Fangs for the Memories

by Julia Talbot

The wolf panted, a soft whine on the air. He could see the skinny legs shake.

  “Please.” He moved back, drawing a corresponding move from the wolf every time. Yes. Yes. That’s it. No one wants to hurt you. No one.

  Please.

  “That’s right. Please.”

  They were making progress back to the cabin, and he couldn’t help the joy bubbling up in him.

  He wouldn’t trap the wolf. He was a man of his word. A wolf of his word? A word of his wolf?

  The wolf chuffed with laughter.

  “I’m a giant dork. I really am.” He was. There was no way around it. “I started the fire. I can put some blankets down to rest on.”

  Two more steps, then another. He sent a mental image of the fireplace, not really willing to think about this communication too much.

  No cages?

  None. No one here likes cages. He let himself open wide, let the other wolf in. No cages.

  No cages. There was faith in that thought. Hope.

  Never. He meant it too. They had never had to cage Carter, and they wouldn’t do it to the wolf either. When he made it to the deck, the wolf was only six feet behind him.

  “The fire will feel so good. Let me get water and some blankets.” He left the door open, the sound of claws on the wood amazing.

  Chills ran down his spine, because he’d expected this to take longer. Oh, they weren’t bosom buddies yet, but Tom was so pleased, so proud.

  He could hear how the wolf was using up his bravery, his strength, his energy just to try this. Just to breathe and keep moving. So he grabbed a pile of blankets Jami had left him and arranged them by the fire before hunting a bowl to fill with water. The dry air here had to be making the poor wolf so thirsty.

  The wolf stood between him and the door, eyes curious, gaze sharp.

  “Here. Water. That will make the whole world seem better.”

  The slurping was furious, desperate, and he wanted to pet, to comfort. Grooming. They needed grooming.

  The urge to shift was a near unbearable itch.

  Still… now might not be the time. The wolf was trusting him as a human. He wavered, not sure what to do.

  The wolf lifted his head, muzzle dripping. God, those eyes. Golden, wary, but so soulful. He nodded, smiling, then gave in. He stripped off his coat and sweater before skinning out of his jeans. He would let his own wolf come to the fore.

  The wolf watched him, chest moving like a bellows.

  He closed his eyes, letting his human self go. Letting the animal spirit rise in him. It always burned, letting the wolf come, but come it did.

  Lord knew he hoped all of him had changed. Nothing freaked out other shifters as much as an ear that didn’t go….

  You’re all there. The little wolf kept his head down, refusing eye contact now.

  Thank you. I have trouble. He moved a little closer.

  It’s hard, to be new.

  It is. He dared to push in and rub his muzzle against the other’s, praying he wouldn’t get bitten for his trouble.

  The wolf whimpered, and a wave of loneliness crashed over him, almost bringing him to his knees.

  Shhh. I know. This is a good place, though. It is. He needed to touch.

  They sniffed and gently moved around each other, close, brushing together but not quite leaning yet. It took time, even as well as they were getting on.

  “Tom? I brought you fresh towels?” Jami’s knock had his new friend bolting, scrambling for the back door.

  Shit. He couldn’t even open the door as he was. He barked, letting Jami know it was okay to come in, then slammed out the back, following his new friend.

  The speed the wolf moved was impressive, the dark streak sliding through the trees.

  Wait! He didn’t want to chase too much and chance invading the wolf’s den.

  He thought the wolf’s steps faltered, slowed.

  He’s gone now. I’ll tell them not to come. Come back.

  Fear and worry slid through the air, but bigger than that was need. The desperate longing for pack.

  Come. Tom led the way, slowly trotting back to the cabin. Come home. Come home.

  Come home. The wolf stopped, the howl on the air cutting through the snow.

  Oh, no. What? What is it? Had he screwed up?

  Carter’s scream split the air, the sound familiar, if not terribly welcome.

  He bounded over to the wolf, then turned his back, waiting for Carter. This was just one giant clusterfuck.

  Carter bounded up to him, bouncing and dancing with worry and a hint of frustration.

  He barked, then looked over his shoulder pointedly. He was pleased his wolf hadn’t fled.

