by Lila Dubois
“What are you on?” Christoffer asked him, laugh fading to a smile.
William fished a bottle out of his pocket and held it up.
“Norco? Hello, my pretty,” Christoffer said, taking the bottle. He twisted the cap off, fished one out and dry swallowed it. William’s left eye was open, regarding him balefully. “Just a little something to take the edge off,” he told William with a smile.
“Brilliant,” William said, letting his head fall back against the wall. “I have a gay druggie werewolf.”
“Wrong on all three,” Christoffer replied cheerfully. “I’m bi, I can quit whenever I want and we don’t call ourselves werewolves.”
William snorted. “Aren’t you going to grab the other keys and run for it? I couldn’t stop you.”
“I wish I could.”
“Why can’t you?”
“You’re my Alpha.”
“You said that before but I don’t understand.”
“And if I tell you now you won’t remember, so let’s wait.” Christoffer said it with a smile, but part of him hoped to avoid it forever. He was afraid of letting Lord William know exactly how much power and control an Alpha had.
He sat next to William, their shoulders touching. Christoffer picked up a bottle of water and glugged it down, then dug into the sliced ham. He was parched and starving. He ate in silence for five minutes, consuming almost all of the food. He left some chicken and a piece of bread for Mirela, though he could easily have eaten them.
“How is she?” William asked.
“Annoying.” Christoffer felt William jerk in surprise. “Well, she is. She goes on and on about how obedient she is, and she lectured me on obedience earlier, and then she flips when asked to do something she doesn’t like.”
“She’s young,” William said.
“And stupid.”
“You’re not what I expected.”
“Neither are you. I was planning to run away,” Christoffer said conversationally, “after a month or so. We don’t really need your protection anymore.”
“Yes, you do. I provided the bribe money that got the wolf zone established.”
Christoffer cursed inwardly. The wolf zone was protected land and critical to his family. “Thanks for that, but you know if we go outside it they shoot us from helicopters.”
“I’m working on that,” William said sleepily. His head was nodding forward onto his chest. Christoffer carefully shifted it so that it lay on his shoulder. The older man sighed, his face, which had been tight with pain, smoothing out as he drifted to sleep.
“Wolf?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Do not leave me.”
Christoffer’s heart panged. “Never, my lord.”
Christoffer eased William’s head down onto the food bag, which he’d turned into a makeshift pillow. He brushed William’s dark hair from his forehead. He was a handsome man, and nice enough when he relaxed.
The meds had given Christoffer a mellow buzz. He looked over at Mirela, who hadn’t moved. Either she was pretending to sleep or really was so tired she’d passed out. Letting himself into Mirela’s cell, he put his hand on her arm. He could see tear marks on her cheeks and his heart clenched. He really hated it when girls cried.
“Take this,” he whispered, handing her the food.
Her eyes were open but he could tell she wasn’t really awake. He was relieved, literally, to find that the strange outcropping in the wall of Mirela’s cell was a tiny bathroom. There was a toilet and a sink, no shower and a second door led out of the bathroom into the other cell.
Feeling much better after a good pee, Christoffer left Mirela’s cell, locking it behind him, and returned to William. He didn’t even pause to look at the exterior door. He would never leave his Alpha.
“You have keys.” Mirela was sitting up, ripping the chicken into little pieces and watching him.
“He almost passed out when he walked in.”
“Let me out.”
“No, Mirela.”
“He told you to keep me locked up?”
“He didn’t need to. The only reason I have the keys is that he needs help.”
“I will help him.”
“You’re the reason he’s in pain. You’re the reason he’s so doped up that he’s passed out.”
“I want to help make it right.”
“That’s your problem. It doesn’t involve me.”
“But if you let me out I can help you.”
Christoffer shook his head. Settling down on the floor, he took William’s head onto his lap, then reached up and turned out the lights.
Chapter Five
“Change,” William intoned.
Hiding his amusement at William’s solemn command, Christoffer stripped off his clothes, throwing them carelessly to the side. When he looked up he caught William staring at his cock.
“See something you like?” he teased, even as he dropped to his hands and knees.
William’s response was lost amid the whipping wind that surrounded Christoffer. The scents of the forest caused a pang of longing so strong it was nearly a physical hurt. He’d been in this godforsaken building for a week, seeing the outdoors only when William came or left. He wanted to run, wanted to smell the trees and earth.
Once he was a wolf, Christoffer padded over to William. The world was stripped of much of its color, but in exchange he could smell and hear things utterly lost to him as a human.
He pressed his nose to William’s leg and sniffed. The lord smelled of washing powder, fabric softener and wool. Beneath that was the scent of the man himself, his sweat and musk.
William smelled like an Alpha should, strong and powerful. The clothing, with its annoying fake scents, got in the way. On instinct, Christoffer pressed his nose to William’s crotch and sniffed. Here his scent was stronger and there was a hint of sex. Had he fucked recently or had he just jacked off?
