Camwolf

by JL Merrow

  Julian shrugged, one-shouldered. “It just means you were both dominants. Both alphas. And both of you unused to the presence of other wolves. It was natural that you would fight. Where were you?”

  It was an intelligent question. “At his cottage—on his territory, I suppose you’d say. I guess that’s why he wouldn’t back down. Why he fought on so long,” he added a little shakily.

  Julian gave a strange smile. “And you won.”

  “I suppose I did. I assure you I took no pleasure in having practically ripped my ex-lover’s throat out.” Nick still wasn’t sure what he’d have done if Carl had died. And he was damned sure he didn’t want to think about it now. He’d been thinking a lot about the existence of wolf packs since Julian’s revelation. About how individual wolves filled different roles within a rather rigid framework—at least, if what he’d read about true wolves was anything to go by. “And what about you?” he asked, tensing in anticipation of the answer. “I mean, you don’t seem….”

  Julian gave a bitter smile, not looking at him. “I’m not a dominant. I’m what is sometimes known as an omega. The lowest of the low. I should have thought you’d have worked that out by now.”

  “So… we would be safe, together?”

  Julian gave a jerky little movement that would undoubtedly have spilled his coffee, had he still been holding it. “I would obey you.”

  Nick took a deep breath, feeling arousal spread through him at Julian’s words. Julian would obey him, would do anything he wanted. He found he was clenching his fists, trying to fight the feelings down. This was… not right. And the fact that Julian was so matter-of-fact about it only made things worse.

  “You had to obey the other wolves in your father’s pack?”

  Julian seemed smaller, somehow, as he answered. “Yes.” It was barely more than a whisper.

  “I would never expect that of you!” Nick told him fiercely.

  Julian looked him directly in the eye, just for a moment. Anger welled within Nick, until Julian’s gaze fell once more. “Yes, you would,” Julian said calmly. “It’s all right. I trust you.”

  Nick was staggered by that simple statement. “Then… perhaps we could change together sometime?”

  Julian nodded. “I can’t tonight. But tomorrow? You could show me where you go when you change.” He sounded eager.

  Nick fought to keep his own tone level. “All right. Tomorrow.”

  THAT EVENING, Nick looked out of his window over Main Court. He knew he was only putting things off. Julian had said he could change whenever he wanted to. So Nick should be able to do so as well. Should he try it here? In his rooms? But what if he couldn’t change back? What if he got stuck as a wolf until the next full moon?

  Get a grip, Sewell, he told himself, disgusted at his own cowardice. If you can do it one way, you can do it the other. Feeling a little foolish, he checked the door was locked, pulled the curtains, and took off his clothes. Standing there naked, looking at his desk covered in third-year essays, he felt even more absurd. And how the hell was he supposed to accomplish this in any case? When he changed at the full moon, it just happened. It was beyond his control. And the pain—dear God, the pain. Why the hell would anyone invite that sort of agony? It was ridiculous, and unnecessary.

  And he was being a coward again. Nick forced himself to calm down, and tried to—what? Think hairy? He got down on all fours and tried to imagine his limbs changing, face lengthening.

  Nothing.

  “Damn it!” he swore under his breath and pulled his clothes back on angrily.

  TIFF TRUDGED up the last flight of stairs to Julian’s room, breathing hard. Maybe she ought to start going to the gym. On the other hand, maybe that’d just make her feel even more knackered. Julian had better bloody well be in after all this. She knocked on the door, and almost immediately there was a reassuring cry of “Come in!” rather than a curt “Yes!” That usually meant Jools was in a good mood.

  He was sitting at his desk as she walked in.

  “So, are you going out with Dr. Sewell now?” Tiff came straight out with it as she closed Julian’s door behind her.

  Julian looked up at her and smirked. Annoying git. “No. But I will be.”

  “Oh, yeah? So I suppose this means you’re not confused by him anymore?”

