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[i][center]Written and posted with permission from Leo_Todrius (who also provided the kickass thumbnail icon!)[/i][/center]

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

[i][center]---------------[/i][/center]

[center][b]Lykos - Wild Things[/b][/center]

[center][b]Chapter 18 - Wild things forever[/b][/center]

[b]Part 1 - Both the werewolves and those who aren't sing the praises of life equally[/b]

Talia's first child was born on March the first, three days after his mother's birthday, exactly one month before his uncle's, and three days before the following full moon; the weather was unusually chilly, but the sun shone bright and proud, and the sky was almost blinding in its absolute clearness.

Talia was having a home delivery, which was pretty much the norm for werewolves in order to avoid any kind of accidental transformation for either the mother or the baby due to the intense stress of childbirth. The only people who had been allowed inside the house were Moira, her grandkids and of course Craig, but only the old keeper had been granted permission to be in the room with Talia as she was giving birth, and only because she had also been the midwife for Cordelia. Otherwise, everyone suspected, Talia would have much preferred to deliver the baby by herself and probably sever the umbilical cord with her fangs.

Craig, Ian and Leah were waiting in the hallway right outside the master bedroom, and none of them seemed very much bent at having any conversation, Craig because he was a nervous wreck - pale, twitching, jittery, his glasses constantly sliding down the bridge of his nose due to the sweat - and the twin teenagers due to what could basically be described as second-hand embarrassment. Moira had insisted for them to come with her - "In case something happens, you may never know," she had told them, and even though they knew nothing was going to happen since she was always perfectly in control, they still felt indebted towards her due to the motocross bikes she had gifted them - but there was nothing for them to do except wait.

They didn't have to wait for long, however: less than forty-five minutes after Moira had closed the bedroom door behind her, she opened it again, carrying a small bundle of baby towels in her arms. "Oh, no, not now," she admonished both Craig and her grandkids, who were taking a step towards her, their eyes full of curiosity and anxiousness. "I need to give him a proper bath first. You," she added, her chin pointing at Craig for a moment. "Should go inside and stay with your wife until I'm back." And, after that, she disappeared inside the bathroom down the corridor.

Craig, however, didn't do as ordered. Instead, she turned towards the two young keeper apprentices and cleared his throat. "Um... can I... ask you something?" he said, his voice a bit querulous.

Ian and Leah looked at each other, puzzled. "I mean... sure?" the girl replied for the two of them.

The veterinarian cleared his throat, his eyes darting around as if they were trying to follow something that was moving at incredible speed. "Well... I mean, it's probably a very weird moment to ask you something like this, but... have you ever, you know... wanted to become like them?"

Ian's brow furrowed. "You mean a werewolf?"

Craig nodded. "Yeah, it's... something I often ask myself. Should I ask Talia to bite me, even though there's still the possibility of me dying or turning into a horrible monster? Or should I stay human, and maybe never understand a part of her?" The man shook his head, his glasses foggy with tears. "It's not like I particularly want to become a werewolf, I mean... I like being human. I like who I am, and I feel comfortable in my own skin. But when I think about my son, about the fact that I will always have to be extremely careful when I'm around him until he's old enough because there's always the possibility he might bite me by mistake..." Craig sighed. "I really don't know what to do. And, well, you two have lived surrounded by werewolves your entire life, so I was wondering if you have ever wanted to become like them."

Leah bit her lip as her right hand played with her blonde ponytail. "That's not an easy question, and it probably doesn't have an easy answer," she said in an earnest tone. "We are very good friends with Chance and Kaylee, and we know some other werewolves our age, and yes... sometimes we don't get why they behave in a certain way or how they think or feel. But... that's okay, I think. Werewolves are werewolves, and humans are humans; we might be a bit different, but we can still get along perfectly."

"I mean," Ian intervened, brushing the carefully messy bangs falling in front of his eyes with his fingers. "Sure, werewolves are pretty cool, aren't they? Like, they are strong, and fast, and they have their pack bond, not to mention that they can heal a lot faster than us, but... being a keeper has its perks too, right?" The boy grinned, snapping his fingers, and a sparkle of silver magical energy rose through the air before exploding like the tiniest firework. "We know magic, and a ton of other secrets that nobody else does. And, well, even all those people out there, those who aren't werewolves and who don't know keeper magic like us... they can still enjoy their lives to the fullest, right?" His smile got bigger. "And if you are afraid you are not strong enough as a human... I mean, your wife is Natalia freaking Underhill. It takes some ba... I mean, some guts to be able to stand your ground against her... Ouch!" Ian massaged his side, where Leah's elbow had jokingly hit him.

"I think you should go to her," the girl said with a grin identical to that of her twin brother. "I'm sure she's waiting for you. Werewolves need keepers, just like she needs you."

Craig nodded; he seemed a bit more reassured than before. "Yes. And... thank you."

The twins shrugged in unison. "Don't mention it," Ian replied.

When Craig stepped into the room and saw Talia lying in their bed, her dark hair spread over the pillows and her black hair lost somewhere outside the window, he realized that it was the very first time, at least since that fateful night when the two of them had met, that she had ever looked so exhausted and devoid of energy. As soon as he noticed he was there, she opened her mouth and licked her lips.

"Please, pour me... some water," she murmured, pointing at the ornate ceramic pitcher resting on the bedside table.

"How do you feel?" Craig asked as his wife emptied the glass in large, thirsty gulps. She turned her eyes to him, and she looked somewhat amused by that question.

"I feel great, as you can see," she replied and, as always, Craig couldn't understand if she was serious or not. "I was... thinking."

"To our baby? Moira will bring him here soon," Craig reassured her. "I'm sure he's perfect."

Talia's eyes narrowed. "Of course he is perfect. He is our son, Craig. He will be nothing less than perfect." The woman nodded. "No, I was thinking about my brother. About the day after he came back..."

[center][b]***[/b][/center]

"What's with those faces? You all look like you've just seen a ghost!"

There were nine dishes on the perfectly set table, and a tray holding a pile of steaming hot pancakes - still untouched - next to a bottle of dark, dense maple syrup and a jug of orange juice, but only seven people at their seats. They had been waiting in silence, hoping... until that very moment.

Wyatt was standing on the threshold between the dining room and the hallway, his arms crossed on his chest covered in a light blue t-shirt, a small grin showing a pointy canine poking from under his upper lip; his glasses were missing - broken to pieces during his accursed transformation - and so was his earring, which had however been recovered by Richard, but he was still the same Wyatt: goofy, charming, a bit of a dork.

Except... not really, Talia noticed, as her younger brother stepped inside the living room, immediately followed by Drake, who seemed bent not to lose sight of his boyfriend for even a second ever again. Wyatt looked... [i]wirier[/i], but in no way smaller than before; his features were slightly more angular and had a bit less of their previous childish roundness to them, his eyes seemed sharper and - conversely - his heart sounded much calmer, more composed and controlled.

Before anyone could react, Inori and Leonardo jumped back to their feet and ran to him, clinging to him as if they couldn't believe he was really there; Wyatt looked down at the two, an expression of genuine surprise on his face, before his lips turned upwards in a vulnerable smile as he caressed the hair of the two betas. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm back now."

Inori looked up at him, her black eyes glimmering in relief and anger in equal parts. "That was a very bad move, Wyatt," she scolded him. "You made everyone worried sick. And... I'm glad you are back."

Wyatt's smile became a bit larger. "I know. Thanks for saving me, you all. It was hearing all your voices and all your feelings that pulled me back from... whatever horrible place I had sunk into."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there too, Wyatt." Everyone turned towards Grace, who was still sitting at her place, but was staring at her older brother with a look of relief on her face and watery eyes. "I really wanted to, but, you know..." Wyatt walked to her and hugged her from behind, brushing his cheek against her.

"I know, Grace... but the last thing I would have wanted would have been to put you in danger. That thing that I became was..." Wyatt gulped and stood silent for a moment. "Well, it doesn't matter anymore. It's gone now, and it won't come back." The young man looked at his parents with a lopsided smile on his face. "Mom, dad... I'm sorry about what happened. Guess I'll also be the weirdo who got himself turned into a direwolf from now on, huh?"

Richard and Cordelia walked around the table and stood right in front of their son. "No, Wyatt," the woman said, shaking her head. "We are sorry. We should have noticed that you were feeling so unbalanced. I have spent my whole life surrounded by other werewolves, and knowing I have never given enough importance to how you were feeling makes me think I am not as good an alpha as I could be."

Wyatt's timid smile evolved into a big grin. "We both know this isn't true, mom." The woman looked back at him with her usual serious expression, before it unfurled into a smirk almost identical to that of her son.

"Well, I was just trying to make you feel better, but... I guess you are right. I am still a pretty good alpha. And so are you, Wyatt," she replied.

