by BA Tortuga
Slowly, between the two of them, they fed her, the lean male learning quickly, eyes sharp and smart.
Canyon gave that narrow snout a lick of approval, letting the male know he’d done well and that Canyon approved. Then he turned and went to hunt up something else to eat. The two might not be able to stomach much more, as skinny as they were, but Canyon needed more food.
When he returned, the male was human and bent before the female, creek water brought over in a bowed piece of bark, trickling it into her mouth.
Pale as snow, with icy blue eyes and white blond hair, the man looked stunning, Canyon thought. This wasn’t the time for admiration, though. He dropped the two squirrels he’d caught on the ground, trying hard to let his human form come.
The man backed away, whining softly, fear harsh on the air.
Canyon waited for the terrible popping in his ears to subside, his heart beating so hard it felt like it might break his ribs. “Fuck, I hate that.”
The male blinked at him, vocalized softly.
Smiling, Canyon gestured to the bark. “Mind if I use that to get more?”
“More. More.” He got a nod, a half smile.
“Cool.” He took the bark, headed back to the stream. Carefully. As a man, he would glow in the fading light. Days were short now.
When he got back, the guy was holding the female, fingers on her fur. He was shivering.
“Shit. Not used to being without fur, are you?” Canyon hunkered down, giving them both another drink.
“No. No, this is only three times.” The words sounded rusty, the man’s voice unused.
“No shit?” He was amazed at how functional the guy was, really. “How’s she doing?”
He got a shrug. “She sleeps.”
“She’s going to have to be able to move in a few hours.” This had to be the most surreal thing ever.
The man nodded, bared his teeth. “She hasn’t gone so far. Ever.”
“I figured. I’m a friend of Granite’s.” Did these two even know Granite?
"I know the Alpha, his woman. The witch."
"Granite's a good guy." This whole scenario just didn’t make sense. “Your Alpha’s sick, man. Murdering. Rabid.”
“You know the Alpha?” The question was soft, the male’s eyes sharp as razors.
“No.” He grimaced. “Not of your pack, anyway. I’m here to take you someplace safe, though. Is there anyone else he has that’s not working with him?”
The look he got was completely confused, the male frowning at him. “He is Alpha.”
“There are other Alphas, man.” This was going to be an interesting ride.
A soft keening hit the air, then stopped like a door slammed. “Many?”
“No. No, it’s okay. Our Alpha is a good guy, okay? He’s like me. My brother.”
The little gal started crying in her sleep, and the male’s body tried to change. He fought it, cuddled her close. “Will kill her myself before I let another cage her or hurt her.”
Canyon had to fight the urge to growl and snap. He wasn’t mad at them. The rage took him by surprise, though, reaching deep down inside him. “No. No, where we’re going you’ll be free.”
“He’ll come and come.” Their eyes locked. “They say war follows us.”
“I’ve heard that. It’s because people are fucking greedy. They also say eventually you’ll live in peace.”
The male watched him, rocked her. “This is Riana.”
“She’s lovely.” She looked exhausted, skinny, and maybe a little catatonic.
“I’ve wanted to hold her, since I can remember.”
Wait. What?
“You’re not brother and sister?” Shit. He’d just assumed…He knew the myth, but these two looked so much alike, it seemed impossible they weren't related. “You weren’t caged together?”
“Not for so long. No. No, today. Finally. Today.” Those light eyes met his, filled with so much fucking pain. “I could hear her.”
Oh, God. The legends of the Two or the Pair were pretty damned vague, especially in his pack, which had never had a set born to them. But they were supposed to be born at the same time, and they were supposed to be, like, super-bonded. He’d just figured they were twins, no matter what the legends said about moms and dads.
“Well, now’s a good time, huh?”
He got a nod, then the man dissolved, going all fuzzy and toothy.
So much for having someone to talk to. He got it, though. It was bitter cold. His nipples were trying to jump off his chest.
