Fated [BlueAmbient & crypticpieces]

[crypticpieces]

The Last Call was located off of the main street, down Cedarbrook Lane. Its exterior had seen better days, as evidenced by the peeling paint, but it had become such a fixture of the town that even its rough appearance conjured fantastic stories of nights gone by. Members of the local Brotherhood chapter often turned up in the dive bar during the evenings when their day jobs had finished and if they weren’t out of town on business.

The inside of the Last Call was dimly lit, with lamps casting an amber glow around the space. Walls of posters, faded, peeling, and overlaid on top of each other like a DIY nightmare acted as decor. From somewhere within the dimness, likely tucked into a corner, was a jukebox that hadn’t been updated since the 90s, still demanding quarters and playing the same set of songs for anyone foolish enough to feed it. Most people didn’t bother seeking it out. Instead, music was dictated by the bartender of the night. In this instance, it was a curvy redheaded woman named Maxine, who enjoyed an aggressive clashing of country and rock.

Three members of the Brotherhood were currently occupying a high-top that wobbled to the right if leaned on too hard. Each was perched on a barstool, drinks at various levels of finished. “It’s your turn,” the woman with magenta-dyed hair declared. Suri was a short, slight woman with noticeably sharp features. A quick glance might suggest that a stiff wind could knock her over and that she spent her time seeking spiritual harmony, but Suri was quick and steady, meticulous, and opposed to spirituality of any kind.

“The fuck it is,” Kieran argued. Kieran was a formidable wall, all bulk muscle from working as a contract logger and fighting things that would rather eat him. He typified a hunter, following function over form: ripped jeans that weren’t a fashion statement but a product of working and shirts he didn’t mind wrecking. “Even if it were, that fucking woman…” He turned his head as though he’d look over at said woman, but the gesture went uncompleted. “She’s got it out for me.”

A vaguely amused smile appeared on Liam as he looked over at Maxine who happened to be the woman in question. Maxine was oblivious, going about her work and watching a game of pool taking place in the back of the bar. Suri’s eyes rolled back into her head. “Jesus, here we go,” she grumbled. “Not wanting to hop on your dick isn’t ‘having it out for you,’ you walnut.”

The unexpected insult, if grabbing a noun to use as an insult like it was a Madlib counted as an insult, made Liam laugh. “Fine. I’m going,” he said as he left his seat and Kieran looked on the verge of saying something outrageous. “I want it noted that it isn’t my turn. You owe me.” Liam, who dressed as though he’d never gotten into any trouble in his life by wearing button-down shirts and vests, intentionally shoulder checked Kieran. Of course, the man didn’t move, but he grinned all the same to get away with not having to approach the bartender again.

Shaking his head in mock disapproval at the struggle of the man who was about a decade his senior, Liam leaned his forearms on the bar, hands clasped in front of him. “Hey, Maxine. How’s it going?”

The redheaded woman turned her gaze toward the question. “Same as every other night.” That was the nice part of being in a quiet little town where nothing ever happened. Too much happened outside; the world was too wild. This place was blissfully predictable. “You three staying a little longer?”

Liam grinned. “Yeah, I suppose. Same as before?”

“Sure, kid.” Maxine was already pulling three freshly cleaned glasses, which were not all of the same size or type.

It was part way through Maxine pouring the first drink that the crack of something made its way through the muffled air of the bar. All at once, Maxine slammed the glass down on the bar with a curse, Kieran was calling Liam’s name, and Liam was turning to see what had happened. As best he could tell, the game of pool had gone sideways, which prompted the loser to break the stick of the winner over the man’s head in the worst type of congratulations. In short order, the men were in a fist fight and knocking into others who were just drunk enough to feel like they had something to prove.

This activity drew Kieran who was more fight than he was human, which pulled Suri along out of a sense of obligation, but not before she was slamming the rest of her drink. She scooted out of her seat and hopped over someone who went skidding across the floor in front of her.

It took no time at all for the whole bar to be involved and those who didn’t want to be were dodging their way toward the door. Looking back to Maxine, Liam shrugged one shoulder at her. “Same as every other night, right?” Mazine looked ready to murder every person in the bar, her face flushed.

Liam had time to turn, register that someone was trying to take a swing at him, and lean back. His response to the hostility was to use the momentum his attacker had already provided to bring the man’s head down into the bartop, making the glass Maxine had set down nearby jitter. Afterward, the black-haired man took the time to roll up his sleeves because as his typical attire indicated, he wasn’t a fighter. He could, but his specialty was elsewhere.

Liam got his second sleeve up right when he felt the blinding white crack of being hit in the face. It threw him sideways into the bar, but he had the presence of mind to push off, grabbing Maxine’s half-full glass, and ducking as he twisted away. The whole movement gave him time to find the source: a man in a blue and black flannel, with a face like a potato. Liam lobbed the glass at him, which was close enough to make his attacker duck and feel cocky enough to grin when it shattered behind him. The potato didn’t expect a punch to immediately follow his short-lived victory, and he went careening backward, knocking into the wall and bouncing off a table he nearly upended. He’d be back, but only after he regained whatever sense he had left.

Maxine had slammed a bat down on the bar, and while she was holding it firmly, she was on the line explaining to the police that “...another God damned fight’s broken out down at the Last Call.” Kieran barged by with a flailing, lanky man in a headlock, dragging him bodily toward the door. Amidst the chaos, Suri was too hard to see on the floor, but she’d hopped up on the pool table and was wielding a broken pool stick and kicking back anyone that thought they were going to take her high ground.

 

[BlueAmbient]

One month ago, Brennan Taylor's wolf pack purchased the 80 acre plot of forested land twenty minutes outside the town. During that month, the whole pack camped in tents or slept outside as their wolves. Everyone pitched in to build the Pack House, a multi-level mansion. Frequent visits to town for construction materials and supplies helped them make a couple connections, but the pack mostly kept to themselves. Let the town think they're reclusive religious group if they want, better to keep them away from the property. Brennan's father had always raised him to co-exist with humans. Don't pick fights, but if you're caught in one, pull your punches, and Brennan had drilled that into his pack time and time again. A second rule Brennan kept is to never go into town alone.

Within that one month, the pack had completed the Pack House and had celebrated, with loud music, lights, and plenty of food and drink in the yard in front of the house. That was last night. Tonight, Brennan brought his two best friends into town with him, to enjoy a Friday night at The Last Call, which he'd heard many good things about from various storekeepers around town. They'd taken up a corner booth, kept to themselves, just enjoying the atmosphere and drinks.

"Well, Brennan, here's to you. You found us a new home, kept spirits up, and gave everyone hope." Sam, Brennan's beta, is on the lean side, choosing agility and speed over bulk in his physique. Blond, blue eyed, and most commonly found in fitted track wear; short sleeve shirt fit tight, comfortable track pants, well worn sneakers. A tattoo of barbed wire and vines wraps a spiral around his right arm, from shoulder to wrist.

"Don't sell yourself short, Sam. You were a huge help keeping everyone organized." Eli is a delta, a mid rank wolf, but was raised alongside Brennan when his parents passed away. Black hair worn long, typically pulled back in a tail, and contrasting with pale blue-grey eyes, he holds a preference for dress shirts and jeans. He's also on the slender side, but less muscle definition than Sam. "Not to mention making sure all our materials and gear were available."

Brennan laughs, listening to them banter. As Alpha, a lot of the organization should have fallen to him. But he'd been otherwise occupied, grieving the recent loss of his father. Without Sam and Eli supporting him, he may very well have crumbled long ago. Brennan lifts his glass of whiskey and leans forward. "Here's to both of you, without whom I never would have been able to make it this far. And to my dad, for his sacrifice." Sam and Eli echo his words, and the three down their drinks.