"She is right," Richard added, placing his right hand on his son's shoulder. "We are proud of you." The three of them hugged for a long moment, and both Richard and Cordelia - shock of all shocks - seemed on the verge of tearing up.

"I mean, it's not like I did anything to be proud of..." the young man said in a small voice, even though he was clearly happy with his parents' words and all the attention he was receiving.

A small cough made everyone in the room turn around. "Well, according to Moira..." Craig murmured, his voice soft but devoid of any hesitation, despite being the only human in a room full of werewolves. "Coming back to normal after becoming a direwolf is anything but certain. She didn't want to tell you all, but... you still needed to want to come back, Wyatt. And I think you should be proud of that."

Wyatt smiled at his brother-in-law. "Well, I guess. I still don't think it's something that remarkable, but... thank you, Craig: I heard your voice too, amongst all the others. It's also thanks to you if I'm back." His eyes then moved to the man's left, facing the dark, inquisitive gaze of his older sister. "Talia," he said, and his smile didn't falter.

"Brother," Talia replied, her left hand resting against the curve of her belly. "I should have been there too, of course. I wanted to." She pursed her lips, as the position of her hand shifted, slowly moving towards her belly button. "And I hope you do not think I am using my unborn child as an excuse. It is still my fault, I should have..."

"Oh, shut up," Wyatt interrupted her, but his voice was good-natured. "This isn't about you, Talia."

The woman batted her eyelashes a couple times. "Well, of course not. This is about you. You are the one who managed to turn himself into a monster."

Wyatt stifled a chuckle. "I mean, yes, but that's..."

"And," this time it was Talia's turn to interrupt him. "You also managed to turn yourself back into a werewolf. Most of all, you did it without my help."

Wyatt's top fangs poked from the bottom of his lips, giving his smile a vulpine, derisive edge. "Guess you are not as strong and as indispensable as you think you are, huh?"

Richard and Cordelia both opened their mouths, as if to reprimand their son, but Talia spoke before they could. "You are right, I am not," she said, plain and simple, her black eyes staring straight into her brother's chestnut-colored stare.

Wyatt's mouth gaped for a moment, uncovering more of his pointy canines. "Oh," he replied, in a soft voice. "I... wasn't expecting that."

"I have always thought that being tough and strict - both with myself and with others - was the surest way to bring out one's best self, and I am afraid that might have been a misstep on my part," Talia confessed. Her younger brother, however, responded to those words with a genuine smile.

"You know, Talia..." Wyatt said, as his left hand searched for Drake. Fingers wrapped around fingers, and Wyatt squeezed his boyfriend's palm with affection. "I think recognizing your mistakes is where real strength lies."

The woman nodded. "Perhaps that is true." She held her right hand in mid-air, her left palm still caressing her pregnant belly. "I believe we should declare a truce. For real, this time, not like that night in the woods."

Wyatt snorted. "You make it sound like we've been at war with each other or something."

"Perhaps that is true, too," Talia replied with a smile. The two siblings shook their hands, their nails honing into claws that gently scraped against each other's wrist; their expressions didn't change, but it was quite clear they were both trying to crush the other's fingers. After some moments, though, they both released their grip, and Talia glanced at her own hand. "I guess my pregnancy made me... mellower," she observed in a somewhat distant tone.

"I dunno, I like this version of you much better," Wyatt replied.

The woman shifted her gaze towards him. "Usually, you would have said that you disliked this version of me way less," she jested.

Wyatt grinned at her. "Don't test your luck, sis. Now, who wants some pancakes? 'Cause I definitely do!"

[center][b]***[/b][/center]

"What about him?" Craig asked. Talia, her eyes once again gazing outside the window, licked her dry lips and shook her head.

"Nothing in particular," she replied. "So, you are still debating whether or not to become a werewolf."

Craig's face went scarlet. "Um..." he blurted out, his index finger rubbing against his cheek. "How do you..."

"I have very good ears and our bedroom door is awfully thin," Talia didn't even let him finish his question. "Come sit here next to me," she added, her head nodding towards the armchair close to the bed; Craig did as asked, and Talia grabbed his hand into hers - pale and a bit cold, but firm and strong, strong as steel - before letting out a small sigh. "You do know why I fell in love with you. I told you that story countless times, after all."

Craig sighed back, his free hand slithering under his glasses to rub the corner of one of his eyes. "I know, it's because I helped you that night. But still..."

"Still," Talia said. "You showed more courage than anyone else would have in the same situation. You saw something that could have easily killed you with just one claw of one of her paws, and your first and only instinct was to help her." The woman lowered her dark eyes for a moment, small crevices appearing on her forehead. "You know, it is so much easier to be brave when you have a wolf inside of you. But you? You only have yourself."

Craig made his best to smile at his wife. "You make it sound like it's a good thing."

"Because it is." Talia snickered. "Maybe this will make you laugh, but I have sometimes toyed with the idea of waking up one morning and discovering I am no longer a werewolf, but a human being."

"To be honest, I'm more... shocked than anything else," her husband replied. "I thought you loved being a werewolf."

Talia took some time to brush a lock of hair behind an ear that looked decidedly too pointy and triangular to belong to a regular human. "And I do, of course, but that is beside the point. I would welcome a challenge, though... Asking myself if I would still be able to be who I am without the physical strength any werewolf possesses is quite stimulating." The woman smiled at Craig. "So there it is: just like you wonder how it would feel to be one of us, I do ask myself how it would feel to be one of your kind." And then, Talia did something very much unlike her: she pulled Craig close, placing a soft kiss on his lips. A tiny moan escaped from Craig's throat as his tongue tasted the inside of his wife's mouth and his nose picked up the pungent and not at all unpleasant scent of her sweat.

"Am I interrupting anything?" The married couple broke their kiss and turned towards the door: Moira was standing on the threshold, her grandkids poking into the room from above her shoulders, identical amused smiles on their lips. In her arms, the keeper was carrying a cocoon made out of a light green towel, from which a round, tiny reddish face poked. "Here, your small bundle of joy," she snarked, passing the baby to Talia. "Well, I should probably call him a small bundle of grumpiness."

Talia and Craig's firstborn son didn't cry. He didn't even make a noise. If it wasn't for the fact that he sometimes blinked and his incredibly tiny nostrils dilated whenever he was exhaling, Craig would have thought Moira had handed them an incredibly realistic doll as a practical joke. He was just... staring at them, his grey eyes focused, his forehead covered in wrinkles, his microscopic lips pursed in an expression of perturbed concentration. The wisp of hair that crowned his head was neither black like his mother or brown like his father, but rather the same shade of blonde of his grandmother and his uncle; and, for the tiniest moment, Craig could have sworn he had seen his son's irises glitter in pale gold.

"See?" Talia murmured, caressing her baby's cheek with a fingertip. "I told you he was going to be perfect. And I think he got your nose."

"Yeah, and your personality for sure," Craig replied with a snicker, before realizing his wife was staring at him in silence. "I mean... sorry, that was rude."

"Well, it is true that I tended not to cry that much when I was a child," Talia conceded, her eyes once again gravitating towards her son. "But seriously, look at him. He is going to be the strongest, most amazing alpha one day."

Craig smiled at those words, even though he was sure he was never going to grasp how much they actually meant for his spouse, which tinged the corners of his expression with bitter, sad undertones... but only for a moment. "By the way... I think I know how you want to name him, and I agree." The woman's expression relaxed as she leaned over and placed a gentle kiss right above her newborn's nose, which didn't make him even bat an eye.

"Welcome home, Wyatt."

[center][b]***[/b][/center]

[b] Part 2 - I was told we'd be equals, someday [/b]

A night in the beginning of March. Not as unforgiving as its dark, deep, hungry sisters in the middle of Winter, that bit any exposed skin with cold, jagged fangs, but still not pleasantly warm as late Spring would be. However, as Leonardo took off his clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on top of a large tree branch alongside his pair of boots before wrapping his naked body in an old blanket Moira had lent him, he barely shivered; compared to the months he had spent alone on the road, plagued by cold, hunger and desperation, that night was a moment of joy, wonder and excitement. As his naked feet tapped against the hard ground, the skin on his legs rising in goosebumps, the young man's eyes darted around in the ever growing darkness, a crooked smile on his lips. "Is... is there anyone?" he asked, panting; he was so excited that - right after Moira had finished her speech - he had darted inside the forest without thinking of what he was doing, without making sure someone was following him. As the last echoes of his voice disappeared among the trees and Leo's lips let out a disappointed sigh, someone actually replied.

"Oh, here you are! You were running like you were being chased by the devil himself! Everything okay?" A muscular shape with glowing amber eyes stepped into the tiny glade, and Leo's heart skipped a beat.

