13. Mutt

The second Jeffrey left for work the following day, I knew what I had to do. Maybe it wasn't normal protocol for humans, but it felt right to me as I shifted to open the window, then shifted back into my wolfskin to take to the dirt toward my temporary home.

It was a wonder he hadn't figured out what I was yet, but I was grateful.

Because it meant I was able to spend every minute I could spare with him.

Still though…I craved the closeness of skin, and today, I planned to talk to him again, fur be damned.

The little house we'd rented was technically still in town, though it was on the border between Silas's pack grounds and Elmwood. They'd placed us there on purpose because Dad had no choice but to warn both officials of my condition. And everyone figured it was safer.

That wasn't the only thing in place for everyone's safety, however.

There was a number on the fridge.

A number we were supposed to call should I lose myself.

It was supposed to be a last resort—but with both the local pack and SAC's awareness of my moonsickness, there was very little room for error. If we called that number, the hunters would swarm in, and it'd inevitably end in my death.

Which was…scary.

I can admit that.

It was fucking scary.

And it wasn't fair.

I hadn't asked for this. I hadn't been asked to be born this way. Hadn't asked to be betrayed by my moon mother so early. Most alphas had plenty of time before they picked their mate. As per law, we had to wait till we were twenty years old. In the old days, before SAC had officially come to be, some packs would marry their alphas off as early as twelve. So it made sense to have regulations.

And in most cases, twenty was plenty early.

Yeah.

I was just unlucky.

But…I wasn't the only unlucky one. Because while I was dealing with the side-effects of my nature, Jeffrey had been through far worse.

I'd bided my time, patient as I soaked up Jeffrey's attention in my wolfskin and did my best not to want more. Touching him was nice, smelling his scent, listening to the sweet croon of his voice as he strummed the instrument his scent told me he loved. But it wasn't enough . Because I knew what he tasted like. I knew what noises he made when he was aroused. I knew what his cum tasted like—and I…well…

I was greedy.

Apparently.

I had never been a greedy person before, so this came as a surprise.

Because after a couple weeks of pretending to be his pet, existing beside him wasn't enough anymore. I knew the more time we spent together when I was in my humanskin, the more dangerous those interactions became. Soon I'd become something more than a man he found pleasure with, even though I'd been honest about what time we had together—and that would hurt him inevitably when I left.

But I needed more.

I needed it like I needed air, or water—or the moon's gentle caress.

I needed to talk to him, to know him. To listen to his laugh, to see him smile and know I was the cause of it. To know what it felt like to mount him fully. To hold him together when he threatened to fall apart. To right the wrongs that had been done to him when he'd been nothing but a pup.

To show him not everyone was bad, and that I would keep him safe, just like I'd promised.

Jeffrey hardly ever smiled, and when he did it was brittle.

Like he was porous and rough.

It was a smile I was after today, as I bounded over a log and decided to throw away my worries for now and focus on Jeffrey.

Trees in Maine were just as tall as the trees back home. Though my woods were dotted with the pale white bark of aspens, Elmwood's forests consisted primarily of densely packed pine and maple trees. With full, fat leaves that waved in the breeze. Pretty as a watercolor painting.

I knew what watercolors were because Mama taught me. She painted sometimes, on the rare occasion she adopted her humanskin. When I was a pup, I'd watch her, sitting at her feet, the gentle strokes of her brush wooshing through my ears as she created masterpieces out of thin air.

The walls of our childhood den were coated in haphazardly placed art pieces she'd made. The canvases varied in shape and size, all colorful, depicting visions of water that stretched far enough the world ended, and deserts so vast just looking at them made me feel small. In some rooms, even the walls were decorated. Altered into landscapes that made you feel like you were traveling the world, even when you weren't.

I'd been a homebody since birth.

I rarely left the pack grounds—and when I did, it was to hunt or forage. To visit with the trees, to dip inside the sparkling rivers, to stretch out my legs for as long as I could before Dad's howls ultimately called me back. As I'd gotten older he'd let me stay out longer and longer. I'd ran farther and farther. Especially after the day the moon turned her back on me, and I knew my time was limited.

