by Alex Kidwell
Edwin whined lowly, turning to nudge his nose into Anthony’s side. Randall quietly went and found a pair of loose pajama pants to pull on, grabbing a blanket for Edwin. “You did good, Ed,” Randall told him, crouching by the bed and carefully covering Edwin up. “If you hadn’t killed him, he would have killed us. You did what you had to.”
After a long moment, with a sigh, Edwin shifted back. He wound up curled on the bed, his head resting on Anthony’s knee. “You didn’t kill anyone,” he pointed out quietly, tears brimming in his eyes. He looked so young. So vulnerable. Randall felt a spasm of guilt for letting Edwin be a part of that, of all of it, of a war that seemed so determined to shatter their quiet, sheltered lives.
“Redford did,” Anthony replied, smoothing his hand over Edwin’s hair. “Jed did too.”
“I would have,” Randall told Edwin. “To protect you guys, I absolutely would have.”
“But it’s okay to mourn.” Anthony looked pained, the corners of his lips pinched with guilt. Randall knew what he was thinking. Anthony was wishing he’d been the one to kill that hunter, not Edwin. Their whole lives, Anthony had been protecting them, had been taking on the hard stuff so they didn’t have to. Of course he’d wish he could take this too. “It’s okay to feel sad, Edwin.”
“Taking a life should always be something somber.” Randall wasn’t nearly as good at this sort of thing, but he tried. “Like when we thank the earth for giving us meat to eat. You protected your pack. There’s nothing to feel guilty about. But taking a life is something worth feeling remorse over. It would have been better if we’d never been in that position. The fact that we were doesn’t change that it sucks.”
Edwin sighed, but at least he was looking at both of them, less frozen and remote. “Can you guys stay with me tonight?”
It wasn’t until Edwin asked that Randall remembered Victor. He’d left him in the cabin; surely he’d be worried by now. “Yeah, Ed,” Randall said, gently rubbing Edwin’s shoulder. “How about you take a shower? I’m going to go, uh, use Victor’s shower, I think. I’ll be back as soon as I’m not covered in mud.” He very deliberately did not meet Anthony’s gaze at that, trying to sound casual. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded.
Despite the heavy mood, Anthony smirked suddenly. “So that’s why I can smell medusa all over you. Have fun in Victor’s shower.”
“Shut up, Ant,” Randall grumbled, but he couldn’t help his smile. One last hug to Edwin and Randall eased out of the door, making his way back to Victor’s cabin. He hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt or shoes. He really did need to wash, and he could put on his clothes after.
He knocked lightly on the door, cautiously poking his head in. “Uh, Victor? Are you still awake?”
He was grabbed in a hug before he could really react. “Good God, you’re all right,” Victor breathed in relief. Randall’s arms slowly went around Victor’s waist, pulling him in closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t join the, er, attack force. After my last attempt I thought it prudent to stay out of the way.” Victor drew back, cupping Randall’s face between his hands. “Are you all right?”
A very faint, rueful smile touched one corner of Randall’s mouth. “Edwin killed one of the hunters. He’s… understandably not doing well. And Anthony’s in pain, even though he’d never admit it. But I think they’ll be fine with a night’s sleep.” Randall rested his hand over Victor’s heart. “I’m glad you stayed inside. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“I’m glad your brothers are okay.” Victor raised an eyebrow. “But I did ask about you, specifically. You’re not injured?”
Blinking, surprised, Randall glanced down at himself. “I don’t think so, no. I nearly… one of the hunters nearly….” Randall pressed his lips together, shaking his head. “I’m perfectly fine. Not hurt at all.”
Victor nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Randall simply wrapped his arms more tightly around Victor, nudging his nose into Victor’s neck and taking a deep breath. “This. This is extraordinarily helpful.” After a moment, though, he pulled back with an apologetic wince. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess. I, uh, I don’t suppose I could use your shower?”
“By all means, use away,” Victor said. He looked reluctant to step back from Randall, but he did so in order to gather Randall’s clothes from where they’d been carelessly tossed. “There’s everything you’d need in there. I hope my shampoo doesn’t smell horrendous to a nose of your caliber.”