The male came to him, on shaky legs, nostrils sniffing. So much braver as a wolf; he could tell they hadn’t spent much time as humans. He wondered idly, as he scratched the male’s ears, if they could read. He also wondered why he hadn’t asked what the male’s name was. The cold nose pressed into his hand, the tongue so soft, so hot. It jolted him, and in a way he really didn’t want to admit to. He stroked the cold fur, knowing he really needed to change back himself so he could eat, then get them warm so they could all rest.
Wind.
The word made him frown, because it wasn’t windy, not at all. In fact it was so still that he was afraid he’d have to cut some tree limbs to disguise their scent a little, just in case.
He looked over and the female was staring at him. Wind.
Canyon blinked. “Wind? There isn’t any.” It wasn’t making sense.
The male looked at him, barked, paws on his shoulders.
“Hi. I promise, there’s no wind. That’s good, right? Nothing to carry our scent.” He didn’t mention how bad it would be if someone got right next to their location.
He heard laughter, soft, warm feminine laughter, all around him, and he stared, something deep in his chest going warm and heavy. That was so damned pretty. His wolf came on him in a rush, like it hadn’t since he was a teenager and controlled by his cock. There was something about all this that had his body in an uproar.
His muzzle was licked, quickly, the male bowing for him. Canyon blew out his lips, then licked back, swiping at the little girl with his tongue, too. Sweet thing—her laughter sounded again as she blinked at him, her ice blue eyes like lasers.
Wend.
The male bowed to her, too, vibrating. Then he heard a deeper voice, echoing inside him. Canyon.
She answered back. Canyon.
Oh. Oh! The male’s name was Wend. Not Wind.
Wend panted, went to…Rain? Rhea?
Riana.
Right. He chuffed, tongue lolling. Riana. That was a fine name.
He went to her, touched noses. Hers was hot, dry. Riana was exhausted. Poor baby. He licked at her muzzle, then her ear. Sleep.
Stay?
The word vibrated inside him.
Stay. He wouldn’t leave them. He was their only protection.
Wend curled around her, their snow white muzzles together as they watched him. It made him a little self-conscious, but he wagged a bit and lay down, sighing some.
They both curled into him, snuggling like tired pups, the soft pants becoming snores. They were so tired. They weren’t used to long treks like he was. Lord, they probably weren’t used to being outside at all.
They sure weren’t used to being free.
Chapter Four
Riana felt a nose on her flank, nudging her. Trying to get her to move.
Tired. So tired. Close the cage door.
No Cage. The nudge came again. Harder.
Her eyes flew open, and her eyes met the big male’s. Canyon’s eyes. They were pretty in wolf form, lighter than they were when he was a human, but still dark for a wolf. He stared at her, not in a growly way, but unblinking.
She looked away, making sure not to challenge. It didn’t feel like he wanted to hurt her. Not at all, really, but she could be wrong.
Canyon barked, the sound more a soft woof, and licked her before turning and nudging Wend.
Wend’s head ducked, then he stood, lapping at her. When he touched her, she vibrated. So long.
They had been right there so long, and now she could touch him when she wanted to.
She buried her nose in Wend’s ruff, breathed deep. Wend.
Riana. His thoughts came through so clear. So bright.
They turned to Canyon, together, as one, nuzzling the big male. Home.
She tasted the word, rolled it over her tongue. It was a strange word, but this big male, he was that. Home.
Canyon barked, tail lifting, before turning to lead them out of the den.
Every inch of her was sore, unwilling to go, but Wend nipped and pushed, driving her into the dark and the wind.
This was ridiculous, all this going. Her legs thought so, her back thought so, and she was cold.
And her ears hurt. Her stomach was empty. Her cage had been safe, at least.
Still, Wend drove her forward. He kept his shoulder against her flank, keeping her moving while Canyon took the lead, cautiously at first, then faster.