All alphas went through this. Dad told me it was normal, but there was an ache in me hollow and dark that I knew wasn't right, no matter how often he told me it was.

After my eighteenth birthday I could manage several weeks alone without anyone thinking something was amiss, lurking between the trees and listening to the birds, content to gorge myself on nature's treasures when I was hungry, and not a moment before.

I'd hunt for prey and bring it home, leaving it on the edges of the compound to help sustain us.

Other than that, the full moon was the only thing that forced me to return to pack grounds now. The woods became my home as much as the cottage we grew up in and the compound our pack resided inside. A giant reserve off the beaten path with a crystalline lake and buildings that grew more crowded with every passing year.

I knew the compound like the back of my hand.

Knew the fastest way to get to the creek. Knew which roads to avoid and when. Knew every flavor the local and only ice cream shop served. Knew every nook and cranny, every crack and crevice, every tree and flower.

It was comfortable.

Safe.

My brothers had been surprised when I'd suggested we go to Maine. Shocked even. It was far away. Way farther than anyone had expected someone to suggest—least of all me. Before that moment I'd had no interest in leaving. I'd always thought Mama's paintings were enough—that I could travel the world through them and be content.

When I stood in front of Dad, the Pack Alpha, I felt every inch of my frame. Silence filled the room the moment I took my humanskin, and I could feel the weight of every single wolf present as I opened my mouth and begged.

"This is what you want?" Dad asked, his eyes soft, lips thin as always. He was a kind man, though quiet. "Maine?"

"Yes," my hands shook, because I had no idea what I'd do if he said no. I'd have to leave, at least temporarily. My heart was calling me from across the country, after all. I'd have to come back, I knew that. I had no choice. "I want to set up a new branch for the compound in Maine," My heart pounded. "It is the perfect spot. Similar in climate to home, but far enough away for growth and to strengthen the pack. There is a town—" my throat clicked. "It is a sanctuary. We would be safe beside it. There is a broad stretch of land up for sale that I know would work perfectly, and it is well within the budget you proposed. The local pack is friendly, and open to us expanding."

"You've researched this," Dad had said, talking slow and even, like always. His blue eyes flickered—the same shade as mine—a sad twist to his lips. "And you'll be back?" He watched me knowingly.

"Yes," I nodded. "I just…I need this. Please." Though the moons hurt, I knew I had at least a few in me before I fully fell beneath the weight of my wolf. There would be plenty of time to return home to bond before I went fully feral. "I'll be back, as promised. Right on time."

"I just want you safe," Dad said, his gray hair glinting. He had furs from my kills all over his chair, and was nursing a giant mug of cocoa, his massive frame making the cup appear normal-sized. I'd inherited his size, much like I'd inherited his eyes. Though sometimes, they felt like a curse, rather than a blessing.

"I know."

He stared at me for what felt like a century before he nodded, lifted his mug to his lips, and took a languorous sip. "Maine," he repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth. "Maine sounds nice. Fun. You'll enjoy it." Whipped cream decorated his silver mustache as he hummed thoughtfully.

I knew why Dad had said yes. It wasn't because of the pack overflow problem, or the location, or the strong SAC associated town next to the land I'd told him I wanted us to purchase.

No.

It was the fact I'd shifted to humanskin.

The fact I'd spoken up at all.

Mama pulled me aside after the meeting was over. Her eyes sparkled, pine needles in her hair, a smudge of dirt across her cheek. There were creases by her eyes. Wrinkles . I was certain they hadn't been there the last time that I'd seen her humanskin. She told me about autumn. About gold, orange, and fiery red. About the pale blue of the crisp sky and the smear of white snow that decorated the mountains.

She told me she was glad I was spreading my wings before I was stuck home for good. That it was good to explore while I was young.

I'd smiled, and it felt like a lie. But I couldn't bring myself to care, because I was protecting something precious. Something special. Something mine, mine, mine.

Something I'd have to give up—because fate dictated I did.

But something mine all the same.

Wasn't even sure I could last the full six months. Though the last moon had been surprisingly forgiving, that was not the norm. With every moon that passed, my shift got harder and harder. Longer and longer. Sometimes I'd remain shifted for days after the full moon rose—feral, trapped in alphaskin and locked away in the basement, only manacles and bruises for company.

