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

You can find his profile and awesome stories here: leo-todrius.sofurry.com

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Lykos - Wild Things

Chapter 03 - The sound of Summer running

"So... I was wondering," Drake asked Wyatt. "How long do we plan to stand outside your bedroom door without going inside?" He could hear people chatting and laughing, even through the thick wooden door in front of him.

Wyatt looked at him with a friendly smile; the points of his wolf fangs protruding from under his upper lip gave him an impish air. "I just want to make sure that everything is alright with you. I mean, after what we... I mean, what I did in the bathroom." He scratched the back of his head with a rapid movement of his hand, like a flea-infested dog. "I want to try and be less impulsive... and I want to help you getting used to all this in the smoothest way possible."

Drake ruffled Wyatt's unruly hair. "That I appreciate," he said, nodding, his freshly-made ponytail bobbing against his shoulders. When the two of them had come out of the bathroom, Cordelia had just put a small black scrunchie in his hands without saying anything. God, that woman is scary, he thought, an intense shiver pinning him to the floor.

"Meeting new packmates can be quite an intense experience," Wyatt continued. "So... whenever you feel ready, okay?"

Drake sighed. "Well... As long as they aren't all like your mother and sisters..."

"Of course not," Wyatt replied. "Two of them are male."

"That's not what I meant."

"Huh? And what do you mean, then?"

Drake started fidgeting nervously with his ponytail. "W-well, you know, your mother is scary, and your little sister is very creepy... And the less we talk about Talia, the better..."

Wyatt stared at the young man next to him with narrow and menacing golden eyes. "Yeah, maybe they are scary and creepy, but they are my family, so please measure your words. Well, except with Talia, you can insult her all you want for all I care."

"Why are you so angry with her?" Drake asked.

"You really want to know?" In the span of a second, Wyatt had gone from mildly angry to doubtful and nervous.

Drake smiled at him. "I want to know everything about you, Wyatt."

The werewolf nodded; he looked relieved and grateful, even if he was trying his best to hide that. "Okay, then... But not right now. After you've met the others."

"Wanna introduce me?" Drake replied, grabbing the door handle. Then, without any further ado, he opened the door.

The room fell into silence, as four pair of eyes shifted towards Wyatt and Drake the moment the two of them stepped inside. "Is that...?", a boy with olive skin, a mane of unruly dreadlocks and a studded leather jacket asked. He sounded curious and a bit confused as his deep chocolate irises inspected the newcomer.

Wyatt grinned, as usual. "Guys, this is your new packmate, Drake".

Before he could even finish the sentence, Drake had already been thrown on the floor, two young bodies squealing in delight pinning him on the ground. "Awww, Wyatt, where did you find him?", a girl with decidedly Asian features and long, luscious hair combed in a braid exclaimed, looking at Drake with one of the most luminous smiles he had ever seen, her head slightly tilted to the side. She then proceeded to lick him on the nose once, before exploding in a small, cheerful laughter. "Hehe, he's lovable".

"Move, Kaylee, I want to give him a try", the boy in the leather jacket pushed the girl aside, before - without any further warming - kissing him deeply on the lips, his tongue snaking inside Drake's mouth, caressing his teeth and searching for the moist, warm touch of its twin. Drake, after a brief moment of bewilderment, reciprocated the kiss as if that was the most natural thing to do... because, in that moment, it really was. Even if he had met the boy less than thirty seconds before and he didn't know his name, Drake could feel the tight, scarlet bond that linked him to Wyatt, and consequently to himself... And it was warm, pleasurable and comforting like that kiss.

Ultimately, though, their lips parted; the dreadlocked boy exhaled a long, satisfied breath and licked his lips, as if to savor the last remnants of the kiss. "You taste familiar," he declared. "I like that."

Drake remembered licking Wyatt's blood from the wound of his wrist and tried not to grimace. "Um... Thanks?" he replied, giving the boy a small smile.

He then felt someone tapping on his shoulder, and when he turned around he saw that the Asian girl had produced a sketchbook and a pencil from who-knew-where and was staring at the two of them with a rapturous and predatory expression in her eyes. "Can you... do that again?" she quivered. "Only slower, I need some time to draw it properly." She looked so excited and ecstatic Drake thought she was going to drool all over her drawing book.

Drake lifted his eyes: Wyatt was staring down at him with a huge grin plastered on his lips. "U-um, a little help would be appreciated..." he said.

"You mean you're not having fun?" was the cheerful reply. "Because I totally am."

Luckily for Drake, someone came to his rescue: a husky, low-pitched female voice with a gentle yet very firm tone started scolding the two assailants. "Kaylee, Chance, stop pestering the newcomer. Let him breathe."

"Okay..." the two murmured as one, sitting back on a small sofa with a half-disappointed, half-apologetic look on their faces.

A hand was stretched towards Drake, to help him get back on his feet. "I'm sorry, they tend to be a little too impetuous. I hope you can forgive them." The girl in front of him was beautiful and charming in an almost melancholic way, like the subject of a Romantic portrait: she was letting her wavy, silky auburn hair loose on her shoulders and back like a cascade of autumn leaves, perfectly complimenting her pale skin. Her eyes were big and expressive, of a shade of azure so pale they looked almost white; she was nearly as tall as he was, and she was wearing a long, black and white striped scarf around her neck. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Angela," she said, with a slow, shy smile that made her face shine discreetly, like an October sunset.

