Loving Paws

by Preston Walker

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Zan agreed.

  “So, imagine a younger Caleb all out on his own in the big city for the first time. He doesn’t know a single person he can turn to. Sure, he might find someone to help him out for a bit, but what if they find out the truth? What if they turn him away? What would he do then?”

  “Keep searching for someone who would accept him,” I offered.

  “That’s much easier said than done, Luce. When you’re always around people who accept you for who you are, it can difficult to understand why Caleb does the things he does,” said D’Marcus. “I’m not making any excuses for him. I’m not saying I agree. Just that I understand. I’ve been thinking all this over since we got back from the protest. He did what he thought was necessary in order to survive.”

  Zan furrowed his brows in confusion. “I still don’t get why he even had to leave in the first place. If it’s so bad out there, why not just stay home?”

  D’Marcus chuckled. “Thunderstone is a good place. Our families are here. We’ve fought for decades for the right to stay and keep our sense of identity alive. But this isn’t the world, and there’s far more to life than Thunderstone. If Caleb wanted to go out there and make his mark, why shouldn’t he? Just because humans outnumber us doesn’t mean they have any more of a right to live than we do.”

  His words made me picture Caleb as a younger man. I knew it must have been difficult for him out there, but I never imagined just what that meant. He must have been so frightened during those first few nights alone. I wished that I could go back in time and tell him that he didn’t need to do all this, that he didn’t need to venture out among humans for some short-sighted dream and give up who he was.

  But I could have never told him to give up on his dreams. I wanted Caleb to be happy. What I really wished I could have told him was that there was nothing wrong with who he was, and anyone who demanded he hide his truth was not someone worth knowing.

  Did that make me a bad alpha? Was I being too soft?

  “I know what you’re thinking, Lucien. What kind of father would you be if you couldn’t stop Caleb from doing something that could hurt us all?”

  I frowned. “That is exactly what I’ve been worried about. I don’t want our child to grow up hating himself. I want him to be proud of who he is.” I swirled the beer around at the bottom of my glass, as I often did when I was nervous. “But if that bill passes, I’ll have a whole lot more to worry about than that.”

  “Lucien,” said my cousin softly. “I think you’ve done all you can about this silly bill. Think to the future instead.”

  “But…what should I do now? I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

  “But you’re not doing nothing, Luce. You’re moving on,” said Zan.

  “He’s right. If it wasn’t meant to be between you and Caleb, then there’s nothing you can do to change that. After all, a good alpha never needs to force his pack to obey him--and an omega is no different. There’s more to being an alpha than dominance.”

  I looked at him, hoping he would explain further. Despite all the rumors around the pack lands about my cousin preparing to hand over the title of alpha to me, this was the closest he had ever gotten to confirming it. It felt partly like a dream, partly like a nightmare. Had D’Marcus really been considering me for alpha? Or had I already ruined my chances?

  “Do you wanna know something my father told me before he died?” asked D’Marcus.

  My cousin had been alpha for so long now, it was difficult for me to remember a time when he wasn’t. But that did not mean that I had forgotten his father, my uncle Erik, a kind man who had been taken from this world by a human hunter before D’Marcus was fully grown.

  “The most important part of being an alpha has nothing to do with how well you can boss other shifters around. Hell, anyone can do that as long as they’re mean enough. No, a good alpha needs to be kind and understanding. You can’t force things. You gotta nurture ’em,” he explained. “You gotta let Caleb make his own mistakes. It’s his life.”

  “And whatever happens next, all of us will figure it out together,” said Zan, nodding.

  A moment later, Zan ordered another round of beers. When they came, I took another long sip, nearing downing the whole glass in one go. The alcohol was starting to get to me, making my head a little dizzy, the memory of my fight with Caleb turning fuzzy at the edges. It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling; more than anything at the moment, I wanted to forget about my woes.

  “Listen,” I said as I put the empty glass down. “I really appreciate you guys letting me talk to you about all this. You’re some real good friends, you know that?”

  “Anytime, cousin.” D’Marcus smiled as he reached over and patted me lightly on the shoulder. “You’re a good man--and you’re going to make a good father and alpha soon. I couldn’t think of a single person I’d rather hand the title to, so don’t let this get you down.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  There it was. He finally said it. So why didn’t it make me feel excited? It was what I wanted all along--wasn’t it?

  “And it’s like they say--” To my amused surprise, D’Marcus began to sing, the alcohol making the ends of his words trail on with an awkward warble. “Don’t worry baby, everything will turn out alright.” He grinned and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Ol’ Merle Haggard sang that one.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Zan scoffed. “That was the Beach Boys, D’Marcus.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” D’Marcus denied, his cheeks flushing red beneath the stubble of his beard.

  Zan and I shared a laugh. It felt good, like stretching a muscle that had not been used in far too long.

  We sat talking about other matters for a while, but honestly, I could not remember anything that was said. For the rest of the night, it felt like I was floating by on autopilot until I realized that I’d had more than enough to drink. I ran my fingers through my hair and sat at the table, and then I stared at the worn surface, listening to the sounds of the bar winding down for the night. The short reprieve I had from my misery was fading fast.

