by Riley Rivers
Cameron exhaled slowly, finally letting his fingers relax from their death-grip on the comforter. He had no fucking idea what being a werewolf entailed, but he also knew he wasn’t up to getting a list of pros and cons. He either got bitten and got turned or whatever and lived with it—
Or he didn’t live.
And really, it wasn’t much of a choice, was it?
“Okay,” he said, doing his best to not let his voice shake. “I’ll do it.”
Ezra’s quiet exhale was just audible. “Are you sure?”
“No! No, I’m not!” Cameron shoved his face into his hands. “But it’s either die or become a fucking werewolf apparently.”
There was a gentle touch to his back. “Cameron.”
Cameron peered up.
“You won’t be alone,” Ezra promised. “Whatever happens, I won’t let you be alone.”
Cameron’s own exhale was shaky and more than a little wet. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.”
***
While Cameron waited for Ezra to come back to the guest bedroom, he took the opportunity to wiggle into a pair of boxers and a hoodie. He didn’t bother with pants because… because he was getting bitten on the thigh.
“You’re all skin and bone,” Ezra had said matter-of-factly—and just a touch disapprovingly. “A bite where you have a least some padding will hurt less.”
That little comment hadn’t exactly made Cameron feel great, even as someone who didn’t think about his body that much because why bother as long as it kept him going. But there wasn’t a reason to doubt Ezra’s words, so… thigh bite it was. Kinky.
Fucking idiot, stop it.
His throat was so dry and he wanted to drink something, but the thought of water still made him lock up so that wasn’t happening anytime soon. Or maybe it was, if this werewolf thing worked.
Fuck, he was going to turn into a fucking werewolf. Or die. Either-or.
When Ezra knocked on the door, Cameron was huddled in one corner of the bed trying to breathe, and Ezra had to knock a second time before Cameron registered it.
“You can come in.”
The door opened, and in walked Ezra carrying a pile of stuff in his arms, which he unloaded onto the bed. Several towels, antiseptic spray, cotton pads, a roll of bandages, scissors, medical tape, a couple of water bottles—
Cameron whimpered and turned away, covering his eyes. Hydrophobia was a thing, god. Fuck.
“You can look,” Ezra said quietly. “I put them away.”
Cameron knew better than to ask where Ezra had put the bottles, because he knew it’d just make him more paranoid. “Okay.”
Ezra spread the towels out on the foot of the bed, and Cameron realized they were probably to keep him from bleeding on the comforter. He took another few gulps of air.
“Are you ready?” Ezra asked. He’d put his pants back on to go collect things, but hadn’t bothered with his sweater. He was trim and muscular underneath the sweaters he preferred, and Cameron allowed himself the indulgence of looking at his bare chest and stomach before he reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to be doing that.
Then again, what would it matter in a few minutes, depending on what happened, right? “Y-yeah.”
“Alright.” Ezra directed Cameron to lie down on top of the towels. “I’m right here, okay? It’s just me.”
“Just you,” Cameron repeated. Just you but also a wolf.
“It’ll hurt, but I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to take care of you, Cameron. Don’t worry.”
Cameron swallowed, gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Right. Okay.”
There was the rustling of fabric and a whisper of noise, and then something cold was pressing against his right hand.
Cameron made himself look, something seizing in him to see that yeah, the brown wolf was back. Ezra-as-a-wolf was standing right next to the bed, clearing it standing with no trouble. Cameron’s breath died in his throat.
“Right,” he said hoarsely. “Right, okay, it’s just you. It’s just you.”
Ezra pressed his nose into Cameron’s hand again. Unsure of what else to do, Cameron patted him on the head, eyes wide with disbelief.
Ezra let out a soft wuff and his tail wagged.
Cameron choked on a laugh. “Right. Okay. Okay. God, fuck, okay.”
