by Zoe Perdita
What the hell was wrong with him?
Letting some strange shifter crash at his place. That was all kinds of fucked in the head.
Well, he’d deal with it tomorrow and hope Quinn didn’t jump off the balcony while Tyler slept.
3
Quinn sat on the couch in the darkness for a long moment. That wolf turned out the light before he went into the bedroom, so the dim reddish glow from the windows was all Quinn had to see by. His nocturnal vision wasn’t very powerful, all things considered.
He’d looked around the room when he first entered. It was nothing like the prison he was used to – there were no antiques for one thing. All the furniture served a purpose and looked new and simple. His body sunk into the couch comfortably, and no springs stabbed him in the back the way they did on the ancient couches in the Montgomery estate.
The wolf’s scent clung to everything in the apartment, and Quinn wanted to move around and explore, but if he did there were unknown rules he might break. Bounds he might overstep, and after what that alpha did to those humans, Quinn knew Tyler was more than able to inflict all sorts of pain on people who wronged him.
A shiver shot up Quinn’s back.
He never imagined a real wolf would be that powerful. Shifters were, according to books in the Montgomery library, the weakest of the shadow folk. But Tyler looked more powerful than Bradley, though that was a different kind of power.
Still.
Power was power, and at least one shifter besides his own kind had more than Quinn ever expected.
In truth, the night hadn’t gone as Quinn planned.
He thought, when he stretched the bounds of the magic that chained him to its very limit, he might be able to find the release he’d sought for so long. A member of the shadow folk who could help him, or as a last case scenario, the sweet release of death.
Self-harm was against the rules. Quinn knew that – he’d tried it so many times that if he weren’t able to heal so quickly he’d have a legion of scars to show for it. Razors slipped off his wrists like he was made of titanium, and if he purposefully jumped from a height that would kill a normal non-enchanted shifter, he’d safely land on the ground without a clue how it happened.
That’s why he didn’t bother actually jumping into the Columbia River. He’d probably float to the surface – or walk across it and have humans believe he was something very different than what he really was.
But the last thing Quinn expected was the alpha from the club – the one with brown hair and bright blue tips and all those pictures on his arms, to show up at the very moment Quinn’s wish almost came true. Quinn’s fingers itched to touch the skin that held them. They must’ve told a wonderful story, but he couldn’t understand it with the flashing lights and the constant movement of the crowd.
The ring in Tyler’s lip was equally fascinating. Perhaps it was a way wolves announced rank – Quinn didn’t know. But he wouldn’t have minded touching that either, with his fingers or his mouth.
Tyler probably tasted as good as he smelled.
They didn’t get to dance long enough, and Tyler’s musk was all things powerful and rich with a hint of tobacco at the end – the exact opposite of how any Montgomery smelled, like scorched magic and rotting flesh. Dead things, though Bradley wasn’t a necromancer – he was something worse.
After the dance, Quinn slipped into the cold night air and found just the right humans to help him complete his journey, but that alpha rounded the corner and saved him.
Now he was here, and the rustle of sheets told him Tyler probably crawled into bed. Slowly, Quinn rose and looked out the window. In the distance, a few cars rolled over the bridge into downtown Haven. The city was so much different than Quinn remembered. Even if he hadn’t gotten what he wanted, it was worth it.
He’d met an alpha—a wolf who saved him.
No one ever did anything that selfless in Quinn’s experience. That had to mean something. For one, it meant this alpha was kind to strangers. For another, his dark eyes hadn’t glazed over with that look people got when they fell under Quinn’s allure, so Tyler’s actions were genuine and not out of pure lust or the lingering magic that surrounded Quinn’s kind.
Finally, the most important part, was the air of desperation that clung to the alpha. The animal paced and snarled, but it also whined. It needed recognition, and Quinn could fulfill that need if Tyler agreed to help.
His side ached dully, but the rest of the bruises were nothing but a slight discomfort. He waited until he heard Tyler’s breathing deepen on the other side of the door before he moved.
