The Wolfing Way (Lifting the Veil)

by Susan Laine

  “But…?” Rafe encouraged softly.

  Kris made a special effort to be diplomatic. “But the thing is I have plans for the future. Once I finish college, I’m getting a bachelor’s degree in mythology.”

  “Theoretical or practical mythology?”

  Kris stifled a hysterical laugh. “The old kind. What is now called theoretical.” That had been one of the countless changes resulting from the Great Unveiling. Mythology was now either theoretical or practical/applied. Ridiculous. He huffed indignantly, as though the matter concerned him personally—and funnily it did now. “Didn’t you know that about me? I thought you had extensive files on me.”

  Rafe laughed amusedly. “The NFL provided only what is available on public record. We’re not the government, after all.”

  Kris found that he really liked the honest and natural burst of energetic laughter from Rafe. From his mate. “Why can’t you tell me your full name?” He knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

  “Legal advice. You could find me if you knew my name. Google me or something. Despite the Great Unveiling, not all of us of the Unseen world are out in public. Sure, there are public figures, but I’m not one of them. Neither are any members of my family.”

  His family. Kris hadn’t even thought of that. He had this image in his head about lone wolves hiding in the shadows, lurking and skulking and hunting. Even if the wolf happened to be a man too. Nonetheless, in this day and age when spying on others seemed to be an international pastime, the need for privacy was overwhelming—especially since most of the variety of creatures of the formerly Unseen world had qualities, gifts, abilities, and powers to be exploited. Kris could understand Rafe’s position, since everyone in the world seemed to be doing their very best to get the inside scoop about everyone else—and then huffing with unrighteous indignation if they themselves ended up as the object of such intrusions into their personal affairs.

  Yeah, a joke on others is never so funny when turned around, Kris thought laconically.

  “You, uh, you have a large family?”

  Rafe chuckled, and the affection came through loud and clear. “Yeah. My father and mother are the pack alphas, and my elder brothers are the betas. I have a whole line of uncles, and aunts, and cousins, and second cousins, and all that. All of us together form the pack, and we live on the ranch grounds, and—oh, I didn’t mean to say that.”

  As Rafe fell silent, like coming to a dead stop, Kris realized Rafe had misspoken and revealed something he shouldn’t have. Rafe lives on a ranch. “You have nothing to fear from me, Rafe.” Kris set out to assure him, barely observing that he’d used his mate’s name for the first time—and it had come out so naturally and effortlessly that it had to mean something. Shrugging off the uncomfortable notion of what that something elusive was, he continued as if he’d said nothing strange. “Even if you and I don’t get together or anything, I’m not going to betray your secret to the world. I’m not like that.”

  A soft sound—a sob?—came through faintly and gave Kris heart palpitations. “I know that, Kris. You seem like a fine person to me. A nice guy. I had a good feeling about you all along.”

  His blood thrumming in his ears, Kris felt his cock hardening under the covers of his bed at the honest assessment of his character coming from his mate. He had to shift his position in his bed, and in a purely reflex motion, his hand slipped under the waistband of his boxer briefs to grab tightly at the base of his dick to hold back his heightening arousal. Oh God, that felt so good. Kris sighed.

  “Are you in bed?” Rafe asked.

  Kris stammered, “W-what…?” He yanked his hand away so fast his nails scraped the sensitive skin of his cock, and he winced at the sting of pain.

  “I can hear sheets rustling,” Rafe said, and Kris could’ve sworn he sounded amused.

  Coughing, embarrassed—and a little furious at getting caught, literally, with his dick hanging out—he said, “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed the time, but it’s past twelve at night. So, where else would I be?”

  Rafe laughed low and sexy. “Now hang on there. No need to be embarrassed, Kris. I’m in bed too. It’s even later over here.” Kris had a troubling thought that this call was turning into something naughty that he, to be honest, had never done before. It was slightly unsettling—and a whole lot arousing. Maybe it was Rafe’s natural drawl and husky tone that gave Kris goose bumps all over, but suddenly he had no other desire than to hear Rafe moan his name as they were both coming.

