Diary of a Wolf: A Gay Shifter Romance

by Hunter, Troy

  Fool was I to let my fascination fog my better judgement.

  Hindsight is twenty-twenty, I suppose.

  The hopeful feelings I’d felt for the man moments earlier vanished almost as quickly as they arrived, replaced by neurotic paranoia. I remember telling myself “All you had to do was wait for the young man to come outside. Make it appear like you’re a stray dog wandering the courtyard. He wouldn’t have had the right to be upset, for you didn’t enter his home without his knowledge. Do you not remember what happened the last time you entered somebody’s home without their permission? Bloody tosser you’ve always been, Eustace Bertram. Still as stupid as you were fifty years ago.” Thankfully, our communication breakdown was short-lived. The neurosis I felt around the young man faded away the night he coaxed me into escaping the dreadful storm with him.

  Fifty years may be a long time, but time has no power over my fears.

  People change but rain never will.

  From that moment on, I’ve held Kenneth in high regard. Nothing quite brightens my day more than when I see his shimmer of yellow shine through the colorless abyss to which I’ve grown so accustomed. His breezy laughter made my tail wag and my nerves stabilize. I made it a point to spend the time in between our visits thinking about questions I wanted to ask him whenever he decided to shift into his wolf form. Kenneth didn’t do it every day, as he’d explained he felt great pain every time he transformed. Not that he had to tell me that, of course.

  There was much I wanted to discuss with Kenneth Adelbrecht. There’s much I still want to discuss with him, now that he knows my story. The scientist is such a fascinating man. He’s regaled me with tales of his trips overseas, his family, his previous relationships, and even a little bit about his lycan blood. Of course, I was no use to him any time he tried referencing the Great Wolf or any of his so-called songs. Kenneth acted like I should already know everything there is to know about this deity, but I hadn’t the slightest clue. In all fifty years of my life as a wolf, I’ve never figured out who this Great Wolf is supposed to be.

  Mayhap it makes me a shameful wolf, but it’s the truth.

  I didn’t know how Kenneth would react to finding out about my past. Truthfully, I was too embarrassed to tell him. How does one tell someone that a crazy old man changed them from a man to a wolf, especially when that old man was their great-uncle? I couldn’t find the proper words to describe my situation to Kenneth. I tried countless times in my head to formulate the proper spiel. “I’ve a confession: I’m not really a wolf,” or “Truth be told, my friend, I wasn’t born like this,” or “Oh, Kenneth! I’ve actually been a shifter for half a century. Also, your great-uncle is a sociopath.”

  Words were lost on me.

  Had been for years.

  So I decided that the best of course of action would be to show him my diary.

  Turns out, that was not the best course of action.

  I knew he’d read a passage that touched a nerve, so I left him alone. By leaving him to his own devices, I never expected him to fall this far from grace. A meltdown that I expected to last a few days lasted almost a week. I constantly had to fight my own desires to speak with him and make sure he was okay. The worries clouded my head like the sky on a stormy night. Was he eating? Was he sleeping? Was he communicating with anyone besides the voices in his head?

  But I knew better than to walk in on him when he wanted to be alone. I’m thankful Mister Norris checked on him first, though I still regret waiting as long as I did. Kenneth’s mental state was poor. I knew he wouldn’t be happy to hear about the atrocities committed by his great-uncle, as he’s always been proud of his lycan heritage. I thought he should know the truth. He deserved to know the truth.

  I’m so sorry, Kenneth.

  I never meant to break your will like this.

  If I can repair this damage somehow, I will.

  Faster than you can say the word lycanthropy.

  * * *

  It’s been around four hours since Kenneth attacked Mister Norris. No one has heard a word from him during this time. He’s not left the library, which tells me he’s either doing the exact same thing he was doing before, which was making himself sick over my diary, or he’s trying to calm down. Or maybe he’s sleeping for once?

  I decide I’m going to try speaking with him again.

  This time, I’m going to force him to jump off whatever horse he’s riding.

  Kenneth Adelbrecht is going to take care of himself, even if I have to shove an apple in his mouth.

  When I lose sight of the Norris family, I push the library door open. At first glance, I don’t see Kenneth anywhere. This admittedly heightens my already intense state of worry. Where did he go? What was he doing?

  I run all around the library, trying to sniff him out. His scent is easy to pick up, because of my nose or his failure to bathe, I’m not certain. Regardless, I follow the trail. My ears pick up the distinct sound of snoring once I reach the third section of books. My heartbeat eases, relief washing over me.

  The stubborn fool finally surrendered to his basic needs.

  Thank God!

  I find Kenneth lying on the floor in his human form, naked. The scent of oily flesh stings my nostrils almost as much as the smell of unwashed hair follicles do. His breathing is labored, a sign that his internal organs are suffering from malnourishment. The bags under his eyes sag like those of an old man.

  Jesus, Kenneth.

  What have you done to yourself?

  Not knowing what else I can do in this form to help him, I bend over his stomach and begin licking the oily filth around his navel. I admit I’m a little nervous about his reaction should he wake up. He knows I’m no stranger to romancing men, so I hope he won’t get the impression that I’m trying to take advantage of him. Don’t get me wrong, Kenneth is a highly attractive man who I’d be honored to court once I figure out how to maintain my human form. But my actions are not done with sexual intent. The sorry bastard stinks worse than a cow-infested barn.