Ezra blinked at him, then moved to nose at Cameron’s leg, just underneath the hem of his boxers. Cameron swallowed again and hiked up the hem, fully exposing his thigh. He was doing this. He was really going to do this. This was really happening.
He grabbed his belt and shoved the leather into his mouth, as Ezra had suggested, squeezing his eyes shut, unable to stop his trembling.
Then pain.
***
His leg was on fire, but the rest of his body was also too hot, too hot. The worst of the heat was concentrated in his left arm which burned so fiercely that tears started streaming down Cameron’s cheeks. He tried to dig his fingers into his skin, anything to try to make the pain lessen, but something caught his hand and held it as Cameron jerked and twisted, crying out.
Someone was speaking, and Cameron couldn’t make sense of the words, but they were calm and steady, almost infuriatingly so. He gritted his teeth and again tried to grab at his left arm, but his right hand was held firm.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Fuck, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, you’re going to be fine—”
Eons went by, and a coldness started trickling in amidst the heat, spiraling out from his leg until Cameron’s teeth were chattering. It rolled through his body in waves until it reached his arm, and the sudden freezing burst following the blazing heat made him want to retch. He did his best to curl up into a ball.
“God, I’m sorry, I know it hurts. I know it hurts, but it’ll pass. You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. It’s got to burn out your sickness, but you’re going to heal. Okay? You’re going to heal.”
Slowly, painfully slowly, the heat and cold receded some, leaving Cameron feeling feverish but able to blink open his eyes. The room was dim, only the table lamp on as the windows showed it was fully dark outside. It was snowing.
Cameron shifted, wincing at how his whole body ached. It was only then that he noticed he was under the covers again, alone in the room.
He heard a hushed voice from just outside the doorway. The door was open, and he could make out a shadow. Ezra. Talking on the phone?
“—called him first, since he’s closest to Cameron’s age… believe me, I know… fuck, I know… tomorrow. I wanted to make sure Cameron had options as soon as possible… if he isn’t, then we can wait.”
“Ezra?” Cameron croaked, sitting up.
“I’ll text you,” Ezra said quickly, before walking into the bedroom. He stopped next to the bed and gave Cameron a cautious smile. “Hey there. How are you feeling?”
“Not so great,” Cameron rasped, before coughing.
“Do you think you could try drinking something?” Ezra asked.
“Maybe?” The thought of water didn’t actively fill him with fear, at least.
Ezra walked over to the dresser and pulled out a water bottle and a straw. He twisted the bottle open and dropped in the straw before holding it out. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” Cameron said, reaching to take it. “Not terrified.”
A then-and-gone smile. “Drink slowly,” Ezra cautioned.
The water helped a lot, as Cameron sucked it down. Made him feel a little less foggy and soothed his throat. He did his best to pace himself, but he finished almost half the bottle before coming up for air.
“Hungry?”
Cameron shook his head.
Ezra nodded, not looking too surprised. “You’re not done yet, but when you are, you’re going to be ravenous. I have plenty of food ready for you when that happens, okay? And you can have as much as you want.”
“Done?” Cameron asked tentatively.
Ezra nodded. “Your body is still changing. Adapting to wh
at it can do now.”
“H-how do I know when I’m done?”
Ezra smiled, but it was tight. “You’ll need to shift.”
Cameron stared at him. “Into a…?”
“Yes. But I’ll be with you the whole time. You’ll be fine.”
“I won’t… I won’t hurt you, will I?” Cameron didn’t know a thing about how being a werewolf worked. What if he couldn’t figure out what to do? That was a thing in movies all the time, wasn’t it? Werewolves losing control.
Cameron did not feel very in control right now.
This time Ezra’s smile was a bit more genuine. “You won’t hurt me. It won’t last very long, the first shift. It’ll just be your body getting used to going from human to wolf and back again. Maybe a minute at most. Then you’ll be back to human, thoroughly exhausted, and probably starving.”
“Oh.”
“And we’ll go from there.”
