Heartsong

by TJ Klune

  The driveway was filled with cars.

  I said, “That’s… a lot of people.”

  He said, “It is,” but I could hear the smile in his voice.

  I said, “Maybe I should just….” Go away? Stay in town? Head back down to the basement? Something other than face people I didn’t know but who undoubtedly knew about what I’d done.

  He stopped the truck next to the blue house, letting it idle for a moment before shutting it off. The engine clicked. The trees swayed in a soft breeze. A fat bee flew by his open window, and he watched it as it crossed over the front of the truck.

  He said, “If that’s what you want.”

  I didn’t know what I wanted.

  He said, “But I’d rather you stay with me, if that’s all right.” He was calm. Serene. He breathed in through his nose and exhaled out his mouth. He tapped the steering wheel once, twice, three times before settling his hand on the seat near his shirt. It was palm up, fingers open.

  An invitation.

  I put my hand in his.

  He held on tightly. “You don’t remember these wolves. They’ll remember you. Some of them won’t like it. They won’t understand. But you’re with me. You’re with your pack. That’s what I want you to focus on. Can you do that for me, Robbie?”

  I could. I thought there’d come a point where I’d do anything for him, and it would happen sooner rather than later. “Yes.”

  He nodded. “And if there ever feels like a moment when it’s too much, tell me and I’ll do whatever I can to make it all go away. We’ll run. Just you and me.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  He didn’t look angry or upset with me. “Why?”

  I looked down at our joined hands. His palm was rough and callused. I wondered why they didn’t heal. They felt like scars that couldn’t be taken from him with a shift. “Kelly.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He’s nervous. Upset, I think. About not being able to shift with the rest of us.”

  Ox nodded. “Did he tell you this?”

  “No.”

  “But you know anyway.”

  I said, “I’m good at that. Picking out what’s between the words. All the things that aren’t being said. I watch.”

  He sounded amused. “I know.”

  “Oh. Right. You would know that.” Then, “Did I….”

  He waited for me to collect my thoughts.

  “Was I useful? Did I contribute to the pack?” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Did I matter?” I hated how it sounded, like I was fishing. Like I needed his approval. I did, though. I needed to hear him say it.

  He squeezed my hand, and when he spoke, there was a curl of Alpha in his voice, low and heavy. He said, “Things were…bad, when we were younger. I lost someone very important to me. I thought I was going to break apart.”

  “Did you?”

  “In a way. But even when I thought I couldn’t take another step, I did. I had people depending on me. People who needed me. And as it turned out, I needed them just as much. But I remember how much it hurt, like I was flayed open, all my nerve endings exposed. And when you were taken, I felt like that all over again.”

  I wasn’t prepared for it. This truth. His truth. I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. He meant every word.

  He said, “I went to the woods. For days. I howled for you.” His voice cracked, and I wanted him to stop. I wished I’d never opened my mouth, but it was too late to take it back. “I howled for you with everything I had. My father told me once that the call of an Alpha is one of the most powerful things in all the world. That it echoes through the earth and the trees and the sky. And I knew, I just knew that if I was good enough, if I was strong enough, that you would hear me. That you would find me and you would find your way home.”

  “But I didn’t,” I whispered.

  He surprised me by laughing. It was rough and gravelly, like it crawled up from his chest through his throat. “You did, though. It just took longer than we expected. You heard us, Robbie. All of us. I forgot in those early days that an Alpha is nothing without their pack. It took longer than I’d hoped, but we came together again. We stood tall and we all howled for you. And not because you’re useful or because of what you contributed or what you could tell us about where you’d been. It’s because you matter. I couldn’t save my mother. I couldn’t save my father.”

  “But you could save me,” I said, sounding awed.

  “We could,” he said. “But only because you’d already saved us. When you came, we were broken. We were lost. You couldn’t fix us, but you didn’t need to. You made a home in here.” He tapped his chest. “And I wasn’t about to let you go. That was never on the table, even if I had to go it alone. I would have moved heaven and earth to get to you.” He chuckled. “Thankfully everyone came around, hardheaded though some of them may be.” He glanced at me, and a hint of red bled into his eyes. “An Alpha is only as strong as his pack. And you’re a part of that.”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  He squeezed my hand again, tilting his head back to rest against the window behind us. He closed his eyes. I’d overheard Gordo talking about Ox’s Zen Alpha bullshit, and I didn’t understand it then.

  I did now.

  He turned his head to look at me. “There are going to be rough days ahead. Are you with me?”

  And I did the only thing I could.

  I said yes.

  And there, in the back of my mind, I heard it, louder than it’d been before.

  packpackpack

  * * *

  “You can run, you know,” Kelly said. He sat beneath a tree at the edge of the clearing, picking at the grass between his legs. In the clearing ahead, a couple dozen wolves ran with each other, yipping, tails flicking back and forth. Clouds were starting to come in, thick and heavy, and I could smell rain in the distance, but the moon was bright, and my gums itched, my fangs wanting to drop. I forced them back. “You don’t need to sit here with me all night.”

