Unwilling: a shifter romance

by Hannah L. Corrie

  Darwin

  The group of hikers stopped at one of the park's designated resting places. As a tour guide, Darwin handled lots of obnoxious people, but he had gotten lucky this time: the four grown-ups, three children and four teenagers he guided through the national park around Baneswood forest were quiet, respectful towards nature and very interested in the local wildlife. They kept their voices down and picked up their trash without Harry or Darwin having to remind them.

  Darwin was happy to have Harry with him. He was another out-of-town werewolf and had quickly become his best friend and the only person aware of Darwin's secret.

  The air was crisp and cool already, but it would get even colder once the sun set fully.

  Harry was helping the tourists build a stable campfire in the regular pit while Darwin managed the five tents they needed. A perfect, calm, pleasant evening. But wouldn't it be great to share this with Jared? The handsome, tanned, grinning face appeared before Darwin's daydreaming eyes and made him tense instantly. How he hated the haunting that man had put upon him!

  Snarling, he put up the last poles and tugged the canvas over the naked framing, his face contorted with tension.

  "Darwin, you're growling."

  Harry's hushed voice was strained with effort to not laugh. Darwin grunted and fastened the canvas, then rose from his crouch and stared at the finished tent grudgingly. "No, I'm not. See? I'm good. No, I'm perfectly fine," he huffed and waved his hand dismissively at his friend. "Go cook dinner. I'll be there in a minute."

  He didn't need to look back at Harry. The smug grin was audible in his voice when Harry murmured, "Alrighty, try to chill a bit. We'll be home tomorrow evening; you'll just have to get by with little ol' me until then."

  Darwin whirled around, ready to smack Harry, but the bastard was already jogging back to the campfire, giggling madly. Darwin heard him tell their customers a story about a difficult relationship and bit down another growl. He didn't miss Jared, goddamn it! He hated that guy! He really did, didn't he?

  Another five minutes of calming down later, he felt ready to join them at last.

  By that time, the pre-prepared bean stew was already simmering and the conversations flowed easily. Darwin sat by quietly, occasionally poking the coals with a stick while he listened to the story of how two of the adults had first met. The lulling voices lured his mind to drift off and back to Jared.

  He remembered the sensation of his body rubbing against Jared's vividly. Moans echoed through his brain, the ghost of the spray of hot water tickled his chest, his muscles tightened the moment he had—

  A hand clapped his thigh in a friendly manner. His jaws clicked together in shock over the sudden touch ripping him out of his daydream. He realized he hadn't heard a damn word the woman next to him had said. When he saw Harry mouth a 'Thank you' out of the corner of his eyes, he smiled belatedly and said, "Thank you," even though he had no idea what he was thanking her for.

  The woman didn't seem to notice his clueless expression and nodded, smiling. Harry on the other hand fought a hard battle against a laughing fit trying to break free from his mouth.

  Dinner was hearty and filling, but the hike always took it out of the tourists. It was about nine pm when they all retired to their tents, leaving Harry and Darwin to deal with dirty dishes and their hushed conversation about the best route for the next day's hike.

  When they were done, both boys leaned back and groaned softly.

  "So, what was I thanking that lady for?" Darwin asked, scratching his belly lazily.

  Harry grinned. "She told you how much she hated her husband when she first met him and that you shouldn't worry so much that your friend gets you riled up so easily. It means you have a big heart, ready to develop great amounts of feelings."

  Darwin slapped his shoulder and sighed. "Good thing I didn't hear that earlier. I'd have said something crass," he grumbled and flashed a grin. "Big heart, huh?" he echoed.

  Harry threw another log into the blaze and watched Darwin carefully. "So, enlighten me. What is it with you and Jared? You look like arch enemies stalking each other, but you stink like heavy porn every time you meet."

  Darwin made a face and shook his head. "I don't know, to be honest. I hate him. I mean, I really hate him. I want to scratch his eyes out of his gorgeous face every time he looks at me." Wincing at his own words, he let his head fall forward, slumped down and tugged his hair. Harry was his best friend and he was pretty perceptive. He probably had already noticed how infatuated Darwin was with Jared, waiting for him to discover it for himself. Damn sneaky bastard. "Shit. I can't fall in love. Shit," Darwin muttered.

