Unwilling: a shifter romance

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Unwilling: a shifter romance Page 15

by Hannah L. Corrie


  He knew only one other place well enough to hide in, with enough people around to keep those gun slinging lunatics from having a shootout: the campus of BCU.

  The wolf was wary, but it didn't need to be. If it couldn't trust his human brother, it was lost anyway.

  With a burst of speed, they crossed the last meadow, ran across the sports field and jumped through a gap in the bleachers, nearly crashed into a group of girls standing next to the bike racks in front of the dorms, and haphazardly slid into the small impasse behind the building.

  The cramped space was filled with giant wheeled dumpsters. It was a perfect place to squeeze into and get his bearings, though the stink was horrible.

  He heard the agitated shouts of the girls over his labored panting and the human side translated their jumbled voices as well as possible. Something about a wild dog, coyote, calling animal control and his size. They quieted down soon enough, laughing softly and turning their attention back to their own topics. It made Darwin's human side envy them. Would there ever be a moment where he didn't have to fear for his life? Be able to stand in the darkness, talk to his friends, and think nothing of predators running by?

  It took a few minutes to calm his breath. With the increasing calm came the discomfort. His muscles twinged from the unusual strain, the stink of garbage made his stomach queasy and ruined his sense of smell, and the surroundings made the wolf almost hysteric with nerves, but he didn't budge. The hunters most likely were too close by now.

  The girls' screams pierced the night again, accompanied by the sounds of running feet and a wolf-like snarl. Squeezing his furred frame deeper between the dumpsters, he watched two men with rifles and a wolf run into the dead end street he hid in, but only the wolf actually passed him. The men just stood at the entry, watching and blocking his only way out.

  This wasn't what Darwin had hoped for, not at all.

  This was his impending death.

  The hunting wolf sniffed through every gap and crevice. The air in the concrete backyard was so saturated with rotting garbage, it felt warm and moist. With the unbearable stink and the scents left by the multitude of rodents, cats, dogs, raccoons and foxes frequenting the place, the wolf was probably just as nose-blind as Darwin. Not that it helped. After all, they had him boxed in and it was only a matter of time before the searching wolf would come back to his hiding place and simply use his eyes to find him.

  Once again, the wolf and the human clicked into each other like gear wheels. They would die here, but they wouldn't go down without a struggle. Those people were not their pack, they were enemies, and no amount of submissiveness would make them into anything else. Darwin's human mind agreed with the decision, though his intellect still argued that submissive wolves were not supposed to resist anyone. It amused the wolf to no end. If one's life was in danger and flight was out of the question, struggling was the natural thing to do, no matter who you were.

  Both of them froze when the sniffing approached. The shape of the searching wolf filled the entrance of the gap they were in.

  The strange wolf snarled and froze too.

  Darwin pounced.

  Garbage cans rattled and clanked as the two furred shapes went at each other's throats, growling and barking. Darwin didn't need to think anymore, his whole being was filled with clicking fangs, scratching claws, the flavor of fur and blood in his mouth and the distinct scent of wolf in his nose. Both of them were screaming like banshees, a mixture of pain, aggression, and nervous yips, intensified by the echoing walls of the dorms and the tinny feedback of the dumpsters.

  They rolled out onto the concrete path like a furry, angry wad, splattering blood everywhere as they bit and shook each other.

  The two men ran toward him, accompanied by the clicks of the loaded guns, but they didn't shoot— yet. Either they didn't want to risk shooting their mate, or they were afraid of attracting more attention, but for now they just stood there and observed over the barrels of their rifles.

  The cuts, rips and bite wounds only started to hurt when both wolves let go of each other to catch their breaths.

  It also was the moment one of the men chose to pull the trigger.

  The bang of the rifle echoed through the impasse like thunder, but this time there was no whistle, only a sharp twinge in Darwin's chest. It felt like an invisible fist hitting him at full speed, made him stumble backwards and sit down with shock.

  He heard the screams of a girl only when the ringing in his ears stopped, but before he could make out anything else, all hell broke lose.

