King’s Wolf

Chapter Four

Michael danced slowly, the tempo building. He did not know where he was dancing, only that he needed to please his audience. He was wearing a short green tunic that came to mid-thigh, a brown sash securing it at his waist. It was not any apparel for dance that he recognized. Often he danced nude, but when he did wear clothing, its color and design were always symbolic. Green and brown, made of this rough material – he had no idea what the garment could mean and yet it felt completely natural to him to be dancing in it.

He was not dancing around a fire as he often did. He was dancing around a bed. There was a person on the bed but he could not see who he or she was. He just knew he had to keep dancing, faster and faster, his leaps higher, his spins and twirls tighter and more elaborate. He could sense watching eyes in the shadows further back from the bed but he could not see who the watchers were.

Was it the hidden audience that he had to please?  Or the person in the bed? Or, as always, the goddess? He did not know, just that this dance was the most important one he had ever danced, more important than the one on his betrothal day, when he danced for the Dance Master, or even on his wedding day to Suzanne when Royals from all three Kingdoms had gathered to celebrate their union. It was more important than his dance of thanksgiving when the twins were born, or even his dance of mourning when Adam and Suzanne were laid to rest. More important than the dance of love he gave to Colin on their first night together? And the one that slew the Hell Hound that saved the lives of all he held dear, possibly the Kingdoms? Yes, more important than that one, he sensed....

Michael suddenly found that he had reached an end to his dance. It was done. He looked up from his kneeling position at the foot of the bed and waited. For what?  He was not sure. Then a figure garbed in white came out from the shadows and looked down at the figure in the bed, then looked at Michael. With a long white hand, the figure beckoned Michael, and he got to his feet and walked over to where the figure stood. Taking a deep breath, he looked down.

It was himself he saw lying on the bed, as still as death.  The white garbed figure turned to him and said in a sad voice, “You did not dance long enough.”

Just as Michael was about to protest, to demand another chance, a second figure in white came out from the shadows. This figure had another dancer with it. (Michael could not tell if the figures were males or females). This dancer was in silver and blue, and his dance was a simple one, a dance that a child could dance. He stumbled a little, then a little more. As Michael watched, perplexed, the Michael on the bed stirred, then sat up and watched the stumbling dancer. Slowly, as though his limbs had fallen asleep and he did not quite trust them yet, the Michael from the bed swung them around and stood up. He then took the stumbling dancer in his arms, and started to show him how to dance.  Soon, they were dancing smoothly together.

In consternation, because he had not seen it right away, Michael realized that the stumbling dancer was Colin. Colin saved him; he was not able to save himself even when it required something that was Michael’s strength and gift? He would have to give this more thought.
 

*************
 

Michael closed the door behind him and locked it. Colin looked up from the chair where he was reading an ancient text on Metamorphs. He was still looking for more information to explain the connections between Lycan’s Pack and the Royal families.

“Do you expect someone to try coming into our quarters without permission or is that just symbolic of you wanting to shut the world away?”  

Michael smiled faintly. Colin was never overly perturbed by Emory moodiness, which was a good thing since he was exposed to it so often.

“Well, now that you mention it, though I believe Lycan is unlikely to disturb us, as he was going to leave as soon as he let Bran know he was going, I expect Rafe to come barging in as soon as he discovers that fact. So, the locked door is a wise precaution on my part. I must be getting used to this fatherhood thing. Only took me, oh, almost two decades? Not bad.”

Colin returned the smile but he saw at once that the mere thought of fatherhood had reminded Michael that one of his two boys was missing, and his face was shadowed with the anxiety that had plagued him for months now – ever since Dominic’s capture during Rafe and Melli’s wedding reception. It had been cruel timing on their foe’s part. They had been rejoicing, none more than Dominic, but when the attack came, it was Nic who'd stood at the front of the line, while Lycan, at Nic’s insistence, guarded the wedding chamber to which Rafe and Melli had retreated mere moments before the attack started. Michael and Colin had joined in the battle, of course, but they were soon forced to use all their skill to safeguard the humans who were guests at the wedding. Nic had stood at the apex of the battle and battled brilliantly to defeat the surprisingly large attack force. But by the time they made it to him, he’d been captured by a hooded enemy, and teleported away. Lycan had been all for chasing there and then, but Michael, Colin and Rafe had each received a clear message – chase and Dominic would be killed at once and his head thrown back in their faces.

The message was given to them telepathically.

“How is Lycan? He shared news of Nic with you, I suspect, and he wished to spare Rafe the knowledge that it came to him first. His wisdom, and the care he shows for the needs of others even when he is in pain are the marks of a true leader. The goddess blessed us when she brought Lycan to us, but it was your wisdom that recognized the blessing he was as a mate for your son — I do not believe I would have been able to see past prejudice to value the man as quickly as you did,” Colin said, getting up and walking over to Michael. Michael allowed himself the comfort of his lover’s embrace, remembering the days when he doled out to himself minutes of Colin’s hugs like a starving man rations his last loaf of bread. He pressed his cheek against Colin’s chest and inhaled deeply the fragrance of herbs and spices that always clung to the druid.

“I love you,” he said simply, little knowing how much those simple words still stirred the quiet man who held him. Colin tightened his arms around Michael, and gave thanks to the goddess once more that she’d allowed him to play a part in this beautiful man’s life, and indeed, that it was such a part made him grateful beyond his ability to express in words.

“I love you also,” Colin replied, keeping his tone light, “and I think you will love me even more if you let me take off your tunic and breeches and massage some of the stiffness from your aching muscles.”

“I cannot promise that all the stiffness will leave,” Michael teased, delighted by the faint blush that appeared in Colin’s cheeks. He would never tire of the sweet innocence that Colin had brought to their union. Innocence coupled with the passion of a summer storm. A man could not ask for more.

“Make love to me,” Michael suggested, pulling his tunic off. Colin did not need to be asked again. He reached down to unbutton the fine leather breeches that were Michael’s customary garb.  He knelt as he lowered them, sliding them down the muscular legs, rolling down stockings after pulling off his lover’s boots. He bent to kiss the inside of one tanned thigh, admiring the taut muscles that led up to the groin, where the dark patch of hair contrasted so pleasingly with the lighter tan found there. He nuzzled the short curls there, loving the musky smell that was so uniquely Michael, as his hands pressed into the firm muscles of his buttocks.

“Let me lay you down on the bed and spread you out like a feast, my love,” he murmured, already growing hard at the thought of kissing Michael in his most intimate spots in the way his lover had taught him not so long ago.

“I like that idea,” Michael murmured, his head thrown back, revealing the long line of throat. Colin’s mouth watered. He stood up quickly and pressed on Michael’s shoulder gently to urge him back toward the bed even as his lips sought the pulse point on that long neck and suckled it. He followed Michael down as he fell back, separating only long enough to toss off his robes.

“Druid robes make you so nice and accessible,” Michael commented, reaching down to stroke the hard flesh that rose up to meet his hands. “I want you now, love. Make love to me hard and fast, like one of your storms breaking over the shore. Make me forget for a little while, please.”