"So…lemme get this straight," Butters hummed. "You wanna make a ‘thanks for letting me sex you up' gift basket for a human—who you love—but can't bond with, because he's human?"

"Right."

"But Mom and Dad said you can bond with anyone." Butters frowned. "You just have to choose them."

I stared at him like he was stupid, because he was. "Have you ever heard of a human and a wolf mating?"

Butters frowned harder. Wrinkles multiplied. A car passed by on the street. The clock at the end of the hallway tick tick ticked away.

"No," he shrugged. "I guess not."

I wasn't sure what I was hoping for? Maybe that Butters would tell me I was wrong. And that he'd seen it happen after all. Because if it had happened once it could happen again, right? For me?

But no, I wasn't that lucky.

"I'm still going back home. I just…for now…let me have this." I'd never been more disappointed to be right. Sulking, I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my hair, my lips wobbling. "Basket," I said, a little hoarse. "Basket. I want to make…him a basket."

"And you want to put scentless soap in it?" Butters smiled sunnily, taking pity on me because he could scent my sadness as easily as he saw it. He was half-naked, his hand scratching his belly as he lay sprawled across the sofa in our temporary den, his brow lowered thoughtfully. "Like the one Dad buys us back home?"

"Yes."

"And you want my help?"

"Yes."

"But why… me? " Butters squinted. "Why not Harry? Or Theo? Or even Jules? They'd be better."

"No," I shook my head. "I want you ." It made me a little sad how surprised Butters was that I would choose him, of all my older brothers, to go to for help. He may have been…not the brightest star in the sky, but he was still my big brother. Made me glad I'd trusted him first. Well, second. Seeing as Theo had known about Jeffrey since the vet debacle.

"Your funeral, man," Butters blinked again, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I wonder if you could get it from the grocery store. Pretty sure he special orders it back at home, but…" he shrugged and scratched his belly again. His ears flickered as he thought, long and hard. His tail was thumping, betraying his excitement at having been chosen.

Butters was…for lack of a better word—obtuse.

But he was the brother I usually went to for help because what he lacked in cleverness, he made up for with loyalty. I was sure he'd keep his mouth shut. He was just that kinda guy, and I had a human to woo—and soap to find.

"Where is the ‘grocery' store?" I asked, suddenly regretting not going with my brothers on the tour they'd taken the first night we'd come to town and Harry had offered to drive us around till we knew where everything important was.

"Uhhhh," Butters pursed his lips, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He hadn't gone on the tour either. "Not sure?" He shrugged. "Betcha I could sniff it out though."

Sniff it out.

Yes.

That was a great idea.

"Or Google it." He scrounged around in the couch cushions for a couple minutes, grunting and groaning, his blond tail swaying with his movements where it poked out of the hole he'd cut in his sweatpants. Butters, like me, didn't like losing all of his senses when he was in his two-legged form. "Dropped my phone on my face earlier," he explained. "And it pissed me off. So when it fell, I didn't pick it up again."

Butters crowed in triumph, happiness permeating the room as he found his phone inside a crevice in the couch. He held it out to me, waggling his eyebrows as he tapped a few buttons and the screen turned white as what looked like a…map? showed up.

"Hey Siri. Find. Me. The. Nearest. Grocery. Store," Butters enunciated nice and slow.

"Finding the nearest grocery store." The phone chirped back in what was supposed to be a woman's voice but sounded all sorts of wrong. I stared at the device in horror, terrified to know the damn thing could not only hear me—apparently—but talk to me too.

"If you're making a sex basket, you should put snacks in it." Butters hummed helpfully as the screen changed, and I processed this new information. "Oh. And lube."

"Lube?"

"You know, the slippery shit that comes in a tube." Oh yes. That stuff Jeffrey had made me put on my fingers in the shower. "Don't tell me you've been jerkin' it dry this whole time?" Butters looked horrified.

My cheeks flushed.

"Oh man," he sighed, like finding out I hadn't known what lube was, was the worst thing ever. "Your poor dick. RIP."

