After Dawn, What Came Next

He would be damned if he would add last night to that very long list of mistakes. He didn’t regret a thing about last night. Only that it had served to sever the last remaining tie between them. He had released her from her promise and given her wings. And how could he possibly regret that?

When Fallon was ready she would come to him. If she had something important to tell him, she would say it. And if the two of them had created a child, they would raise it, together. Maybe not as husband and wife, but on a united front as parents. If Fallon in her newly found freedom chose Catcher, she could have him. If she was hell bent on pursuing him instead, she could try. But, she would have to take him exactly as she had found him, damaged, heartless, and with absolutely nothing of worth to offer. Even at that though there were no guarantees.

Catcher slicked back his hair. Freshly showered and changed into the clothes Janine had provided for him. He had to admit. He cleaned up quite nicely. He was going to give this being himself, but toning it down a notch strategy another try. He had the roses, the candy, and a head full of ideas of how to win a woman’s heart. He had never gotten nervous on the hunt before, but he was shaking in his boots now. Hunting he understood. There was but one of two options. Either you were the predator or you were the prey. Women weren’t so simple to pursue and then it wasn’t only the pursuit, but the capture of a prey so damnably confusing.

Tracker admired Janine’s handiwork. Catcher still had enough of an edge that he could not be mistaken for him and was most definitely his own man. For twins they couldn’t have turned out more differently. Tracker had never understood how people couldn’t tell them apart. To him, their differences were crystal clear. He was the prettier one. “You know, I heard you strongly resemble your older brother.”

“Poor bastard,” Catcher chuckled. “No one ever said you were born first.”

“But I was.”

“Perhaps.” Catcher looked up into the mirror and pinned his brother with a glance. “Do you ever think about her? What it would be like to actually meet our birth mother?”

“No. I figure she didn’t have any more of a choice in the matter than we did. We were taken away straight out of the womb. She wouldn’t know us nor would we know her. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I suppose.”

Tracker slapped his twin on the back and pulled him into a one-armed man hug. He was quick to change the subject away from speculation about the identity of the woman who had born them into the world. The scientists, their true parents, were thorough. They would have covered all their bases. Catcher and he were nothing more than the result of one successful experiment out of dozens of previous ones that had failed. Did that make them stronger than the brothers and sisters that had never survived? Tracker supposed, in a way, it did. Was their mother stronger, more determined to bring them into the world, or simply just luckier than the other surrogates? Perhaps she was. Was. Her identity though, he had never given it nothing more than a fleeting thought. His family ties were in the present and looked toward the future, not the past.

Catcher’s line of thought wouldn’t end in anything but pain. They were the first and last omegas. Born the sons of all and children of none. Birthed in flesh and blood but spawned in a test tube out of bits and pieces of genetic material, the best of the best, taken from hundreds of potential parents. They had no mother or father. Better Catcher think to his own future than to dwell on his past. “You going to make another try for the girl?”

“Of course.” Catcher straightened the collar on his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. He grinned at Tracker’s thumbs up approval of the flowers and candy. Arching a brow he wondered if his brother had any final departing words of wisdom.

“Well, good luck, brother.” Tracker said, clearing his throat. Sending Catcher out into the world on a first date, hopefully first date, was a little reminiscent of shooing Phoenix out the door for her first big girl slumber party at Barbara’s house. Tracker was a little misty eyed and had the strongest urge to snatch Catcher by the collar and ground him for the rest of his natural life.

“The hunt is a game of skill, not chance,” Catcher said. He was very skilled in the art of hunting and he had never lost the prey yet.

“Um yeah. Good luck just the same,” Tracker said. He had tons of advice weighing down the tip of his tongue, but kept it to himself. Tracker had done all he could to give Catcher an edge. The rest was up to him and to whatever lucky female he finally landed in his sights. Fallon could be the one or she could simply be a warm up round for the real one just waiting for a man like Catcher to finally show up. Time would tell.





