by Casey Wolfe
“Mmm, this is great,” Shaw commented on the coffee. He admittedly shouldn’t have doubted the elves. “Thalas is the big elven city here, right?”
“It’s their seat of culture,” Rowan confirmed. “It’s a ways from here. Past the Southern Hills.”
Caleb hummed mildly, but his face was pinched with tension.
“Something wrong?” Shaw asked, feeling waves of bitterness flowing off of Caleb.
“No.”
Well, that was an outright lie. He looked to Rowan.
“Caleb’s from the Southern Hills Pack.”
“Oh.” Shaw looked back at Caleb. The set jaw and flared nostrils were enough to tell it was a sour subject, even without the negative waves flowing off him.
“Left them a long time ago,” Caleb muttered. “Shouldn’t be such a big deal.”
“No one leaves pack easily,” Shaw reasoned.
“I did.” Caleb licked his lips, frustration added to the mix of emotion in the air. “Or I thought I did. Cut ties with everyone, except my little brother, Kyle.”
Shaw knew it wasn’t his place to pry, but he wanted to know Caleb better. He was such a big piece of Rowan’s life, and if Shaw wanted to be a part of that, well, he was bound to find out at some point or other. “What happened?”
Caleb’s honey eyes flicked to Rowan for a moment, then met Shaw’s. “I ran away. I was nineteen.”
“That’s rough.”
“Not as rough as living there.” Caleb paused. “I’m an Alpha.”
Shaw blinked. He hadn’t expected anything like that. Caleb wasn’t like any alphas he’d ever met, whether status-earned or bred—after all, there was a difference. While any werewolf could rise to lead a pack as an alpha, a born Alpha was a step above. Centuries of special breeding had created a type of werewolf that was naturally faster and stronger, who possessed powers unique from other wolves.
“Given your lack of pack,” Shaw ventured, “I’m guessing you mean the born kind.”
“Unfortunately.” Caleb scoffed and took a sip of his drink before continuing. “My dad’s an Alpha too. Tried breeding his own little empire of Alphas, but I’m it.”
“I can guess the pressure,” Shaw sympathized.
“Yeah, times it by ten. I had zero interest in leading the pack, but I was being groomed for it. There was an expectation for me to take a mate—a female, of course. Try to make more Alphas to ‘strengthen the pack.’” A growl played on Caleb’s lips, but he reined it in when Danais returned with their food.
Alone again, Shaw said, “So, you decided to leave.”
“It was the only choice I had. I wasn’t going to be his puppet. I wasn’t going to deny who I was. All my preparation meant I wasn’t leaving much behind anyway. I was never allowed to be close to anyone. All I had was my brother.”
“Do you see him?”
“Occasionally. My parents know we’re in contact. As of yet, they haven’t done anything to stop us or to try and find out where I am. Not that Kyle knows. We meet in neutral locations, away from the city. Otherwise, our sole communication is by phone or email.”
“I can’t imagine…” Shaw shook his head. “I don’t have any siblings. My folks— It’s not that we’re on bad terms, but we don’t really talk much. My friends have always been my family.”
Caleb’s shoulders drooped, strands of his royal-blue hair falling in his face. “And now you’ve moved away from them.”
“Yeah.” Shaw looked down at his untouched food. He was surprised when Caleb laid a hand on his. Looking back up at him, Caleb appeared to be forcing a half smile on his face.
“Well, you’ve got us.”
Shaw managed a brief upturn of his lips.
Caleb nodded to Rowan. “This one found me shortly after I got to town. Been mine ever since.”
Rowan smirked. “Not like I could leave you looking all sad.” To Shaw, he said, “He’s got some mean puppy eyes.”
Shaw laughed along with Caleb. Feeling a bit more at ease—and sensing the same echoing from Caleb—Shaw started to eat. “Damn, this is great.”
“Right?” Caleb’s mouth was stuffed with his own sandwich.
“Swallow first,” Rowan chastised.
Caleb’s grin was lewd. “Usually do.”
“Goddess, how do I put up with you?”
“We’re still trying to figure that out.”
Shaw laughed again, asking Caleb, “Aren’t you too old to be making such horrible puns?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Ouch. You make me feel old.” At Caleb’s raised brow, Shaw confessed, “Thirty-three.”