  Julian seemed to decide on honesty, for now. “Not really. He’s strange, but he’s a good man.” He gave a sigh. “That’s why I’m not going out with him yet. He thinks he’ll corrupt me.” He grinned at Tiff’s involuntary burst of laughter.

  “I thought you said he’d seen you with your mouth round another bloke’s bits?”

  Julian pushed back his chair, smiling. “He’s in denial. For now. Are you going to put the kettle on?”

  Tiff plonked herself down heavily on the bed. It creaked a bit. “No, but you are. I’m knackered after dragging myself up all those bloody stairs. God, I’d hate to live here.”

  “It’d be good for you,” Julian teased. “Keep you fit. How else do you think I stay so slim?” He did a little twirl as he went over to the kettle.

  Tiff frowned at his back. Was he saying he thought she ought to lose weight? Size twelve wasn’t fat, though, was it?

  “Biscuit?” Julian asked without turning. “I’ve got chocolate chip cookies.”

  Tiff gave a resigned sigh. “Not for me, thanks.”

  Chapter Eight

  CHECKING THROUGH his pigeonhole early in the morning, Nick found a sealed envelope that was addressed in loopy German script. He tore it open to find a short note. Heute Abend? Um 9? It was signed with a J. Rather superfluously, Nick thought; after all, who else would be arranging assignations with him in German?

  As it happened that this evening at nine o’clock would suit him rather well, Nick folded the note and wrote Einverstanden on it before placing it furtively in Julian’s pigeonhole. He jumped as a couple of students burst into the room a moment later. God, he’d make a bloody awful spy. Even more so, he realized, as it occurred to him that they had a time for a meeting but not a place. Why the hell hadn’t they exchanged mobile numbers? Pretending to read a circular from the University Library with great interest, Nick waited until the students had left before retrieving the note and adding a quick direction to meet him at his car in the car park. Not a good idea to have Julian turning up at his rooms all the time. People might get the wrong impression.

  Or worse, the right one.

  THAT EVENING, Nick sat in the Mini Cooper, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited in the dark for Julian to turn up. He wondered if he should mention his humiliating failure to transform by himself, then dismissed the idea. Julian looked up to him. It wouldn’t do to appear weak.

  He jumped as the door opened, and Julian slid into the passenger seat. “Have you been waiting long?” he asked with a shy smile.

  “No, not at all,” Nick lied. “Did you have trouble getting away?”

  “Not particularly.” Julian hesitated. “There were some people I know, and I wasn’t sure if you would want anyone to know I was meeting you.”

  Nick didn’t quite know how to answer that. “Probably best not to arouse any suspicion,” he said at last. “Anyway, we’d better be off now.”

  Nick drove without speaking, grateful that Julian didn’t try to make conversation either. Tension coiled in his gut like a restless tapeworm, eating away at him from inside. Assuming that he did manage to make the change, and it wasn’t just a hideous embarrassment, what if it was just a repeat of that first time with Carl? If Julian’s wolf form bore any correlation to his human shape, he’d be half Nick’s size. Nick would eat him alive. Quite possibly literally.

  Julian seemed fascinated by the view from the car window. Of course, many students never made it out of Cambridge during term time—at least, no farther than they could punt along the river toward Grantchester. Hardly any of the students had cars, for the simple reason that there was nowhere to put the things. It was just as well. Traffic
in town was bad enough as it was—Nick hated to think what it’d be like with twelve thousand extra cars on the narrow streets.

  They passed by the railway station, then a spectacularly ugly new housing development, and after that it was green fields as far as the eye could see. Which was a considerable distance; the topography of East Anglia as a rule bore a close resemblance to a pancake. As they drove farther, however, the Gog Magog Hills appeared to break the visual monotony—and all too soon, they were there.

  Nick fought to control the bile rising up in his throat as he pulled off the lane and into the clearing. Jerking the hand brake on rather harder than necessary, he switched off the engine.

  “It’ll be all right,” Julian said softly.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Better than you do,” Julian told him, but the tone held no arrogance.

