Howl At The Moon: MM Shifter Romance

by Primrose, Ella

  “Cassius—”

  “Stay away from me. It hurts and…I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Cass—”

  “Get away from me!” Cassius hissed, looking at him now, a wild, haunted gleam in his eyes. “It’s happening.”

  Adrian stopped, nodded, and sank back onto the bed, rapt at the sudden change which began to take place before his eyes. Cassius began to transform before he could even blink, hands contorting first, stretching and growing into hideous twisted claws. His spine shifted beneath his skin. Every bone seemed to be moving as he collapsed to the floor, jaw wide open in a wordless, soundless scream. Adrian stared, terror finally settling over him, the realization hitting at last.

  This is it, this is real, this is what it means…

  “Cass…?” Adrian whispered, voice cracking as the beast turned to face him. Both of them panting, both with wide, wild looks in their eyes. “Cass, can you hear me?”

  The wolf stared at him, pink tongue hanging from his open, drooling mouth. Then, in a bolt of motion, it leapt onto the bed, knocking Adrian backward as it pinned his shoulders down with its massive paws.

  “C-Cass!” Adrian gasped, trembling beneath him, too frightened to even struggle or move. The wolf let out a low, commanding bark before licking the side of Adrian’s face. He relaxed a little, though he was still terrified as the wolf’s rough tongue scraped along his cheek. “I’m not afraid,” he said, as though it were a mantra, as if repeating it would make it so. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of this, I’m not afraid of anything.”

  The wolf snorted, as if he was laughing right in Adrian’s ear, and then, before the man could react, the creature sank his teeth into Adrian’s shoulder.

  All Adrian could do was groan in agony before the pain became too much and the moonlit room slowly faded into darkness.

  * * *

  Oddly enough, Sam and Carson hadn’t heard a peep from the other side of the wall. It made it easier, at last, to slip off to sleep.

  As he drifted off, Sam imagined Drew was there beside him. It took a while for Sam to fall back to asleep, but when he did his dreams were presented in full technicolor. And they weren't dreams, per se. The visions called to the forefront of his mind was of a memory, and as he dreamed, his heart raced and his body twisted and writhed in his sheets.

  It was a small miracle he didn't wake Carson.

  Chapter 24

  Dream

  Sam let out a soft chuckle under his breath, shaking his head as he looked from Drew back to the road. It was a late afternoon, still sunny and beautiful and warm and for whatever reason the sky took on a peaceful, romantic sort of haze. At least that was how it felt for Sam.

  Drew was off in his own world, navigating the traffic as he relentlessly serenaded his passenger, punctuating the dramatic lyrics with emphatic hand gestures to express the inner turmoil of the song. To drive it all home, he’d occasionally point to Sam directly and then shake his fist.

  It finally became too much for Sam to stifle and he let out a sharp laugh, looking right at Drew with an expression of amusement and wonder. After months of dancing around the growing connection between them, was this what it all came down to? A brief moment spent listening to Drew pour his heart out to a New Wave ballad while Sam sat giggling in the passenger seat? Was this all that would come from months of stolen glances, looks of longing, veiled caresses under the guise of typical camaraderie? Well, Sam figured, if this was all he’d get, then he’d still die a happy man. After all, who else could claim they’d had Drew serenade them like this? He had this moment. No matter what, he’d always have that.

  Drew meanwhile seemed content with Sam’s reaction, grinning triumphantly when he saw Sam’s shy smile evolve into raucous laughter. He wasn’t even sure what had come over himself either. He’d just been struck by the sudden urge to make Sam smile, he’d do anything to make him smile. Sam had the most perfect smile. It was like the sun rose in his eyes the way they lit up. It was like his whole being was filled with amber and he was just waiting, aching, dying for someone to see into him.

  Drew had to be the one to see into him. He had to be that man.

  As the ballad ended, the next song started. Drew launched right in without missing a beat. Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

  “More? Really?”

  Drew scowled at him, lacking the malice he usually attached to that expression. “What’s wrong with it? This song is a classic.”

