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Written and posted with permission from Leo_Todrius (who also provided the kickass thumbnail icon!)

You can find his profile and awesome stories here: www.furaffinity.net/user/leotodrius

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Lykos - Wild Things

Chapter 17 - I am me (sincerely yours)

The living room of Underhill House was by no means small, but it looked downright tiny now that thirteen people were huddled inside: the three women of the family - Cordelia, Talia and Grace - were sitting together on the sofa, holding each other's hands, their expression as inscrutable as always; Craig, Talia's husband, was standing alongside her, his hand on her shoulder. He was staring at Richard, who was pacing nervously in front of the big patio windows, glancing at the dark forest in the distance; it wasn't raining anymore, and now the sky was almost clear. Moira was sitting on a tall bar stool in the corner of the room closest to the door, smoking one of her small cigars - a one-time concession from Cordelia, who usually didn't tolerate them - and shouting orders into her cell phone; in the opposite corner, Drake and the rest of the pack were sitting together in a big group hug, with Drake at the center. They were all trying their best to make him feel at least a bit better, but their heartbeats betrayed their anxiousness and concern.

"Yes, Geoffrey. No, I don't care if the Lakers are playing tonight, this is an emergency," Moira was grumbling into her phone. "Yes, Richard's son. In half an hour at the glade." The old woman let out an exasperated huff. "Of course your wife needs to come too, Geoffrey. Also, isn't your daughter in Natalia's pack? Bring her too, she's old enough to be of some help." She cut the call short and crushed the cigar butt into her portable ashtray. "Okay, I'm done. We'll need to get moving in a few minutes," she announced to the rest of the living room.

"I should be out there already," Richard growled, his fangs showing. "If only it hadn't rained, I would have already found him."

"At least you found his... well, you found proof the he has actually gone direwolf," Moira replied. "And no point acting like a lone wolf in a situation like this one. We need to be methodical. The forest is big, and we have until daybreak before..." The Keeper shook her head. "We'll find him, Richard. I'll make sure of it."

"It's all my fault," Drake murmured, as everyone else in the room turned their heads to stare at him.

"No, it's not," Inori replied, her head resting against his shoulder.

"Inori is right, big bro," Chance added as he rubbed Drake's leg. "Stop blaming yourself."

"You weren't there, though... I shouldn't have that stupid argument with him. I provoked him, and now he's..." Drake stopped talking when he realized someone was standing right in front of him; he raised his gaze and met Richard's glowing eyes staring back at him. Oh, no. He hates me now. I lost my boyfriend and now his dad hates me, he thought while getting back on his feet, as his throat twisted into a painful knot. Even though it had healed perfectly, it was still hard for him to talk. "I'm sorry, Richard, I didn't..." he started, but was interrupted almost immediately.

Richard was hugging him. His heartbeat was calm, or at least as calm as it could be in such a situation, and harbored no hatred whatsoever; it was soothing and comforting, and Drake hugged him back, reveling in the familiar smell of cologne and musk. "That's nonsense, Drake," the man whispered, petting his hair. "If anything, it's my fault."

"Our fault, I would say." Cordelia said, rising from the sofa and getting close to the two of them. She placed a well manicured hand over Drake's forearm and massaged the skin with her thumb; that gesture, as simple and small as it was, was almost as comforting as Richard's hug. "Simply hurting someone would never cause anyone to turn into a direwolf, not by itself at least. That was merely a tipping point, and it would have happened sooner or later anyway. No, Wyatt was clearly repressing a lot of harmful emotions... anger, resentment, frustration. Maybe we even took notice, but none of us thought it was that big of a deal; and it's me and Richard, who raised him, who are the ones to blame the most for this. Perhaps I was right, perhaps I am an awful mother." Her face still maintained her usual stoic and regal expression, but tears started rolling down her cheeks. "Please save my son, Drake. If any one of us can, then it's you."

"I..." Drake murmured. Looking at Cordelia crying once again made him realize how serious and how fucked up the whole situation was. "I will. I promise."

"Let's stop playing the blame game now," Moira interjected. "It won't help anyone, and it definitely won't help Wyatt. We need to get moving, it's not like we have time to waste. Except you, Natalia, of course," she added when she noticed Wyatt's older sister was trying to get back on her feet. "As your appointed midwife, I forbid you from doing something as reckless as this."

Drake was expecting Talia to at least say something, but she simply nodded. "Come on, Grace. Let's watch a movie together," she said to her younger sister.

"What?!" the girl replied. "I thought I was coming to!" she added, staring at her parents.

"No way we're going to expose you to a potential direwolf attack, miss," Richard retorted. Grace opened her mouth to protest. "And that's final."

Before anyone could say anything else, the door of the living room swung open and Leah and Ian, Moira's twin grandkids, barged in, sweaty and panting, the denim jeans they were both wearing caked with mud. "S-sorry everyone..." Ian said, his blond hair falling over his eyes. "E-everything's ready, gr... Moira."

The old woman nodded. "Good. Although, we've only just begun."

Leah nodded, her breathing heavy. "Y-yes," she murmured.

Moira grunted, before she started rummaging in her huge black purse. "You know, I wanted to wait until your birthday, but... you would be of no use with your mountain bikes tonight. Here," and she tossed two identical objects to her grandkids. As soon as they realized what had just landed in their palms, their eyes sparkled with excitement and joy.

"Motocross bikes?! Seriously?!" Leah basically screamed.

"Dad is so going to kill you," Ian added, his grin barely contained by his face.

Moira grinned back. "He can try. They are in my garage, by the way. Just go and get them, I want you two at the glade in..." Her order was cut short when her two grandkids hugged her in unison.

"Thank you, grandma!" they exclaimed, before they waved at Chance and Kaylee and darted out of the door, giggling with anticipation.

"I'll allow it, just this once!" she shouted back at them, before regaining her composure. "We need to go, now. Craig, with me. You all will have to run there, of course," she said, pointing at the werewolves in the room. Everyone nodded, and Drake started walking towards the door, when a single word froze everyone on the spot.

"Wait." Everyone turned towards Talia, who was still sitting on the sofa, staring at the wall in front of her. "There is something I need to say first."

"Okay, Natalia, but make it quick," Moira replied.

Wyatt's sister cleared his throat and sat silent for a moment, no doubt trying to find the right words. "I... mistreated him. Well, no point sugarcoating it: when he was still part of my pack, I challenged him, again and again. I beat him, without showing him any mercy. I wanted him to fight back, to show me the strength I know he had in him, because... because he was my younger brother, and I expected nothing less from him." She turned around, slowly: her eyes were as petrifying in their intensity as ever, but her mouth was pursed in a subtle and yet powerful display of vulnerability. "Mother, father, everyone... I am sorry. I am in big part responsible for what has happened today, and the fact that I will not be able to help you rescuing him mortifies me immensely." Her gaze focused on Drake. "Even during your first full moon, after you convinced the both of us to talk and try to see past our differences... we still couldn't make any progress. There was still too much hatred and too much anger between the two of us to be forgiven and forgotten like that." The young woman bit her lower lip. "I still maintain that this world only needs beautiful things, but maybe I'm not as beautiful or as strong as I would have thought."