"Alpha!" he exclaimed, moving closer to hug the other man, the blanket hanging from his shoulders falling on the forest floor completely forgotten. Drake, too, was naked - except for a red bandanna wrapped around one of his forearms - but his torso and limbs were covered in a generous pelt of dark fur; he was taller and much bulkier than Leonardo, his hands were capped with dark claws, his eyes shone with an otherworldly glimmer, and when he smiled down at his beta, he exposed his fangs.

"Glad to see you too!" he replied, his grey tail waving lazily behind his toned buttocks. "Why haven't you shifted yet, though? The chilliness is much more bearable, that way."

Leonardo, who was basking in the warmth of his alpha's skin and fur, his mind soothed by the sound of his powerful heartbeat, felt stupid all of a sudden. "Oh, damn, you are right!" he murmured, focusing on his more primal, bestial side; his legs stretched, calves and thighs inflating under nervous pale skin. A carpet of pale fur covered his faint six pack and his now toned arms, and a sparse beard grew on his cheeks, except where his skin was marked by the direwolf scars; the beta looked up, his pale golden irises flashing in quite happiness as his spine extended in a slender and fuzzy tail. "Sorry I ran off, I guess I feel... a bit restless tonight," he confessed, his ears - now elvish and fuzzy - twitching as he spoke.

Drake ruffled his hair in a tender gesture. "Hey, that's totally valid, okay? It was the same for me during my first full moon, and to be honest not much time has passed since then. Let's see, it was..." the alpha counted backwards on his clawed fingers, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Seven months? Wow, it both feels like yesterday and a whole life ago! But yeah... the first change is very intense! I can stick around if you want to, we can experience it together."

"R-really?" Leo whispered, twitching as he felt the tip of his canine penis emerge from the furry sheath attached to his groin. Drake looked down, noticing the budding erection, and a devious grin appeared on his lips.

"Yeah, really..." he murmured, leaning over. "And I think I know the perfect way to make you enjoy the moment to the fullest," he added, before his long, flat tongue slithered out of his mouth to trace the contours of Leo's pointy ear.

The young man's knees felt ready to give up. A moan that sounded like the soft yelp of a dog climbed up his throat as the claws of his feet dug deep into the soil, and a fat dollop of precum erupted from his cock, staining the grey fur of Drake's plump sheath. "Oh, Drake..." Leo growled, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of his alpha's tongue on his sensitive skin. "You are turning me on..."

Drake stopped licking and let out a small chuckle. "I mean, that was my intent, after all!" The muscular man turned around and leaned against the nearest tree, his bushy tail raised, the furry globes of muscle and flesh underneath exposed. "Fuck my ass, Leonardo. Fuck me as you change into a true werewolf for the very first time in your life."

A lustful growl emerged from Leo's lips. [i]Goddammit...[/i], he thought while his fingers started rubbing his own nipples, made rock-hard by the cold and the excitement. I love him so much... He hated him at first, of course, when he still thought that all werewolves were unredeemable monsters with no exceptions, when he was convinced one of them had killed his entire family; but then Drake's gentle soul, his willingness to put his own life on the line to save someone else, his goofy smile and his inner and outer strength... they captivated him, and now he couldn't even consider the idea of being apart from him. If Leonardo truly was a werewolf, then Drake was his moon, bathing him with its gentle, soothing light. "Is that... an order, alpha?" the young man asked, a smile exposing fangs which looked - and felt - longer and deadlier than before.

Drake turned his head towards him, his visible golden iris sparkling with passion and love and lust. "Yes. Very much so," he growled softly. Leonardo wrapped a hand around his cock - plump, warm, slick with precum - and squeezed it, feeling the leathery pads under his fingertips massage the smooth surface, causing his testicles to throb; the young werewolf moaned as the elongated slit on top of his canine penis dribbled dense clear fluid all over the forest soil.

"Come on, Leo, there's not much time left..." Drake's voice had a more savage edge to it now. "I can feel it coming, it's like my skin is tingling and my blood is boiling..."

"O-oh!" Leonardo exclaimed; he felt a droplet of sweat running down his forehead, and for a moment the prickling sensation it left on his skin was his entire world. [i]Drake is right, it's happening... it's like an explosion in slow motion.[/i] He flexed his free hand, the one that wasn't busy jerking off his beastly prick, and observed his fingers getting thicker, his pointed fingernails growing into proper, proud curved claws one quarter of an inch at a time, the palm pads swelling and puffing up. His body was like an engine being powered by the moonlight.

Then, Drake growled, bringing him back to reality. "Fuck me, Leo. Fuck me now," he commanded in a stern, imposing tone that sent shiver down the young beta's spine.

"Yes, alpha!" he exclaimed. He could see muscles slithering and pulsating under the skin of Drake's back like restless snakes, his already wide frame enlarging as he grunted and groaned; with trembling, shifting hands that looked less and less human with every passing second, he lined his wolf cock with the pulsating butthole in front of him and thrusted. Half of the length of the pulsating red pillar slid quite effortlessly inside Drake's hungry hole. "Oh, damn..." Leonardo groaned as the sensitive skin of his penis absorbed the warmth of his alpha's tight hole; it was a flow of pure energy travelling through the urethra down to his scrotum, where it exploded and spread through his entire body, like a beam of white light hitting a prism and splitting into all the colors of the rainbow.

Drake growled in bestial pleasure as Leo's erection sank deeper and deeper into his fleshy passage; his ears - as if they were made of nothing but malleable plasticine - extended and flattened, rotating to point upwards before travelling in that very same direction along the curve of his skull. A dense, greymetal fur claimed their outer side, turning them into pointy, alert wolf ears.

The sight of his alpha undergoing his very first true animalistic change - as minor as it was - in front of his very eyes was almost too much for Leonardo: the inexperienced beta moaned as he felt a short jet of dense werewolf precum being pumped through his pulsating cock before coating the inside of Leo's ass. "[i]Cazzo...[/i]" he murmured, reverting for a moment to his native language, through what felt like way too many teeth for the current size of his mouth. "S-sorry, alpha..." he managed to mutter, his voice muddled and hard-edged at the same time.

The only response from Drake was a low growl that shook Leo to the core, making his bones vibrate as if they were tuning forks. His brown hair, still tied in a loose ponytail, grew longer and coarser, darkening to gunmetal and spreading down his neck, then the upper part of his back, then his shoulders... a veritable carpet of savagery claiming his olive skin as more and more of the mighty beast within him came out to play under the moonlight.

[i]I want to see him[/i], Leonardo thought, despite the horniness and the sheer energy of the change clouding his brain. [i]I want to see him for real. His wilder side, his true alpha nature.[/i] He tried to say something, but his tongue was too thick, his mouth too alien, his fangs too long to allow him to articulate human words; all that came out from his darkening lips was a soft, prolonged whimper accompanied by the nearly unquenchable instinct to scratch the soil with one of his clawed feet. The beta adjusted his position a bit, his dick gyrating inside the tight manhole, eliciting more and more grunts from the transforming Drake.

The alpha arched his powerful back as the changes progressed and the fur climbed down the curve of his shoulders to claim his thick biceps; his hands still looked mostly human, but they had grown to be disproportionately large, with palms the size of dishes and fingers topped with obsidian sickles. Suddenly, he raised one before slashing down, cutting through the tree bark as if it were tissue paper as splinters of wood flew around the small glade.

[i]I'm not scared[/i], Leo told himself as Drake's body went through another bout of growth, his bones lengthening, his muscles stretching like rubber, his ligaments extending. [i]I'm not... scared[/i], he repeated. He wasn't trying to convince himself: if anything, he was genuinely stupefied by how well his mind was reacting to the whole process. He had been afraid he would have freaked out while turning into something so similar to the beast that had killed his family, but... there was no reason to be afraid: he was still himself, he wasn't turning into a monster, and neither was Drake. They were becoming something else, for sure; something primal, wild, free. Not necessarily something better than human - even though Leonardo couldn't deny the transformation was amazing, it was like a full-body orgasm - but... definitely something more than human.

The bones of his face started throbbing of a dull, distant ache that couldn't even be described as an annoyance; Leonardo - his clawed hands wrapped around Drake's enlarging midsection, his sides thrusting backward and forward in a slow but constant rhythm - let out a surprised mewl as his skull popped and crackled. One of his hands went to his mouth, feeling the reshaping jaw under his sensitive pads, his face being warped beyond recognition as his very first muzzle began to form. [i]Will Drake still like me as a wolf?[/i], Leo asked himself as his flat canine tongue tentatively licked his new set of teeth and fangs. [i]I want him to be proud of me[/i]. And not only Drake, he realized: he wanted Wyatt and Inori to be proud of him too, and Angela, and Patrick, and Kaylee... and yes, even Chance, despite the fact that they had had a tumultuous first encounter. They were all - Leonardo's enlarging heart skipped a beat at that thought - his family now.

