by Julia Talbot
It wasn’t just Rene, either. There was another man near hysteria, so panicked. Then he heard it. “Please. Please help me. I don’t know how to help you. Or me.”
Barthe tilted his head. That wasn’t a voice he knew, but the shaking, growling voice was near hysterical. He peered around the door, seeing Rene lying on the floor, bleeding.
The other guy was... whoa. That was a mess. Awake he could see what was what. It wasn’t a monster, it was one of them. Half-fuzzy, half-naked human. Jeez. He put a hand down, stilling Bastien’s leap.
“He needs help, frère.”
“Who... who’s there?” Glowing eyes searched the shadows, the guy trapped between wolf and man. Fuck, that had to hurt, so bad. “Please. Please, I... There’s a hurt wolf here. I need help and I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay. I’m his mate. I can help you.” Barthe stepped into the warehouse, Bastien circling quietly to flank him.
“I... Oh, it’s you. I’m sorry. I just wanted your help. No one will talk to me. No one.”
“Honey, I don’t know you.” He approached slowly, sniffing hard to see if Rene was all right.
“But... You were there, that night, with the others. I followed you. You seemed nice.” Poor confused pup.
“No, honey. I been in the bayou. And north, up in the pines. Maybe Bastien.” They were as alike as bees.
“I...” Sweet baby. “I don’t... I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“Of course not. I need to look at my mate, honey.”
Barthe lifted a lip at Sebastien, mouthing, “help me.”
Sebastien shook off the wolf, making soft, low sounds meant to soothe, to comfort, and the little guy groaned.
“Please. Please, I dream about you. You’re supposed to help me. I’m Greg.”
In the stretched, malformed mouth, the name was grrrrraig.
Bastien would deal with the half-breed. Barthe headed for Rene, his mate curled up, sides moving with harsh, rough breaths. He knelt down, running his hands over Rene’s body. There was a deep, long tear on Rene’s side, but it was trying to knit, to heal.
He needed to shift, to bathe it. His wolf could help it heal. “You got this, brother?”
“Uh-huh.” Bastien was focused, laser sharp on the guy-wolf-thing. “Easy, now. I can help you. I can.”
Trusting his brother as he always had, Barthe shifted to his wolf form, the momentary agony reminding him what the poor halfling had to feel like right now. Then he went to healing his mate.
Rene couldn’t focus, but Barthe heard the soft whisper of
“mate” in the back of his skull.
That was it. Good boy. He licked some more.
The bite was deep, long, but it wanted to knit together, wanted to heal. Poor baby wolf was even less experienced than Rene, leaving a wound like that.
Bastien was cradling the poor thing, touching and easing.
That was something else. Gross, if you asked him, but then, Bastien had been the one the poor pup had been after, so maybe it was a thing.
He found that he didn’t give a shit. All he cared about was his chiot.
Rene. Douce. Wake up and talk to me.
Mate? Mate, he hurt you. Rene’s mental voice came through strongly.
Oh, thank the gods. He smiled. No, love. I am safe. Here.
Open your eyes.
I fought him. I tried. He was... Rene shuddered, whined softly, and he cleaned off the white fur.
Shh. It’s fine, douce. Bastien will care for him.
You’re not hurt. Those eyes opened, focused on him.
He licked Rene’s jaw. I’m fine.
I want to go home. He could feel how much Rene wanted to have a home, a place.
Me, too. Now he had to decide where they would go.
Back to the pack? Maybe, but they had never accepted Rene.
“Brother? Brother, where are we going to take this one?
He needs to heal before he can shift.”
He met Rene’s eyes, knowing he had to get his man back on. He grimaced, his body stretching, cracking. “I don’t know. Maybe here.”
“Here?” Bastien looked around, nodding. “I’ve slept in worse. Need food, though. Supplies. Need to help him.”
Why on earth hadn’t they found these two in a four-star hotel? Maybe an old mansion.
Huh. Now, there was an idea. “No. We find somewhere on higher ground. Bound to be someplace boarded up in the Fauborg that’s not full of black mold.”