Promise me something, Drake: promise me you'll never trust someone who tells you that being angry is a bad thing, what Wyatt told Drake the first time they met, deep into the woods, resonated in his head. "You know, Talia," he said, giving her a small smile. "I think you two are too similar to each other, and that's why you always butt heads. Maybe that's where you should start from, your similarities and not your differences." The young man sighed, his eyes closed. I can do it, he told himself. I can find him, I can save him. I need to believe I can, otherwise I'm gonna go insane. "Let's go," he said to his packmates.

When the group finally arrived at the glade, almost every werewolf in town and the majority of the Keepers were already gathered there. The atmosphere, however, was completely different than the usual: gone were the excitement, the electricity in the air that preceded a full moon night; everyone was huddled in small groups, silent and sullen, especially after they noticed Wyatt's parents and pack stepping inside the glade. Moira was perched on her usual white rock in the middle of the clearing, and when she cleared her throat everyone heard her and focused on her, thanks to her magic-enhanced voice.

"Well, you all know why you are here," she said. "No time to waste, then. Move in pairs or in groups of three. Our goal is to find Wyatt Underhill before daybreak. Once you find him, do not, and I repeat, do not engage with him. Give us a call or send someone back here if there's no reception, we'll make sure to spread the word to the rest of the packs so that we can capture him with minimal risk. Understood? Good. Now get a partner or two and go. We have a bit more than nine hours left. Make them count."

Drake turned around, looking at his packmates. "Chance, Kaylee? Patrol the perimeter of our pack's barrier. Patrick, Angela, you two will check the area proper." The four werewolves nodded. "Inori, Leo, you'll be with me. You've never smelled a direwolf before, after all."

Angela signed at Patrick, who nodded and signed back. "He says he agrees, that checking the places that might be familiar to Wyatt is a good idea."

"Yeah, even though that... thing isn't exactly our alpha," Kaylee said in a grim tone. "But I hope there's enough of him left inside it." Drake ruffled her hair, trying to look strong for the sake of the rest of his pack.

"I'm sure there is. Now go!" The two pairs exchanged one last quick hug with the rest of the pack, trying to gather a modicum of comfort from each other's scents and heartbeats, before they turned around and disappeared among the trees.

"What about us?" Inori said. "I'm sure you have something in mind."

"I do." If there's enough of Wyatt left inside him, he thought as he started sprinting towards the trees, his eyes blazing, his tail flapping behind him. He'll go back where everything has begun.

***

The clawed, padded feet of the three werewolves hit the muddy soil as they darted through the woods, leaving a confused, messy patchwork of prints behind them. Drake's heart was thumping against his eardrums, drowning all the countless forest noises around him, but the werewolf didn't even notice, as focused as he was on his nose. The only thing in his mind was the disgusting, vile stench of direwolf fur, and even though the mere idea of associating that mephitic smell with Wyatt made his stomach turn, there was no other way around it: he needed to find even the faintest trace of that horrific stink... and get ready to face whatever was at the end of that trail.

Drake turned around to check on his two companions: Inori was as focused as ever, her black hair flowing behind her like a cape, her slender white tail held high; Leo, however, had a weird expression on his face: under the light of the stars and the waxing moon filtering through the branches, Drake could notice that his breath was short, his cheeks flushed, his pupils turned into pinpricks and his face was an uncanny mixture of confusion and lust... and his grey tracksuit pants did a very poor job in concealing an obvious boner. Drake followed the direction of Leo's gaze, and realized he was staring at Inori. What the...?, he thought, until a sweet, fragrant aroma similar to that of a flower hit his nose, causing his balls to churn for a moment. "Oh, crap!" he exclaimed. So focused as he was on finding Wyatt, he totally forgot about the lily of the valley mutation. "Inori, keep yourself upwind from Leo!" he ordered his companion.

The young woman's eyes went wide. "Oh, of course. Sorry," she said, shifting place so that Leo couldn't catch her smell. It was easy for those who had an emotional attachment with Inori to simply ignore the involuntary intoxicating effect of her scent, but there had been no time to explain the issue to Leo.

The boy shook his head and blinked a couple times, his eyes getting back to normal, his boner deflating. "Wha... what happened?" he asked.

Inori brushed her hand against his and gave him a tiny smile. "I'll explain it to you later, okay? It's... quite personal."

"O-oh, of course, sure!" Leo replied.

"We are almost there," Drake said to his packmates after a couple of seconds, recognizing the configuration of some of the trees around him; the man stopped running, and was about to tell Inori and Leo to be quiet and circumspect from that point onwards, when he heard a low, rumbling noise behind him. Fearing the worst, he turned around, fully expecting to be ambushed by a warped, monstrous, almost unrecognizable version of his boyfriend.

Leo had stopped dead in his tracks, a hand pressed on the left side of his face, his claws digging into the skin of his forehead and drawing droplets of blood, his visible eye narrow and feral. For a moment, Drake was afraid that Leo was still under the effect of Inori's scent, but the girl was staring at him from a reasonable distance.

"Is everything okay?" Inori asked. Leo let out another growl, his fangs exposed, his eyes focused in the distance way beyond Drake.

"One of them is here," he finally hissed, his voice almost incomprehensible. "It's like that night... that fucking night. My scars still remember." His claws became longer and sharper, cutting into his forehead even more. "I need to kill it. I need to kill that monster..."

"No!" Drake shouted. Oh, god, I completely forgot his entire family was killed by a direwolf..., he thought, as Leo looked at his with eyes full of pain and confusion. "I mean... that's... that's Wyatt you are sensing. He's nearby, as I suspected."

Leo's tail slithered between his legs, his ears lowered. "We need to stop him, alpha," he growled. His body shifted under his clothes as his height slightly increased, muscles bulging under his skin; from his sideburns, greyish blond hair began to grow downward, connecting at his chin into a short fuzzy beard. Leo's wolf had manifested himself completely for the first time, and he meant business. "We need to stop him no matter what."

Drake hugged the younger man, petting his head to try and calm him down. "We will, Leo. I promise," he said in the most soothing voice he could conjure. "Now focus on my heartbeat and not on the anger inside you, okay? Can you do it?"

Leo nodded into the hug as he stopped clawing his face. "Sorry," he murmured, as the skin of his forehead began to repair itself. "It's just... my scars are hurting like crazy."