She went, fretting silently. This place was loud—birds and wind, bats. Them. All the noise battered at her. She just wasn’t used to it. She felt bruised.
Finally it just got too big, too loud, and she stopped, refusing to move, teeth on her front legs as she worried.
Wend nipped at her tail, making her yelp softly. Canyon came back to them, teeth gently closing on her ruff. Come.
A soft whine left her. No more.
She’d never moved so much.
Wend snapped at her back leg. Now.
NO MORE! She took off at a run, dragging the last vestiges of her energy to move, her frustration driving her like a whip. The trees around her were huge and wild, the wind screaming. The world rushed past faster than she’d ever seen it, her feet hitting rocks and brush, her pads cracking under the strain.
Somehow nothing made sense, nothing was right, and terror tore at her spine like a hawk’s claw.
Something heavy hit her, a hard, furry body slamming against her. She let out a panicked yelp when she began to fall, but that same heavy form slid beneath her, breaking her fall. Canyon.
She bit and snapped, fighting desperately, so frightened.
Canyon simply rolled and put all his weight on her, holding her down, his chest on her back. He waited like that until she felt too tired to move.
His weight felt so good, strangely, like there was a blanket between her and the sky. He made her feel safe. Protected.
Her ears were licked, her ruff cleaned. The panic seeped out of her as she melted.
Riana. The word seemed to be all around her, and she couldn’t tell if it was Wend or Canyon. It didn’t matter.
She yelped, sighed, and Wend paced beside them.
Canyon let her rest for a few moments, her heartbeat slowing to match his. He wasn’t even panting.
She blinked, tail thumping once or twice.
If she were hoping that would earn her more rest, she was wrong. Damn.
The mean assholes made her stand on her bloodied paws, forcing her deeper into the woods. She thought Wend was her friend, her family, but he kept pushing her. Canyon led again, his tail just in front of her nose. She had this terrible urge to nip it.
Every so often Wend would chirrup at her, but she ignored him. She might be up and moving, but she didn’t have to like it.
Once he even jumped on her, grabbed her ruff and shook it, and she bit at him, snarling. She was sure she saw him laughing at her, the way his tongue lolled, but she just kept putting one foot in front of the other.
Maybe they were going to run until they died. She wasn’t sure why Wend made her leave her blanket, her crate. If they were going to die out here, in the cold, she could have stayed where she was, made it quick. A torn out throat was better than this endless aching.
Canyon barked sharply at her, almost like he’d heard her thoughts.
She curled her lip, pouting. Tired. She was tired. And scared. And outside. Cold.
Wend chuffed at her, bumped her gently. Pretty.
Oh.
She would have sobbed if she was in human form, if she could change like the others did. As it was, she just woofed a little.
Wend seemed to grow stronger and stronger, even matted and dirty and wet. It made her a little crazy, the way he was gaining strength instead of losing it, the way he seemed to be able to follow Canyon so easily.
Maybe the Alpha was right. She was the weak one. The worthless one. Only kept because they needed her to keep Wend calm. Because they needed her blood.
Wend turned and nipped her, yelping at her. No. Ours.
She whined softly, danced on sore feet. Yours?
Ours. The thought echoed, deeper, more sure. Not Wend.
She looked at Canyon, eyes rolling a bit. Yours.
Canyon’s tail wagged like a flag. Yep. Ours.
She didn’t understand this, didn’t understand any of it, but it didn’t bother either of the males; they just kept going. They seemed to have a plan. Too bad no one had shared it with her. It might make it easier if she knew where there was an end.
Eventually she simply stopped thinking altogether, hiding inside her sore body.
They walked forever. That was all she knew. Her feet were leaving little bloody marks when Canyon stopped, coming around to sniff at her.
She growled at him, danced away. Go away.
Canyon head butted her hip, making soothing noises. We should rest.
Don’t be mean. Nobody was ever going to let her rest again.