“Oh,” Cameron said again. “Okay.” He hesitated. “Um, what’s tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?”
“I heard you. Um. Talking about options?”
Ezra took a seat next to Cameron’s bed. “In terms of teaching you about being a werewolf. There’s a private forum and support group for you to join, and I’ve called my brother Isaac to see if he can’t drive in to help you.”
Panic clawed at Cameron’s throat. “You don’t want me?”
“Oh… no, no, shh, nothing like that.” Ezra smoothed his fingers over the comforter. “It’s just that Isaac’s a lot closer in age to you. I thought maybe you’d prefer… spending more of your time with him, over me.”
“I like spending time with you,” Cameron said in a rush. “I know you. I trust you. I don’t know Isaac.” Please don’t abandon me.
Ezra searched his face. “Alright, of course. I’d still like you to talk to him though, to have someone else to talk to about this.”
“Where’s he driving in from?”
“Chicago. Not too far.”
“He doesn’t have to make that drive,” Cameron said quickly. “Not for me. We could… we could video chat?”
“I suppose that would be a start,” Ezra said slowly.
“And you said there’s an online support group thing, right? I can do that. Tomorrow, like you said.”
“Tomorrow,” Ezra said, doubtfully. “Or as soon as you’re feeling better.”
“I don’t feel that bad,” Cameron said at once.
Ezra frowned at him.
“Not… as bad as I did before,” Cameron allowed.
“I would hope not,” Ezra said, almost a growl. “However, be that as it may, your body is still healing and undergoing an incredibly traumatic change, and this time when I ask you to rest I would like you to listen.”
A moment’s pause.
“Yessir,” Cameron mumbled.
“Thank you,” Ezra said, after another beat of silence.
Chapter Thirteen
It was almost midnight when Cameron, who had been drifting in and out of a hazy sleep, started to feel something wrong deep in the pit of his stomach. Like it was twisting into knots, coils of not-quite-pain and not-quite-nausea. He had been lying down for too long, sitting still for too long.
He knew he’d promised Ezra that he would rest but right now he couldn’t—if he sat still one more moment he might actually die.
He threw back the covers and single-mindedly scrambled off the bed. He needed to—go. Be outside. Run.
A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. “Cameron, stay here.”
Cameron whined, shaking his head. “But—”
“Here, Cameron.” Ezra drew him in, circling his arms around Cameron’s back and nosing into his hair. It felt nice. Good. “You’ll be safe here. Just a few more minutes.”
Cameron nuzzled into Ezra’s chest without thought. The desire to be out in the fresh air with all the outside sounds and smells didn’t die away, but it dulled some, safe in Ezra’s arms and surrounded by his scent.
Scent…?
Cameron whined again as the influx of sensations hit him. “What’s—”
“You’re okay. You’re okay, just let it happen. I’m right here.”
The words registered, immediately followed by the feeling of something cool trickling all down and through his spine and yanking.
Time blurred together, and suddenly Cameron was different, in an unfamiliar shape, looking up at a human—human Ezra—giving him a close-lipped smile not baring teeth—
He could hear the rattle of the wind and sleet outside, his own heartbeat thudding in his chest, another thumping coming from the human, and it was all loud, almost too loud, so noticeable—
But the onslaught of smells were what neared too much. The clean bedding, laundry-soap smell tinged with Cameron’s own scent, the cold air being kept out from the window, a concentration of Cameron’s scent from his duffle in the room, the human’s scents, masculine and clean and aftershave and worry did worry have a smell—?
Another bolt of cold licking down his spine, followed by an intense heat too much too much—
Then Cameron was blinking in the dim right of the room from where he was crouched, naked on the floor.
The sounds and smells were all still there, slightly less but still so much more noticeable than they’d ever been before.
There was a displacement of air and scent and Cameron turned his head to see Ezra going down on a knee next to him, curling a warm arm around his shoulders. “How do you feel? Can you stand?”