Chapter 51

Fallon missed the girl time she used to spend with Marianne. They would sit on the edge of the bed talking and giggling for hours over anything that popped into their heads. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the edge of her bed now, but they weren’t giggling and the main topic of discussion was not exactly anything to giggle about. Of course, Marianne was biased on the subject of her brother. What faithful sister wouldn’t be? Her words weren’t ones of praise, which surprised Fallon, but ones of caution. Mouse didn’t mind the idea of the two of them pairing up. She did mind that Daniel might break her heart. Well, Mouse didn’t need to worry so much about that. As far as Daniel was concerned, Fallon didn’t have a heart left to break anymore.

Mouse had changed over the years and so had she. Where her best friend had gotten softer she had gotten harder. Fallon used to be the daydreamer and Mouse the pragmatic realist. Now she was the practical, almost brutally so, realist and Mouse the one with her head in the clouds. Mouse’s visions of the future were broader and more general, lending themselves to the pack as a whole. Fallon had narrowed down the world, at least her world, to a few brilliant points of light.

Fallon congratulated Mouse on the change in leadership. Fallon was not on the council selected to govern the pack and that was ok. Fallon truly didn’t want to be. So far, the council had big ideas and the frustrating task of putting them into action. Banning meatloaf Monday was just the start of the bigger goals the group had in mind. A bunch strong willed, hard headed, and determined individuals used to standing on their own and doing things their way, people like Nash, Eloise, Mouse, Torr, and the Great White Wolf, gathered around a table and reaching a group decision about anything, even if it was meatloaf Monday, was impressive.

Fallon politely listened to Mouse prattle on and on about the things the council wanted to change. Just to prompt her in the exercise of patience, Mouse had printed off a copy of the Change Theory and carried it around in her hip pocket. The idea was that after the council had narrowed down an endless list of options to just a few the pack would vote and decide the final verdict. Fallon hadn’t voted for or against meatloaf Monday. It wasn’t that she wasn’t all for democracy or shared governance. It was that in the grander scheme of things meatloaf wasn’t all that important.

Fallon wished Mouse would just get to the point. Which was, no doubt, primarily a sisterly endorsement of her brother’s finer attributes. Daniel had several finer points, but Fallon seriously hoped Mouse didn’t know about them. The truth of it was, not one of the finer things Fallon could call to mind about Daniel necessarily made him a decent human being. She hated that Daniel had been reduced to the status of lover way back in the distant corners of her mind. It would have been better and she would have been better off never knowing him in that way at all than to think of him as a lover and nothing else. Better she was still living the dream than fumbling her way through the reality of him.

Marianne reached up to tug on her non-existent braid and then dropped her hands in her lap. Despite the cool confidence she radiated on the exterior, a necessary trait in a leader. On the inside she was fidgety and nervous to be discussing Daniel with Fallon. What could she say about her middle brother? Daniel was trying… in a number of ways. He wanted so many things and was searching valiantly to reach a middle ground of peace with each of them. Fallon was one of those things… one of those people he needed to come to peace with.

Daniel had never been very good at being honest with his feelings or himself. Out of her and her oldest brother, he felt more, cared deeper, and loved purer than the two of them. He had never quite managed to get over their mother’s death or their father’s long emotional absence afterwards. He resented being born in the middle, neither the adored baby of the family or the revered eldest son. He had always felt he stood in Tristan’s shadow and just shy of her light and had no place that was truly his own. Daniel was a fighter and he had battled long and hard to carve his mark upon the world. Marianne didn’t need to tell Fallon any of those things though. Fallon already knew them.

Fallon had always seen past Daniel’s bullshit and deep into the heart of who he truly was. She had fallen in love with a battered and bruised little boy turned overnight into a man. Fallon was so young herself at the time, too young for the intensity of such an emotion as love. Time and to a certain degree, Daniel’s long absence had changed Fallon. She was different, harder and not as tender around the edges as she once had been. She loved, just as deeply as always, but she was guarded about the people she chose to share her heart with. She had watched the family around her as it blossomed and grew. She delivered the babies and eased the elderly as much as she could in their final days. Fallon was an intimate piece of the puzzle that was pack life. But, Marianne wondered, had Fallon ever truly had a life of her own? How many of the things Fallon had wanted for her self had she actually gotten?