The little chuff she got in reply made her lip curl, and pure rage tore through the exhaustion that blanketed her. She was so angry. Furious.
All of her fear and pain, her disorientation and hunger came out in a rush, and she lashed out, fighting them both, telling them to leave her the fuck alone, stop pushing her, laughing at her, hurting her.
They let her fight herself out, both of them staying just beyond reach of any real harm. Canyon let her land a few bites, a few snaps, but in the end, he took her right back down to the ground.
Her only response was to howl, or try to. Her sounds were cut off by Canyon’s weight. Wend licked her ear, which was probably the only thing he could get to. Canyon was big.
Finally all she could do was cry, harsh broken sounds pushing from her, heaving from her until exhaustion took her, let her slip away and rest, no matter what the males wanted.
She was done.
* * * *
Wend danced, in a near panic.
Riana had lost her mind.
His girl had lost her mind.
His paws got tangled in themselves and he moaned, forcing himself to balance.
Riana.
Nothing.
Canyon had held her down and she had shorted out. She was gone. Asleep, kind of, but not really. Canyon came to him, licking his muzzle, trying to soothe him.
Wend had tried so hard. So hard. He’d freed her, opened the cage. He had.
There was a soft, continuous murmur of sound from Canyon, who didn’t seem to be worried.
He stepped closer, the offer of affection fascinating. No one had ever touched either one of them, him or Riana. The soft sounds, the warm body against his, the genuine affection in the voice from Canyon’s mind, it was addictive.
He nuzzled in, whining softly, his skin rippling with it.
Canyon licked his whiskers, cheek pushing against his.
The scent of male made him shiver, but he licked back, tasting. It was strange, but wonderful the way Canyon arched into his touch, the way the big wolf stropped against him. Wend leaned back, relaxed. There was something about Canyon that made him happy.
Good.
He barked softly in agreement, grooming Canyon’s ears carefully. It was. Canyon was good. Riana was less good—she was a little crazy.
The soft laughter he heard in his head was Canyon, all rumble and fondness. She’s scared.
I know. They kept her closer. He’d been allowed out more often.
She’ll be all right.
Promise? He’d believe Can
yon, if he promised.
I promise. Canyon sounded unshakable.
Wend lapped him easily then, believing. He could trust that scent. That never lied. Words did, sometimes his eyes did, but the scent never did.
They settled together, close to Riana, Canyon’s big body warm and comfortable. Safe. Canyon was theirs, somehow.
He liked that.
He hoped he wasn’t wrong.
He hoped they wouldn’t be put back in the cage.
No more cages.
Wend would try to have faith that, too. Maybe if they had enough time, Canyon could prove it.
Chapter Five
Canyon sighed, watching his two charges sleep. This was gonna be tough. He couldn’t leave them and go for the truck, which would be the easiest thing. The fastest. He’d promised, and he felt compelled to stay with them, protect them.
They were like sunlight and shadow. They were so damned innocent, but so weary. It tore at his heart.
Wend’s strength surprised him, the little male so determined to protect Riana, to free her. It made Canyon’s mouth water, more than a bit. Riana, though, seemed totally overwhelmed, terrified, confused. He wanted to hold her, cradle her.
She was going to be so excited when she got to be free and run in the grass and live. Right now the world was so huge.
One of her eyes popped open, stared at him.
So still. So quiet.
Maybe she’d had to be. Drawing attention might have gotten her hurt. He licked her ear, which was the only thing in reach.
That ear twitched, her body shivering.
Canyon chuffed, the puff of air making her twitch again. His tongue lolled. This was a good game.
She made the softest, curious sound, her nose sliding closer. He let another puff of air fall against her ear. She’d never played, he could tell.
Play? The word echoed in his head.
Play. He thought very hard about puppies, what it had been like to grow up with Mesa and Junie, always tugging and pulling and gnawing.
He knew she understood, he could feel it. Ah. Pack. We aren’t Pack.