  “There's nothing inherently wrong with it, it's just I never would have pegged you as a fan,” Sam grinned, curiously leaning forward to fiddle with the radio. “Is this a CD?”

  “Yes, it is and don’t you dare change it. I happen to like this song.” Drew said, a smirk curving across his lips as he reached to swat Sam’s hand away, eyes back on the road. He half expected Sam would jerk his hand away in time, but he was surprised when he didn’t move at all. He just let Drew slap playfully at his hand, then caught hold of it in his and didn’t let go, instead threading their fingers together, boldly, definitively.

  Drew’s breath caught in his throat and he felt his stomach lurching. He stole a glance at Sam who was staring down at their newly joined hands. It wasn’t like holding a woman’s hand, nothing like that at all. Sam’s hands weren’t small or delicate. They were rough, calloused, with slender fingers and cuticles which had been bitten down out of nervousness or boredom or habit or all of the above. They weren’t pretty or pristine or manicured. They were the hands of a boy. No, the hands of a man.

  Sometimes Drew fooled himself, thinking of Sam that way, thinking that because he was smaller he was somehow less of a man, like it would somehow justify or excuse what he felt for this man. But Sam was most certainly a man. He just happened to be a very beautiful man. And Drew just happened to be in love with him.

  Sam studied their hands together too, stealing a glance at Drew’s expression, to make sure what he’d done was alright. He hadn’t intended to make the first move like that, but the tension was too much for him to take any longer. Maybe he’d get shot down, maybe it was a mistake. He sincerely doubted it, though. There was no denying the spark between them, the way it felt like things were about to ignite every time they looked at each other. So, he brushed Drew’s knuckles against his lips, staring at him with lowered eyes, mumbling along with the music.

  “Oh really?” Drew laughed at that, though it only served to encourage Sam further.

  Sam smiled, kissing Drew’s hand again as he shifted in the passenger’s seat to shimmy along to the music. “You better believe it. I don’t go around singing to just anyone.”

  “Hey, neither do I.” Drew protested, pulling his hand away then. Sam froze immediately, looking hurt. But it was only temporary, as Drew took the opportunity to reach over and stroke Sam’s cheek. “I only do stuff like this with people I really like.”

  Sam couldn’t help but grin again, gnawing absently on his lower lip as Drew’s thumb dragged across his cheekbone. “You like me. It must really break you up having to admit that.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Drew said, somehow managing to look both amused and put out at the same time. He hadn’t been prepared to make any such admissions, but he couldn’t very well backtrack. All he could do was flip it around at Sam and hope to cling to some of his dignity. “And what about you? Don’t play coy with me. You’re wild about me. Admit it.”

  “I’m wild about you?” Sam trilled with laughter, feeling emboldened by how the entire situation was unfolding. Leave it to Drew to turn the tables on him. “Oh, please! Which one of us started this romantic little sing along, hm? It sure wasn’t me.”

  Drew scoffed, dropping his hand so he could take a sharp turn. “I was singing along to a classic ballad. It’s not my fault you take lyrics literally.”

  He did have a point. Sam might have frowned if not for the fact that he knew he wasn’t wrong. He could still see the smile and warmth in Drew’s eyes and he could still feel the heat from where his fin
gers had traced along his cheek.

  “My mistake,” Sam said, easing back into his seat. “It was a hell of a performance though. I could have sworn you meant every word.” He closed his eyes, a slight smile on his lips. “Next block is mine.”

  Drew grunted, slowing the car a little as he reached over to take Sam’s hand in his. Sam kept his eyes shut as Drew lightly kissed the back of his hand just as they pulled up in front of his parents’ house. It was the first time Drew had kissed him. Smiling to himself, he prayed it wouldn't be the last.

  Chapter 25

  Breakfast with Carson

  Ian woke up before his alarm went off. This was fairly typical for him, even when he wasn’t stuck sharing a room with someone else. That night he’d been assigned to room with John, which made for an interesting experience.