Butters tapped a few things into his phone and then headed for the front door. Halfway through it, he seemed to remember he needed to put a shirt on. Annoyed, he huffed and turned back around. I frowned, commiserating—because I too hated clothing.

It was the stupidest invention humans had come up with.

I followed him into his bedroom, grimacing as the stench of virile-brother-sweat filled my nose. I hated going in there. It was way less palatable than the mixed scent of pack-pack-pack. This was a lot more…concentrated.

"Ha!" Butters found what he was looking for, yanking a t-shirt over his head with a happy hum, before he turned back to face me.

I hated to be a jerk, but…I just…

I did have a few worries.

My scent was worry-concern-anxiety as I spoke. "Will you be able to keep this secret?" I asked, grateful the rest of my brothers were elsewhere. Butters perked up immediately. Then he wilted.

"Well…I dunno." He bit his lip. "I'm not the best with secrets." He frowned. "Remember last year?"

"That was different."

"I told Mama what we got her for her birthday."

"That wasn't an important secret." I wasn't sure why I was being so stubborn about this, but I was. I needed an ally. Needed someone who understood humans better than I did. Who could help me.

I hated asking for help, but I'd do anything to make Jeffrey smile.

"And this one is." Butters cocked his head to the side, his ears flattening. They flickered as he thought, chewing on his lip. "Then yeah. I got you."

I perked up, my own tail wagging happily as I nodded. "Good."

I knew he'd pull through.

"So tell me about your human," Butters said as we headed out of his room, through the house, past the door that led to the basement cell, and out the front door. The woods greeted us, pine cones snapping beneath our feet as we followed the directions on his phone.

By the time I got done explaining the majesty that was Jeffrey, Butters eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "No way," he said, tail thumping against his thighs as it wagged. "No. Freaking. Way."

"He is lovely ," I explained with a proud huff. "He has hair like autumn and spots all over."

"A ginger!" Butters cackled. "That's so sick."

"He is not sick." I glared at him.

"Sorry. My bad. I forgot you were dumb. Lemme educate you." You're the dumb one, I thought but didn't say. "Sick means good in humanspeak."

"Oh."

"Therefore, calling your ginger sick was a compliment." Still though, it was funny how Jeffrey's hair color was the part he latched onto, but I wasn't going to complain. "It's a good thing you came to me." Butters led us through the woods, phone held high, all earlier insecurity forgotten. "Leave it to your big bro, I got this."

Forty minutes later I had lost all confidence in both of us. But me especially. If there was such a thing as the opposite of the woods back home, it would be this place.

The lights were so bright.

And there were so many … things .

Things everywhere. Small things, large things. Things in weird packages. Things covered in plastic and painted bright, overwhelming colors.

Sights. Smells. People .

The sheer amount of objects polluted my senses as I squinted down the length of what Butters had told me was the " cosme-something " aisle, and did my best not to panic. How was I going to find soap with no scent in a place like this? All I could smell was plastic, chemicals, and people.

No.

No .

I was a hunter.

I could do this.

I wanted to surprise Jeffrey, dammit.

I wanted to make him smile.

And I was going to fucking nail this.

I rolled my shoulders back, cracked my knuckles, and glared at the brightly packaged mystery objects. I was grateful I'd memorized the size and shape of the bottles, as I was sure that would help. Half the words on the labels I didn't understand. Acetone, for one. It looked like soap but when I opened the bottle, leaned in and sniffed , the rankest, nastiest smell assaulted my senses.

I dropped the bottle immediately, clawing at my eyes as they burned and more of the foul smelling liquid spilled across my feet. My nose ran a little and even though I was overwhelmed and a little in pain, I pressed onward. I got the lid back on, replaced it on the shelf, and wheezed my way down the aisle.

But a good hunter doesn't give up.

I had learned that lesson the hard way.

The human clothes I'd borrowed from Butters clung to my form and I plucked at them absentmindedly. My ears flattened against my head to block out the sound of those awful things Butters had called "shopping carts" as their squeaky wheels wailed down the aisles.

Butters appeared a few minutes later, his arms full of ice cream containers, his violet eyes soft. "Need help?" he asked, juggling a carton of rocky road so he had a free arm. His tanned bicep flexed and I scowled at him, though it didn't take long for me to relent.