A faint grin crossed Randall’s face, and he pulled Victor back in to sniff enthusiastically at Victor’s hair. “No, I think that’s good,” he informed Victor innocently. “I quite like how you smell.”
There was a quick knock at the door, interrupting them. Randall went to it, cautiously pulling it open to find Mallory. “Sorry to bother you,” Mallory said, giving him an amused look with a glance back at Victor. “We’re setting up a heightened patrol around the camp for tonight. The Gray Lady wishes to speak with you and your group in the morning.” It wasn’t phrased as a request.
Randall nodded. “I’m about to head back to my brothers. I’ll let them know.”
“Good. We’re asking everyone to stay inside until morning as well. Just for security.” Mallory nodded at them both before taking off for the cabin Redford and Jed were sharing.
“Well, that’s going to be an interesting meeting.” Randall shoved his hair back, sighing wearily. He shuffled toward the bathroom, taking his clothes from Victor. He hesitated, their fingers barely touching, searching Victor’s face. “Have you… thought about it at all? What you’d do if the wolves really leave?” Perhaps this wasn’t the right time to ask. Maybe there was no good time. But the question was out there, hanging between them, and Randall knew he couldn’t take it back even if he’d wanted to.
“If you’d asked me a few days ago, my answer would have been very different,” Victor sighed. “Now? I have to admit, I don’t particularly like the thought of never seeing you again. I’m not sure what that means for my plans.”
It wasn’t a definite answer, but considering they’d only barely started, and Victor would have to uproot his entire life and his job the same as them, Randall figured he couldn’t expect much more. Randall took Victor’s hand and lightly kissed his palm, eyes closed. “That’s what I think too,” he murmured. He couldn’t leave his brothers. Anthony needed the pack. After everything Randall had done to get them there, he couldn’t just walk away.
So what could that possibly mean for him and Victor?
“I’m going to shower and then go back to my brothers,” he said quietly. “Edwin needs us there tonight. I was thinking about reading him some P.G. Wodehouse.” Randall gave Victor a slight smile. “I don’t know how you feel about things like that, or if you’d even want, but I thought I’d mention… my bed there is plenty large enough for two. If you were thinking about going to sleep soon and thought company sounded nice.”
“That depends on if your brothers snore.” The arch tone of Victor’s voice was softened by the squeeze of his hand on Randall’s.
“Oh, we all do. Very loudly.” Randall’s teasing smile just barely crinkled the corners of his eyes. “It’s a wolf thing.”
He left Victor to consider if he wanted to risk such a task, taking a quick shower and gratefully washing dried blood from his side, mud from his hair. When he came out, towel wrapped around his waist, he felt moderately more himself. A good sleep would take care of the rest, he was sure.
“Not much of an afterglow, was it?” Randall quickly tugged on his slacks, pulling on his shirt and trying to find where he’d set his glasses down. “I have to say, though, as far as first times go, I can’t imagine anything better.”
“I’m sure we’ll get a chance to try for a better aftermath.” Victor pressed Randall’s glasses into his hand. “Are we going back to your cabin now?”
We. Randall smiled. Picking up the book Victor had gifted him with, he reached out with his
other hand. “Yes. I think that sounds like a plan.” They walked together, Randall leaning his shoulder against Victor’s, feeling at that moment like there was very little he’d change in his personal life. However confused he might be about his and Victor’s future, he had this moment, and that was worth quite a bit.
“Edwin, I hope you have pants on,” Randall said as they entered. “Victor is going to sleep with me.” He said it boldly, chin out, almost defying his brothers to refuse Victor entrance.
“As long as I don’t hear anything below the belt going on,” Anthony grumbled. He seemed preoccupied with Edwin, who was in bed, fussing over his blankets. Randall got a spare pair of pajamas from his bag and handed them over to Victor.
“You can change in the bathroom, if you like.” He smiled at Victor, lightly touching the marks on Victor’s neck, wanting very much to kiss them. He contented himself with squeezing Victor’s hand. “There’s a couple of spare toothbrushes in my gray bag on the sink too. Help yourself.”