  They’d had opportunities to visit in the past, but they’d never been especially close, so Ian found himself surprised at how pleasant the evening had been. The outside perspective was great, and it was likewise refreshing to talk to an older, more experienced player. He liked the young guys, hell, he was close to admitting to himself that he was basically infatuated by Carson, but one could also learn a lot from guys who didn't play on the same teams, too.

  Still, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to having breakfast with Carson. He’d used the extra time ahead of his alarm to shower and fuss with his hair a little, preening until he was satisfied with his appearance, only using a slightly excessive amount of hair product. If only he could wear something a bit little more stylish than the team training jacket, then he’d look perfect. For a moment, it was as if Ian had completely forgotten he was only sharing a breakfast table with Carson, and not taking him out on a date.

  John, unaware of the situation at hand, gave him a brotherly laugh as he watched Ian play with his hair in the mirror by the door. “Think you’ve got enough gel there bud?”

  Ian scoffed and shook his head as he left the room. He could hear John still laughing as he walked down the hall toward the elevator bank. He had a breakfast to attend and he was going to look his absolute best for it.

  * * *

  Carson arrived in the dining room with Sam trailing just a half-step behind. Although he hadn’t wanted to invite him (and was actually tempted to just tell Ian that Sam wasn’t interested in joining their table) Carson was too nice and too honest not to extend the invitation to his roommate. Sam had accepted with a slow nod, and he’d taken his time getting ready. For once in his life, Carson was the one left waiting around, wanting to go. He’d at last had a taste of how other people felt around him.

  They hadn’t really talked in the elevator going down. Or rather, Carson had tried to make small talk, but Sam was engrossed in his text messages or some sort of phone game and paid him little mind. He’d finally pocketed the damn thing once the elevator doors opened to let them out, shooting Carson a questioning look. “Sorry, were you talking to me?”

  Carson wanted to scream. Instead he managed to look only mildly exasperated. “You were the only one in the elevator, Sam. Jeez. You’re gonna give me a complex. I swear, no one ever listens to anything I have to say!”

  “What were you saying?” Sam asked, compulsively reaching into his pocket to touch his phone.

  “I don’t even want to tell you now. You’ve ruined it.” Carson said, pouting dramatically. His whole demeanor changed the very moment he spotted Ian. Gone was the frown, replaced quickly by a big, toothy smile. He grabbed Sam by the wrist and tugged him toward Ian’s table, wide open. “Hey, Ian!”

  Ian looked up at the pair, nodding at Sam before his attention fell to Carson. He couldn’t help it. He had to smile back. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” Sam said, cocking his head with a perplexed little curve to his lips. “I like your hair, Ian. Did you do something to it?”

  Ian tried not to turn red as he reached up to touch his hair. It was hard and spiky. Like a porcupine. Of course, Sam would like it. “No. Not really. No.”

  Carson laughed, reaching over to touch Ian’s hair with a wide palm while dropping into the seat beside him. “Ian, your hair! You look like a hedgehog!” He clapped his hands delightedly. “No, wait! You look like Drew! Ha!”

  And just as soon as he said it, he regretted it. All those feelings of jealousy returned to him in a wave and he was suddenly aware of who they were to have breakfast with. His eyes narrowed slightly and he eyed Sam from the corner of his eyes. Sam seemed amused by the situation, but it was often hard to tell with him. He wasn’t an open book the same way Carson was. Ian on the other hand…Carson was scowling at Ian now, noticing that Ian was most certainly blushing.

  “I do not.” Ian sputtered in protest, as if it was the most offensive thing Carson could have said.

  “No, he doesn’t.” Sam said flatly as he took the seat across from Ian. “He’s nothing like Drew."

  “I just used a little too much, that’s all. It’s not a big deal. Besides, I’ll need to shower again anyways, so…” Ian glanced around the room, arms folded childishly. For once he was glad that his team was full of unprofessional slackers because aside from Perry and Matt, the entire dining hall was empty except for their table. It meant this embarrassing chapter of his life could soon be quickly forgotten.

