by Iris Sword
“You still checking on those ferals Doctor Lobo?” Edward held back an ugly sneer as he turned to Pete Fisher, a local trapper contracted to help capture the rogue pack. He was as bigoted as he was annoying; anyone with half a brain knew not to call a shifter a “feral” ever since the Intergration Act was passed. But, as Edward finished packing up and slung his bag around his shoulder, Pete didn’t seem to have much of a brain at all.
“The shifters,” Edward made a point to emphasize the term as he closed his laptop, “are exhibiting a strange migratory pattern. One has broken away from Pack-B and is traveling a long distance. It’s unusual, and they seem fairly young. So, yes, I’m still tracking them to see why. It might give us some answers on how to properly establish a sanctuary for them.”
“Makes sense to me. But, you know, I find it strange they’d chose the winter time to leave their pack. No pack to protect them? Seems crazy to me!” Pete pulled his hunting rifle off his shoulder, and Edward barely suppressed his growl. If his memory was correct, Pete was the asshole that shot at a bear shifter not a week prior to his arrival. He made a big show about the shifter not respecting sanctuary laws, but the shifter turned out to be a local resident that was well liked. The only reason he wasn’t in prison was because the A.S.A. agreed to be compensated by his father’s trapping company to avoid a jail sentence.
Would be nice for my daddy to be alive and that damn powerful, Edward thought as he started walking towards his pick up truck. He wanted to get back to his rented cabin before the storm set in. There, he could sit down, pour over the data, regroup, and hatch a plan to find the omega.
“Hey, hey, hey. Not so fast now! I want to know something. What’re you gonna do with them once we round them up?” Pete asked.
Edward stopped in his tracks, black eyes narrowed into slits, on the verge of losing his shit, “Give them protection and sanctuary. What else would we do with them, Pete? Tell me?”
Pete threw up his hands, before walking over to grab one of Edward’s broad shoulders. He leaned in close and said, “Now listen, we’re both Texas born and bred. And, me and some of the other guys were thinking, well there’s some females in that pack. You see, just like you, we’ve been tracking the feral who’s gone rogue. But the thing is, we think it’s a pregnant omega. A rare thing, don’t you think? I hear fucking one of them is, wooh! Out of this goddamn world. So, hear me out. If—”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything, burro?” Edward roared, slapping his gloved hand away. Edward bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood, so he wouldn’t lunge and rip out the bastard’s throat. Per regulation, he couldn’t divulge the fact that he was a half-breed. It would taint the “objectivity” of his research in the public eye, according to the higher ups. It was a tough pill to swallow, especially when Edward heard ignorant, dangerous shit being said about his people. But, in that moment, he wanted to reveal himself just so he could have the pleasure of watching Pete shit himself with fear. Without his gun, Pete couldn’t do shit to him. Edward knew he could be on him in a heartbeat. It would take seconds to disarm him, and milliseconds to finish Pete off.
“Eh!” Pete sneered, backing up, pissed off, “You better watch your tone with me, Doc! I was just asking you a question.”
“I don’t give… I don’t care, Pete. I truly could care less about your question, and I don’t need to answer any questions that ain’t work related. And, I definitely don’t want to hear about anything that sounds like a conspiracy to poach and traffic a pregnant omega of an endangered species, or I will report you and your boys to someone who doesn’t answer to your daddy!” Before Pete could get another word in, Edward stormed off. He was getting riled up, and he didn’t like the direction Pete was going in. Nothing good came of asking what was to be done with shifters who came under the protection of sanctuary laws. Since their “discovery” by everyday civilians, shifters of all breeds had been hunted to the brink of extinction, or worse, forced into new forms of slavery. The Mexican gray wolf population was already basically a captive species, and once word got out a single family was still “wild” and shifters at that… Edward didn’t like to think about it, the way his family had been corralled into cages as he was separated from his parents, never to be seen again. Just the thought of it happening to Pack-B made his blood boil. If he could stop it from happening, he would. And, if anyone on his team thought otherwise, well, he might have to start cutting them off quite literally.