Edwin was watching them quietly, but even he didn’t seem to be much in the mood to comment as Victor went to the bathroom. Anthony had shoved all three beds together so it was one huge mattress to sleep on. Edwin curled up against Randall when he’d changed and crawled in, book in hand. “Are you going to read to me, big brother?” Edwin asked, sounding weary.
“I thought I might, yes.” Randall left the far side of the bed for Victor, slinging his arm around Edwin, squeezing Anthony’s shoulder. “Does that sound okay?”
“It better not be some textbook,” Edwin grumbled, but he settled himself under the blankets and seemed quite content to stay, regardless of the reading material.
“Hey, don’t complain,” Anthony snorted. “A textbook would send you right off to sleep, and that’s the aim.”
“Besides, you might even learn something,” Randall teased, laughing when Edwin poked him in the side. “Oh, hush. You’ll like this.” He honestly had no idea what the book was about, but anything Victor had cherished since he was a child Randall was absolutely certain he’d love. As Edwin settled in, Randall met Anthony’s eyes. “The Gray Lady wants to see us in the morning.”
Anthony just nodded, curling up under the covers. He looked exhausted. Randall didn’t blame him for not wanting more to worry about. Randall turned the pages to the start of the book, smiling fondly at Victor when he emerged from the bathroom. Randall had to admit, he quite liked the look of Victor wearing his clothes. As Randall started to read, he pulled down the covers next to him, waiting for Victor to slide in.
Victor looked a little awkward as he got in, obviously not used to the idea of sleeping in one big bed with three siblings. Randall hadn’t thought it odd. They had done it a lot, especially when they’d been younger or the one winter their fireplace had gotten stopped up and they hadn’t been able to heat the house. He nearly apologized to Victor, but Victor settled soon enough, curled up on his side facing Randall. Randall liked this far more than he knew how to express. His pack was there, was close and protected. It soothed him.
As he read, Edwin’s eyes slowly drooped until he was asleep, curled up on Anthony’s shoulder, his legs sprawled across Randall’s. Randall paused, smiling, exchanging a glance with Anthony. “I guess that went as well as could be expected.” He honestly didn’t want to stop reading, he was quite enjoying the story, but Anthony looked a few moments away from sleep himself. Randall closed the book and carefully reached across Victor to set it aside, along with his glasses.
“Do you like the book?” Victor’s voice was soft with sleep, nearly a slur. “It’s nice to hear you read it out loud. You have a good reading voice.”
Curving his arm around Victor, Randall smiled, letting his own eyes slide shut. “I do like it quite a bit. I like thinking about you reading it too. It makes me feel like we’re connected.” He moved around in the bed, getting as comfortable as he could with Edwin half on top of him. He wound up with his face pressed against Victor’s shoulder, arm slung over Victor’s chest. “I am glad you’re here.” He yawned, nuzzling in closer.
“Me too.” With a sigh, it sounded like Victor had dropped off to sleep. Randall kissed his chin, watching him for a few moments. Anthony was asleep now too, he and Edwin warm at Randall’s back, Victor’s arms around him. His pack was whole and safe and right there. For that moment, Randall couldn’t imagine anything better.
“Good night, Victor,” he murmured. And as sleep claimed him as well, Randall knew one thing for certain. There was no room at all in his mind for nightmares.
Chapter 14
Victor
WAKING UP to the sounds of three other people breathing in close proximity was not something Victor was used to.
He squeezed his eyes closed in reflex. He didn’t know where the other people were, and he couldn’t be sure they weren’t staring directly at him, just waiting for him to open his eyes and accidentally meet theirs.
It took a few moments for memory to filter back in. It was Randall lying next to him; beyond him would be Anthony and Edwin. Victor still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to sleep on three pushed-together mattresses with three wolves. It probably had something to do with the quietly upset look on Randall’s face last night, the pain of seeing violence and his younger brother hurt by it etched into his expression.
Randall was also right: they did indeed all snore.