  Suddenly the backyard was saturated with people, all of them fighting.

  The intense stench of pain, anger receded beneath the force of something much more comforting: Jared's personal scent. The Alpha threw himself on the wolf that had attacked Darwin and twisted its neck. Behind him, two more shapes were struggling against the armed men, but the fight didn't end as quickly. Another shot rang through the night air and the bullet bit into the wall high above their heads, then the five shapes somehow rolled out of the backyard and in front of the dorms.

  Confused and filled with pain, Darwin limped into the deepest corner of the impasse, keeping an eye on the entrance as his blood dropped steadily onto the concrete.

  A figure ran into the backstreet, turned and stumbled backwards, whimpering with fear as he - or she? - kept an eye on the exit, only looking down when their foot bumped against the lifeless body of the other wolf. Whoever it was, they hadn't seen Darwin and kept coming closer and closer, carrying with them the stink of panic and hysteria and the sounds of a frightened, fragile female.

  One of Darwin's paws lost its grip in the puddle of blood he was sitting in, and the small sound of claws on concrete made Darla turn around and cry out with shock.

  Darwin was hurt, bleeding heavily, frightened to death and alone, with nothing left but his will to survive. He growled, bristling at the threat his wolf assumed in the frightened figure.

  Darla turned and ran screaming. Her scream was cut short as the injured wolf jumped and bit her shoulder, riding her struggling body down. Just before they hit the ground, Darla hammered her elbow into Darwin's furred head, shaking him off and throwing him against the dumpsters where he landed in a heap of fur and agony.

  He twitched one last time and whined pitifully, then everything went black.

  Exodus

  Jared

  It was shocking how close they had been to the pack hunters the whole time. They sprinted along the front of Statsby Hall with Jared taking the lead this time, turned one corner Jared hadn't known existed, and all but ran into the three werewolves. The shot had given the impression of distance, but it had been an illusion, a trick for the ears.

  Darwin, still in wolf shape, crouched near the end of the impasse. He was hurt, bleeding, losing the fight. The two human-shaped werewolves were pointing their rifles at him and the lone wolf-shaped werewolf stood in front of them, but it was all a blur. He should have gone for the two men with rifles, but his rage overruled his mind.

  That wolf had attacked his mate. For that, it was going to die first.

  He heard Rayne and Harry grapple with the gunmen behind him, fists hitting bodies, the metal clank of the trigger mechanism being pulled and the groan of wood and steel being pulled in two directions at once, but he didn't care. He grabbed for the wolf's head as it tried to turn around to snap at him and twisted.

  There was a sharp, dull, cracking sound, and for a few seconds the furry body continued to twitch and shiver, radiating heat and confusion. Then the warm body stilled in his hands and he let it go. Deep satisfaction flooded his system, rewarding him for having his revenge, and a roar itched through his throat, wanting to be let out.

  Jared's moment of victory was cut short when another shot rang out. The bullet bit into the wall above them, showering him with plaster crumbs. Ah yes, victory wasn't his yet.

  Baring his teeth, he swung around and joined the fight for the rifles. Rayne unarmed one of the men, p
roceeding to beat him into a handy pulp, but Harry was having problems. His adversary wouldn't give his gun up that easily, mainly because he managed to cower Harry with a growl that would have sent other submissives for the hills.

  Not Harry. He held on to the gun for dear life, turning his head to the side in an awkward angle to avoid the still quite human set of teeth threatening to clamp down on his throat.

  Jared barreled into both of them instead of joining the skirmish for the gun. The three crashed into one of the garbage containers, whirled around and fell, rolling out onto the concrete path and into the group of girls standing in front of Statsby Hall.

  "Call the police!" one of the girls screamed at the other two as they staggered away. Jared knew that voice, but he didn't have time to look up and confirm it was Darla. The last wolf still wouldn't give up his gun and he proved to be quite capable protecting himself. Somehow he managed to roll them around, land on Jared's chest and expel Harry from the scuffle like an annoying insect, proceeding to beat Jared with both fists.

