Star-Crossed Mates Read Online Free Page A

him, or bothered to. They didn’t even try to understand the reasons behind his quiet nature. The only time his parents showed some involvement in his life was a few weeks back, when Clay returned with his tail between his legs from the Magistrate’s Den and found Ross there. At the time, they didn’t believe him when he’d claimed both Klaus and Ross were his mates.
    They’d become convinced he merely wanted the same thing his two brothers managed to achieve. Of course he did. Trent and Ash were always the ones in the spotlight, the brave hunters, while Clay remained the little, harmless kid. But his desire for Klaus and Ross didn’t have anything to with that.
    He could still remember his father’s words, his kindness which unwillingly hurt Clay so much. “You’re young still,” Grant had said.
    “You don’t need to make any hasty decisions.”
    In the end, only Amy trusted his instinct. She’d also been the one to help bust Ross out. She didn’t want to, but she’d helped him in the end. It hadn’t been easy, with the key to Ross’s cell taken by Ash. But Clay was very talented at picking locks, a hobby he’d taken up out of Star-Crossed Mates
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    boredom, and perhaps spite, and Amy could distract guards better than any siren.
    Clay now doubted he’d done the right thing. At least at the Hart compound, Ross would have received adequate medical attention. In spite of Clay’s private hatred of the Magistrate, he admitted Wolfram also offered humane treatment to his prisoners. But something in Ross scared him, and the memory of the feral who’d killed himself niggled at his brain. Ross had just heard about it, whispered murmurs of the horrifying event, but he didn’t want to see it recreated in his mate.
    If only Klaus would help them. Should Klaus agree to bite Ross, everything would be all right. Clay hated to ask after what happened between them last time, and he might have refrained had Ross’s condition not grown progressively worse.
    As if in echo of Clay’s thoughts, Ross said, “I’m hot. Can we go outside?”
    His voice sounded weak, yet growly. Clay swallowed around the knot in his throat and stole a look at his watch. Klaus should have been here by now. What could have kept him? Easy. He must have decided not to bother with Clay’s requests. After all, he’d dodged each and every call from Clay a few weeks before.
    “Sure,” he replied. “We need some fresh air.”
    He waved the waitress to their table and paid the bill. The woman thanked him in a thick, Irish brogue, and Clay offered her a smile in turn. He took Ross’s sweaty hand and led him out.
    The soft, gentle breeze caressed his face as they left the stuffy pub. It didn’t seem to help Ross. “It’s just as hot here,” the young man said. “Damn it. I hate this awful place.”
    Kiltimagh was hardly an awful place. In fact, the tiny Irish town boasted a lot of beautiful historical attractions. Unfortunately, its small size meant they couldn’t stay here too long, or the hunters would track Ross’s scent.
    “Let’s go to our room,” Clay offered. He’d try to bite Ross again and hope for the best.

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    Scarlet Hyacinth
    Ross nodded but didn’t move. His eyes burned with the incipient touch of the feral madness, but for a second, they were as beautiful and clear as ever. “Hey, I never thanked you for taking me out of there. I think I’d have been dead by now if you hadn’t.”
    The words startled Clay. Ross spoke little, and when he did, he only referred to practical considerations, like “let’s take cover,”
    “when do we eat,” and so on and so forth. “Don’t say such things,” he told Ross. “You don’t ever need to thank me.”
    Ross laughed a little. “I don’t understand you. After everything I said and did, you still want to help me. Why?”
    It was a good question that didn’t have a simple answer. Everyone in the spirit wolf world always replied “you’re my mate.” But to Clay, it had