  Kenneth stirs at the touch of my tongue, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Relieved, I drag my tongue up his abdomen. Saliva flows over my tongue like a waterfall, providing plenty of fluids for me to work with as I scrub him down. He may not smell like peaches and roses after I’m done with him, but his skin will be much cleaner. At the very least, receiving a tongue bath from a wild wolf may encourage him to jump into the bath and wash the germs off himself.

  “Eu-Eustace? That you?”

  My eyes widen and I freeze mid-lick. My nerve crashes and burns at the sound of his voice. What do I do now? Run? Hide away somewhere he can’t find me? I remove my tongue from his body as I watch his face twitch. His eyes open and focus on me.

  To my surprise, he smirks.

  “You didn’t have to give me a bath, you know. I’m a grown man.”

  I tilt my head slightly, as if challenging his statement. If you’re so capable of washing yourself, why haven’t you done it in a week?

  “Yes, I know. I haven’t done a thorough job of that in a while.” The scientist then sighs heavily. “I’m…sorry, Eustace. For being such a ponce to, well, everyone, really,”

  I wag my tail slightly and lick his chest one more time as a way to tell him that he’s forgiven.

  “I just couldn’t figure out how to take what you’ve written. How am I supposed to take news like that?”

  By not shutting people out?

  By not lashing out when others are trying to help you?

  “I thought I knew everything there was to know about the lycans. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected someone to do something so monstrous. A family member, at that,” a faint growl rumbles from his throat and I immediately respond with another three licks to his upper chest. Kenneth has had his time to pine and seethe. No more. Now is the time to push that anger aside.

  His growling subsides in favor of a forlorn sigh. “I can apologize all I want for my own actions, Eustace. But…” Kenneth closes his
eyes, squeezing his eyelids hard. “There aren’t enough apologies in the world that can excuse the horrors my great-uncle has put you through.” The young man reopens his eyes, batting away tears. “I wish you didn’t have to find out about lycans like this. I can’t…Can’t imagine a life without the guidance of the mighty father.” He shakes his head, a soft sob escaping from him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  My heart aches for the young Adelbrecht. I know I wrote about my sorrows in grave detail, but I never intended to hurt him with them. I simply wanted to tell Kenneth my story when I couldn’t find the words to do it myself. I wanted him to understand me a little more, make me less of an enigma to him.

  I’m the one that needs to apologize, not he.

  I whimper at the sight of the broken man. How I wish I could tell him to no longer worry about me. Kenneth didn’t imprison me in his laboratory. He wasn’t the one who forced those chemicals down my throat. And he certainly didn’t shout those unholy incantations at me.

  With two steps forward, I bring my snout to his face. Being as gentle as I possibly can, I dab my tongue into the bag under his right eye. I lap up as much of his sadness as I can without accidently flailing my tongue into his eye.

  Kenneth appreciates the gesture enough to rub my neck. “Stay with me tonight. Don’t leave me alone with myself.” He then gives me a light chuckle, the first I’d heard in a week. How I’ve missed his enchanting tune. “After I take a bath, of course. A real bath, no offense.”

  I give the scientist a soft look into his eyes as my tail begins wagging like it's caught in a hurricane.

  Yellow, like the shining sun.

  12

  A Gathering of Two Men

  Kenneth

  Present Day Stagwood Grove, Spring 1874

  “What do you think, Mister Norris? Should we install a fountain in the courtyard? Maybe return some of the castle’s former glory and grace?”

  As per usual, Mister Norris stares at me like a lifeless corpse. “Why don’t you just leave it like it is, Master? There’s no need to bring a crowd of builders here for just one fountain.”

  I sigh heavily and rub my temples. For the past month now, my conversations with the Norris family have been like this.

  Upon reading Eustace’s journal, and finally accepting all its grueling details, I’ve been anxious to surprise him with a number of specific deeds for when he finally transforms again. Deeds including, but not limited to, installing a fountain so his wolf form can drink fresh water every day, crafting him a special present, cooking him a wonderful meal, and so on. I understand it’s been far too long since Eustace has truly enjoyed any human-exclusive leisure, so I want him to make the most of his next opportunity. It’s the least I can do after being more than a horse’s ass to him, after all.

  I owe Eustace for his information and companionship.

  More importantly, I owe him dearly for his patience.

  Which is why I’m trying to prepare the castle for when he shifts into his human form. So far, the Norris family has stifled me at every turn. Regardless of what it is their master wants to accomplish, they always find a reason to not do it. I so desperately want to know if they ever did this to my great-uncle. I genuinely want to know if this is a matter of not respecting me, or simply not understanding that Elias Adelbrecht is dead.

  I look back up and see Missus Norris approaching us. “Missus Norris. You seem like a woman of culture and taste. Can you convince your dear husband that the installation job is simple, one we can all do without having to hire help?”

  The elderly lady puppet shakes her head slowly. “I apologize, Master. But installing a fountain does seem rather impractical for these grounds.”