“Yeah.” Cameron stood shakily, with Ezra’s help. He smelled so warm and good that Cameron regretted parting from him to stumble back into the bed, even though he immediately sank into the sheets, boneless and exhausted.
“How do you feel?” Ezra asked again, coming over to him.
“Everything’s… really intense? Smell is… a lot. Sound’s a little better but still a lot.”
Ezra stroked a hand through his hair. “I know,” he said quietly. “It’s going to be a lot right now. I’m sorry.”
Cameron sighed, closing his eyes happily at the touch, and a subtle cinnamon-spice scent was added to the air. “S’okay. I don’t… my arm doesn't hurt anymore. I don’t hurt at all.”
Ezra let out a breath. “I’m so glad to hear that. You did it. You made it through.”
“I guess so,” Cameron said hesitantly.
“Do you want to sleep, or do you want something to eat first?”
“Sleep,” Cameron slurred. “It’s nice being able to sleep in a bed. Missed it. Gonna…” he yawned. “Gonna take it while I can.”
“Okay,” came the soft response. “Okay. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”
***
Cameron woke up to sunlight streaming in from the window, and the moment he was conscious, he was suddenly so ravenous that it was painful.
He staggered upright to throw on some clothes, made a stop at the bathroom—using the opportunity to guzzle some water to try to get his stomach to stop cramping—and then hurried to the kitchen. He had vague memories of Ezra saying there would be food for him and that he could eat as much as he wanted, and right now Cameron was so hungry he couldn’t overthink it.
When Ezra had said Cameron’d have an appetite when he woke, Cameron hadn’t realized that would meant his stomach would try to eat the rest of his body.
He had barely made it out of the bedroom when he smelled eggsbuttertoastjuice, making his mouth water with how sharp the scents were, so well-defined he could almost taste them. It only made him walk quicker, until he was fairly running into the kitchen.
Ezra was there, standing at the counter assembling a plate, and Cameron was hit with his scent too, underneath the food, obvious even within the muddle of everything.
“Take a seat,” Ezra said, gesturing at the table, where two place settings were laid out. One plate already had a pile of scrambled eggs on it, as well as a stack of toast. Butter and juice and jam were also set out, and as Cameron moved to
sit down, Ezra also walked over to the table with his own breakfast.
Cameron looked at it all helplessly, stomach growling. Nose and ears doing overtime butter eggs salt garlic toast butter apple juice Ezra human clean scent Ezra scent warm good good why is it so loud
“Eat,” Ezra said firmly, breaking through Cameron’s spiralling thoughts. “It’ll help.”
Cameron didn’t need to be told twice, digging in with gusto. After he’d inhaled a piece of toast, half a glass of juice, and half the eggs, he came up for air enough to laugh. Only slightly hysterically.
“Hm?” Ezra asked.
“I just—” Cameron gasped. “I’m wolfing down my food.” He was barely able to get it out before he was cracking up again.
He didn’t realize his laugher had turned to tears until there was the scrape of a chair on the floor, and Ezra was hovering just next to him, not-quite-touching.
Cameron did his best to calm down. Something about Ezra smelled bitter all of a sudden, and Cameron wanted it to stop. “I turned into a wolf last night. I turned into a fucking wolf.”
“You did,” Ezra said. His voice was smooth and calm. Gentle even.
Cameron put his head in his hands. “Fuck.”
“What do you need?” Ezra asked. The bitter scent took on a tinge of salt. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t… I don’t even know. What happens? What happens? Do I get to go back to school? What happens if someone finds out about me? And I can’t—” he shook his head. “I can’t be this hungry all the time, I spend too much on food as it is—”
“You’ll be able to go back to school, and you’ll be fantastic,” Ezra said firmly. “As for someone finding out, you’d be amazed at what people aren’t willing to believe. But I’ll help you—there are others who will be able to help you. You’ll learn what you need to.”
“But I—”
Ezra breathed out. “Trust me.”