  To get himself under control—and buy some much-needed time to do so—Kris asked, “And, uh, where is that exactly?”

  Rafe laughed again, sweetly. “Nice try, honey.”

  Honey? Kris thought he might actually cream himself right then and there. The way Rafe used the endearment made his heart skip a beat and his cock twitch hot and hungry. “Will it…. I mean is this how it’s going to feel if we meet?”

  “What do you mean?” Rafe’s tone grew serious, and the raspy tone changed back to the boyish, slightly high-pitched voice.

  Kris chose his words carefully. “If you and I met, you know, personally and face to face, would I be immediately and instantly smitten?”

  “Smitten?” Rafe sounded amused by his choice of term but replied quickly, “As my mate, you would be physically attracted and sexually drawn to me, yes. My pheromones would excite you to the point of… uh… a physical reaction.”

  “You mean I’d get a hard-on right on the spot?” Kris felt his cheeks burn.

  “It’s not like you would sport an erection all the time with me,” Rafe clarified. “But yes, in a way you would feel perpetually horny around me—as I would be with you. That is how mating works. Feeling good, better than ever before or since, is normal.” For a moment, Rafe hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice was uncertain. “Never having had a mate, obviously, I don’t exactly know how it would feel or how well either of us would control our emotions or reactions. This is as new to me as it is for you.”

  “Your parents never shared any details with you?” This possibility surprised Kris, as he had assumed his mate—Rafe—would have all the answers to all the questions he could ever think of. Well, guess not.

  “Generalities only,” Rafe replied, and Kris assumed the guy was shrugging. “There are some commonalities between all matings, but there are differences too, because we’re all different. Our feelings are unique, just like our relationship and our interactions will be. Uh, I mean would be.”

  Kris thought about this. In advance, he’d known very few specifics. After all, it had only been nine years since the Great Unveiling had taken place. The world was still reeling and coming to terms with the reality of the true nature of the world and all the consequences that came with it. Specific knowledge of werewolf mating wasn’t exactly available for everybody on Google, and a lot of the stuff that was available was either inaccurate or speculative. Kris had been under the illusion that every lycanthrope would feel the same with their respective mate—which was apparently the wrong conclusion.

  “Is that one of the reasons you refuse to meet with me?”

  Kris heard the tremor of uncertainty in Rafe’s voice and could sympathize. After he’d waited two centuries to meet his mate, Kris had rejected him before they’d even had a chance to exchange greetings. He had to be honest. “Yes.” Hesitating for a second, Kris found the courage to continue. “I’m worried that if we meet, I won’t be able to control myself. That I’ll feel something so overpowering and overwhelming that I’ll forget myself and get lost in a heated frenzy. That I’ll feel something that won’t be real but is just a physical response to your stimulus. We can’t build a life together just on the off chance that the sex might be awesome. Right…?”

  “I understand,” Rafe said, his tone strong and empathetic. “I don’t know how much you know about our first actual meeting and how it would take place. But we wouldn’t be alone. Our families would be there with us. And legal counsel.”

>   “How efficient and business-y,” Kris muttered curtly, surprising even himself at how angry he sounded. A heavy, loaded silence greeted him through the phone, and with a shudder Kris thought that maybe Rafe had finally had enough of him and hung up on him. What surprised him the most was the fact that he didn’t want Rafe to disappear from the line—or Kris’s life. “Are you still there…?”

  A chuckle without much humor to back it up reached him. “I thought that was my line, honey.”

  Kris had to get this conversation back on track to something diplomatic, and polite—and to information gathering without overextending his welcome. “Do you know what I look like?”

  “I have seen a picture,” Rafe answered, and he sounded assured and confident and excitingly manly again. Kris liked the warmth of his voice, and the natural drawl wasn’t bad either. “From your high school yearbook.”

  “Oh God, not the last one, please…,” Kris moaned, embarrassed. Two years ago, he’d been in his flashy gay mode as he’d made the transition from high school to college. Remembering clearly the photo-shoot day, Kris had an awkward recollection of images where he stood grinning like an idiot just out of a lunatic asylum with his black jeans, black T-shirt, and steel jewelry all over his then rail-thin body in what he nowadays thought of as his Goth punk phase—not to mention metaphorically flipping a finger to his high school and all its drama on his way out.