“Yup, old as dirt.”
Shaw laughed even louder that time. Caleb’s blunt delivery was simply too much. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”
There was no missing the way Rowan was grinning as he looked between them, despite how he attempted to hide it.
“Y’know,” Caleb mentioned, “full moon’s in a couple nights. You should come out to Ro’s.”
“Oh?” Shaw raised a brow. “Am I to be the official sacrifice?”
“You got it.” Caleb winked.
“In all seriousness, though,” Shaw checked, “will you be fine with me being there? With me not being pack and all?”
Over time, were-creatures could learn to control a full moon shift to varying degrees. Until then, they were wild and unpredictable. It was why many were-creatures in urban settings wore anti-shift collars or spent time in special full moon facilities. Not all of them lived in the wilds, in packs or clowders or other types of clan groups.
“You’re safe,” Caleb assured. “My mind’s my own.”
“That’s debatable.” Shaw smirked.
Rowan wasn’t even trying to hide his smile now. Caleb muttered for him to “shut up,” despite Rowan not saying a word.
“Yeah, stop being so chatty.” Shaw nudged Rowan’s arm.
“Need I remind you both,” Rowan mentioned, “I’m currently practicing curses?”
“Not it,” Shaw replied at the same time Caleb said, “Kill him first.”
The conversation devolved quickly after that into mindless banter. Overall, Shaw considered it a successful day.
Chapter Seven
THE GROUND BENEATH Shaw’s back was slightly damp. Above him, late morning sunlight cut through the leaves of the trees. Birds were chirping, and a sparrow was hopping from one branch to the next within his view.
Shaw took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Smiling, he commented, “This is really nice.”
“Can’t beat it,” Rowan agreed. He was lying on the ground beside Shaw, while Caleb lay at Shaw’s other side.
It had been a long night of literally running around in the forest. Rowan and Shaw had no hope of keeping up with Caleb’s leggy wolf form, but it had been fun, nonetheless. They had stopped for food and naps—twice—a large gray wolf making quite a comfortable pillow. Despite knowing he was going to be feeling it for the next few days, Shaw was grateful to have been invited along for the full moon.
They were behind the cottage, the scent of baking bread drifting from the open windows. “That smells so good, Ro,” Caleb whined, wiggling a little.
Rowan fished his phone from his pocket and said, “Still has another ten minutes. Then it’s gotta cool.”
“Gah!” Caleb groaned, rolling over to his stomach and bumping up against Shaw. “This is torture!”
Shaw chuckled, bringing a hand up to ruffle Caleb’s hair. “I think you’ll survive. Didn’t you have enough to eat already?”
Caleb pushed himself up onto his elbows and put on a faux glower. “Didn’t anyone tell you that wolves get hungry after a full moon shift?”
“One of my good friends is a wolf. So, yeah, I’ve seen how you blokes can put it away.”
Caleb blinked. He looked across Shaw, over to Rowan, and raised a brow.
“What?” Shaw defended. “I can’t have friends that are magicae?” Clearly, Rowan hadn’t mentioned the
squad.
“Makes sense, I guess,” Caleb said. “What with bein’ how you are to us.” He flipped his bangs out of his eyes.
“Just don’t tell him about the elf you know,” Rowan mentioned off-handedly.
“Elf?” Caleb perked up.
“Caleb has a thing for elves.”
“I don’t have a thing. They’re pretty, okay?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Shaw grinned. “Sorry, this one’s taken. He’s actually mated with said wolf, so…”
“Yeah?” Caleb smirked. “You just got a little more interesting, Shaw.”
He gave Caleb’s shoulder a shove, knocking him over onto his side. Caleb laughed in response.
Rowan teased, “I happen to think he was already interesting.”
Shaw grinned at him.
Caleb wasn’t having it, though. He huffed, crawling over Shaw in order to get to Rowan.
“Personal space?” Shaw griped.
“Nope.” To Rowan, Caleb asked, “More interesting than me?”
“Is there anyone more interesting than you?”
Shaw shook his head, watching the pair. It was no wonder people thought they were dating all the damn time. It didn’t help their cause when Caleb leaned in, rubbing their faces together. “I am one-of-a-kind.”