  Carter looked over, scenting the air, and then he chuffed. Jami was going to get his butt bitten.

  Tom might have to bite it too, later.

  With a swish of his tail, Carter turned and scrambled back to the main house.

  See? No one wants to hurt.

  So much confusion. So much need.

  Can we try again? Come inside.

  He wandered closer, vocalizing softly. The wolf came to him now Carter was gone, rubbing cheeks with him. Oh. Oh, better. Happiness rang inside him, a heat in the pit of his belly.

  Licking and rumbling, he wagged, his tail moving fast. Which created more cold air. Okay, in.

  They walked together, side by side, shoulders rubbing.

  Like pack. No alpha or beta. Not here. Just two lonely wolves migrating to a den together.

  Nathan.

  The name settled in the pit of his brain.

  Tom. He managed not to dance. He knew it! The human was in there.

  Tom. Nathan’s muzzle dipped in greeting.

  The door was still open, and he led Nathan inside. He shook, snow flying off his fur.

  Nathan did the same, and then Tom herded him toward the blankets, the fire. They needed to lie down. To rest and groom each other. That was how he would learn Nathan’s scents and spots.

  They needed to be still together too. Nathan needed to rest. Sleep.

  Nathan panted hard but settled in the blankets, flopping down with a thud.

  Tom circled a few times, then lay down next to his—to Nathan. He wanted to call Nathan his wolf. This hearing the other wolf’s thoughts was going to his head. What if it was just how Nathan communicated? What if Nathan had just been not human in so long?

  Nathan’s head landed with a plop next to his paw.

  Moving his snout, he licked Nathan’s ear, just lightly loving on it. Grooming didn’t have to be vigorous.

  Nathan lapped his paw, cleaning his claws gently.

  He closed his eyes happily, his tail thumping.

  Nathan leaned, just the slightest bit, cuddling and sharing heat.

  That had Tom leaning back, realizing how tired Nathan was. They would have a nice long nap. That was the most important thing.

  Rest. Tomorrow there will be milk. Bacon.

  Bacon. The word was reverent, making him chuff.

  Yes. Bacon.

  Nathan touched his nose to Tom’s paw, and then the sweet wolf was unconscious, sound asleep.

  He listened to Nathan’s dreams for just a little while, but they all involved cold and hunger, so he took a few deep breaths, easing his mind. In minutes he was drifting off too, happier than he’d been, even in the last few months.

  Chapter Four

  WARM. Warm.

  He looked about, the green grass soft under him, a huge timber wolf staring at him with a wag in his tail.

  He was smaller, so he bowed, muzzle on the big beast’s paws.

  Welcome.

  The voice vibrated inside him.

  Thank you. He felt… safe, if not happy. He checked his tail, his ears, his balls. All there. All intact. Good.

  All there. The soft laughter made him wag.

  I worried. I was lost. I had to run—they trapped me.

  Oh, love. I’m so sorry. The big wolf nuzzled him.

  He inhaled deeply, n
ose in the wolf’s ruff. Oh. Oh, I know you in my soul. My dearest one.

  Yes. Oh yes. That big head bobbed, the sweetest touches coming to his muzzle and cheeks.

  How this could be he didn’t know, but joy rose in his heart, his whole body feeling energized. He knew this wolf deep down even though they had never met before, and he felt an answering happiness coming from the other.

  He danced, bouncing with a pure, undeniable joy.

  Tom. The one he knew was Tom. Tom barked, the sound ringing around him.

  His head went down, his butt went up, and he shook his tail.

  They romped, Tom almost bowling him over with his first rush. He rolled over and over, his paws kicking at Tom’s soft belly.

  Tom nipped his tail, then ran, streaking away, making him chase.

  He followed, his claws digging into the ground to gain speed. Oh, that fuzzy butt was the best target.

  He leaped, landing hard on the ground as he missed. He shook his head, the grass gone, the snow and ice digging into his fur.

  No. No, we’re safe.

  Safe? Tom? Where were they?

  We’re together. You’re dreaming with me, Nathan. Don’t be afraid.

  Oh. He whimpered, searching immediately for the bright light that was his Tom.