  He hadn't taken into consideration what Jared would do without a submissive in the way. Jared tried not to listen to the panicked screams of Darla, Harry's fearful calls, or the sickening crunch of breaking bones from Rayne's direction, and he tried to hold on to his consciousness as his attacker split his lip, broke his cheek bone and even managed to knock out a tooth. He focused on his hand instead, felt for the burning pain of moving bones and the itching of growing fur, and then shoved his partially turned hand into the chest of the last pack hunter. It felt like punching through a brick wall, but he probably could have done that too. The startling pain made the wolf above him freeze with shock. When Jared started to dig into his chest to grab and squeeze his heart, he could do nothing else but twitch and gasp for air.

  Jared pushed down the innate need to keep his hand in there and watch that man die as he ground his heart to mush. Time was of the essence.

  Another scream from Darla made him yank out his hand and push the dying man to the side. The wound in his chest started healing a bit, but Jared was sure enough that he would stay dead. Jumping up, he tumbled into the impasse and stared down at a twitching female body and the bleeding wolf right next to her.

  Rayne came to a halt at the feet of Darla's unconscious form, Harry pressed his hands against the bleeding bullet wound in Darwin's chest. Darla's shoulder was bloody and in tatters.

  Shit.

  "He bit her... He bit her!" Harry repeated over and over. Rayne crouched down to pull the cloth from Darla's bloody shoulder, then glanced up to Jared and just nodded. They both were pretty pale.

  Sirens were howling in the background, slowly closing in on them. The other two girls had probably called the police by now.

  Their time was running out fast. Jared turned around and barked, "pick them up and run to the car park, we gotta leave!" This time, he didn't try to keep an eye on Rayne. The situation had changed once more.

  Rayne picked up Darla and Harry threw Darwin's sleek furred body over his shoulder. Blood dribbled everywhere, the metallic scent thick in the air, mixed with the stink of rotting food and the innate smell of autumn night.

  Teeth flashing, Jared took one last look around. It had been too good to be true from the beginning, anyways.

  Darwin

  He didn't come to out of his own volition. A wave of pain woke him, making him gasp for air and whine helplessly. It was hard to make out his surroundings, but the vibrations and shaking meant they were moving, most likely by car. The warm, tender softness beneath his head smelled like Jared and as soon as he made another pained sound, a hand touched his head and stroked his hair soothingly. He was lying on Jared's lap, but his legs were tangled with someone else's arms, and the space they were in felt cramped.

  Opening one eye, Darwin stared at the faux leather covering of a car seat, complete with a person sitting in it. The car was small, tinier than anything he had ever seen, and the engine chugged away like a tractor. The windows were dark but the darkness had a blackish-blue quality, like it was beginning its retreat from the sun. The inside of the car was warm, but Darwin still felt feverishly cold and weak. A glimpse down his body showed nothing but a jacket draped over him. He was naked, buck naked, and being cradled by two men: Jared at his head, Harry at his thighs.

  Somewhere from behind a female sounding voice joined him, groaning in agony. A few thuds followed, sounding like someone having a seizure, then the sounds stopped. Nobody paid attention to it.

  Licking his lips, Darwin weighed his options. He was tired and hurt to his bones and incredibly glad for the peace of the moment, but not knowing what was going on gnawed at him. He coughed, which hurt like hell, swallowed more carefully, and murmured, "who's driving?"

  A sudden stillness at his legs proved that Harry hadn't noticed him waking up. The hand on his head kept stroking him. Of course Jared knew. Jared always knew what was going on with him. Darwin felt his eyes staring a hole into his temple.

  "Rayne," he answered, his voice soothing and calm, like the purr of a sleepy cat.

  Darwin recognized the name. "The rogue Carl adopted in? That Rayne?" he asked, not giving a shit how thick with distrust his voice sounded.

