With a full belly, he’d found a quiet, shallow cave to settle in for the night. As he lay there waiting for sleep to claim him, however, his thoughts turned invariably to Tanner. Had Tanner shifted and gone running? What was he doing now? Did his mate miss him?
He whined softly, rolling and resettling, wishing he’d been able to not think about Tanner. He tried to focus instead on the cool mountain air, the soft forest sounds, and finally, a long time later, he fell asleep.
TWO DAYS later, Finley lay once more in the sun in his clearing, his head on his paws, ears drooping. He knew he needed to get back. His grandparents would start worrying about him, and while Grandpaw could come look for him, he shouldn’t force the issue.
He just didn’t want to move.
He was hungry. He should go hunt or go home and eat there. He should go clean up. He should do a lot of things. But the truth was, he was missing his mate so much, he couldn’t seem to get himself to do anything.
He was being ridiculous; the human part of him knew that. It wasn’t like they’d split permanently. He’d made the decision to leave, after all.
But his wolf didn’t seem to be willing to consider that. The ache of them being apart was much sharper than he’d ever thought it would be. He didn’t understand why it felt so physical or so deep.
He’d never heard of it being like this. Then again, Finley tried to think of an instance where a mated pair separated—and not because of death—for any period of time. But for the life of him, he couldn’t think of any. He knew the bond could be broken, but he didn’t know of any who had. And while he and Tanner hadn’t mated fully, hadn’t claimed each other, they did already have a bond.
He huffed at his thoughts, closing his eyes, and tried to simply enjoy the sun. He ignored his grumbling stomach again, but before he could settle, he caught a new scent in his clearing.
He opened his eyes to see a light-colored wolf sitting on the other end. He lifted his head, sniffed again, and sure enough, it was a shifter. Finley didn’t recognize the scent, but he was sure there was more than one new shifter in the pack since he’d left.
The wolf’s mouth was open, tongue lolling out the side, looking for all the world like it was grinning at him in that odd way wolves had. It was obviously watching him and Finley sat up, annoyed that his peace had been disturbed. He let loose a soft growl, trying to let the other wolf know he didn’t want company.
Instead, the wolf trotted over to him, plopped down in front of him, and barked. Then he went back to the wolf-grin.
If Finley had been in human form, he’d have rolled his eyes. As it was, he growled softly again, then huffed and flopped back down. He rested his head on his paws once more and closed his eyes. Hopefully, the other wolf would get the hint.
No, Finley couldn’t be that lucky. The other wolf nipped at Finley’s ear, making him look up again. Finley glared, got up and moved away, lying down with his back to the other wolf.
Yet again, it didn’t work. A wet nose nudged his neck, and Finley looked up and snapped at it. Leave me alone! Some days he really wished he could talk in this form.
Duh. He could shift.
But he didn’t want to. He just wanted the other wolf to go away.
He expected to get snapped at in response. Or growled at. He didn’t expect what he did get: a big, wet lick on the side of the face.
What the hell was it going to take? He blinked at the other wolf for another long moment, then shook himself. The other wolf actually grabbed Finley’s ear with his teeth and tugged. It was gentle, but unmistakable.
But Finley didn’t want to play. He wanted to be left in his own misery.
The wolf didn’t seem to be willing to give up, though, and when he licked Finley again, Finley realized he wasn’t able to hold on to his bad mood anymore. He jumped up, growled while wagging his tail a little, then tilted his head toward the trees.
The other wolf considered him for a few more seconds, then with a nip to Finley’s neck, took off running.
Finley gave chase, grudgingly admitting to himself he was glad he gave in. The run felt good, and the other wolf didn’t seem to be holding back at all. They raced through the trees, dodging logs and branches, scaring small animals and birds. They splashed past the chattering river otters, huffing when they yelled again.
The other wolf did a quick stop and raised his nose to the air, sniffing. He looked over at Finley, who did the same and realized what the wolf caught. Elk.