"Drake," he replied, still holding onto her hand. She had a very solid grasp.

"I may be the alpha, but Angie here is the pack mom," Wyatt explained. "She's the best when it comes to keep those two in check," and he tilted his head towards Chance and Kaylee, who were looking at him with puppy eyes.

Angela shook her head. "As always, you are too kind, my alpha," she replied in a demure tone.

Meanwhile, the sixth person in the room still hadn't said a single word: he was just sitting on the edge of Wyatt's bed, watching the others with a peaceful expression over his face. He was one of the biggest and burliest guys Drake had ever seen in his life, with a full, bushy brown beard and fingers as thick as cigars; even if there was a sizeable amount of fat on his belly, he was built like a powerhouse and projected an aura of quiet strength all around him. He was, in other words, one of those hard-to-find people who - despite being huge and muscled - always had the gentlest, kindest and most compassionate look in their eyes. He's a rock, thought Drake, holding out his hand. No, he's a mountain. "I'm Drake, nice to meet you."

The huge young man squeezed Drake's hand with his own in complete silence, just nodding and smiling. Then he turned to look at Angela, and started tracing a series of quick gestures in the air with his large but unexpectedly agile fingers. "Patrick said: 'Nice to meet you, Drake. My name is Patrick. I hope we'll get along'," the girl then translated for him.

Drake, his eyes wide, switched back and forth from Angela - who had a submissive, almost apologetic look on her face - and Patrick, who was still beaming him a friendly smile. He finally focused on the girl. "I... Can you tell him..." he started, before a small, discreet coughing interrupted him.

Patrick started gesturing again. "'I can read lips quite well, so you can talk to me directly if you want to. And in case Angela is not around, I have this'," and he pointed at a sketchbook next to him, not unlike the one owned by Kaylee.

Drake nodded, very slowly. "It's just that, well... I thought that a werewolf bite would've, you know... cured that."

Patrick's smile didn't waver a bit; he grabbed his notebook and a pencil and started scribbling, in a large but quite elegant handwriting. Indeed, the curse can be a blessing, but it's not a panacea. Although, even if becoming a werewolf didn't restore my hearing, it gave me the chance to experience things I would have never imagined.

Drake smirked. I bet his other senses even sharper than mine... Or is he talking about the sex? "Like what, for example?"

Patrick got up on his feet, towering over him with his six feet five inches; for a moment, Drake thought with a sudden shiver that the giant was going to punch him, but what he did was the exact opposite: he wrapped his massive arms around his body, embracing him in the gentlest hug Drake had ever experienced; it was like being held tight by a multitude of people at once, and for a moment, it was exactly that. Drake, that morning, had thought that the bond between him and his alpha was akin to feeling two sets of heartbeats instead of one, but now he could feel them resonating clearly in his ears, in his chest and in his soul: the hearts of Patrick, of Angela, of Chance, of Kaylee, of Wyatt and his own, sharing the same rhythm in a deep, soothing, reassuring hum.

The giant broke up the hug and sit back on the bed. Like that, he wrote in his notebook.

Drake stood there in silence for a couple of seconds. "That... that was..." he whispered, even though the words were escaping him.

Patrick gave him a small, soft smile. Exactly.

A minute later, Drake was sitting on a bean bag next to Wyatt's bed; everyone in the room was looking at him with encouraging expressions while the alpha was making the giving him some explanations. "You see, Angela, Kaylee and Chance were born as wolves, just like me: many families around here have been lycanthropes for generations. Patrick, on the other hand, was born as a human just like you; he accidentally discovered Angela's secret when she was taking her sign language course, so we gave him the same choice I gave you."

And of course I said yes, Patrick scribbled on his notebook. Even though it's kind of obvious.

Drake frowned. "So... does that mean that the four of you have known each other since you were kids?" he said, looking at Wyatt, Angela, Chance and Kaylee.

The boy in the leather jacket nodded. "Yep. We were in the same pack and, well..." he hesitated and looked at Wyatt, as if he was unsure of what he could or could not say and was asking for confirmation.

Were?, Drake thought. But they still are in the same pack. And then he got it. "You mean you were all part of Talia's pack?"

Angela sighed. "Yes. Yes, we were." The young woman looked even sadder and more anguished than before.

This is clearly an uncomfortable topic, Drake pondered, his eyes darting across the room. And still I feel like I have to know the reason why. He quickly went through all the possible explanation for the behaviour of his new packmates, until a hypothesis bloomed in his mind, a flower too embarrassing and private to be plucked.

"Why the strange face?" Wyatt asked, perceptive as always.

Drake felt his cheeks and ears becoming scarlet. "I... I was j-just wondering..." he stuttered.

The alpha werewolf looked back at him with a funny look in his eyes. "Go on."

"W-well, I was trying to understand the reason why you left Talia's pack and, um..." he fell silent for a couple of seconds. "I mean, you were her beta and she was your alpha, right?"