  They got out of the car, and Julian looked around at the woodland, seeming to approve. Nick felt absurdly relieved—almost as if this were some kind of date. It was quiet there, the rush of traffic from the main road only a murmur, and the smell of damp earth and intriguing small creatures rose to meet Nick’s nostrils, calming him with its familiarity.

  “What is this place?” Julian asked.

  “It’s called the Godolphin Estate. An old country manor, built on top of an Iron Age hill fort, but it’s all gone to wrack and ruin now.” Nick couldn’t keep the disapproval out of his voice at such wanton disregard of historical relics. “You can still see the remains of the fort—there’s a huge ring-shaped ditch in the middle of the woodlands.”

  Julian nodded and with a complete lack of self-consciousness, stripped, slinging his discarded clothes through the open door of the Mini Cooper. His skin was blue-tinged by the moonlight as long limbs were revealed. Nick’s heart beat faster and his breath quickened. Julian looked like some spirit of the forest, all slender lines and pale, perfect skin. Nick couldn’t stop his gaze running down Julian’s lean chest to the trim waist and beyond. Silvery curls surrounded the most beautiful cock he’d ever seen, and Nick drank in the view as it rose, as if resisting the force of his gaze. An answering pressure filled his own groin and he took an involuntary step forward.

  All at once Julian’s form shifted. Confusing in its swiftness, the body he was scrutinizing so eagerly seemed to twist, to writhe, but there was no convulsing in agony, and Julian didn’t even whimper as he became a wolf.

  He was beautiful. Still slender, Julian’s wolf form seemed half-grown, his fur shimmering in the moonlight. He trotted over to Nick and gave him a cautious sniff. Nick was appalled to realize he was still hard, aroused by Julian even in this form. For a moment he thought Julian was about to lick him—intimately.

  Nick drew a deep, shuddering breath—and suddenly Julian was human again, smiling at him with mischief in his eyes, and the proximity was too much for Nick. He grabbed Julian’s hips and pulled him close. Julian moaned and seemed to melt against him, his cock hot and rigid against Nick’s groin. Incensed by the barrier of his clothes, Nick let go of Julian and tore off his shirt, tossing it heedlessly to the ground. Pale, delicate fingers were already undoing his trousers, pushing them past his hips. Nick slammed Julian’s body back against his own, letting out a hoarse cry as flesh met flesh. It was glorious—but it wasn’t enough.

  Dimly recognizing he was gripping Julian far too hard, that he would bruise, Nick slammed him back against the side of the Mini Cooper. He pulled Julian into a savage kiss, all tongues and teeth. The taste of him was intoxicating. Nick had never felt such hunger, such need. He frotted feverishly against Julian—and then a slender hand crept between them and wrapped round both their cocks, working them together. Nick knew he was groaning into Julian’s mouth, but was utterly unable to stop himself. He’d never felt anything so intense, so wonderful it was almost painful. Julian was his, would always be his. He’d kill anyone who tried to take him away.

  He could taste blood in his mouth where a tooth had raked skin. Nick tore his lips from Julian’s, dropped his mouth to the curve of Julian’s neck, and bit down savagely. The metallic flavor of blood flooding his mouth seemed to send a signal straight to his groin and he came, shuddering, aware of Julian convulsing too.

  As his vision cleared and his breathing slowed, Nick was disturbed to feel only mild horror at what he’d done. He’d had sex with a student. Damn it, he’d bitten him. But it was hard to feel so very appalled when the hormones were still coursing through his veins and Julian was standing there with that fey smile upon his face.

  “I knew it’d be good with you,” Julian murmured happily.

  Feeling a sudden rush of anger, Nick thrust Julian from him. “This is not what we came here for.”

  Julian stared at him silently for one long moment, then dropped his eyes. “Then change,” he said petulantly.

  Nick felt like an idiot. “I don’t know how!” he admitted angrily, stepping out of his trousers and trying to ignore their mingled semen coating his stomach.

