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  Wild Shores

  M/M NAVY SEAL – Sailing Deep BOOK TWO

  Noah Harris

  © 2016

  Disclaimer

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are all invented for the reader’s desire. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all unintentional.

  This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for a MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY.

  Table of content

  Summary

  IMPORTANT

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Summary

  Dylan and Blake have been together for nearly two months, but an unexpected absence from Blake leaves Dylan feeling doubtful. When his doubts start to affect his performance, he’s put on mandatory leave, in hopes that he’ll recover from the time spent in the Shadow Pack. Luckily, his cousin’s upcoming wedding provides a good excuse to go home and visit family.

  His relaxing vacation proves to be more stressful than anticipated when he finds out that his cousin’s fiancé is none other than his ex-boyfriend and Blake’s older brother. Dylan must find a way to juggle his family obligations, his fluctuating feelings for Blake, and the haunting nostalgic longing for his first boyfriend and lover. Meanwhile, Blake has to deal with an overbearing and jealous brother, the fact that his lover is pulling away from him, and the suspicious feeling that Dylan is hiding something from him. No one ever said life would be easy, but neither of them is willing to give up or give in.

  IMPORTANT

  Hello, Sweet pie! For this book to make sense I highly encourage you to read BOOK ONE of Sailing Deep. CLICK HERE to read book one. (authornoah.com/sailingdeep)

  Chapter One

  Pain blossomed through Dylan’s side as Mason landed a punch. Dylan grunted, clenching his teeth as the brief spark of pain receded. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he lashed out again. Mason easy dodged it by sidestepping and moved forward. He ducked and let Dylan’s follow-up throw go over his head, dropping to the floor and lashing out with a sweep of his leg. Dylan’s eyes widened in surprise as his legs went out from under him. Next thing he knew, he was staring up at the ceiling.

  He sighed, letting his body relax. He was sore from the beating and sore from his fall. He let his hands unclench.

  “What the hell was that?” Mason’s face appeared in his vision as the man hovered over him. He was frowning, but his expression was full of concern. He held out a hand for Dylan to take, which he did gratefully.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Dylan said through gritted teeth as Mason pulled him to his feet. The man was a vampire, and as such, he was slim and lanky, but deceptively strong.

  “Bullshit. You always beat me in the training ring, yet you let me land so many hits on you that I lost count.”

  Dylan pulled his hand away and ran it through his hair, which had been cut short again to military standard. He scratched the back of his neck and looked away, unable to keep eye contact. He pressed his lips together because he had nothing to say. Mason was right. Usually, Dylan was a top-notch fighter in the training ring, especially with one on ones. He could put even the biggest alphas on their backs on a good day, and nearly always beat the vampires. They were quick and sturdy, but Dylan had a sharp eye and finely honed reflexes. Yet somehow Mason had been able to get through all of his defenses, he had been reacting too slowly, and he had acted recklessly. Dylan couldn’t remember ever being this distracted while training, and the worst part was, he wasn’t necessarily thinking about anything. It was just the way he felt. The emotions he tried to keep stifled. The way his chest ached when his mind wandered. And in an attempt to force himself into laser focus, he ended up making it worst by being careless.

  “It’s nothing,” He said dismissively, turning his back on Mason under the guise of getting his water bottle.

  Mason snorted. “Nothing, my ass. Something’s up, and it’s not just today. You’ve been off ever since you got back from the Shadow Pack, but the past couple of weeks have been worse.”

  Dylan sighed, taking a seat on a bench. He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees. Mason sat next to him, his own water bottle in hand. The bottle itself was black to hide the color of the contents. Dylan knew very well that it was blood, but they did it out of respect for those who were still a little uncomfortable about it.

  “Look, I know you may not wanna talk to me about it.” Mason continued. “Hell, you might not wanna talk to anyone about it. But if you do, I’m here. If you keep this up, someone higher up is gonna notice, and you’re gonna be put on a health leave.”

  Dylan sighed again, shaking his head. “Thanks,” He muttered, trying to give the man a small smile of gratitude.

  He hated to admit it, but Mason was right. They had already tried to make him take a leave of absence to clear his head after his unexpected undercover mission and hasty escape from the Shadow Pack. Even though nothing terrible had happened to him and the pack had been determined to be non-threatening, it was still a month of high risk of exposure. That could get to a man, mentally and emotionally. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the job that had gotten to him emotionally. It had been another shifter by the name of Blake.

  Blake, who had been his fake mate, and in some ways his real mate, for weeks. Blake, who had awakened a desire for physical pleasure that Dylan had long thought had died. Blake, who had made him feel things he hadn’t wanted to feel. Blake, who had contacted him after his escape and put it in Dylan’s mind that they were indeed mates, despite the mission being over.

  Blake, the man who he hadn’t heard a word from in two weeks. The man who Dylan was starting to have doubts about. The man who had so quickly and firmly taken ahold of Dylan’s heart, but whose grip was so fragile that it was starting to fall apart in his absence.

