Unwilling: a shifter romance

by Hannah L. Corrie

  It didn't matter now. He didn't cry as he followed the dirt road back. He had no tears left for something as small as a lost fling. It still hurt like hell though, and the anguish constricted his chest and made breathing harder. How had he run that far like this?

  His best friend, betraying him like that! The idea just wouldn't fit into Darwin's view of the world. Harry would never ever... Or would he? What if their places were reversed, would Darwin snatch away Jared? He would, which meant that it was entirely possible that Harry had fallen for Jared and wouldn't try to resist his come-ons. They probably were on their way on their date already. And afterward they would fuck. If Darwin were in Harry's place, he would. Fuck, that is. Who wouldn't want to fuck a prime specimen like Jared?

  Staring down at the dirt beneath his trudging feet, he shook his head. He had wondered all week why Harry got skittish and nervous every time they met Jared, but he had been too preoccupied with his own problems to ask. He should have asked when he had had the chance. It would still have hurt, but he would have gotten over it sooner. Now it was Friday, hours before the pack meeting, and his heart was broken at the worst possible moment.

  He contemplated the possibility of surrendering to the 'loving care' he would surely receive at the hand of his Alpha later that night, just because it was a good way to stop the heartbreak, but he shook off that thought. No one was worth dying for- or over-, his adoptive father George being the sole exception.

  When he reached the city limits, he decided to skip going back to BCU and headed for his father's house instead. He didn't want to risk meeting Jared or Harry again, or heaven help, both of them at once.

  George was surprised to see him, but even though Darwin looked horrible, neither George nor Mary commented on it or asked questions.

  For once, Darwin was relieved to be alone. His room still had all his things, a change of clothes included, but instead of getting changed and going down to face his family, he dropped face down on his bed and closed his eyes. Sleep came easily and mercifully dreamless.

  Mary woke him up. Darwin crawled out of bed feeling more exhausted than before, but an icy shower fixed that. He threw on a black, soft turtleneck shirt made from knit wool that obscured his slender, athletic upper body and light-brown corduroy pants with ripped hems that went perfectly with his black sneakers. He went with a side parting for his hair because it made him look defying and restive. Carl hated that look on him.

  Darwin didn't actually want to provoke his Alpha— the things Carl did to him were horrible enough on their own— but if Darwin tried to avoid behavior his Alpha disliked, he would sense weakness and act upon it.

  In the last year, the numbers of submissives in their territory had dwindled alarmingly, but even with people disappearing left and right, nobody knew why. Some of them died in accidents, others abruptly decided to move away, and some were never seen again. Darwin had his suspicions as to what had happened to the vanished ones, based on his own experiences, because all of them had been male. It was a pattern nobody but Darwin seemed to recognize. On the other hand, who else besides him knew what Carl did in his cellar?

  Darwin gave himself a once-over in the mirror and nodded. His outfit was nice, something he would have worn to a first date in a restaurant. Classy, but not too high-strung. His guts clenched at the thought of for whom he had chosen this look and again fought down tears. It was such a waste dressing up just to get torn to pieces.

  "Hurry up, munchkin! We're gonna be late!" Mary's voice came from the anteroom, then the front door clicked. Mary would have to stow away George into the car first, so Darwin had another minute to get his things and follow them outside.

  He went back to his room and stared at his wallet and his mobile phone, pondering. Every item he took with him ran a risk of being lost in the process and replacing them was a hassle he could have done without, this time around. Unfortunately, he would need it to be able to call— and pay— a cab once Carl was done, optimistically assuming he survived the night. Sighing, he grabbed both items, stuffed them into his back pockets, and stalked outside.

  The pack house thrummed with people and chatter. As predicted, everybody was pretty upset about the attack on Giselle. There were lots of suggestions as to who could have done it, why, and what would happen next or what should be done about it, but Darwin didn't pay too much attention. Sipping his water, he feigned disinterest, staring blankly at the table in front of him. Carl sat across the table from him, but he didn't acknowledge Darwin. Only those speaking got their Alpha's attention, and since Darwin would have rather died than speak up, he was spared. For now.