Joints clicked, bones creaked, the rib cage expanded after every breath he took. As he once again slammed his erection deep inside his alpha, Leonardo realized with genuine surprise how powerful he felt: he tightened his arms - claws still grabbing Drake's furry midsection - and his biceps bulged, emerging like whales breaching the surface. [i]Fuck yes![/i], he thought, his brain wrapped in feral euphoria; he had never cared about being big, but now it seemed natural and fitting, at least in the span of that night.

Both Leonardo and Drake looked more and more like monstrous bodybuilders with every passing moment, although the alpha was already much more wolf than man. [i]I need to catch up[/i], Leonardo thought, his distending forehead scrunching in desperate concentration. [i]I don't want to disappoint him[/i]. A long shiver of pleasure travelled across his entire body as his skin shifted in hue, going from pale pink to a strong shade of light grey; Leo raised one of his hand-paws - clawed, padded, disproportionately big - and flicked one of his now charcoal, rubbery nipples that protruded a good inch or two from the meaty shelf of his pecs. A tiny explosion of bliss ignited in his scrotum, and a bullet of precum was shot by his canine cock deep into Drake's lower intestines. [i]I'm going to knot my alpha during my very first full moon night[/i], he thought. He could hardly believe himself.

Leonardo's back was feeling much warmer than before, a soft embrace shielding him from the chilliness of the night; the shifting werewolf murred, his dark lips retracting to uncover his set of fangs, before he realized what was happening: his pelt, of course! Spirals of white fur bloomed from his grey skin, slowly covering the entirety of his body; Leonardo looked down at his left arm and his muzzle distended into the canine equivalent of a proud smile when he realized that the pattern of the scars left by the direwolf was still visible, strikes of black fur against white.

The young werewolf growled in delight as his scalp tingled and his ash blonde hair lightened until it matched the rest of his pelt; something clicked, deep inside of him, as if all the pieces of his heart had finally gotten into their rightful place. After even he didn't know how long, Leonardo felt whole again; and, as he kept making love to his alpha - who, just like him, had now completely turned into a powerful beast, the perfect, harmonious blend of animal and human - tears trickled down his amber eyes, staining his bichromatic fur. He didn't stop crying even when the pleasure in his groin became almost unbearable and his knot inflated inside Drake's fleshy hole, tying the two of them together.

A low, guttural sound escaped from Drake's throat; Leonardo, tears still running, cocked his head, his ears alert. What is he..., he thought, before the pungent, intoxicating smell of werewolf cum reached his sensitive nose. The alpha's body trembled and spasmed below him, and he pointed his massive triangular head towards the sky as a long howl of bliss and jubilation resonated in the clearing, loud and clear as a thunder during a July storm.

Leonardo bit his lower lip, as right underneath him his alpha reached his orgasm. He didn't want that moment to end, he didn't want to let go of Drake, he wanted the pleasure and the terrible melancholy that was threatening to rip the heart from his chest to last for a long, long time... forever, maybe. But then again, just like the full moon rising in the night sky, just like the dramatic shift his own body had gone through, there was no way to stop what was going to happen; Leonardo winced at the slight pain of a wave of dense werewolf cum making its way through his urethra, until the tip of his pointy dick exploded deep inside Drake's rear like a powerful geyser.

Leonardo collapsed on top of Drake with a long sigh, and the two of them slid against the tree until they were a huge fuzzy pile against the hard soil. "That was... amazing," Drake grumbled, and Leo could see the side of the other werewolf's muzzle stretching into a contented smile; the beta looked into his visible amber eye and - despite the temporary drowsiness overcoming his body alongside the afterglow - did his best to smile back.

"Are you... going now, right?" the white werewolf murmured, his golden gaze lowering. [i]I know, it's so dumb for me to feel jealous in this situation[/i], he thought, his ears flattening against his skull. [i]I know this is something he has to do, but I can't help feeling a bit jealous...[/i]

Drake snickered. "Well, as soon as your knot lets me go, at least," he growled back. "So... what do you think?"

Leonardo looked at his hand-paws, at the leathery pads decorating his powerful palms, at his feral claws, at the beautiful white fur. "It's indescribable, really. Like being in a body that is not mine, but at the same time is more mine than before. And we get to feel like this every full moon?"

The alpha nodded. "Pretty great, huh? And wait until we can run as a pack under the stars! That's so energizing!"

Leonardo's black lips pursed. "But... not tonight?"

Drake looked back at him, and a vague smile appeared on his muzzle. "Yeah... not tonight. Sorry, Leo."

"Oh, hey, here you are!" The bushes at the edge of the clearing rustled before a huge - although not as huge as Drake - golden werewolf emerged, a tiny earring still dangling from his left triangular ear. "I followed the smell of sex, you horndog. Howdy, Leo!"

"U-um, hey, Wyatt," Leonardo replied as he felt his knot deflating and his dick slithering out of the warm confines of Drake's asshole, only leaving a trickle of dense spunk behind. [i]I hope he's not angry with me because I had sex with Drake[/i], he thought; immediately after, however, a giant paw entered his field of view, and when Leonardo raised his head he saw that Wyatt was trying to help him get back on his hind paws, a toothy grin on his muzzle.

"Damn, Leonardo, you look great!" he exclaimed, and both his growls and his heart sounded genuinely impressed. "Guess someone here had the right idea when he offered you the bite!"

Leonardo scratched the back of his big head in a gesture reminiscent of his alpha. "Uh... thanks," he murmured, lowering his muzzle and his gaze. Wyatt, however, placed a couple of fingers under his chin and gently pushed it upwards.

"I'm serious," he said, his golden eyes shining, focused. "You clearly are a superb werewolf. You should be proud of that."

Whatever hard, jagged shard of doubt and reservation towards Wyatt that Leonardo still had embedded in his heart melted into something warm and syrupy that almost brought him to tears. [i]I can't hate him. And why should I? No, scratch that... how could I? He's the one who made Drake who he is, and then Drake made me who I am. Even though my stupid little brain tells me I should feel jealousy towards him, I... can't help but loving you, Wyatt. My alpha's alpha[/i]. "I know," he replied, fangs peeking from his lips. "And it's all thanks to you, Wyatt." The beta shifted his gaze to the massive, wonderful creature next to him, hundreds of pounds of muscles and ligaments and gunmetal fur. "You should go, now. I'll find the others."

Drake nodded at those growls. "I'll see you when the sun rises again," he said, before devoting all of his attention towards his mate. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Wyatt flexed the claws of his right hand-paw, a manic grin on his triangular muzzle. "Already ahead of you..." His arm slashed through the night air with enough vigor to ruffle the fur on Leonardo's chest; Drake, however, had taken a step backwards, and the attack didn't even graze him.

"Try harder, Wyatt!" the dark grey werewolf growled before darting away on all fours, leaving behind only a powerful and joyous howl that echoed through the forest, disturbing the flight of some lonely bats.

Wyatt looked at his running boyfriend, and Leonardo could clearly see the pride on his muzzle, like sunbeams radiating from his eyes. "Have fun, Leo," he said. "This is just your first full moon night of many... however this one might end, you can have him for yourself, next time." And with one last, dangerous grin uncovering shiny fangs, the golden wolf gave pursuit.

Leonardo sat on his haunches, his front paw pads sinking in the humus, his head spinning in a vortex of bittersweet sadness and confusion. [i]Should I hope he wins?[/i], he asked himself. [i]Or that he loses?[/i] But no matter how much he ruminated on that thought, he found no satisfying answer.

[center][b]***[/b][/center]

"So... tomorrow is a full moon, huh?" Wyatt, his head resting on one of Drake's pecs, looked up to his mate, his golden eyes sparkling in the darkness of the bedroom.

"Yep," Drake replied, pulling Wyatt a bit closer; the two of them were lying in Wyatt's bed, snuggling under the blankets, completely human except for their supernatural shining irises. "Feels like ages since last time, doesn't it?" he added with a smile.

Wyatt grinned back. "A lot of things have changed since that, after all. We didn't have Leonardo, for example... and hey, I wasn't an uncle back then!"

"True!" Drake replied. "And I wasn't, well..."

His boyfriend's smile didn't falter. "You weren't an alpha, you mean? You know you it doesn't bother me at all anymore, right? The fact that you are an alpha doesn't make me any less of one myself."

Drake's fingers caressed the side of Wyatt's face, making him purr like a giant cat, and played with the short bronze chain of his earring, now back to its rightful place. "I know, but..." he gulped down, trying to find the right words to express the confusing swarm of thoughts infesting his head. "Like, it's still difficult for me not to think about that night. And if it's hard for me, I can't even imagine how much more traumatic it must be for you."

