Right.
“You seem to have taken that part of this whole business in your stride.”
It took Dellan a moment to realize Doc was talking to him. He blinked. “Sorry. I must’ve zoned out for a second. You mean, discovering I had two mates?” He chuckled. “After everything I’ve been through, suddenly finding out that some higher power or other had decreed I should have two soul mates is somehow easier to swallow.”
“Interesting choice of words.” Doc’s eyes twinkled. “Soul mates.”
Dellan couldn’t think of another word that was more apt. “I’ve known them for less than a day.” He gestured to his body. “In this form, at any rate. But it feels like I’ve known them for much longer.” It seemed like every few minutes, one or both of them would connect with him: a light touch of their hand on his, a gentle caress of his cheek, or the soft stroking of his hair. It served as a constant reminder of two things—he was indeed human again, and there were two men who clearly cared for him. Dellan wondered if all mates felt this… connection, this overpowering need to be close to one another.
He peered at Doc. “Was it like that when you met your mate?”
Doc stilled. “Ah. Then you don’t know that part.” When Dellan gazed at him, perplexed, Doc sighed. “The fact that someone has… decreed, as you put it, that you should have two mates isn’t what intrigues us. It’s the fact that you have mates at all, when finding one is as rare as hen’s teeth.”
Dellan laughed. “I’ve never understood that saying.”
“It’s simple, really. Hens don’t possess teeth. So something as rare as that would be rare to the point of nonexistence.” Doc gave him an intense look. “Does that adequately convey why the three of you finding one another is so special?”
Holy fuck, it truly did.
Dellan reached for his mug of coffee and wrapped his hands around it. “It’s peaceful here. I like that.” This time of quiet seemed exactly what he needed.
The doc chuckled. “It’s only peaceful now because the boys have gone to the store. Once they return, it’ll be back to business as usual.” He met Dellan’s gaze. “I knew your parents, by the way.”
Dellan stilled. “Really?”
Doc nodded. “Before they got married. We were all in our early twenties.”
Dellan was aware of the ache in his chest. “What was my dad like?” When Doc regarded him quizzically, Dellan shrugged. “I can barely remember him, beyond flashes of playing with a ball in our yard, him helping me to fly my kite. I was seven when he disappeared.”
Doc stared at his hands clasped in his lap. “Your father was remarkable, even at that age. A highly intelligent young man with a great capacity for empathy and tolerance. He adored your mother and apparently had done so since they were both fifteen.” He smiled. “But Lord, he was fast when he shifted. A streak of fur, racing across the prairie. Mind you, your mother had no trouble keeping up with him.”
Dellan laughed. “The prairie? Where were you?”
“The three of us vacationed in Kansas one summer. Well, I tagged along at your parents’ insistence, trying hard not to feel like the proverbial third wheel. The spot they chose was perfect for them. I think I was there mainly as a lookout, to keep an eye out for anyone who happened on them.”
“You didn’t shift with them?”
Doc coughed. “That would have been inadvisable. Two tigers in the tall grasses could avoid detection. Me? As Crank is fond of saying, ‘Hell, no.’”
Dellan had to ask. “If it’s not a rude question… what are you?”
Doc regarded him without blinking. “An elephant.”
He had to admit that, based on what he knew of the doc so far, an elephant was perfect. “I’ve always thought of elephants as wise gentle giants.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Doc tilted his head to one side. “Your mother had no idea what happened to him?”
“None whatsoever. She said he went away on a business trip and never came back. The last time she heard from him was in a phone call from whichever hotel he was staying at. But she didn’t give up hope. She hired private detectives once the police had explored all possible avenues and come up empty. Nothing. It was like he’d vanished from the face of the earth.”
“And then she died at too early an age.”
Dellan closed his eyes. The memory of her death was too raw, considering the lapse of time. Then he reasoned that she’d died in December, and Anson had initiated his plan the following month. Dellan hadn’t had sufficient time to grieve before he was locked into his tiger form.
“Hey.” Horvan’s voice was soft.
Dellan opened his eyes to find both his mates close by. Rael took hold of Dellan’s hand, and Horvan sat on the arm of the couch, his hand on Dellan’s shoulder.
“I don’t need to say a word, do I?” Dellan opened up his mind to them, letting them in. He leaned into Horvan, aware of his strength, his scent.
“We’ve got you,” Horvan said quietly, pulling Dellan to him while Rael joined him on the couch, the pair of them the sturdiest, most reliable brackets Dellan had ever encountered. Little by little, he got his emotions under control, but still they held on to him until he was breathing normally again.
“I share your grief,” Doc said softly. “They were dear friends, and I’m sorry we lost touch.”
Dellan held out a hand to him. “I’m glad I got to meet you. Thank you for coming all this way on nothing more than a phone call.”
Doc smiled as they shook. “When Horvan said you were his mate, I knew I had to meet you. But please remember. If you ever need my help, just ask.” He paused. “I mean that, Dellan. I think your father would want that.”
“Thank you.” Tears pricked Dellan’s eyes. He felt like he’d been adopted.
Rael lifted his chin, his head inclined toward the window. “The guys are back.”
Dellan cleared his throat. “Then I’m going to paste on a smile. I don’t want them thinking I’m a basket case.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
Horvan gave him a hard stare. “You’re hardly that. And no one expects you to be firing on all eight, not after the year you’ve had.”
Dellan gave a sad grin. “I know that’s something to do with cars, but no idea what. I have a mechanic for that.”
The door burst open, and the three men spilled into the room, weighed down by boxes of groceries. Roadkill’s gaze went straight to Dellan.
“I’ve had an idea,” he blurted out.
Crank laughed. “Can it wait until we’ve unpacked the groceries?” He sniffed the air. “Something smells good. When’s dinner?” Hashtag shook his head and followed Crank into the kitchen area.
“You unpack—I’m talking to Dellan.” Roadkill placed his box on the countertop, then came over to the couch where they were gathered. He perched on the coffee table, his fingers laced, elbows on his knees. “I’ve been thinking about the drug they gave you.”
It had been on Dellan’s mind too. “Did you come to any conclusions?”