“I see how it is,” Shaw threw out. “I get my boyfriend stolen, hm?”
Rowan ducked his head, color on his cheeks. Caleb smirked, throwing his leg over Rowan pointedly. “Sorry, he’s mine,” Caleb declared, sitting there on Rowan’s lap. “I saw him first.” Rowan’s blush deepened.
Shaw laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Part of my charm.”
Shaw’s fingers drummed against Caleb’s thigh as he rolled onto his side. “Charm is one way to put it.” It was so tempting to use his empathic gifts, to increase Caleb’s pliability so that he’d continue approving of Shaw’s presence—and Shaw’s place in Rowan’s life. But, he refrained, fingers moving away.
Rowan inquired, “Since when are we boyfriends?” The look on his face was a little playful.
Shaw leaned in, pressing a kiss to Rowan’s jaw, murmuring, “Call it wishful thinking.” As he pulled away, he considered Rowan’s smile a success.
Caleb stuck his tongue out, making a noise. “Keep wishin’, Shaw. He’s mine until further notice.” Caleb sent him a sultry look. “Although… I’m up for sharing.”
“Oh, that’s it,” Rowan laughed. He canted his hips to the side, rolling him and Caleb. “You are horrible.”
“But, you love me.”
Rowan gave a long-suffering sigh. “Sadly, yes.”
Caleb was scenting with Rowan again, his tongue laving at Rowan’s jaw. Not only was Rowan allowing it, but he nuzzled his nose against Caleb’s cheek in return. Nor did Rowan fight it when Caleb rolled them back, pinning Rowan to the ground with his entire body. Rowan simply let Caleb snuggle, arms resting low around his waist.
Rowan’s head lolled to the side, lips quirking in amusement. His expression faltered, eyes flicking to Caleb and back to Shaw. “You’re not…? You’re not weirded out by this, right? Not upset?”
Shaw gave him a reassuring smile, reaching out to brush hair from Rowan’s face. “I think it’s sweet.”
Rowan smiled hesitantly. “Yeah? Lotta guys don’t get it” He bit his lip.
“They get jealous,” Caleb complained. “They don’t get pack.”
“Well, I’m not most people.” Shaw’s fingers threaded with Rowan’s, still resting on Caleb’s lower back.
“No,” Caleb agreed, “you’re not.”
Then, Caleb surprised Shaw by leaning over and rubbing their cheeks together. Caleb was scenting him, accepting him as pack. He knew full well what a big deal this was. Shaw moved his nose to nuzzle under Caleb’s jaw. “Thanks.”
Caleb’s laugh was a short huff. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep taking care of my Ro, and we’ll be good.”
Shaw chuckled. “Promise.”
“Do I get a say in this?” Rowan asked, amusement written on his face.
“Not really,” Shaw replied, while Caleb said, “Nope.”
Rowan smiled, shaking his head. “Dunno why I put up with either of you.” His phone chimed, Caleb sliding off of him—and flopping over onto Shaw in the process—so Rowan could get it. “Ah, bread should be done.”
“What are we waiting for?” Caleb dragged both of them to their feet, before jogging off toward the cottage.
Shaw looked over at Rowan, finding he was already gazing back. He felt himself being lost in violet eyes. Not for the first time, Shaw had to wonder if he was the only one with the ability to charm somebody—it sure seemed like Rowan had done something to him, which was the lone explanation Shaw had for falling so deep, so fast.
Rowan offered him a little smile, along with his hand. Shaw ignored it, sliding his arm around Rowan’s waist, pressing them together. Rowan hummed, ducking his head to kiss Shaw’s cheek. “Come on,” Rowan murmured in his ear, pulling him along.
The urge to send his emotions through their connection was almost maddening. Shaw stopped, arm falling away. Rowan turned to look back at him in question. “I need— I want to…” Shaw reached out and grabbed Rowan’s hand, giving it a squeeze, and Rowan’s expression shifted to understanding.
“Oh.” Rowan bit his lower lip, gaze drifting down to their hands.
“I want you to feel how I’m feeling right now. And I know you’re leery about influencing and—”
“It’s okay.” Rowan met his gaze again, lips quirking.