✦ ✦ ✦
Glassy lakes bisected thick patches of evergreen timbers, and snow-capped mountains dotted the pale blue horizon. It was a serene scene, something out of a wilderness landscape portrait. Smooth Latin jazz floated from the radio set in his truck, as Edward drove up and down the winding roads towards his cabin just outside of Juneau. Edward was nearly home when he decided to grab a snack. He reached over to pick up a bag of candy when his life flashed before his eyes. Out from the forest, a person leaped onto the road. A split second stretched into minutes as they made eye contact: the man’s naked body glistened with frost, skin a deep ochre-brown, jet black hair falling past his waist coated in snowflakes creating a halo like effect. What captivated Edward the most was the stranger’s eyes, one white and one gold. He looked like an angel, and he would be soon if Edward didn’t react in time to stop himself from crashing.
“MIERDA!” Edward shouted, closing his eyes, slamming on the brakes, bracing for an impact he was praying to every god and goddess that would listen wouldn’t happen. As he came to a screeching halt on the icy road, he spun out of control. The sickening crunch of wheels on ice made Edward physically sick as he imagined the stranger’s bones underneath his tires. He whipped back, tightening his grip on the wheel, attempting to not hydroplane to his death, fearing he would slam into the railing and fly over the cliffs edge. When he finally gained control of his truck, all he could do was rest his head against the wheel and exhale a lifetime’s worth of stress. Then, his brain started misfiring, trying to connect thoughts that lead to nowhere. Finally, his mind coalesced around one mission: figure out if he just killed somebody because he wanted a bag of sweets.
“Oh God,” he grunted as he threw open the door. To his horror, the man was laying on his side in the middle of the road, motionless. Edward raced to him, eyes shifting from black to gold, canines elongating, nails sharpening as he lost control of his emotions. In mid-transformation, Edward landed on his knees next to the fallen man, and instantly smelled something that sent him to the pits of despair.
“My omega…” Edward’s voice broke as he cradled the omega against his chest, trying to keep him warm. No halo of blood surrounded him, which brought Edward some relief. As he brushed back his thick hair, it became obvious it was the omega that seduced him and fled. Only this time, he looked anything but seduction. He looked weak and hungry. Edward tensed as his eyes opened, staring up at him, still dazed. Edward’s eyes trailed the length of the omega’s body, his sense of relief that he was alive fleeting. His hard, round belly could only mean one thing. Edward almost killed his fated mate over a bag of candy. Edward wanted to die right then and there.
The omega tried to reach for Edward, but his arm faltered and fell to the ground. His breathing was ragged, and something that could potentially be frostbite seemed to be forming on his hands and legs. His omega was in bad shape, but not enough to warrant a funeral procession. Edward thought about sprinted to his home. In his current form, they could make it before sundown. But, he risked being seen and blowing the whole operation to bits. He could called Dr. Sedna and the A.S.A., but they only saw extreme cases like shifters with gunshot wounds or other serious ailments after the recent round of budget cuts. Unless his omega was giving birth right then and there, they’d be turned away. Which left Edward with one option, get them to his cabin without being spotted, perform first aid, and get him warm and fed.
Edward picked up the man slowly, trying not to break anything on his body, before racing to his truck. Two tires we
re blown down to the rims, and he could only wonder how he didn’t flip the truck altogether. He opened the door and made a virtual fort of blankets and coats around the omega. Edward remembered he had a book of preferred contractors saved on his phone. His service was shot, but he had a satellite phone at his disposal. He pulled his paper thin touchscreen out of his pocket and went to his contacts, scrolling upward frantically until he came across the only towing company with a phone number and name. Then, Edward maneuvered around his fated mate and his den of blankets, reaching for the boxy satellite phone stashed away in his glovebox. Once he had it, he angled the long antenna to the clear but darkening sky, dialing the 907 area code. Edward waited for a miracle worker to come from Cato’s Towing Co., the cool glass on the screen stinging the side of his face.
“Help...me…” The omega, his omega breathed out, obviously in pain. He didn’t appear to be injured by the crash, but he was exhibiting signs of dehydration and malnutrition. Both were dangerous, compounded by the cubs growing in his belly, cubs Edward wasn’t prepared to fully accept as his mind tried to catch up with the events of the day.