"I know, I know..." Drake could feel some of the pain thanks to the pack bond, dull blades criss-crossing his arm, his cheek and the side of his neck, and couldn't imagine how much more Leo was suffering. "But imagine how much Wyatt is hurting because of this. How full of rage and hatred and confusion he must be."

Leo raised his gaze. "Right. Let's do it, then." He stepped back, and Drake gave him a short look: his lips were still twitching, displaying his fangs, and his claws were stained with his own blood, but he looked much more in control than before. As he stared at him, at the noble yet savage blend of human and beast he had given life to with a single bit, and compared him to the frail, scared husk of a person he had been until just a few days earlier, Drake couldn't help but feel pride mounting inside his chest. The first beta I created, he thought, grinning. I think I did a pretty good job, didn't I?

"Alpha?" Inori asked, her eyes moving from Leo to Drake.

"U-um, I mean, it's... not as it might seem, well..." Drake replied as he scratched his neck.

"I don't know about that," the girl said as a smile appeared on her lips. "I think it makes sense, if you ask me."

"O-oh..." Drake muttered, and before he realized it, he had already pulled Inori closer for a hug. "I'm... glad you think so," he whispered to her, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. "Now let's go. We need to save our... well, our other alpha."

As the trio got closer to their destination, Drake's nose finally caught the vile smell of putrefaction of a direwolf, the stench of death and despair that followed those accursed creatures everywhere they went. "Almost there," he whispered. Inori nodded, while Leo only let out a small growl of acknowledgement. There was an almost uninterrupted line of trees right ahead of them, and Drake crouched behind one of them, his claws sinking into the hard, cold bark, and motioned for the other two to do the same.

"What is this place?" Inori asked. From behind the tree row, sounds of heavy breathing and something big moving around could be heard. The stench was almost unbearable.

Drake gulped. "It's where it all began. At least for me," he replied, before finally gathering enough courage to peek inside the glade.

There it was, the depression in the ground where Drake had fallen into during that fateful August evening when his life had been changed forever... and the same place where Wyatt had confessed to him and they had had a romantic night of outdoor sex, under the bright stars. But there was nothing bright, nor romantic, in what was prowling around the hole with heavy, misshapen paws. There was only weeping, and gnashing of teeth.

As a direwolf, Wyatt wasn't as big as the monster Drake had put out of its misery during his first full moon, but what was he lacking in size, he was packing in deadliness: his front claws were at least one feet long each, and looked like deadly sickles more than anything else, digging deep trenches in the dark soil as the creature who once was his boyfriend traced another circle around the hole; his fangs were bare, and there seemed to be an impossible number of teeth inside that muzzle. His fur, once silky and golden, had a sickly greenish tinge to it that made him look even more like a reanimated rotting carcass, and his red eyes contained nothing but dull, idiotic madness. Drake's brain, for a moment, tried to argue that the horrible, disgusting, wrong creature in front of him couldn't possibly be Wyatt... but once he noticed the small bronze pendant still hanging from one of his mangled ears, there was no more space for debate.

That is your enemy, the beast in his heart warned. Get ready to fight him.

I can't, Drake replied, biting his lower lip. That's my boyfriend.

No, he is not, the beast in his heart stated, unfazed. Not anymore, at least. But if you want him back... you will have to prove him your worth. At least until it is not too late.

Drake nodded, as he turned towards his packmates: they were staring at Wyatt, their faces pale, their eyes full of terror and incredulity; he could even see the scars on Leo's face throb slightly for a moment. The man instinctively brushed his hand against the front pocket of his jeans, but it was empty. Fuck, I left my cellphone home!, he realized. Although he probably wouldn't have mattered anyway, since there was no signal in that part of the woods the night he had been bitten. "Leo, you need to go back to the glade," he murmured. "Let the Keepers know we are here, so that..."

"No," the younger werewolf interrupted him. "I'm sorry, alpha, but I want to stay here with you. I want to help. I need to help you," he pleaded.

Inori, crouched next to him, nodded. "I agree. I'm the fastest among us three. I'll bring as many as I can with me."

Drake scratched his beard with a clawed finger. She's right, of course, he said to himself. And not only that: he had no idea how could a direwolf react if exposed to the burgeonal, and he certainly didn't want to risk the direwolf focusing his attacks on Inori. "Go. We'll keep him occupied."

Inori leaned over and kissed Leo, then Drake. "I'll be right back... alpha." A flick of her tail, and she was gone, a black and pale shadow darting among the trees.

"What should we do, Drake?" Leo asked, his eyes focused on the direwolf still moving in circles. "He doesn't seem to have noticed us."

"I..." a teardrop rolled down Drake's cheek before disappearing inside his bushy beard. "I think he might be looking for me."

Leo wrapped one of his arms around Drake's muscular chest, placing his head against his left pec, finding comfort in his heartbeat. "What is this place?" he murmured, nuzzling his head against his alpha's chin.

"This is where I met him. Where he turned me into a werewolf. This is where... he fell in love with me." And might as well be where I fell in love with him too. "That's why I know there's still enough of Wyatt in that thing... and why I know I can bring him back."

"What should we do?" Leo said.

Drake looked down at him. "You mean apart from waiting for the others?"

"Yeah, but I don't think you want to wait... do you? 'Cause I definitely don't," Leo replied, as the fury of a predator seeped through his words and made his eyes burn. "A creature like that shouldn't exist in this world."

"I agree, but... Wyatt is in there, somewhere. We are not here to murder him," Drake whispered back. Leo nodded.

"I would never hurt Wyatt, Drake. He's your alpha, which means he's my alpha too. But that thing..." Leo's body started shaking, and Drake wrapped his arms around him even tighter, both to comfort him and also because he was afraid that the smaller werewolf was going to burst through the glade any second now. "It hurts my head just looking at it. It hurts my soul. And it won't go down without a fight."

"I know." Drake caressed Leo's cheek, pensively. "Although... I don't know how to, you know... get him back. Moira probably has some potion she can use, but I..."

"Are you sure you don't? A hundred percent sure?"

"I..." Drake's brow furrowed. Come to think of it, he was sure someone had talked to him about direwolves in the past few months. Was it someone at the hotel con? No, it was even before than that. But when, exactly? And most importantly, who? It must have been someone from outside town, otherwise I would... Drake's eyes went wide as a sudden realization hit him. "Right! Artyom!"

"Artyom?" Leo repeated.

"Yeah, he's a college student in Colorado. He went direwolf like Wyatt, and his alpha saved him. He told us so last December, when we were there with Richard for a job. Do you remember I told you I knew someone who got turned back into a werewolf after he had gone direwolf? He's that guy," Drake explained briefly.

"Wyatt is an alpha, though," Leo objected.

