Wolfsong

by TJ Klune

  “And it’s not that he’s a guy. You’ve fucked men before.”

  “What the hell. Just going to throw that out there, are you?”

  “Is it that he’s seventeen?” Carter asked. “Dad won’t care. Well. He probably won’t care too much.”

  I stared at him in horror. “What are you even talking about?”

  “Ox,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child. “It’s Joe, man. What did you think was going to happen?”

  “I don’t… I just… he was wearing those shorts and—”

  Carter grimaced. “Okay, smelling it was one thing, but hearing about it is one step too far. That’s my little brother.”

  I let out a slightly strangled noise.

  “Ox, you know this was always going to happen, right?”

  This stopped me cold. “What?”

  “The wolf.”

  “I told you, I don’t care that he’s a wolf—”

  But Carter was already shaking his head. “Not that. The stone wolf. The one he gave you for your birthday.”

  “What about it?”

  Carter sighed. “Man, this isn’t going to go over well.”

  Which did nothing to make things better. I told him as much.

  “Look,” he said. “When wolves are born, their Alpha gives them a wolf carved from stone. Sometimes they do it themselves. Sometimes they have others do it. But each natural wolf is given one. I don’t know when it started, and honestly, it’s some archaic bullshit, but whatever. It’s tradition, and you know how Dad is with tradition.”

  I nodded, because I did.

  “It’s a wolf’s most treasured possession,” Carter continued. “Something to be protected and revered. Or so we’re taught.”

  “Then why did he give it to me?”

  Carter smiled quietly at me. “Because that’s what you’re supposed to do with it.”

  “I don’t—”

  “When we’re old enough, we’re told that one day, we’ll find someone. Someone that feels good to our wolf. Someone that makes our heart race. Someone that completes us. Tethers us. Makes us human.”

  Gooseflesh prickled along my skin.

  The birds sang in the trees.

  The leaves swayed on the branches.

  It felt green here. So very green.

  “When we find that person,” Carter said, “when we find that one person that makes us forget everything bad that’s ever happened to us, well…. That’s what the wolf is for. It’s a gift, Ox. A promise.”

  “A promise of what?” I croaked out.

  He shrugged. “It can mean many things. Friendship. Family. Trust.” He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the forest. “Or more.”

  “More?”

  “Love. Faith. Devotion.”

  “He….”

  “Yeah, man. He did.”

  “He was ten.”

  Carter opened his eyes. “And he spoke to you after not speaking for over a year. We all knew. Even then.”

  I felt a weird sense of betrayal at that. “Yet another thing to keep from me?” I asked, unable to stop the bitterness in my voice.

  Carter shook his head. “You were sixteen, Ox. And you didn’t know about werewolves.”

  “But when I did—”

  “Jessie,” Carter said.

  And so many things clicked into place. “Holy shit,” I breathed. “That’s why—”

  “That and you were kind of a dick about it.”

  I glared at him.

  He shrugged.

  “I’m not going to do anything about it,” I said. “He’s young. He’s going to college. He’s going to have a life. He’s my friend, and that’s—”

  Carter snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that, Oxnard. Trust me. When Joe catches wind about this—and he will—you aren’t going to stand a chance.”

  “He won’t,” I said, determined. “And you won’t say a goddamn thing.”

  He grinned at me.

  CARTER MADE me go back home and shower, saying that my stench was overwhelming and there was no way I could eat with them, smelling like I did.

  I punched him as hard as I could.

  He just laughed at me.

  I tried to drag it out as long as I could, thinking of absolutely everything but Joe.

  The shower lasted four minutes.

  I was dressed and walking back toward the Bennett house ten minutes later.

  I could hear them all, including my mother, in the backyard. Elizabeth was laughing. Carter was yelling at Kelly. My mother was talking with Mark.

  Before I could round the corner of the house, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  I didn’t even need to turn to know who it was.

  But I did anyway.