  Sudden movement around him startled Darwin back into his head. Chairs scraped over hardwood floor, chatter erupted, and on the other side of the table, George talked to Carl. Darwin watched them out of the corner of his eye as he got up, trying not to flinch at the expression of happiness on his father's face. It was the perfect moment to slip out of the pack headquarters and run like hell. His father would be disappointed if he didn't say goodbye, but damn, fatherly disappointment was easier to handle than Carl. He almost made it through the door when Carl's voice boomed through the room, drowning out the chatter.

  "Darwin! A word please."

  The exit was there, right in front of him. Every instinct screamed for Darwin to make a dash for it, to escape while he still could.

  He clenched his fists, squashed his instincts down stubbornly, and turned around to walk back. On his way, he crossed paths with his father, who was still smiling and nodded a quick goodbye. So damn happy with his son catching the attention of the Alpha.

  The door closed behind the last person. For a moment, deep silence spread through the room.

  "How's school?"

  Darwin flinched at the sound of Carl's voice, but kept his eyes fixed on the broad chest in front of him. Carl was like his father used to be before his stroke. Mid-fifties and in peak condition, even though he had a little pot-belly to show off, tanned to the extreme, hair starting to grey at the temples. He looked like a well-worn boot, leathery and ready to kick ass.

  "Good, sir," Darwin answered through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to shiver and shy away from the stifling force of his Alpha’s presence. It went against everything the submissive side of him demanded.

  Carl sniffed dismissively, then his hand shot forward to slap Darwin. The smacking sound resonated through the roomy hall. Carl kept staring at Darwin's face intently and Darwin still didn't move or make a sound. His cheek throbbed with the force of the impact and his heart all but leapt out of his chest, but this was nothing. A small inconvenience.

  "Oh yes. You're good, I'll give you that. But don't you believe for a second that I don't see through your little charade," Carl snarled angrily when he didn't get the reaction he had hoped for. Again his hand shot forward and this time Darwin did flinch, but only a little. Instead of slapping him again, Carl grabbed his neck and turned around, pulling Darwin with him like dead weight. "Do you really think I'm that stupid? Everyone of us learns their place when they hit puberty, and you're way beyond that," he growled, marching Darwin through a hallway and then down a flight of stairs, right into the cellar. They passed a ping-pong table, a pool table, and a group of exercise machines, heading towards an apparently seamless wall. Darwin knew better.

  Carl stopped him with a cruel tug at his neck, using his other hand to push the camouflaged button at the top of the wall.

  There was a click, then a whirr, and then the wall in front of them swung open. To Darwin's knowledge, no other pack member had found the secret passage to what he called 'Carl's negotiation room' yet. Darwin had smelled the blood of others there once or twice, but he hadn't asked who they had been or what Carl had done to them.

  He also knew better than to try and break free. It was a moot effort at this point and would only make things worse for him.

  Carl shoved him inside, then followed, pushing the door closed. There was a strange glimmer in the Alpha's eyes, an express
ion that Darwin called 'Carl's Hyde-side'. The clever, diplomatic Alpha had fled the metaphoric building, leaving a batshit-crazy lunatic in control, and he was heading for Darwin.

  "Tell me the truth." Carl's voice dropped to a dark, angry growl and his gaze burned Darwin's scalp.

  Darwin knew the game though. "I'm a dominant, sir. It can't be helped. I didn't choose to be born this way," he said, measuring the exasperation and the light lilt of anger in his voice artfully. His instincts demanded he grovel at Carl's feet, beg for mercy, show his throat to quench his Alpha's rage, but to listen to his instincts meant he would disappear, just like the other submissive boys.

  He could feel Carl lean closer. "We'll see about that, won't we?"