Then the mood of the bar changes as a fight breaks out. Three heads turn to watch the drunken men, and the group of three run across the bar to.. what, join in, or try to stop the fight? Brennan can't tell. Regardless, the three don't seem to be having much luck stopping it, and only seem to be encouraging it. "Well, that puts a damper on the night. Come on, let's put a stop to this."

Brennan stands, shrugging off his leather jacket. Sam and Eli stand as well. All three are over six feet tall, with Brennan the tallest at six feet six inches. They split off, each headed for a different section of the fight. Their height makes people back off from fighting them pretty quickly. Eli works on calming the seemingly crazy magenta-haired woman, hands up in a placating gesture now that the floor around the pool table is cleared. Sam's speed means he can move between the combatants, hitting pressure points to make them drop to the floor. Brennan is on his way to the guy sent stumbling when that one rushes past him, fists swinging and aimed at the short black haired man. Brenna catches the back of his shirt, and the guy's momentum takes his feet right out from under him, resulting in his ass meeting the floor. Brennan leans over him, teeth bared. "Stay down." There's a heavy growl to his deep voice.

The fight is over as quick as it started. Brennan straightens and looks toward the short man. The first thing he notices is the blood, probably from being hit in the face. Brennan fishes a red handkerchief out of his pocket, walking over and holding it out. "Your face is bleeding. Here, I promise it's clean." Brennan sighs, exasperated by the fact his evening is now ruined. But that sigh means a deep breath, which in turn means inhaling the man's scent. Brennan can't decide how to describe it, but it doesn't matter. It makes his heart leap and his inner wolf howl. Wolves identify their life mates by scent, rather than sight as most humans believe, and Brennan had just found his. Brennan steps closer as his dark hazel eyes burn a bright golden, taking repeated deep breaths and staring this human down.

 

[crypticpieces]

The stored intention of motion made Liam flinch before his attacker was abruptly stopped. Liam was so thrown by the change in events that he had to straighten his posture as a way to shake off the expectation of something that wasn’t going to happen. “Thanks.” He only hesitated a fraction of a second before taking the handkerchief, although stupid instinct makes him touch his face with his free hand first, as though he might have forgotten the sharp throb that was pulsating under his skin if he thought too long about it.

Liam hissed in a breath at the contact, examining the bright red before running his fingers against the handkerchief and setting it to his face. His expression scrunched up, but all that distraction disappeared at the noticeable change in his rescuer’s eyes. Blue eyes widened a fraction, pupils expanding reflexively as he processed the sign of something that wasn’t human. At least ten different groups of supernatural monsters could have eyes that glowed but only three matched that particular color.

Even with his pulse in his ears and not much else, Liam could narrow down what was staring at him. As the local Brotherhood chapter’s Occultist, the majority of his job was identifying a threat and knowing how to shut it down. Still, he needed more than glowing eyes to be sure, but the whole bar, everyone floundering around trying to right themselves and feeling rather foolish, faded out. Liam had stopped breathing at some point.

The rapid resolution of the fight made Suri survey her area and the floor nearby. She readjusted her grip on the broken pool stick and eyed the man trying to soothe her like she was some wild thing. She stepped down like walking off a plank, landing with a little bounce. Small though she was, she peered up with a grin at the last man standing in her vicinity. With a wink and a grin, she threw the broken remains of the pool stick onto the table and marched off, yelling Kieran’s name.

Kieran had thrown a man out and was using his boot to shove another out into the street. “Fuck right off home, Francis. Your wife’ll be looking for you.” Releasing the door, he turned back in with a furrowed brow. “Is that it?” The disappointment didn’t escape Suri who wrinkled her nose and turned her attention toward the bar.

“All good, Maxine?” she asked, hands set on her hips. Her gaze trailed around the room. There were only a few people left standing: them, Maxine, Liam, pool table guy, someone who wasn’t trying to make Liam eat dirt, and another guy who seemed like the one who made quick work of the rest.

It occurred to Liam then that he needed air to go on living. He sucked in a breath and blinked himself back to life. The handkerchief was pulled away from his face under the pretense of trying to determine exactly how badly he’d been hit. He certainly was bleeding, although it would likely stop shortly. What he was going to need was ice, but that was a problem for later. “I’d give this back,” Liam started, “but it doesn’t seem like the most polite thing to do considering I bled all over it.” While his voice sounded perfectly normal, casual to the point of playfulness, that same lightness didn’t make it into his eyes. He was still stunned enough by staring at something that shouldn’t be there that being perfectly deceptive wasn’t possible.

Maxine’s voice sounded over the bodies collecting themselves from the floor: “God damned squirrely… Yeah, I’m fine.” She didn’t sound fine. She sounded as mad as a hornet after someone kicked its nest. “Cops’re coming. Anyone who doesn’t want to have a damned staycation with Sheriff Thompson better get out.” She banged the bat loudly enough to sound like a judge making her announcement clear.

It was the banging that made Liam finally shift his attention, like everything suddenly shoved itself back into place.

Kieran was grinning wildly at the woman he was fanatically, problematically in love with. “Means you too, you mangy leprechaun.” Maxine pointed her bat in the direction of the man who rivaled the men who had calmed the bar in height. “You boys,” she swung her bat toward the three new faces, “you come back next week if you’re up for a round on the house.”

Liam turned back to the creature in front of him with the start of a question before Suri was calling him. “Liam! I’m not bailing you out. Come on.” Liam took a small step back and then another before he felt it was relatively safe to turn toward the door. By that time, Kieran had ducked out and was laughing as though he was having the time of his life, and Suri, who lingered by the door, disappeared outside as soon as Liam decided he wasn’t going to keep dallying with a stranger.

 

[BlueAmbient]

Brennan's full attention is on his newly found black haired mate. The rest of the room almost seems to fade away. The man's words reach him, and Brennan almost laughs. The bang of the bat on the bar doesn't make him jump like it does the one before him. Those golden eyes remain on the man as he retreats, his body leaning as if to follow. He should chase him, his instincts want him to, his inner wolf howling for him to catch the man.

Sam grins as the bartender, Maxine, invites them back next week. One hand lifts to rub the back of his head with a chuckle. "We'll keep that in mind. Glad we could help settle a problem. But we should really be leaving now." Sam jogs over to Brennan, grabbing his arm and shaking him roughly as Eli grabs Brennan's jacket.. "Brennan, we gotta go. Come on."

Sam's touch snaps Brennan out of his daze and he spins around. The other three had run out the front door, so with a nod, Brennan leads the way out the back. They hadn't brought a vehicle, so heading down the backstreets to get out of town is easy. Brennan's thoughts are a mess; not only had he found his mate, but he's human. That's just asking for trouble. They pull up short as they reach the trees at the edge of town.

"That crazy magenta hair chick was kind of cute." Eli breaks the silence of their escape first, and is rewarded with a playful punch to the shoulder from Sam. The blond is still grinning, but shaking his head. "Eli, you know the rules, no dating outside the pack. Wait for the next Solstice Celebration. Maybe you'll meet your mate whenever the packs join up to celebrate." Eli rolls his eyes, giving Sam a light shove. "Says the beta with his mate in hand. Chelsea's too good for you." Eli references Sam's mate of two years, brought from another pack after they met at a Solstice Celebration, occurring only at the four solstices, when various packs meet up for temporary peace time celebrations.

