Page 2 of Castaway Heat
“Dear gods, Ronin. That boy is yours…isn’t he?”
Ronin closed his eyes, shame burning in his cheeks.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have understood why you were keeping your distance—or found a way to ensure they didn’t bring him.”
“That wouldn’t have been fair to Sage,” Ronin said, barely recognizing his own voice. “Or Shiloh.”
Supposedly Shiloh’s parents had gone through a particularly ugly divorce two Thanksgivings before, so Sage had invited him to join the family feast. And then the Christmas party the following month, too. Shiloh had followed Ronin around like an obsessed little puppy, making it even harder for him to control himself, but he couldn’t allow the need to win.
Not when Shiloh had only been fourteen.
So he’d excused himself. If things weren’t good at home, Shiloh might need nights like those more than he did. He wasn’t going to take that away from his omega, especially when he couldn’t help Shiloh himself.
He stared in the direction they’d disappeared in, heart racing, still fighting the innate urge—and he felt sickened by it. He knew it was only nature taking its course, but it still felt wrong. “I can’t control myself when he’s near. It was safer for us both for me to stay away.” He glanced his father’s way. “I’d called Uncle Bastian a couple of weeks ago and he’d mentioned Sage wasn’t coming tonight. He was going to some friend’s party on the same night. I’d assumed Shiloh wouldn’t be here, either. It’s the only reason I agreed to come.” He drew in a shaky breath. “But there they were when I walked in.”
“Youshould’vetold me,” his father repeated.
“I was ashamed,” Ronin whispered.
“Why?”
“He’s so young. It’s wrong.”
“Taking himwould be wrong,” his father said. “The need itself is hardwired into your system. There’s nothing you cando about that but avoid him until he comes of age.” His father sighed. “He’s what… seventeen?”
“Sixteen, I think.”
“Well, in two more years he’s eighteen and an adult,” his father murmured. “It’s not long to wait.”
Ronin had thought himself an adult at eighteen, but he’d been still very much a child. He wasn’t sure Shiloh would be ready for him even then, though the thought of waiting longer sounded like hell.
“I can run interference now that I know and keep the two of you apart,” his father said, clamping a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going back inside. Calm yourself down and join us now that he’s gone. You might miss more of these in the future, so take advantage of tonight to see everyone you want to see.”
He reached for his keys in his pocket, thinking escape might be better. He nodded, not informing his father of his plan. “Okay.”
His father squeezed his shoulder and smiled. “I know it’s going to be hard, but you’ve found him. That’s good news.”
It sure didn’t feel like it. He agreed with his father anyway, just to get the man to leave. Once his father had climbed the stairs and rejoined the festivities, Ronin walked out of the garage and slipped behind the wheel of his car. As soon as he revved the engine, the thought of finding Shiloh immediately crossing his mind.
Closing his eyes, he fought the urge. After a few seconds, he shut off his car, and once calmer, got out and forced himself inside the house. If he was home, he’d be alone with his racing thoughts which wouldn’t end well in his state of mind. He needed distraction and plenty of it. Where better to find a myriad of distractions than a Drake family Christmas party?
As they traveledhome from the party, Shiloh Anderson turned his face toward the back window and wiped a tear from his cheek, trying to hide his sorrow from Sage.
“Are you okay?” Sage asked him, voice barely above a whisper.
“Uh-huh,” Shiloh lied, forcing a smile when he spun his face to eye Sage. He knew he was silly to have a crush on an alpha like Ronin, but he couldn’t help himself.
He’d never understood the expression of butterflies flying in someone’s stomach until he’d met Ronin. After Thanksgiving two years before, he’d filled up a leftover notebook writing the names Shiloh Drake, Mr. Shiloh Drake, and Ronin and Shiloh Drake, all of them with little hearts over the i’s. He’d daydreamed of a life where he and Ronin were mates and loved one another. He’d have Ronin’s babies and they’d be so happy.
He almost cringed at how silly he’d been back then.
His seventeenth birthday was drawing near, and he’d thought himself so much more mature than the first time they’d met. Maybe enough for Ronin to really notice him but clearly he was still that stupid little kid in the alpha’s eyes. He wished he’d never come.
The Drakes had continued to invite him to Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations every year since that first. Shiloh appreciated their generosity, but in all honesty, he’d only continued coming in hopes of seeing Ronin—though being anywhere was better than either of his parents’ unfestive apartments, listening to them complain about the other while eating a bucket of fast-food chicken or microwaved pizza. His papahadfinally broken down and gotten a mini tree for themthat year, but it was clear none of them felt like celebrating much, even two years after the destruction of their family.
The second year Shiloh had been invited, Ronin hadn’t come to either event—and he’d skipped Thanksgiving the next. When he’d overheard that Ronin was going to the family Christmas party, he’d convinced Sage to skip their other plans and let him tag along so he could spend a few hours seeing the man of his dreams. All night, he’d attempted to talk to Ronin, but the alpha had slipped away each and every time he’d gotten close.
When he’d finally had his chance to wish Ronin a nice holiday, he’d seen nothing but disgust in the man’s eyes. It had shattered any silly illusions he’d had and made him sick to his stomach.