Wyatt kissed the skin right next to Drake's pierced nipple, sending a shiver of pleasure throughout his boyfriend's chest. "I mean, as I told you, Moira and literally everyone already, it's not like I remember much about that night anyway. I recall us fighting in the backyard, then there's... a lot red and black, and then I'm being carried home by my dumb, amazing boyfriend." He then pulled himself towards the row of pillows, so that his face rested right next Drake's. "But... things have changed, right? I am different, you are different. As one wise hobbit once said, there is no going back." Wyatt's expression turned melancholic, and a small sigh escaped from his lips. "I wish I could go back, but at the same time... I don't want to be the one I was back then. I never want to feel that angry and restless ever again."

Drake leaned over and kissed Wyatt on the forehead. "I know that feel. I felt like everything was simpler before, when I didn't know or didn't want to admit I was an alpha. But it would feel... wrong to go back."

Wyatt nodded. "So... what are we now?" he asked, and an awkward silence followed.

"What... do you mean?" Drake gulped, even though he knew - or at least he thought he knew - what his mate meant. Oh, shit, is he breaking up with me?, he asked himself, frantically trying not to panic. "Wyatt, you know I love you..."

Wyatt looked back at him, a serene expression on his impish face. "I know. I love you too, Drake. That's something that hasn't changed. But we have." His eyes shifted for a moment, glancing at his bed. "I mean, when's the last time we changed my sheets?"

Drake's brow furrowed. "I don't know, but what does that have to do with..." And then, the realization hit him in the chest with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. "Oh."

Wyatt caressed Drake's unruly hair. "Yeah. We haven't had that much sex lately, huh? And just to be clear, it's definitely not because I don't find you attractive anymore. In fact, it's quite the opposite..." he punctuated the last sentence with a soft, lustful growl that exposed canines that were longer than before.

Drake felt a warm, wet sensation inside his chest. "Same for me..." he murmured, pulling his boyfriend close to share a kiss; nothing sexual, just a mutual expression of love. "But..."

"But it doesn't feel right, huh?" Wyatt completed the sentence for him. Drake nodded in return.

"I mean, I honestly haven't realized it myself until a couple minutes ago, but..." Of course he had had sex with his packmates - especially with Leonardo - and he knew Wyatt had, too... but when it had come to the two of them as of late, they had just kissed and cuddled and slept together while hugging, nothing more than that; and what was so weird and even a bit scary was how good it felt, not being subjected to that pressure, that animalistic fury, that hunger... And yet, Wyatt was right: it was different than before, because they themselves were. "What do you think we should do?" he asked Wyatt, his tone nervous and restless; for once, he wasn't a big predator, but a small woodland creature too scared to raise his head to check if the shadow up above was indeed a bird of prey getting ready to sink cruel talons into his back, and he didn't like that feeling at all. [i]Am I not supposed to be an alpha? Strong, dependable, reliable...[/i]

"I think you know what we should do," Wyatt replied, his smile still persisting. Drake had equated him to the sun on multiple occasions, especially when he was in his feral form, but the comparison had never felt more on point: Wyatt's presence was comforting and warm without burning, like gentle rays of light in a summer morning.

"You mean... tomorrow night?" Drake's teeth sank into his lower lip. [i]This is not something we can avoid any longer, can't we?[/i], he told himself.

Wyatt nodded. "Indeed... a wolf against another wolf. That will determine once and for all who's the other's alpha. If I win, you will submit, and if you win, well... I will submit." His smile widened and became dangerous; a cool, wild kind of dangerous, instead of the somewhat deranged and unstable smirk he would have sported before going direwolf. "I can assure you, I have no intention of losing," he said.

I thought it would have been so easy to lose on purpose, Drake reflected as he caressed his boyfriend's pale golden hair, amber eyes into amber eyes. To lose and to submit, to be an obedient beta again and to go back to what once was... but no, Wyatt is right. There is no going back. "Me neither," he replied with bravado, before once again kissing Wyatt on the lips.

Wyatt grinned back to him. "I'm not expecting anything less than that." All of a sudden, his smile vanished and his eyes grew perturbed. "Although..."

"Although?" Drake repeated, the single word weighing on his tongue like a boulder.

"What do you think is going to happen if neither of us loses?"

[center][b]***[/b][/center]

Two beasts bouncing through the forest, running among the trees, exchanging blows with clawed paws. The bigger one was grey, sturdy and solid like a mountain; the smaller one was agile, quick and constantly in motion, a flash of pure, liquid gold.

The dawn was going to be upon them very soon, and they both knew it: they could feel their skin tingling under their thick pelts, the boundless energy contained in their massive bodies starting to dissipate, mere minutes before their current form would be sealed somewhere deep inside their souls and hearts only to resurface one whole month from that moment, during the next full moon. And yet, they persisted: after all, they both would have never forgiven the other - or themselves - if they had given up the fight.

"Still not... tired yet?" Wyatt asked as his long pink tongue lolled on the side of his pointy muzzle.

"I could go... on... all week..." Drake replied. To anyone who wasn't another werewolf or an expert keeper, the sounds made by the two would have seemed nothing more than a random cacophony of grunts and growls, but they were indeed a full, coherent language.

Wyatt's paw swiped diagonally, mere inches from connecting with Drake's right front thigh. "Pffft... I could do this... for an entire... month..."

[i]Except... we don't have a month, of course[/i], Drake pondered as he and Wyatt distanced themselves a bit, circling each other, walking on four paws like giant feral wolves. [i]Judging by the sky, we probably have five minutes... or even a lot less than that[/i]. "How about... one final hit?" he growled, showing his impressive fangs to his boyfriend. "That should be... enough, right?"

Wyatt nodded, his nostrils wide as he exhaled. "Yeah, but... remember what I told you last night. I won't... lose, Drake."

"Yeah, and I told you... I'm not gonna lose either," Drake replied, grinning in an almost human way.

Wyatt closed his right hand-paw into a fist bigger than his human head, and raised it towards Drake in a clumsy, yet determined gesture. "One hit, huh?" he grunted. The world around them was growing brighter with every passing second, as the sky in the eastern corner shifted from black, to blue, then to purple and finally to the tenuous pink of sunset.

"Yes," Drake nodded. "The last one." With a powerful roar, he lunged at Wyatt, his body a giant cannonball made of muscles and fur and bare fangs; the golden werewolf growled back as he darted towards his mate, ready to strike. In that very moment they were nothing but pure, unadulterated instinct, primordial beasts possessed by some ancient, divine spirit; nothing existed except their own bodies, each other and that ephemeral instant of perfection, the kind of thing that happens once in a lifetime.

And then, the sun came out.

Its rays climbed up from the horizon like long fingers made of light, hitting the werewolves right as their punches connected with each other's muzzle; the two tumbled on the ground, sliding over the hard, unforgiving soil and the freshly sprouted grass. [i]Oh, shit[/i], Drake thought. He tried to climb back on his hind paws, but his body was as heavy and unresponsive as a slab of marble, and his limbs and torso felt like they were covered in ants. He wasn't in pain, just... tired. So, so tired. [i]I did my best. I did it, and if I lost, at least I did it right[/i], he thought as his brain slipped in a deep, temporary night just as a new day began to reclaim its rightful place in the world all around him.

When he reopened his eyes, Drake was human again: he was naked, lying on the ground shivering, and he felt like he had half a pound of soil stuck in his butt crack. [i]So... it's true? Did I lose?[/i], he asked himself. He had expected to feel relief at the idea of being able to go back to being Wyatt's big, dependable beta boyfriend, so when his fists curled in impotent rage and tears started streaming down his dirty face and his mud-caked beard, he felt surprised at himself for a moment. "Shit..." he murmured at the clear sky above.

"Nah, don't be like that..."A voice, coming from somewhere behind his head; behind, but not above, as if the owner of that voice was lying on the ground too. Wyatt's voice. "We both... kinda fucked up, I guess?" he added, alongside a short, painful chuckle. "I tried to get up, but I can barely speak right now..."

"Did I hurt you?" Drake managed to exclaim. "You are okay, right? You are not... bleeding or anything?"

Wyatt laughed again. "Oh, Drake, worrying about everyone else first as always..." The young man sighed, and even if Drake couldn't see him, he knew he was crying. "I just... thought I could win. Just this once."

"But... you didn't lose," Drake tried to argue in a feeble tone. Considering how he had felt when he thought he had lost, he now was expecting to be relieved, but... not even he was sure what the hell was going on inside of him. There was confusion, of course, and a tad of sadness, perhaps even a pinch of rage. But no relief, nor happiness. "I don't understand, I..." his mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no sound came out, like a fish gasping for air. "I didn't win..." he finally murmured.

"Me neither," Wyatt replied. The tears streaming down his boyfriend's eyes burned as if they were rolling on Drake's own skin. "In the end, we both lost."

Drake sniffed, his vision field of vision impaired and muddled. "I'm sorry, Wyatt," ha said. His left hand jerked around, stretched above his head, trying to find his packmate and only encountering damp grass and hard soil.