" Please ."

Butters grinned before taking a few steps down the aisle and stood in front of what I now recognized to be an entire section of soap. How had I missed that?

My head hurt.

"Now we just gotta find which one it is." Butters set his ice creams down, his hands on his hips as he hummed. "Do you remember the brand?"

"The what?"

"Never mind." Butters shook his head, frowning thoughtfully. "You can read, right?"

"Of course I can read," I growled. He cackled. I could read. I wasn't good at it, or fast. But I could read. Kind of.

"Hey! No shame," he shrugged. "I just figured since you're usually…hairier than you are right now…you might not be able to."

"Can you read?" I countered, crossing my arms and feeling entirely out of my depth.

"Not really," Butters shrugged again—like that didn't bother him at all. "Never liked it. Never felt like I needed to. Mom tried to teach me but—" If Butters was telling the truth he was lucky. As an omega there were less expectations of him. Even though, as he'd so eloquently put it, I preferred my "hairier" form, I had never been allowed to skip reading lessons.

One day, if I survived, I'd take over the pack from Dad and that meant I had more training than Butters did. Though I could admit, I'd maybe need to brush up on my schooling again to do it.

"How did you pick your ice cream then?" I challenged, sure he was shitting me.

"There's a picture, duh ." Butters shrugged a third time, tapping his chin thoughtfully before glancing at me with a frown. "So how are we going to tell if it's the right one? If you don't know what it's called, and I can't read."

"I could read the bottles." I winced, knowing that could take hours. Just looking at them now, it was hard to tell what was what. The text was tiny, and there were a lot of words I didn't recognize or understand. And everything was in different colors and different fonts, and that only made things worse.

"That would take like a million years, dude." At least I didn't have to explain to him why this wouldn't work.

"What if we sniff them?" I didn't want to risk it, because my nose was still burning from the acetone incident, but…soon it would be too late to hunt Jeffrey down. He had work in the morning. And I had a plan. A big plan. That involved baskets, and sex—and spending a few more good nights with him before I needed to be tied up for the moon.

"Good idea!" Butters said, even though it was a terrible idea. A bit better than reading the bottles, but terrible all the same. By the time we found the only scentless soap in the entire store I felt like my nose was broken.

"What else should I get?" I asked, clutching the bottle to my chest triumphantly, my tail thumping happily.

"Uhhhh," Butters scratched the side of his head, scooping ice cream with his other hand, and shoveling it into his mouth. Both cartons had started to melt, and he ate enough to feed an entire country most days, so he'd decided to finish the cartons and pay for them at the end—rather than waste them. "Snacks. Lube. Like I mentioned before."

"What else?"

"What does he like?"

"He likes…" Hmm. What did he like? He liked music. That was one of the first things I'd learned about him. He had the voice of an angel. "Music? Cheeseburgers." I racked my brain, trying to remember what I'd seen Jeffrey do over the last couple months. "Movies?"

"Yeah, we're not going to find anything music or movie related here."

"Why not?"

"Cuz this is a grocery store."

"I don't understand."

Butters continued to scratch at his head as he thought. "Wait. Except…Oh. Oh yeah. That's totally going to work."

Thirty minutes later, I regretted all my life choices.

Butters and I sat on the curb outside the grocery store, our wolf ears missing, our scents contrite.

"You guys are so lucky I had my phone on me," Harry glared down at us, his hands on his hips. "Assholes."

" Sorry ." Shame crawled beneath my skin—not because of my nudity, but because of the lingering embarrassment left behind from the grocery store. When Butters had pulled chocolate-coated money out of his wallet, I had felt more out of place than I ever had in my entire life. I didn't belong here, in Elmwood. The trees may be familiar, but that was where the similarities ended. To her credit, the cashier had just smiled at the both of us, unaffected, but I'd felt all of two inches tall as Butters counted out the rectangles to pay for his two empty cartons of ice cream, and my gifts.

Only…he hadn't had enough money.

Which was why we'd been forced to call for help.