  I’m right here. Tom bounded into view, snow flying.

  Oh. That was better. He’d been so lonely. So achingly lonely.

  No, I’m here. I want to be with you. In fact, I am with you where we’re sleeping.

  Dreaming. Dreaming. But reality wasn’t bad?

  Yes. You’re sleeping. It’s warm and there are blankets.

  Do you know me?

  I do now. I feel as if I’ve known you forever.

  The dream was getting distant, fuzzy about the edges. The world beyond the dream was warm, comfortable. He didn’t need to escape that, so he would go back to it.

  He felt wave after wave of support, of pleasure, of approval.

  So Nathan stretched, the warmth on both sides of him delicious. One was the fire, the other was Tom. He watched, panting softly as he admired.

  Tom rolled, paws against Nathan’s side as he yawned. Oh, lovely strong teeth, fine whiskers.

  This one would be pack. He didn’t dare think anything else….

  Pack. Yes. Tom nuzzled him, then began to groom him—ears and muzzle, whiskers and jaw.

  Oh. His tongue lolled out. It had been so long. He’d been empty and alone, aching. This…. Tom’s presence was like light in the dark.

  Tom chuffed softly, the sound surrounding him. His ears swiveled as he took in every noise. He loved Tom’s little laugh.

  Tom put one paw on his neck, holding him still as Tom cleaned his ears.

  He kicked, his legs moving hard, because his ears itched so bad. How did Tom know?

  Be still, now. You need this.

  He did. Please. He did. The touches soothed more than the itch in his ears.

  I hear you. You’re safe.

  Safe. He couldn’t remember being safe. Nathan wanted to believe, but he wasn’t sure he could. So he just wallowed in the care.

  Every inch of him was explored, his matted fur smoothed and cleaned. He felt protected. Loved. He’d never felt that way, ever. That he knew.

  Shh. Worry later. Tom seemed convinced that he needed to rest.

  Worry later. He put his muzzle down and sighed.

  This was more important than worry. Nathan knew it, deep down. This was his life, what life was supposed to be. Wasn’t it?

  Tom nipped his ear, making him yelp.

  Grooming.

  He’d never had grooming to focus on.

  Had he?

  No. Surely not.

  The world before the cold was distant, fuzzy. This was bright and warm and wonderful. And Tom. He had no words for Tom.

  Tom nudged him over, moving to clean his belly fur. He grunted, his paws flailing a bit. That felt—nothing had ever felt like that, no matter what he could recall.

  Worry. Worry. Worry. Tom’s voice tickled throughout him, teasing.

  What? Was he worrying? He thought he was enjoying.

  Breathe, Nathan. Breathe with me.

  He buried his nose in his paws, comforting himself.

  Tom leaned on him, and he felt each inhale and exhale, ribs moving. He could breathe with that, follow each sensation.

  In fact, he liked to listen to Tom’s breath and feel his heartbeat.

  It was like being home. Home. He searched for that memory, but it skittered away, bringing him back to Tom.

  Shhh. You’re safe here with us. Safe.

  He chuffed softly, his world so warm and close. Safe.

  My wolf. Tom said it as if it was just… true.

  It worked for him. He was tired of being empty and alone, and Tom’s scent was just fine.

  He rolled a little, putting his back to Tom’s belly, where the warmed fur lay. He stretched his legs all the way to his toes, spreading them.

  His back popped and cracked, the stretch making room in his spine.

  Tom chuffed out a little laugh, then licked his ear gently.

  His ear twitched, jerking back and forth. That was so funny, how his body responded to touch. No one ever touched him—

  He let his ear still, waiting for another touch.

  So Tom nibbled. He wiggled, the touch tickly.

  Tom’s touch moved down, heading toward his neck, toward the heavy scars that ringed his throat, and Nathan tensed.

  Stopping, Tom panted gently. Okay?

  Broken. It was broken there. Ugly.

  Broken? There was a frown in Tom’s word, and Tom sniffed at his neck, nose in his fur. The thick, ropy scars ringed his throat, 360 degrees. He was ashamed of them, and he associated them with… fearlonelinesspain.