"Me too, Drake," Wyatt replied, before their attempts at talking devolved into quiet sobbing. That's how the rest of the pack found them some minutes later: naked, dirty, crying and lying in the grass, their outstretched hands so close they could almost touch, but separated by only a couple of fateful inches.

[center][b]***[/b][/center]

[b]Part 3 - Farewell, my summer[/b]

The day Drake left was sunny and warm, as if spring had woken up early from her seasonal slumber with the express purpose of paying him good luck. [i]It should be raining[/i], Drake pondered as he looked outside the window of what had been his bedroom for the past eight months. [i]It would be raining, if this was a movie[/i]. He couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed; then again, even during Hiyashi's funeral the sky had been spotless; pathetic fallacy apparently wasn't a thing, around Cerulean Falls. With a sigh, the young man looked down at the bed, where his backpack - full to the brim - was waiting for him, the same backpack he had during his camping trip in the woods, the night he broke his leg and met Wyatt, back when his life was completely different and he was still a human...

Drake shook his head, annoyed by the stray thought, his ponytail bouncing briskly against the nape of his neck. [i]Nah, that's bullshit[/i], he told himself. [i]I am still human[/i]. He looked around with a sad glint in his dark eyes, paying a silent goodbye to the bedroom. [i]I have so many good memories about this place... although, to be fair, a ton of them are about fucking. Well, I guess those still count, though.[/i]

Grace was waiting for him on the threshold of her own bedroom, her cloud of brown hair somewhat contained into some semblance of a low ponytail, her grey eyes a bit watery despite the fact that her face remained proudly stoic. "I'm going to miss you. Just a little bit," she declared.

Drake smiled back at her. "I'll miss you too, Grace. You were the first person I met when I woke up here, after all." His grin widened as he blinked three or four times in quick succession, a clumsy attempt at fighting back tears. "And you are going to become an amazing alpha one day, for sure."

Grace's nostrils flared a bit. "I mean, of course." A moment of stilted silence. "But... you know, if you want to, I can give you a hug."

The man smirked and opened his arms. "Permission granted." Grace pressed her face against Drake's abdomen, wrapping her arms around his back; the two stood like that, in the middle of the corridor, for the good part of a minute, and Drake had to fight the instinct to scratch the nape of his neck. "Is... everything okay, Grace?" he asked after a while. "Maybe we should..."

"Don't you dare," the girl grumbled before she let out a noise suspiciously similar to a sniffle. It took her quite a bit, but in the end, when she let go of Drake, her eyes were no longer wet (even though there was a suspicious damp spot on the front of his hoodie). "Well... goodbye, Drake." The earring dangling from her lobe glinted in the morning light, like a tiny dreamcatcher. "Next time you see me, I'll be an alpha for sure," she stated in a dramatic tone before turning around. "I mean, unless you are back in like six months, because I don't think mom and dad will let me join the juvenile pack that soon..."

Richard and Cordelia were standing right next to the front door; the man looked like he had just finished crying, but still did his best to put the most charming smile on his face. "So... it's time, huh?" he said, and despite the brevity of that sentence, his voice almost broke.

Drake nodded. "I..." he bit his lip, unsure of what to say. How could he express everything he felt for the two people in front of him? The gratitude, the respect, the admiration, the sensation of being home and of belonging? "Thanks. For everything." Not the best he could have done, but an honest attempt, all things considered.

"We will all miss you," Cordelia declared, her tone somewhat mellower than her usual; almost losing her son to the darker side of lycanthropy had smoothed some of the sharpest edges of her personality, although not that many of course. "You will always have a place here."

"And a job!" Richard was quick to add. "You were a very promising apprentice... although I have to admit Inori was difficult to top, that girl is a natural for sure..." Cordelia glared at her husband, and he stopped rambling pretty much on the spot. "Oh, right, she and Leo are already with Wyatt and the rest of the pack," he said.

"You have already said your goodbyes to everyone else, right?" Cordelia asked, even though it was clear she already knew the answer.

Drake lowered his gaze, staring at his battered grey sneakers. "I, um..." he had visited Moira's cottage yesterday afternoon, and the old keeper hadn't even pretended to be surprised at the news.

"Took you long enough!" she had exclaimed before letting out an earthy laugh and patting Drake's back with enough vigor to cut his breath short, all the while her pack of small dogs tried to gnaw on his ankles with their vicious little fangs. "I think it's the right choice, kid. You need to see how the wide world out there is."

Talia had pretty much shared the same sentiment when Drake had paid her and Craig a visit immediately after. "Now that you have at least accepted the fact that you are an alpha," she had said while crading Wyatt Jr. in her arms; the newborn was awake and alert, his irises constantly shifting between grey and golden, but never leaving Drake for even one second. "You need to find out what kind of alpha you are. It is that simple."

"Yeah." Back to the present, Drake once again found himself fighting the temptation of scratching the skin of his neck. "Well, except, you know..." It was getting harder and harder, pushing all those tears back. "I think I should go to them. I should go to him. No point, you know... hesitating and stuff."

"And stuff," Cordelia repeated with a tiny smirk.

"Come on, Delia, don't tease him..." Richard said, before ruffling Drake's hair with gentle fingers.

"Well, before I go... there's one last thing I wanted to tell you," the young man cleared his throat, once again trying to restrain himself from crying. "Living here has been... well, an adventure on its own, for sure. But most of all, it was like being part of his family, from the very first day."

Cordelia and Richard didn't say a word in reply: instead, they just hugged him, first the woman, then the man, and the sound of their heartbeats told Drake everything he needed to know as tears finally rolled down his cheeks. "As I told you before, Drake, you are part of this family," Cordelia stated, her mahogany eyes as intense as always. "I still expect you to become my son's husband in a not too distant future, of course."

Drake, still crying, felt his cheeks redden under his bushy beard. "W-well, I mean... it depends on whether o-or not he wants it too...." he managed to blurt out, stumbling on his own words.

Cordelia's perfectly shaped eyebrow rose so much Drake thought it was going to detach from her face. [i]Really?[/i], her expression said. [i]I guess you don't realize how much my stupid son loves you, then.[/i]

"Yeah, you should go to him," Richard said, his voice soft and fatherly. "Just... call us, from time to time. I never know where my job will take me next, after all! Maybe we'll meet again soon, somewhere in the world!"

As Drake stepped outside Underhill Manor, he took one long moment to say goodbye to the old and austere building - an imposing noblewoman made of wood and stone - and its tall windows that glinted like countless jewels adorning its neck and cleavage in the dazzling sun of March. [i]I'm sure I'll see you again[/i], he thought with a small grin. [i]It's not like you can go anywhere, after all![/i]

The young man started walking towards the line of trees where the nearby meadow met the beginning of the forest, gravel crunching under his feet; as he went, a sigh escaped from his lips: there was one last person he needed to talk to, before meeting with Wyatt and the rest of the pack, but it wasn't to say goodbye. If anything, it was the exact opposite. Drake pulled his smartphone out from the front pocket of his jeans, almost made it fall to the ground and then dialed a number with trembling fingers.

"[i]Drake?[/i]" his mother had picked up the phone before Drake could even raise it to his ear. "[i]It's been a while! Everything okay there?[/i]"

Drake gulped and almost choked on his own saliva. "W... well," he managed to spit out between one fit of coughing and the other.

"[i]Something's wrong?[/i]" The woman at the other end of the line asked in a solicitous tone.

"No, no..." Drake finally replied. "I mean, yeah, no, I'm alright... I just... wanted to talk to you, that's all. Are you okay? What about dad?"

"[i]We are okay, don't worry! Same old, same old, as they say.[/i]" Just a moment of silence, enough for Drake to understand his mother was still worried. "[i]I'm sorry, I don't want to sound pushy, but... are you sure you are alright? You sound nervous... is there anything you need to tell me, Drake? Have you got fired? I won't get mad, I promise. I just feel like there's something you really wish to tell me.[/i]"

[i]Damn[/i], Drake told himself. [i]She's as perceptive as ever.[/i] He had forgotten not everyone needed to hear someone else's heartbeat to know what they were thinking. "Well, there is... something I need to talk about. Both to you and dad, actually." Drake cleared his throat. "It's not something serious, don't worry! Well, okay, it is serious, but it's not bad serious or anything. It's just... a lot to unpack."

If Drake's mother had been perturbed by his words, her tone of voice didn't betray it. "[i]Should I call dad? He's outside, gardening.[/i]"

"Oh? Oh, no, no, I... I don't want to do it on the phone. How about tonight? At dinner?"

This time, a longer period of silence followed. "[i]At dinner? You mean... you are coming here?[/i]" His mother now sounded utterly confused, as if the mere idea of her son visiting was something outside the realm of possibilities.