Colin set about doing just that. He captured Michael’s sculpted lips in a fierce kiss as he dipped his fingers in the jar of sweet smelling oil that they kept handy by their bedside. Shifting Michael’s legs to his shoulders, he pressed his fingers inside slowly while he moved his mouth over the hard muscles of his chest, sucking first on one nipple, then the other, causing small moans of pleasure to escape those lovely lips. Michael tried to grab for his member and position it at his entrance but Colin caught his hands and pinned them above his head.

“Do I need to restrain you, Dancer?” he asked, a smile in his eyes that was reflected back in the gleam in Michael’s.

“That would be pleasurable...but not today. Please fill me up now,” Michael enjoined him, his tone sweetly pleading and irresistible to Colin. Dipping his fingers once more for oil to slick on his member, he positioned himself at the small opening, marveling as he always did at how so much pleasure could be derived from something that seemed as though it should only bring pain. Yet, as he moved inside his lover, he could see the joy on Michael’s face, a joy that matched his own as he grasped Michael’s straining member with his slick hands and stroked it in tandem with his strokes within that perfect body. Michael wrapped his legs around Colin and thrust up to bring him even deeper within, his arms were joined around his neck and they rocked together, each of them devoted to giving the other maximum pleasure.

“Kiss me, Colin, kiss me as I spend myself in your hand and as I feel your essence spilling out inside me,” Michael murmured against Colin’s neck. He turned his head and offered his lips to Colin, who gladly opened his mouth to him, kissing him deeply as they climaxed. Only when the last tremor was over did they slow their rocking and kissing.

Colin lowered Michael gently to the bed, then, he slowly, tenderly, kissed his way across his abdomen, licking each droplet of semen from Michael’s body and from his own hand, dipping his finger into Michael’s mouth once to give him a taste.  Marveling once again at how much making love energized them rather than tiring them, as he had always understood it did most people, Colin rolled his Dancer over and began a slow, deep, massage, beginning at his shoulders and working his way down his back and his hips, following the path of his hands with his lips. Once he reached the crevice at the base of Michael’s spine, he parted the cheeks and traced a line with his tongue, dipping down with the tip of his tongue, tasting the creased hole, licking the drops of his own semen that were blended with the taste of Michael.

“I want to taste you,” Michael said, his voice husky.  “Let me kiss you while you kiss me thusly. You have gotten too good at lovemaking, my chaste druid. I want to enjoy your body – and see you enjoying my body, all evening and all night.”

“I have no objection,” Colin said demurely.

His aches and pains healed by their lovemaking, and yes, even his sorrows eased for the moment, if never completely forgotten, Michael explored every inch of his love’s body, reveling in its tastes and textures, and also in the responses he won from his formerly shy mate. Where once Colin would try to hold back, too timid to reveal how much Michael’s touch pleased him, now he arched into it, and was vocal in his pleasure. He also returned the pleasure, no longer content to lie passive and allow Michael to work his magic on him. His hands and mouth were busy touching and tasting each part of Michael that they could reach until the two men were laying toe to head, mouth to cock, pleasuring each other in tandem.

Even in the midst of worry and sorrow, this joining together brought such relief and joy, Colin had come to realize, no longer seeing sexual pleasure as something separate from day to day life, to be saved for the dark of night, and hidden moments. Michael taught him that sex was one of life’s great gifts – it renewed as it relieved, and both of them arose from their pleasures closer and stronger than before.

Later, as they watched the sun dip lower in the sky, Colin held Michael against his chest and ran his fingers through the long hair that he loved. His own dark hair was fine and straight but Michael’s was thick and wavy, almost curly. It wrapped itself around his fingers as he wove them through the strands. At thirty-three, Michael’s hair was still as black as ever, while Colin, at just thirty-five, already had streaks of white at his temples. Dominic had teased last year that it came from having their father to watch over in addition to them – the added stress was enough to turn any man gray, the light-hearted boy had laughed. Colin thought there was probably more than a speck of truth to that. But as long as Michael did not mind it, he did not care. He suspected that the worries this year had brought might well turn his hair completely white.

Colin waited until Michael’s eyes drifted shut and his breathing was the steady breath of sleep before he slid out of bed and went over to his scrying glass. He still did not know what Lycan and Michael had discussed but he knew his partner needed the rest despite the energy their love-making had given them and his urge to scry right then was strong. His power had grown since he’d coupled with Michael – proving Michael right and his old tutor Benra very wrong. Even now, he did not know whether the druid had truly believed what he had insisted for so long was the truth to Colin, or whether he had been plotting against the Royal families for decades — even from Colin’s childhood! In the end, he gave his life to save Melli and Rafe, his dedication to them being real, even if he had not believed in Dominic as the rightful King, and had actively fought against Lycan and eventually against Michael and Colin. Still, he’d died a hero’s death, sacrificing himself to give Melli and Rafe a chance to escape.

The only downside was that with the added power, Colin’s scrying was no longer as manageable. At least not yet. He was as likely to see the events of twenty years hence as find a person who was missing today. It was frustrating and the lack of a gifted seer to guide them was sorely felt. He looked now into the glass, thinking of Dominic, trying to keep his mind open to whatever the glass deemed worthy to show him.

There was a shabby figure of a man, lean, bent, but not old. It was the bent posture of a man who was used to bowing. He stood in a shadowy place, a cave perhaps?  There was a fire, it was burning bright though there was little to feed it – a mage fire, Colin guessed, and he tried to see more, as that shabby figure was no mage, if he knew anything.

There was another figure in the cave, coming into view as Colin concentrated more intently. This figure was shabby also but there was an air about the man – it was male, he was sure of that. The clothes were good quality though very worn, threadbare almost. The man wearing them had regal bearing, even though weary. Colin wished he could make out the man’s face but thought it was hidden — almost as though the man were hiding it. The men were talking. The conversation went from cordial to confrontational in the blink of an eye. The shabby man morphed into a wolf, a lean, hungry looking wolf. There was a short, vicious fight, the regal man was hurt, and despite his skill, his weariness and smaller stature was affecting him. Colin could see blood coming from a vicious bite wound on his leg. Despite that, he was able to throw the beast onto the fire, which he caused to flare dramatically. The beast circled back, the fire was keeping him away but eventually he would notice that it was not real, that much of it was illusion. Colin prayed to the goddess to send Dominic help.

For it was Dominic he was seeing. He had no doubt of that. Whether this fight had already happened or would yet happen, he could not tell, but it was a true vision. He took the chance of interrupting the vision to call sharply to Michael, waking his love, though he did not waste time explaining.

“Quick,” he said tersely. “Catch Lycan before he leaves and bring him to me. If he has left, retrieve him, or find out which way he went so that you and I can catch up with him.”

Michael leapt from their bed and raced from the room, pausing only to grab his breeches.  

Colin returned his full attention to the glass– now that the sight of Michael’s naked buttocks was not there to distract him.