  Joe stood behind me, eyes concerned, fingers trailing down my arm, gripping my elbow lightly. We were standing so close to each other, inches apart. I could feel the heat of him, his knees bumping mine.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hi,” I managed to say back.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “Uh-huh. Want to try that again?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Ox,” he said in that tone of voice that we both knew could get me to do anything he asked of me, and now that I was aware of what exactly that could entail, I could barely breathe.

  “The wolf,” I blurted out.

  “What? What wolf.”

  I scowled. “The one you gave me.”

  From this close, I could see the faint flush spreading up his neck. But his eyes never left mine. “What about it?”

  “I just… I’m. Thank you? For it. I guess.”

  “You’re welcome? Why are you—wait. What did you and Carter talk about?”

  “Um. Nothing?”

  “Really. That’s what you’re going with.”

  “Nothing,” I insisted.

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “You’re acting weird.”

  He rolled his eyes. “The smell thing, the going off with Carter in the woods, bringing up the wolf out of nowhere. Don’t even get me started on walking into the side of the house when we came back from….”

  He trailed off, and I knew that expression on his face. I knew what that meant. That was the look he got when his mind started racing into overdrive, putting all the little bits and pieces together.

  “We should probably go eat,” I said hastily. “We don’t want to keep everyone waiting. It’s very rude.”

  His eyes widened.

  Well fuck.

  “Ox,” he said, a hint of his wolf poking through, eyes flashing. “Anything you’d like to tell me?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Absolutely not.”

  “You sure about that?” he asked, his grip on my elbow tightening.

  I just barely managed to pull my arm free. “I’m hungry,” I said, voice rough. “We should—”

  “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  I blinked.

  He smiled at me.

  My heart stuttered a bit.

  The smile widened.

  No one commented as we rounded the corner, though I was sure every single one of them aside from my mother had heard the entire conversation. Carter winked at me. Kelly looked rather pleased. Mark smiled his secret smile. Elizabeth watched me fondly. Mom just looked confused.

  Thomas, though. Thomas looked more at ease than I’d ever seen him before.

  Joe crowded into my side, sitting down next to me, not leaving any room between us.

  The meal was an exercise in torture.

  He leaned in often when talking to me, breath on my neck, whispering in my ear.

  He touched my arm, my hand, my thigh.

  He had a straw in his soda. He never used straws. Never. But he had one now, pulled from somewhere, eyelashes fluttering up at me as he sucked, cheeks hollowing.

  I dropped my fork. It clattered loudly ont
o my plate.

  “Joe,” Thomas sighed. “Really?”

  “Oops,” Joe said. “Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

  Kelly said, “Oh man, this makes so much more sense now. And is much more gross.”

  “I made pie for dessert,” Elizabeth said, coming back to the table. “Whip cream topping.”

  I groaned.

  Joe looked delighted.

  Even more so when he ran a finger through the cream, licking it from his skin, never taking his eyes off of me.

  Carter and Kelly had matching looks of disgust and horror on their faces.

  “Stop it,” I hissed at him.

  Joe cocked his head at me before leaning in and saying in a low voice, “Oh, Ox. I’m just getting started.”

  and a bow tie/anything for you

  I SHOULD have known he wasn’t going to drop this.

  He let me have three days to worry over it. To fret over every little detail of every interaction we ever had.

  Things made sense now. Jessie. The men I’d slept with. The way he’d disappear from my life for days after them.

  And Frankie. Frankie had been his attempt at… what. A normal life? Something that wasn’t me?

  I didn’t like Frankie, I discovered. At all.

  Three days. He let me have three days.

  Three days of him smiling at me.

  Three days of trying to figure out the hidden meaning of every text he sent me.

  Monday and Tuesday, he was waiting for me on the dirt road as I walked home from work.

  He said, “Hey, Ox.”

  I blushed.

  We walked home together, me trying to find the words to say this can’t happen and you deserve so much better than me and you were only ten, how could you do that, you were only ten years old, but unable to speak them aloud.