  Rafe chuckled low. “What’s wrong with it? I thought you looked very nice.” Laughing a little louder now, he added humorously, “Although you do wear a lot of… black.”

  His cheeks coloring to beet red, Kris cleared his throat. “Look, I’m over and done with the whole Goth chapter of my life, and I rarely wear all black anymore. And I’ve beefed up some since I started playing college football.” Hesitating briefly, he added, a bit to rattle Rafe’s chain, “I’m more akin to Adam Lambert nowadays, appearance-wise.”

  There was a curious silence on the line. “Who?”

  Ouch. Kris grimaced. That translated to a lengthy educational period not just on popular culture but about himself as well. In passing, Kris wondered just how far out in the sticks Rafe actually lived, and why he didn’t have a firm knowledge of the current way of the world and its most famous stars and notable trends. Although, in Rafe’s defense, he probably had other priorities—like being a wolf and all.

  “Well, google him,” he suggested with a wicked grin. “Just try not to be too shocked, okay?”

  Without seeing him, Kris could’ve sworn Rafe was shaking his head, bemused, as he replied, “I’ll be sure to do that, honey.”

  Damn, Kris really liked Rafe calling him that, and realized in a flash how quickly he could grow accustomed to Rafe’s gentle, sexy banter and smart, arousing quips. His dick twitched again, its interest piqued. “So….” Kris made a keen effort to calm himself. “When can you tell me your full name?”

  “When you formally agree to meet me and sign a nondisclosure agreement provided by the NFL so that no matter what happens between us—whether we are mated or not—there will be serious legal ramifications if you reveal my identity to anyone. It’s standard procedure, I gather, or so my pa tells me.”

  Kris could’ve sworn Rafe sounded a little annoyed by this need for legal formalities, and it made him feel better for some reason. It made Kris feel like perhaps he wasn’t alone in the awareness of the strangeness of this situation. “Your father, uh…. Your mother is his… mate…?”

  “Yeah, they are true mates,” Rafe replied, and Kris heard the pride and the love there, as real as words written down. “He was born a werewolf, but she was a human. Pa convinced her to marry him almost on the spot. When they mated, he offered to bite her to make her a lycan, and she agreed because she loved him so much. The transformation doesn’t happen with every bite, you understand. There’s a ritual involved. Anyway, they love each other to bits. I guess that’s why I have three brothers and two sisters.”

  “Five siblings? God!” Kris barely managed to survive one brother.

  Rafe laughed, giving Kris’s groin a flash of heat. “They’re great. I’m lucky.”

  A companionable silence fell between them, and Kris found he liked this pleasant restful moment between them. But his curiosity won in the end. “So, Rafe… what do you look like?”

  “Specific measurements?” Rafe chuckled, and Kris’s blush deepened. “I’m six-four—”

  “Jesus, you’re a giant!” Kris exclaimed, comparing his mental image of Rafe with his own height of five-ten, and realizing his head would barely reach the guy’s shoulders.

  “Thanks… I think,” Rafe replied with adorable modesty. “I weigh about two fifteen—”

  “You’re in great shape, then,” Kris interjected dreamily as he imagined this stranger in front of him—and the picture was beginning to form and take a definite shape of masculine perfection, bulk of muscles and broad shoulders, wide chest and tall figure tapered down to the waist and hips. It was a very nice picture too—sex on a stick.

  “I ride a lot,” Rafe explained, then apparently thought better of it. “I mean I ride horses—not men.”

  Kris burst out laughing. “Good one. You… uh, never ride men…?”

  As if he was standing right in front of him, Kris could see Rafe grinning. “Maybe.” There was a pause, and Kris couldn’t wait to hear more as he wanted to see what his mate looked like through his mind’s eye. “The way my ma colorfully puts it, my hair is auburn, my eyes are hazel, and my skin is pretty tanned since I mainly work outdoors. If it were me doing the describing, I’d just say I’m brown in every respect. Is that enough of a description for you, honey?” The gentle teasing in Rafe’s voice made Kris’s heart skip a beat. “I see it must be, because your heart rate sped up.”