“I’ll go get my truck.” Bastien looked at the... thing.
“You stay here. That’s my brother. I’m coming back with food and a truck.”
“You swear?”
“Je promets, moi.”
“He never breaks a promise.” It seemed important to let the guy know.
“Never.” Bastien touched Greg and Barthe had to fight his shudder. Then again, who was he to judge? His mate was enough to make some wolves growl. Huh. It would suit him to the ground, if his best brother mated with an outcast. Would serve the pack right. “I’ll be right back, frère. Soon.”
“I’ll keep an eye on your -- on him.” He would, even as he made sure Rene was well.
“Merci.”
Rene stayed close, eyes on Greg, watching every step.
Poor guy was a mess. Barthe shook his head.
“How did this happen, man?”
“I’m a vet. I was out jogging and there was a wolf hybrid of some sort, hit by a car. I tried to help him and he bit the shit out of me.”
“And when did this --” He waved a hand at the poor body, twisted half in and half out of shifting.
“About three days later. Before that I kept dreaming about you... I mean, him. I mean...”
“No shit? Well, Bastien never did find a mate in the pack.”
“He kept promising to help me. I’m a monster and it hurts. I’ve never felt a pain that didn’t get better.”
“We’ll help.” He didn’t know how, but they would try.
“Rene? Chiot? You gonna make it?”
Rene blinked at him, panted, and he heard the soft whisper inside him. Think so. Tired of running.
Shhh. We’re going to find our own pack, bebe. Right here, maybe.
Here?
He could feel Rene’s curiosity, but more than that, he could feel their connection. Now that Rene gained strength back, it thrummed with life. His mate. He wanted to howl with pleasure.
Instead, he smiled, not wanting to make Greg feel bad.
This was, possibly, the most awkward situation he’d been in... ever, and lord knew chasing Rene all these years had made for some weird days.
Rene pressed close, then closed his eyes, tight.
“Shh. It’s all right, chiot. It is.”
He crouched down, unashamed of his nudity, touching his mate with careful strokes of one hand.
Rene made a happy noise, pushing into his touch.
Such a good pup. He kept touching, kept an eye on Greg.
“I cleaned the wound up. I would have stitched him up, but my hands aren’t right.”
“I’m sorry this had to happen.” He was. The whole situation sucked because he couldn’t even be mad.
“Me too. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I love animals. All kinds. I’m not a mean man, I just hurt all the time and I’m scared.”
“Of course you are. If anyone can figure out how to get you back to normal, it’s Bastien.” He stroked Rene’s back, worried about his snarky, high-strung mate. So quiet. So still.
He’d never once seen Rene still.
Love? He checked in again, just to hear Rene’s internal voice.
Mate. Mate, don’t leave me here.
Never. We just need to stay until Bastien comes. He thought Greg needed them. And Rene needed a pack to be in.And he needed to feed everyone. Steak.
Rene’s tail wagged.
“Yes. Steak.” He smiled.
Greg’s stomach rumbled. “God, that sounds amazing.”
/> Bartholome could only imagine how much energy the man was expending, caught as he was. Maybe feeding him would make it easier to change back. Who the hell knew?
He hoped that Bastien did.
He glanced around, taking in their surroundings, seeing what he could use, what might be helpful.
The warehouse was trashed, mostly cleaned out, marks on the walls proving how high the water had gone. Lord.
No, he’d been right the first time. Bastien needed to find them a house.
Somewhere private. Safe. Solid. Somewhere Greg could... something.
He hoped. Bartholome pulled Rene closer, nuzzling.
Rene’s muzzle pushed against him, his mate’s nose warm, dry. Poor baby had a fever. He had to find some water; he couldn’t wait on that.
“Is he okay?” Greg actually looked worried.
“Feverish. He needs food, water.”
“I have a bottle of water and one beef jerky left. I saved it for him, for when he woke up.”
He nodded, looking Greg in the eye. “I appreciate it.
Bastien will bring more.”
“It’s in my pack.” Greg limped over, fetched a torn backpack, and brought it to him. Barthe could smell the pain, the desperation, but the fear was eased.