  Dylan was starting to doubt whether any of his feelings for Blake had been real, or if they had just been a product of their predicament. Blake had used the situation against him, forcing him to act out the part of his mate. By doing so, Dylan had let him into his mind and his body, and he had eventually opened his heart. He had been convinced that his feelings were real. His loss of Blake after the blood moon had hurt. The joy he had felt when he received a text from Blake had been real.

  But now, after two weeks of silence, Dylan was starting to question himself. Everything had felt real, but that didn’t mean his feelings weren’t just a spur of the moment reaction. He had grown to care for Blake because he had to convince himself to be relaxed around him, to accept his touches as part of their cover. He had been captured by the enemy, thereby compromising himself, his team, and his mission. And Blake had saved him. Blake had been the only one he could trust. His only ally. That could do a lot to someone emotionally.

  He was starting to believe he had been a victim of circumstance, and the thought of that hurt. The longer he went without hearing from Blake, the more he dreaded it. He knew what he probably needed to do, but that didn’t mean it was going to be easy.

  And that chaos of emotions was starting to take a toll on him, to the point where his team was starting to notice.

  “I’m starting to wish I had taken th
at leave of absence after I got back,” Dylan muttered, taking a long sip from his water bottle.

  Mason chuckled, leaning back against the wall. “Most of us were surprised when you didn’t. You had gone in deep man, with no backup and no resources. And it was all so sudden. Yet you came out of it and got right back to work.”

  Dylan shrugged. “It seemed like the only logical thing to do. I felt like I needed to stay on board until the Shadow Pack situation had been resolved, and after that, I saw no reason to leave.” He shivered, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to go home to my parents.”

  Mason threw his head back and laughed. “I hear that! Man, going home to the family is the worst. Everything is always so different. You’re so different. Nothing feels the same anymore.” He got quiet, his laughter dying. “But at least you can go home to them.”

  Dylan glanced sideways at him. Mason was staring at his hands in his lap, gripping his water bottle tightly. His eyes looked far away. He was a relatively new vampire. He had only been turned a couple of decades ago, as far as Dylan remembered. So unlike the older vampires, he still had immediate family that was alive and aging.

  “How’s your sister?” He asked softly.

  The ghost of a smile played across Mason’s lips, and he shrugged. “Still alive and kicking. She’s now a grandmother twice over. Guess that makes me a granduncle, right?” He said, chuckling. “I’m gonna see them this Christmas. Dunno who sis is gonna say I am this time. Her nephew? Grandnephew? Who knows?”

  Dylan gave him a small smile. “At least your brother and sister know.”

  “Yeah, I suppose that’s a good thing.” He stood and stretched his arms high over his head, arching his back. Then he bent forward and touched his toes. When he straightened, he twisted his torso from side to side. “Don’t be a stranger to your family, man. Never know when they might be gone.”

  Dylan nodded, looking down at his hands. “I know,” He mumbled, gripping his water bottle tightly. He sighed, letting his head drop. “I’m going to see them next week.”

  Mason looked at him, both eyebrows raised. “Next week? What’s the occasion?”

  “Officially, there’s a wedding happening in my family’s pack, my old pack and my cousin’s wedding, so it’s as good an excuse as any to go home.” Dylan stood and put his hands on his lower back, bending back before twisting from side to side. His back had been sore a lot lately, no doubt something to do with constantly being knocked on his ass in training. His most recent fall was a good example. “And, as you mentioned earlier, I’ve been a little off my game and someone higher up has noticed. Unofficially, they’re forcing me on leave.”

  Mason’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, that bad, huh?”

  Dylan shrugged. He couldn’t blame them. He had refused to go on leave when they asked him to. He had claimed he was fine. And for the most part, he was. But recent developments had him distracted, and he had to agree with his superiors. He needed to get his own emotional shit sorted out. Otherwise, he would be a danger in the field. Not only to himself but to his team.

  “Does anyone else know about this?”

  Dylan shook his head, smiling without humor. “No, it’s not like I’ve been advertising my leave.”

  Mason nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, of course.” He threw an arm over Dylan’s shoulders and leaned in to whisper. “So let’s just keep this between you and me until next week, yeah?”

  Dylan eyed him suspiciously. “And why is that?”

  Mason was grinning. “Because then all the boys will owe me ten bucks each. I’ll split the profit with you.”

  Dylan’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “You were all betting on when I’d be sent on leave.”

  Mason shrugged, still grinning. “Can you blame us? We did the same thing with Jonny after the incident in Cambodia.”

  Dylan rolled his eyes and shrugged out from under Mason’s arm. “Fine, but you owe me.”

  “It’s a pleasure doing business with you!” Mason said, chuckling as Dylan strode away toward the locker room.

