by Robin Moray
Now the 'run and hide in a motel room' idea seemed extreme and stupid, a total overreaction. What was he doing? He should just go back, talk to his sister, maybe he was hallucinating, or maybe he had rabies or–
The knock at the door took him by surprise, but then it made him angry. Fucking hell, of course his sister would track him down and not even call first.
He threw the door wide, already yelling at her. "God dammit, Jackie–"
But the eyes glaring at him from the outside walkway weren't hers, were instead luminous gray and framed by the last face Callum wanted to see right now.
Nero. His name was Nero, Callum reminded himself, and he took a step back, ready to slam the door closed again but it was too late, the werewolf (and he was never going to get used to that) stepping into the doorway with one hand against the faded paint of the door. He was wearing jeans tucked into boots, a black v-neck t-shirt, and a scowl, and Callum found it all too appealing. Not fair, not fair!
"Let me in."
Callum looked down to where the wolf had one booted foot over the threshold, and then up again. "Do you need an invitation?"
Nero snorted, leaning in and glaring with the intensity of a bonfire. "I'm not a vampire."
It was kinda hilarious. "No, I guess not. So, I can't stop you, can I?"
The werewolf shook himself, not the head-shake of a 'no' but an all-over-shake as if something crawled over his grave. "It's polite to ask," he said eventually, but his frown was deep enough that Callum knew for a certainty that saying 'no you can't come in' would not go well for him.
"Fine. Come in, mister wolf. Like I have a choice."
He stepped back, trying to keep a distance between himself and the stupidly handsome man in his doorway. Nero breathed in hard through his nose, and then followed, closing the door behind him and lifting his chin to sniff again.
Callum thought ... well, it was obvious, really. "Are you smelling my room?"
Nero's glare was powerful, and it took Callum a whole lot of backbone to stand up straight in the face of it. "It smells bad," Nero said, and Callum couldn't really argue.
"Beggars and choosers, you know?" He backed up until the bed hit him in the calves, and the throb of his leg-bite was a reminder of how ridiculously terrifying it all was. "Not like I had much choice."
"There's always a choice," Nero said, with a quiet sincerity that Callum couldn't argue against.
Except. "Really? Really? Because yesterday you told me I'd have to have sex with a stranger or die."
Nero stopped halfway between the door and the bed, and his expression was so blank Callum thought he could do a good impression of a corpse, if he wanted. "That," Nero said slowly, "is a choice, in itself. Choices," he added, his voice deep and dark, "aren't always easy."
It was enough to make Callum's blood boil. "It's not a fucking choice! You can't ... how can you think that's a choice? Death or, or the other thing. That's ... that sucks!"
He expected Nero to growl at him, or snap or snarl or any of the things he'd seen Nero do to his stupid pack. He wasn't expecting Nero to nod, to sit on the end of the bed and then, after a small hesitation, to sprawl across the bedcovers like some kind of threatening catalog model. He definitely wasn't expecting Nero to pat the bed by his side, eyebrows lifting in question.
After a moment, Callum sat down. "Okay." He shook his head, hands clenching into fists on his knees. "Okay. Obviously you want to talk. As if that'll help."
Nero tilted a little to one side, brow furrowed in thought. "You don't want this."
"No, I fucking don't."
"I don't want this, either."
Callum couldn't help the incredulous face that he knew he was making. "Bully for you."
"If there were another way, I'd take it. But the pack won't let you go free."
"I thought you were the alpha," Callum said bitterly. "Can't you just tell them to leave me alone?"
"No. It's the law." Callum opened his mouth to argue, but Nero clearly wasn't finished. "They will hunt you down," he went on, eyes flickering up to catch Callum's gaze and hold it. "Wherever you go, they'll find you. They'll kill you. They would have killed you already, if I hadn't claimed you as mine."
Callum couldn't look away. He wanted to argue, but he could tell that this, at least, was true. He closed his mouth, and waited for the werewolf to go on.