The other wolf asked if he wanted to go after it by tilting his head in the direction of the scent. Finley gave a nod and they took off again, this time together, following the scent. When they got close, Fin glanced at the other wolf and twitched his head to the right. He got a nod and head tilt to the left in reply, and then they split and crept in silently.
He didn’t think they could have timed it better if they’d been able to communicate telepathically. Together, the elk didn’t stand a chance. One second it was standing, grazing, minding its own business, and the next it was dead.
Neither wolf focused on anything for a while except eating. Finley was so hungry, he didn’t realize how much of it he’d taken, but the other wolf didn’t seem to mind. When they’d finished and cleaned up in the stream, Finley flopped down on the bank.
This time the other wolf didn’t try to pull him away. Instead, he lay down, curling up against Finley. Finley paused, not sure if he should, but the wolf need for touch overrode any doubts and he settled in. They were a touchy group; wolves liked to be close to other wolves. So Finley did his best to ignore his worries and take the comfort. A short time later, they both fell asleep.
He didn’t know what time it was when they woke, but the sun was sinking. Finley’s melancholy had faded, and he knew it was time to go back. The other wolf was still there, and when they sat up, Finley tilted his head toward his grandparents’ house, hoping the other guy would get the hint; then he started walking back.
The guy kept pace with him, not pushing. When they got to the back porch, Finley shook one more time, then nudged his wolf back, who, after being out for so long, was happy enough to retreat. A moment later, he crouched, naked, next to a young blond guy about his own age.
“Jamie?” Finley guessed.
He nodded, grinning. “That’s me. They tell you about me?”
Finley found himself smiling. “Nice to meet you. Grammy mentioned it. Got clothes here?” Finley asked, looking Jamie over as they stood. They seemed to be built about the same—same height, same lean muscles. He couldn’t resist taking note of the lightly tanned skin, deep blue eyes, or uncut flaccid cock, which looked to be just slightly bigger than his own both in length and thickness. He dragged his eyes away and back up to Jamie’s face, cheeks coloring at the smirk there. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to looking at other naked shifters—he was. He wasn’t used to getting caught staring, however.
“Good to meet you too. And no, I’m afraid not. I shifted at Alpha Todd’s.”
Finley nodded, standing and working to forget his embarrassment at being caught looking. “That’s cool. I’ve got some should fit you, if you want. I’m sure Grammy wants to know you’re okay too.”
“Yeah, I don’t mind being naked, but not if no one else is.”
Finley laughed, leading the way into the house. “Grammy!”
“Oh good. I was getting worried!” she called from the living room.
Finley stopped in the doorway and smiled his most charming smile. “Sorry.”
She waved it off. “I put your stuff in the second bedroom, if you want to get dressed.”
“Yeah, I should. Uh… I met Jamie,” he said, feeling a little silly as he waved at the man next to him.
“No, really?” she asked, and he rolled his eyes.
“Uh… come on,” he said, ignoring her and shaking his head. She’d unpacked his stuff—to his supreme embarrassment because he’d had lube in one of the pockets—so his clothes were in his dresser. He tried not to thi
nk about it and instead dug into his drawers. He found sweats for both of them and T-shirts to go with them, and when they were both dressed, they went back downstairs. They ended up in the kitchen, and he held up the coffee pot. When Jamie nodded, he took down two mugs, poured them each some, and they took seats at the table.
Finley sighed and frowned down at his cup. “Thank you,” he said, not quite knowing how else to begin.
“Nothing to thank me for. I had fun.”
“Me too. Though….” He looked up and couldn’t resist a half smile. “I didn’t want to.”
“I kinda caught that,” Jamie said, grinning.
“I was an ass.” Finley made a face.
Jamie held up a hand. “No big. They didn’t tell me what was wrong exactly, just said you’d be in a bad mood.”
