton stood and quickly pulled on his own boxer briefs and shorts as he said, “You know as well as I do you don’t eat enough for your quick healing to work. The fact is, even if you did, the gash was deep, extremely deep, and would have taken even a healthy wolf more than one afternoon to heal.”

Everard headed for the door, saying nothing. What could he say really? Whether he liked it or not, Brenton was right.

“Hey, hold up there,” Brenton called. “You can’t go down those stairs on your own, you’ll pull something.”

Everard grunted but stopped, already weaving. For someone who told me he wasn’t going to baby me, he sure is doing a lot of it.

Brenton picked Everard up and walked down the stairs with him. He would have laughed at the pout on Everard’s face but feared even being weak Everard might try and punch him. He walked into the kitchen and Farrah turned from the counter where she was dishing out plates of food. She gave them a smile as Brenton paused in the kitchen doorway.

“Aw… you two are so cute!” Farrah exclaimed as she watched Brenton carefully place Everard in a kitchen chair.

Everard, who was still pouting, crossed his arms over his chest as he muttered, “I feel like such a girl being toted around.”

Farrah walked over to where Everard now sat in a chair and leaned down to kiss him. “Oh, Honey, I know for a fact you are no girl.”

A mischievous smile made its way over Everard’s face as he said, “When I get well, I’ll prove that to you in spades.”

“Mm… I look forward to it,” Farrah whispered as she kissed him again.

“Hey, where are my kisses? Do I have to be hurt to get them anymore?” Brenton asked in a teasing tone.

Farrah straightened and after wrapping her arms around Brenton’s neck she gave him a long, deep kiss. Pulling back, breathless, she asked, “Do you feel better now, Mr. Growly?”

Brenton gave her a quick kiss, then answered, “For now.”

Farrah went back to the counter to grab two of the plates. Placing them on the table before going for the third one, she asked, “So, how are you feeling Everard? I heard the shower, bet it feels good to be clean.”

Everard grunted and said, “It would be better if I could have done it for myself, but yes, I do feel much better.”

“Good, drinks?” Farrah questioned as she stood in the middle of the kitchen floor.

“I just want water,” Everard told her as he picked up his fork.

“Water is fine,” Brenton agreed.

Farrah nodded and grabbed three bottles of water from the refrigerator. She then sat them on the table before sitting herself.

They then got busy eating, but after a time, Farrah said, “So, Brenton, you said you plan to start looking for those papers.”

Taking a swallow of his water, Brenton nodded and answered, “I am. After the attack today I think our enemy is getting jumpy.”

“I agree, we need to find out what we’re up against,” Everard added.

“I’ve been thinking about something though,” Farrah said as she lay her fork down. Both men gave her their full attention. So, she began, “When it happened, we thought they were keeping us busy so they could search the house, but I don’t think that was it at all. They had to know they wouldn’t have time to do that, even if backup did have to come from the pack-house.”

“So, what do you think their idea was?” Brenton asked.

Farrah looked over at Everard with a sad look, then hung her head.

“Farrah?” Everard questioned softly.

“I think the plan was to kill Everard,” she whispered in a barely audible voice.

Brenton stared at her, unsure if he’d heard her right since she’d spoken so low. He growled, “What did you say?”

Farrah looked up, tears in her eyes, “I think the plan was to kill Everard. Think about it, those rogues had the three of us outnumbered, even with you being an alpha. The mole must know that Everard isn’t as healthy as he should be if he’s had him watched. He possibly knew the moment that Everard was too weak to shift into his fur anymore.”

“Take out the weakest first, it’s almost an enemy code,” Everard whispered.

“Yes. I know that’s what I did,” Farrah admitted. “I knew I couldn’t fight for long because I have no stamina or much in the line of fighting skills, something I plan to change. Anyway, I looked for the weakest-looking rogue and went for it. Most of the rogues went after you, Brenton, they knew it would take strength in numbers to take the alpha down. While they kept you busy, two of them tried to take Everard down. They made sure he had a crippling injury, an injury that would have killed him if the warriors hadn’t shown up.”

“Warriors that wouldn’t have been here as fast as they were if I hadn’t already posted them close,” Brenton admitted. “Why Everard though? I mean, before they wanted to take me out, why the switch?”

Farrah hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “If we’re right about the uncle, he wants Steward land. Perhaps he now has an heir and believes that the Steward land will be theirs if Everard is dead? Maybe he has enough men he figures once he establishes himself here, he can then take you out.”

“That would make sense,” Everard agreed. “Your pack is much stronger than mine, my pack would be easy to take out if they have to. Your pack, however, wouldn’t go down without a fight to avenge their alpha.”

Brenton nodded as he said, “I suppose, and the original plan was to acquire your pack.”

“That was the whole reason for sending Fiona in,” Everard agreed.

“Now, if I could just find those papers…” Brenton muttered as he pushed his chair back from the table. “I just wish I knew if there are actually papers to be found.”

“There has to be something, Brenton,” Farrah said. “Why would they be tossing your office and Everard’s if there wasn’t? I’m not saying that my theory is correct, but for them to go to all that effort, multiple times, they have to be looking for something.”

Brenton scrubbed a hand through his hair as he sighed. He looked at Everard and told him, “I wasn’t going to say anything, because you don’t need the added stress right now…”

“What, what happened?” Everard questioned when Brenton stopped talking.

“I went back to your house to get clothes for the three of us,” Brenton told him. “When I got there the door lock was broken and the house had been tossed. They even went as far as to slice the beds up as if they thought you would be hiding something there.”

“My house… all I had left of my family,” Everard whimpered.

Farrah stood and moved over to hold him tightly. Everard wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his head on her stomach as he breathed heavily.

“It… it’s pretty much destroyed Everard,” Brenton admitted. “They broke furniture and shredded drapes. There was a whole lot of anger behind what was done. They aren’t finding what they want, and if Farrah is right, they now know you survived the attack.”

“They’ll attack again soon,” Farrah whispered. “Tossing his house that way was them declaring war against us.”

Brenton took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I believe you’re right.”