"The bond," and Nero looked awkward now, as if this was something he didn't want to discuss, "is a kind of magic I can't fight. I'm at its mercy. Holly–" He grimaced. "She caught me with it when I was too young to know better. She wanted, and I couldn't refuse her." He breathed in, held the breath, and let it go. "Now she's dead, but I'm still leashed. I need someone to take up the bond, or I'll die. And if I die, the pack will kill you." He blinked wide gray eyes that made Callum's heart skip. "I don't want to die. And I don't want you to die. So. Here we are."
Callum took a deep breath. Okay. "Is there another option?"
Nero shrugged, glancing away, and the wrench of his shoulders pulled his shirt taut across the muscles of his back. Callum wanted to touch them. He didn't. "There is."
"And what's that?"
Nero shook his head. "I take a bond-mate from the pack, and the pack kills you." He looked up, blinked those beautiful eyes, and Callum thought, Oh. "I'd rather not. And so."
So here we are. "Okay."
Nero didn't move, just watched with bright, inhuman intensity as Callum shifted on the bed, as he raked a hand through his own hair and shunted a breath out of his lungs, trying to think of a way around this. But.
"You could let me go."
"The pack will find you," Nero said, sounding sure of this. "But," and there was something in it that promised things, promised them reluctantly but promised all the same. "If we made a bond then you could go. No-one would bother you, then. You'd be free. Unless I died; you'd need to bond again. But wolves live longer than humans, you shouldn't worry."
"It still sounds like 'fuck me or die'." Callum tried to put the full weight of his glare into the look he turned on Nero, but Nero ignored it. "I could run too far for your pack to find me."
"You could," Nero agreed, but he dashed Callum's sudden hope with the next thing he said. "The bite that Holly gave you will kill you, eventually." He frowned at his hands, making knots of themselves in his lap. "The bond would cure it." When his eyes came up this time Callum was ready for them, stared them down as best he could even though his heart was pounding. "The other option is death. For you, it's death every way. For me ... I don't need you to live. But." He shrugged. "I don't want you to die."
"Bullshit," and Callum felt enraged by the suggestion. He'd just die otherwise? No. No, it's not ... no. "There has to be another way."
"A witch could heal you," Nero said, smooth and even, but there was something in his tone that said, That will never happen. "If you know one, they could heal your bite, maybe hide your tracks from the pack." He looked up, eyes bright and gorgeous in the flickering light of the dingy motel room. "I won't stop you, if you go that way." And he hesitated, and it was awful. "Do you know a witch?"
Callum didn't. Obviously.
It all seemed so ridiculous, and yet ... he'd seen them, the pack of them, roaming around that gloomy old house, had seen that girl twist from wolf-shaped to human-ish, with her fangs and her claws and eyes that glowed in the dark.
"Is it possible," he said out loud, more to himself than the hundred-and-fifty pounds of wolf-cake sprawled on the bed beside him, "that I died in that car crash, and this is just a hallucination my brain came up with in the last seconds before it ran out of oxygen?"
"Possible," Nero said seriously, as if it was a serious question to ask. "But unlikely. Are you willing to take that chance?"
"No. I end up dead that way too." Callum took a deep breath, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged on the bed. "Okay. I'll do it. I'll bond with you. Just ... I need some time."
"I'll give you as much time as I can, but we only have unt
il the next full moon before it will be too late for both of us." Nero said that seriously too, just as seriously as before, and that, more than anything, made it seem suddenly real.
"Uuurgh." Callum scrubbed his fingers through his hair, tired and sick of it all. "How is this my life? I just ... all I wanted was to get through the stupid reunion and, and maybe talk to my sister. That's it. Visit and go. I don't want ... all this."
He couldn't help it if he sounded miserable. He was. And if part of the reason he felt so terrible was because, well, under other circumstances? If Nero had really wanted him, then ... jeez, he wasn't made of stone.
The silence stretched out between them until it became uncomfortable. Callum was almost ready to say something just to break it when the werewolf shifted on the bed.
"Here," Nero said, lifting a hand and holding it out. "Come here."
Callum eyed him warily. "Why?"
"I'm going to mark you."
Nero's eyes were bright and dangerous in the dim light of the motel room, and Callum couldn't be trusted to make good decisions under these circumstances. "What? Why?"
"The pack doesn't trust you yet. You should smell like me." He curled his fingers. Callum felt it like a tug on his collar. "Come."