  By a thread

  Jared

  Harry seemed in no mood to wake up as Darwin disappeared into the sunny outside. Jared dearly wanted to run after him, but he couldn't just drop Harry and hope he didn't shift while he was gone. What was he supposed to do with an unconscious werewolf in the middle of a hallway full of people, though?

  Most of the students ignored the hunk and the lifeless student in his arms, but a few stopped to stare. Jared's hackles rose with a strange sort of protectiveness. Seeing those humans gape at one of his kind like hungry vultures irked him for whatever reason, so Jared tightened his grip around the smaller body and got up. It would upset Harry even more to wake up in Jared's room, but when he caught some of the girls whispering about calling 911, he relented and started walking towards Statsby Hall. An upset werewolf was hard to hide, but a werewolf in the hands of modern medicine was a much bigger danger than Harry’s potentially ruffled feathers or a few nips and scratches and angered neighbors.

  The odd glances and glimpses he got on the way to his room with Harry in his arms soon spurred him into a brisk pace, bristling at everyone crossing his path. When he reached the door of his single bed dorm room, he sighed in relief.

  It was a peculiar thing to be taking care of someone he didn't know. Jared didn't like meddling in other people's business and he disliked being dragged into other people's misery even more. Had this been any other person than Harry, Jared would have left them somewhere safe and run, but Harry was different. Jared very dearly wanted to get into Darwin's pants and Harry was Darwin's friend. By default, helping him would get him on Darwin's good side, right? But that was all, no further meddling planned. None at all, no sir. A nagging doubt settled in his chest. Nothing more, damn it! With a huff, he shook himself (and Harry, too) and trotted into his sparse living quarters.

  Jared despised his room. He had been living there for weeks, but the walls were still barren, the desk was clean, the floor tidy and uncluttered. The whole place was sterile and Jared didn't care enough to change it. Why not show how little he had left? After all, his meager belongings had neatly fit into a few cardboard boxes. His room was empty because he had nothing to put into it, and the one picture he had of his family stayed tucked away in his wallet instead of hanging on the wall. Maybe he was being paranoid, but it felt wrong to show total strangers what his old family looked like.

  Jared stared down at Harry's unconscious form. He would have to do a lot of groveling and begging if he ever wanted to be able to have a new family. Darwin had looked murderous and that didn't bode well for future romance. If Jared wanted Darwin, he'd have to do right by Harry and fix their friendship. Life could be so complicated sometimes!

  Still, he couldn't do anything until Harry woke up from his peculiar blackout, so he grabbed his books and sat down at his desk. Might as well do some studying while he waited, he supposed.

  Darwin

  Breathe. Remember to breathe.

  Carl hummed a monotonous melody as he tied Darwin's arms together, fingers touching elbows. He coaxed Darwin down to his knees by a hard punch into the stomach that made him gag violently, just a taste of what was to come. Carl was in no hurry though. As soon as he had Darwin where he wanted him, he left the room to let him simmer in his fear and pain. Minutes ticked by and morphed into eternities. When Carl came back, still humming that damn melody, Darwin had to restrain himself not to yell at him to stop, just stop and get on with it.

  Although this was a part of Carl's usual routine, something wasn’t right about the expression on Carl's face, that faint twitch in his cheeks. As panicked as Darwin was, there was a chance he was seeing things, but his skin still tingled with renewed foreboding.

  "Why do you do this to me, Darwin? Didn't I help take care of your family? Didn't I pay the medical bills for your father? Your college tuition?" Carl sounded agitated, as if fighting the urge to shout or lash out again. At least talking forced him to stop that hellish humming. He kept walking around though, not bothering to hide his emotional state.

  Again, Darwin couldn't shake the feeling that something was different this night, even though Carl used the same words as always, like a trustworthy swiss clock. Next Darwin would say, "I don't understand. What did I do?" and then Carl would experience a controlled burst of anger, slap him a bit, or maybe punch him and break his nose. And once there was blood, Carl would shake off his fit of rage, manhandle him out the door and tell him not to show his face for another week.

