by Alex Jane
The maître d' showed them to their table, which was mercifully at the back, away from the musicians. Nathaniel was already grimacing with every high note on the violin and Gabriel really wanted to eat and not listen to Nathaniel moan. It was interesting to see so many gawping mouths and barely concealed whispers as their party passed through the room. Nathaniel's countenance and manner of walking was tense as if it disturbed him but was trying to hide it, except Gabriel couldn't help notice that he was exaggerating his limp just a little and had to smile that his husband was being so mischievous.
In the end, once they were seated and Nathaniel had indeed moaned about the noise—declaring that next time they would arrange to use one of the private dining rooms, which only elicited delight from everyone that there would be a next time, much to his chagrin—the evening passed rather amiably. The food was excellent, the music pleasant, and the company delightful. By the end of it, as they pushed out their chairs and got up to leave, even Nathaniel was smiling.
"Not too much of an ordeal for you, I hope," Gabriel teased as they waited their turn to collect their coats at the bottom of the stairs.
"It was passable," Nathaniel replied with a cheeky quirk to his lips. "The duck was particularly good."
"Good? I think if I weren't already wed, I might have proposed to it."
To Gabriel's shock, Nathaniel laughed. Not a full belly laugh, but more than a chuckle, which was the most he'd heard the man utter. "Good thing for me you are married then. I'd hate to have lost my gardener to a waterfowl."
"You still might if you keep your promise to bring us back." Gabriel delighted in the groan that elicited as the attendant handed them their coats and hats. "You should know better than to say such things."
"Perhaps."
Gabriel chuckled. "You're so transparent. I know full well you would make sweet love to that Baked Alaska given half a chance."
"As you said," Nathaniel said wryly, "I still might."
The easy smile and teasing, intimate tone took Gabriel somewhat by surprise, and in the moment it took his brain to find a reply, the space was filled by someone calling his husband's name across the hall. He thought perhaps an intrusion might kill the happy expression on Nathaniel's face, but when he turned to see Lavie Carpenter coming toward them from the other side of the room with his hand out-stretched, surprisingly, the good mood lingered.
"Nathaniel. So good to see you," Lavie said, pumping Nathaniel's hand enthusiastically. For a Beta, the man was stocky and wide and strong as an ox. Both him and his brother, Noam, were similarly built and Gabriel often thought it was simply because their good humor needed so much space to accommodate it. It was unsurprising that even Nathaniel with his antisocial bent would be helpless against such a force of friendliness. "It's been too long. What brings you to such an establishment?"
"Indulging my sister," Nathaniel said with a smile. "What else?"
Lavie laughed heartily, as he did everything, then turned his attentions to Gabriel. "I heard the good news from Tad. Let me offer my congratulations."
It took a second for Gabriel to understand he was referring to his marriage, and blustered, "Oh! Oh, yes, thank you. We're—we're very happy."
That was enough to wipe the smile from Nathaniel's lips, at least for a moment, and what he plastered back on in its place was hardly convincing. At least to Gabriel.
"Well, I hope you shan't be persuaded into becoming a hermit like this one," Lavie said, playfully cuffing Nathaniel on the shoulder. To Gabriel's amazement, Nathaniel didn't appear to mind, merely rocking under the force of it, the awkward curl of his lips relaxing into something genuine and warm. Gabriel, however, wanted to frown at the statement. He and Lavie hardly ran in the same set. He had mainly come to know him through Thaddeus Fletcher, being they were both cousins of sorts—Gabriel, a more distant Fletcher, and Lavie, once removed on the Carpenter side.
"No, of course not," Gabriel replied, and then on a whim said, "In fact, you should come to dinner at the house sometime."
Lavie's face lit up just as Nathaniel's lips pressed tight to form a hard line of disapproval. "That would be delightful," Lavie boomed. "And you must come to us. Perhaps after the full moon? I'm sure we can find a mutually agreeable date."