  Dylan’s hometown was a small one. They had a small main town, three blocks worth of a downtown, and a strip of fast food restaurants along the one highway that cut through it. It was a town where everyone knew everyone’s names, and half of the town’s population were members of the same werewolf pack. Dylan’s grandparents had been a part of it, as were his parents. His older sister and younger brother were still part of it. Dylan might have been too if he hadn’t joined the Navy.

  Because the town was so small that they didn’t have their own airport. Dylan had to fly into a neighboring city. He stepped out into the sun, squinting against the light and lowering his sunglasses onto his nose. It was late fall, and the air was somewhat chilly, but not quite enough to require a jacket. At least not here. And definitely not with his werewolf blood.

  “Dylan!” He turned at the sound of his name to see his sister waving to him. She leaned against a car in the passenger pick-up lane. Her stomach was wide with a late pregnancy, and one hand rested on her protruding belly.

  He smiled, feeling suddenly relieved to see her and not his parents. They meant well, but they could be a little overbearing. His sister’s friendly face was exactly what he needed on the long trip home.

  “Hey, Cynthia.” He said, leaning in for an awkward hug around her belly.

  She grinned, leaning back and holding him at arms length. She looked him up and down with a critical eye. Finally her hazel eyes, so like his own, returned to his face. “You look well!! Much bigger than the last time I saw you.” She said, squeezing his arms for emphasis. “They sure are feeding you right.”

  “You’re also … bigger, than I remember.” Dylan said with a raised eyebrow and a small smile, nodding downward pointedly.

  She laughed, putting a hand on her stomach. “I was going to tell you, but, well, it’s hard to keep up contact with you when you’re constantly running all over the world.”

  Dylan felt a pang of guilt. True, it was difficult to keep up steady contact when he was away, but it was also mostly his fault. He wasn’t the best at communication. Honestly, he was surprised that he had kept in contact with Blake as frequently as he did. But he had always been lazy when it came to responding to his family, especially during his first few years away. He had wanted to escape his hometown, and he didn’t want reminders of it. So he had ignored a lot of his family’s messages and letters. After several years, the messages and letters had slowed and eventually stopped. They had learned to tell him news when he made the first move in communication. Otherwise, it was a lost cause.

  “Well, I’m here now.” He said, smiling apologetically.

  “Yes, you are! Now put your luggage in the car and let’s get going. Mom will kill us both if we’re late for dinner.”

  Dylan did as he was told and settled into the passenger seat as Cynthia started up the car. She pulled out of the drop off lane and into traffic.

  “So …” He said into the silence. “Who’s the father?”

  “Jared,” Cynthia said, a casual smile playing across her lips.

  Dylan blinked in surprise. He hadn’t been keeping up with his sister in years, but she had been with Jared the last time they spoke. “You two have been dating for …?”

  “Three years. The baby was a surprise. He proposed to me.” She said, idly showing him her ring. “But we decided not to have a wedding until after the baby was born. I wanna actually fit into a beautiful dress and not look like a blimp, you know? Besides, I think the pack can only handle one wedding every six months. You know how they like to go all out at these things.”

  Dylan smiled. “I remember.” Despite being from a small town, his family’s pack was anything but small. With a fluctuating number around two hundred and fifty werewolves, they were fairly sizable. And everyone knew everyone. Most of the families had been in the pack for generations, and it was only the most recent generations who were escaping the small town hole. But there were still those who nev
er managed to escape and were constantly pulled back to the life their parents had.

  But his pack also had a love of festivities. Anything they could celebrate, they did. And they did so with everyone. Birthdays were big events that constantly happened year round, with nearly the whole pack in attendance. But weddings were bigger events, as they happened more rarely. Everyone helped and pitched in, and streets were blocked off for the festivities, it was practically a three-day event leading up to the actual wedding itself. Dylan had attended a few when he was a kid. He was sure there had been more since then, but he hadn’t been there. Even though some of those weddings had been for his childhood friends and he had been invited. This one, however, was for family, and just happened to fit conveniently around the time when his superiors were forcing him to take several weeks of leave.

  “How’s Alex doing?” He asked, staring out his window. They were still in the city and surrounded by buildings, but soon they’d be replaced by trees and fields.

  He saw his sister shrug out of the corner of his eye. “About as well as can be expected. He’s excited and a little overwhelmed, but Aunt Maryam is taking care of most of the wedding details. Which is good since Alex never really had a good head for planning.”

  “Is … everyone coming?” Dylan asked after a moment of silence. He idly picked at a spot of dirt on the window.

  “Everyone? Of course. Most of the town will be there. Both the grooms are local.”

  “Both? Do I know Alex’s fiancé? Mom never told me who it was over the phone.”

  Cynthia cleared her throat and reached for a water bottle she kept in the cup holder, taking a moment to drink and stop whatever coughing fit was about to start. “Yes, you should know him. I’m … surprised mom didn’t tell you.”