  I didn’t want to go home to my empty house. Tipsy and exhausted, the last thing I wanted to do was be alone with my thoughts. It seemed, however, that I had little choice. It was well into the night, and almost all of the other patrons at the bar had gone home. The lights had all dimmed, and apart from me, only the bartender remained. I thanked him, and he nodded back at me as he wiped down the bar counter.

  Outside, I heard D’Marcus and someone else speaking amongst each other, their conversations punctuated with light chuckles before they too took off for the night. I could hear crickets chirping as the place grew quieter. Compared to how lively everything had been just an hour ago, the difference seemed staggering to me. I was again alone with my thoughts--and I feared that I wouldn’t be able to stand it.

  But there was nowhere else to turn to at night. I thought of my bed, cold on the side Caleb had graced with his warmth, and felt a pang of sadness twist inside me like a knife. Maybe it was better this way. As much as it hurt me to think that our relationship was not ideal, I still longed to be with him more than I ever wanted anything in my entire life. Now that a baby was on the way, the thought of continuing this life without him seemed like a lifetime of emptiness.

  “Hey, Luce,” said Zan somewhere in the dark. I found him leaning against the wall of the building, his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Zan,” I said. “You weren’t waiting up for me, were you?”

  He shrugged, but I already knew the answer. “Just wanted to see if you’re doin’ okay before you head back. I mean, you sounded real worried over the phone, and you had a lot to drink tonight.” Zan shifted his weight from one foot to another. He seemed visibly nervous, but that could have just been the alcohol making him jumpy. “You think you’re gonna be alright, Luce?”

  “Yeah. I’m not that drunk,” I said, with a small grin.

 
; “I meant--well, I think you know what I mean.”

  “I do. I’m sure I’ll get over this whole thing soon enough,” I lied.

  “There’s… There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Luce. I was kinda planning on keeping it to myself, but it’s been eating me alive lately keeping this all bottled up.”

  I watched Zan--tall, elegant, audacious Zan--drag his boot along the dirt like a timid schoolboy.

  “For a long time now,” he began. “I’ve been crazy about you. I know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay. I’m just… I’m grateful that I get to be a part of your life even if we’re only meant to be friends.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Zan. I don’t know where I’d be without your help.”

  “I know how much you must be hurting right now. When I found out Caleb was back, I honestly started to feel the same way. My whole world felt like it was crumbling, but then I realized--well, if he can make you happy, that should make me happy, too. Because after all, isn’t that what it means to be in love? Wanting that other person to find the kind of joy that makes life worth living even if you don’t get to be a part of it?” His eyes, filled with a distant pain, met mine. Our gazes held for a second before he looked back down to the earth. “But…still…sometimes I worry about you.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You have so much goodness in your heart, Lucien. It’s only natural that you would want to share that with someone. But throughout the years, I’ve noticed how much it hurts you, too. I worry that you want to love more than you want to be loved, that you want to share yourself until there’s nothing left of yourself for you to hold on to.”

  “Love and sadness are almost one and the same,” I offered.

  “Yes,” he said. “So, whatever happens, Lucien, please don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re going to make a good father and a good mate someday. I just hope it’ll be in the way you’ve always wanted it.”

  I pulled him into a quick but tight embrace. I shut my eyes hard to keep from crying. If there was any comfort for me now, it was that I always would have the greatest friends here.

  15

  Lucien

  Dust flew up along the road as I drove down to Thunderstone’s latest construction site. The road was, as our makeshift paths often were, free from traffic aside from a couple of guys hauling their construction equipment back and forth. As the dust slowly cleared up, I recognized one of them as D’Marcus. I honked my truck’s horn and drove up alongside him.

  “Need a ride to the site?” I asked, unlocking the door.

  D’Marcus hoisted a bundle of thick ropes over his shoulder and swung the door open. “Man, am I glad we ran into each other when we did. These ropes are way heavier than they look,” he said with a sigh. “And I’m not as fit as I used to be.”

  “Yeah. Sorry I’m late.” Again. I was late again--the second time this week. It was completely unlike me; typically I would have been the one reprimanding the no-shows for pack duties, but I was feeling completely unlike myself in general in the month since Caleb had been gone.

  He frowned at me. “Gotta keep better track of time, Luce. You holding up okay?”

  “I’m…hanging in there,” I said. My cousin could see right through any lie, so I knew better than to try. I didn’t want to keep bothering him with my mess of a love life, so I just left it at that.

  There was an awkward silence as I drove us the rest of the way to the site. The morning crew had gotten to the site, and it looked like the guys had already gotten a start with the foundation of the new structure we were building. Another pang of guilt hit me. It had been a long time since the young shifters had a proper place to call a school ever since the last one, which had been needing extensive repair for years, was irreparably damaged in a storm; the most important lessons were taught at an elder’s home. Some kids still ventured out to public schools, which sometimes made their families nervous in case they ever let the secret of being shifters get out. It was a job that deserved everyone’s best efforts--but my own participation left a lot to be desired. I was just glad D’Marcus wasn’t chewing me out for it. At least not yet.