  His hand often brushed mine and I thought to take it every now and then.

  The third day, he wasn’t on the road.

  I wanted to feel relieved.

  Instead, I was disappointed.

  Until I got home.

  Mom had had the day off, the first in a long while.

  So, of course, she was home when I got there.

  And so was Joe.

  Sitting at our kitchen table.

  Wearing dress pants, a dress shirt.

  And a bow tie.

  Which, unbeknownst to me, turned out to be one of my greatest weaknesses.

  I walked into the kitchen door at the sight of that.

  “Huh,” Mom said. “Things are starting to make sense now.”

  I rubbed my sore nose as I scowled at the both of them. “What’s going on?”

  “Joe asked if he could speak with me,” Mom said.

  “I brought her flowers!” Joe blurted out, sounding breathless and nervous.

  “And he brought me flowers,” Mom agreed, tilting her head toward the vase sitting on the table, filled with irises, her favorites. How he’d found that out, I’d never know.

  “Why are you bringing her flowers?” I asked.

  “Because Mom said it was nice to do and would get her on my good side when I asked her if it’d be okay that I kept you for the rest of my life,” Joe explained. Then his eyes widened. “Shit. That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”

  “Oh my god,” I said faintly.

  “You want to keep him for how long now?” Mom asked, squinting at Joe.

  “Uhh,” Joe said. “Crap. This isn’t going like I wanted it to. I had everything I needed to say planned out. Hold on.” He reached down and pulled a notecard from his pocket. It was rumpled, the corner ripped. He stared down at it, mouth moving silently as he read whatever the hell he’d written on it. A drop of sweat trickled down his forehead.

  This had to be a dream.

  “Joe, maybe we should—” I tried.

  But he looked up at my mom, a determined set to his jaw. “Hi, Ms. Callaway,” he said. “These flowers are for you.”

  I groaned.

  “Thank you, Joe,” Mom said, lips twitching. “Is what I said ten minutes ago when you gave them to me and then sat there staring at me while waiting for Ox to get home.”

  “Right,” he said. “You’re welcome. Speaking of Ox, I’ve come to talk to you about him.”

  “You’re wearing a bow tie,” I said unnecessarily.

  He glanced over at me. “Mom said I had to dress up for this.”

  I heard a low snort of laughter coming through the open window above the sink.

  And I knew.

  I stalked over to the window and looked outside.

  There, sitting spread out on the grass, were the rest of the Bennetts.

  Goddamn fucking werewolves.

  “Hello, Ox,” Elizabeth said without a hint of shame. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “I will deal with all of you later,” I said.

  “Ooh,” Carter said. “I actually just got chills from that.”

  “We’re just here for support,” Kelly said. “And to laugh at how embarrassing Joe is.”

  “I heard that!” Joe shouted from behind me.

  I banged my head on the windowsill.

  “Maggie,” Joe said. Then, “May I call you Maggie?”

  “Sure.” My mother sounded like she was enjoying this. The traitor. “You can call me Maggie.”

  “Good,” Joe said, obviously relieved. “Do you know Ox over there?”

  “I’ve heard of him,” Mom said.

  “Okay.” Joe glanced down at his card before looking back up at my mother. “There comes a time in every werewolf’s life when he is of age to make certain decisions about his future.”

  I wondered if I threw something at him if it’d distract him enough for me to drag him out of the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder out the window. Carter waved at me. Like an asshole.

  “My future,” Joe said, “is Ox.”

  Ah god, that made me ache.

  “Is that so?” Mom asked. “How do you figure?”

  “He’s really nice,” Joe said seriously. “And smells good. And he makes me happy. And I want to do nothing more than put my mouth on him.”

  “Ah well,” Thomas said. “We tried.”

  “He’s our little snowflake,” Elizabeth told him.

  “You want to what?” I asked Joe incredulously.