Dominic was on the ground, kneeling, his hand to his leg wound, the blood seeping through his fingers. The other man, back in his human form, was stalking back and forth on the other side of the fire.  He seemed to be taunting Nic, who was ignoring him, no doubt intent on maintaining his illusion. Colin suspected he was low on mana. It was only a matter of time before the creature came through the fire again.

Suddenly, another wolf entered the fray. The shabby man morphed back into his wolf form. He was far larger than the new wolf – a female Colin thought – but she was in much better health and condition. She killed the other wolf fairly easily, then walked through Nic’s fire illusion. Colin watched fearfully. Nic was slumped against the far wall of the cave and seemed unconscious. The she-wolf used her teeth to rip Nic’s breeches from his leg. But to Colin’s relief, the she-wolf did not tear the breeches from him in order to cause him harm. Instead, she began to lap at the wound gently, cleaning away the dirt and blood, using her saliva to seal the wound in the way wolves had. As soon as she finished, she morphed into a human female and ripped the breeches further in order to form a crude bandage. After she finished caring for his wound, she moved Nic back onto the blanket, again being as gentle as a mother to a child. She then curled up next to him, holding him close to warm him.  Before the vision faded, Colin saw her human shape change back into a wolf, no doubt for the warmth.

The glass went dark. Colin sagged back into the chair that he kept close to his scryglass. A nearby table held a decanter of wine and glasses for moments like this and he had just finished pouring himself a glass when Michael returned with Lycan. Bran and Rafe were with them.

“What have you seen?” Lycan’s tone was brusque. He’d been moments from leaving when Michael had caught him. He was impatient to be on the road, after his mate. He trusted Michael not to delay him without good cause, but... it was hard for him to have patience for visions. Too often they were chancy things. He trusted these men, but when the opportunity for action had finally come, it was hard for him to wait once more.

Rafe walked over to Colin and hugged him tightly before pouring a glass of wine for his father and replenishing Colin’s glass. He then held up the decanter and looked at Bran, raising his eyebrow.

“No, lad. But I will take some water. Lyc will too. We came in from the far training yard at a run.” Bran smiled at him. Rafe always found it easier to get along with Bran than he did with Lycan; much as he loved and admired his brother’s mate. Bran was just much easier…not to want to knock heads with! Rafe did not realize, of course, that part of the duties of a skilled Beta was soothing the ruffled feathers of another Alpha, and Bran was the very best Beta. Colin was beginning to pick up on some of the more subtle duties that Bran handled, and was more impressed all the time by the dynamics of the Pack and how it mirrored, and often improved, on  Court dynamics.  

“Give Colin a moment,” Michael instructed Lycan. “Trust me, and him. He would not have delayed your journey unless he knew the information he could give you would be worth the time.”

Lycan nodded and crouched down, waiting. He took the water goblet Rafe handed him and gulped it down. He was in the loose-fitting pants he wore for travel. Michael and Colin had worked on enchanting a sturdy cloth so that it would stretch and mold as needed to fit the wolf’s body, and even shrink to form an invisible harness that did not hamper them as they ran and fought. Lycan had insisted that it needed to be invisible or it would pose a hazard in a fight. This was designed to break away should an enemy chance to grab it by accident. Colin and Melli had worked on the garments until they had it right, acceptable to the Wolf Leader and yet sufficient to please Mellisande’s sensibilities. There were still times when Melli and the other females found themselves faced with nude Metamorphs, but as Nic pointed out, most of the other girls didn’t really mind – the Metamorphs being, on the whole, fine looking men.

“Colin, are you up to telling us?” Michael asked gently, managing to keep his own impatience out of his voice. He stood behind his partner and gently massaged his temples, knowing that a really strong vision strained Colin and often left him with a fierce headache.

“I saw Dominic.”

Colin waited for their various reactions to that news to subside, and then quickly, but thoroughly, described his vision exactly as it had taken place. Rafe wrote it down as he told it. This was something Melli had taught him to do, as usually the first telling was the most detailed.

“Can you show me?” Lycan asked, his tone grim.

Colin looked to Michael. Even after more than a year, Michael was the only one besides Dominic to have a good telepathic connection with Lycan. Rafe could connect with him somewhat, but Colin could exchange only the occasional idea or concept with him, but by no means could he impress whole visions into his mind.

“You can show Rafe and me,” Michael suggested, “and then we will both work to show Lycan and Bran. Between all of us, something may strike a chord, either the place or one of the other Metamorphs.”

Nodding, Colin agreed, despite his exhaustion. There was no time to wait for him to rebuild his strength. From the look of the trees alone, Colin suspected that Dominic was on the other side of the Second Kingdom mountain range, on the Third Kingdom side of those mountains, many days’ travel from their present location, even for the swift traveling wolf. A teleport to a closer area would make the most sense, he mused, just to get him closer.

The five comrades linked hands, Lycan between Colin and Michael, with Bran and Rafael at his back, each with a hand on Colin or Michael also.  By agreement, they stayed silent until Colin’s memory of the vision had run through completely. Once it had, Rafe assisted him to his glass of wine, which he sipped slowly, his face ashen.

Bran was looking at Lycan excitedly, the latter’s face was expressionless.

“Did you see, Lyc? I could see clearly! And her face! It had to be her. I thought it was just watching her fight but then when she changed, it couldn’t be anyone but her....”

“Shut-up, Bran.”

Rafe and Colin looked at Lycan startled. Michael frowned, then touched his large son-in-law on the shoulder. He stood up, speaking one word to Lycan as he did.

“Come.”

Lycan started to argue but one glance at the flinty look in those green eyes that were so different from the violet eyes he loved, in a face that was so similar to Dominic’s made him change his mind. Michael paused slightly at the doorway, and smiled at Bran.

“Thank you, Bran, for your help. Share some drink with Colin and Rafe while you see what else you can come up with that might be of assistance. Rafe, write it all down please.”

Bran waited until he received a curt nod from his Leader before nodding back at Michael. He worshipped the Pup’s Sire, and all of their Pack saw him as a father to them by this time and accorded him respect – but Lycan was their Leader. None of them took orders from anyone without his approval and consent. Rafe found this annoying at times, Dominic and Michael admired it. Colin found it fascinating.

Walking out onto the ramparts, Michael waited until they reached an isolated area, then turned and faced Lycan.

“Who is the woman and why does her helping Nic bother you? He was in a treacherous situation. Without her help, he might have died, or been hurt much more than he was.”

Lycan looked out over the horizon. Michael could sense him struggling over whether to answer. He knew Lycan would not lie to him; if he answered at all, it would be the truth. He waited. He knew how hard it was to speak some truths. He knew also that Lycan was well aware of the need for haste. He wished he could go with the Metamorph to look for Dominic, but things were too precarious here. He was needed to keep the others safe and to train the new recruits to their cause.   

Lycan finally spoke. “I know the she-wolf, the woman. She is kin.”