And there it was again, the wild, dangerous grin on Wyatt's face. "So you want to know if I have ever been fucked by my sister?"

Kaylee burst in a fit of hysterical laughter, her hands clutched around her sketchbook; Chance was still looking at the floor with a sheepish smile on his face, and Patrick had put his huge arm around Angela's shoulders. Drake bit his under lip; he was feeling awful, especially because his question was clearly bothering everyone. "I wasn't..."

"No, we never did... that," Wyatt interrupted him, his cheerfulness sounding too over-the-top to be genuine. "Incest is a big no-no in my book. And besides, sex is just but one of the many ways an alpha can assert their dominance." The werewolf looked at his newest beta, his embitterment betrayed by the curve of his lips. "I guess you want to know what she did to keep me in line. Well, the answer is simple... She used to beat the ever living crap out of me, since I had been old enough to be part of her pack. At first, I didn't care that much; in a way, I was even happy to be thrashed by her: after all, I was her beta and she was my alpha, and what an alpha she was! I may hate her now, Drake, but believe me when I say that my sister doesn't just look strong, she is strong: she is brutal, she is fierce and what's worse she's always completely in control... you could say she carries around her wolf on a fucking leash".

Wyatt shook his head, his bronze earring tinkling. "You see, I didn't like her, but at least I respected her: she was strong and I was weak, so it only seemed natural for me to be beaten; and because I was her favorite punching ball, no one else would've ever dared to lay even a claw over me. But then one night, during a full moon, I suddenly realized something: I wasn't the only one suffering because of Talia." He looked at Chance and Kaylee, who in turn stared back at him with fond, adoring eyes. "Those two were the youngest of the pack at the time, and everyone was treating them like dirt. They were scared, lost and alone, without someone to guide them. As for Angie, well..." Wyatt glanced at her, as if he was asking for her permission to go on.

The young woman nodded, a simple gesture that cost her a lot, at least judging from the expression on her face. "I was the omega," she murmured, in a quiet, distant tone. "The pack bitch." She fell silent, but there was no need to add anything else.

"That's... awful," Drake replied, fully conscious that 'awful' didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling on the matter. "But why didn't you just leave the pack? How could you tolerate all that?"

The four looked at each other with guilty eyes. "It's not that easy, Drake," Wyatt replied. "We wolves are gregarious creatures: we are naturally drawn to each other, we feel the need to establish bonds, and when we are part of a pack...we feel complete. At peace. It's not like lone wolves don't exist, of course, but the majority of us simply cannot live without packmates. The thought itself would be unbearable." He sighed. "So, even if your pack is brutal and unforgiving, the mere idea of leaving it can be too painful and scary... Unless, of course, there's a better option."

"You see, the way a pact acts is determined by the will of their alpha, and because Talia valued strength above all else, it made perfect sense for the weakest of the bunch to be also the lowest on the food chain." At that point, however, a small smile dawned again on Wyatt's face. "But that night, for some reason, a weird, foreign thought made its way into my brain: what if there was another way? A way for me, Angela, Chance and Kaylee to be weak, to be free, to be wild, to be happy... a way to be together? Even now, I still don't know if that was my wolf whispering in my ear, or if I had simply passed the point of no return, but I did the only thing that seemed right in that moment: I challenged my sister in a duel."

"I'll never forget that night, as long as I live," Kaylee said in a dreamy tone.

"Yeah, it was incredible!" Chance added.

Wyatt smiled at them, before going back to his tale. "She couldn't say no, of course: any beta has the right to challenge their alpha for their status, if they feel so inclined. We fought for hours, chasing each other through the woods restlessly, until the sun rose. I didn't manage to defeat her, obviously, so I couldn't become the new alpha of her pack... But she couldn't defeat me either, and so she was forced to give me the most precious thing I own: my freedom." He lowered his head in a small bow. "And that's the story of how our pack came to be... or at least the story of how the rivalry with my older sister was born, I guess."

"You may say so, but I know the truth," Angela said, smiling at him... And this time, it was a genuine expression of affection and gratitude. "You did it for us, my alpha. You gave us a place where we can be ourselves, without fear of being weak, without fear of being scared... without fear of being used," her gaze became unfocused for a moment, but she didn't let herself sink in the abyss of her memories. "This is the reason why I'll always consider you my one and only alpha."

Drake was looking at the scene in front of his eyes with his mouth open in wonder. So that's what it means, being a beta: having an unshakable trust in your alpha, loving him deeply and being loved in return... I wonder if I will ever be able to be like that? He got up and took a sudden step forward, hugging Wyatt. "Who would've thought you really were that cool?", he asked, in a joking tone.

The werewolf looked at him with a smile full of pointy fangs. "You mean you doubted my awesomeness?"

"Group hug!" Chance shouted, and Drake felt the slick leather of his jacket pressing against his body. Kaylee joined them, then Angela, and finally even Patrick, who almost managed to encircle them all with his massive arms. For some long, quiet minutes they just stood there in the middle of the room in complete silence, their eyes closed; they were experiencing the same sensation Drake and Patrick had felt when they had embraced each other, but multiplied tenfold: six hearts beating as one, six breaths being exhaled at the same time, six bodies sharing the same warmth.