  Kris swallowed hard. “Y-you can hear that…?”

  “I am a lycan. I have excellent hearing.” Rafe ended his declaration with a low, seductive chuckle that made Kris’s cock jump in excitement. Please, God, don’t let him hear that. “So, Kris… do you think you might want to meet me at some point? Have I made a good impression?”

  All the notions and ideas and knowledge of this situation flashed in a flurry cavalcade of arousing images before his eyes, and Kris felt the answer instinctively. His reason swooped in to confirm what his heart already knew. “Yes.”

  Holding his breath anxiously, Kris listened to the silence that filled the line, like a loud booming sound, deafening in its implications. “All right, then,” Rafe said at last, sounding breathless, as though he’d just run a mile a minute, and his voice rose as he apparently was very giddy. “I’ll make the preparations for your arrival here and speak to the NFL rep—”

  “Wait, what?” Kris was flabbergasted for a second. “What do you mean? Make preparations for my arrival?”

  Rafe sounded surprised and confused as he said, “I thought you knew and understood my situation. Lycans are territorial, just like wolves. We have our pack lands, hunting grounds, and traveling routes. We rarely leave pack land, and never alone. Arranging for you to come here will be easier and far less hassle than me coming to you.”

  For an indeterminate time, Kris seemed to forget how to breathe. Things were suddenly moving at an alarming rate, speeding past the speed limit in fact. He’d assumed they would meet on neutral ground somewhere with a lot of people nearby so he couldn’t make a fool of himself and launch into Rafe’s arms before saying hello. Where the chance that he could suppress his growing infatuation and attraction with his mate would be higher than meeting on Rafe’s terms in a place where he’d have the home-field advantage.

  Now that small comfort zone was apparently stripped from him—and he wasn’t sure he could do that and confront his mate-to-be on Rafe’s terms instead of his own.

  “How did your kind find mates before, being so territorial and all?”

  Rafe paused, and Kris had a feeling the man understood he was stalling for time. “Well, modern technology has aided in tracking down mates
—”

  “Tracking?” Kris interjected, feeling more than a little like a wolf’s supper instead of a lifelong mate. “You make it sound more like hunting instead of courting.”

  “Yes, mating and hunting have symbolic and metaphorical similarities—especially among our kind,” Rafe confirmed, and from Kris’s point of view it sounded like Rafe had no specific emotional opinion about the matter, and he was just verifying facts like a good little student. To Kris it felt coldhearted, but he also realized he didn’t know enough to pass judgment.

  Kris could tell, however, that Rafe was holding something back. As he followed his train of thought to the end, he figured out what was not being said—and an unpleasant chill cooled his emerging feelings for this man on the other end of the line. “If we got together, I’d have to leave home and come live with you on your pack land. Isn’t that right?” He didn’t even bother hiding the sharp iciness of his tone this time.

  The silence meeting his words said it all, and Kris closed his eyes tightly to hold back tears and a scream and all the other violent eruptions simmering beneath the surface.

  “D-do you regret agreeing to meet with me?” Rafe’s tone had dropped to an all-time low, and frightened tremors were evident in his voice.

  Yes. Kris said nothing, unable to trust the stability of his own voice, feeling bad for Rafe, who was clearly suffering in his loveless loneliness, and then feeling bad for himself for letting their talk come this far—too far to stop the imminent train wreck ahead. The catastrophe of his life loomed ahead, and Kris started to panic, as if the walls were closing in on him as he was slowly stripped of his freedom and choices.

  “Do you… maybe… need some time… to think about this?”

  If only Kris could be sure the two of them could meet without being overwhelmed by the natural bond between them. If only he could make sure he’d still be able to hold his heart back from getting too involved instead of wearing his heart on his sleeve. If only he could count on his rational brain to reason his way out of any impending emotional jam that would surely follow their encounter. If only he could have some confidence that the passing of time and the distance of space between them would be enough to erase whatever emotional disaster awaited him if he found that he just couldn’t make the kind of all-out commitment Rafe seemed to be expecting of him.