Michael was relieved. “That is good, isn’t it? Does she know of you and Dominic?” He started to ask more but the expression on Lycan’s face made him stop. He went back to his first question. “Is it good, or not?”

“I do not know if she knows about Nic and me. It would be better for him if she does not. That was Lydia. She is, was, my sister.”

Michael waited. After a long pause, Lycan continued, his tone heavy. “She holds a great anger toward me. If she knows – or finds out – that Dominic is my mate – she will likely harm him.”

“Why?” Michael asked simply.

“Because I killed the man she chose as her mate.”
 

**********

Dominic woke. He lay still and took stock of his surroundings and condition. Still the same cave. That was not great but it could be worse. At least no one carried him off during the night. He felt pain in his leg but it was not as bad as he thought it would be. The bite had been a deep one. He sat up and immediately thought better of it. The large loss of blood from the night before made him light-headed. He was alone in the cave – he could see that much in the dim light. It was morning, past dawn, but it was a rainy day and that made the light dim. His fire had burned down to a small glow. His first task was to set it to burning brightly again. He focused his mind on it and was pleased to see the flames leap up. The rain would make finding dry fire wood impossible and he needed the warmth so he did not begrudge the mana for the fire, which was relatively small, all things considered and he could not risk illness from cold.

Now, to try reaching his father. His mana was still very low but Michael was strong and his father’s power should make it easier to reach him over long distances than even Rafael, who was so close to him it was like sharing a mind sometimes.

At least, it had been before.

“How did you do that?”

The she-wolf had come in and morphed back into a woman while Nic had been focusing on the fire.  He smiled at her.

“It’s a trick my father taught me. Learning how to kill an opponent while hungry and sick would have been good too,” he said easily, hoping to distract her. In actuality, Michael had taught that lesson too but all skills had their limits. When Dominic reached his physical limits, he still had his charm, Colin used to point out, to Rafael’s disgust and Michael’s amusement. Dominic used it now.

“Thank you for your help last night. I was not at my best,” he said to the woman, smiling confidingly. She laughed at him.

“I would guess you might have been at your worst,” she agreed. “Do you remember my name? I told it to you last night but you were very weak from blood loss and I will understand if you don’t remember it. It is Lydia.”

Dominic reached out his hand, palm up. Had she been male, he would have touched foreheads with her in the manner Bran had taught him was common for non-leaders, but females were not greeted so familiarly.  “I am...Nicon.” He gave only the form of his name the wolves called him sometimes. It was a common enough name among them that it would not alert her to who he was immediately as Dominic might have. He was not as trusting as the others often accused him of being.

“It is good to meet you, Nicon. I was hunting this morning. Not especially successfully, but enough to break our fast. Some rabbits. I ate already but saved a few for you.”  She tilted her head as she looked at him, and then looked from him to the fire, a question in her eyes.

Nic smiled again, this time in a self-deprecating manner. “If it would not be too much trouble, could you bring the others here so I could cook them? I do prefer them that way.”

“I thought you might,” Lydia smiled. She hesitated, then asked, or rather, stated, “You’re not one of us, are you? You don’t seem to be bothered by my nakedness, in a troubling way as so many men are, nor did my treating your injury seem to concern you as it would most humans....” Again, she gave him the questioning look, but one that offered the choice of answering or keeping his privacy. Nic liked this she-wolf more by the minute! His sisters would be pestering for answers in any similar situation, though he could not quite imagine any of them treating the events of the previous night with anywhere near the equanimity that Lydia had! He felt she deserved answers, at least as much as was safe to give her.

“That is true. I am grateful for your help and I would not treat you with disrespect simply for being as the goddess made you, clothed in skin or fur. But you are right. I am not one of the changing people,” Nic admitted, using one of the Metamorph’s terms for themselves. “I am friend to many in my homeland, though, and have wrestled often with my friends. That sneaky dog of a wolf would not have caught me off guard and gotten a taste of me if I had not been ill.”

Lydia nodded, as though an unspoken question had been answered. “Let me get those rabbits. Getting you fed will get you on the way to being healed.”

Dominic watched as she walked back out into the rainy morning. She was a lovely woman. He could tell enough about women’s bodies to know that even if he did not respond as most men did. Sometimes even Lycan teased him for being so uninterested in females. Nic had never lain with a woman – well, other than the night before, but he suspected having a woman curl up to you to keep you from freezing to death would not count to either his brother or his mate. Colin and Michael told him not to worry about it, and in truth, Lycan was enough for any one man to handle.

But...lack of response did not mean he lacked curiosity, and he had often wondered about what other men found so interesting. He knew from his trips to Kelway that even men like himself who preferred men often enjoyed women also, and Michael apparently was like that. He suspected from comments that the members of the Pack made that Lycan had been known to enjoy she-wolves on occasion. For the first time, he thought he could understand. Certainly, this Lydia, with her long lean limbs and small firm breasts was much more pleasing to his eye than the more full-bodies beauties of Kelway had been. Her tawny hair fell to midway down her back, but was shorter in front, framing her strong featured face. She had a golden complexion, and her eyes were the same shade of amber brown, almost gold, that Lycan’s were. For a female, she was very physically appealing, he decided.

Dominic was hit with a feeling of longing for his mate. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to focus on home, sending his thoughts out, seeking his father or brother, but mainly his lover.

“Shall I put the rabbits on the fire?”

Lydia’s voice startled him just when he thought he was reaching someone, Lycan, he thought. Tears of frustration came to his eyes but he blinked them back, knowing that Lydia would have nothing but scorn for a man who cried. He couldn’t answer her at first though, so he just nodded, and then fussed with his leg wound, hoping she would think it was paining him.

She surprised him. After she placed the neatly skinned rabbits on the fire, wrapped in aromatic leaves, she came over and knelt by his side, wrapping her arms around him.

“Do not feel that you have to be a tough wolf with me, Nicon,” she whispered fiercely. “I know a Pack’s ways. All must be as the Leader wants it, even when the Leader is a pig-headed fool. Some hurts of the heart are worse than the deepest bite, and some injuries never heal. You do not need to pretend with me, as I am always myself. I found long ago that I am not good at pretending to be something I am not. If you want a friend, though, you may have one. All I ask is that you try to be honest in return.”

Nic looked up into those amber eyes.  He liked this Lydia so much, and wished he could be as open with her as she was being with me. But...he could not. Which brought him to consider a thorny problem. He could very much use her help right now. But, he had an army searching for him. Two if you considered his own, he thought, his sense of humor never far away. Could he risk telling her, and possibly run the risk of her turning him in to his enemies? But if he did not, he was risking her life far more than she knew. Better that he share a meal with her and part company, he decided.

For now, he returned her embrace.  And changed the subject.

“I did not mean to be weak, but thank you for your understanding,” he said quietly, not wanting to rebuff her gesture, but needing to change the subject. “I would like your friendship, but not all my secrets are mine to share. For now, I am grateful beyond measure for this meal. You have made the rabbits smell delicious! Can I not convince you to have a bit more? I find that while I am very hungry, I cannot eat as much as my eyes tell me they want, or it will go ill with me.”