Judging by the brightness beyond his eyelids—or lack of it—it wasn’t nearly time to wake up. It was, at best guess, the normal time most people got up, perhaps around six or seven in the morning. That was horrifyingly early in Victor’s book. So he didn’t open his eyes. He dragged a pillow over his head instead, hoping to block out the buzz-saw snoring. Edwin seemed to be the main culprit.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, Victor grunted quietly and dragged himself out of bed. Randall reached for him, arm across Victor’s abandoned pillow, murmuring in his sleep but not quite waking. Victor dragged the blankets a little farther over Randall’s shoulders before leaving, squinting heavily as he left the cabin.
He was torn. On one hand, he didn’t want Randall to wake up and think Victor had had second thoughts and left. On the other hand, if he’d stayed in there much longer, he might have throttled Edwin in his sleep.
It was at least somewhat warmer than it had been recently this morning, allowing Victor not to shiver too much as he walked back to his own cabin in Randall’s borrowed pajamas. He took a quick shower and got dressed, attempting to make himself presentable. When he looked at his watch, he grimaced. If Mallory had wanted them to meet with the Gray Lady, he likely meant now, or at least soon. Most wolves seemed to have a horrible preoccupation with getting things done early.
Victor returned to the Lewises. Once he’d shut the door behind him, he gently shook Randall’s shoulder. The man looked so peaceful that Victor hated to wake him. Randall stretched languidly, hair in his eyes, skin flushed with sleep. He blinked blearily and looked around, obviously confused.
“What—” Frowning, Randall tried to sit up, elbowing Edwin when Edwin tried to drag him back under the blankets like a human pillow. “What time is it?”
“Time for you to shut up.” Edwin’s mumbled reply came from where he’d buried his face in his pillow. “What are you doing up?”
“Hush, Ed,” Randall sighed. “Go back to sleep.”
“It’s nearly seven,” Victor said, keeping his voice low—God only knew why, seeing as he was trying to wake them all up. “We have a meeting with the Gray Lady.”
“Shit.” Apparently Randall cursed in the morning. Fumbling for his glasses, he nudged Edwin again. “Get up, Ed. Come on, we need to get dressed.”
“I’m giving up my wolf membership.” Edwin yawned so widely his jaw cracked.
“Too bad. Up, Ed. I need to go get Ant some coffee.” Randall managed to haul himself out of bed, pajama pants half slipping off of his hips while he searched for clothes. Victor could help, but he was too busy appreciating.
&
nbsp; Anthony gave an incoherent groan from the bed. “Oh my God, you guys, why are you moving around and talking?”
“We have a meeting with the Gray Lady,” Victor repeated for Anthony’s benefit. That didn’t seem to cheer Anthony up any.
There was a loud pounding at the door, and Edwin wailed, trying to burrow his way under the covers. “I will eat whoever is trying to blow down our house,” he shouted.
“Little pig, little pig” came Jed’s voice from the other side. “I brought coffee.”
Randall sagged back on the bed, apparently giving up in his search for matching socks. “Christ, come in. You’re my savior.”
Jed and Redford walked in, both juggling several to-go mugs of coffee. Jed stopped, staring at Anthony and Edwin still under the covers, Randall looking for his clothes, and Victor standing there next to them all. “Jesus, princess.” Jed whistled, eyebrows winging upward. “All of them? I don’t know whether to congratulate you or get you tested for steroid use.”
“Ha, ha,” Victor intoned. “Make yourself useful and give me caffeine. For once I don’t care what it comes in.”
Redford handed out the coffee, Edwin was finally prodded out of bed, and the Lewises got dressed. Randall was standing there, watching over Anthony while trying to not look like he was doing so, hands cupped around his drink. “Did you sleep well?” he asked Victor out of the blue, turning toward him. He flushed slightly, shifting from foot to foot, looking embarrassed. “I think that’s what one asks, correct? How you slept?”
Victor had slept like utter shit. He recalled waking up often, startled by the noises of other people in the room with him, confused about why the bed was moving, too many things that alarmed his brain enough to wake him up. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck and then sat on by an elephant for good measure.
“Well enough,” Victor replied. It was officially The Morning After. Though Victor had more experience with this sort of thing, he still felt a little awkward. “Your voice is a wonderful thing to fall asleep to.”