  He winced. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.” He was sweating much more heavily now as he looked back at my mother. “I want to court your son.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “It means I want to provide for him to prove my worth,” Joe said. “And then, once he agrees to be mine, I’ll mount him and then bite him and everyone will see that we belong to each other.”

  I was wheezing something awful.

  “Joe,” Elizabeth called in from the window. “Maybe not talk about that part just yet. Or ever.”

  “Right,” Joe said, pulling on his bow tie like it was too tight. “Forget I said that part.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” Mom said, looking between me and Joe.

  “Mounting?” I managed to say. “Of all the things you could have gone with, you went with mounting?”

  “I’m nervous!” Joe cried. “It’s not my fault! That was the only thing I could think of!”

  “You have it written down,” I hissed at him.

  “I mean,” Mom said, “you just threw it out there like it was nothing.”

  I ignored the sounds of choked laughter coming from behind me.

  “Okay,” Joe said. “Let’s try this again. Hi, Maggie. How are you? These flowers are for you. I think your son is the greatest thing in the world.”

  Everyone fell quiet.

  “Do you?” Mom asked.

  He nodded. “I do. There’s a lot you don’t… know. About me. Things were… hard. For a while. Sometimes, they still are. But Ox. He—just. I have nightmares. About bad men. About monsters. And he makes them go away.”

  I tried to swallow past the
lump in my throat.

  “And I’ve been waiting,” Joe said. “For him to look at me like I looked at him. And he finally did. He finally did. And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it stays like that. Because I want him for always.”

  “You’re seventeen,” she said. “How can you possibly know what you want being so young?”

  “I’m a wolf,” he said. “It’s not the same. We’re… wired differently.”

  “And if he says no?”

  Joe paled. “Then, uh. I guess. I will. Be okay? With that?”

  “Would you?”

  He nodded, hands clenched into fists at his side. “Maybe not. But I would respect it. Because Ox is my best friend above all else. And I would have him any way I could.”

  “Hmm,” my mother said. Then, “Ox? What do you think?”

  Everyone held their breath.

  And I… what.

  Stared, maybe. My skin felt too tight.

  Like it would split.

  Like it would split and then I’d wake up because it was just a dream. All of it was just a dream.

  And so I said, “Why?” because that was the one thing I couldn’t quite figure out. The one thing I couldn’t get. My daddy was dead but he’d said I was gonna get shit, and this wasn’t shit. This was terrifying, this was opportunity. This was responsibility, and it wasn’t shit. It wasn’t shit at all.

  “Why what?” Joe asked. He sounded confused.

  “Why me?”

  Now he scowled. “Why not?”

  “You’re going to be Alpha one day.” And he’d be a great one.

  “And?”

  I looked down at my hands. “That’s important.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not….”

  “You’re not what?”

  “You know. Anything.”

  Then he was in front of me and he was pissed. He practically vibrated with it. “Shut up,” he said. “Just shut up.”

  I said, “Joe—” but he cut me off with, “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to even think something like that.”

  “You’re seventeen—”

  He was snarling now, and I knew if I looked up at him, his wolf would be fighting through. “So? You think I don’t know what I’m doing? You think that because I’m only seventeen I don’t know what I’m talking about? I haven’t been a kid for a very long time, Ox. That was taken away from me the first time he made me scream into the phone so my mom could hear it as he broke my fingers. I haven’t been a kid since he ripped it from me and made me into something else. I know what this is. I know what I’m doing. Yes, I’m seventeen years old, but I knew the day I met you that I would do anything for you. I would do anything to make you happy because no one had ever smelled like you did. It was candy canes and pinecones. It was epic and awesome. And it was home. You smelled like my home, Ox. I’d forgotten what that was like, okay? I’d forgotten that because he took it away from me and I couldn’t find it again until I found you. So don’t you sit there and say I’m only seventeen. My father gave Mom his wolf when he was seventeen. It’s not a matter of age, Ox. It’s when you know.”