Drake pursed his lips. This might be a huge stretch, and I don't even know how Marco saved Artyom in the first place since he never went into any details about that, but... I need to try. If I can't save Wyatt, I will never forgive myself. "Maybe it doesn't necessarily be to be his alpha," he said, finally getting back to his feet. "Maybe just an alpha will do the trick, don't you think?"

Leo held his breath for a moment. "You mean that..."

Leo's alpha - finally - looked back at him. "If it's for Wyatt's sake, then I will be one. Now let's show that beast what we are capable of."

***

Around half an hour after all the werewolves had left the glade, while the Keepers were still busy setting up an emergency camp, boiling kettles of coffee and tea over portable stoves and trying to chat to pass the time - even though none of them wasn't really in the mood for talking - a small, panting, monochrome shadow emerged from the trees, landing on all fours and looking around until she saw Moira, who was sitting on a plastic chair, smoking a cigarillo. "We found him," Inori said, as she got closer to the Keeper. "Around seven miles in that direction."

Moira clicked his tongue before snapping her fingers to catch everyone's attention, even though the majority of the Keepers had already noticed Inori's arrival. "Seven miles north-east from the glade. Call all the wolves you can. Now," she ordered. Inori turned around, seemingly ready to once again disappear among the trees. "Wait. Where do you think you are going, missy?"

"I need to get back to them. They need my help," the young woman replied.

"You need to warn the rest of your pack first, then," Moira said. Inori nodded, and as fast as she had arrived, she vanished from the clearing. The old woman groaned, massaging her nose and forehead. "Off all the people who could find him, it had to be Drake, right? That boy is definitely gonna attempt something stupid." She got back on her feet, cursing her weak knee under her breath, and shouted. "Leah! Ian!"

"Yes g... Moira?" the two young Keepers ran towards her, each holding a cup of steaming hot coffee.

"Get on your bikes. We need to go there too. I'll ride with you, and Ian... get Craig to come with you," the old woman barked at them.

Both cups of coffee almost fell on the ground. "What?!" the twins exclaimed in unison. "You mean through the woods?!"

"I'm pretty sure this kind of stupidity comes from the other side of the family," her grandmother chastised them. "No, I definitely don't want to get us all killed. I know the place she was talking about, it's where Wyatt found Drake the first time; the road crosses through that section of the woods, we can get as close to that spot as half a mile, give or take. Now come on, there's no time to waste." If that idiot acts in a reckless way, he might get himself killed, she thought, grim. Or even worse, he might push Wyatt beyond the point of no return...

***

"Merdaaaa!" Leo's curse word bounced from one tree to the other, echoing around the small glade in a cacophony of pain and frustration. The young werewolf was half-crouched against a tre, holding his right arm with his left, blood gushing from three jagged cuts right where Wyatt's claws had cut through his jacket, the shirt underneath and then his pale skin, through the bicep muscles and several blood vessels, only to be stopped by the humerus. Despite the copious amount of blood he had lost and the severity of the damage - as even the superior regenerative abilities of a lycan couldn't heal injuries of that entity in a matter of seconds - his bare fangs, his blazing eyes and his fuzzy pointed ears vibrating with rage in the cold Winter night made him look downright ferocious. "Fuck, it hurts!"

Drake, however, had no time to offer comfort or help his beta: every fiber of his body was focused on the fight against the monster that had once been his boyfriend.

The two werewolves had decided that the best course of action was to try and overpower the beast by counting on their - as slim as it was - numerical superiority. After all, Drake had considered, that wasn't his first time facing a direwolf, and he had already been victorious once; and now, he had added, as a rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins, he would not just be fighting for survival like during his first moon, but for love.

That was, at best, a stupid and pointless plan, born from the silly hope of a fool who thought he could fix that problem with his own hands and nothing more. As he had stepped into the glade alongside Leo, Drake hadn't even thought about the fact that the last time he had faced a direwolf he was a huge, hulking powerhouse fueled by the light of the full moon; as the direwolf had stopped dead in his tracks and had finally acknowledged their presence, the newly-minted alpha didn't realize that his beta, who had never once had experience in battle, could be a liability, especially considering the pain and bloodthirst his scars were causing him; as the monster bared his deadly fangs and let out a threatening, bone-chilling growl, Drake was still unaware about what he was supposed to do to get his boyfriend back to normal. And, as the creature had begun trampling towards them at full speed, something finally dawned in his brain.

Wyatt was awfully fast.

Before Drake could react, Leo had pushed him away, the trio of deadly claws digging deep into his arm, and putting him out of commission, at least temporarily. Crap, he thought, before letting out a shout. "Hey! Why don't you try me, you mutt?"

The creature lowered his bulbous head, a low growl trapped in his throat. He scratched the ground with his heavy paw, and for a moment it looked like he was going to charge like an enraged bull... but then his maddened scarlet eyes focused on his opponent, and something in his demeanor changed: the slimy fur of his back stood to attention, his ears flattened against his skull and his black lips twitched; it was as if the direwolf was unwilling to do the first move, all of a sudden.

Is it possible that he... recognized me?, Drake wondered. "Wyatt...?" he murmured, looking at the misshapen animal. "Can you... can you hear me? Is it you, inside that..." Creature. Beast. Monster. Abomination. Thing. "Is it you?"

He barely had time to register that Wyatt had jumped forward before crouching with a gasp that emptied his lungs and made his entire body struggle for air. The beast flew above him, his powerful jaws snapping the air where Drake's head had been a couple seconds before; the direwolf's growl of frustration was cut short as he crashed against a nearby tree, turning into a pained yelp. Drake felt a cold stab in his chest: that noise sounded so much like Wyatt that for a moment his eyes were blurry with tears.

"I'm sorry, Wyatt, I..." he said, turning around, but the direwolf had already recovered and was ready to attack again. This time, Drake wasn't fast enough, and one of the direwolf's claws ripped the denim of his jeans and pierced his skin, drawing a decent amount of blood. The werewolf cried and stumbled backwards as the beast circled around him, a demented grin plastered on his muzzle. Drake noticed - the adrenaline rush from the fight making his senses even sharper than the usual - that the monster's dick was hard outside his shaft: a good foot and a half long, pulsating, tinged in a sickening purple that reminded Drake of the bruise on his arm, leaking a malodorous pus-like ichor. He wants to fuck me, Drake thought, gulping, even though the knot inside his throat felt as solid as a rock. He wants to fuck me and kill me, and not necessarily in this order. He growled at the monster, his back and arm muscles straining his jacket in an effort to make him look more imposing and threatening, his claws ready... and yet, he was at a loss. [/i]I need to do something, but what? I can't... I can't hurt him. Wyatt is in there somewhere. Even if I know I need to if I want to be able to capture him and restrain him and possibly cure him... I can't bring myself to hurt him.[/i]

A sizeable rock - at least seven pounds, considering its size - flew in an elegant arc and hit the direwolf straight in the flank. The creature yelped in surprise and pain and turned his head, seemingly forgetting about Drake to see who had dared to throw a rock at him... before a second rock, smaller this time, stroke him squared between the eyes.