“Thank you.” He touched Greg’s hand/paw.
Greg made a soft, dear noise and Barthe’s heart broke a little bit. Poor pup. He had to be just freaking out.
“Sit with us? Being with pack can make things better.
Rene will feel it, too.”
“Thank you.” Greg sat, panting heavily.
Rene lifted his head, snuffling. God, what a mess this was.
He fed Rene water, his mate lapping at the bottle. He waited on the jerky, knowing it would be tough to break down.
It felt like forever before he heard the low, “I’m back with the truck, y’all. Let’s get somewhere safe.”
“Come get your boy,” Barthe said, lifting Rene in his arms.
“Coming. Greg, we’re going to the bayou. We’re going to fix this.” Bastien sounded so sure.
“No house in NOLA?” Greg laughed, the sound strained.
“You’ll need a place to hunt, cher.”
“Oh. Oh, okay.”
Barthe was ashamed he hadn’t thought of that. “So, where to, frère?”
“I have the truck parked outside. We’re heading north. I called a friend with a hunting camp. He’s leaving the keys.”
“Good deal. Get a blanket for your boy so no one else sees him. We don’t need cops coming for the rougarou.”
“Yeah. I stopped and grabbed waters and burgers, the back seat of the truck has blankets.”
“Good man.” He wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to sit with Rene, but lord knew Greg ought to sit in the back.
Bastien didn’t give him a choice, though, bundling Greg into the passenger seat. He handed up a blanket, and Bastien covered the man while he got Rene settled in his lap. His mate sighed and cuddled right in, muzzle pushed against his belly.
“I know.” He stroked Rene’s ears. They should still be exploring their reunion, not dealing with this shit.
They needed some time, some space. More skin on skin.
The good things.
This whole situation was amazingly fucked up. Poor Greg was whining, a low, almost subvocal sound.
“Shh, cher. Close your eyes and breathe.” Bastien gave him a wild look in the rear view.
“You got a first aid kit in here, frère?” Their pack policy was to carry a tranq in a kit. He had no idea why he hadn’t thought of that before now.
“I do. Under the seat.”
“Good deal.” He’d drug Greg, and see if he could find anything to ease Rene’s wound.
It wasn’t going to be easy, to inject Greg in the shoulder, the man’s eyes staring back at him. As soon as Barthe showed Greg the autoinjector though, he got a nod.
“Good.”
“Yeah. Just breathe, man. This will help.” He stuck fast, trying to keep the pain at a minimum.
Greg didn’t even yelp, just sighed, and Bastien hummed, the sound familiar as the scent of their momma.
Bartholome grinned. Better. That release from tension made everything better.
Rene’s side was knitting up, the connection between them helping. He took time to breathe, to pet his mate.
Rene stayed close and quiet, pushing at his hand whenever he stopped petting.
Barthe smiled and let Bastien drive. They would need a plan, but right now, things were quiet and they were safe.
***
Rene woke when the truck stopped, and Barthe lifted him again, taking him out into the night air. The lad tried to lift his head, but he clearly too tired.
The camp was quiet, the scent of water close. The building smelled a little musty, but he scented no snakes or alligators.
The cabin door opened, and the scent of wolf hit him, making him whine a bit. Yes. This was a safe place for them, where others of their kind had been.
“There are two bedrooms, frère. You take the first one here. I’ll get Greg settled.”
“Thank you. Holler if you need me,” Barthe said, laughing. “But not too soon.”
“No. If you hear howling, ignore us.”
“I’ll try.” It wasn’t much in his nature to avoid someone who needed help, but Rene had to have care, too.
Bastien nodded, leaned in. “Gon’ have to bite him, I’m thinkin’.”
“I think so, too. Better you than me, chou.” He shifted Rene so he could clap Bastien on the shoulder. “Go.”
The room had a bed, a chair, a window -- clean and simple. Perfect.
He closed the door behind them, taking Rene to the bed.
They needed touch. Quiet.
Connection.