For the first time since he had been lost in the woods, Drake was feeling home. Even if they don't know me, even if they've met me today for the first time, they have accepted me as one of them... completely, without doubts or questions, he was thinking with a satisfied smile on his face, his bearded chin resting against Wyatt's head. This feeling of peace, of completion, of belonging... They are right: now that I know it, I never, ever want to let it go, no matter what. He had finally come to the realization of what a pack was, of what they were right now: a small, strange, tight bundle of happiness.

And then the hug was over. But the bond remained.

Ten minutes later, when the six of them were chatting and laughing like they had been friends with Drake for years, Kaylee's eyes blazed of golden fire all of a sudden. "Oh, I almost forgot!" she exclaimed, like pulling out from her sketchbook several pages covered in small, tight handwriting. "I've finished the fifty-seventh chapter of 'The secrets of Echo Creek'! You totally have to give me some feedback, Angie!"

"Isn't that what I always do?" Angela replied with a gentle yet resigned smile.

"'The secrets of Echo Creek'?" Drake repeated. He was sitting on the floor and enjoying a hair-scratching session from Wyatt, who was lying on the bed just behind him.

"Echo Creek is a small town in Colorado," the alpha replied. "There's an all-male college there, with a large werewolf population; even my father used to study there when he was young. Kaylee is... kind of obsessed with that place."

"Kind of obsessed?" Chance repeated, his bushy right eyebrow raised. "More like completely nuts. And what's worse, she writes porn about it."

"Hey, it's not porn! It's a fanfiction!" Kaylee specified in a huff. "And really, that place must be like a earthly paradise! Can you imagine hundreds of sexy werewolves loving each other in secret and having forbidden relations with young, innocent humans? Just think of the passion, the drama, the angst!" She was so excited her expression was almost disturbing to look at.

"Come on, Chance, at least it's better than when she used to write those threesomes starring me, you and Patrick," Wyatt mused.

Should she ever ask you to proofread something, smile and then run away as fast as you can, Patrick wrote on his notebook. Angie is the only one who is patient enough to somehow put up with her stories.

"Please, at least tell me there won't be another male pregnancy subplot..." Angela was groaning in that very same moment while browsing through the chapter.

"Um... Maybe?"

"Well, she's doing it for the pack," Wyatt said. "It's not like Kaylee can post what she writes on the Internet, I mean."

"Yeah, I guess there's no real audience for stories about gay werewolves," Drake joked.

Wyatt pursed his lips. "I was thinking more about werewolf hunters."

"Werewolf hunters?!" Drake replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Angela clutching her scarf with her hand, an alarmed expression in her melancholic eyes.

"Yes, they exist. They usually target direwolves since they are those who, you know, kill people... But from their point of view, we are all horrible monsters who deserve to die. No exceptions."

"Yeah, but... why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'? It's because we are different, of course; for them, that's a good enough reason... After all, there's a ton of stupid people out there."

Luckily, the topic of the conversation then shifted to something else, and the six packmates started laughing and joking again... Until the door of the bedroom opened as if it was suddenly alive, with Cordelia standing right behind. "Dinner's almost ready," she informed Wyatt and Drake, before disappearing in complete silence.

Angela got up on her feet. "Well, time to go now." Chance and Kaylee grumbled a bit, but the auburn-haired young woman pushed them gently outside the room. "Haven't you heard aunt Delia? Let's go, Patrick."

Drake, however, grabbed the sleeve of the bearded giant's shirt on a sudden whim. "Um, Patrick, can I... ask you a question?"

Angela looked quizzically at the two of them, but after a couple of quick gestures from Patrick she just nodded. "Come on, Wyatt, show us the way out," she said to the alpha werewolf.

"Hey, it's not like it's in a different place now..." he muttered, but followed her nonetheless.

So? What did you want to ask me?, Patrick wrote on his notebook, an encouraging smile on his broad face.

Drake sighed. "Well... Of all the members of our pack, you're the only one except for me who was born as a human." The giant nodded. "And when you discovered Angela's secret, they gave you the same choice they gave to me, I presume." He nodded again. "So, my question is... Have you ever regretted choosing the bite?"

Patrick raised a huge hand and ruffled Drake's hair in a gentle, affectionate gesture. They gave me the chance to howl, it was written on his notebook. How could I ever possibly regret something like that?

* * * *

Wyatt closed the door of his bedroom behind him and went sitting on the edge of his bed, where Drake was already waiting for him. "So? What did you think of my cute little pack?" he asked.

The late summer night was falling fast on the world outside, and because no light was on in the room, the darkness was seeping through the window, claiming the silhouettes of the furniture and building its nests of shadows in the corners. "The are like a family," Drake replied; and really, there was no other way for him to describe the attachment he was feeling towards them. When Wyatt had told him in the woods that he loved him, Drake had been taken aback by the suddenness of such a confession, but now he was sure Wyatt had been totally honest: the wolf inside him had just relied on his instincts, no human doubt clouding his judgement. "They seem to respect you very much."