Brennan is barely paying their playfulness any attention. Sam notices first. "Hello, earth to Brennan. What's got you so quiet?" Brennan blinks, then scowls. But of course he'd never keep secrets from these two, he's just not happy admitting his mate is human. "That little black haired one is my mate." There's silence, followed by joint groans from both other men. "Damn, man, that really sucks. Pairings between wolves and humans are rare, and you're lucky enough to get one."

Brennan shakes his head, pushing past his friends and into the trees. His hands are already pulling off his shirt in preparation for shifting forms. "It doesn't matter. He's human, I'm a wolf. It's too dangerous to the pack. I'm not going to pursue him. I just have to be careful and hope he didn't notice my eyes change colour." Brennan takes his jacket from Eli, kicking off his shoes. "Come on, let's shift and get back to the Pack house." Sam and Eli nod and follow Brennan's lead in tense silence. The trees hide them from prying eyes as they undress, and in a quiet echo of grinding bones, all three shift to their wolves, bundle their clothes, and take off through the trees. Although unlikely, had anyone followed them, they'd see the unusual site of three wolves, five feet at the shoulder, packing bundled clothing into the woods.

 

[crypticpieces]

Gripping the handkerchief tightly, Liam followed Kieran and Suri over to Main and down Oakmont. Eventually, he stopped glancing behind him and hurried to catch up with the pair who were arguing about Maxine. “There’s a monster in town,” he announced as the house the Brotherhood used came into view.

The house itself was an old Victorian at the end of a street that was littered with similarly aged homes. It was the primary residence of the Master Hunter and the gathering location for the faction. Kieran paused at the wrought iron gate that would let them into the yard, turning on Liam as though he’d said something that didn’t quite make sense. “You said what?”

Suri, on the other hand, had disappeared. The spritely little woman had taken off back toward the bar the moment she’d heard and Liam. It was always a surprise to find her gone and Liam glanced back along the street to see if he’d see her, but she usually took shortcuts. “Something supernatural.”

Some time later, a meeting had been called in the dining room. The inside of the home maintained the Victorian style, as though there were something particularly distinguished and noble about the convergence of the past era and the profession, although very few hunters fit in with the imagined Van Helsing aesthetics. Nowadays, hunters were more Eric Kripke than Bram Stoker. It made the small gathering look horrendously out of place in a room that was meant for meals to be served by a modest host of servants.

Kieran had taken a post near the front window, leaning into the wall and waiting. Liam was slouched down in a high-backed chair at the dinner table, book in his lap, reading. The handkerchief he’d refused to give back, not because he’d bled on it, but because he didn’t know what he was dealing with, sat next to him. The Master Hunter, Malik, stood at the head of the table. He was an imposing, albeit scarred, figure who had survived longer than most. They were all, technically, waiting. “She’s coming,” Kieran announced a few seconds before Suri was in through the front door, followed by several others.

“Wolves, for sure,” she said as she came to a halt just inside the dining room, the others that had come in behind her moving around her to fill the space. Suri was the best Tracker they’d had in years, and she was viciously protective and proud of her work.

Liam looked up from the text and leaned back. Even if they had a werewolf infestation, that didn’t account for the golden glow, which was reserved for certain instances that didn’t really include a bar fight or running into Liam who was, by all accounts, harmless looking. Still, as unusual as it was, it wasn’t necessarily relevant unless he could find some information that said otherwise.

Two nights later, the hunters had devised a loose plan that took them into the woods. Previously, Suri had taken another Tracker and located a path from the wolves that looked to be a frequented area. A small team had created diversions and blockages to ensure the creatures were funneled into the appropriate copse of trees.

In the dark, Liam was vaguely aware of Suri who had scurried up a tree. Her back pressed against the trunk as she waited, just a shadow even with her colored hair. She had a bow slung over her lap with an arrow pulled from the quiver. The arrow head was silver, mixed with wolfsbane. It made the silver less lethal, but the wolfsbane was worth it if it would sap a creature’s power.

Kieran was on the ground with his partner Ravi, both uncharacteristically quiet while they waited and listened. Ravi turned a moonstone over and over between his fingers, something Liam had once told him was nothing but superstition, but he’d said he hadn’t been harmed by a werewolf yet, so he might as well continue using it to ward against them. Ravi also pointed out that the weapon Liam used had a moonstone grip, so…

Somewhere in the dark, a few other hunters were spread out. Malik was likely with the most inexperienced of them, but they were still enough that even if Liam looked across the indistinctly lighted path, he couldn’t identify where they were. He took a breath, aware of the anxiety and what it was doing to his pulse. Liam tightened his grip on the gun that had been crafted specifically to deal with werewolves. The silver it was loaded with made the thing heavy, a constant reminder even when it was holstered, that it was there.

To be certain that the wolves would come, the other Tracker had been sent out to keep track and lure them if necessary. When the sound of the human darting through shrubs and underbrush accompanied the sudden appearance of the person, that signaled the approach and all of the stillness or idle fidgeting stilled into alertness. Suri readied her bow, Kieran accepted that he’d use blades like he always did, Ravi kissed the moonstone before shoving it into his pocket and pulled a gun, and Malik would draw the sword he was partial to. The moment they saw a wolf, the area would burst into chaos.

To a lot of the people Liam worked with, killing monsters was a game. The one who killed the most was the winner. It was better to think of that than the one who lived was the winner.

 

[BlueAmbient]

It doesn't take long for the three wolves to arrive back at the Pack House. The three level building has some windows lit, some dark, and the porch lights are lit, as are the front yard lamp posts. As they exit the trees, coming into the light, the three friends shift to human shape and pull on pants, carrying their remainder clothing. Wolves in a pack generally have little modesty thanks to their close Pack bond, so seeing each other's nakedness isn't a problem to anyone. The front door opens and a woman with brunette hair and brown eyes comes running out, leaping into Sam's arms. The two share a kiss, and Sam is happy to carry the woman back up to the house. Brennan and Eli follow behind them.

The Pack House is an eclectic mix of styles, with nothing really having a cohesive theme. The giant living room is dotted with various mismatched seating, from loveseats to sofas, armchairs to beanbags. Portraits and photographs of the Pack members decorate the walls at seemingly random intervals. Bedrooms are on the second and third floors; those without children on the second, those with on the third. The idea is to keep bedrooms relatively the same, so that rooms can be moved easily as needed, and only to move personal items. Communal bathrooms are located on the first floor. There is an open basement, used for Pack meetings, game room, Pack events that need to be inside. The only room with a set look is the kitchen and dining room, which are open to each other. The kitchen is super modern, set up like an industrial multi stove and oven design, three fridge/freezer combos, and two dishwashers. Is is to accommodate the number of Pack members. There's also three dining tables, each of which can seat ten people.

"I hope my mate is as devoted as Chelsea is to Sam." Eli smiles as Sam carries Chelsea up to the second floor. Eli had been attending Solstice Celebrations almost religiously in the hope of finding his mate, with no luck so far. Brennan pats Eli on the back. "At least yours is unlikely to be human. It's late, let's get to bed. You're on perimeter patrol tomorrow." Eli nods, and the two of them climb the stairs and split different directions down the halls.


The next day passed normal. Eli ran the perimeter of the property with a couple of others, putting up no trespassing signs at varying intervals. Sam spent the day teaching defensive tactics to the teens of the Pack, helped by Chelsea for demonstrations. Brennan got the lucky job of tallying the last month's expenses. The pack's income currently comes primarily from the shares Brennan's father had owned in a minor tech company, shares which had passed to Brennan when his father had died. Not much, but enough to keep the Pack comfortable, even with the building of this new Pack House.