  "Because of your Alpha?"

  Harry knew some of the stories about Darwin's life that no-one else had ever heard, not even his adoptive dad. But even Harry didn't know the whole extent of it all, only censored bits and pieces. He had seen the bruises, though. The broken bones. The cuts and the dark rings below his eyes, the way he dressed when he wanted to keep his pain a secret from Harry.

  Sheer stubbornness on Harry’s part was the only reason he had told Harry anything. That, and threatening to tell Darwin's father about the injuries. That threat had been enough to send Darwin into a panic. He had broken down and told Harry between sobs about his Alpha being the source of Darwin's regular injuries, 'testing his dominance' as Darwin had put it. That Darwin would die if the pack leader ever found out he was submissive. He had made Harry promise to never tell a soul of this, and Harry had been shaken enough to agree, if reluctantly.

  Harry had kept his promise all this time. But now there was Jared, who seemed infatuated with Darwin.

  "You don't understand." Darwin kept tugging his hair. "It's not the love that is the problem, it's Jared. He's not submissive like you. I can't play the dominant part if we end up in a relationship. And if I can't play the dominant part, someone will find out, and that means He will find out."

  Harry poked the embers around a bit with his stick and said, "Have you ever considered that Jared might be an Alpha himself? Wouldn't a relationship kind of solve all your problems at once if he were?"

  Darwin flinched and straightened his back at the thought. Yeah, what if Jared was an Alpha?

  Every werewolf knew the distinct difference between a dominant and an Alpha. Dominant werewolves were powerful, intent on climbing the ranks in their pack, and thoroughly obsessed with control over their environment. They had strong protective instincts towards their pack and tended to become unbalanced if they had nobody to care for. They needed submissives like they needed air to breathe, and they needed a pack to stay calm and content.

  Alphas were a whole different creature. They were born with the power to rule, highly independent and unwilling to bow their heads to another werewolf. Alphas could survive on their own, they didn't need a pack or submissives to stay balanced, and they were adaptive enough to live all alone near humans without ever becoming feral or dangerous to anyone.

  That didn't mean an Alpha would be happy living without a pack or all alone. Every werewolf needed a pack to be able to relax fully. The biggest problem for an Alpha was their inability to get along with others of their rank. They were generally adept at controlling themselves and their need to rise to the top of their pack, able to blend in and play a role. But the mere existence of another Alpha in their home ground raked their nerves on a daily basis, often leading to fights to the death. And since only an Alpha could identify another Alpha, hiding was not an option, no matter how well they played a role.

  Being an Alpha didn't automatically mean you got a big, strong body and high charisma, though.

  They came in all forms and shapes, from soft, small women to obese men, and most often the birth right didn't run in families. They were nature's roulette game. If a pack's reigning Alpha didn't force them to leave at the age of 18, they also had a right to believe they were supposed to take over the pack.

  It was entirely possible that Jared was an Alpha. It was a more probable scenario tha
t he was just a dominant werewolf trying to make Darwin his interim pack.

  Sighing, Darwin let go of his hair. "I don't like this. I should go and find out what he is, but I honestly don't think he could help me. I'd just get him killed." The thought of endangering Jared made his chest tight and his insides queasy.

  Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Okay, fine. I'll try to find out." Darwin shot him a hard glance and he lifted his hands and grinned. "I won't tell him anything, I promise. Just let me work my magic, okay?"

  Envy and Hatred

  Darwin

  Darwin lived on campus, but he always had dinner with his father on Sunday evenings. It was the only evening he could somehow fit into his rigid schedule and the risk of chancing upon one of the pack meetings was lowest. The one story house sat on a hill at the outskirts of Banes, right next to a small forest with a lovely little pond in the middle, near enough to the city to get help quickly if something happened, but far enough from the busy main roads to avoid additional stress, nosy neighbors and traffic.