Dominic made a comical face and Lydia laughed. “You are wise as well as comely, I see. Quite a few young wolves break a long fast by eating all that they can fit in their gullet – only to see it again a short while later!”  Nic offered her the blanket “in case she felt the chill of the morning in her human form” and she accepted it graciously, wrapping it around her sarong style.

Nic suspected that in fact she had saved all of the rabbits she’d caught for him, and he was careful to leave half of those she had cooked for her to eat. She smiled at him, realizing that her generosity had been detected. They were in perfect accord as they shared the meal, drinking water she brought from a nearby stream.  

“Are there any standing stones nearby?” he asked, after they had discussed the weather and the hunting. Lydia was not part of a pack. She had left the one she had grown up in several years ago and had been on her own ever since, sometimes living as a human, sometimes as a wolf. The recent surge in battling between the Authority and the Telepaths had sent her south, wanting to avoid the trouble since it had entangled the Changing People from the North, she had heard.

“I think I have seen what you mean, large stones, placed in a circle?” When Nic nodded, trying to hide his excitement, she shook her head. “Such stones have been in the Tuneric District for as long as I have been here. No, that is wrong to say. Those stones have stood for age upon age the old she-wolves tell me, but five moons ago they were knocked down; no one seems to know how it was done, although the who is whispered by some. It was considered a great piece of ill fortune as the stones are supposed to be a tribute to the goddess.”

“Who is suspected?” Nic asked, though he thought he could guess.

“Rumor says that it was done by the hooded men — at least, I have heard some say it was them. I do not know who they are but the Changing People around here speak of them with respect…and fear.”

Nic felt a chill. Jamyn and Jared must have done it – but could they have that kind of power? Ben had hinted at something being wrong with the standing stones but did not say exactly what it was. Nic had not believed the other two had that kind of power though. Could they have done it with the aid of their druids?  Would any druids agree to such an act? Surely Ben had not agreed to help in such an evil deed. To topple druid stones that had been in place for hundreds of years? All of those that were in place in the Kingdoms had been there since before the Kingdoms had been formed. Was their enemy more powerful than they’d ever dreamed? Michael and Colin had raised stones for their circle on their island, but those stones were nowhere near as powerful as the ones on the mainland. Which required more power, he wondered – to build or to destroy?  

Who could stop men who wielded such power for destruction? The timing suggested they did it to further isolate their stronghold — and to make it harder for anyone to reach Dominic once they managed to take him. He thought again of how strong Ben was to teleport him so far without the aid of stones, but he might have taken it in stages once he had Nic unconscious. There also had been hints that his power had been augmented by dark magic.

“Are you all right, Nicon? Do you need more water? Does your leg pain you?”

Lydia’s voice was warm, concerned. He turned blindly to her, needing that warmth. His mana was still so low, he could not reach Lycan and he needed him so much. Lydia reminded him very much of his mate and he was so very lonely. He wrapped his arms around her slim, muscular form and pulled her close. She came to him willingly. She brought her lips to his and he kissed her, his mouth closed at first as he took almost a clinical notice of the differences between her lips and Lycan’s, her body and the male bodies that had been his only experience until now. Somehow, despite those differences, and they were numerous, he was forcibly reminded of Lycan as he held her in his arms, and he found it impossible not to pull the blanket from around her and press her down to the ground. He felt himself harden, something that had never happened to him when he was with a woman. Before now, that was.

“Lydia?” His voice was softly questioning, his confusion written on his face. She removed the blanket the rest of the way herself and spread it out on the cave floor.

“Nic, it is cold and gray outside the cave – let us stay inside now. We can continue our travels tomorrow. Perhaps our journey will even carry us along the same road for a way,” she said, her husky voice pleasing to him. He felt as though he’d drunk the sweet wine of Kelway, his limbs were so heavy, his organ so swollen with desire. She lay back upon the blanket and for a moment, he almost thought it was Lycan lying there, waiting for him, a faint smile on his face.

But, the firelight shifted and his vision cleared. He was in no doubt of his actions — this was Lydia, not Lycan, for all that she seemed a female version of his love. Nic had been cold and lonely for so many weeks; he did not think Lycan would begrudge him seeking warmth this way. Nic pulled off the remnant of his breeches that he’d put on while she was out hunting, and he leaned over her, placing his arms on either side of her body, his hard cock brushing against the flatness of her belly. He brushed his fingers over the soft patch of hair between her legs and moved his fingers deeper until he found the moist cleft that Colin had taught him about so long ago. He leaned down and kissed her as he continued to stroke between her legs, marveling again at how different this was from the hard muscles of his mate’s body. He moved down, kissing her small breasts, which caused her to gasp in pleasure. She tried to grab his cock but he easily captured her hands and pinned them down.

Love-making was something that Nic was good at, and although he was finding it different with a female, it was interesting and not beyond his skill. He moved his lips to where his hand had been and licked lightly. Lydia moaned softly. The taste was not as pleasing to him as Lycan’s musky saltiness but it was not bad, he decided, and he had not had the chance to taste Lycan in so long. Besides, he found it arousing to have his efforts be so arousing to her. She bucked up as he continued to lick and touch her, his hands pinching and caressing her breasts.

“Oh, please, Nicon...more....I’m...I’m going to...I...” He felt her tremble and shudder, but he didn’t stop, instead, he moved up and entered her smoothly, slowly, his pain and weakness forgotten in their mutual arousal. She howled her pleasure, wrapping her legs around his waist. His leg pain came back then but he needed release and had no trouble ignoring the pain. He began to thrust into her warm moist heat, part of his mind noting the differences still, the other part given over to the pleasure, enjoying her long legs clasped around him, her arms on his shoulders.

Lydia leaned up and kissed him fiercely, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts.  The tremors of her second climax, the clenching of her muscles inside sent him into his own orgasm.

“Ly..Lydia!” Nic almost said Lycan’s name but caught himself in time. He withdrew from her and collapsed to the side and she rolled over on top of him, careful not to press down upon the injured area on his leg. They fell asleep, Lydia curled against his side. This time, before he drifted off to sleep, Nic’s thoughts were of his mate, his mind filled with images of him standing along a rampart wall, looking out across the horizon.

Wolf, forgive me....
 

*********

Michael waited for Lycan to tell him more. After a pause, Lycan looked at him, a wry smile on his handsome face.

“You’re impossible to shock, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like to tempt destiny...but I will concede that I am less easily shocked than most,” Michael admitted, jumping up and sitting on the wall. “Tell me, why did you kill your sister’s intended mate? I trust you had what seemed like a good reason at the time.”

Lycan sighed. “That is the tricky part in leading, is it not? You have seen the problem clearly. I did have what seemed to me to be a very good reason at the time. She did not agree, of course. Her mate died, at my hands, she left the Pack, swearing vengeance. I never saw her again. Did I make the right decision?  I do not know anymore. I did what I had to do to save my Pack and my sister, and I saw no other choice. I only saved one of them.”