Marianne didn’t think Fallon was bitter about how much of life had passed her by. She couldn’t see Fallon as angry or as one to count her losses instead of her blessings. It was just that Fallon had grown weary of standing by that window night after night keeping a little girl’s promise and waiting steadfastly for Daniel to return. Daniel was back and perhaps what had transpired last night between the two of them was simply one of those things that had to happen, an act of the fulfillment of a promise instead of one symbolizing the beginning of better things yet to come.

Fallon wanted desperately to move on with her life. Marianne knew her best friend too well to think otherwise. Daniel was finally getting his life in play after so many years of it being on pause. Marianne wanted to tell Fallon not to give up, but it was pointless advice. Daniel had already broken her heart once and Fallon was not one to repeat the same mistake twice. “About Daniel…”

Fallon held up a hand to cut off whatever it was Mouse was about to say about her brother. “Don’t.” Fallon shook her head and refused to acknowledge the almost pitying expression on Mouse’s face. How could she best explain her feelings regarding Daniel to his little sister and her best friend? She still loved Daniel, but was not quite the optimist she had once been. Nor was she the little girl stupidly promising to wait for him.

She was a healer, but she could not heal Daniel. Daniel was broken in a way that might never be fixed. Love wouldn’t be enough to put him back together again or to help her maintain what level of sanity she had left. Last night had been wonderful and necessary, but it was over and done. It was the worst case scenario of give and take, pleasure and pain, and of two desperate people using each other to meet their own selfish ends. “I know who Daniel is and I know who I am. The two of us together…Mouse, I’m sorry, but it just isn’t going to happen. I don’t think there is a happy ending, at least for the two of us.”

Marianne sighed and nodded in resignation. She just wanted Fallon and Daniel to be happy no matter where or whom they found their happiness with. Daniel wasn’t at the point in his life where he could make a decision about his future and Fallon was far beyond the place where she needed to. As long as Daniel stayed put and Fallon stayed single, there was still hope though. It didn’t matter if the two of them had given up on each other or not. She hadn’t given up on either of them.

Determined to maintain the bonds of their friendship, Marianne dropped the subject of Daniel completely. They talked like they had in the old days, giggling like schoolgirls, perched on the edge of the bed and whispering to one another of the less important things in life.

Fallon stopped mid chuckle and hopped up from the bed to answer a knock at her door. These days her bedroom was like Grand Central Station more than a place of dreams and comfortable respite. Her bedroom had seen more traffic in the last two days than it had in…well, since ever. Expecting to see her dad, checking in to give her a pep talk and no doubt revel in the many ways he had kicked Daniel’s ass. She was shocked to have a dozen red roses and a box of chocolates thrust under her nose instead. “Ah…Trac…I mean, Catcher…hi.”

Fallon was adorable dressed in sweats and a baggy t-shirt, looking so comfortable and ready to bed down for the night. Her hair was bound up into a high, messy ponytail with tendrils escaping the elastic band to curl around the long, graceful arc of her neck. Her breasts no longer supported by a bra swayed full and freely. The nipples stiffening to taut peeks beneath her t-shirt as a result of her sudden flush of feminine awareness to his nearness in the cramped doorway. Maybe, roses and chocolate really were the ticket…at least to some parts of a woman.

“Am I intruding?” Catcher dipped his head in deference to Marianne and greeted her courtly with a mumbled, “Mistress,” out of respect for her position in the pack. But, as soon as the formalities were over, his attention zinged back to Fallon. She smiled at him politely over the roses and glancing down at the box of chocolates, licked her lips in eager appreciation of the sweet treat. He turned up the charm, just a notch, and returned her smile.

Fallon wondered if it would be considered rude to slam the door in Catcher’s face and fall into a mass of feminine giggles while devouring the chocolates with Mouse as her partner in caloric crime. Probably so. She stepped aside and motioned Catcher in. He did look fine, just as pretty in the roses in his own right, dressed in a pair of snug fitting, ass cupping blue jeans and a button down shirt molded to his broad shoulders.