Wyatt scratched the back of his head; all of a sudden, he looked embarrassed. "Yeah, that's why I try my best to be a good alpha for them, even if it's not always easy. But I mean, have you seen them? How could I possibly let them down?"

"I... I wonder if I'll be as good a packmate as they are," Drake muttered in a voice full of doubts.

Wyatt, in reply, grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him down gently, until Drake's head rested on his legs. "Dude, what are you talking about? You already are a wonderful packmate! You are passionate, you are kind, you are honest... not to mention quite hot."

Drake sighed. "If I'm that good, why doesn't my wolf even want to come out, then?"

Wyatt caressed the stubble oh his cheeks with the back of his hand; his skin was cool, and Drake shivered in pleasure. "I thought you wanted to wait until he was ready."

"Well, yeah... that was before meeting the others, though. They treated me exactly like I was one of them, but... right now, who am I? I'm not a human anymore, and still I'm not a werewolf yet."

Even in the ever thickening darkness, Drake could see a gentle smile appearing on Wyatt's face. "Wanna know who you are? You're the most splendid beta an alpha could hope for, and nothing can change that. Although, if you really want to get in touch with the wolf so bad... I think I can help."

Drake grimaced. "I hope it's not the same kind of 'help' you gave me in the bathroom, 'cause right now I'm not in the mood for that."

"Nah, I'll simply try to make you relax. It's kinda like meditation."

"And why exactly didn't we try that first?"

"'cause sex is more fun?"

"...well, can't argue with that." Drake sighed, closing his eyes. "So? What do I have to do?"

"First, you have to take a sip from this," Wyatt stretched his arm and grabbed a small plastic thermos from his night stand. He opened it and poured some dark liquid in the cap, using it as a glass of sorts, before presenting it to Drake. "I must warn you, it will be like drinking from an old hobo's shoe. That old bat is convinced that adding sugar to this thing lessens its effects."

"Old bat?" Drake repeated. The smell rising from the fluid was indeed quite disgusting, making him turn up his nose.

Wyatt grimaced. "Yeah, the pack's head Keeper. You'll meet her soon enough... and then you'll wish you'd never seen her. She's a witch, and not only because she's good with potions."

Drake drank from the screw cap: the liquid was bitter and acrid, its taste so foul he could feel his tongue burning for a moment. "I bet this is what licking a train seat feels like..." he whispered in revulsion. "What's in there?"

"Lotus, for the most part," Wyatt explained. "I'm pretty sure the other herbs she uses are just in there for the shitty taste." He corked the thermos and looked expectantly at Drake. "So? Is it working? Feeling more relaxed?"

"Huh?" Drake replied in a daze. Suddenly, it was like time had started passing a bit slower than the usual. "Y-yeah... I think."

"Well, she's a horrible, horrible person, but at least she's the best in what she does." Wyatt took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Now, for the next step... remember how you felt when we were hugging you? Try to recall that sensation. Focus on my heartbeat, on my body, on the rhythm of my breath."

"Okay," Drake replied. He tried to cut off all those stimuli that weren't related to Wyatt, instead concentrating on the hand still delicately caressing the side of his face, on the sound of the slow, tranquil breathing, on the low but perfectly clear pounding of Wyatt's heart. On the blood-red bond linking them as humans and - hopefully - as wolves, too. I have to empty my mind, he said to himself. Get rid of the distractions and the doubts that are chaining me down. After an indeterminate amount of time - maybe some seconds, maybe half an hour - he stopped thinking altogether, his mind hovering over the verge between consciousness and dreaming.

Against the dark screen of Drake's eyelids, he could see a deep, gigantic swirl that rotated following the same rhythm of Wyatt's heartbeat; and, coming from the inside that black hole, countless images kept emerging, disappearing and coalesce into each other, some of them nothing more than whiffs of smoke, some others crystal clear: packs of dark wolves running under the moonlight their howls creating a feral, terrible symphony; naked men with black hair and brown skin dancing wildly, their bodies covered in intricate tribal paintings; a flash of silver and a spurt of blood against white fur; a huge, terrifying pair of golden irises...

Drake opened his eyes. The first thing he realized was that he was naked, except for a leather necklace that he had never seen before, adorned with a single wolf claw.

The second thing he realized was that he was surrounded by complete whiteness: he was standing under a huge, impossibly tall, ever-extending dome made out of an immaculate, warm matter that felt like living stone under his bare feet.

The third thing he realized was that the ferocious, enormous golden eyes of his vision were still looking at him.

The beast in front of Drake was so huge it could've easily swallowed him whole; its fangs glistened in the diffuse light emanated by the white substance, deadly and curved like scimitars, and its head was covered in a luscious, silky dark gray mane. Its front paws - that looked disturbingly similar to human hands - were tipped with onyx-tinged claws, thicker and longer than Drake's arms; the beast had a crouched stance, its back arched and covered in dense fur, its head lowered to look at the tiny feeble human in front of it in the eye. The majestic tail behind him looked like a dragon wing.

It was a colossal, frightening and mighty creature... and it was also strangely familiar. "A-are you... my wolf?" Drake managed to mutter after a while.

The beast just stared back at him, without changing its posture and without even blinking.