  There was another pause, and then Julian’s voice came again, much softer this time. “You have to concentrate on the moon. Feel its power. Surrender to it.” His face was shining in the half-light.

  Surrender. Nick should have known. He gazed upward at the gibbous moon that crested the treetops and tried to imagine it as full, tried to open himself to its power.

  “It’s not far from full, still. Let it pull you into your inner form,” Julian whispered from a long way away.

  Nick’s eyes didn’t waver from that pale cold light. He thought he could feel a tug in his chest, his bowels. Surrender. His naked skin seemed to tingle as the moonlight bathed it. Let it pull you. His inner form? Was that what he was, now? A wolf in man’s clothing?

  Nick took a deep breath and tried to banish his misgivings. Surrender. It had been so easy for Julian—surely if he could do this, so could Nick?

  And this time, it seemed to happen quite suddenly. He could feel the wrenching in his face, his limbs, and he forced himself not to fight it. He allowed his body to rearrange itself, to reform—and was astonished to find the change rushing upon him with the force of his earlier orgasm. It wasn’t pleasure, precisely, but neither was it the searing pain of every other transformation.

  Nick stood there on all fours, panting. He was wolf.

  And there before him stood the Julian-wolf, back arched, eyes lowered. Nick felt giddy in his sense of rightness. This was his wolf, his pack, submitting to him as was proper. He howled his approval to the moon. The Julian-wolf watched him—and then jumped away playfully. Nick growled in mock disapproval, a wonderful lightness in his chest.

  The smaller wolf grinned at him for a moment, then darted into the forest. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Nick followed. They sprang through the trees in a swift slalom, not bothering with stealth—chasing rabbits could wait. Another wolf was a far worthier prey, even if it was all in sport. Julian’s slender form was as agile as a gazelle, and Nick had to work in earnest to keep up with him.

  He had a feeling Julian knew it. Nick’s eyes narrowed. Perhaps the smaller wolf needed a lesson in who was alpha here.

  He got his revenge when, without warning, they arrived at the Ring. Julian yelped as his paws skittered on the steep slopes that led down to the ancient ditch, and he barely escaped the ignominy of sliding down on his rump. Laughing inside, Nick followed at a more cautious pace. Julian growled at him, presumably for the lack of warning—and then cowered at Nick’s answering growl. Good humor entirely restored, Nick jerked his head at the younger wolf and set off along the ditch.

  Julian was quick to catch on and sped along beside him. The Ring could have been tailor-made for two wolves racing along beside each other—and since the trees had not yet spread over it, was a clear racetrack. Here, Nick’s more powerful muscles came into their own. He outstripped Julian easily, his legs working and his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. Running as a wolf was nothing like running as a human—at times like this, Nick
wondered that he could ever accept that pale imitation, tottering about on two legs, his upper limbs almost useless. Transformed, his whole body was a machine built for speed, working with perfect efficiency. Had he the breath to spare, Nick would have howled his joy to the skies.

  He stopped when he reached the break in the Ring. There was a path there that led to a grassy central clearing that was practically an all-you-can-eat buffet for a wolf—provided the wolf didn’t mind a fairly monotonous diet of rabbit, rabbit, or rabbit. Nick waited for Julian to catch up and led the way to the center of the Ring, his priority now stealth, not speed.

  Julian followed his lead, and together they slunk through the trees, bellies low. As expected, the clearing—presumably once some kind of garden feature—was teeming with furry bodies nibbling moronically at the grass. Feeling a not-really-deserved but nonetheless real pride in the provision of this bunny buffet, Nick held back, allowing Julian the first kill.

  Like lightning, the pale wolf darted into the clearing and seized a rabbit in his jaws. At the sight of its blood, Nick could hold back no more and leaped after its fleeing, terrified cousins.

  The first taste was always the sweetest.

  THE WARMTH of Nick’s front contrasted sharply with the chill of the rest of him as he woke up the next morning to find himself lying naked in the bracken, curled protectively around an equally nude Julian.