He wanted to. He wanted to go over and ... it wasn't his fault, honestly, because Nero was too good-looking to be real, all black-lashed eyes and high brown cheekbones. He was lean and handsome, and Callum could be forgiven for wanting that, couldn't he?
Nero's brow drew down into a scowl. "I won't force you."
"Okay!" Callum scooted up next to him. "What do I have to do?"
"Nothing. Just permit this."
Nero brushed the backs of his fingers against the buttons of Callum's henley, sliding them up the neckband until his hand closed warm and firm on the back of Callum's neck. The skin contact was hot and even though he'd been expecting it, Callum shuddered, blinking away the urge to close his eyes. It felt good, but still, a werewolf was handling him, and he tried to keep his breathing even, tried not to panic.
Nero made a low sound that was completely unlike a growl. He smoothed his thumb along the pulse throbbing in Callum's throat. "I won't hurt you."
"Right. Because I believe you."
Nero's frown was sharp. "I won't lie to you."
"Yeah, I believe that, too."
The frown bent into a scowl, and the fingers on Callum's neck tightened very slightly. "You don't trust me."
"Why should I?"
"Have I given you reason not to?"
It was a fair question, and no, Nero hadn't done a damn thing to make Callum doubt him. Except for the obvious. "It's hard to trust someone who's threatening you with death." But he tilted his head, baring his throat. That's what Nero wanted, right?
The sharp intake of breath seemed to indicate that yes, this was what Nero wanted. Still, he took a moment before leaning in to press his nose to Callum's throat. Callum closed his eyes, trying not to shudder. There was a werewolf at his jugular, and something in his tiny lizard brain was screaming at him to run.
Nero took a deep breath, and Callum struggled to keep the hysterical giggle from bubbling out of his mouth. The wolf was scenting him. He wondered what he smelled like, beyond motel soap and terror. But then Nero tipped his cheek up into the hollow of Callum's throat, rubbing up against him like a cat which was ... actually, that made sense. Marking him. That's what cats did, right? Marked their territory?
"Tell me," he said, more breathless and squeaky than he'd like, "you don't have to pee on me for this."
Nero snorted, his breath warm on Callum's skin. "It's not necessary. Would you prefer it if I did?"
"Hell no," Callum breathed, and then he yelped because Nero had leaned up to close his teeth on the corner of Callum's jaw. "Ah! Could you warn a guy?"
It didn't hurt. Nero held him gently, just teeth indenting his skin, not really biting and not sucking in a hickey, either. Then he shifted to nuzzle up under Callum's chin, coming around to rub his cheek on the other side of Callum's jaw.
And then he leaned back, eyes unblinking, just looking at Callum in a critical sort of way that Callum wasn't sure he disliked.
Then he nodded. "Good. That will do, for now." His hand lingered for a moment on the back of Callum's neck before he took it back, leaning on the palm and looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. "Do you mean to stay here tonight?"
Callum gaped at him for the space of three heartbeats before closing his mouth with a snap. "Well, it's paid for."
Nero nodded again, and leaned down to unfasten the laces of one boot. Before Callum registered what was happening he had the boot off and had started on the laces of the other.
"What are you doing?"
That gray stare was still unnerving, though Callum was slowly getting used to it. "I'll stay with you. In case of misunderstanding."
Oh. "You mean in case your pack shows up here to rip my throat out." Callum didn't really need to see Nero's nod, he knew it was the truth. "Fine. But ... I'm not sleeping with you."
That stare again. "There is only one bed," Nero said, as if explaining it to someone very stupid. "No armchair for you to break your spine in this time."
"No, I mean," and Callum made a probably-unhelpful gesture. "I'll sleep with you, but no, you know." Nero just raised an eyebrow, and Callum felt his face heat with embarrassment. "No," he tried to think of a word that wasn't 'hanky-panky', Who even says that? "No sex. All right?"
"Your virtue is safe," Nero told him, very solemn, but Callum could tell that somewhere beneath his broody exterior Nero was laughing at him.