  His adoptive father, George, opened the door before Darwin got the keys out of his pocket and smiled a lopsided smile at him.

  "Hey there, boy. You're late!" George said happily and moved his wheelchair out of the way.

  "Sorry. There was a hold-up at base camp. Someone lost his Rolex and we had to look for it," Darwin said, came in and hugged his father. "What's for dinner?"

  "Pot roast." George steered his electric wheelchair out of the anteroom and Darwin put his jacket away and took off his shoes. "Mary, Darwin's here!" George called into the house and disappeared around a corner. Seconds later, Mary, the young nurse/housekeeper, stuck her head into the anteroom and pressed a quick, dry kiss on Darwin's cheek.

  "Hey, munchkin! Dinner's ready, hurry up!" she said and withdrew again.

  Darwin walked after her, shaking his head. His father's apoplectic stroke hadn't been able to slow down his family so far. George had been his Alpha's enforcer for twenty-five years. Now he was chained to his electric wheelchair, his face distorted due to the paralysis of most of the right side of his body, and he had to keep Mary around 24/7.

  Darwin walked through the rustic living room, only stopping for a moment to kiss the picture of his dead grandmother. The kitchen was filled with the scent of pot roast and steamed vegetables, underlined with a faint note of fresh paint. It had just been renovated and the new maple covered kitchen units gave it a light, homey feeling. It vaguely reminded Darwin of Jared. Sunny, cheery Jared, who tried so hard to appear snarky all the time. Smiling, Darwin sat down vis-a-vis his father, who gave him a curious once-over.

  "How's life?" George asked, grabbing a bottle of apple juice to fill their glasses. With the new, low-set dining table it was easy for the older man to reach everything on it, but the height difference still felt funny and disconcerting to Darwin.

  Let's see: I had a quickie in the gym showers, there's a new dominant in town who's ready to ruin my life and Harry's trying to set me up with him. How's your week been? Nope, it didn't sound like an answer George would appreciate. But what else could Darwin say? That he hated being forced to study something he didn't like, that he thought about running away, that his father's oldest friend threatened his life? Would that he could be honest, but his father's health made it impossible. No stress, the doctors had said.

  He grabbed his glass and took a big gulp to buy time, set it down with an unintentionally loud thud and cursed softly before answering, "It's okay. I still haven't found time to enter the botany course I told you about, but that's fine. I can try next semester." Darwin had wanted to study botany since childhood, but when he had turned eighteen, the Alpha had ordered him to major in business economics.

  George shook his head, fiddled around a bit with his drinking straw until he found it to his liking, and took a sip himself. "I've never understood why Carl insisted on that. It's stupid. Are you sure you don't want me to talk with him?"

  Carl Jefferson was their Alpha, and though Darwin trusted and loved his adoptive father, he still feared it would kill George to know the truth about his 'meetings' with Carl. The doctors had explained in no uncertain terms what stress could do to a stroke victim. Stressing out George might cause another stroke and that second one would be his last. So what would happen if Darwin told his father about the things his best friend was doing to his adoptive son? About the late nights in Carl's soundproof cellar, about the marks, the bruises, the fear and the pain... Don't think about it, his inner voice demanded as soon as his mind started to drift towards that dark, ugly place.

  Darwin wouldn't risk his father's life, not even to save his own. He smiled broadly and shook his head. "Nah, that's alright. It's not bad, you know. I'm learning a lot of pretty useful stuff."

  ... not.

  Again his father shot him a curious, thoughtful look and shrugged. Only his left shoulder moved; the sight of it hurt Darwin's heart. George had been a strong, well-built, outdoorsy guy before the stroke, but the death of his mother, Darwin's grandmother, and the accident in which his second wife had been killed shortly after had not only short-circuited his brain, but also broken his heart and body.

  "Okay, whatever floats your boat. If you change your mind, give me a holler." He winked and Mary chose that moment to interrupt their talk by walking in with a casserole full of steaming, glorious pot roast.

  Time flew by over dinner. Afterward, they sat in the living room, sharing hot cocoa-- without the obligatory squirt of rum, since George couldn't drink alcohol anymore— and somehow, the topic switched to their pack. It always did and it made Darwin antsy and unsettled every time.