“Sssh. You’re sick and pregnant. Very, very, fucking sick and pregnant… You’ve gotta rest. I won’t let anything bad happen to you!” As the omega continued to fuss weakly, Edward added, “I’m calling for help, but I need you to rest and try to recover, okay?.”
Edward released a burst of pheromones meant to keep the omega calm. His omega closed his eyes and released a long, painfully sigh before falling into a deep sleep. Edward paced outside the truck, clutching a fist full of his hair, mumrung “come on, come on” as the phone finally connected.
“Hello? Is this Cato’s Towing Company?” Edward asked.
“Yes sir, this is Augustus Cato speakin’.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded older and friendly, and vaguely familiar in the panic soaked hazed Edward was operating in.
“I, ah… Well, how about I give you a general address and you give me the fee? But, I need you to hurry!”
✦ ✦ ✦
Edward desperately hoped he could write off the accident as a hazard of the job, but was more concerned about the omega he was cradling in his arms. Something was special about the pregnant shifter, he could feel it in his bones. Edward’s anger about his disappearance faded away, replaced by an aching need to touch him and be in his presence. But first, they needed to get back to the cabin. The sky was now jet black, and vicious flurries smacked against the tow truck’s windshield as they drove to Edward’s cabin. Cato had come in a hurry, just as he promised, and they were only a few minutes away.
“I really appreciate you letting us ride with you, Mr. Cato. I couldn’t risk calling a cab in this type of weather this far away from town.” Edward glanced over so he was speaking directly to him. Cato was a big, burly, and hairy dark-skinned man who looked no more than thirty, but was probably pushing sixty-plus. He wore a pair of beige overalls, a black cap with ear flaps lined with white fur, and a red and black lumberjack shirt, the sleeves rolled up just past his elbows. The only thing giving away his age was his salt and pepper afro popping out from underneath the hat, dull gray mustache, and a patch of gray chest hair peeking through his unbuttoned shirt. Edward thought he must be cold, but then it was gone, replaced by panic once more. Edward chalked up his lack of ability to form coherent thoughts on the accident. He didn’t even file a report with the A.S.A. so focused on getting the omega back to the cabin where he’d be safe.
“‘Course. Me and my old lady Idamae live just a few miles away from your facility, so it worked out that you called me. She told me it would be a good idea to contract my services to the Alliance. Alotta times they need towing services when a shifter gets angry and destroys a carrier. Alotta them end up in the hospital, too. That said, your partner looks hurt, but I wouldn’t bother trying to airlift him to a hospital in this storm. Let me know if you need any supplies to patch him up because this storm is getting worse.” Edward smiled. He wouldn’t call his cabin a facility, but it could appear that way with all the gadgets he had hooked up in the backyard connected to a generator. The A.S.A. hadn’t made his purpose a secret, but Edward did find it strange Cato was keenly aware of what he was doing. Most residents didn’t seem to give a damn if it wasn’t related to humans. Edward looked down and cupped the omega’s sweaty face. He was injured, but not fatally so. Cato was right. Some rest and a steady drip of intravenous fluid would do him just fine. After all, Edward’s kind was a hearty bunch.
“What do you do for a livin’, if you don’t mind me asking?” Cato said.
Edward shifted his attention back to their savior, “Well, my official degree says I have a PhD in Animal Behavior, which takes an interdisciplinary approach to animal conservation and a whole lotta boring shit I’m sure you don’t want me to go into detail about. But, I specialize in...shifter migratory patterns and sanctuary onboarding.”
“Hmm…” Cato said, allowing a pregnant pause to set in. “So... I should be calling you Dr. Lobo, huh? Well, I’m happy that you found that shifter. Well, more like didn’t splatter him on the road. Once the United States hands over most of this territory back to the Natives, I’m hoping the shifters have it easier. They’ve been a little more willing to negotiate fair territorial treaties with shifters, on account of the bullshit that’s happened to them for five hundred years or so, give or take.”
Cato laughed, a deep, rumbling sort of laugh that made Edward smile. He seemed genuinely concerned about his omega’s safety, and a decent man, which put Edward at ease. Working with people who either outright or covertly hated his kind day in and day out was exhausting. It was nice to be in the presence of a friendly companion for once that wasn’t Dr. Sedna, too. Plus, it distracted him from his erection pressing against the omega’s bottom every bump they hit in the road. His reaction was unnatural for him, but Edward wasn’t all that surprised. Pheromones didn’t care about sickness or health. Or, so Edward convinced himself, even though he knew deep down his visceral reaction to the omega ran deeper than a biological response.