"What? Are you angry with me?" Leonardo growled with unexpected bravado, a third improvised bullet in his left hand. His right arm seemed to be doing better, or at least had stopped bleeding, even though the werewolf regenerative factor was most probably still patching him up from the inside. "W-well, you better be! You hurt my alpha, you idiot!"

The direwolf snapped his jaws at him in annoyance, before the third stone hit his left back leg. "Leo, no!" Drake snapped as the monster turned around, with the clear intent of running towards him. "Oh, no, you're not going... anywhere..." His teeth gritted, Drake grabbed the direwolf by the tail and managed not to lose his grip, despite the sliminess of the fur. At first, he felt like he was trying to stop a truck by pulling a rope: the direwolf simply tried to swat his tail to get rid of him, while advancing towards Leo with implacable pace. "Fuuuuuuck..." Drake shouted, his face red with effort. "Leave... him... alone!" He felt his whole body twitching as he doubled his effort to keep the werewolf away from his beta. He had to protect him, he had to keep his safe, it was his duty! With another mighty roar, Drake pulled and pulled, sinking his clawed, padded feet into the muddy soil; his coat let out a long wail as the seams started to pop, and the garment was split in the middle as his back muscles had a prodigious growth spurt... and then, the direwolf stopped making any progress, no matter how hard he pushed forward. He tried turning around, but his body was too bloated, too misshapen to be able to bite Drake; he tried kicking him with his powerful back legs, but only managed to almost lose balance.

"Told you you weren't going anywhere!" Drake exclaimed while still puffing from effort, as the direwolf stared at him with unbridled rage, his hard-on still dripping vile pre on the dark soil. "Leo, now!"

The monster turned around, but it was too late: Leo had already jumped. The young werewolf - eyes ablaze, an expression of primal excitement on his face - hit the creature straight on the head with the rock he was holding with both hands. The horrible being let out a cry of pain and shock, before collapsing on the ground, his massive limbs twitching. Leo let the weapon fall in front of his feet and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "This should give us some time, I hope."

"Good job," Drake replied. He looked down at the direwolf: his huge chest was still contracting and expanding. He doubted a hit like that could have killed such a beast, but still... "So, what should we do? 'Cause I have no idea."

"Maybe we can just wait for Inori and the others to be back?" Leo suggested.

That would have definitely been the most responsible thing to do. The most mature and logical. But looking down at the slimy, disgusting mockery of a werewolf lying at his feet, Drake was more than willing to throw logic and maturity out of the window, at least for that night. "There must be something I can do in the meantime. I can just stay here and wait," he said, and Leo nodded at that.

"Somehow, I knew you would have said that," he added with a small smile. "I don't know what you should do, though... I mean, I've been a werewolf for less than a week. My instinct, my scars, they all scream that I should kill the monster, but... that's not the solution, of course." Leo's tail swished in the air behind him as he walked to Drake. "Maybe we need to bite him again? After all, that's what turned us into werewolves in the first place."

Drake scratched his chin. "If it was so easy, I'm sure Moira would have mentioned it. It must be something even she is not familiar with..."

Leonardo looked down at the beast. "Then, maybe..." he took a step forward, and as he raised his hand to caress Drake's cheek with padded fingers, he placed a kiss on his lips. Drake, still coming down from the adrenaline rush, leaned into the kiss, pushing his tongue inside Leo's lips, turning it into a proper make out session.

After the kiss was over, Drake looked at his beta with hazy eyes. "W-what?" he asked, panting. Inside his pants, he could feel the tapered point of his wolf dick emerging from the furry sheath. Leo grinned.

"You need to prove to Wyatt that you are an alpha and that you are asserting dominance, right? That's what you told me, the night you gave me the bite. And you guys told me you can also turn someone through sex, so..."

Drake's eyes widened as he let out a small gasp. He's right, he pondered. "I mean, after all..."

"After all?"

"Wyatt never made me top," Drake confessed.

"Never?" Leo replied, looking confused.

"I think... he was afraid I was going to try and dominate him if I did. Try and get his rightful place as alpha away from him."

Leo chuckled. "That's stupid. I topped you and nothing like that has happened."

Drake felt a warm glow spreading through his chest as he stared at his beta - his cute, gentle, wonderful beta - with a lopsided smile on his face. "I love you, Leonardo," he said, hugging him and nuzzling him, their beards brushing together and eliciting soft moans from both of them.

"I love you too, Drake." Leo's hand cupped his alpha's balls through his pants, giving them a small squeeze. "Now take your pants off, I need to make sure you are ready."

"Yes..." Drake groaned and growled, as he unbuckled his pants and revealed his plump scarlet doggy dick. Leo knelt in front of him, like a faithful warrior ready to be knighted by his lord, and licked the cock from the base up to the point, causing it to spurt out a gob of pre.

"Mmmh... almost ready, I think," Leo mused, before his lips wrapped around the pillar of red flesh and he bobbed his head up and down, fellating his alpha. Drake murred, closing his eyes for a second and sinking his claws into Leo's hair.

"Oh, yeah, boy..." he grinned, lost in the moment, almost forgetting about the reason why they were in the woods. "I think it's perfect now..." Leo smiled and stopped sucking, but not after having given the throbbing wolf cock one last long lick. Does it look a bit longer than before?, Drake pondered, studying his own penis. It definitely looked more sizeable and imposing than the last time he had taken a good look at it, both in size and girth. "Well, doesn't matter now..." he said to himself as he lifted the direwolf's tail. The black, pulsating, quivering ring of muscles looked like a giant leech, and almost made him gag. At least it doesn't seem dirty..., Drake thought as he pushed his erection inside the pucker, encountering very little resistance. He knew he was doing something wrong, that he was basically having sex with someone without their consent, in a way... but he felt like there was no other way, not if he wanted to get his boyfriend back.

At first, nothing happened: Drake just pumped and pumped, his sides thrusting back and forth in powerful arcs, hoping that would prove the direwolf how strong, how dominant, how much of an alpha he was... but the only result he seemed to obtain was for the creature to start getting restless, as if he was on the verge of waking up once again. Drake opened his mouth to warn Leo, but no words came out... no words Drake himself could hear, at least. It was as if his entire head was slowly getting wrapped in layer after layer of cotton balls. The dark forest in front of him started losing its contours, then Leo, then the direwolf. Drake tried to scream, but to no avail, as his brain was submerged under a sea of nothingness and his mind blanked.

***

Drake blinked. White. He blinked again. Nothing changed. "Not again!" he growled in frustration; his words echoed in the immaculate dome inside him, the den of the beast in his heart. "I don't fucking have time for this!"