I really should do something for this tendency of mine of asking stupid questions..., the young man pondered. "It's just that I didn't think you were gonna be this, you know... huge." He gulped. "I hope I won't be as big as a minivan when I finally transform. 'cause I won't be that big, right?"

Again, no reaction.

And there goes stupid question number two... "So... Are we in my subconscious, huh?" he continued, glancing around at the uniform whiteness. "Pretty spacious, but why is it so empty?"

The wolf was still looking at him, its ears pointy and alert, its eyes blazing. Stop wasting our time, was the meaning of that stare. We have important things to discuss.

"Yeah... You're right," Drake did his best to stare back at the wolf without diverting his eyes. "I wanted to meet you," he admitted, his voice a little tense and unsteady. He extended a hand, as to caress the wolf on its awe-inspiring head, but his fingers stopped halfway. "But I was starting to think that you didn't want to meet me, that... that maybe you were thinking I wasn't strong or worthy enough for you."

The giant wolf leaned forward, his head coming to rest against the palm of Drake's outstretched hand. The young man opened his mouth in wonder: he could feel the soft fur under his fingers, the warmth of the beast's body and the powerful, fiery blood flowing just under his skin. Do not say foolish things, the golden eyes were saying. I am you, and you are me. You are as strong and worthy as I am.

Drake caressed the mane of his wolf for a while, marvelling at how real it felt, even if the whole thing was happening only inside his head. "But if I'm not the problem, then... Why didn't you want to come out?"

This time, there were no words in the eyes of the beast, as if the answer was already obvious, and even painfully so.

Drake felt a long, unpleasant shiver running up and down his spine, before focusing on the skin of his bare left shoulder. "You mean... Wyatt?" he asked in a whisper. "But he's the one who gave the two of us the chance to meet each other! He's... he's my alpha!". But the very moment he said those words, he could hear them waver in doubt.

You are fooling no one but yourself, the eyes of the wolf replied. His bite has awakened me, of course, but an alpha is supposed to be strong.

"How do you know he's not?" Drake asked.

How do you know he is?

"I... He..." The young man muttered. The black claw resting against his chest was starting to feel hot and tingly. "His packmates love and respect him, and he loves and respects them in return."

This is not what I asked, the eyes of the beast replied. Can he guide his packmates, as a true alpha should? Can he protect them from any threat that could endanger them? Can he defend his status in case someone challenges him?

Drake bit his lower lip. "I... don't know." For a moment, he lowered his eyes on the white matter all around him, but then he returned the gaze of the beast. "But I have faith in him."

The claw hanging from Drake's neck was burning as if it was trying to merge with his flesh. Let me put your faith to a test, then.

The wolf opened his eyes. He smiled, his irises blazing gold, a long tongue tracing the contours of the fangs rapidly extending in his mouth. With a quick, swift motion of his strong and expanding muscles he grabbed Wyatt and threw him on the ground. The slender boy let out a small, surprised yelp before hitting against the floor with his back, air escaping from his lungs with a sonorous puff.

The wolf jumped over Wyatt, pinning him to the ground, his mind lost in the pleasure of his very first change: his fingers covering with fur, the tips swelling into leathery paw pads, the fingernails coming to a point and extending into powerful, hard-as-diamond claws; his sideburns and beard on his face thickening, becoming bushier and manlier; his fur sprouting, spreading, covering the skin all over his body - especially on his chest and limbs - with a virile brown pelt; the hair on his head becoming longer and wilder, escaping the strict boundary of the scrunchie; his ears growing pointy and beast-like; his muscles starting to throb and feeling warmer and more powerful, stretching to t-shirt and pants he was wearing.

The most intense sensation, however, was of course the one spreading from his groin like an exhilarating blaze; a half-murmur, half-growl escaped from the wolf's lips when he felt his cock changing, fur growing all over the shaft and his foreskin expanding and reshaping; his mind enveloped in an ecstatic haze, the wolf focused on the tip of his dick becoming pointed and starting to protrude from his newly-formed sheath. He knew his shaft was now red, proud and slick, filled with blood and already dripping with clear precum; with supreme lust and desire betrayed by his gloriously golden irises, the wolf pictured himself flipping the frail boy under him and ripping off his clothes to reveal a tight tailhole. The mere thought of teasing the pucker with a clawed finger before sticking his hot, girthy, slimy dick in there, driving the other into complete submission, was so intense he started to drool.

The wolf looked down at his prey, hoping to see fear and trembling all over his face... but Wyatt's eyes were only filled with childish, innocent wonder, and just a tiny hint of malice. "Oh, I know that look,", he joked, a small grin on his completely human face. "Bet you want to do bad things with me, huh?"

The wolf bared his fangs in response, a deep and guttural growl rumbling in the back of his throat. Was the fake alpha really that stupid and delusional? His dangerous mouth lunged forward, biting Wyatt on his shoulder and letting a small torrent of blood spill over his ruined t-shirt and the wooden floor.

Instead of a scream of pain, however, the wolf felt the lithe arms of the fake alpha embracing him, massaging his muscled back with thin fingers. "I wanted to meet you so badly..." he whispered in the wolf's ear, his voice tinged with countless different shades, none of them having the dreary colors of hurt and fear. "You're even more wonderful than what I could ever imagine."