The second day brought first exasperation, then stress. Sam and Brennan, on perimeter patrol with a pair of youngsters just out of their teens, had found bootprints that didnt quite look like hiking boots. Trespassers, yes. But normal hikers? Brennan's not quite sure. Another patrol later in the day turned up brush broken or pushed aside in ways a wild animal wouldn't normally. As evening fell, Brennan called a Pack meeting in the basement. Those aged eighteen and under weren't allowed to attend such meetings, and thus were left in the living room on the ground floor.

"Tracks were found in the woods toward the back of the property. We can't be certain they're just hikers that don't realize this is private property. I have reason to believe they're still hanging around, so I need a team to go investigate with me. Sam will of course be coming, but I need six more. Eli, you'll stay here with the rest, just in case." Brennan doesn't need to say in case of what, this isn't the Pack's first time dealing with unknown threats. Six hands go up in the air and Brennan calls an end to the meeting. Those staying behind move to turn on outdoor lights and set up around the house in watch spots; the house was designed to be highly defensible, and intentionally have open ground around it, to see a threat coming.

Brennan, Sam, and the other six, four men and two women, all head out the back door after stripping down. Shifting forms, Brennan leads them away from the Pack House and into the woods. It doesn't take long for them to pick up the scent of a man, and suspicions rise when they spot the man running off through the underbrush. The telepathy that many human stories tell isn't real, so signals and commands are shared through body language, eye contact, and vocalisation. Brennan increases their pace to chase the man. Most normal humans don't instantly run; usually they freeze and try not to be noticed.

When Brennan breaks through the trees, the scent of human and silver, wolfsbane and gun powder fills his nose. Hunters! The others know it too and all eight dive for cover behind trees. This would be a hard fight, but against hunters, they'd all go down fighting.

 

[crypticpieces]

The hunters, at least those Combatants, like Ravi, Kieran, and Malik, don’t wait. The moment they see a flicker of movement that doesn’t belong to their Tracker, they head toward the trees currently hiding the wolves. Tempting as it is to run in, even Kieran moved in an arc to fence them in, each one opting to be in close proximity to the danger to attack by having intentionally chosen blades over guns.

From her position above Liam, Suri squinted into the dark. Her quiet huff of exasperating at the hiding is the only sound she made as she shoved her arrow back into the quiver at her back and shouldered her bow. Instead, she reached for the slingshot at her hip, which seemed a silly weapon to bring, but it wasn’t meant to be lethal. The little pouch that she slotted into the slingshot was meant to drive wolves out.

For a moment, Liam had gotten distracted by staring up into the darkness of the branches, waiting to hear Suri pull the slingshot back. The world wasn’t that quiet. The branches creaked and leaves rustled from the breeze overhead that didn’t seem to easily make it down to the ground. Even though he was staring up, he still released the safety on the gun, although it stayed at his side.

When Suri did let go. The little pouch sailed into the knot of trees some of the hunters were circling. On impact, the pouch burst, puffing up powdered wolfsbane, compliments of Liam who had been forced into watching enough action movies with Kieran that little, not-so-harmless bombs seemed like a viable idea. That earthy vinegar smell would alert the Combatants to not get too close; they didn’t want to inhale something that was poisonous to them too. The plant was, after all, toxic, and could be lethal to humans.

A sharp whistle came from the other side of the trees, and someone fired a shot some ten feet away, likely someone new. Kieran and Ravi had both gone after a single wolf, careful not to involve themselves in the slowly settling powder. Liam pulled the gun up and moved closer to what was temporarily an off-limits perimeter. The wolfsbane would settle or drift off, but it would take a little bit of time. That wouldn’t stop Malik, who had been through enough that he had pulled a handkerchief up over his nose. The powder would burn his eyes and he’d feel like hell later, but it was better than letting some monsters move into town and cause problems. He’d go after the first wolf he saw, whether they were fleeing or not.

The thump from behind Liam would be Suri hitting the ground and darting forward to fire an arrow. She wouldn’t allow the Combatants to have all the fun. In that vein, Liam was obliged to pick up his pace, moving between trees, and trying to keep to the shadowy areas, pausing only once to fire at a movement some feet ahead of him.

At the edge of his senses, he could smell the wolfsbane and it threatened to burn his lungs if he wasn’t careful. The sounds around him had gotten louder because humans were incapable of silent hunting. An occasional whistle, varied in tone and pitch, would break through, which would have primarily been Malik. They hadn’t known how many wolves they were after, but they had gone in with the assumption it was a fair number, which was always the safest choice if they were going to rush a plan.

Someone back a few feet and to the left yelped and fell silent. Liam pressed his lips into a line, debating about risking the wolfsbane before throwing the safety back on the gun, shoving it down into the side holster under his coat, and hurrying off to see if some young idiot had gotten themselves into trouble the moment Malik had stopped babysitting and went to work.

The biggest problem now was assuming whoever made that noise was still in the same place. Safe in the shadow of another tree, Liam scanned the area. He sounded a low whistle and waited for the response. By now the wolfsbane had settled, and he could hear Suri’s voice behind him indistinctly yelling at someone or something. Another signal from Malik confirmed that the wolfsbane bomb that Suri had fired was out of play. If they were fighting anything, they’d close in fast. Liam couldn’t waste more time on a maybe and he ran back toward the sound of Suri’s voice.

 

[BlueAmbient]

The wolfsbane does eventually chase the wolves out, and chaos immediately ensues. The eight huge wolves scatter, splitting into their own battles. Despite their size, they seem to have incredible agility, more so than the average wolf pack. Combat is drilled into them from a young age by necessity. Eight out of ten attacks from the humans are misses, and those that hit don't seem fatal. The yelp from the young human isn't wolf-caused. All blows from the wolves are pulled, more to toss the humans, not injure. Teeth are bared, but avoided, and claws don't dig into anything but dirt.

Most might think it's scare tactics, but it's really only defensive. In their bid to live alongside humans, causing a serious injury or death would only drive the fear of danger. But it's also clear these humans aren't giving up. Still, if they can keep them here, and keep them from going back to the Pack House, all the better.

The huge but lean tan wolf lunges at the hulk of a man. Recognition lights his eyes, and his ears lay back as though he feels regret. Still, he carries through with the lunge, knocking the man off his feet and pinning him down, front paws on wrists and hind paws on legs. He shakes his head, making the vague attempt to show remorse, then lunges away to go knock a hunter off another wolf's back. The human is left unijured, but perhaps the wind knocked out of him.

A slightly smaller black wolf with pale eyes is facing off with the magenta haired woman. He's refusing to attack, and is simply jumping side to side, staying just out of reach. No doubt he's frustrating her, but at least he's keeping her occupied. Two rather massive brown wolves, bigger than the rest, are circling and hopping around the hunters' leader, playing a similar game; just out of reach of the swinging sword. The wolves have the advantage of speed, so this defensive 'play' of theirs is relatively easy to maintain. Amazingly, any gunshots seem to be of little effect. Or at least, of little effect that the wolves are showing. They don't seem to be slowing down.

The only red wolf in the group, third largest in size, is jumping from end to end of the forest battle field. He's assisting his comrades where needed, knocking away hunters, tripping the man up. The only smell of blood is those of the wolves, from what very few injuries they've accrued. No hunter has suffered an injury yet, by the grace of the wolves.

One lighter grey wolf, especially quick on its paws, jumps on the short black haired hunter's back and successfully pins him face down in the dirt. It doesn't last, as that wolf is knocked aside by another. The red wolf now stand still over the man, teeth bared not at the man, but at the grey wolf. There's a clear look of confusion before that one jumps away. The red wolf looks down, even whining sadly at the man. He succumbs to his instincts and pushes his large cold nose against the back of the man's neck, breathing in his scent.