Shaw was momentarily shocked. When it passed, he threaded their fingers together. His eyes fell shut as he pressed his emotions out and into Rowan. All the attraction, the contentment, that sense of right, was all bared for Rowan to see.
The small gasp caused Shaw’s eyes to open. Rowan’s lips were slightly parted, his eyes glowing with magic. Shaw was about to apologize for overwhelming Rowan—it wasn’t as though he was used to empathic exchanges—but Shaw felt a returning trickle of energy.
It was muddy, at first, just raw power. Then, they came through. Rowan was… He was sending emotions back. Affection was front and center, with a sprinkling of humor, excitement, and what Shaw tentatively identified as fascination. There was something fond overlaying all of it, something akin to longing.
Shaw wrapped his arms around Rowan, shutting down the link before all the emotions could start looping around on themselves. “I…” Shaw was, for once, lost for words. Instead, he allowed all those feelings to spur him forward, pressing their lips together.
It was brief, and Shaw had to clamp down on his empathy so that it wouldn’t flair to life again after experiencing such an intimate connection. Rowan’s breath was against his lips, eyes shimmering with an array of emotions that Shaw didn’t need to be an empath to read.
“Thank you” was all Shaw could think to say. “For sharing that with me.”
Rowan smiled, brushing their lips together once more. “I’m not complaining.”
“Hey!” Caleb called from the window. “If you two are gonna keep making gooey eyes at each other all day, I’m eating all the bread.”
Shaw chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, we’re comin’.”
He took Rowan’s hand again, not another word said between them. But he didn’t imagine the prickle of emotion against his skin while Rowan’s thumb rubbed back and forth across his knuckles.
THE GREY TIDES had many small, mostly flat islands scattered about that made them hard to navigate by boat, especially when the low fog lay across them. Large ships had to travel the long way around to port in Everstrand, the entire northern side being protected by rocky outcrops.
Rowan loved coming to the shoals. He found plenty of things to use for charms and potions, as well as simply taking pleasure from the sea. With a whispered incantation, Rowan stepped out on top of the water so he wouldn’t soak his shoes and pants going farther out. Trying to navigate on the slippery rocks was a plain b
ad idea.
A small splash caught his attention as a familiar mermaid leaped up onto a rock shelf. “Good morrow, Varina,” he called the traditional mer greeting.
“Ah, my tree of the water arrives,” she joked. Her smile was friendly, despite the razor sharp teeth similar to a shark’s.
“I am but your humble servant, my lady,” he replied, complete with a flourished bow.
“You need to stay in touch better,” Varina chastised as he sat on the mostly dry stone across from her.
“Well, until the mers create an underwater telephone system, I suppose we can communicate by notes floating in bottles.”
Varina huffed, flopping her ebony tail against the water to splash him, which caused him to laugh. “You’re horrible, you know. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you.”
“Because I’m one of the few topworlders you find interesting?” Rowan supplied. “As well as being charming and handsome—”
“And unfortunately can’t breathe water, so I would kill you if I tried to bring you home with me.”
“There’s that too.” Rowan chuckled, Varina’s lyrical laughter joining in.
“I suppose it hurts my chances further that you’re gay.”
“I dunno; you mers sure do have pretty tails.”
“And you like Leith’s better than mine,” she pouted. Rowan couldn’t argue that he’d loved the merman’s emerald tail glinting in the moonlight the night Rowan had arranged to meet Varina for a swim. A group of her friends had joined them, and Rowan was admittedly attracted to a few of them, tails and all.
“Hey, now,” he argued anyway, “I happen to love your tail.” That was true. “Speaking of… I was hoping you would be willing to part with a scale for me?” Mers were always rubbing off worn scales to make way for new ones so it wouldn’t hurt. Even so, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy to obtain, despite them being friends.
“Oh?” She got a coy look about her, tail swaying back and forth in the water as fingers slid through her long black hair. It was a careful maneuver, with her sharpened nails like small spikes—mers may have been beautiful, but they were equally as deadly. “And why would you need something like that?”
Rowan knew he was walking right into a trap but answered anyway. “I want to make a charm for someone.”