"W-well... yes?" Drake scratched his hair. He had finally reached the outskirts of the forest, and the smell of leaves, bark and resin tickled his sensitive nose. "I mean, is that a problem?"

"[i]Oh, no, of course not I was just... surprised, that's all! I mean, we've seen you once since last July, and we barely had time to talk![/i]" Drake had the distinct impression that his mother was subtly trying to rub his prolonged absence in his face. "[i]Are you sure you haven't gotten yourself fired?[/i]"

"Yeah, mom, I'm sure," Drake hung his head. It's more like I quitted, he thought in a gloom tone. Well, no, that's not correct either... it's more a sabbatical. And that's by far the least difficult thing to explain, so why am I worrying about that specifically?! "Also, um... I won't be alone. There will be another person with me, at least. Probably two. So, well... can you ask dad to move all his fishing equipment out of the spare room? 'Cause he definitely still keeps everything in there, knowing him."

"[i]Another person?[/i]" Drake's mother repeated, enunciating every syllable.

"Yep."

"[i]Maybe two?[/i]"

"That's what I said."

A sigh at the other end of the line. "[i]Listen, Drake, if you have gotten a girl pregnant, you should at least...[/i]"

"What?! Mom! No!" The young man closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. [i]This is going nowhere. Talking via phone was a terrible idea[/i]. "I'll explain everything to you tonight. I promise. Just know that I'm okay, I haven't gotten anyone pregnant, I haven't committed any major crime and that..." Drake's words stopped, his throat a cold, hard lump as twin tears rolled down his cheeks and lost themselves somewhere in his beard. "...t-that despite everything, I'm still me. Okay, mom?"

"[i]O... okay,[/i]" the woman replied. Drake could feel she had a thousand questions swimming inside her brain, but she refrained from asking them, at least for the time being. "[i]I know. I mean... you are still my boy. I love you, Drake.[/i]"

"I love you too, mom."

Taking Wyatt's flair for the dramatic into consideration, one might have expected that he and the others would have been waiting for Drake at the glade where the two had met; something like that, however, would have been a bit too on the nose even for him. The other werewolves were just standing in a random clearing at the end of one of the countless paths that criss-crossed through the forest, with nothing special or remarkable to distinguish it.

And yet, in that very moment it was the most important - and at the same time, the most terrible - place in the entire world for Drake. It was the place where he was going to say goodbye to his boyfriend.

"Hey, Drake! Was starting to wonder if you've gotten lost or something!" Drake was still surprised by how much Wyatt had changed in such a short timespan, despite the fact that he was still the same person; the way he walked was more graceful and controlled than before, his voice was still vibrant and sarcastic in tone but without that jagged edge, his nostrils never flared nervously anymore when some unexpected smell slithered inside his nose... but his artfully messy hair was still the same, the way the tips of his canines poked from his upper lip was still the same, and the nervous twitches of his slender fingers was still the same.

"Yeah, sorry it took me so long..." Drake said with a nervous chuckle. [i]Should I feel less uncomfortable?[/i], he asked himself. [i]Or am I not comfortable enough?[/i] He had never had to face a situation like that before, not once in his entire life; even the strength of an alpha werewolf was of no help in that scenario. "Is... everything okay?"

Something glinted for a moment in the corner of one of Wyatt's eyes, behind the cover of his glasses. "God, that's such a stupid question," the other replied, smiling. "You know perfectly well it's not. But, well... that's how life goes, huh? And, I mean... this is not a farewell after all."

Drake rubbed the back of his index finger against his lips, stifling a grin. "Yeah. It's just a goodbye," he said.

They both knew it wasn't true. It was a farewell alright. [i]We are going to leave our old selves behind[/i], Drake thought as he slowly walked towards the rest of the pack, each step feeling as heavy as one million pounds. [i]And when we meet again, we'll be new. Different. Better, I hope.[/i]

And yet, all of them were different already; some of them had changed more than others, but without any doubt not only he and Wyatt, but also the six wonderful people in front of him were better than when he had first met them.

"I still cannot fully process the fact that you are leaving," Angela murmured, but the softness of her tone was just silk hiding the iron of her core, and her eyes - albeit a bit puffy and reddened - never lowered, nor wavered. "But this is something that needed to happen, I think."

Drake nodded. "I agree." The man moved forward, opening his arms in an inviting gesture, and Angela reciprocated the hug, placing her chin on his shoulder and letting out a liquid sigh in his ear.

"It will be so hard not having you around, Drake," she whispered. "You helped us so much, these past few months... you basically saved us."

Drake couldn't help but blush a bit at those words. "Nah, you know that's not true! We just helped each other, that's all... the strength we needed has always been inside of us."

The young woman let Drake go and fixed the scarf around her neck, showing the purple discoloration on her skin for just a moment. "You know... I think you may be right," she conceded with a smile. Patrick, who was standing next to her with his ubiquitous notebook tucked under one of his armpits, started signing at her; he, too, looked very close to tears. "Patrick says that he is going to miss you incredibly and to please write to him whenever you can." Another short sequence of signs. "And send photos, too."

The big werewolf tried his best to smile, but the sad flutter of his broken heart was nearly enough to make Drake reconsider his decision; with trembling hands, Patrick opened his notebook and tried to write something, but his pen slipped from his fingers and fell on the ground. His dark eyes stared at the cylinder of colorful plastic partially hidden by the grass with an air of desolation on his face, as if all hope was lost now.

Drake gently touched Patrick's furry arm and shook his head with a tender expression. [i]It's okay[/i], he thought, hoping that his heartbeat would be enough to convey his feelings, before he realized that was something else he could do. He raised his hand until it was at the same height of Patrick's eyes and with a slow, deliberate movement lowered his middle and ring fingers, his pinky and index proudly pointing at the sky, his thumb outstretched. [i]I love you[/i], the gesture said.

Before he could even realize it, Drake was enveloped by Patrick's massive arms and pulled into a hug that threatened to squeeze all the air out of his lungs; tears streamed down the burly face of the big werewolf as loud, bellowing sobs echoed in Drake's ears. Once the initial shock of being picked up and squashed like that had passed, Drake caressed Patrick's beard with gentle fingertips, before leaning into a kiss. Eyes closed, tongues massaging each other, forehead touching: that gesture was the perfect summation of friendship, physical attraction, libido and love, so much so that Drake had to actively force his body not to shift into his wolfman form.

It took him a while, but Patrick finally let him go, but not before he had exhaled one last melancholic sigh; the big guy brushed his reddened eyes with the back of one of his furry hands, then raised his pinky and index fingers in a gesture that mirrored Drake's. [i]I love you too[/i].

Drake nodded. [i]I know, buddy. I know[/i], he thought with a smile as a painful knot squeezed his throat; it was hard to say goodbye to all of his pack members, so hard his chest felt like it was splitting in two uneven jagged sides... but it was even more difficult to part ways with Patrick. He was their rock, he was their heart; for as long as the two of them were going to be apart, there would definitely be something missing inside Drake's soul.

"Come on, big bro! Cheer up!" a cocky, devil-may-care voice ripped through the veil of Drake's sadness. "Wyatt's right! This is not a farewell." Chance's attitude - arms crossed over his beloved leather jacket, dark eyes focused, a big grin plastered on his boyish handsome face - wasn't entirely genuine, and both he and Drake knew that; Chance was sad, just like each and every one of them was. His heart was bleeding - Drake could hear it, blasting against the boy's ribcage, hurting itself ever so slightly with every beat - but his face and his demeanor showed none of that, and Drake felt almost compelled to smile back.

[i]He's not doing it because he thinks it's unmanly or uncool to cry[/i], the new alpha realized. [i]He wants to make me feel better. He wants to make everyone feel better, even if he's hurting. We know it's just pretend, because we can hear his heartbeat and we can smell the sadness from his skin, but... maybe, if we all believe in that lie enough, it will become at least a bit true?[/i] "I'm not your big bro anymore," Drake replied. "I'm just, you know... your bro. You've grown too, Chance. I may be an alpha, but I'm your equal in every way; and one day you will become an amazing pack leader too, I'm sure of that."

Receiving all that praise came dangerously close to cracking the mask worn by Chance beyond repair; he somehow managed to endure the blow, but it took him some seconds before he started talking again, and even when he did, his voice wavered a little. "Well... thanks, bro! And yeah... I'm sure that one day, I'll be an alpha too!" he added, his grin widening. He raised his fist, and Drake bumped his own against it, knuckles scraping against knuckles.

[i]Who knows[/i], Drake thought, looking at his packmate with obvious pride. [i]Maybe you are one already. Maybe all of us are, in a way... being an alpha is basically a state of mind, after all.[/i]

"I'm... I'm s-sorry..." Kaylee was a bit of a mess, just like Patrick... well, a lot more than that, since her cheeks and face were basically caked with tears, runny eyeliner and even some snot. "I didn't want to cry, but... this is so sad..."