The wolf was confused: he had thought he would've been easy to break the weak, pathetic, fake alpha's will and to claim his rightful place... So what was happening to him, exactly? Why was he hesitating? His claws contracted in frustration, leaving marks in the tender flesh of Wyatt, causing more blood to flow... And yet, the look in his chestnut eyes behind his glasses was pure and untainted.

"Remember what I told you in the woods, when I offered you the bite?" Wyatt said. "All your pain, all your fear, all your hatred... I would've accepted them, but those of Drake the human and those of Drake the wolf. The frustration you're feeling, the anger penting up inside of you, the arousal, the desire, the good and the bad thoughts crowding your brain, and all the feelings filling your heart and soul to the brim... feel free to give them to me. I'll accept everything."

And so the wolf growled at him, snapped at him, snarled at him, threatened him with his claws and fangs, hurt him and showed him his fury, his strength and his resolve... and Wyatt just smiled in response, blood still gushing from his wounds. "Thank you," he whispered, a hand caressing the furry side of the face of the wolf. "Although, you should really drop the act, Drake."

The wolf looked at him in confusion.

"You know what I'm talking about, Drake: stop pretending you're not there. You are him, and he is you, remember?" Wyatt said, simply.

Drake exhaled an enraged breath through his bared fangs. "Let your wolf come out," he growled. "I want to know which of us is stronger."

Wyatt tilted his head. "Oh... Wanna challenge me? Interesting. Bet your wolf is saying that you can be an alpha, am I right?"

"Shut up and fight against me, Wyatt," Drake replied, his voice filled with power and fury. "And if I can defeat you, I'll become the alpha."

Wyatt's grin widened. "Yeah, you see, that's the point: if you can defeat me. I may be weak, but remember I'm also the one who drew my former alpha to a tie... And I can promise you this, Drake: even if I'm weak, I won't lose."

"And how can you be so sure of that?"

In a moment, the cheerful expression on Wyatt's boyish face reverted to the genuine, innocent smile. "Because I have something to protect. The bond we share, the freedom to be whoever we want to be, and that tiny flicker of happiness are the only good things I can give them... and you. So yeah, I'll gladly accept your challenge, too, because I'll accept everything about you; but as long as I live, I won't lose against anyone. No matter what."

He is completely honest about it, the wolf whispered in Drake's ear. Despite his size and his strength, he sounded surprised. No, it is not even a matter of honesty... It is like he knows he will not lose, somehow. And what is more, he is not afraid to die in the slightest. Drake could almost hear his wolf smirk. I think I can accept someone like him as our alpha... For the time being, at least. Drake stared at Wyatt while the rage inside him dissipated, evaporating like ice under the sun. "I... I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't want to hurt you... But I did anyway. Please, forgive me."

Wyatt sit on the floor and gestured at his ruined shoulder and claw punctures. "Oh, you mean this? Don't worry, no big deal. This is nothing compared to what Talia used to do, believe me!" A mischievous grin full of fangs appeared on his face, lighting his eyes gold. "Although, since you're asking for forgiveness, maybe there's something you can do for me."

Drake did his best to smile back. Now that the presence of his wolf had retreated back into his soul, leaving behind just the physical part of the change, he felt uneasy and nervous, as if he somehow was still incomplete as a werewolf. "Go on."

"Well..." Wyatt discarded his destroyed t-shirt, and then his shorts, too, revealing a full, throbbing canine erection. "You seem to like the taste of my blood, so... want to give my meat a try, too?"

"I..." Drake hesitated for a moment. No less than three days before, the idea of sucking another man's cock would've been strange and uncomfortable, to say the least; but he couldn't deny the fact that his life had been completely turned upside-down in a moment: he had a new home, a new and strange family, a new job he still didn't know anything about, a new life with new mates by his side... so feeling new desires and compulsion wasn't strange at all, right?And in any case, it's not another man's cock, Drake said to himself while encircling Wyatt's sheath with trembling fingers. It's my alpha's cock. It's different. He gave a quick, tentative lick to the pointed tip: it left a salty, slimy sensation on his tongue, not at all unpleasant. So he gave another lick, this time longer, and then another, and then another... And before he could even realize it, the wolfish erection was already sliding against his welcoming palate, his long, rough tongue doing its best to massage and stimulate it.

At first, Drake was worried he wasn't doing a good enough job pleasing his alpha, but then he could hear him growling in pleasure. "I find it very hard to believe... this is your first time doing this..." Wyatt whispered, his breaths slow and heavy. "I guess you're liking... the taste of my meat, huh? Is it juicy enough for you? Keep going like that, and it'll be even juicier..."

If Drake hadn't been so busy giving his alpha a head, he would've smiled in joy: he was feeling happy and validated, but there was still something missing, something he couldn't quite point out even if he knew it was very important... One of his hands slid down his pants and started caressing his own wolf dick, coating his fingers in slippery precum and eliciting even more pleasure, but that wasn't the feeling he was looking for. I still feel incomplete, but why?, he pondered. In a desperate attempt to find the answer, he doubled his efforts, his mouth and throat now nothing more than a wet, warm hole for his alpha to fuck.

