***
Two glorious days with his Alpha, his mate, his Gareth. Sochar had enjoyed them tremendously, both the day they'd spent at the lake and the day in Gareth's home -- their home for he lived there now, too.
Sochar didn't want them to end, he didn't want to have to face the pack, Greta's hostility and inevitable fights for spot as top dog that would come. The other males would see him as a weakness in Gareth and would challenge Gareth. Sochar knew he had to prove himself, both as Sochar's mate and as second. For that was the place he knew was his, by Gareth's side, that hole left when Ben had been killed.
So when Gareth headed out to check over the tribe, Sochar followed, tail high, feeling very strong and very proud for such a young dog, just out of puphood.
His mother greeted him, tail wagging, eyes bright. Son! Bright morning!
He bounce and ran around her, barking loudly. Yes! Yes! Bright morning!
Then he returned to Gareth's side, trying to look dignified. Trying very hard to look dignified. His friends stared at him, wide-eyed and barking. The elders looked too, some approving.
Some not.
Gareth didn't seem to mind one way or the other.
He tried to be cool like Gareth was, like it wasn't anything special, it just was. But then it would hit him again -- he was Gareth's mate -- and his backside would wiggle like crazy and he'd whine happily.
Gareth looked back at him, eyes so warm, happy in a deep, quiet way. And that was how he knew it didn't matter what the others thought or that Gareth wasn't bouncy happy like he was, because Gareth felt it all the way inside.
He did, too, but it was still so new and he wasn't as experienced as his Alpha yet and he couldn't keep it all in, he just couldn't. It exploded out of him in another burst of energy and he ran to a group of his agemates, barking and laughing with them for a few moments before going back to Gareth's side.
Greta came over, tall and fine in her human form, staring at him. "Have you finished playing with your pup, Gareth?"
Gareth's teeth bared and he growled, facing her down, the offense obvious. Sochar resisted the urge to press closer to Gareth's side and remained still, proud beside his Alpha. This was his place and if she challenged him, he would fight. His own growl was much softer than Gareth's, not tentative so much as soft. Fight with her he would, but he had no desire to do so.
She backed away, head ducking, acquiescing. Gareth would tolerate no questions, no challenge. He belonged by Gareth's side. Her acceptance seemed to spark the same in the others who were unhappy and soon everyone went back to their business, the issue seeming settled.
Gareth touched noses with everyone -- young and old alike -- greeting and querying them. Sochar followed behind, touching noses with his agemates, his dam and giving the others respectful nods.
His closest agemate, a tiny female named Rana came up, chuffing, full of questions. Her eyes were just dancing. There had been a time when many had thought they might mate, though he had known in his own heart it would not be, as had Rana. She'd always known where his eyes strayed. He rubbed her muzzle with his own, happy to still share friendship with her.
She looked up at Gareth, then back to him. Then she bounced away a little. Come play?
Two days ago he would have gone and played happily, but he didn't even hesitate to shake his head. He was Gareth's mate now, his place was at the Alpha's side. Her eyes got sad and Gareth turned to her, nuzzling and greeting her, making her shiver and preen.
Oh, he would have to watch Gareth closer, learn how he did that, for it was more than just attention from the Alpha that had her shivering and preening. Gareth made her feel seen, special, wanted. Sochar knew that feeling well.
He gazed at Gareth, so proud of his mate that he thought he might burst from it. Then those eyes turned on him, loving him, holding him. The rest of the world disappeared when Gareth looked at him like that and he moved close, whining softly, rubbing their flanks together.
Gareth slid their cheeks together, the scent of love and need strong in the air. He whimpered, wanting, needing. It hardly took anything to make him need Gareth so much. Gareth's eyes looked to the forest. Run with me.
He barked sharply. He would. He would follow Gareth anywhere. His mate ran for the woods, muscles working, tail held high. He gave chase, holding back for a moment or two to admire his mate before his instincts led him to put on speed and catch up.
Gareth leapt, shivering visibly. Wanting him. Tempting him.
He put back his head and howled, he was so happy. And then he gave chase, following Gareth deeper into the woods, nearly catching him time and again.
Gareth led him into a clearing, panting, head tossing. He took his shot, leaping at Gareth, barreling them both over onto the ground. Gareth morphed, arching beneath him, bowed and rubbing.
Oh. Oh! He morphed as well, the change coming so much easier now, and he rubbed against Gareth, their skin sliding warmly together.
"Mmm... love. Love. My ves'tacha." Gareth panted, groaning low.
"Yours, Gareth. Oh." He kept rubbing, his cock sliding along Gareth's belly and it made him gasp every time their cocks rubbed together.
"Yes. Mine." Gareth bucked up, hips driving harder, faster.
"Oh, Gareth, I'll come soon." He had never come so much as he had the last few days.
"Do you wish to wait?" His ves'tacha teased so.
"No!" He shook his head, moving faster. "Oh, no, Gareth."
