Chapter7 Regrets

Gwyn used the lever to fold the front passenger seat forward and handed Harper into the back seat. To her surprise, he followed, closing the door behind him before pulling the seat back into position. The rear of the Ferrari was snug with a very big alpha werewolf sharing it with her, she thought.

"I have never ridden in the back before," Gwyn commented. "It's snugger than I imagined."

"You could have sat in the front," Harper told him, flustered, and fighting with the seatbelt.

Gwyn leaned over her, and she felt her heart race and her breath catch as the position brought his face within kissing distance. His stubble was beginning to pierce his skin, creating a shadow on his jaw against which his lips were soft and lush, enticing her to taste them.

Gwyn's eyes met hers as he pulled the seatbelt over her and the back of his hand brushed over her hip as he plugged it in, before, ever so slowly, leaning back into his seat in order to put on his own seatbelt.

Dorian pulled out into traffic and automatically turned towards the house that he had always known as home.

"Not that way," Harper said.

"Of course," Dorian's voice was gruff. "I forgot for a moment that…"

Gwyn's knee brushed hers with the motion of the car as Dorian pulled a u-turn. "Was it… Frightening?" He asked his voice quiet. "The collars?"

She looked at her hands in her lap and forced her hands to release their grip, setting each palm down on her thighs in a deliberate effort to appear more relaxed.

"You did the right thing in leaving," she told him again, and reached out and took his hand, the feel of his palm in hers so familiar and yet also so foreign, as memory and reality fought.

They might be massive, powerful men, she thought, but they were also sons who had been forced to make an impossible choice to leave parent, home, and pack behind, and she would offer what comfort she could. His fingers closed around her hand, and his skin was warm against hers. She wanted nothing more than to sigh and lean her head against his shoulder as she would have done in the past, right up until she turned eighteen…

But five years, adulthood, and a un-fulfilled mate bond restrained her.

"I am not going to say anything to make you regret that choice. Take the next right," she added to Dorian. "And slow down, there are potholes that will cause havoc with your suspension."

As they entered the werewolf neighbourhood, the standard of housing and the maintenance declined suddenly, bins overflowing with uncollected refuse, broken windows boarded up as replacing the glass was too expensive, graffiti layered on walls, and the roads riddled with potholes and poor patch jobs. Very few of the streetlights worked, and Dorian turned up the headlights to compensate.

"F-k," Dorian murmured, appalled.

"You have not seen a werewolf housing community before?" She asked. "Pretty, isn't it? Turn left up here and it's the fourth house on the left. Did you…" She was half distracted by releasing the seatbelt and only just caught herself, pausing and chewing her bottom lip.

"It" is probably not safe," Dorian said his voice very soft as he pulled the Ferrari up in front of the house. "For us to come in. And dad was… very angry with our decision."

"No, of course you are right," she nodded. "It is not safe. But…" She put on hand onto his shoulder as Gwyn slid the front passenger seat forward, opened the door and got out onto the sidewalk. "The anger… I don't think it's there anymore, Dorian. They don't speak of it with me, I think it's just too sad for them. They will… They will be sad to have missed seeing you."

His hand covered hers and he turned his head so that her lips brushed his cheek. "We are going to do something, Harper," he said with quiet determination. "We will find a way to help."

She leaned forward and pressed her lips firmly to his cheek in a chaste kiss. "don't be stupid, Dorian, and risk yourselves for us," she told him, and squeezed his shoulder before sliding out of the car.

"Well," Gwyn's hand lingered on her elbow. "We will see you again soon, Harper," he promised with a slight smile. "Even if all we can do is tip you really well for a lot of private dances."

"You'll enjoy that," she found herself smiling in reply.

"You have no idea how much," his voice and eyes darkened, and he inclined closer his grey-blue eyes holding her hypnotized. He pressed his cheek against hers. "You will be in my dreams," he breathed into her ear, and she shivered, feeling the current of sexual energy pass between them over the mate-bond.

He leaned back and smiled, his eyes smouldering.

"Goodnight, Gwyn," she said.

"Goodnight, Harper," he barely breathed the words, and she felt both of their eyes on her as she went to the door and let herself inside. They did not drive off until the door closed behind her.

"Harper," Connery said softly, and she sighed, turning to face him.

He wore loose-fitting grey t-shirt and dark sweatpants that were thinning at the knee, clothing that he had pulled on when he had heard the car arrive out front, she knew, as most werewolves slept in their skin.

"I'm sorry to have woken you," she said honestly, because she had hoped to have some time to think before speaking to Connery Hemming about the return of his sons.

"That was Gwyn, by the Ferrari," his voice was tight. "so, I assume Dorian was driving?"

"Yes," she sighed it out. "They are back, and they want to help."

"And you told them there was nothing they could do and that they should keep themselves safe?" It was a statement more than a question.

"Yes," she nodded. "That is exactly what I told them."

He released his breath. "Good."

"They are… well," she told him hesitantly. 'successful, rich, but also, very… fit and healthy," remembering just how fit and healthy was dangerous around other werewolves - who could scent changes in pheromones caused by arousal. That would be an uncomfortable conversation, she reprimanded herself as she suppressed the memory firmly. "And they miss you and think of their family and pack."

He inclined his head. "Thank you, Harper. You'd best get to bed, it's late. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

She watched him return to his bedroom without moving, not wanting the air to carry her scent to him, and only continued down the hall once the bedroom door was closed.

She brushed her teeth in the one bathroom in the house. The tiles were lifting on the splashback, she noticed, and the ceramic sink was chipped and sported so many hairline fractures that she expected that one day it would simply shatter into a million tiny shards. The mirror over the sink was silvering at the edges and was cracked across the corner, held in place by glue and luck.

She sighed as she removed her make up, carefully wiping around the sink to leave it clean for the morning, before making her way to her small bedroom and laying down on the sagging mattress.

Dorian and Gwyn were back, she thought, her eyes closed and body still, but her mind restless. Dorian and Gwyn were back, and the mate-bond was still there, still as strong, despite their rejection of her. And they were sexier than ever.

She blew out a breath and stroked her hand down her stomach, bringing herself to orgasm using the memory of their bodies against hers.