Lavie's words somewhat drifted away as he looked first to Nathaniel, then, perplexed by the sight of him distracted, with wide eyes and an ashen complexion, looked over his shoulder to see what had upset his friend.
Gabriel hadn't clapped eyes on Nathaniel's parents since they had attended Reuben's funeral. It had been ten years but they didn't appear to have aged a day. They had looked old then, stately and grim, and time had seemingly frozen them in that state. Alpha Hayward was still tall and thin, his face pinched and angry, his wife small but similarly dour, her old-fashioned gown buttoned to the chin. They might have made a handsome couple once, but the look of them now made Gabriel shiver. It wasn't clear whether they'd neglected to notice their estranged son was in the same room with them or if they were outright ignoring him, but Nathaniel seemed unable to pull his eyes away.
With little thought, Gabriel reached out and took Nathaniel's hand. "Yes," he said to Lavie. "I think that would be lovely. Would you mind if we made the arrangements another time? The ladies were feeling rather tired and wanted to leave. We should be getting back to them."
"Yes. Yes, of course." Lavie had always been a good sort and let them go without making a fuss or drawing attention to the fact Nathaniel was too stupefied to even shake his hand or say goodbye. When Gabriel started to draw him away, Nathaniel looked down at their joined hands then back to Gabriel's face with such innocent wonder, Gabriel's heart hurt with it. For a second, Nathaniel gripped him tighter then followed like a lamb as Gabriel maneuvered him through the crowds to find the others.
Gabriel was giddy and felt like a fool for feeling so. It was only a friendly touch, but the heat of Nathaniel's skin on his, the dry rub as they moved against each other, the electricity in the contact; it was overwhelming him as they walked out onto the street. He spotted the others getting into a carriage and walked to join them, drawing Nathaniel along behind. Priscilla saw them first, the wide grin that spread across her face quickly becoming concern when she saw Nathaniel's complexion.
Gabriel made a point of bundling Nathaniel into the carriage and hanging back along with Priscilla so he could lean in and murmur discreetly, "Your parents were arriving just as we left."
The worry and outright anger that swept over her was palpable. "Did he try to speak with them?"
"No. He…he seemed in shock. I didn't know what to do so I dragged him out."
Any worries that Gabriel'd had about doing the wrong thing were assuaged when Priscilla kissed his cheek and squeezed his arm tight as she whispered, "Thank you," before bounding up to take her seat.
The journey home was mercifully quick, probably aided by Priscilla's wonderful ability to keep everyone's attention fixed firmly on her and away from Nathaniel who gazed mournfully out of the window. After staring at the fist his husband was making on his thigh for ten minutes, Gabriel worked his fingers into it until Nathaniel's grip relaxed enough for them to hold hands under the cover of darkness—Nathaniel clinging to him like a drowning man in the dark.
When they reached the house, Nathaniel gave Gabriel's hand a squeeze before releasing him, bounding out of the carriage, into the house, and up to his room without a word to anybody.
"Is he all right?" Gabriel asked hesitantly as the party took a more sedate pace into the house. "Should I…?"
"No. He's fine."
Priscilla didn't sound convincing but Solomon added, "He'll be in a temper for a while. Best to leave him be. He always gets like this if he sees them. It's why he avoids going anywhere they might be."
"It's my fault." Priscilla sounded remorseful although it was clear to everyone it was not. "I shouldn't have made him go."
"No," Ruth said firmly. "It's Nate's fault for not standing up to them."
"Well, he shouldn't," she said, unwavering. "After what they did and said—I should have gone back in and given them a piece of my mind."
Solomon smiled and patted her hand. "I expect they're still recovering from the last time you told them what you thought of them."
Ruth huffed. "That was ten years ago."
"Exactly."
After removing their outerwear, they spent a short time in the kitchen, filling Abel and Frank in on the events of the evening over a nightcap before retiring. Gabriel said his goodnights on the landing before watching everyone head to the west wing while he went east.