Gareth groaned, nipped his jaw. "Good. Good, pup. Want you, so badly."
"You have me."
He nodded and then his eyes went wide as he came, pleasure moving through him and shooting from his cock. Gareth howled, pushed against him, so hot, panting.
He kept rubbing, watching Gareth's face, the line of his neck. His. His. Gareth was his.
The lean hips pressed into him, Gareth beginning to shake and shiver. Bending, he followed his instincts and wrapped his lips around Gareth's neck, marking his mate.
Gareth's cry echoed, his mate's seed pouring out against him. The scent was something he was beginning to know and he whimpered as it made him jerk.
"Ves'tacha." Gareth groaned low, eyes just rolling.
"Ves'tacha." He nodded. He liked the sound of it, the way it made him feel inside.
"Yes. Mine." Gareth's eyes just danced. "We should hunt. Run. Play."
He nodded. "Anything you want. I just want to be with you."
Gareth kissed him. "Yes. Yes, the bond wants sealing, wants to grow."
"Sealing? It isn't sure yet?"
"There has never been anything so sure."
He beamed and nodded and bounced up, morphing and pouncing Gareth.
"My mate!" Gareth laughed, fingers scratching him.
He barked twice. Yes! Yes!
He was petted, loved on, stroked, Gareth grooming and adoring him. It had never occurred to him that it would be nice to be like this, one human, the other beast, sharing in a different way. He whined and licked at the mark his human mouth had left on Gareth's neck.
"Beautiful boy. Beautiful one." Gareth's voice poured over him, warm and wanton.
He licked Gareth's face, so happy, so happy.
"Love you. My ves'tacha." Over and over Gareth spoke to him, adored him.
Finally he morphed again, skin on skin again, his own soft whispers sharing his love for Gareth. Gareth kissed him, eyes alight and shining, hands sliding over his skin.
"Your touches are magic. You make me want so much. So much," he told Gareth, rubbing again.
"That is because the moon made you for me."
"Oh, you are magic." Gareth's words were like his touches, magical, wonderful.
"I am yours." Gareth rubbed up against him, hand on his buttocks, pulling him down.
He whimpered, Gareth's hand on his ass making him shiver and push back into it. Which brought him rocking forward again and soon he found a rhythm, forward and back and it felt so good. Gareth panted, thighs cradling him, holding him ti
ght.
"I just want and want and want, Gareth. I could do this forever."
"Yes. I have waited for you, so long."
"I'm glad you waited. Even if it wasn't fair you didn't have a mate until now." He didn't want to be selfish and he wanted his Gareth to be happy, but Gareth was his.
"There was no question. None other. Only you. We mate for life."
Sochar nodded and put back his head to howl, the sound odd from his human throat. Gareth leaned forward, mouth fastening on his throat. He howled again, the sensation of being marked by his mate so very right. It was like there was a connection between Gareth's mouth on his neck and his cock, singing through him.
He could hear Gareth's mind, the whispers of 'mine' and 'ves'tacha' and 'beloved.'
He rocked and rocked and then he came, again, because there was no other way to express the great joy inside him.
Gareth held him, rocked him gently.
"Oh, love. Love." He repeated the word over and over, clinging to his mate.
"Yes, mate. Yes." Gareth comforted him, balanced him, the intensity easing.
He curled up with his mate, his ves'tacha and let go of his human form, tail wagging slowly, soft rumbling purrs coming from him.
Gareth's muzzle landed, sure and soft on the back of his neck.
He whined softly, happily, at peace.
***
Sochar pulled the water off the fire and added the dried berries and mint to it and set it on the hearth to steep.
He double checked the windows again, making sure they were airtight and then went to the pantry, pulling down the cookies he'd made, munching on one as he went over the rest of the pantry's contents. The larder was next, the trapdoor in the pantry leading to the cold room where the meat was stored.
He slammed the trapdoor closed and shifted into the wolf, growling as he paced.
Something was wrong and he didn't know what.
He should be settling in -- he had everything he needed set away, the cabin was fortified. Winter would be long and slow, but warm and comfortable. He should be feeling easy in his bones, becoming lazy, instead he was pacing, uncomfortable, itchy under his skin.
Well, fur.
He padded to the door and hit the release with his head, carefully sniffing as he went out.
The scent of fresh blood hit him like a wave, coppery and rich and strong, drawing him toward the trees. He loped toward the scent, hackles rising, a low warning growl in his throat.
The thick snow gave way as he hit the trees, the snow cover here thinner. There was a copse of trees, thin and bare, rocks offering a bare shelter.
A deep growl sounded, rough and raw, a clear warning. He answered angrily. This was his land. He'd taken himself away from the pack, he expected to have his boundaries respected. It did slow him though and he continued on more carefully.
A bark now, sharp, firm. Back off. Stop. Go away.
He snapped back. His territory. His. If there was a kill made here, it belonged to him.