Nero left his jeans on, but hung his shirt over the back of a chair. Under it he was all smooth brown skin over lean muscle, old scars like slashes of dark lipstick against his ribs. He didn't seem self-conscious at all, just unbuckled his belt and drew it out, pulling back the covers and climbing under them. He looked up, expectantly.
Callum's mouth had gone dry just watching. "Uh," he said, helpfully, and then he gave up, turned off the light like a coward and undressed in the dark. Nero made a noise that could have been a snort of laughter. Callum thought it probably was.
Chapter 5
When he woke, Callum was pressed up against something deliciously warm. He snuggled into it, still in a half-asleep daze, felt it shift to accommodate him and pull him in. Fuck. It was good. It's Nero, his brain helpfully supplied, but he casually ignored it. Someone was snuggling him. Someone who smelled good. This didn't happen often enough for Callum to be picky ab– oh god it was Nero.
Callum tried not to move, but he must have done something because Nero hummed, low down in his throat, a dark, friendly sort of growl. At least, Callum hoped it was friendly. It sounded ... not ominous. The opposite. Soothing.
Nero shifted, tucking his face into Callum's hair and ... yeah, inhaling. Scenting him again. Such a, a fucking wolf thing to do. And then there was a hand, running up Callum' back, the fingers smoothing firm over the muscles there, kneading them in slow circles until Callum thought he might groan out loud.
He let go of a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, and opened his eyes. "Morning," he croaked, and then he had to clear his throat. "Um."
Nero rolled back a little, his hair spilled like black ink on the pillowcase. There was a lick of white in it, a thin strip of silver in the shadow of his bangs. Callum wondered if he bleached it.
"Good morning." Nero blinked sleepily, and then he nuzzled Callum's temple. "You slept better."
"Hm?" Callum swallowed, tried to concentrate. The nuzzling was doing things to him, making it even harder for his sleep-addled brain to think straight. And he didn't really want to think straight, not just now. Nero's hand on his back felt good. Nero was warm, and he smelled like ... something. Warm goodness. Spicy and ... good. Yeah, Callum's brain had clearly given up on him.
"Than in the chair. Better with me." And he tightened his hold for a moment before letting go.
"You c
an tell that from sniffing me?"
There, that was definitely a chuckle. "No. Your breathing seemed more ... deeper. Content. It was shallow, before."
"Mmm, good." One of Callum's hands was flat up against Nero's sternum. He was smooth, mostly, with a scattering of black hair across his chest. Callum found his fingers sliding through it, his hand skating over the ridges of muscle that ran down to Nero's belly. "Don't smell me. I bet I smell terrible."
"Not to me." Nero sounded surprisingly sincere. Callum realised that he always had, and remembered how it had angered him when Callum doubted his word. When I basically called him a liar. "You smell like yourself. And like me." One side of his mouth twitched up. "I would make you smell more like me, but ..."
"But?"
Nero didn't answer, just ducked his head to nuzzle Callum's cheek. And then his mouth caught the corner of Callum's, and Callum tilted his head to be kissed and it was ... sweet, really. Warm and sweet, and Callum tried not to think about how bad his mouth must taste but couldn't really taste Nero's either so that was okay. Nero kissed like he meant it, like he wanted to kiss Callum in particular, as if it meant something. Which it couldn't, of course, but it was easy to forget that just now. Nero kissed him in stages, first almost tentative, feeling him out, then firmly, pushing his tongue into Callum's mouth and sucking Callum's lip as though it was delicious. And finally, he teased, leaning in and then pulling away to make Callum chase him. The last seemed to amuse him; he hummed, nipped Callum's lip with his teeth and just grinned at him.
"Don't," Callum protested, one hand curling around the back of Nero's neck to hold him still. "No, just," and he craned his neck, trying to catch that mouth.
Nero blinked, lashes like wet black feathers against his cheekbones, and then kissed him again, and now he didn't tease at all. He rolled Callum onto his back, coming up between his thighs, and held him down by the wrists against the pillows, kissing him firmly. His whole body curled into it as if it were important, as if it meant not just something but everything. Callum made an embarrassing noise that was smothered by Nero's mouth, and his hips jerked up, and fuck, he could feel Nero hard against his hip and knew that Nero could feel him too.