"Nngh..." Wyatt moaned, his clawed fingers buried in the long mane on Drake's head. "I'm so glad you accepted my bite, Drake... T-this is awesome..."

The happiness inside Drake became even brighter and warmer; the ears on his head were erect and proud, the beastly shaft in his pants was ready to blow its first werewolf load, and its tail was...

No. Wait. The realization dawned in his brain like the Moon rising from beyond the horizon. I still don't have a tail! And as if they were waiting for that very thought to be elaborated by Drake's brain, the skin and bones just above his ass crack started growing, expanding and covering in fur as if they were molded and massaged by invisible hands. It was akin to what Drake had felt when his dick had turned into a sheath, and at the same time completely different; he had no words to describe the process his body was experiencing, except... that he was nearing completion.

"Oooh, nice...", Wyatt panted. "S-sprout that sexy tail..." He gulped loudly a couple of times, a long and soft yelp escaping his lips. "I c-can't hold anymore... Here it comes..."

Drake felt the cock in his mouth pulsating and bulging, before its tip unleashed a torrent of hot, stringy fluid down his throat. He gagged for a couple of seconds, before the dick slid past his lips, leaving a strand of cum on his long tongue for him to enjoy; it was yellowish, salted and slightly spicy. That's the taste of my alpha, Drake thought, his brain split evenly between pleasure and satisfaction. It's wild, just like he is.

His new huge and majestic tail, nearly four feet long and three feet wide, started wagging uncontrollably behind him, covered in thick gray plumage. Finally, Drake thought. Now I'm him, and he is me. From now and forever. That very thought was enough to drive him over the edge, his dick throbbing and stirring under his hand; a huge wet spot appeared on the front of his pants as his shaft was pumping out the last of his human seed and the first of his werewolf spunk. Drake's hand-paw slithered outside his clothes, revealing fur matted in white and yellow cum, which he licked with delight, savoring his own taste... even if the last bit was stolen by Wyatt's tongue. "Yours is a bit sweeter than mine," he remarked. "I like that."

Drake sit on the floor, looking around: despite the near complete darkness, he could see the whole room quite well thanks to the enhanced vision the eyes of the wolf were granting him... and it was a real mess. "Dude, your mother will kill us," he muttered, looking at the stains of fresh blood on the parquet floor.

Wyatt shrugged. "Nah, she's quite used to it. But we should clean up what we can, and get a change of clothes; take another shower, maybe. And we should do all that quick, we don't have much time before we have to go outside."

"Go outside?" Drake repeated. "For what?"

Wyatt grinned at him, as usual. "Remember what you made me promise? That you could be the woods with me? Well, it's time to fulfill that promise."

Half an hour later, the two young werewolves silently slipped out the back door of the house; there were already four pair of glowing eyes waiting for them under the large patio. The very moment he put a foot outside, Drake was assaulted again by Kaylee and Chance. "You're so cool, big bro!" the boy in the leather jacket exclaimed, hugging him. "I bet you'll be huge as a primal wolf!"

Drake looked down at himself: after the wolf had finally decided to lend him his power, his muscles had indeed grown again; of course, he wasn't as massive as Patrick - who in his wild form looked even more imposing and gigantic - or as ripped and defined as Wyatt; he looked more like a football player... and he couldn't deny that being that fit and athletic was making him feel awesome. But I still hope I won't become as large as a minivan, though. "Big bro?!" he repeated, looking at Angela for some support.

The young woman smiled. "It seems they have taken a liking to you." She lowered her voice a bit. "They love to be scratched behind their ears, by the way."

Wyatt, meanwhile, was jumping nervously from one bare feet-paw to the other. "Come on, we're wasting time! Let's show Drake how we have fun around here!"

And so, they run.

They run through the woods, among the tall trees, under the fresh, lively August night. They laughed, they roared, they growled, they shouted, they howled, they screamed until their throats were hoarse, and then they screamed a bit more. They were free, they were wild, and they were together, and there was nothing else that mattered.

Drake dashed through the forest, his mind invaded by the pure, simple joy of being alive.

He saw the waning moon peeping out through the foliage of the trees.

He smelled the fragrant, spicy smell of resin and bark.

He jerked at the alarmed yelp of a red fox when he stepped in front of its burrow.

He touched the dark, moist ground with his sensitive feet, every step a different amalgam of complex, intertwining stimuli.

He tasted the August breeze, full of different aromas, carrying around the memories of a golden July and the promise of a wistful, bittersweet September.

And then - for just one moment - he could hear it, in perfect, painful clarity.

The sound of Summer running.

It was in his steps, and Wyatt's, and Patrick's and Angela's and Chance's and Kaylee's. It was a sound like anything he had heard so far, a primal and ancient rhythm pounding against his eardrums like a forgotten song from the beginning of time. It was beautiful.

And a second later, it was gone.

But I will remember it, Drake thought, howling in joy while running through (and being) the woods with his new packmates. This time, this very moment, no matter what may happen... I'll carry it inside me anywhere. Forever.

(next chapter: Where the wild things are)