  However, he was a little concerned by Carson’s sudden mood swing, though. He’d seemed so cheerful a moment ago and now he was huffing like a spoiled child who didn’t get the treat he wanted for his birthday. This brief moment might be a warning to Ian not to involve himself with someone so young. After all, the last thing he wanted was to date a moody little brat. He already had to deal with Simon as his best friend and teammate twice over. He didn’t need his life further derailed by adding another young guy to his already insane life.

  For his part, Sam too noted Carson’s shift in demeanor, changing the subject. “So. The game. Any insight you feel like imparting to us, Ian? It’s not the championship game, but it’s not going to be a cake walk.”

  Ian tore his gaze from Carson. His expression clearly read thanks, and Sam’s lips twitched slightly in unspoken acknowledgement. “I have some ideas, sure. You know, it’s all about momentum. We build it up now and we’ll be unstoppable for next week.”

  Ian was about to launch into a full-on analysis of his own strategic views as the rest of the team trickled into the dining room, some chattering and laughing, some bitching and moaning, others remaining in exhausted silence.

  Carson sighed pressing his chin into his fists. What a mistake this whole breakfast thing was. Now he was never going to get a few minutes alone with Ian to bask in his presence and beg for his undivided attention. It was all so unfair. He huffed a little and decided to tune Ian and Sam out. Eyes narrowed, he stood up, almost knocking his chair over backwards in the process. It was by divine intervention that he didn’t cause more of a scene. Of course, they were too engrossed in this thrilling conversation to pay him any mind. “I’m going to get some food.”

  Sam gave Carson a thin smile. Ian turned to look at him, expression somewhere between hurt and hopeful as he nodded. “We’ll still be here.”

  Carson pouted as soon as Ian’s back was turned and he headed straight for the buffet line. He couldn’t believe how badly this was all going, and on a game day too. He should be focusing on his playing, on performing well. There was no room for heartache in football! And yet, here he was, pining away for stupid Ian, jealous out of his mind over Sam (of all people!) and rudely holding up the buffet line as he stared forlornly at a tray of toast.

  “Ahem.” Garry cleared his throat loudly, poking his shoulder from behind. “Earth to Carson. Just grab a slice of toast and move on. Hurry up, man. My omelet is getting cold.”

  He didn’t even have it in him to give Garry his attempt at a clever come back. Instead he just tossed a few slices onto his plate with a deflated sigh and shuffled away. Garry was still mad at him, clearly, so what was the point in sticking around? He did
n’t return to Ian’s table, though. Instead, he cast his eyes around the room for an open spot, any open spot, and settled for the empty seat across from Simon, next to Fabian Harris. He said nothing as he sat down, either oblivious to Simon’s wide -eyed protests or simply opting not to respond.

  “Excuse you, Carson, but who said you could sit here? No one invited you here. Now scram.” Simon tilted his head, imploring Carson to grow a brain and leave, as he was obviously discussing something important and personal with Fabian.

  Carson’s reply came not in words. He instead shoved an overly large chunk of buttered toast into his mouth and began to chew.

  Fabian gave Simon an incredulous look. Simon was immediately shamed into silence. “Si, don’t be so mean.” He then turned his warm smile to Carson. “Don’t listen to him, Carson. He’s just in a bad mood. Probably something to do with a girl.” Fabian laughed. Simon fumed. Carson ate his toast.

  “Don’t you want to go sit with Ian?” Simon tapped his finger on the table impatiently.

  Carson choked on his toast. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Was he that obvious? Did everyone know he had the hots for Ian? If Simon knew, then everyone else had to know, too! He swallowed hard, bread sticking to his throat as he tried to play it all off casually. “What? No! Why would I want to—I mean, what makes you say that?”

  “You two are friends, aren’t you?” Fabian said, who was delicately smearing a dollop of jam on his toast.

  “Oh, they’re friends alright,” Simon interjected, pouring some hot sauce on his eggs. He snorted, glancing up at Fabian with a smirk. “You’ve seen the way Carson pounces on him. He’s like a kitten and Ian’s a ball of yarn.”

  Fabian giggled (yes, giggled) and raised his eyebrows at Simon. Something unspoken was communicated there in that instant. “Carson isn’t the only one doing the pouncing. Ian pounces too. We’ve all seen it.”