  Oh, sweet. I’m sorry you’ve been hurt.

  Chained.

  Tom growled so low. The sound raised his hackles a little, but not because he felt threatened. He thought Tom would be fierce protecting his pack.

  Yes. Tom touched his nose to the scars. Yes. I would protect you.

  Me? I’m new.

  I don’t have a pack, really. We could be pack.

  He bobbed his head, because the words sounded so good, so right. Nathan wanted that with a sharp, deep longing that left him breathless.

  He could hunt. He could bring food and be useful.

  Do you remember being a man? Like I was when you first saw me?

  Not a man. He was a wolf. His back curled, his ears flattening.

  You saw I can be both. So can you.

  Not. A. Man.

  Tom raised his head, staring at him. He could feel it, but he didn’t roll over so he could look back. Not a man. He was a wolf.

  I’m sorry. Do you dislike men? Tom sounded sad.

  He whimpered softly and curled into himself. Oh, had he offended? Already? Did he have to go?

  Shh. Shh. I just like to spend time as a man, and I don’t want to scare you. That long muzzle landed on his shoulder.

  He ducked his head, soaking up the care and the heat while he had it. These things were fleeting.

  Sleep now, sweet. Rest. It will all be better when the sun comes up.

  He hoped it stayed night forever.

  TOM watched Nathan sleep.

  This was… wow. Those scars were intense, and the fear was very real when Nathan said he was a wolf, not a man.

  Thing was, he had to be a man to get them food and water and stoke the fire. He could tell Nathan loved the fire, and even though the sun was bright out there, it was far from warm.

  Not only that, but Tanner was going to have to check in on them soon.

  He slid free of the blankets by the fire and rose, then moved away so he could shift.

  Nathan was small compared to him, fur dark with promises of sleek lines. Tom thought he was perfect. So perfect.

  He sighed, shivering until he pulled on a robe. Okay. Food. Water. Fire. Call Tanner. Then maybe he would take N
athan to romp in the snow.

  First, though, he’d promised bacon. He grabbed the phone and dialed the office.

  “Good morning! This is Ed, how can I help you?”

  “Hi, Ed.” Did he know Ed? He didn’t think so. “This is Tom in cabin three. I just wanted to check in with Tanner.”

  “Of course. Two shakes. Boss!”

  He heard some shuffling and moving; then Tanner was on the line.

  “Hey! How’s it going?” Tanner asked.

  “Nathan. His name is Nathan. Someone kept him chained.”

  “Chained.” Now there was a low growl in Tanner’s voice. “What do you need?”

  “Bacon. I promised him bacon. A brush?”

  “Okay.” He could hear Tanner scribbling. “Chained. God.”

  “The scars are awful, like ropes. All the way around.”

  “Did he say who did it?”

  “No. I don’t think he even remembers that he’s a shifter.” He’d felt a fuzziness, a fog, when Nathan thought about being a man.

  “No shit. But you’re sure?”

  “Yeah. I’ve taken two wolves who were just wolves to a sanctuary in the last year.” He lowered his voice because Nathan was kicking in his dreams. “He’s a shifter.”

  Nathan had a name. He had a man’s name. Wolves didn’t sound like that. No, they had communication, but not like this. And Tom knew he wouldn’t be able to mate with just a wolf.

  “If you say he’s a shifter, he’s a shifter. I trust your instinct.”

  “Thank you.” Warmth filled his belly and chest. It felt so good to have friends who trusted in him. “Can I get more meat? I’ll pay for it.”

  “As much as you need. What do you want?”

  “Rich, red. Fatty. Something to help him heal. Cheap roast is perfect.”

  “We’re on it. I’ll send Ed over.”

  “No knocking. I’ll meet him outside, okay? I don’t want Nathan to run. And who’s Ed?” He had to ask.

  “Magpie. Lovely man. A little flighty, but lovely. Kind. Watch anything sparkly.”

  “Got it.” Ed sounded utterly delightful. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “No knocking. Should I call when he’s close?”

  “Please.” He decided he was going to wake Nathan up, though. That way if Ed needed to come in, he could lurk but not run.

  “No problem. Give us half an hour, forty-five minutes.”