There was the oddest sound, a mix of whimper and grunt, a noise almost familiar. Then a thin, dark muzzle lifted, ice-blue eyes meeting his own.
Gareth.
He stopped, growl stuck in his throat as the memories flooded him. He and Gareth running together, loving, hunting, fighting.
He shifted, shivering as his bare feet hit the snow. "Gareth."
Gareth bowed his head, lips curling, baring those sharp teeth. Sharp bloody teeth. Those eyes watched him, clung to him.
Sochar looked around; there was no kill.
"You're hurt." His voice was low, husky from disuse.
Gareth rumbled, then shifted, eyes meeting his. "I wanted to see you once more."
"Why?" Damn it, he didn't need this.
He was happy.
Well. Content.
Not unhappy.
There was a soft chuff, almost a laugh. "Because I'm an old fool."
Then Gareth shifted again, just fading into fur and fangs and claws. Those blue eyes stared at him for a long, silent moment, then the wolf stood, turning to limp into the trees, back legs dragging.
Fuck.
He shifted and gave chase, circling until he was in front of Gareth.
Gareth growled, fur ruffling, trying to intimidate, to appear bigger. He growled back softly, rubbing his muzzle along Gareth's. Come on, old man, you're in no shape to fight me, don't make me hurt you.
Those blue eyes closed, Gareth leaning towards him for a heartbeat. He licked at Gareth's muzzle, growling at the taste of blood and pain.
He nudged Gareth to turn, head back to his cabin. Gareth stumbled, nuzzling him, nose touching his in a motion achingly familiar, the wolf's nose hot, dry. He whimpered, licking Gareth's nose; his mate was really sick.
He shifted. "I'll carry you."
Gareth snarled, shaking and trying to hold himself upright, then with a soft groan, Gareth slumped into the snow.
Damn that beast's pride.
He lifted Gareth in his arms, surprised by how little Gareth weighed. He made a broken sound in the back of his throat and started to run, cursing his human legs as they cleared the trees and the snow became deeper. His arm was licked, Gareth's eyes rolling, the thin body relaxing. Sochar whimpered again and moved more quickly.
The sun was nearly gone by the time he made it to the cabin and he was gasping, sweating; he couldn't feel his feet. He brought Gareth over to the fire, laying his mate down in front of it.
Gareth lived, breath coming in shallow pants. His mate's hindquarters were dark, pelt matted with blood and he could see evidence of a fight, the flesh torn and bitten.
He probably should have boiled water and cleaned the wounds out, but instinct took over and he shifted, tongue working to clean the wounds. Gareth's flavor exploded over his tongue, so familiar, so necessary, so missed. So many years since they had separated, Gareth leaving him the pack, the pups. Leaving him behind.
And now Gareth was back, but leaving him once again.
Sochar raised his head and howled, let his anger and pain and fear and sorrow out.
And then he went back to cleaning Gareth's wounds, determined not lose Gareth to this. If his mate was going to leave him again, let it be on all fours, running and free in the wind. Soft grunts and whimpers sounded, filled the air, assuring him that his mate still lived, his mate still breathed.
He cleaned the wound for hours, days, or maybe only minutes. And when Gareth's wound was thoroughly cleaned he began to lick the rest of his mate, using his teeth to work out knots and twigs and bugs that were caught in the dark silver fur. He ended the cleaning at Gareth's muzzle and settled next to his mate, pressed close, whimpering softly.
Gareth nuzzled him, then curled into him, the low sounds instinctive, intended to comfort, to ease. He had heard those sounds in one form or another his entire life. He licked at Gareth's muzzle again, tongue sliding across the dry nose.
Mate. The word rang within him, surprising him, scaring him. In the end Gareth had rarely reached for him in that way, rarely allowed the defenses that surrounded the Alpha to drop.
He leapt up, barking sharply.
Gareth looked up at him. Love. Mate. So proud.
A wash of emotions slammed over him, pleasure and sorrow, pain and joy, admiration and love. All the things Gareth had held behind that wall of duty and Pack, offered freely, completely. Then they stopped, Gareth's eyes falling shut.
No!
He pounced Gareth, pushing at his mate. Gareth's eyes fluttered open, a soft growl sounding.
He shifted, fingers digging into Gareth's fur. "Stay."
Sochar. Nowhere else could his name mean so much, be filled with so much history, so much emotion.
He started into the ice-blue eyes, pouring himself into his mate. Stay. Gareth. Mine. Stay.
Gareth whined softly, that tail thumping on the floor once or twice, expressing pleasure. Stay.
He nodded. "Thank you."
He stroked Gareth's fur, rubbi
ng the muzzle, Gareth's flanks. Gareth relaxed beneath his touch, sinking into a deep, silent sleep, the thin chest rising and falling with silent breaths.
He stayed there for a long time, holding and petting his mate with human hands, trusting that Gareth would keep his word, would stay. Then he let the beast take him again and lay curled with Gareth, muzzles resting together on Gareth's front paws.
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