  "Yes, that Rayne." The strange voice sounded like caramel, or toffee, thick and sticky and resounding. It reminded Darwin of phone sex ads, but this voice had a more natural modulation. Hereditary, not a thespian act. He didn't like how much he liked that voice and snarled quietly.

  "He's on our side now." This from Harry, earnest as ever, so trusting.

  Jared's hand never stopped petting him. "I have to agree. He saved us and you in the process. He even got scratched for his troubles."

  Rayne snickered at that comment. It felt like an inside joke between those three and jealousy grabbed a hold of Darwin. He turned his head, swallowed another bitchy comment, and breathed in Jared's scent, letting the incredible warmth of his lap pull him back into sleep.

  Another rumbling from the trunk jerked him awake before he could doze off. "What's that sound?" he asked warily.

  Silence ensued for a moment, only to be broken by the muffled tumult from behind.

  Darwin sighed and tugged at Jared's pants leg. "There's somebody locked in the trunk, isn't there?" he asked, keeping his eyes closed. Not that it would help against the truth, but it felt like an appropriate way to brace for the obvious answer.

  It took a few seconds for someone to man up and it was Jared again. Of course it was Jared.

  "Yes, there is."

  Darwin opened one eye to peek up at his face. In the dark he looked pale and old, as if the sunshine had been sucked out of his soul by the last few hours. "Do I have to pull every detail out of your nose, or will you please tell me what's happened?"

  He did. He started with him, Rayne, and Harry breaking out of the pack house and he only paused for a moment when he told Darwin who was in the trunk, and why.

  "Darla's got the fever from your bite, so she's unconscious. My car isn't big enough for all of us and if we are stopped by the police, having her sit in the front seat all bloody and near death would be kinda bad. So we stuffed her in the trunk." Jared made it sound so simple, so practical. They couldn't risk leaving her behind, their only means of transportation was a small, antique VW Beetle, and they had been in a hurry, so into the trunk with her.

  Darwin let the silence sit there for a few moments, trying to breathe around the tight knot in his gut. He didn't remember being bitten himself, but after years and years of pain and suffering, hearing he had put someone else in the same spot was hard. Darla hadn't done anything to him, she had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. He felt horrible. Horrible and dirty, stained.

  Worse than that was the silence. Nobody said anything, no encouraging words, no reassurances, no consolations. Darwin understood. There was nothing to feel better about, he had ruined Darla's life, and no amount of words or pleading would ever change that. If you bit someone, the responsibility of deali
ng with it fell to the delinquent. It didn't matter if he meant to or if he didn't, wolves didn't care about intentions, only actions. Through his actions, he had made her one of them, and now it fell to him to make sure she didn't do something stupid. If she survived, of course.

  Just when Darwin started to feel pressured to say something, anything to break the silence, Jared leaned forward and pointed at the dirty veneer of a lone gas station at the side of the highway.

  "Pull over here, we have to get them cleaned and patched up before sunrise. And we have to plan what do to next."

  The Beetle rumbled over the broken concrete parking lot and rolled to a halt right next to the bathroom doors. An old pickup truck sat to one side, but nobody else was around. Rayne got out and went to check if the bathroom doors were unlocked, which they weren't, then trotted around the grimy building and disappeared into the shop up front.

  He came back soon enough, carrying a bundle of packages, soda cans and snacks in one hand, and the key to both bathrooms in the other.

  Piling his load onto the front passenger seat, he sorted through it and held out a few items for Jared to grab. It was a bunch of clothes, but the overhead light hurt Darwin's eyes too much to take a closer look. He rolled around and buried his face in Jared's lap. When Jared started to twitch and gasp and tense up, Darwin realized how close to his crotch he had positioned his face and sat up with a flustered gasp. "Sorry!" he squeaked, cut short by another wave of unpleasant aches in his shoulder.

  Jared didn't seem to mind. In fact he grinned and held out a tin can, just like the ones usually containing paint or glue. Only this one didn't hold any liquids, judging by the label picturing a set of nice, firm buttocks barely covered by hot pants with violet and green leopard dots.

 

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