By this point, the tan wolf has thrown the huge hunter against a tree and can see what his Alpha is doing. He makes a snap decision, maybe a bad one, and shifts to human form right in front of everyone. Two light brown wolves flank him, protecting his back and sides. Sam has a clear gunshot wound to his left shoulder, blood painting his chest. "Stop! We have one of yours at our mercy. And you fail to fatally wound us. Stop and listen, or we take him!" Sam points to where the red wolf's jaws are close to the black haired man's neck, though they're closed. The red wolf takes the hint and grabs the back of the man's shirt in his teeth.

Sam keeps talking, as the other four wolves move into defensive positions around him and the red wolf, batting away approaching attackers. "We don't want trouble, we don't want to fight. We just want to live in peace. Not all wolves are dangerous. Give us a chance to prove it! If you care at all for this man, you will leave. We will return him to you, unharmed, in a week's time. But visit our legally purchased private property again, and we will kill him." Sam is a very good liar, and there's no way of knowing the last sentence is a fib.

With the combat at a seeming standstill, the red wolf starts dragging the black haired man beneath him, turning to walk away from the conflict. The three wolves around him walk backward to watch his back. Sam stays human, walking backward as well. "Don't follow us. Get off our property. Know that we will be setting up cameras, and reporting to human police I find you trespass again. Even you are not above human laws."

 

[crypticpieces]

Some of the hunters, Malik and Suri included, could tell that the wolves were being intentionally cautious. It did nothing to endear them to the humans, who indeed were frustrated by the antics. It also did nothing to sway them toward kindness.

Liam hadn’t planned on having a wolf jump on him. He couldn’t imagine that would have ever been anyone’s plan. Still, if he had expected it, the landing might not have knocked the air out of his lungs and left him struggling to remember how to inhale. It was in those short few seconds that he realized what happened, but before he could feel any sense of panic or regain enough sense to try to get the thing off, the weight that had been holding him there was gone.

The relief and confusion were short lived. Liam managed to partially turn enough to get a look at what exactly was going on. While the show of teeth wasn’t directed at him, Liam still found himself under a wolf, just a different one for reasons his mind wasn’t putting together in that moment. Even if he could identify wolf cues, he still couldn’t understand why he’d prompt specific behavior, but that was something to consider when he wasn’t surrounded by werewolves and at a disadvantage.

Too distracted to recognize it, the belated panic that hadn’t shown up before decided to work its way under his skin now. As far as Liam was concerned, it was nothing but useless adrenaline and a rabbit’s pulse. He ducked his head and stilled in time to have a cold nose against his neck. He let out a short, tentative breath, then another. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t what happened.

On some surface level, Liam smelled like the woods and vanilla, but under that he couldn’t possibly fathom what was so interesting to make wolves this invested. Well, if he thought about it, one wolf. This wasn’t the first pack of wolves he’d encountered, and he thought he would remember if others wanted to pause in the middle of a fight, with silver weapons around, to smell him.

A voice that didn’t belong to the hunters made Liam’s eyes shift toward the sound. He couldn’t see, he was still limited to the immediate area, which consisted of a lot of patchy grass and shrubs, but he flinched at the tension of the fabric uncomfortably close to his neck.

The Brotherhood was slow to stop their attack only because it took them all some time to process that someone was speaking. When the words reached Malik, one of those whistles went out, that seemed to put a pause to the attack. Kieran reluctantly didn’t shove himself off of a tree to continue what he was doing. Suri, who may have stopped fighting, didn’t stop moving. She bounced several steps until she could see the red wolf. In the dark it was difficult to see, but she whistles, expecting a response that Liam can’t answer.

The idea that he might be kept for a week was horrifying enough. That if the rest of the hunters didn’t listen, he’d be killed was worse. It was a debate whether they valued one life over the group. Liam scrambled for something to grab on the ground, as though clutching onto something might keep him from being dragged out of reach of the others, but there wasn’t anything solid for him to hold. “Suri—” Liam had caught sight of her unusual hair, which prompted him to blurt out her name as the only way he could identify himself.

Suri took a step forward the moment the wolves began to leave, but that was as far as she went. The vicious pinched look on her face was mostly obscured by the darkness. A few short seconds later, Malik had whistled for the hunters one last time. Without a pause, Suri turned and was joining the others.

“Well?” Kieran asked, walking between Malik and Ravi.

The small woman wrinkled her nose as she felt through the arrows left in her quiver. “Liam.”

Kieran took a breath that should have been a curse, but he didn’t trust the woods. Malik busied himself with sheathing the sword. “We’ll check the status of everyone who’s out of town. If they can make a meeting, we’ll bring them home.”

Ravi had fetched his moonstone out of his pocket and was worrying it between his fingers again, pressing hard against it. “You think they’ll give him back?” he asked no one in particular.

Kieran snorted. “No. You know what they’re like. He either gets himself out or—”

“Get fucked,” Suri snapped. “He’ll be fine. If he’s not, we’ll raze their place to the ground.” She picked up her speed, leaving the men to move at a somewhat subdued pace.

Liam had gone from scared to indignant in relatively short order. It only took a little while of being dragged through the forest. “Let go. I’m capable of walking, mutt. And you know,” he said, directing some of his irritation at the only one who had bothered to shift back into something resembling human, “threatening them with the police is great, if you weren’t kidnapping someone and threatening to kill them.”

 

[BlueAmbient]

Brennan huffs against the back of his mate’s neck, lifting his head to pulling the man to his feet. He releases his shirt, but is just as quick to grab onto the hem of it, making it clear he doesn’t trust him not to run. Sam looks at the black haired young man his Alpha is dragging with a pinched expression of exasperation. It’s clear he’s not happy about this situation, but with Brennan getting distracted mid battle, he had to do something. “It’s an empty threat. That one,” The blond nods at the red wolf. “Would never allow it, even if we wanted to. We don’t kill humans. Our pack isn’t like other packs, you know. We don’t want bigger territory, bigger numbers. We just want to live in peace. We didn’t know a hunter group lived here. Figured a small town would be safer than a big city. And yes, this is small town compared to other places we’ve lived near.”

The red wolf gives another soft huff, breath warm against the black haired man’s hip. Sam falls silent as they walk, biting the inside of his lip. There’s no telepathy between wolves, but body language and vocals say a lot to those who understand. Brennan wants to explain things to his mate himself. The walk is long, the wolves around them having spread out through the trees in a defensive guard formation. Sam stays in human form, not caring at all that he’s buck naked. Wolves really don’t have any modesty

Arriving back at the Pack House, the wolves that had gone with them all shift to human form and head inside. Sam, after a glance at the red wolf, does the same. He’s off the alert the pack that a human will be staying with them for the next week, and why. This would cause turmoil amidst the wolves, and Sam would have his work cut out for him keeping panic at bay. When they’d moved here, they didn’t know there was a hunter group, and had hoped this would be the last time they’d have to flee their home.

Brennan waits until eveyone is inside before releasing the young man’s shirt. With a side eye, he waits to see if the man would bolt. When he doesn’t, he shifts to human, straightening to his 6’6 height. The sound of grinding bones is much louder up close. Brennan shakes his arms, shoulders, and head like a dog shaking out stiffness, then pushes his fingers through his red hair. “Hey, nice to see you again. Wish it could be on better terms. Before you say anything, know you’re safe here. I’m just trying to buy time and protect my family.” He doesn’t even try to hide his nakedness; every muscle is well-defined, but not bulky. Several scars litter his skin in various locations, most notably four large claw shaped scars on his left hip, and what can only be full jaw bite scars on his right bicep. And he’s certainly more than average at the nether regions.