William pushed Christoffer’s nose away. The lord was growing bolder with his touches. Those first few days he’d been hesitant, and with good reason. As a wolf, Christoffer’s shoulders came up to William’s waist. He was far bigger than a wolf in the wild would be. Like modern humans compared to ancient counterparts, generations of good nutrition and health care had allowed the wolves of Christoffer’s pack to grow larger.
William presented his hand to Christoffer, who licked it.
“Christoffer,” William said on a sigh.
Christoffer laughed, which came out as a huffing noise. He opened his mouth and took William’s wrist between his teeth. He held it there for a moment, not hurting him.
William withdrew his wrist. “Good.”
Christoffer dropped his head and puffed out a breath, the wolf equivalent of an eye roll. William’s plan for training, a rather stupid plan in Christoffer’s opinion, involved moves most often seen with lion tamers. If William tried to put his head in Christoffer’s mouth, Christoffer was going to say something. Something like “This is stupid”.
For now he was happy to play along. These sessions were his only entertainment. The rest of the time they were left locked up in their cages. Christoffer had been moved into the second small cage next to Mirela so he could access the bathroom. William had provided stacks of newspapers, magazines and books, but Christoffer had never been much of a reader. His favorite times were when William would stay and talk, though he wasn’t an easy conversationalist, at least not when Mirela was awake.
When she slept William would sit down, his back to the wall, and relax. Once he stopped being the Lord of Eahrington and started being William the conversation flowed. Each night William stopped by to tell Christoffer the cricket scores and repeat the highlights. More than once Christoffer had to bite back a comment on how nice it would be to see the games for himself. Why he was being punished for Mirela’s crime he didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to ask.
Any mention of freedom would surely break the trust they’d found.
“Change back,” Willia
m intoned.
When Christoffer was again human he rose from his crouch, brushing his hands together.
William regarded him calmly, his gaze pointedly above the waist. “You think this is useless, don’t you?”
The question caught Christoffer by surprise. “What, the training?”
“Yes.”
Christoffer wanted to lie but couldn’t. “Yeah, I do.”
William nodded. “Why?”
“Because these are stupid tricks. If you really want to trust me, and know if I trust you, I need to run. Send me into the forest and see if I come to your whistle. Let me show you respect by hunting a stag for you. Those are wolf things. This,” he gestured at the pen, “this is for training circus animals. Where did you get these ideas?”
Christoffer thought he could see the faintest blush on William’s left cheek and almost groaned aloud. He had been using a lion-taming book or something.
“You’re right,” William said, “and it was always my plan to do those things. I just had to familiarize myself with you first.”
“Of course, my lord.” Christoffer bowed.
“Sod off,” William said sourly. He pulled a covered plate from a bag near the door and gave it to Christoffer, along with cutlery wrapped in a napkin. Christoffer sighed. Figures that William would give the caged animals plastic silverware wrapped in monogrammed linen napkins.
William took the other plate to Mirela, tipping it to get it through the bars.
She took it, head bowed.
“What about me, my lord?” she asked, and her voice startled them both. She hadn’t said anything beyond a few thank yous this past week.
“To what are you referring?” William asked, voice cold.
She flinched at his response and with a trembling voice continued, “When will you train me?”
“After that last attempt I am hesitant to do anything with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Of course.” Her eyes were glistening with tears. It made her almost unbearably lovely.
“Are you sorry you didn’t escape?”
“No, I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t want that.”
“It was a mistake you gouged my face?” William asked, indicating his bandage.
“No, I mean yes. It’s true I was… I was aiming for your face, but that was a mistake. I should not have done it.”
“Then why did you?”
“I need to fly,” she said quietly. “You were stopping me from that. It was instinct.”
“If your instinct is to attempt to blind me, then you will continue to stay as you are.” He turned away.
She’d walked right into that trap, Christoffer thought, wincing a little for her. There was nothing she could say that made it better. Either she’d done it knowingly, in which case she was dangerous, or she’d done it by instinct, in which case she couldn’t be trusted.
Your instincts haven’t been tested, a malevolent inner voice reminded him. It’s easy to obey while locked in this room, but what about in the forest, when you give over mind and body to the wolf? Will he still smell like Alpha, and will that protect him, or will he smell like human, weak and tasty?
“Please, my lord!” Mirela was pressed against the bars. William hadn’t returned her clothes, so her trim waist and breasts were on display. Christoffer felt a bolt of lust as he looked at her. She was gorgeous, and rather helpless and supple-looking—just the way he liked women.
William stopped, his back to her. “Perhaps we will try again. In a few days.”
She opened her mouth to protest but Christoffer glared at her. Honestly, the girl didn’t know when to quit. His lust faded as his general annoyance with her returned.
William bowed his head to Christoffer. “Tomorrow we’ll go out, into the woods.”
Christoffer couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his face. William frowned. “Don’t make me regret this,” he said, letting himself out and locking the door securely.
*
“The collar stays on until we’ve come to the location of my choosing. Do not try to run. The gun is loaded. Especially do not try to run when you are human, as the tranquilizers in the gun are for horses and might kill you.”