Blue really was his color and Janine, who had undoubtedly advised him in the wardrobe department, had really outdone herself this time. He wore his hair braided in a neat French braid that swung like a pendulum between his impossibly broad shoulders. Catcher carried his massive frame with unimaginable grace. As if he were so sure of where every footstep would fall before he took it. It was just the aura surrounding him that had her about to melt like a thick, sticky scoop of ice cream dropped onto the sidewalk on a summer’s day. The man could do sensuality and promised sinful pleasure. He wore it like a second skin. And yeah, it did have the desired affect on her. She wanted to stash the flowers and shove the box of chocolates into Mouse’s hands as a lovely consolation prize, throw her out the door, and get busy with Catcher on the bed, the floor, or anywhere else he wanted to.

Damn, she was in serious trouble here. Serious, serious trouble. Her female hormones were doing jumping jacks in her system, causing her heart to pound and her palms to sweat, and more than a few of her most sensitive places to tingle with arousal from nothing more than just a whiff of his natural fragrance and the sight of such a fine specimen of man flesh.

Marianne knew when she had worn out her welcome and she definitely had. She bounced up off the bed, casting a suspicious eye at the flowers and the candy and at the man who wielded them. Fallon was in deep shit. Marianne had the sudden urge to douse the two of them with a garden hose to cool things off a bit. Fallon’s wolf hormones played hell with her human side and there was really no contest about which side of her or which man was going to win. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be Daniel, not if he didn’t step up on his game.

Catcher was doing what came natural to him. He had come here to seek a mate and was pulling out all the stops to find one. Fallon was ready to move on with her life and might very well get swept up in Catcher’s wake if she wasn’t careful. Moving on with her life to careen over the edge of a cliff wasn’t exactly what Marianne had in mind for her best friend. But, what could she really do to stop it? It was the same damnable game that had been pairing up couples since the beginning of time. Survival of the fittest, nature versus nurture, Darwinism, and in the end, nature always won.

“Well, I should get going. The girls have probably tortured their father enough for one day.” Marianne shuffled to the door, giving Catcher a very wide berth. He took up the oxygen in the room with nothing more than his overwhelming presence. She was a very happily married woman, but being in the immediate proximity of him and the masculine vibes he threw out had her knees knocking and palms sweating. Most women loathed admitting the truth. They accused men of thinking with their little brain and not their big one, but women thought with the feminine version of that particular organ too, more often than they would ever confess to. She needed to get the girls to bed and then, not that it ever took too much coaxing, get Evan into bed before she burst into flames from spontaneous combustion.

Fallon nodded not really paying any heed to Mouse’s abrupt departure. All her attention was focused on Catcher. He drew her in, sending her spiraling in an inexorable tailspin of lust and desire. She barely knew him. Assuming just because he was an exact carbon copy of his twin meant they were exactly the same men on the inside was a very narrow way to see him. Catcher was his own man and she needed to get to know him for him. “Ummm, the flowers are pretty. Thank you.”

With trembling fingers she opened the box of chocolates, stuffing a heart shaped truffle into her mouth before she could say something stupid. The sweetness of the candy was a distraction from the sweetness of the man, eying her as if he’d like to devour her with the same eagerness as she plucked a second piece of chocolate from the box and popped it into her mouth. As an afterthought, she extended the box to him. Watching, as if it would give her some kind of clue about the man he truly was, what piece he chose.

Catcher hated chocolate. He had never developed the taste for sweets, for sweet things like Fallon, yes, but not for candy. He didn’t inspect the pieces to see which one might be at the very minimum tolerable to his taste buds. He chose a random selection and popped it into his mouth without a second thought. Fallon might not realize the depth of the offering, feeding him from her hand, but the gesture was not lost on him. She had the capability to have any male she desired eating out of the palm of her hand and he was sampling but a taste and a very, very sweet taste it was.

Catcher chose a piece from the very back of the box. Not from the center or one of the outer corners where the best ones were. His chocolate was one of the weird pieces thrown in as an afterthought or a preamble to the better pieces in the center. Had he chosen one of the ones filled with gooey fruit filling because he knew those were the pieces nobody really liked? Or did he generally like the things others passed by in preference of something better? He was polite enough about it, forcing the candy and its gooey center down his throat with a hard swallow instead of spitting it out like she would have done.