Silence. Another voice - deep, primal, imposing - drilled right into his ears. You are here for a reason.

Drake bared his teeth, trying to growl, waiting for the familiar sensation of his canines developing into fangs... and yet, nothing happened to his body. No claws, no tail, no changes in his musculature and body fur. He just stood there, naked, caked in mud and blood, with a pathetic expression of strained effort on his face. "I know you are here!" he screamed at the white void. "Come out! Now!" The young man grabbed the leather string around his neck, holding the fang-shaped pendant he always seemed to wear while inside his mind, and ripped it off, tossing the necklace far away from him. "I'm fucking tired of your games! Bring me back!"

Such disrespect, the beast in his heart boomed all around him. But if that is what you want, so be it. Not even a moment later, all the air inside of Drake's lung was forcibly pushed out by a gigantic paw pinning his chest against the ground. The mental image of his wolf side was towering above him, dark grey fur covering a frame as big as an SUV. I told you, you are here for a reason. You will be quiet, and you will listen.

"Let me go!" Drake shouted, squirming under the weight of the beast's arm, his hands clenched into fists. The man panted as he stared into the inscrutable golden gaze of the giant wolf, his forest green eyes full of tears. "I was out there for a reason! I was trying to save him! And now... a-and now I..."

And now you are still out there. Look. The wolf nodded towards his right, and Drake turned his head: a section of the curve white wall closest to them was turning milky and misty, as if it was made of vapor. Colors emerged out of nowhere, shifting and merging, until they created an image: an image of a wooded area shrouded in darkness, only the moon and the stars shining over the trees and over the two figures that could be discerned. As the ghastly image got clearer and clearer, it became progressively adamant that what was happening inside of it was a perfect reproduction of whatever was going on inside the small glade.

What prowess, the beast in his heart told him as they both stared at Drake's physical body pounding the direwolf in the butt. His face was devoid of any emotion, his eyes droopy and his mouth slightly open, enough for a small tendril of drool to slither out, but he was fucking that monster for all that was worth. You definitely have the stamina for something like that.

Is he mocking me or what?, Drake grumbled internally, but despite the embarrassment that filled his chest as he watched his physical body boning a direwolf, he was feeling a bit less worried now. "So? I'm here for a reason, right?" he growled, once again focusing his gaze on the beast pinning him on the ground. "Let's get it over with, then."

The giant wolf above him snickered. Do you really think it is going to be that easy? You want to save him from himself, and yet you do not even know who you are.

"That... that is not true! Now I know, I know I am an alpha!" Drake protested, despite the fact that he had never felt more impotent in his life, not even when he was trapped in that hole in the woods.

The beast in his heart smirked. And what does it mean to be an "alpha", little one?

Drake gulped. "I... I, well..."

See? You do not know. And what does the word "alpha" itself mean, anyway? Or "beta", or "omega"? They are random Greek letters used just because our species was created by Zeus, and they somehow found their way inside a human book about wolf behavior, despite the fact that werewolves and actual wolves behave nothing alike. The beast fell silent for a moment, before pointing one huge claw of one of his equally massive front paws towards the vision made out of smoke and colors. What do you think you are doing, out there?

Despite everything that was happening, Drake couldn't help but blush. "D-do we really need to talk about that?"

Answer.

"I was..." Drake sighed. "I was trying to assert my dominance over him, but I guess that's not the right thing to do, is it?" The beast just stared at him, in complete silence. Since it didn't have any quip or remark to do, Drake hypothesized he was on the right path. "You said you are me, right? I remember it, the first time I was here. You told me 'I am you and you are me. You are as strong and worthy as I am'. Well, if you are me, then I should know too, right? So why don't you tell me?"

That was back when Wyatt was your alpha, the beast in Drake's heart replied. i]And his ideas had... an influence on both of us, so to speak.[/i] The giant wolf lowered his head, his blazing amber irises setting Drake's mind on fire. But now it is different. Now you are you own pack leader, which means you have to find your own answers instead of relying on someone else.

"Listen, I have no time for playing charades, I..." Drake tried to protest, but once again the beast in his heart pressed one of his paws on his chest.

Do I really need to spell it out for you? The beast looked around, at the white void surrounding them. What do you think this place is? Have you ever asked yourself that?

"I mean, this is my... mind, right?" He wasn't sure, of course. He had asked himself that question multiple times, but he had never reached a satisfactory answer.

The beast snickered. Why should your mind be completely empty? Oh, wait, unless...

Okay, now he's definitely mocking me. "Well, if it's not my mind, then what is it?"

The wolf stared at him in silence. A waiting room.

"A... waiting room?"

Exactly. I have been waiting here, since you got bitten by Wyatt.

Drake looked up at the beast in his heart. He seemed... melancholic, all of a sudden. "Well, you have been waiting for me, right? But I'm here, I've always been here, since the first time we met! So... what's wrong? Why are you still waiting?"

The giant wolf blinked. Because you have yet to reach for me. You still do not understand who I am. You still do not know my name. At this point, you should know already, you should know who I am. I am...

"Me," Drake said in a whisper, his eyes getting larger. "I am... me. There's no 'you', there's never been a you. I am a human and I am a wolf, and there's no distinction between the two of us."

It was as if a huge weight was lifted from Drake's body... quite literally, to be exact: the huge wolf that towered above him looked down for one last time, a semblance of a grin on his face, before dissolving in wisps and plumes of grey and black smoke. The young man sat up, scratching his neck, trying to figure out what had just happened, when a familiar voice spoke from right behind him.

"Well, took you long enough!" Drake turned around, and a hand - sporting padded fingers and dark, pointed claws - appeared in his field of view. "Come on, let's get you up."

The person in front of Drake was Drake himself: same brown ponytail, same goofy smile, same muscles under the skin - except maybe a bit bigger? - and even the same nipple piercings... but he was also sporting fangs, pointed ears, a big bushy black tail, an erect canine dick and, much to Drake's surprise, the most amazing and mesmerizing pair of turquoise eyes. Blue-eyed Drake grinned from cheek to cheek. "So? Any questions?"

"So, the wolf was y... I mean, me. The wolf was me this entire time," Drake said, even though it was pretty obvious at that point.

"After all, this is our... my psyche," the other Drake replied with a grin. "There is no 'us'. Only me." He placed a hand over Drake's left pec, as if to feel his heartbeat. "I am me."

Drake smiled back, and did the same. "I am me," he proclaimed, staring at his doppelganger's mystical blue eyes. And where less than a second later two almost identical guys were, now only one stood: he didn't have turquoise irises, just regular golden ones, but he had a tail, claws and fangs. He was a human, he was a wolf, and he was everything in between.

Finally, he was complete.