“Turn up here!” Edward said, pointing to a dirt road on the upcoming fork in the road. “So, you run the business with your wife, huh? How’s she holding up since moving from Georgia to here of all places?”
“Well, some piece of human garbage hurt my Idamae, so she’s been outta commision. You would’ve heard her voice on the phone tonight, but I have to do the admin shit for now. I damn near went to prison, but she begged and begged and begged and pleaded for me not to do anything to that piece of shit. So, I’m waiting for retribution to bite him in the ass and for us to collect a big fat check so I can buy her something nice for her birthday. For now, she’s resting at home.” Cato’s voice dropped low in a menacing tone, his black knuckles tightening around the wheel as he pulled up in front of the cabin. They sat in stony silence afterward, as Edward tried to process everything that had just transpired.
“This it?” Cato’s said, breaking the awkward silence.
“Oh, yeah. Let me get out. You can dump the truck right behind you. I’ll work on it once the storm clears up.” Edward unlocked the door and climbed out, as Cato got to work pulling off the belts that secured his pickup truck to the tow truck’s loading bed. After it came to an unceremonious stop near the end of the driveway, Cato reached in and grabbed the keys.
“Well, thank you, and I send my regards to your wife,” Edward said, holding the omega firmly against his chest as he reached for his wallet with his other hand. Cato handed him his keys, and Edward waited for Cato to hand him his receipt too so he could pay, but he didnt move.
Instead of reaching for the receipt in his pocket, something flashed within the depths of Augustus Cato’s dark brown eyes. An eerie aura permeated the air, and Edward was sure that what he was smelling was a shifter’s pheromones. Cato lifted his top lip, mustache bunching up as he spat. His blunted canine teeth seemed longer, black tipped nails thicker, expression near inhuman in nature. Then, it hit
him all at once. Edward cradled the omega to his chest so hard he feared he would snap him in two, his instincts telling him to defend when he knew in his heart of hearts Cato wasn’t a threat. Cato was a friend.
How did he suppress his scent for so long? No, dumb question, there’s blockers for that. But… Wait. What did that report say again? A possible shooting of a female Ursus americanus transformare? Yeah, that’s right. Fuck, that means… Edward’s thoughts trailed off for the millionth time that day as he put two and two together. As the winds picked up, and the snow fell at the speed of heavy rain, Edward could do nothing but howl in anger, bearing his sharpened teeth as a warning. Nothing was ever a coincidence. There was a reason his omega had made the dangerous journey to track him down, just as there was a reason Cato was standing before him now.
“Look here, boy, I ain’t come here to fight you. I came here to talk, shifter to shifter elder!” Cato’s voice boomed through the air, distorting the snow falling around him. Edward’s shoulders hunched then fell, resisting the urge to attack. He had to use his head and not rely on instincts at the moment. Something hadn’t felt right since that morning, and now he knew why. An alpha was trying to make contact with him, an alpha from another subspecies at that. Any other day, they’d be in the grips of a battle to the death if they confronted each other in the wild.
“What? I need to get this omega inside, now.” Edward’s eyes glowed like burning suns in the darkness, grinding his elongated teeth. His tone was harsh, even a bit rude, but it was a side effect of trying to stay cool and collected. As a full-blood who hadn’t been in his true form in years, his emotions dominated his transformation sequence. He was losing the ability to shift on cue. By the way Cato wasn’t flinching, Edward figured he was either a full-blood or pure-blood shifter, one who was used to going in-between forms.
“I’ll cut to the chase. Nothing good comes of surrendering your rights, and I hear that you were sent to sanctuary those wild wolves. I’m here to tell you that’s a bad idea. I have nothing against them, but they won’t come quite. And the government has a habit of shooting first and investigating later when it comes to our kind. Plus, their sickly, that omega included. They’ll die off soon enough, free. Sometimes keeping a shifter alive is worse than letting him meet his maker,” Cato stated plainly.
