Mate Massacres

Chapter 82

Krey tilted his head.

Francis held two paint recommendations in front of him for the corridors. One colour was a piercing green, and the other... "Looks like puke," Krey grumbled. "Do you think I want puke green on my walls?"

"Um... what about for communal toilets?" Francis suggested.

"No offence Francis but you've got awful taste," Sid said with a daft grin.

"I take every offence to that." Francis nudged him when he tried to squeeze past her to look at more colours. Sid's arm casts were off, and he was healing well, but he wasn't allowed to shift to his wolf until the weekend.

"I'm surprised you're looking at anything other than black and grey," Sid said smiling politely at his Alpha.

Krey crossed arms over his strong chest. The long sleeves of his black top hugged the curves of his muscles. "They're my walls, but I'm not the only one who lives here." Krey mulled over a few colours until he gave up. "We'll paint the walls white and have art in black frames along the corridors. I want the floors a dark wood. No carpets, you got that?"

Francis and Sid shared a quick glance before nodding.

"I want more furniture ordered for my bedroom, and a new bathroom door. Order some plants too, I don't care which ones. Order Pip a good pair of running shoes. He's a size seven. Order him proper running clothes and a new winter coat." Krey's face was emotionless. He had wanted to take Pip to Crescent Town to shop, but despite the town being their territory, Krey didn't want to risk being away from the Packhouse where they were safe.

Francis scrambled to type Krey's orders on her phone. "Is there a preference on furniture?"

"Just get wooden ones. Pip wants to paint them." He narrowed his eyes when Francis smiled wide. "And order a new couch. A black one."

"Should I let Pip pick what trainers he wants?" Francis asked, sweating at the thought of getting any of the orders wrong. She unzipped her purple denim jacket.

"If you want." Krey turned his back to her and looked through the catalogue for dining tables. By the time he had organised the entire building, Krey's head was fried, though he had a knack for designing things and them turning out to look pretty good, so the wolves trusted his judgement.

He later found his mate in the bedroom, hunched over one of his father's books, wrapped tightly in his black duvet. Occasionally, Pip stared out of the window like he was processing information.

"Anything interesting in there?" he asked.

Pip jumped and dropped the book. "Krey!" he squeaked. "You scared me."

Krey sat with him on the floor, lifting the book to see that Pip had been reading about werewolf myths. "Interesting. Are there any stupid ones?" Krey read about the moon making them shift. "Hm, as if we'd allow that to control us."

Pip laughed and unravelled himself from the duvet to feel Krey's warmth instead. He climbed onto him and sat in between Krey's crossed legs, resting his back to Krey's chest. Pip looked up and Krey softly kissed his head, then kissed down his nose, only just reaching his top lip. Pip let the feeling of his lips tickle his skin.

Being with Krey set the world right, even if everything was falling apart around them. "Do you think these myths have truth?" he asked, feeling Krey's hands on his thighs. His heat seeped through his jeans.

"Depends which myths you're talking about."

"There's ones about humans who are mated with werewolves. Some theories are that humans get more spiritual strengths."