He stripped down, let his wolf come as he wrapped around his mate, grooming and cuddling, licking. He wanted to cover Rene with his scent. So much work he’d put into this pup. It was what happened, when you fought the moon like he had.
Blowing out a wolfy sigh, he licked Rene’s ears. Rene finally started grooming him back, loving on him. Yes. Just like that. Good lad.
Rene vocalized to him, the sounds getting stronger, happier
The man would be able to change soon so they could talk. Chitchat wasn’t his strong suit, but sometimes a man had to. Until then, he wanted to love on his mate. He sighed, curling his tail around them.
Rene headbutted him, tail thumping.
He chuffed, licking that fine muzzle. Yes, someone was already feeling better. Being with Greg had distressed his boy more than anything, seeing someone caught between wolf and man.
Rene healed faster with his help, too, with the bond humming between them. This was what he’d been chasing all these years. This need that stretched between them to touch and share their triumphs and sorrows. He’d been insane, making them wait. Clearly he’d been stupid, but he was ready now.
Rene was ready too.
Now they just needed to heal.
***
There was howling. Loud howling.
Pained howling.
Rene frowned, shaking himself awake, barking. Alarm!
Alarm! Mate!
Barthe was right there, nuzzling his muzzle, vocalizing softly. It’s okay. Bastien has him.
Oh. Oh, good. He rolled over, nose to nose with the most beautiful wolf in history. His mate. He felt safe, loved, which he hadn’t known in so long.
Barthe groomed him, the long swipes of tongue soothing and wonderful, dragging over his pelt and smoothing his fur. He sighed, shivering a little with the pleasure of it.
Such a simple thing, the grooming, but it meant everything.
By the time Barthe was finished, he was wearing his man’s skin, panting and watching his mate in the warm light filtering through the windows.
Barthe had shifted as well, and touched him with human hands, kissing him in random places.
The long gash down his side was a
pink scar now, bubbly and odd, but healing.
“Better.” Barthe smiled for him, so beautiful. He’d forgotten how amazing his mate was, how he loved that face.
All that running had clouded his memories.
He reached up and held Bartholome, thumbs tracing the man’s lips. Barthe nibbled at him, licking the pad of his thumb. Rene groaned and nodded, curling close, sucking up comfort like he was a sponge. He loved how big Barthe’s body was, how warm. Barthe chuckled, nuzzling his ear.
“Don’t have to bind you this time, hmm?”
“Hush.”
“Oh, I think it’s been too long since we chatted, chiot.”
“We’ve never chatted. Not really.” He met Barthe’s eyes.
“You’re not going to keep me away now.” He knew it.
Knew it in his soul.
“Tell me, chiot. Tell me you’re mine as I am yours.”
“I want to be yours.”
“You are.” Barthe kissed him then, a slow melding of mouths that left him breathless.
Rene’s fingers sank into Barthe’s thick, heavy hair, holding on tight. He wanted more kisses, more touches. His skin tingled, his body healing itself under Barthe’s touch.
Barthe muttered into his lips, feeding him happy little sounds.
They rocked together, both of them moaning. Their skin warmed, their breath came fast. He whimpered as his cock filled, his entire body tingling.
“Sweet. Oh, chiot. Yes. Need you.” Barthe was like no one else.
Rene ought to know. He’d tried more than once to fuck Barthe out of his mind.
“Never again.”
He chuckled. “Quit eavesdropping.”
“I can’t, douce. All I can hear is you.”
The words settled in the base of his brain and grew, swelling inside him and letting him breathe deep. He wanted this -- pleasure and connection and a place to be. A mate who wanted him.
He would let all the hurt and fear go. For Barthe.
Bartholome fed him the most lovely groan, hands mapping his skin and keeping him loose limbed and melted. That big body moved against his, skin rough with hair, hands rough with calluses.
“More. Need you.” He offered Barthe his throat, his belly.
Barthe bit down on his throat, hand stroking his stomach.
Taking his offering. Proving to him his cock still worked.
Hell, he’d never been so hard and felt so relaxed at the same time. He stretched, his hands sliding up above his head. Barthe nuzzled under his arm, lips moving to tease a nipple.