  I throw my arms up, quickly losing my patience. “How would it be impractical? It would be the perfect place to hydrate all the wildlife around here. Think of the birds, squirrels, and wolves this could save. Changing the water would be simple enough to do, too. All you’d have to do is…”

  Once it becomes abundantly clear the elderly couple aren’t listening to me, I sigh heavily and scratch the back of my head. If the two numbskulls weren’t in front of me, I’d be kicking the dirt in frustration. It’s now April and I haven’t been able to fix a damn thing around this estate since I’ve arrived. Not that I haven’t wanted to, of course. It’s rather that I’m at the mercy of three elderly people, who are all stuck in the ways of their original master.

  How I wish Eustace Bertram were here to help me convince them.

  Who knew three months away from civilization would be so detrimental to my interpersonal skills?

  “Do you at least have that thing ready that I gave to you, Mister Norris?” He stares at me blankly, possibly forgetful of what I’m referring to. “You know what I’m talking about. The thing. The thing that needed to be repaired?” My eyes dart toward the general direction of the abandoned barn, also known as Eustace’s current hiding place. “The thing, Mister Norris. Is it fixed?”

  After a moment, the old scarecrow finally catches on to what I’m saying and nods slowly. “Yes, Master. The vio…thing is ready.”

  I nod happily. “Jolly good, bravo! You are useful for something, after all.” Mister and Missus Norris look at each other blankly. At first, I think they’re trying to decide if I’m insulting them. But once about ten seconds of awkward silence pass, I defuse the situation. “Good work, you two. As you were. As you were.” I sneak away from the unsettling duo and stuff my hands into my pockets.

  * * *

  Leaning against the door to the abandoned barn, I have one hand in my pocket and the other atop Eustace’s head. He’s panting quietly, a sign that he’s nervous. After scratching my head for long hours, I’ve come up with a theory on how I can trigger Eustace’s transformations. It might not be a foolproof plan but it’s all I’ve got for the time being.

  For normal shifters, we learn how to suppress our primal urges and control the beast within at a young age. However, it’s admittedly very difficult and takes many years to perfect. Eustace was forced into becoming a shifter after being held captive by my great-uncle. And since he’s been alone with no mentors for an outrageous fifty years, it’s very much confirmed that no one taught Eustace how to shift at will.

  As a shifter, years of experience have made it easy for me to control my bestial urges during certain days of the month, such as during the full moon. For untrained lycans, they can only shift during these times. In fact, they’re forced to transform. The full moon comes with the Great Wolf’s monthly inspection of his children. If he feels one of his own isn’t being true to the duality of their nature as man and wolf, he intervenes.

  I shift often, so no intervention is ever needed.

  Eustace, on the other hand, is compelled to revert back to his human form.

  And considering the heinous nature of my great-uncle, I can see why he never wanted Elias to know about his monthly transformations.

  Tonight, I’m going to take Eustace to the highest point of the castle and trigger his transformation during the full moon. I told Eustace about the plan and he agrees we should try it. However, it’s quite obvious the poor pup is nervous about it. I’m sure a number of questions are circling around his head such as, “What if this doesn’t work? What if it does work? What if Kenneth thinks I’m ugly as a man?”

  I scratch his ears and tell him he’ll be perfect. Judging by the wolf’s lean stature, I can already tell Eustace will have a good bit of muscle built up from all the years as a wolf. His voice, as well as his diary, pinpoints his physical age as being twenty-five, despite his actual age being in his mid-seventies. His fur and eye color tell me he’s a brunette with piercing grey eyes, which sounds like a titillating combination.

  He suddenly licks my hand, probably sensing I’m thinking about his human appearance in an endearing light.

  “Don’t thank me,” I say gently. “Thank the Great Wolf for bringing us together.”

  * * *

  As night fal
ls, I walk Eustace through the observatory and up the ladder leading to the roof of Elias Adelbrecht’s castle. The wolf hesitates to join me during the climb at first, but I successfully manage to coax him into coming with me. He appears to be weary, exhausted from the neurosis. He’s ready to join the world of humans again. And I can’t wait to meet the real Eustace Bertram for the first time.

  Once we’re settled on the rooftop, I prop myself up against the balcony rail and hold Eustace close. “Alright, boy. It looks like your time to shine will be in just a few minutes. How are you feeling?”

  He lets out a whine but then barks once.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ve trusted you before with my transformations. The least I can do is repay the favor.”

  The canine wags his tail slowly and ceases his whining.

  After about ten minutes of waiting, Eustace finally starts to howl. I let go of him and back away, so he has room to transform. I watch him with remorse, intrigue, and excitement. I know just how painful this must be for him, considering he only does it once a month. But I know he’ll do just fine. I’m here for him the whole way.

  After what seems like an eternity, the wolf finally ceases to be and a naked man of average height remains. I quickly rush to his side to make sure he’s still breathing. “Eustace? Hello? Are you okay?”

  A pained groan comes from the downed man as he slowly turns to face me.

  Medium-length brown hair, piercing grey eyes, pale skin.

  By God, he’s just as beautiful as I imagined.