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At first, his infatuation with Graham had been all about the 'hero' thing. Who wouldn't be attracted to a good looking man who'd risked life and limb to save your life? It was impossible not to stare at him dreamily from time to time and feel compelled to be around him constantly. It had been so easy to tag along after the wolf, especially since the hunters had killed his father and brother. They'd been living in Miami together, couldn't have even been considered a pack and that's what had made them so vulnerable to the attack. The hunters had taken Darby, kept him alive for a few experiments which hadn't really been painful. The most horrible thing about the experience was how amiable they had been. It wasn't a personal vendetta--it was a job to them. They were his kind wardens, keeping him comfortable until his inevitable execution. It was terrifying.

Graham was so very good at keeping things hidden. Frequently, Darby had no idea what was going on inside of his head, but he was getting better at deciphering his seemingly stoic moods. The only reason he could sense what was going on now was because he knew that the man's pack was in the Seattle area and hunters going that direction couldn't possibly be a good feeling for him. He always tried to imagine what being a part of a large pack would be like. He was not good at showing submission or understanding the inherent pecking order. His instincts were strange. His family had been more egalitarian than normal because it was just the three of them and not much need for rank existed. Frequently, that caused him problems with Graham and he'd stumbled into many an exhilarating situation when he'd overstepped his bounds in the dominance department.

"This rain is going to kill me, you know. It's like a Silent Hill game out there, bleak. Effing bleak. I need sun." He didn't usually make a habit out of whining, but he was painfully sensitive to the weather having grown up in Miami.