Drake bit his lip and opened his arms, looking at the girl with watery eyes. "I know... come here now."

Kaylee melted in the hug, her slender body leaning against Drake's well-built physique for support, her left ear on his chest, right where his heart was - but, the man noted, she still tried her best not to press her dirty cheeks on his jacket - her eyes closed. With a timid, careful gesture, Drake caressed her hair, his fingers playing with every section of her braid.

"You know... I wrote the final chapter of my story, yesterday," Kaylee murmured.

"Oh! You did?" It felt like ages since she had mentioned her magnum opus. "Congratulations! You've been writing that one since forever, right?"

A tiny smile appeared on Kaylee's lips. "Yeah... but I felt like it was about time to put an end on it and, you know... move to something else. Might be even something better, who knows?" Her eyes opened and looked upwards at Drake, as her smile turned into the cutest playful smirk, despite the tears still streaming down her face. "Not to brag but I think I've been improving my skills recently."

[i]Maybe she never tried to become better because Wyatt believed werewolves cannot have an artistic side?[/i], Drake pondered as he reminisced about the portrait Kaylee had drawn for her late great-grandpa. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realize that the girl was rummaging through the leather bag that had previously rested next to her feet.

"That's why I want to give you..." Kaylee pulled out a single sheet of drawing paper inside a clear plastic sleeve and gave it to Drake. "This," she finished with another smile that was in equal parts joyous and sad.

"There's... nothing on it?" Drake muttered back, his brow furrowed.

A pained groan escaped from Kylie's mouth, although she also clearly had to stifle a chuckle. "God, Drake, you're such a himbo... it's a piece of paper, you can turn it around, you know?"

[i]Himbo? What does she mean by...,[/i] Drake asked himself as he flipped the sheet, but whatever thought his brain was trying to formulate instantly dissipated.

It was them, all of them. Eight people standing one next to the other, as if they were taking a group photo, their faces, bodies and clothes carefully traced and shaded in pencil; eight smiles beaming at him, eight pairs of eyes staring back. Sure, the proportions weren't always perfect, the technique was a bit amateurish and Drake's black and white counterpart had a pretty wooden and stilted pose, as if his head was resting on top of a cheap mannequin; and yet...

Drake felt relief when a couple of his tears hit the plastic sleeve instead of ruining the drawing. [i]It's beautiful[/i], he thought, simply. [i]Like, it's not great, maybe it's not even good, but... it's perfect[/i]. "I... don't know what to say..." he murmured.

Kaylee chuckled, anxious. "I mean, you don't have to take it with you. Hell, if you don't like it you can even toss it away or..."

"No, no! I..." The man tried to gulp, but the knot inside his throat was tighter than ever. "I'm so proud of you, Kaylee. Whatever you want to do or to be from now on... I'm sure you can do it. You have enough determination to succeed. And this..." Drake caressed the drawing through the plastic sheet, his fingertips lovingly rubbing Wyatt's face and smug grin. "I'll take it with me whenever I go, I promise. It will be like having all of you with me at all times."

The girl sniffed, tears once again streaming down her round cheeks. "Y-you really needed to m-make me cry again, huh?" she stuttered, even though she was still smiling.

"It's very good, you know." Inori and Leonardo had appeared next to Drake, and they were staring at the drawing in his hands; the girl was nodding, while the boy's brow was furrowed as if he was deep into thoughts. "Granted, I don't know much about art and this kind of stuff," Inori resumed. "But I like it a lot. It's very easy to understand who is who, which is definitely a plus." As always, it was pretty much impossible to understand if she was joking or if she was a hundred percent honest.

Drake turned to face the two most recent additions to the pack, his soul as heavy as a boulder. [i]I don't know how this is going to end, but someone is definitely going to suffer[/i], he thought. "Hey, so... you know you don't actually have to come with me if you are not sure. Like, this is me going on a soul-searching trip, basically..."

Leo smirked at that. He was wearing a black jacket over a grey camo shirt, his pale hair were tucked under a beanie hat, and his feet were clad in black tall boots; he looked more than ready to go on an adventure. "Yeah, sorry, man... you are not going to get rid of me that easily." Since the accident involving Wyatt, the boy had picked up a bit more bravado, even though his temper was still quiet and melancholic most of the time. He even managed to put a cocky smile on his scarred face. "You saved my life, and changed it forever. You are my alpha, and nothing is gonna make me believe otherwise... so of course I'm coming with you. It's not like you can be an alpha without a pack."

"Exactly," Inori echoed. It was a bit weird seeing her wearing something that wasn't white or flowy, but she looked very mature in her red cardigan, her light pink shirt underneath and her simple pleated skirt, and with her long jet black hair tied into a high ponytail; the fact that since she had been rescued from her previous pack she had grown at least a foot in height and now looked like a young woman instead of an [i]onryo[/i] out of a Japanese horror movie definitely helped. "And in order to have a proper pack, you need at least three werewolves. I mean, it's common knowledge." She nodded, but it was clear - from the irregular, thunderous sound of her heartbeat - that she was feeling conflicted. "In my case, it was both you and Wyatt who saved me, but without you and me fighting, things would have definitely gone in a much different way, so... I feel like I owe you something." A brief moment of silence. "And regardless, I have always wanted to travel and see the world."

"Then you should go," Wyatt ruffled her hair with tender fingers. "And when you are back, you'll tell me everything you have seen, and whether or not the full moon shines the same way." His chestnut eyes - reddened and wet but still so, so intense - focused on Drake, and his lips quivered for a moment. "So... it's time, huh?"

Drake nodded back. "Yeah... it's time," he croaked through the knot in his throat strangling his vocal chords. But was it? Was it really? [i]Maybe I don't have to leave[/i], he thought, his fingers fidgeting with Kaylee's drawing. [i]Maybe we can just stay here, where we are happy, and wild, and together, and...[/i]

"No." The two letters echoed in the glade like a rifle shot. "I know what you are thinking, Drake," Wyatt went on as his irises shifted to molten gold, pinning the other werewolf on the spot. "And don't you dare."

[i]He's right[/i], Drake thought. [i]That would be the choice of a coward, and I'm not a coward. Not anymore, at least[/i]. "I won't," he reassured the other. "But it's... so hard, Wyatt."

"As it should be," the other replied, his voice wavering. "If I didn't feel like my heart was getting ripped out of my chest, I would think there was something wrong with me..." The alpha tried to laugh, and even succeeded for a moment, before his face collapsed into a mask of absolute sorrow and long, wistful sighs started escaping from his lips. "Fuck... it is hard..." he murmured.

Drake nodded. "And I think it will become... even harder, the more we wait," he said as he hugged Wyatt. [i]I'm gonna miss you[/i], he thought as his hands caressed his boyfriend's well-muscled back. [i]I'll miss running through the woods with you and all the others, I'll miss cuddling as wolves under the full moon, I'll miss hearing you play the piano in the living room, I'll miss you waking up in the morning and having you close... and most of all, I'll miss the fact that you made me feel like I was the most special and interesting and amazing person. It's only thanks to you if I am who I am today[/i]. The man caressed the head of his boyfriend, who was quietly sobbing against his chest; he bit his lower lip with pointy fangs, drawing a droplet of blood, like a tiny, precious ruby. [i]Maybe it won't be long before we meet each other again. I'm sure we'll both know, deep inside of us, when it's time for me to come back... but for now, I have to go. Even if it hurts me. Even if it kills me inside[/i].

[i]Farewell, my summer[/i].

They didn't say anything else, because there was no real need to: the two just looked at each other - smiling through their tears - nodded once and then turned around, walking in opposite directions, one towards his hometown, the other towards an uncertain, but hopeful future.

Neither of them glanced back, not even once.

As Drake carefully put the gift Kaylee had given him inside his backpack, he noticed something scribbled in one of the corners of the sheet of paper, something that Kaylee herself probably didn't realize she had written. "[i]There's a hole in the floor at the bottom of the world[/i]". The ominous sentence from her dreams. [i]I don't know what's going to happen from now on[/i], Drake thought as he walked through the forest towards the road heading out Cerulean Falls and the nearest bus station. [i]Maybe everything will be alright, or maybe it won't. Maybe there really is a hole in the floor at the bottom of the world, wherever that might be... and maybe I'll fall into it headfirst, and that will be the end of this whole ordeal. But...,[/i] He turned to his sides at the girl and the boy walking alongside him, and despite the tears still streaking his bearded cheeks, he couldn't help but smile proudly at the two. [i]But I won't be alone. However things may turn out to be, I'll have someone to face them with. I'll have my pack, and that's what matters.[/i]

"So..." Inori muttered, looking up at him with a curious look in her dark eyes. "Where should we go first?"

Drake's grin widened. "Wherever we want, Inori. Wherever we want."

[i][The end][/i]