Brennan holds out his right hand, offering a handshake, though he’d much rather just pull the much shorter man in close. It’s taking a lot of restraint to ignore his instincts. “My name is Brennan Taylor. I’m the Alpha of the Pine Mountain Pack - although, that name isn’t really accurate anymore. The blond that made the decision to bring you with us is my Beta, Sam Stone. Give us a chance, let me show you what my pack is like. We just want to live in peace.”

 

[crypticpieces]

Even if Liam had the urge to run, which he did, it wasn’t practical. He wasn’t going to outrun a wolf, and he had been trained to suppress the urge to even try. Fear made people do stupid things, including making mistakes that would improve their chances of being killed. That left him with no choice but to go with the wolves, even if Liam wasn’t inclined to believe that they didn’t kill humans and weren’t like other packs. If they were the talking kind, that was what everyone said when they were hunted.

The red wolf was a persistent distraction. It unnerved Liam to have teeth near him and he couldn’t help the repeated glances toward his furry captor who was enough to distract from the reality of a man walking naked through the woods like he’d been dropped into a survival show and hadn’t progressed to making his own clothes yet.

A week. Those two little words echoed around obnoxiously in his head. He wasn’t staying a week. ‘Don’t run,’ Malik would have said, but he wasn’t faced with seven days of the enemy and the word of strangers that what had been promised in the woods was a hollow threat. Liam scanned the exterior of the house as it came into view for potential weak points, signs of the number of residents, and any security that might have been in place. Only when the tension on his shirt slackened did he look at the creature.

Liam had seen a wolf shift before, but he hadn’t been close enough to hear it, and his expression twitched. There was nothing comfortable sounding about it, but that reemphasized the belief that the supernatural wasn’t supposed to be around. Then recognition dawned on him. Of course it was the man from the bar. Of course. Liam wasn’t likely going to forget him, he was unquestionably remarkable in appearance and hard to miss even when he was fully clothed.

It was difficult not to notice that the oversized dog that had held onto him the entire way here, taking up the majority of his attention, was at least partially human. Liam made it to the scar at the man’s hip before the hunter’s eyebrows rose at the claim that it was nice to see him again.

Liam hadn’t given up his gun, he’d stored it, but the light coat likely hid it and muted whatever smell the silver gave off. The offered hand was rewarded with a slight step back as Liam pulled the gun from the side holster under his coat where it had stayed; it hadn’t even bruised him when one of the wolves jumped him. To be fair to his training and his leader, he wasn’t running.

A gunshot would draw attention. He wouldn’t get away. He shook his head faintly, a vague sort of smile borne out of anxiety and an underlying amusement for what he considered a bleak situation. “No. That’s what you all want: a chance to fuck something up. None of you ever want to ‘just live in peace,’ and even if you do, you draw others like you like magnets. Someone hears something from someone and suddenly your past shows up with a vendetta to wreck this place that’s been untouched by…” He made a slight gesture toward Brennan with the weapon.

“I won’t miss,” he assured. “And then I’d find out if all of the rest of them wanted peace or not, right?” If he shot and killed Brennan and the rest of the wolves went after Liam then that would provoke the hunters regardless of who was ultimately responsible. There were alternatives, but they were messier, and he didn’t want to think them through to the possible conclusions.

It was then that a rather gaunt looking woman with wild chocolate hair rounded the corner of the house, coming unexpectedly onto a scene she wouldn’t have ever imagined seeing. Evelyn paused, her attention went to her leader for some indication of what she was meant to be doing while a human aimed a gun at him. She didn’t get to linger on the thought long.

The sound of her drew Liam’s attention, but he didn’t look away from Brennan or shift the gun. However, he was aware something was stopping him, some nagging in the back of his head that he couldn’t quite understand. He should have fired already. He turned the gun on the woman who snarled, human though she seemed, her sharp features seeming all the more severe at the insult.

“Try me,” she snapped, dark eyes narrowing onto the hunter. Evelyn was not a violent creature, but she had long ago stopped letting others be violent toward her. Beneath the modest clothes she wore were scars of all the fatal blows that should have taken her, one more was nothing she would flinch at.

 

[BlueAmbient]

Brennan’s expression is one of sadness as the boy, his fated mate, a hunter, pulls his gun and rambles on about the dangers of wolves. Yes, many wolf packs are greedy, always wanting more. But Brennan’s pack isn’t the only one to want to live in peace. They are the only one within a thousand miles, though. Brennan doesn’t move toward the shorter man, but he isn’t watching the gun either. His eyes are focused on the hunter’s face. Fear and training are driving these actions, so hopefully kindness and learning can show the man differently.

When Evelyn comes around the side of the house, Brennan raises a staying hand toward her. “It’s okay, Evelyn, everything is fine.” Brennan’s heart leaps into his throat when his mate turns the gun on his packmate. The man’s attention is on Evelyn now, so Brennan takes his chance to jump between them, close to the hunter. The gun is just inches from his chest, but there’s no fear in his eyes.

”Don’t hurt her. She’s been through enough. Shoot me, or give me a chance. Either way, you’re not leaving here.” Brennan lifts his right hand, slowly wrapping his fingers around the barrel of the gun. He doesn’t pull it away from the hunter, just holds it, making sure the shorter male can’t aim it anywhere else. Those dark hazel eyes watch the hunter’s face, waiting for the pain of a silver bullet, or the release of the gun.

 

[crypticpieces]

Surprise registered in Liam's face when Brennan jumped willingly in front of something that could kill him. The look was quickly done away with for something more somber, but it had effectively turned Liam’s attention back. To get to the woman, Liam would have to step around Brennan, and that seemed unlikely. The hunter’s shoulders tensed when the other man took hold of the gun, expecting to have to keep a tight hold on it, but it was a small comfort to be wrong.

“It doesn’t look fine,” Evelyn remarked, but that wasn’t an argument so much as an observation. “I could get Sam,” she ventured, now safely blocked from harm’s way.

“Don’t,” Liam was quick to answer. Evelyn growled, human in appearance but always a little too close to wild for most people. Liam had killed creatures before, this wasn’t new, but the hesitation was, which had nothing to do with the woman. “Move.” He doubted Brennan was going to listen to him, but Liam was trying to come to terms with the fact that he might not have the common sense he needed to pull the trigger on this particular monster.

The tension that was in his shoulders migrated to his chest, making his breathing a little tighter. He’d never put the safety back on and there was a bullet in the chamber. Annoyance flickered across his face, and he abruptly released the only type of leverage or protection he currently had. “This isn’t me giving you a chance. This is…” Liam shook his head because he didn’t know what it was. They couldn’t stay that way all week, someone might notice. “...a stroke or something,” he concluded.

As Liam rolled his eyes, he turned his back, took two steps, and exhaled. If Brennan wanted, he could have killed Liam by now, so turning away meant very little to the hunter, although it gave him a moment of peace. He still wasn’t convinced he was staying, but arguing the point wouldn’t get him anywhere. Turning back, he noticed Evelyn had moved enough so she could see him, but she’d gotten no closer. Bright blue eyes ticked back onto Brennan. “I’m not changing my mind. Save your breath. I know what you are.” He glanced at Evelyn. “All of you. And so do the others.”