Christoffer warily regarded the rifle draped over William’s back. It was very big and very black. Christoffer didn’t like guns.
“You’re not going to shoot me, are you?” He desperately wanted to get out, but he also didn’t want to get shot. In here and alive was better than out there and dead.
“Not unless you make me.” William unlocked Christoffer’s cell and let him out. Mirela was pressed against the bars, her face a study in longing. Christoffer glared at her to remind her to keep her foolish mouth shut.
William unlocked the front door and motioned Christoffer out. For the first time in a week, Christoffer felt the sun on his face.
It wasn’t until that moment he realized how greatly he’d been suffering from being cooped up inside. He could go weeks without changing into a wolf, as there were very few cities with parks wooded enough for him to run in, but during those weeks the wildly careening life he led satisfied the wildness of his dual nature.
The quiet boredom of this week had been painful.
“This way,” William said.
Christoffer followed him into the woods that butted up against their little home, which Christoffer had several times heard William refer to as the “pen”. He’d forced himself to laugh at that.
Branches and leaves cracked underfoot. It was early autumn in England and there was a bite to the air. The simple shirt and jeans, which reeked because he’d been wearing them all week, were little protection from the cold.
A gust of wind brought the scent of deer—so strong he could smell it even as a human—and Christoffer stopped.
“What is it?” William asked.
“I can smell the deer.”
“They’re kept inside a fenced area. They’re a protected herd.”
Protected? Now was probably not the time to tell William he’d killed and eaten one the first day he was here.
“Though a carcass was found a few days ago. Tell me, would you be able to smell another predator?”
William looked over his shoulder as he asked the question, and something on Christoffer’s face must have given away his thoughts. William sighed and said, “Do not kill any more deer. The last thing I want is someone reporting this to the Environment Agency.”
“I was hungry.”
They trekked for another five minutes before William stopped. Christoffer was vibrating in anticipation. All around him were things that he couldn’t make out as a human but could as a wolf. He wanted to experience the forest the way he was meant to—on four paws.
“I’m going to climb up there,” William said, pointing to a hide—a hunting platform—about ten feet up in one of the trees. “I will watch you from there.”
“You will not be able to see much.”
“I warned you not to run from me.” William’s hand rested on the strap of the gun.
“Whoa, don’t shoot. I’m saying that you won’t be able to pick me out. As a wolf I’m nearly invisible in the forest.”
“You’re not small. I’ll be able to see you.”
“Think so?” Christoffer smiled. “How about a game? I’ll stay near this tree, and every time you see me yell ‘bang’ and point at where you think I am. I’ll try to get as close to the tree as possible without being seen. If I get within, say, two meters, I’ll howl. Whoever gets the most wins.”
“And what’s the prize?” William slipped the wooden icon between the emblems of Christoffer’s collar and it popped open. William took it from Christoffer’s neck. The skin-to-skin contact sent shudders through the younger man.
“Doesn’t matter,” Christoffer said with a shrug. He pulled off his shirt as he toed off his shoes. William hadn’t given the direct order but it was implied, and Christoffer couldn’t wait another minute.
“But just to make it interesting,” he said as he shucked his jeans and boxers, “let’s say a kiss.”
Grinning, he dropped to his knees and changed.
William stepped back as the baseless wind swirled around them. The golden-haired boy melted away and in his place was a massive wolf with pale-blond legs that darkened to a gray back and muzzle.
The wolf nudged William’s hip with his head, then bounded into the woods.
William shook his head as he climbed the ladder onto the circular hide. It had been years since it was used—to hunt a deer that had been injured escaping the fenced-in area and needed to be put down—but the wood held.
A kiss? He’d begun to suspect that the boy had feelings for him—romantic feelings. That made him uncomfortable for several reasons. He’d spent one morning researching Stockholm syndrome, afraid the boy was “beginning to identify with the captor”, but somehow the situation didn’t seem to fit.
More importantly, William was straight. The boy’s crush was doomed to disappointment. He was not, and never had been, interested in men. Knowing how the boy felt made William uncomfortable. He wanted to say he was flattered and dismiss it, but couldn’t make himself discuss it.
He was afraid what that discussion might lead to.
Christoffer was a strange mix of outrageous Continental gigolo and rock-steady soldier. William had been so sure that the wolf would be the greater problem, especially after his first meeting with Christoffer, that he was still thrown by the relationship developing between them.
Relationship wasn’t the word he wanted. That implied…something. Something William didn’t want.
He’d yet to bring up Christoffer calling him “Alpha”. He knew what the term meant, of course, but not what rights or powers it carried with it.
William had been intently watching the bushes, walking in a slow circle around the tree so he wouldn’t miss any angle. It had been nearly five minutes since Christoffer changed.
Had it all been an elaborate ruse? Was the boy gone, never to be heard from again? The very idea brought bile to William’s throat. He’d been wrong, painfully so, about the falcon, who’d fooled him with her demure demeanor and beauty. Had the wolf’s obedience, teasing and conversation been a ploy to get William to release him?