Silently, he crept into the bedroom and squinted his eyes in the dim light. Tyler was curled on his side with only a thin sheet covering him, and he’d been much too kind by offering Quinn his jacket on the walk there.
He could be even kinder by offering to free Quinn, if only Quinn could find a way to explain the problem properly. And keep Tyler from agreeing with everyone who thought Quinn was crazy.
Quinn set the blanket over Tyler carefully, then settled on the floor at the foot of the bed with a wistful smile on his face. He fell asleep as soon as his eyes shut, and for once he wasn’t afraid what he’d find when he woke.
A crash startled Quinn from his sleep. He blinked at Tyler, who loomed over him, brows drawn and fangs bared.
“What the fuck? I told you to sleep on the couch. With the blanket,” Tyler said and put his hands on his hips. He was naked, and the pictures that covered his arms wound over his chest – which was sculpted and tight and looked stronger than Quinn’s own. A large swath of color curled up his hip and continued down his right leg. His cock hung dead center, nestled in dark neatly groomed hair.
Quinn rubbed his eyes. “You sounded cold.”
“I sounded cold? I don’t even know what that means. Shit. Get in bed and sleep. I’m gonna shower. Don’t come lay on the floor in the bathroom. You’re not a dog.”
Tyler’s cheeks turned pink as he stepped out of the room, and Quinn watched the muscles in his ass tense as he walked away. It’d be nice to follow – take another shower – but Quinn did as he was told and climbed into the bed instead.
If he didn’t, Tyler might break all his teeth like he’d done to that human. And Quinn liked his teeth.
The bed smelled of nothing but Tyler’s musk, and that was fine with him. Not only was Tyler stronger than Quinn was led to believe; he was kinder too.
Quinn must’ve drifted off again, with the warmth of the mattress and the blanket surrounding him, because the next thing he knew, Tyler stood in the room, naked and wet this time.
Even better.
Tyler draped a small hand towel around his shoulders as he yanked a shirt out of his closet and tugged on a pair of boxers – which was a damn shame, and Quinn sighed at the sight of the black cotton slipping over the bare flesh, taut and colorful.
“I like you better naked,” Quinn said and sat up. He stretched his arms over his head and arched his back.
Tyler watched him, his dark eyes completely unreadable and his mouth set into a line. His wet dark hair clung to his forehead and the shaved sides of his head, and Quinn wondered what it felt like. Was it as soft as his own? Different? Would the alpha snap his fingers off if he tried to find out?
“Do you like eggs?” Tyler asked.
Quinn wrinkled his nose. “No. Oatmeal is good. Or cold cereal.”
Tyler nodded and moved out of the room.
“Should I follow you?” Quinn asked and moved to the edge of the bed. The answer was probably ‘yes,’ but it was always best to make sure.
“Well, I’m not bringing you breakfast in bed,” Tyler called. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Quinn didn’t know how to answer that without breaking all kinds of rules, so he didn’t say anything. A shrug sufficed, but he wasn’t even certain if Tyler saw him do it.
The wolf had several colorful boxes that he placed on the counter with a jug of milk. “Take your pick,�
� he said and poured himself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.
They didn’t look anything like real pebbles or real fruit, but if Tyler liked it they probably weren’t going to kill Quinn.
“I usually only have Shredded Wheat,” Quinn said and filled a bowl for himself.
“Are you some kind of health freak?” Tyler asked and licked a drop of milk from his bottom lip. The ring moved. It looked silver, but it obviously wasn’t actual silver since that was deadly to all shifters, even the rare few of Quinn’s kind who remained.
“Just an herbivore. And this is amazing,” Quinn said and scooped the colored bits into his mouth. “What kind of fruit is it supposed to be?”
Tyler stared at him, his lips sunk into a frown, though Quinn had no clue what he’d done wrong. Did wolves not like to be asked about fruit? “Are you going to tell me what the fuck you are or not?”
Quinn almost said ‘or not,’ but the way Tyler’s fingers gripped his bowl as he drank the colorful milk changed Quinn’s mind. Instead, Quinn finished his breakfast and wiped his lips before he answered.