 

[BlueAmbient]

Brennan's sad expression doesn't leave his face as he waits for Liam to do something, anything. A short shake of his head is given in response to Evelyn. No need to escalate the situation by bringing in his Beta; Sam would no doubt lecture him later about the distraction on the battlefield. He doesn't move until the black haired man suddenly releases the gun. Brennan is quick to flip the safety on and throw it through the air to Evelyn. "Evelyn, please store that safely. We're fine here now, thank you."

Brennan steps closer to his mate when the shorter man turns around again. "Come on, let's get you settled in. You're here for the week, so you should at least try to see what we're like. Lets go inside, i need to get some clothes." Brennan resists the urge to touch the man as he hovers one hand in the air behind his back. It's like a guiding presence, without making contact. He starts them headed toward the front door. "Can I at least get your name? It feels both rude and wrong to just call you human." Brennan would rather call him 'mate', but this seems like a bad time to mention that.

 

[crypticpieces]

The woman caught the gun easily, only passingly surprised by the weight of it. Guns could be surprisingly heavy things for their size. She turned it over, peering briefly at the moonstone grip and the etching along the barrel before nodding in acknowledgment. A human without a weapon was a significantly reduced threat. With that in mind, she glanced at the house, determining it wasn’t the place to hide a weapon where the stranger might find it, and disappeared back into the dark from whence she came.

Suspicion lingered in Liam’s eyes. The friendliness was unsettling and he was convinced it was nothing but an angle to get him to relax and not cause a fuss during his stay. His gaze drifted, aware that Brennan wasn’t quite touching him, which was for the best, but the proximity alone was bothersome. He liked distance between himself and creatures that were more likely to kill him. Still, he moved toward the house because the alternative, again, was being stuck outside in a stalemate until one of them got desperate enough to try something different. “I don’t need to see what you’re like,” he remarked in a patient, even tone.

“It feels rude and wrong, why? That’s what I am. Would you be offended if I just called you werewolf the whole time?” A corner of his mouth twitched up. “Or would you rather pretend to be human? Brennan.” The name came as an afterthought, not as a part of the question, but a sort of conclusion to the idea of the wolf playing human. Liam hesitated for a moment at the door because a person didn’t just skip merrily into a wolf’s den and expect nothing to go wrong. On the other hand, he was next to someone who seemed intent on staying as close to him as was possible without getting a volatile reaction out of the hunter, and Brennan had been, to be fair, on the verge of too close the whole time. “Liam. My name’s Liam.” He refused offering his last name because it didn’t matter. They weren’t going to be friends, but he also hadn't intended to provide a name, certainly not a real one. Every interaction he'd had with Brennan continued to be frustratingly surprising.

 

[BlueAmbient]

Brennan presses his lips into a thin line when asked if he would be offended at being called werewolf. He allows his expression to speak for itself. Yes, that’s what they are, but they have names, and prefer those just as any other intelligent species prefer theirs. Brenna is patient as the man hesitates at the door; he doesn’t blame him for the apprehension of entering the Pack House. When his name is finally offered, Brennan feels a thrill in his chest.

”Liam.” The name rolls off Brennan’s tongue like a blessing, practically purred. “Well, Liam, welcome to our home. Watch your step, the youngsters certainly don’t watch theirs.” Brennan guides Liam inside. Almost as if on cue, there’s a shrill scream, followed by high pitched laughter, as a group of four young children, ranging in age from three to five years, goes rushing past from the kitchen to the front room, engaged in a game of tag. Two adults jog after them, murmuring greetings and apologies to Brennan. Another adult is coming down the stairs, lugging a hamper of laundry. He pauses to wave, then turns the corner into the back of the house. None seem to even notice that Brennan is naked.

Brennan guides Liam upstairs, to the second floor. He turns them left down the hall, and moves to the fourth door on the left. There’s no particular reason that this is Brennan’s bedroom, it just is. Inside, there’s a queen bed against the far wall, set between a pair of tall windows looking out at the front yard and done in soft sable colored sheets. A nightstand is set on each side of the bed. There’s no closet, but a large waist height dresser occupies the left wall. A desk setup sits to the right, complete with computer, lamp, and small filing cabinet beside it. On the other side of the filing cabinet is a small bookshelf, laden with books. On top of it is what can only be described as a memorial, with a framed photo of a man that looks extremely similar to Brennan, only older. Brennan leaves Liam to look around as he moves to the dresser.

 

[crypticpieces]

The name, his name, out of Brennan’s mouth sounded like it meant something, but Liam didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on it. The chaos of children hurling themselves through the house took precedence. Liam counted them in the same way he counted the adults that followed and the one that came from the stairs. Later, that information would be useful: the Brotherhood had to make sure that every wolf was disposed of. No one got to live.

Liam continued his mildly interested scanning of the house all the way upstairs. While he claimed to have no interest in the wolves and how they existed, Liam was an Occultist, which suggested he was more than a little curious about the supernatural. Of course, his interest only extended to what would help the Brotherhood do their jobs, but it was interest nonetheless.

Once in the bedroom, Liam looked to Brennan before moving to get a closer look at the points of interest in the space. “How many of you are there here?” he asked quietly while assessing what he could see from this particular window. The front yard, it would seem, and currently, what looked like the thin figure of Evelyn returning from wherever she’d stashed his gun, which he’d have to convince her to give back. That felt unlikely.

Liam left the window in favor of the bookshelf. Blue eyes narrowed at the photo there before he cast a sideways glance at Brennan, intending to draw some conclusions about their relationship but getting sidetracked by the man himself. Werewolves and several other species were wholly indifferent to nakedness, but most humans had a puritan’s horrified fascination with it and now that the distractions and potential threats had been minimized, Liam’s attention wasn’t entirely devoted to reconnaissance.

Recognizing exactly what he was doing, he jerked his focus back to the bookcase and what was on the shelves. “Are you planning on dragging me around with you for seven days?” The question came suddenly. Liam didn’t know what he expected the answer to be, but the answer probably wasn’t to let him wander around a place he didn’t want to be with ‘people’ he thought shouldn’t be alive.

 

[BlueAmbient]

With his back to Liam, Brennan hunts through the drawers for a pair of grey sweatpants and a thin white shirt that was probably a tee at one point, but now looks like the short sleeves were cut off. He can feel Liam's gaze on his backside, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. As on his front, his back is decorated with scars. One travels the length of his spine, from the nape of his neck to the top of his firm ass, perpendicular and a half inch to the right.

Brennan turns around when asked what he intends to do with Liam, facing the shorter man as he dresses. Notably, he does not put any sort of underwear on. "To answer your first question, I'm not going to tell you how big my pack is. That's a safety risk. And for the second, no, I won't be dragging you around everywhere. I can't do my duties as Alpha, and babysit a hunter at the same time." Brennan pauses as he pulls the shirt over his head, then pushes his fingers through his red hair. "When I'm busy, you'll be under the guard of four pack members. Yes, four, and no, you won't be getting any privacy. I haven't assigned anyone yet, as you've just arrived, but you'll get to meet them tomorrow. As for freedoms, well. You won't be allowed outside without me, and any rooms you're not allowed in will be locked. And don't even try that lockpick crap, I know what hunters are like." And I have the luck of being mated to one.. Brennan thinks to himself.

 

[crypticpieces]

The ‘I know what hunters are like’ was the only thing that made Liam turn away from the bookshelf. “You could have saved us both a lot of trouble by not bringing me here in the first place. It sounds like an awful lot of extra work that you could have avoided.” Liam came within arm’s reach of Brenna, not because he thought he would be intimidating, but because he was compelled to move out of irritation for the whole situation. He found the sudden list of restrictions constricting, even though he’d been the one to ask.