  They talked about gas prices, movies, and about an incident where a police officer shot a Miniature Pinscher in a home raid, then settled in a comfortable silence. George decided to get more cocoa and drove off into the kitchen. Darwin sighed into his half empty mug when Mary turned to him, pulled one knee against her chest, and examined him with a slightly worried expression.

  "Did you hear about Giselle?" Mary asked, hands clutching her own mug tighter, never taking her eyes off him.

  Darwin wrinkled his brows. Giselle was another submissive pack member, but neither was she someone special in the pack, nor was she in any way related to his family, or Mary's. Just a soccer mom with three little kids, a poodle, and a balding, happy husband.

  "Giselle? No. What happened?" he asked, trying to decipher the strange flurry of emotions on Mary's face.

  Mary licked her lips and threw a glance over her shoulder to where George had rolled off to. When her eyes met Darwin's again, her gaze begged him to keep quiet about what she was going to tell him. "Well, seems like someone broke into her house. We don't know what exactly happened, but the police found her tied up and scared to death." She threw another glance over her shoulder, than she added hesitantly, "She got beaten up badly, just like your grandmother. But she survived."

  Darwin blanched. Break-ins happened all the time, but his grandmother had died when somebody had broken into their house. George had found her tied up, beaten into a bloody pulp, dead. She would still be alive if she hadn't been lying on her back, drowning in her own blood.

  "They never caught the guy," Darwin whispered and rubbed his hands over his face. "Does my father know about this?"

  Mary sighed, chewing her lower lip for a moment. She was young, only twenty-eight, but in that moment she looked old and worried. "He knows about the break-in, yes, but I didn't have the heart to tell him the details. You know what the doctors said."

  Darwin knew all too well. Everyone had reasons to keep secrets from George and the amount of those secrets grew slowly but steadily over the years.

  He was about to answer when George wheeled back into the living room and took a big gulp from his newly refilled cup. "Wow, people, why so silent?" he asked cheerily and parked next to the couch. His eyes found Mary. "Did you tell him about the pack meeting?"

  Darwin's gaze snapped to Mary, who suddenly looked guilty. "W
hat pack meeting?" he asked, alarmed. This couldn't be good. Darwin avoided pack get-togethers as often as possible. It was an effective way to distance himself from Carl, the Alpha. A distance he dearly wanted to keep.

  George explained, "Well, obviously someone is targeting werewolves, what with the break-in at Giselle's and so forth. So Carl has called for an emergency pack meeting and he explicitly asked for you to come."

  "A pack meeting, just because someone robbed Giselle's home?" The explanation made Darwin twitchy, but not in a good way. Had Carl finally found a way to get his hands on Darwin again, after nearly four months without an incident?

  Nothing in George's face hinted he doubted the reasoning. He nodded, then shook his head and sighed. "Well, they also tried to break into the pack headquarters and someone blew up one of Carl's Jeeps, out in the woods. They didn't succeed with the second break-in. Good for us, because there are files on those laptops we wouldn't want anyone to see."

  Mary bobbed her head, agreeing with George's descriptions. "It's just a pack meeting, Darwin. We won't keep you from your studies, or your work. You're free next Friday, right?"

  Darwin's mouth went dry. He actually was free on Friday nights, although he chose to spend those in one of the guide quarters at work, far away from the pack. He wouldn't get out of this. Shit.

  "Yeah, Friday's good," he mumbled as his lips went numb. "I'll be there."

  Harry

  Harry's world had always been small. Growing up in southern Texas, he'd lived with his mother, father, and his little sister in a village so tiny, most travel maps didn't have a marker for it. The only major road nearby was used by just a few local transportation companies. He had known how to handle a tractor before he had learned how to ride a bike and his 'walk' to school had consisted of a twenty minute jog to catch the bus and a 15 minute ride in the beaten old thing. When his teachers had urged him to go to college and 'get out of this dump' on the day he turned eighteen, he'd been terrified. What if he ran into trouble out there in the wide world?