Then he grasped the thin chain that hung around his neck. It was as thick as a single strand of hair, but it was so strong nothing could break it – well, nothing that Quinn had tried anyway. Normal humans couldn’t even see it, and from Quinn’s experience, shadow folk couldn’t either.
“I—it’s complicated,” Quinn said carefully and took a shallow breath. No pain accompanied that declaration. Good. He hadn’t broken a rule.
Yet.
Tyler raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Yeah, being a rabbit shifter is embarrassing, but you don’t have to lie about it. What’s that?” he asked and reached forward. His fingers were slightly calloused. They scraped the skin along Quinn’s collarbone and grabbed the chain.
Quinn forgot how to breathe, and his heart stopped for a brief moment. “You can see it?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s right here. Are you sure you’re not really fucking high? Did you lick a colorful piece of paper a stranger gave you last night? Drop acid. Eat shrooms? Take X? For fuck’s sake, you’re a freak.”
His hand tangled in the chain, and Quinn stared at him, willing him to snap it. If he was strong enough to notice it, maybe he could break it.
Wouldn’t that be something?
“Take it off,” Quinn breathed.
Tyler narrowed his eyes. “You want me to break it?”
Quinn nodded, afraid to speak. The words might not come out properly. He’d never had the chance to test that – to see if he could ask someone to remove it.
Tyler swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bumped under his skin.
Quinn stood so close he made out the individual hairs on Tyler’s cheeks, brown and somewhere between a beard and stubble. His warm brown eyes caught the light and reflected bits of amber from the very center.
“Please,” Quinn said.
Tyler yanked and the chain caught on the back of Quinn’s neck, digging into the flesh.
It didn’t break.
No rush of freedom overwhelmed him – the spell held.
The choking disappointment welled up inside Quinn’s chest and stung his eyes.
“What the hell is this made of?” Tyler asked and let go.
Quinn forced himself to smile and let out a bark of laughter that sounded bitter. He didn’t want to be bitter, but his true nature came out when he least willed it. “Magic. That’s all I can say. But if you can see it, maybe you can—ah! Thank you for trying.”
“So you’re a rabbit shifter with a magic necklace that you can’t remove because, let me guess, you can’t fucking tell me?” Tyler asked and grabbed their dishes. He piled them into the sink and ran water over them.
“Sort of. I’m not a rabbit shifter, but I can’t tell you what I am. I know. No one believes me most of the time, but you’re an alpha. I never knew shifters like you existed. It’s amazing, really.”
Tyler turned and crossed his arms. The look on his face reminded Quinn of Bradley’s expression when Quinn said he heard the moon whispering to him late at night. That incredulous expression that meant Bradley thought Quinn was trying to trick him. Or the way Dr. Ross looked when Quinn mentioned anything to do with magic – like he was insane and everything they thought about him was true.
“I’m just a wolf. No big deal. Do you live in some weird cult and that’s what’s wrong with you?”
“No. Not a cult,” Quinn said and stepped forward. He’d been naked since he woke up, and Tyler hadn’t complained once or told him to put the towel back around his waist. And while Tyler might think Quinn was crazy, he did cast several long glances at Quinn’s cock, and he could see the necklace.
That had to mean something, didn’t it?
“Did you grow up in a cave or some shit?”
Quinn shook his head as he padded over the cool linoleum floor. “I live in a large house with a lake behind it. I’ve been secluded for a long time, and if I could just. . . . Shit!” Though the necklace looked like it hung loose over his skin, it actually constricted his throat and kept the words – the plea – buried deep inside.
Tyler frowned and stood up straight.
Suddenly, footsteps pounded up the stairs toward them, steady and clipped. The sickening stench touched Quinn’s nose, and he grabbed Tyler by the shoulders and pulled him close.
Even if the wolf tried to pummel him now, it’d be better than leaving without doing this – living with the regret of ‘what-if’ the rest of his life.
Tyler stared at him, and Quinn leaned in and pressed their lips together gently. A jolt of passion settled in his groin and shot up his back at the contact. After a moment, Tyler’s mouth eased open and strong hands gripped Quinn’s biceps.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
A knock at the door.