Leaving Nathaniel alone when he was in such turmoil didn't sit right with him, and somehow he found himself passing by his bedroom door and walking along the corridor to stand outside Nathaniel's room. He'd had no reason to venture that way before and it was somewhat surreal to see things from that aspect. He had no idea what he might say to his husband and got as far as raising his fist to knock before he considered that perhaps Nathaniel might have already fallen asleep and it would be cruel to wake him.
As he turned to leave, he thought he heard a noise from behind the door, which made him pause, but thinking better of it, he simply whispered, "Sleep well," before hurrying back to the sanctuary of his own room.
6
"We should have a picnic."
Gabriel cracked open one eye and tipped his head back to look at Priscilla from where he had lain out on the grass, his head pillowed on his hands, his face toward the sun. She was sitting with her legs demurely to one side on a wide cushion at her brother's feet, resting her head on his knee as his hand curled affectionately around her neck. The rest of the pack were lounging about in the shade on blankets or not, lapping up the remains of the lemon ices Solomon had managed to procure after a busy afternoon. All but Nathaniel who had dragged a chair out, claiming he couldn't sit on the ground for long without his leg hurting. It had been a glorious day, filled with hard work that was perfect for a summer's evening relaxing in the garden, drinking wine and eating sweet treats as the sun scorched a crimson smear into the sky as it died.
"Aren't we doing that now?" Nathaniel murmured, not looking up from his book but not ceasing the movement of his thumb against her nape either. Gabriel tried not to feel envious at the affection he would have liked to receive for himself, and recrossed his feet at the ankle. If he got grass stains on his backside, so be it.
"No, I mean for the pack. For Gabriel's pack. We could put on a spread and they could come en masse, not in dribs and drabs as they have been. We could make it a party. Oh, yes! We could do it on the full moon, really make a day out of it. They'll be living here soon enough, so it would be so much fun to let them share the garden for that."
It was true that both packs hadn't been all together yet. All of Gabriel's people had come individually or a few at a time, to get the lay of the land before they moved permanently. The previous full moon, Gabriel had gone back and stayed home with his father who had been feeling particularly unwell, and Nathaniel had had no issue with him being away. It made sense that the whole family should celebrate together.
"I think it's a wonderful idea," Gabriel mumbled, his mouth slack from napping and too much sun. "We could do a pack run like we used to as children. Then we can all meet your wolf together, Nate. I'm rather surprised you don't let him out more often. I should like to see him again."
Without even opening his eyes, Gabriel felt the air still around him and the temperature plummet as if someone had dunked a pail of ice water over him. When he opened his eyes, Priscilla was on her knees glaring at Nathaniel, her hands curled into fists on her skirts as she hissed out, "You, brother, are beyond the pale."
At once, Nathaniel was on his feet, hobbling away as fast as he could manage without a stick, his book discarded on the ground along with his sister, who he had pushed back in his rush to get away. She called after him angrily, but he paid her no mind.
"Oh god," Gabriel said as he rushed to help her off the grass and into the seat her brother had vacated. "What did I say?"
"It wasn't what you said," she reassured him, "it was what he has not said."
"Which is?" Gabriel was at a loss, although the sheepish looks from the rest of the pack told him he was the only one in that state.
Priscilla regarded him, her jaw tensing for a moment before she smoothed down her skirts, brushing grass and dust away, saying, "Maybe you should ask him that."
"Once, just once," he said, picking Nathaniel's book off the floor, directing his comment to no one in particular, "I would love for someone to tell me what the big secret is around here before I put my foot in it. Not after." Then he strode away to look for his husband.
He found Nathaniel in his study, unsurprisingly. It was a surprise, however, to find his hands on the desk clutching an old scarf or something, as his head hung down, almost as if he was in prayer. He didn't look peaceful. On the contrary, he looked like a man in torment, and Gabriel didn't have the first clue as to how to fix what he'd done. Whatever that might be.