"What happened to your allowance?" Harry huffed at Butters. "I sent you fifty bucks last week." Butters shrugged, just as embarrassed as I was. "If you spent it on that dumb app again, I am going to scream."

"You gave me digital money," he explained, annoyed. "It's not like it was real."

"Oh my god."

"How am I supposed to use it?" Butters huffed out, annoyed.

"Just because you can't smell it doesn't make it not real." Harry's voice was practically hysterical. "Please tell me you didn't lose your card?"

"What card?"

"The card you've been using to buy the dumb app shit? You know. That card."

"Oh. Oops."

"Jesus Christ." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned on me, violet eyes flaming. "You know what? Never mind." I flinched beneath his attention. "And you! Why the hell don't you have a phone? Do you have any idea how panicked I was when Butters phone died mid-call? I had to fucking hunt you guys down. I know you hate human shit, and technology and blah, blah, blah but at this point it's just absolutely idiotic to not be able to contact you when I need to. You can't be stubborn about this. Not anymore. It's a safety issue now."

I whined, embarrassed all over again. Because he was right.

I'd been far too stubborn about this.

"You don't have clothes. You are constantly stealing Butters stuff. You don't have a phone. You can't drive. You can barely read. And that's all fine and good and whatever. I don't want you to change. Of course I don't! It's fine for you to be the way you are—I just. I am this close to having a mental breakdown at any given time. Between the negotiatons—that you don't fucking come to—worrying about you because you're off getting your dick wet half the week and completely incommunicado, babysitting the blond-haired himbo with a CandyCrush addiction, and Jules and his erotica obsession, I am going to fucking break. Something needs to give." I hadn't considered how much pressure Harry was under, and immediately I felt bad. "I mean…what if something happens to you?" His eyes were wild. " What if you get stuck? " I knew what he meant. Stuck in my wolfskin. Unable to shift. It was the first sign of going fully feral. And the reason there was a number on the fridge in the first place.

"Because if you get stuck I only have twelve fucking hours. Twelve hours before you're put down. Twelve hours, Mutt! And I've got a whole plan. A whole fucking plan, but what use is it, if you can't call me?" Harry continued.

He was right.

Even though I wasn't sure how he expected me to call him if I did get stuck. But still.

I'd been stubborn.

Too stubborn.

My whole life I'd been adamant I didn't want any of the "human" things my brothers liked. I hadn't understood the appeal, or their necessity. But now I just…I hated the look on Harry's face.

I hadn't realized how stressed out he was.

I knew he was doing his best, and I…well…

I'd been selfish.

Been focused on myself and my struggles and hadn't seen that my older brother was breaking. I needed to do better. Besides, lately I could actually see the appeal of a phone. Jeffrey used his a lot and I wanted…well, I wanted to be able to talk to him. There'd be times when I was locked up before the shift hit, and I'd be lonely and alone—and I just…I may not have been able to write all that well, but I could try, couldn't I?

"At this point—I don't even—I just—" Harry pulled at his hair. "Aaughh!"

"Harry." It felt weird talking to him. Not because we weren't close, but because I'd never really used my words with him before. " Harry ?—"

Harry's ranting softened, as did his posture. He sighed, flopping down onto the curb beside us, his scent no longer so acrid. "What?"

"You're right," I said simply.

"I…am?" He blinked, surprised.

"You are," I leaned against him, soaking up his warmth in a way I hadn't in months. Maybe years. Not since his scent had stopped working, and the call of family didn't soften the ache of the moon. Harry whined, a low, needy sound, turning into me and flinging his arms around me. He was leaner than I was, all his bony limbs jabbing into mine as he snuggled in close.

Butters piled on, smashing into us, the scent of chocolate on his breath.

Ew .

The warmth of pack filled my heart. It'd been weeks since I let myself have this. Hell, if I was being honest, it had been a lot longer than that. Even before I'd found Jeffrey and followed him home. Even before I'd returned and asked to be sent here. Maybe since the last time the moon had felt like a friend, and her light had been kind and not an omen.

"I'll do better," I promised, huffing softly into Harry's hair.

"Okay," he said, wilting like he'd lost all his steam. He didn't question our purchases, just simply clung close.

"Now let's go get a phone."