“It’s a little late to worry about safety isn’t it? A safety risk was letting me in.” As if to emphasize that point, Liam began listing everything he probably shouldn’t know if safety was something to be worried about: “I know you have kids, I know where your room is, I know who to go after once you’re gone, and I know you’d let someone kill you if it meant saving any one of your pack, and I haven’t even been here an hour.” Liam shrugged, tense undeath that nonchalance, and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “So assign four pack members to babysit me and we’ll see what I can get out of them in a week if you won’t tell me.” More than anything, Brennan had been careful and not leaving Liam alone was the best option, it just wasn't one Liam liked. Liam's patience extended only as far as he could imagine an escape plan.

 

[BlueAmbient]

Brennan’s patience thins the more Liam lists off, and in turn, his anger grows. It snaps when Liam acts so cool about getting information from his packmates. In a flurry of movement, Brennan shoves his mate backward, down onto the bed, where he pins his wrists beside his head. His knee lands between Liam’s thighs. Teeth are bared in Liam’s face, eyes glowing golden. “I made a mistake and Sam did what he thought was best as my Beta, and now I have to figure out what to do next! He needed to buy time and didn’t have a choice, because I got distracted!“ Brennan’s frustration and anger gets the better of him. “Because you’re my mate!”

Those last four words hang in the air, and all the sudden anger seems to dissipate from Brennan’s frame. He drops his forehead onto Liam’s chest with a quiet sigh. He’s still for barely a minute before moving away, releasing Liam’s wrists. He hadn’t wanted to say it that way, but it’s out now. Brennan says nothing more as he leaves the room. The door closes behind him, and there’s quiet voices outside. Sam had heard the shouting and beelined for Brennan’s room, arriving just as the redhead had left. Then there’s silence for a moment, then footsteps, then silence again. Brennan had posted a guard outside the door, having needed to get out of the house and away from Liam’s scent.

 

[crypticpieces]

That Liam got a reaction was satisfying in an antagonistic kind of way, but he wasn’t prepared for the exact type of reaction he got. Prior, Brennan had gotten into his space, been cautiously too familiar, but the shove back and being held down was different. If the supernatural glow of the man’s eyes wasn’t enough to remind Liam that he wasn’t really safe, it was how easy it was for Brennan to keep him down.

The confession didn’t register right away. “What…” he started quietly without finishing. Liam wasn’t anyone’s mate. He wasn’t a werewolf, and sure, there was plenty of fiction out there where dreamy-eyed internet fanatics were imagining vampires and werewolves fell in love with humans, but the real literature didn’t support that kind of trash fiction. The real literature didn’t say a lot about werewolf mates, except acknowledging them as a weakness, but no one had bothered mentioning they could be human.

Liam didn’t try to move Brennan, even when he seemed to completely lose the anger he had, and then the weight of him was gone. The hunter propped himself up on his elbows, watched the door close. Liam wasn’t. The wolf was wrong; he had to be wrong. Rolling off of the bed, Liam went to the door, but the sounds outside suggested he wasn’t going to get far. This might have been as much privacy as he was getting, but now, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted it.

Resigned to being trapped in Brennan’s room, Liam shed the jacket, hanging it on the back of the desk chair. He pushed the sleeves of the button-down shirt up, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and peered out the window. He wasn’t anyone’s mate. If he was… Liam returned to sit on the bed and tipped backward, throwing an arm over his eyes. If he was, which he wasn’t, anyone’s mate, the Brotherhood would see him very differently.

 

[BlueAmbient]

It’s not long before the Pack House starts to settle for the night. The hunter ambush had happened in the dark, and by now, it’s nearly midnight. Much of the pack had stayed awake to await the return of the patrol, and many had heard of the prisoner hunter’s arrival. Wolves have incredible hearing, so those awake quickly found out the extra special news about their guest. Word spread fast in the pack. Brennan is pacing the grass outside, trying to calm his nerves. Sam and Eli are sitting on the porch steps, watching him.

”Brennan, what do we do? That guy upstairs, he might be your mate, but he’s still a hunter.” Eli kicks Sam for pointing out the obvious, and Sam shrugs. Brennan shakes his head, coming to a halt before his friends. He sighs heavily, pushing fingers through his hair. Although he hadn’t wanted to blurt it out like that, maybe it was better that Liam knew. “Nothing changes. We still have to show him that we’re not a danger to the town. We don’t have a choice. We’re running out of options on where to go.” Brennan’s voice is shaking, stress and frustration built up in his chest. “We can’t keep running forever, the pack will fall apart.”

 

[crypticpieces]

Liam stayed the way he’d been for a long while, until he started to feel some stiffness in his legs and was starting to lose little snippets of time, which meant the panic had run its course. He was still concerned, but he didn’t have Brennan to take it out on and he was stuck in a room that wasn’t his. The hunter pulled himself free of the empty shoulder holster, setting it on top of the jacket he’d discarded earlier. While he pulled the buttons of his vest free from their eyes, Liam returned to the window. The scenery hadn’t changed much, which seemed to suggest he hadn’t been stuck nearly as long as it had felt.

The vest was added to the pile of things, and Liam loosened the laces of his boots, leaving them on the floor near the edge of the bed, where he sat down again. He could have pretended he wasn’t exhausted and wanted to stay up the whole night because he didn’t trust being surrounded by monsters, but at least for the night, Liam was completely done. It should have been easy, or at least routine, to go in, kill the werewolves, and go home. Being jumped on, dragged back as some kind of hostage, and mated to one of his jailers was the pinnacle of a bad night.

Liam laid back down, turning onto his side. He didn’t bother with covers or claiming a pillow because that sort of comfort suggested he accepted something about his situation. He didn’t, and he wouldn’t. Maybe tomorrow he’d have a better solution for his problem or he’d go on denying the worst of it. Any of the tension Liam was carrying around from his continued dwelling faded quickly, and once his eyes were closed, it took only a few short minutes for him to fall asleep.

 

[BlueAmbient]

Sam and Eli continue watching Brennan pace for a while longer, before going back inside. They can offer suggestions on how to deal with the hunters, but only Brennan can figure out what to do about Liam. It's almost 2am when Brennan returns inside, going to his bedroom. The guard he'd posted outside is thanked and dismissed. Brennan is silent as he enters the room, careful not to wake the hunter.

Brennan spends a few minutes just watching Liam sleep. Then he pulls a blanket over the shorter man, before taking a seat on the floor. He pulls his knees halfway up, resting his arms on them, then drops his forehead onto his arms. Brennan listens to Liam's breathing, eventually drifting into a light sleep. Should the man move off the bed, Brennan would feel the mattress move, and wake.

 

[crypticpieces]

Liam had a vague sort of awareness that Brennan had come back, the edge of consciousness suggesting it more than any wakeful investigation. That slight awareness faded quickly enough into nothing for the rest of the night. If he planned on escaping, it wouldn’t be that night. However, by the first show of pale blue light coloring the sky beyond the windows, Liam was awake. He hadn’t moved, not even shifted while he slept, but he managed to look ruffled all the same.

An assessment of the situation showed that Brennan had come back, and elected to play guard dog on the floor. The blanket, which Liam knew he hadn’t put on himself, was pushed away as he sat up. His head tipped, considering how light a sleeper the wolf was and glanced at the door. There was a slim chance he’d make it out of the house without anyone noticing, even if he did get by Brennan. Still, Liam was painfully careful when he left the bed, not in any attempt to leave, but so he knew what he might get away with in the future. Besides, it was better than the alternative of immediately launching into the fight he wanted to have with the wolf.