With care, he reached for the fang necklace lying on the immaculate floor, picked it up and tied the leather strap around his neck once again; he turned his head, looking at what was happening in the glade through what he now realized was probably just one of his eyes.

"Wait for me, Wyatt," he proclaimed, a smile on his lips. "I'm coming."

***

"Is he..." Moira, Ian, Leah and Craig were marching towards the glade, after leaving the motocross bikes at around a quarter of a mile from there. Around the circle of trees, at least a couple dozens were waiting. Everyone had a weird expression on their face, which made the four keepers think of the worst case scenario.

Cordelia turned towards the approaching quarter, her face grim. "Yes. He is," she said, her voice flat.

Moira gulped. "Drake is dead?"

The other woman seemed mildly surprised. "Oh, no, of course not. He's... copulating with the direwolf," she explained.

Craig bursted into hysterical giggles. "Copulating..." he repeated under his breath, before Cordelia and Moira sending him daggers with their eyes forced him to put himself together. "Sorry."

"For the love of Nyctimus, that boy is so dumb, I swear..." the head keeper grumbled. "I did tell everyone not to engage the target, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did, Moira," her grandkids replied in unison with identical smirks on their faces.

"But of course nobody ever listens to me," she said, snapping her and immediately catching the attention of each and every werewolf standing in her vicinity. "Is the direwolf unconscious?" she asked, and a couple of them nodded. "Good. We need to create a circle around the two, so let's get moving."

"Even if Drake is... well..." Angela asked, and even in the darkness of the woods in was clear that she was blushing.

"Yes, even if Drake is... copulating," Moira replied. The old woman stepped into the glade and - unlike pretty much everyone else - stared directly at the young man standing in the middle of it, his side gyrating, his penis buried deep into the collapsed beast in front of him, and her eyes narrowed: there was definitely something wrong with him. His face was hollow and empty, as if he was nothing but a physical body moving due to mechanical stimuli. "We need to hold each other's hands," Moira explained to the rest of the crowd. "But nobody dare to start singing." She could feel the werewolves were uneasy, especially Wyatt's parents and pack members, and not just because of what Drake was doing: having to stare at a loved one having been twisted into a grotesque monster was definitely no easy feat. "We are getting him back, don't you worry," she said, her eyes darting from Cordelia to Richard to the wolves under her care. "Now focus on him. Think about him."

"And... this is it?" Leo, three people on her right, asked in an incredulous tone.

Kid, you've been a werewolf for like six days. Do me a favor and shut up, Moira grumbled inside her mind, but never turned her acrimony into proper words. "Yes, that's it," she said instead. "The rest is up to Drake." So be sure not to disappoint me, you dummy. A shadow of a smile appeared on her lips as she focused on everyone present one by one and began the arduous endeavor of weaving their heartbeats into one.

***

When Drake regained his senses, the first thing he realized was how cold he was all of a sudden. His mindscape was always warm in a very pleasing way, like a comfy bedroom in the middle of winter, which made sense since he was always buck naked whenever he was there... but now that he was using the majority of his energies to try and fuck some sanity and humanity back into his boyfriend, the cold February night was seeping deep into his body, scratching his very bones with claws made of hard ice. I wonder how long I can go on like this..., Drake thought in a somewhat gloomy tone: the direwolf didn't seem to be affected by his newfound unity, and he was once again starting to feel at a loss.

Then, Drake's eyes wandered from the unconscious beast to the ring of people surrounding them, and his budding feelings of dejection were eclipsed by a wave of embarrassment, so much so that for a moment his penis almost slipped out of the direwolf's hole. Wha... what the hell is happening here?!, he screamed inside his own mind, startled. Everyone was there: the rest of his pack, Cordelia and Richard, Moira and her grandkids, Craig... even a lot of werewolves he wasn't acquainted with, or that he only knew by name. All of them were creating a circle around him, hand in hand, eyes closed - for quite an obvious reason, he grimaced - and, as much as it might have been weird, they looked like they were all breathing in unison.

This must definitely be one of Moira's plans, he rationalized, his eyes staring at the old keeper. But how is all this supposed to help me?, he added. He definitely couldn't ask the woman in question, since both her and all the other people around him seemed concentrated on whatever they were doing, and the last thing Drake wanted was to break the ritual.

I don't get it, he thought. Without realizing it, he had started to pant, and his knees and sides felt like they were catching fire. But I don't have much time left. I need to find a solution, or otherwise... He stopped thinking, hoping to hear a familiar, gruff, deep voice inside his heart guiding him on the right path, but nothing came. Of course, he has never been there... it was just me this entire time, Drake pondered, bitter. But I guess that means I should know the answer already? I just need to think, or at least remember... when did I talk about direwolves the last time? His eyes darted from Moira to Craig, then to Cordelia and Richard, then to his packmates. I know I did, I'm sure of it... but when? His stare focused on Inori, her ink black hair shining weakly under the cold star of the waning moon, then on Leo... and in that moment, he remembered.

"And, well... most of all, direwolves are the loneliest and most tragic creatures in existence; so lonely that even their two halves never meet. Showing them a genuine bond is another bane, for them." He had told the former hunter those exact words, minutes before he had given him the bite; it was less than a week ago, but to Drake's mind, it felt like ages had passed since then... but that didn't really matter. What mattered was that Drake had the answer he needed, and it wasn't domination.

It was love.

And it was only in that very moment that he noticed: the warm, comforting wall of heartbeats surrounding him and the direwolf, the strength of the bonds between all the keepers and the werewolves gathered there all fused into one single powerful and yet delicate sound that permeated Drake and made him purr with delight as it placated the pain and tiredness in his limbs and the coldness in his body. This is not just a circle of people, Drake realized as a grin appeared on his face. This is a barrier.

"I really don't like any of you, but I'd die before revealing your secret." That was what Moira had told him right before his very first full moon night as a werewolf, and it was the same now as it had been then; Drake glanced at the keeper, the smile on his face widening. Damn, you old bat! You really know everything, huh?, he thought, before realizing - less than one second later - that Moira also knew how to mind read. Oh, well...

Drake closed his eyes, focusing on the choir of heartbeats all around him as he synched the rhythm of the sexual act with it. It was so soothing that, despite the grim situation, he couldn't help but giggling; it was as if inside of the communal harmony, he could distinguish the different voices, as if each and every heartbeat had something different to tell him.

We can do it. We can bring Wyatt back, Angela said.

Come on, Drake! You're my big bro, after all!, Chance said.

We have all been improving thanks to each other. Together we are stronger, Kaylee said.

I'm happy to be your friend and packmate, now and always, Patrick said, the voice of his heart loud and clear.

I'm proud of you, boy. And I'm proud of Wyatt, too... so proud of him. Maybe I should tell him that more often, Richard said.