  Darwin heard himself pray the usual mantra, felt the words leaving his lips, and cowered down, waiting for the blows.

  They never came. Carl huffed, then chortled. The sudden change made Darwin's blood run cold.

  The Alpha crossed the room without sparing him so much as a second glance. He was more intent on sifting through a whole rack of torture devices, some of them looking as if he had gotten them right out of another century. "Wanna come clean before I begin?" Carl asked smugly and picked up a slim black riding crop.

  Darwin's heart jumped. Carl had never once strayed from his usual routine. If anything, the torturous evenings had notably shortened once Darwin had learned the expected reactions. There had been a lot more punches in the beginning, sometimes enough to have him bedridden for a day or two. But now, Darwin had no idea what Carl wanted to hear. He knew well that his Alpha was beyond odd. Carl was batshit-crazy. It made answering questions like these unbelievably hard. If he gave the impression he doubted Carl's intellect, he would be punished more severely. If he told the truth about himself he would be killed. If he didn't answer he'd probably be whipped until he answered anyway.

  "I don't know what you want from me. I already told you everything." He tried to keep his voice from shivering with fear, even though a little fear was undoubtedly appropriate for the situation. Darwin's shoulders creaked in protest when he inadvertently struggled against the bindings.

  The riding crop sizzled through the air right next to his head, making him jump. "Don't you play stupid now, boy," Carl snarled and started circling him. "I watched you! Your packmates are watching you every day! Did you really think you could hide this secret forever?"

  Darwin's heart skipped a beat. He'd had to keep so many secrets in the last years and each and every one of them would cost him dearly if exposed. But which one was Carl referring to and how had he found out?

  "Whatever I've done, I'm sorry! But I really don't know what you are talking about," he begged, and this time his voice shook with panic. Why pretend any longer than necessary?

  Carl didn't react to the confusion in Darwin's voice. He didn't hear anything Darwin said. His face was a contorted mask of anger and something close to paranoid triumph. The riding crop groaned under Carl's tightening grip. "I don't like being lied to, boy. Maybe I can beat the rebelliousness out of you with this; shall we try?"

  This time, he didn't wait for Darwin's answer. Carl pulled back, paused for a second as if confused, and then began to strike him with vicious whistling blows. Every single whack rained down on Darwin's body with full-out force and although his clothes prevented breaking of the skin initially, welts formed wherever the slim, elastic rod met his body.

  The pain was instant and gut-wrenching. Every lash set his body on fire, sending shocks of fear and burning
agony through his veins. The worst part of the beating wasn't the moment when the riding crop hit, but the intensifying sting that followed, and it got worse and worse with every new strike. Darwin was screaming within seconds, coiling up in a weak attempt to flee from his tormentor, only to be stopped by a casual kick to his side.

  It felt like hours before the blows ceased, even though it had been only moments. His whole body ached with the burning, stinging sensation of the welts and his face was wet with tears. Darwin gulped in air greedily, despite the fact that his throat was raw from all the screaming.

  Carl walked slow circles around him, wiping off the riding crop with a white rag. "When were you going to tell me about that new werewolf?" he asked, perfectly calm all of a sudden. He didn't even have the courtesy of being out of breath after having beaten the shit out of him.

  Darwin's thoughts crawled and stumbled through the fog of pain. Before he could stop himself, he responded incredulously, "Who? Jared?"

  Then it hit him.

  Jared. Another Alpha.

  He had been friendly— intimate— with another Alpha and hadn't told Carl about Jared's presence. Not reporting another Alpha trespassing into their district was something a trustworthy dominant would never do, special circumstances be damned. Not doing anything was one thing, but not saying anything was a whole different story that could only be explained one way: Darwin must have switched sides, betrayed his pack, and was most likely planning mutiny. The old man might be crazy, but this time he actually had a very good reason to kill Darwin.

  Carl grinned widely when Darwin's face all color. "Ah, now you suddenly know, eh?" The old man's voice dripped with hatred and fierce joy.