Finley laughed. “That’s an understatement.” He shook his head. “Yeah, I’ve got… stuff.” He wrinkled his nose, deciding to get it over with. “I have a destined mate that doesn’t want me.”
Jamie winced. “Ouch.”
“I might be… overstating it a little. I mean… I don’t know for sure, actually.”
“You don’t know if he’s your mate?” Jamie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, no. I know that. I don’t… I mean, he won’t claim me.”
Jamie blinked. “Why the fuck not?”
“He says I’m too young,” Finley said with a frown.
“Uh… how old are you?”
Finley chuckled. “Eighteen.”
“Err… then… I guess I don’t get it?”
“Yeah, me either.” Finley gave a mirthless laugh and rubbed his face. He dropped his hands and considered Jamie and, with a sigh, the whole mess came tumbling out, all the frustration, rejection, and fear. He hadn’t meant to spill it, but Jamie’s reply kept him from feeling bad for letting it out.
“Well, in my partially uninformed opinion… he’s a fucking idiot.”
Finley couldn’t resist a smile at that. “Thanks.” He shook his head.
Jamie studied him for a moment. “You looking for someone out here?”
Finley frowned. “I don’t know, to be honest. That’s what I told him, but I don’t… I don’t know if I could actually do it.”
Jamie nodded, staring into his coffee cup. “Well, I’d love to be friends, for sure. If you’d like to date….” He shrugged a shoulder, and Finley caught the color in his cheeks.
“If I’m going to, you’ll be the first to know,” Finley assured him.
The grin was back. “Cool. How long are you staying?”
Finley shook his head. “No clue yet. I’m supposed to start the University of Pittsburgh in August. But if Tanner doesn’t change his mind, I’m considering signing up at EOU.”
“That’s where I go. That’d be cool.”
Finley smiled. “I don’t know, though. I’m just going to take it a little bit at a time. Try to give myself time to not, like, dwell. I don’t know.” He paused and glanced at his new friend then away again. “Maybe try a date to see what happens.” He couldn’t stop himself from looking back up at Jamie, who nodded.
“We could do that.” He smiled. “Why don’t we? Nothing has to happen, if you don’t want it to. We’ll get something to eat, maybe see a movie. If it’s uncomfortable or something, we’ll just call it friends hanging out.”
Finley considered him a minute, then nodded. “I’d like that. I’ve, uh, never dated. Well, except Tanner.” His cheeks reddened. “I met Tanner before I had a chance to, so….”
“That’s cool.” Jamie grinned. “Great. Uh… I work at the Starbucks over on Wallowa Lake most days since it’s summer, but I’m off in the evenings. How about Thursday? Give you a chance to unpack and stuff?”
“That sounds good.” Finley let out a breath. “I could use a friend.”
“Well, you’ve got that, at least.”
Finley smiled, feeling like he just might be okay, one way or the other.
Chapter Six
TANNER HAD shifted and gone running every evening of the last five days since Finley left home. It’d only been five days, and he was already going more than a little crazy.
He’d sat down each morning like he normally did to do his freelance computer projects, along with work for his family’s leatherworking business, trying to bring it into the computer age. He’d gone to school for information technology and business so he could do this—and keep it going.
He’d bounced from project to project, unable to focus for long on any one thing. His clients had been, for the most part, patient and understanding when he’d had to reschedule meetings. He knew he wasn’t up to facing anyone in his current state.
That wouldn’t last forever. He’d have to meet with them sooner or later, and he’d need to have progress to show them.
He had work to do. He was an adult, dammit, with a human side capable of overcoming the animal instincts and urges of his wolf. He needed to get a grip and find his focus again.
Aside from the freelance projects he had, the current work for his family’s business involved computerizing all their records. His grandparents had passed the business to his parents, who still managed it after some twenty years. But in all those years, they’d stuck with their paper recordkeeping, bookkeeping, inventory, and so on. If he wanted it to continue to do well—and, thus, for the pack to do well, since it helped support the pack—he needed to get them out of their ancient practices and into current day so they could grow.