  He smelled so blue, I thought the weight of it would crush me. He watched Carter wrestling with the timber wolf, their violet eyes flashing in the dark.

  “I’m okay where I am,” I said. I sat next to him, back against the tree trunk. Our shoulders brushed together every now and then, and I was working up the courage to lay my head on his shoulder. Pathetic, really. Especially the driving urge I had to go and find the biggest animal I could and kill it so I could drag it to him. Joe had told me before we’d gotten to the clearing that Kelly wasn’t a fan of bloody carcasses, and I didn’t know what else to bring him. He’d refused to tell me how this had happened before, saying I’d need to hear that from Kelly when we were ready.

  Carter, in his infinite wisdom, told me that I needed to be like a bird of paradise, all bright colors and prancing around a nest I’d made out of sticks and feathers and leaves in a sensual dance sure to attract the attention of a mate.

  It was while I was collecting said sticks and feathers and leaves and trying to figure out what I could do about bright colors when Joe told me in no uncertain terms Carter was being a dick and under no circumstances should I listen to his advice ever again.

  Which was a relief, because I didn’t think I was very good at prancing or sensual dancing.

  Carter assured me I was very good at it as he tried to hand me the sticks I’d dropped.

  But then Joe tackled him, and that was that.

  And now here we sat under a tree while wolves ran around us. Most of the Omegas had nodded toward me in greeting. One had even hugged me. Several gave me a wide berth. On them I could smell fear. It hurt, though I couldn’t blame them.

  It was probably best that I didn’t shift.

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” Kelly grumbled.

  I shrugged. “Maybe I do. I might be dangerous.”

  He glanced at me. “Oh, we’re joking about it now, huh?”

  “Too soon?”

  He huffed out a breath
. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

  “Make sure you do.”

  He laughed quietly. The sharpness of the blue around him faded slightly. It wasn’t much, but I wanted to howl at the moon because of it. I’d done that. Me. And then I had to go ruin it by saying, “Maybe you can ride me.”

  He choked. “Holy shit.”

  My stomach sank to my toes. “That’s not what I meant! Forget I said that.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” he said faintly. “That’s… wow. Just throwing that out there, huh? Dude, my mother is here. Whatever wolfy urge you’re having right now, maybe consider a little decorum.”

  “I mean when I shift!”

  “I’m really not into bestiality, Robbie. And that has nothing to do with me being ace. I just don’t want to touch your wolf dick. Please don’t mount me in front of our pack. Carter would never let me hear the end of it.”

  I groaned, putting my face in my hands. “Why are you like this?”

  “You mean amazing? I don’t know. I guess I’ve always been this way.” The blue faded even more, and now it was shot with green and something that felt almost like happiness. It was dim, but there.

  I dropped my hands and banged the back of my head against the tree a couple of times. He was covering up his laughter, and I wanted to tell him to stop. To just let it out. To let me hear it. I wanted to hear it. I needed to hear it. I said, “How did we get here?”

  “We walked.” He squinted at me. “Did you forget that too? That’s what happens when you promote sex between an animal and a human.”

  I bumped my shoulder against his. “I meant… this. Us. How did we….”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  He sighed, folding his hands in his lap. “You really want to hear this now?”

  I nodded. “I’ve got time.”

  “Do you?”

  “I think so.” And because I had nothing else to give, I said, “I don’t know there’s anywhere else I’d rather be.”

  He bit back a smile, eyes on me, then away. “Gonna puff out your chest and prance?”

  “I’m going to murder Carter,” I muttered.

  Kelly laughed. I puffed out my chest, oddly proud.

  That only made him laugh harder.

  I never wanted it to end. I wondered if it felt like this the first time. Seeing him. Really seeing him.

  He wiped his eyes. “You really want to know, don’t you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  I gave in. I couldn’t not. I reached over and put my hand on his knee. He tensed briefly but settled when I curled my fingers over his leg, just letting my hand rest there. I couldn’t look at him. I thought my face was on fire.

  He said, “That’s….” His voice broke. He cleared his throat. “After the hunters came, something shifted. Between us. I don’t know how or why exactly. You stopped being weird around me.”

  “Seems like I’ve picked that right up again.”

  He chuckled. “A little. It’s okay, though. It’s like… a beginning. You came to me one day. You were sweating. I remember thinking something bad had happened because you kept wringing your hands until I thought you were going to break your bones. I asked you what was wrong. And you know what you said?

  “Probably something stupid.”

  “You said that you didn’t think you could ever give up on me. That no matter how long it took, you would be there until I told you otherwise. That you weren’t going to push me for anything but you thought I should know that you had… intentions.”

  “Oh dear god,” I said in horror. “And that worked?”

  Kelly snorted, and I felt his hand on the back of mine. “Not quite. But what you said next did.”

  I looked over at him. “What did I say?”

  He was watching me with human eyes, and I thought I could love him. I saw how easy it could be. I didn’t, not yet, but oh, I wanted to. “You said you thought the world of me. That we’d been through so much and you couldn’t stand another day if I didn’t know that. You told me that you were a good wolf, a strong wolf, and if I’d only give you a chance, you’d make sure I’d never regret it.”