“You are not telling me much,” Michael pointed out, trying his best not to sound impatient. It was not like Lycan to be so slow to get to the point, especially when he had somewhere to go.

“Sorry.” Lycan’s usual grin was a half-hearted effort. “Let me get this out then I will be on my way. I have already been delayed twice today; it is beginning to seem as though destiny is taking a hand in when I am to leave. But…my tale. My sister Lydia fell in love with Meko. Our foster brother. He had been a favorite with Grenald, the Leader before me. We both were, and neither of us had yet been singled out as his clear choice as successor, though his choice would only have influenced the Pack, it would not have been decisive. The Pack still decides, but a Leader’s choice is important as we value our Leader’s opinion. Grenald fell unexpectedly in a battle with the Authority’s guards, some ten years ago now, and the Pack was forced to choose without his guidance.”

Lycan paused again and Michael did not rush him; it was apparent that his bondson was thinking of the Leader who had been lost in battle and saying one of his few formal prayers to the goddess. Michael added his own and then waited for the tale to continue, which it did soon enough. He had a great deal of respect for Lycan’s simple but sincere reverence and knew with a certainty that it pleased the goddess far more than many a druid’s more formal, but insincere ritual ever had in the old days at court.

“It was the Pack’s decision that I be the new Leader. I was two years younger than Meko, but...there were reasons the Pack chose me. The males, especially the older ones, tended to want me while more of the she-wolves were in favor of Meko. That is not completely true, the older she-wolves wanted me as Leader also, but the younger ones, led by Lydia, were eager for Meko to lead. She would have been his Alpha female.”

“I did not know you took votes,” Michael commented. He looked at Lycan. He could easily see why a Pack would choose this man over a possibly more charismatic but less responsible Metamorph. Lycan bespoke authority.

“We don’t usually fight to the death as an ordinary wolf pack would,” Lycan explained. “That costs the pack some of its best wolves. But, when there are two very strong leaders, and a real division on who should lead, the best choice is often to split the pack. I suggested that to Meko. It made sense on many levels. Unlike wolves in the wild, we Metamorphs do not breed on our sisters, so with me as Leader, and Lydia a clear Alpha female, there was a problem. She was not going to be a good Beta female. Meko was not going to be my Beta, that role was Bran’s, and I would not have it any other way. And like Lydia, Meko was not suited to that role anyway. So, to me, it was clear. The only solution was to divide the Pack.”

“He did not like that idea,” Michael guessed.

“He saw it as me throwing him and Lydia from their home. He challenged me, but did so after I had just returned from a long day of hunting and was injured.”

“This is significant because....”

“I was much stronger than Meko…even injured,” Lycan said simply. He added, “But as you know, when you are injured, you cannot control a battle as well as you can when at full health. I had promised my sister that I would not fight Meko because it would not have been much of a battle. She knew that. He did, on some level, and he had other strengths as a Leader but he was not a strong fighter and that is essential for a Wolf Leader. There are always challengers and if you are to protect the Pack from every roaming rogue wolf who comes along, you need to be strong enough to defend against those challengers. Meko was not, but if he started out with a smaller Pack and stayed near us, I could keep an eye on them. That idea did not please him, in part because of one of his dominant weaknesses, his ego. He wanted to take over our Pack from Grenald, because it is the largest, and he wanted our strong fighters, thinking they would keep it safe, not understanding that he needed to be able to be the strongest fighter.

“On that day, we had been on a hunt together with some others from the Pack and he knew I’d been gored by a large boar. He challenged me as soon as we reached our camp, where only the men who were on the hunt were there as witnesses. He did not want Lydia to see. He hoped to make a quick job of it and claim his victory. Bran was not there or he would have contested it being a proper challenge and fought in my place. I, of course, being young and not as wise, did not know I did not have to take the challenge under the circumstances. I was too busy thinking of the fate of my Pack, any part of my Pack, if it were to be under the leadership of an underhanded cur such as Meko was revealing himself to be. I did not trust him with my sister either, someone who lacked honor such as he had shown himself to be. So, we fought.”

“You won, I presume.”

“Yes,” Lycan said heavily. “But, being injured, I could not, what would Nic call it? Finesse it. He was fighting to the death and I had to use brute strength and make it as quick as possible. I bit through his neck and broke it after pinning him. He would have done the same to me, I have no doubt, but that was no comfort to my sister. She sprang for my throat herself when she saw his body.”

Michael nodded. He understood how raw emotion took over at a time like that. “Did you ever tell her what had happened?”

“I could not. She did not stop screaming long enough for me to talk to her. Bran had to drag her off me – I was exhausted and close to collapse. She did not know the wound I had was from the hunt, she thought her hero had inflicted it on me. She cursed me and the Pack and left. I was lucky that more did not join her. They listened to my side, but an inquiry was held. She came back long enough to hear the verdict that I was not guilty, that it was, at least as to Meko, a fair fight. She was doubly bitter at what she felt was the slandering of his name, orchestrated by me and left for good that day, swearing vengeance on me should we ever meet again. I have not seen her since. Not until I saw her in my mind, in the vision that Colin shared.”

“Do you think she will harm Nic in order to hurt you?” Michael got right to the point.

“She should not know of his connection to me. She has traveled far from our home. I have tried to get word of her for years and there has been nothing. I do not think he will mention me, not on purpose. He is very careful about revealing information. You trained him well and he has taken to heart all that you taught him.”

Michael nodded – that was his belief also. “But you were concerned at her being the one with him.”

“I was concerned to see him attacked,” Lycan corrected. Then added, “But, yes. I also was worried to see Lydia because I don’t know how she will treat him in the long run. She treated him very...tenderly. Almost as a mate. Or a child. That is not like her. Not the she-wolf I remember. She was...almost mannish in her ways as a young she-wolf. But she may have changed. This season will be ten years since Meko died. If she has still not found a mate, she may be...lonely.”

Michael frowned as he thought of what this might mean.  It was good that the injured Nic was not alone. However, females normally reacted to him one of two ways, wanting to mother him or wanting him…period. The latter type ended up frustrated by his lack of interest. The frustration sometimes turned to anger.  It was to be hoped that this Lydia stayed motherly toward him as it would be an awkward development to have Dominic caught in the middle of a fight between the two warring Metamorph siblings when he had so much else to worry him. But first they had to get Nic home.

Michael tried to get Lycan to focus on the positive aspects of the vision, as much as there was that was worrisome about it.

“At least we know that Nic has escaped and that he is still free. The vision confirms what we learned from our informants. I don’t recognize that particular cave but it is similar to many such caves that can be found in the area that borders the western edge between the Third and Second Kingdoms. He is further Southwest than I expected him to have gotten by now, given where he traded the necklace. Have you ever traveled that far?”

“No. Don’t you have any of your traveling circles in that Kingdom that would be close to there?”