You can save my son, Drake. I know you can, Cordelia said.

You're the first person that made Talia lower her gaze... well, except me, of course. I'm sure you can do it, Craig said.

Come on, Drake!, Ian said.

Come on, Wyatt!, Leah said.

Don't get me wrong, you are both supremely dumb... and yet, I can't help but liking you both, Moira said. But call me "old bat" one more time and I'll make your testicles shrivel and fall off, I swear.

Wyatt, Drake... you saved my life. Now I need to do my part, Inori said.

I love you, alpha. I love you, Wyatt. Please come back safe and sound, Leo said.

Drake sighed, before adding his own voice to the symphony of emotions. You know, Wyatt... looking back at the time when everything changed, you were a real asshole. I mean, you basically left me no other choice than to become a werewolf just because you were somewhat curious about me. You are impatient, impulsive, capricious, you hold grudges and you are as stubborn as a mule... but if I could go back in time to that night, knowing everything that has happened during these months, I would accept your offer every time. You gave me a second family, a pack, the chance to meet a lot of wonderful people... and the chance to save Inori and Leo, too. And, well... before knowing you, I would have never even considered the idea of loving another man the same way I love you. But now I do. I love you, and I hope my love will be able to reach you, wherever you are.

Drake focused on the heartbeats, on the breathing rhythm, on the feelings of everyone around him, and made them his own. And then, under his clawed hands, the direwolf body started quivering and pulsating, contracting as if it was becoming smaller... and indeed, it was. He tried to maintain his grip over the slimy dark fur - fur that was falling in clumps and dissolving into ash before even touching the ground - but before he realized it, his erection had slipped out of the direwolf's hole as the body of the creature kept shrinking. Drake hastily pulled his pants back on before any of the people forming the circle could have the chance to open their eyes and notice, and stared at the trembling mass of flesh and decomposing fur in front of him, holding his breath. Something was happening, but how could he be sure that it was the right thing?

Under his gaze, the dark figure shifted towards pale pink, becoming more and more humanoid with every passing second. Tears started streaming down Drake's face as the matter black fur of the direwolf's head became the exact shade of golden yellow he would have recognized among a thousand similar others; with frenetic movements, he took his coat off - paying no attention whatsoever to the freezing cold - and crouched down, as the limbs of the creature became more slender and elegant, and the eyes in his rapidly shifting muzzle turned from bloody red to gold to warm chestnut brown...

"It's okay. It's okay," Drake murmured as Wyatt - human Wyatt, his Wyatt - laid on the dark ground in a fetal position, panting from his open mouth, cheeks wet with tears. He was vaguely aware that the people around him had opened their eyes and they were saying something, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that Wyatt was back.

With careful movements, Drake wrapped Wyatt in the coat the best he could and lifted him up in his arms. His boyfriend didn't say anything, he barely moved; he just nestled against his chest a bit, shivering from the cold. He felt so painfully light, even lighter than how Leo had been when he had brought him to Underhill House.

The sound of frantic pants forced Drake to turn around: a small group of people wrapped in winter clothes had just arrived - keepers, Drake's nose told him - and were staring at the group with quizzical looks on their faces. The man walked to a man and a woman in their fifties that his brain vaguely recognized as Angela's adoptive parents.

"Do you have a car?" he asked. Mrs. O'Leary looked up at him.

"Yes, but..." Drake nodded.

"Can you bring me... us back to Underhill House, please?" Behind him, he could feel Richard take a step towards him.

"Drake, wait, we should..."

"No," Cordelia said to her husband. "He earned it." Drake felt a hand patting against his shoulder, and the relief in the woman's heart. "We will see you both in the morning. I will make sure to prepare the best breakfast you have ever eaten in your entire life, Drake."

The journey back home was short and silent; nobody dared to talk, even though Mr. and Mrs. O'Leary kept glancing nervously at Drake in the rearview mirror. Wyatt sat next to Drake, still wrapped in the coat, his eyes low, his expression impenetrable. When Angela's parents parked in front of Underhill House, Wyatt allowed Drake to pick him up again, and the two walked through the front door, Drake carrying his silent, cold, naked boyfriend in his arms.

Wyatt's sisters were standing at the living room door, their eyes betraying anxiety and lack of sleep. One of Talia's hands rested on her belly, while the other laid on Grace's shoulder; the younger girl opened her mouth to say something and tried to take a step forward, but Talia tightened her grip and shook her head, wordlessly. Drake looked at her, and she nodded. Good job, her stare said.

Drake carried Wyatt up to the bathroom, carefully lowered him to the shower floor, undressed himself and washed both himself and his boyfriend, feeling with relief that his touch and the hot water were slowly bringing warmth back into Wyatt's body. Drake sighed as he rinsed his alpha's hair - because, despite everything, Wyatt was still his alpha - and noticed that his fang earring was missing, lost somewhere in the forest during his horrific change into a werewolf. It was such a small detail, and yet it felt so strange, so wrong to see him without it.

"Let's... let's get you to bed, okay?" Drake murmured after drying Wyatt off with a warm towel. The other werewolf looked at him, but his lips didn't part, no word came out of his mouth. It was only after the two of them were under the blanket together - still naked, Wyatt almost as warm as he usually was - that he said something.

"I... am sorry," he whispered, his voice raspy and feeble like the creaking of an old door. "A-and... thank you."

Drake felt a tight knot in his throat; for a moment, he felt the all-encompassing, desperate need to kiss Wyatt's lips, but... no. Not now. Tomorrow, for sure, countless times, but... not now. So, he just wrapped his arm against his mate's shoulder and pulled him closer. "You should rest, now," he said, trying to sound mature and reasonable. "We both should."

"When I first met you and I... I made you into what you are now," Wyatt murmured, as Drake hadn't even spoken. "It was just because... I thought you were cute, and weak, and vulnerable. That you could be a great beta. And then, you became so strong... stronger than I could ever imagine." He fell silent, and for a moment Drake was afraid that was going to be it, that Wyatt was never going to forgive him for having become an alpha. "But, Drake, I want you to know... if I could go back in time to that night one thousands times, knowing what will happen... I would offer you the bite every single time." A pale shadow of a smile appeared on Wyatt's lips. "You know, it's kinda funny... I turned you into a werewolf in that glade in the woods, and now you've turned me back into a werewolf in the exact same place... really makes you think, huh?"

Before Drake could reply, Wyatt let a soft sigh out, closed his eyes and slipped seamlessly into the sea of sleep. Drake looked down at his boyfriend, caressed his hair for a moment - his dozing face looked so innocent and adorable he had to force himself not to kiss his forehead - and then relaxed against the pillows, dozing off.

Maybe things weren't going to be exactly the same as before... but they were going to be alright.

(next chapter: Wild Things Forever)