Quinn jumped at the sound, but he wouldn’t have moved if the tug of the necklace didn’t urge him to step back.
“What the fuck was that?” Tyler breathed and licked his lips.
“A thank you,” Quinn said quickly. “I need my pants, and I need you to. . . to please. . . look. . . find. . . do what you did for me last night. With those humans. Do that again. If you can. Please,” Quinn said and picked up his pants from a pile outside the bathroom door. He slipped them over his hips and shoved his feet back into the tennis shoes.
Tyler watched him carefully and turned toward the door. “Is this for you?”
Quinn nodded. “But they’re going to . . . lies. It’s all—ahh!” The pain cut him off – a sharp shock that twisted his insides enough to keep the words at bay.
“Quinn. We know you’re in there,” a man’s voice called from the other side of the door. A voice Quinn knew all too well. Dr. Ross.
Bradley couldn’t even come alone.
Quinn swallowed and stood up straight, chest heaving. He wasn’t going to face them bent over and groveling. He’d never do that. “Don’t believe them.”
“Why don’t I just tell them to fuck off?” Tyler asked and furrowed his brow.
Quinn shook his head. “If you don’t open it, I’ll have to.”
Tyler let out a snort and undid the three locks as Dr. Ross pounded on the door again. When it swung open, the man stood there with his hand balled into a fist. He was about a head shorter than Tyler.
Dr. Ross’s eyes locked on Tyler, and Quinn watched the man fight to control his expression. He smiled at the idea that Tyler made the good doctor uncomfortable.
Bradley Montgomery loomed behind Dr. Ross, and he was closer to Tyler’s height, though not muscular or good-looking. Tyler was gorgeous – his jaw sharp and his lips just shy of full. His eyes leaned toward the suspicious side, but it suited him.
Quinn still tasted him, and would’ve kissed Tyler again if not for the doctor and his prison warden standing right there.
If it hadn’t been for Bradley’s surname or the power he wielded (most of it stolen from Quinn), no one would’ve given him a second glance
. His face was gaunt and horse-like, with short brown hair cut above his ears and a neat beard that almost completely overwhelmed his cruel mouth.
“Who the fuck are you, and what the hell is this about?” Tyler growled and held the door open a few inches. He leaned one powerful arm on the edge of the doorframe, and the muscles in his back flexed with the movement, noticeable even under his snug T-shirt.
“I’m Dr. Irvin Ross, and this is Bradley Montgomery. We’re here for Quinn Winters. He wandered away during a therapy appointment yesterday, and we tracked him to this address,” Dr. Ross said and pursed his lips into a line.
Since Tyler was a wolf, Quinn knew he smelled the stink of Bradley’s magic, but he had no idea what Tyler might do about it. No shifter ever faced down Bradley before, well, not in front of Quinn anyway.
“Really? He escaped a therapy appointment? Maybe he needs a new therapist. And how in the ever-loving fuck did you decide he was here?” Tyler asked, his voice low and dangerous.
While the doctor stumbled for an answer, Tyler pulled out a cigarette from the pack on the side table and put it between his lips. He lit it and inhaled deeply.
Bradley frowned, but it wasn’t as if he could admit the necklace was traceable with magic since the doctor was just a normal human. Once he got Quinn out of there, Quinn knew he’d be punished for this offense, but it was worth it.
“His cell phone,” Dr. Ross finally said.
Tyler blew a puff of smoke in the little man’s face. “He doesn’t have a cell phone, asshole.”
“You don't know what you’re dealing with,” Bradley interjected, and Quinn felt icy fingers incase his heart and squeeze. “Tell him, doctor.”
Dr. Ross straightened his ugly paisley tie and thrust back his shoulders. “That man you’re harboring is sick. He’s delusional and suicidal and he needs help. I’m his doctor, and I think I know him better than some punk who dragged him home after one night.”
Tyler tilted his head in Quinn’s direction, and a smile slipped over his lips. No, not a smile – a sneer.