In the end, he simply cleared his throat and slid the book Nathaniel had dropped onto the edge of the desk. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"
"Yes," Nathaniel growled. "I would."
"That's a shame." Gabriel stepped closer. "Do I have to beat it out of you?"
He thought that might get a huff of derision, at least, something to break the tension, but all that happened was Nathaniel clutched the fabric in his hands tighter, pressing it to his forehead and uttering a plea. "Gabriel. Please."
"Please, what, Nate? I'm somewhat at a disadvantage here, not knowing what I said. Although, I am getting tired of this game. I know you're keeping things from me. Things the rest of the pack are clearly privy to given the way they can't meet my eye and talk in whispers. And that's all right. It's likely I have some secrets too but when things like this happen," he gestured in the direction of the garden even though Nathaniel wasn't looking at him, "I think I deserve an explanation."
The last thing Gabriel expected was for Nathaniel to look up at him with a frown and ask, "What secrets are you keeping from me?"
He almost laughed with the audacity of it but managed to cross his arms across his chest and look fierce. "You first."
"I don't—" Nathaniel shook his head and looked away, pressing his lips into the cloth as if to take in the scent of it for all Gabriel could tell, before he shoved it back in the drawer of his desk that always stayed locked. "You might hate me."
Gabriel shrugged. "Right now, I'm not exactly feeling very fond of you so you don't have much to lose."
"I should have made things clear before—before we were married."
"Made what clear?"
"I just didn't think—"
"Oh, for the love of—just say it, man!"
"I can't!" Nathaniel roared.
Gabriel shook his head and looked about, searching for some kind of clue. "Can't what!"
"My-my wolf. I can't…"
Dread, burning ice-cold, turned Gabriel's insides to water and he dropped his arms, ready to reach out as the world tipped precariously around him. "You can't transform?"
Nathaniel didn't speak. He remained frozen, his fist pressed tight to his lips, giving only the slightest shake of his head as an indication.
Slowly, Gabriel moved to sit in the chair across from his husband. It was hard to know how to feel about such a thing. And yet in some ways it explained a great deal. He'd never heard of anything like this before. Betas could sense the pull of the moon, could glimpse the taste of the animal within, change their nails to claws and teeth to fangs, an echo of their animalism. But for Alphas, they had a literal wolf inside them, able to transform from man to beast and back at will, each a separate entity and yet one and the same. To be unable to do so must be agonizing for both of them. Perhaps losing this ability had hampered Nathaniel's capacity to heal, or
maybe it was the reverse, his injuries leaving him trapped in one form. Perhaps too this explained his parents' rejection of him, not only for the cosmetic injuries to his body, but on a deeper level they had deemed him "broken".
For a time, they sat that way, each man gathering himself until Gabriel said cautiously, "I didn't think that was possible."
"Well, now you know," Nathaniel growled, his voice rough with grief.
"How long?" He felt he knew the dreadful answer but needed to hear it confirmed.
Nathaniel let out a long sigh before scrubbing a hand over his eyes. "Since the accident."
"Ten years?" Gabriel hadn't meant to sound so surprised but, dear god, he was. "How are you not mad with it?"
"Maybe I am. Maybe I am," Nathaniel whispered, as if to no one in particular.
"Is he…is he still in there?" When he got no reply, Gabriel braved looking over to find Nathaniel distracted. When he finally got his attention, Gabriel repeated himself. "Your wolf, is still…"
"Oh. Yes, he's there. He cries out sometimes so clearly, I can hardly bear it. There have been moments when my teeth will drop or my eyes will change for a second but…" Nathaniel paled and looked away, seemingly fearing he'd said too much.
Without taking time to think it through, Gabriel got up and rounded the desk, coming to stand next to Nathaniel's chair. He kneeled swiftly, and before his husband could protest, reached out and lay his hand flat against Nathaniel's chest. "Does he know I'm here?"