Michael stared at Lycan, speechless. He called to Colin and Rafe at once.

Come to me at the Western rampart – I cannot believe how stupid we have been.

The other two came out quickly, Bran with them.

“We can teleport Lycan to the Third Kingdom, which will put him much closer to where Dominic is, much faster than him running the whole way. Why did not either of you think of that?”

Colin shook his head. “I did think of it. But there is a problem with the circle at Tuneric. I have tried to get a vision of the circle since last week and all is dark. I would not want to teleport blindly. I could take Lycan to an area nearby. It is not a main circle as the Druid Circle at Tuneric is, but it is a place I know well and can reach. It is about thirty leagues from the edge of the mountains where it appears Dominic has fled.”

“What do you think is wrong with the Tuneric circle? I don’t like the idea of you trying to teleport that distance with a passenger without the aid of a major Druid Circle,” Michael objected. “It is quite a strain on you to carry Lycan even with the Circle as your destination.”

“I can help,” Rafe said eagerly. “If Colin and I both assist in the teleport, with Lycan’s strength to augment us, there should not be any problem.”

“There is, since you do not know the place I am going,” Colin gently pointed out. “It would be easier if Michael were to help me, if anyone, even though he is not as skilled a teleporter as you are, simply because I can draw freely on his strength and he can more easily draw on Lycan’s. And he can see into my mind to grasp where we are going.”

“But I want to help!” Rafael sounded so much like his younger self that Colin wanted to hug him close. Bran and Lycan were biting back smiles despite the seriousness of the situation but Michael was more War Leader than father at that moment. He spoke curtly to his younger son.

“Our primary concern right now is not pacifying your ego or your sensibilities. I know that you’re worried about Dominic. Not a one of us here is not. But you have another person you need to think of now – Mellisande, who is carrying your children, and she would not be content with a substitute for you. Your brother will understand you not being there to rescue him with Lycan – your wife will not understand if you are. Certainly not if there are others who can do your role. And, I don’t know why I have to keep reminding you of this but, as Dominic’s heir and a Leader of the Councils of the Second Kingdom, you are at a major risk. It will not help us to rescue Dominic and lose you once again to the monsters who are fighting us. I would think you would remember the type of merciless creatures they are better than any of us.”

Rafael hung his head. Michael relented and walked over to hug him fiercely.

“I will let Colin go – and if it will help get him back sooner, I will go with him, but otherwise, I must choose to stay here even though I want to go with Lycan as much as you do, Rafael. I do not like leaving Dominic in pain and in need. The teleporting will be done in one hour. We can spare that to strengthen ourselves and I will confer with Colin on where and how. I want to try to see Tuneric again, and maybe also reach Dominic. Then, we will make a petition to the goddess and send Lycan on his quest. Agreed?”

Rafael agreed, his demeanor less hangdog. Colin and Michael left to check the scrying stone one more time. Bran and Lycan left together to put together Lycan’s provisions. Rafe went to his wife.

 

***********
 

Mellisande was almost five months pregnant. She was feeling nauseous all the time, but that was not the worst of her troubles. She felt guilty over Dominic being captured while protecting her and Rafael and she worried over Rafael feeling guilty also. She quarreled with Lycan, snapped at Colin and cried when she saw the worry on Michael’s face. To Colin and Rafael’s surprise, it was Michael who took her mood swings the most in stride. If she cried on his shoulder, he patted her head and looked over it to continue reading parchments. If she wanted to chatter obsessively about her worries over the babies she carried, twins according to Colin, Michael listened with apparent interest long after everyone else’s eyes glazed over.

“How does he do it?” Rafe had asked Colin one day, exhausted from being up all night with his wife, training all day with the men, and trying to reach his missing brother at every spare waking moment in between.

“He is tuning her out,” Lycan had pointed out, when Colin had shrugged, at a loss to explain Michael’s seemingly endless patience.

“I don’t think he is doing that,” Colin had objected.

“Sure he is,” Lycan had said. “I’ve done it myself when the she-wolves complain before they drop their litters.”

That had caused Colin and Rafe to stare at Lycan. There was a pause, and finally it was Colin who had asked, “How many litters have you fathered?”

Lycan had stared at them, then burst out laughing.  He was still bent over, laughing, when Michael and Bran happened to wander into the room.

“What’s so funny?” Michael had growled, “I could use a laugh.”

Rafael had been defensive and Colin a bit embarrassed but Lycan was smiling as he’d answered, “I was just about to explain the difference between wolves and Metamorphs to my dear brother and ‘bond father’ so perhaps you would like to listen as well?”

Bondfather or Bondmother were terms the Metamorphs used for the parent of one’s mate, and Colin liked it. Michael tended to be Pack Father to all of the Metamorphs, which Lycan assured him was a sign of great respect.

“So, what’s the difference? The wolves bathe more?” Michael had thrown himself down onto the couch next to Colin and placed his head in his partner’s lap. “I don’t think that takes much explaining. You only need to walk past any wolf’s den and....”

Lycan had pulled Michael off the couch and onto the floor to wrestle. It was a source of amusement to both men that used to worry Colin and Rafael. Fen and Bran had never worried. They used to sit and bet on which one would win. The wrestling would look fierce but, as Fen pointed out, with Lycan barred from using teeth and claws, and Michael barred from using magic, there was little chance of either being hurt seriously, and it helped work off their excess energy. It often amazed the others that such bouts actually lessened the two men’s fatigue. Lycan was continually surprised by the holds Michael employed and how easily he escaped seemingly impossible pins, and Michael enjoyed having his skill tested in a way that no one else really could.

Rafael thought back to that afternoon as he went to Melli now. Maybe he should talk to his father about how he could be better at dealing with Melli. He felt guilty even thinking of it that way. The truth was, he didn’t want to be worrying over babies now, babies who didn’t even seem real. He had trained his whole life to take care of his brother, protect his brother. And yet, when the first great danger came, it was Dominic who protected him, Dominic and Lycan who put their lives on the line to keep Rafael and Mellisande safe. It was not supposed to be that way and nothing Michael or Colin said could ease his guilt.

“Rafael, is that you?”

“Yes, love. How are you?”

“I’m fine, but what is going on? I’ve sensed so much magic in the air and I haven’t been able to find out what is going on. No one knows, or they won’t tell me.”

Melli’s pretty face was flushed. Rafe walked over and hugged her.

“There has been some good news,” he told her, trying to put enthusiasm in his voice. Realizing what he was doing, he felt ashamed. The news really was wonderful, and Melli would want to know it. He should have told her sooner.

“Michael had some news from one of our people in the Third Kingdom, Nic has escaped from where he was being held. Plus, Colin has had a vision. Lycan is going to go in search of Nic and...”

“Why Lycan? Why not you?”  Her fair brows were drawn together in a frown.

Rafe took a deep breath. He didn’t want to snap, ‘Because I have a pregnant wife and am needed here to hold her hand.’  But he had no other words. Melli took his hand.