  I stopped the truck and before I could even think to shut the engine off, D’Marcus looked back at me and said, “Listen, I know you’re probably not up for this today. Just help me unload the cement and take the rest of the day to sort whatever you need out. I’m sure the guys will understand.”

  I didn’t need any more time off. Being home alone all week without doing anything productive was driving me crazy.

  The two of us got out of the truck and headed for the cargo bed, and to my humiliation, found it empty.

  “You forgot the cement?” he asked in disbelief.

  I stammered. “I-I was sure I packed it up this morning.” Didn’t I?

  To my immense relief, D’Marcus did not seem to be angry with me. “I get it, Luce. Anyway, you head on home now. I’ll call up someone else to bring the bags over.”

  How had I forgotten something so simple? I was losing a grip on myself. “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling suddenly very overwhelmed by everything.

  “It’s okay, man.” He pulled out the bundle of rope from the backseat and heaved it up over his shoulder with a grunt of effort. “But I’m gonna need you to step it up soon. We gotta finish this building sooner rather than later. Understand?”

  I nodded weakly. “Yeah. I understand.”

  Shame burned through me as I did a U-turn and drove all the way back home without having accomplished a single thing. Despite my cousin’s reassurance that the construction crew understood that I was going through a hard time, I couldn’t help but feel like a burden on everyone. I turned on the radio in an attempt to distract myself from my feelings, but some sappy Hank Williams song was playing on the only station we got all the way out in the woods. I immediately shut it back off.

  When I finally reached my house, I decided to stay on the porch for a while. This way, I could at least listen to the sounds of the nearby woods. Still, I guess I had forgotten how eerily quiet the woods can be when fall comes around.

  I heard a soft thumping against the screen door. I turned and saw Punk pawing at the mesh, trying to get my attention. She meowed in that long, sharp way cats do whenever they’re hungry. “Alright, alright,” I whined back. As soon as I opened the door, she rubbed up against my legs. “You act like you haven’t eaten in days,” I told her, to which she meowed back. “You eat better than I do most of the time.”

  I emptied a can of wet food into her bowl and, despite my better judgement, put it on the kitchen table. Punk leapt up and hungrily devoured her meal in no time. Pulling up a chair, I hunched over the table and watched her lick the edges of the bowl. When she was done, Punk gave me a quick sniff before stretching out on the table. She knew it was typically against the rules for her to hang around in the kitchen for too long, and she seemed to be enjoying how much I was letting her get away with.

  She even licked herself on my table.

  “Punk, you’ve got the worst table manners I’ve ever seen,” I said. “You know, I eat off this table.”

  I bit my lip at the memory of Caleb, and how badly I had wanted to take him right here in the kitchen. Why did being in love make you want to have sex in strange places?

  It was a good thing I never went through with it, though. Caleb’s soft, earthy scent still lingered in so many places that it was impossible to push him out of my mind. I couldn’t even sleep in my own bed anymore because in the short time we spent living together, it became our place, our refuge. I thought of his head against my bare chest, of absentmindedly stroking his hair as he drifted off to a peaceful sleep. Without the comfort of his weight pressing against my side, I felt like I was missing something important.

  Still, as much as it hurt being reminded of him so much, the memory of him was like an addiction I knew I could never break. I kept going through the conversations we shared, the intense, passionate kisses, the warm
embraces, and the sex that always seemed to shake the very foundation of my soul.

  I always thought me and Caleb were meant for each other. I was so in love with him that the very idea of a future without him in it was unimaginable. How was I supposed to go on like this, hurting and alone and miserable?

  I didn’t just want him; I needed him. He was as much a part of my soul as the moon was.

  It was stupid to think I could continue like this. There had to be something I could do, and despite my better judgement, I realized the one thing I could do was try and work things out. Really, I would have done anything for Caleb. One way or another, I was prepared to make our relationship work.

  My phone felt so heavy as I nervously dialed his number. While it rang, I thought over what I would tell him, how I would beg if I needed to--but he didn’t pick up. It went to voicemail.

  Maybe he was busy, I thought. After all, in that fast-paced city life of his, he was probably swamped with work. When it was time to leave a voicemail, I ended the call instead. I thought of surprising him but then decided against it; it probably wasn’t the healthiest thing to do to a pregnant shifter.

  So, I tried to call again. This time when I got voicemail, I cleared my throat. “Caleb? This is Luce. I-I just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing. Have you been to the doctor? Are you having any complications or anything? I hope not.” I paused to take in a deep breath and steady myself. “Anyway… I’m going to be in town soon and I was hoping I could see you. I know we didn’t exactly get along too well when you left here, but I wanted to smooth things over with you. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

  My heart raced as I set the phone down on the kitchen counter as though it were scorching hot. Briefly, I wished I hadn’t sent anything. I wished I could take back that moment of vulnerability, and instead show the true alpha nature that I was meant to wield.