The pack certainly had. When his grandfather had taken over as alpha some fifty years ago, there’d only been about thirty people in the pack. Now, more than twenty years into his father’s stint as alpha, they’d nearly doubled that number. Some had moved in, like Finley’s family, but they’d certainly also had plenty of births. With their lifespan so long, even with some moving away, that meant population increase.
The leatherworking business provided jobs, income, and resources for their pack. As future alpha, Tanner felt it was his duty to protect, nurture, and grow that for them.
He was trying to build the systems he’d need for the move to computerized recordkeeping, and it was a long, daunting process. He didn’t want to buy something already done—he had the knowledge to do it himself—so it meant work, which he certainly didn’t mind doing. But it took a lot of mental energy to plan and work things out, and he hadn’t been able to concentrate for more than a few minutes at a time.
All he’d been able to think about was Finley.
The ache he’d felt five days ago had magnified even more. If he let himself dwell on it, his chest hurt and he had trouble breathing. And if he didn’t manage to stop it at that point, he’d have tears. Which he didn’t do. Tanner was not a crier. He’d been influenced too much by his alpha father. So it did not sit well with him to realize his emotions were that close to the surface just being away from his mate for five days.
It was ridiculous. It hadn’t been an issue when Finley had been back there, in their hometown. But with the argument they’d had before Finley left, he didn’t know if it was simply the physical or the emotional distance causing this.
Wolves, as a rule, didn’t spend time away from their mates. Tanner didn’t know if that was because they didn’t have reason to. Or if it was as physically painful for them as it was for him—making it clear this was a physical thing. Or if it was because they simply made a point to not be apart.
The thought brought Tanner up short. Do I even have a mate, after all? Or have I chased him away while trying to make sure I didn’t lose him?
His emotional state meant his wolf had been much closer to the surface too. Even running every evening hadn’t been enough. By the time he’d gotten through the afternoon, it felt like his wolf was trying to claw through his skin.
But running wasn’t the release it usually was. That first night had been the best. Since then, he just noticed how he didn’t have someone to run with like he usually did. He didn’t have Finley there to hunt w
ith, bring down the bigger game. He didn’t have someone to curl up with late in the night and rest.
He glared at the pile of papers on his desk as if they were the cause of his problems. He shook his head at himself, picked up his pen, and tried to make sense of the notes he’d made for his latest website project. But the words swam in front of him, and even after rubbing his eyes, he couldn’t seem to focus.
He gave up for a moment, snatched up his coffee mug, and went into his kitchen. He stuck the mug in the one-cup brewer, hit the button, then leaned against the counter. He rubbed his face hard as the coffee brewed and wondered if Finley would pick up the phone if he called.
He’d called once, two days ago, but Finley’s phone had been off. Not knowing if that was to avoid him or for some other reason, Tanner hadn’t tried again. He didn’t want to push too far, but he did need to try to talk to Finley about this.
He just didn’t know where to start. He’d thought Finley understood the reasons he had for waiting. He knew Finley was frustrated; Tanner wasn’t immune to it himself. But he didn’t think it’d been that bad.
His dick didn’t agree, but he refused to let it be his guide. He could deal with a little—okay, a lot—of sexual frustration to avoid the mess mating too soon could cause.
With a sigh, Tanner took the coffee and went back to his desk. He looked at his cell phone and frowned, trying to decide what to do.
Entirely aside from the pull of his wolf, his human side missed his mate too. He missed Finley’s smile, missed touching him, missed holding him. He missed just listening to Finley go on about how—cheesy 1981 special effects aside—he thought John Landis was a genius when he made the quintessential werewolf movie, which he would then go on and compare to all his other favorite werewolf movies.
Tanner decided to give in… part way.
He pulled up Finley’s messages and sent a simple Really missing you. Hope you’re ok. And left it at that.
He sat down and glared at his computer, trying to force himself back into his work.
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