  I had to know. “Have you?”

  “No,” he whispered. “Not once. Not ever.” He looked away. “It was good between us. We took it slow. You smiled all the time. You brought me flowers once. Mom was pissed because you ripped them up from her flower bed and there were still roots and dirt hanging from the bottom, but you were so damn proud of yourself. You said it was romantic. And I believed you.” He plucked a blade of grass and held it in the palm of his hand. “There was something… I don’t know. Endless. About you and me.” He took my hand off his knee and turned it over. He set the blade of grass in my palm and closed his hand over mine. He looked toward the sky and the stars through the canopy of leaves. “We came here sometimes. Just the two of us. And you would pretend to know all the stars. You would make up stories that absolutely weren’t true, and I remember looking at you, thinking how wonderful it was to be by your side. And if we were lucky, there’d be—ah. Look. Again.” His voice was wet and soft, and it cracked me right down the middle.

  Fireflies rose around us, pulsing slowly. At first there were only two or three, but then more began to hang heavy in the air. They were yellow-green, and I wondered how this could be real. Here. Now. This moment. How I ever could have forgotten this.

  Forgotten him.

  It had to have been the strongest magic the world had ever known.

  That was the only way I’d have ever left his side.

  He reached out with his other hand, quick and light, and snatched a firefly out of the air. He was careful not to crush it. He leaned his head toward mine like he was about to tell me a great secret.

  Instead he opened his hand between us.

  The firefly lay near the bottom of his ring finger. Its shell was black with a stripe down the middle. It barely moved.

  “Just wait,” Kelly whispered.

  I did.

  It only took a moment.

  The firefly pulsed in his hand.

  “There it is,” he said. He pulled away and lifted his hand. The firefly took to its wings, lifting off and flying away.

  He stared after it.

  I only had eyes for him.

  He said, “There were good days. Many good days. But they weren’t all that way. Sometimes we’d fight over stupid things. You spent the night at Gordo’s a couple of times. Or that’s where you said you were going. But without fail, the next morning, I’d find you sleeping outside the bedroom door on the floor. Even when you were mad at me, you couldn’t stand the thought of being away for long.” A tear trickled down his cheek, and he wiped it away. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so—”

  “No,” I said hoarsely. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I like hearing this. I need it.” That didn’t seem quite right. I shook my head. “I want it.”

  “I should have done more,” Kelly said, and his chest hitched a couple of times before he got it under control. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t strong enough.”

  I shook my head furiously. “No. Kelly, that’s not—you couldn’t have stopped him. I don’t think anyone could have.”

  He was getting worked up, brow furrowing, the corners of his mouth drawing down. “That’s what everyone told me. That’s what I tried to tell myself.” His eyes shone in the pale moonlight as he looked at me. “But how could I have let this happen?”

  I squeezed his hand so tight, I thought his bones would turn to dust, the blade of grass still between us. He didn’t try to pull away.

  I said, “You’ve gotta hear me” and “you’ve gotta listen to me” and “Kelly, Kelly, Kelly, it doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t matter because no matter what happened, we’re still here. We’ve still found our way back. I know it’s not like it was, and I don’t know if it ever will be, but god, look at us. Look where we are. Even after everything. I don’t know you well yet, but I want to. And I don�
�t know that I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

  He said, “You don’t know that, you don’t know what you want, how can you, how can you even know if this is—”

  A peal of thunder rippled overhead.

  Water splashed against my hair. Against my cheeks. The tip of my nose. Our joined hands, trickling between us, wetting the blade of grass.

  I looked up to see thick clouds rolling.

  The fireflies winked out.

  “It’s raining,” I said, and I didn’t know why it felt monumental. “I saw you.”

  “When?”

  I closed my eyes against the sprinkle of rain. It was warm and cleansing, and wolves began to howl. “In Caswell. I don’t know if it’s a memory or a vision, but we were walking together. Just you and me. I didn’t know it was you. You weren’t clear. Like a haze. Fuzzy. But we were together, and you were holding my hand, and you were acting weird. You’d told me I needed to come with you, and I said you were acting all—”

  “Mysterious.”

  I opened my eyes. “Yeah. Mysterious. And you said it wasn’t bad. That it was good. You hoped it would be good. And even though I didn’t know who you were, I believed you. Because I knew you would never lie to me.”

  He was quiet for a moment. Then, “It wasn’t a memory. At least not for you. It was… from me. When we found out where you were, Aileen and Patrice thought we could reach you somehow. That even though Livingstone had a hold over you, the bonds between us all were stronger than any magic he had. They said that if any of us could get through to you, it’d be either Joe or Ox.”

  “Or you.”

  He nodded. “Aileen said I needed to show you something bright. Something warm. Not necessarily the best thing that ever happened to us, but something personal and significant.”

  I felt like I was on a precipice. My toes were at the edge, and all I needed to do was lean over into the void and it would all become clear. “What did you want to show me? What happened that day?”

  I never got an answer.

  I never got an answer because the void wasn’t empty.

  I stepped off the edge and

  (would you hear me, dear?)

  (of course you would)