“You need to go with Lycan. I know that you do. You’ve been miserable here.”

“Michael says I must stay.”  Even to his own ears, Rafael sounded sullen and childish, and he realized too late that he should have said that he wanted to stay with his wife.

“I love you, Rafe, and I love Nic. I know what your bond with him means to you,” Melli said, surprising him. He looked at her closely, wondering if someone had removed the shrew he’d been living with and brought back the woman he loved.

“Don’t look so shocked,” she said tartly, tapping him on the cheek. “I’ll talk to Michael. And Lycan, if I have to. How are they getting him to the Third Kingdom?”

Rafe explained the plans to her and she nodded thoughtfully.

“You will be needed to stay there. Colin should return but if Nic is hurt, or just difficult to find, you working together with Lycan will have the best chance. Your bonds with him are very different.”

“What about....?” Rafe was loath to point out the concern over the succession but it was likely to be mentioned by Michael. To his surprise, Melli shook her head firmly.

“I don’t see any risk to you. I see a serious risk to Nic and Lycan if you are not there. There is a need for power, bonded power. Lycan and Nic share one kind, you and Nic another. There is a third but I don’t see that clearly. I will work with Colin and try to get a fix on it.”

Rafe looked at her in amazement. “When did you see all of this?”

“This morning. From what you’ve said, it must have been about the same time as Colin’s vision, which is interesting. I did not know its meaning until you told me your news.”

If there was one thing that drove Rafe crazy, it was the academic way Melli had of looking at the most critical of situations. Nic could be dreamy at the oddest times, but Melli could turn scholarly. She clearly got her ways from Colin; their father said Rafe got his ability to plan and focus from their uncle Adam, who died when they were almost two. When Nic asked who he took after then, Michael used to smile in a wistful way and say it was someone who died at that same time. Rafe used to think he meant their mother, but as he grew older, he came to realize that Michael had been referring to himself. It was difficult to see cold, businesslike Michael as a dreamer, yet Colin assured them that once upon a time, their father had been a dreamy, artistic boy. Both Melli and Colin had seen that boy in visions. Rafe had asked Melli about what she had seen but she’d only shook her head. With tears in her eyes, she’d told him that she thought it was Michael’s secret to share, not hers to tell.

They had seen glimpses of that Michael in the Dance Master who had revealed his full power at the Battle of Candone — but for some reason Michael did not call upon even a fraction of that power often. Rafael and Melli had discussed it — there must be something about it that limited its use, they decided. Whenever they tried to raise the topic with Michael, they found that the subject was changed though they were never quite sure how. Rafe suspected that of all of them, Lycan seemed to know the most about his father’s strange powers but he was loathe to admit to his brother’s mate that he did not know something about his own father. For that same reason, he had not asked Nic, hoping that Nic would tell him of his own accord.

Somehow the opportunity had never arisen. He resolved to ask him — as soon as he got him home again.

Rafe packed a bag quickly. Then, Melli by his side, Rafael went to find Lycan and his father. He was going to insist on going with them to find Nic, not for his own sake, but because it would be what destiny required.
 

**********

“I said no, and that is the end of the discussion!” Michael folded his arms across his chest and looked at his son and daughter-in-law. “Mellisande, need I remind you that you are carrying my son’s children? You will need him here with you when you deliver. And you also need him here to protect you should we suffer another attack.”

Mellisande looked at Michael calmly. She walked to him and, to his surprise, hugged him. She kept a hold on him as she said, “Michael, I know you are concerned. You have every reason to be and I have not been a pillar of strength thus far. But...I know that I will deliver safely. Not easily, but safely. I’ve seen a vision that shows me your grandchildren.” She paused, wondering if she should tell Michael of all of the grandchildren she had seen, but decided that some revelations were not hers to make. She continued, as she saw the visible relaxing of his features, guessing that she was right in thinking that shadows of his past were troubling him, “I will be safe here with you and Colin, as well as Lycan’s brave men. My scrying tells me that our enemies are afraid to attack again as long as we have the Metamorphs on our side. But there is a need for Dominic to have his brother and mate with him...and soon. I’ve seen that clearly. It has to do with the Circle at Tuneric.”

Colin spoke, “Are you sure, Melli? I thought of that as well but it seems far-fetched....”

“I will discuss it with you further, of course, but my studies lead to no other answer, Colin dear. We may be delaying too long as it is.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Michael was confused and did not like the feeling. He was not happy at the idea of plans being changed, especially based on the portents of a pregnant seer. Lycan’s feelings could not be read; he had his expressionless face on. He did ask one question though, in the pause that followed Michael’s question.

“Is Rafael needed for Dominic’s rescue?”

Melli looked him, their eyes meeting. “He is needed for all of us to survive and win this war. Dominic faces a great task, and he will need both of you to aid him, as well as another.”

Lycan turned to Michael. “We have no choice then. Rafael must come with me. Can he teleport me without Colin, to give you more strength here?”

“No, only Colin knows where to take the two of you. Rafe is a better teleporter than I am, which will partially offset the loss of strength in not having me...and you and he should be able to share strength easily due to your mutual bond with Nic, but you do not have the bond to Colin that I do. This is not an even exchange as far as the teleporting goes.”

“Why cannot all four of you go?” Bran asked.

“No!” Michael and Rafe answered, and then looked sheepishly at each other.

Colin spoke quietly in answer to Bran. “We would not want to leave Melli without one of us here, not that we do not believe you would defend her with your life, Bran, and the same goes for your men. We know that. But, we are always guarding with our magic as well as with arms, and that cannot be done without at least one of us here. Melli cannot do it alone and....”

“There are the others though,” Lycan said. Michael looked questioningly at him.

“Fen, the other young ones. They’ve fought well. Can they not sustain your protections for the time needed to make this trip? I want to get going, and if we do not do it soon and stop this talking I am going to start running, but it seems to me if you and Colin but aid Rafe and me, it will be the task of mere minutes, and you will be back. Send a mental message to the strongest of your other mind-twisters and be done with this talk.”

Michael stared for just a moment more, then he looked to Colin.

Do you think that is the right choice?

Yes, Michael, I do.

We are agreed then. I’ll alert the young men, you alert those of the young women you believe can assist Melli, such as Magda – only those beyond question.

Of  course.

“Lycan is right. We’ve talked enough. Let us meet by the center courtyard in five minutes. Colin and I will take Lycan and Rafael.”  Michael turned to Lycan and spoke formally as he made his request. “Will you please assign a detail of your people, led by Bran, to guard the Queen?”

“Of course.” Lycan turned to Mellisande and Rafael and inclined his head regally. “You are Pack to my Pack. Every one of us would lay down his life to preserve the Queen’s well-being. Bran will stay with M’Lady until her kinsmen protectors’ return.”

Bran nodded solemnly. It was odd, Colin thought as he followed Michael’s rapid stride to the spot from where they would teleport. They all knew that Bran would guard Melli faithfully, and that Lycan’s core group of Metamorphs would obey Bran implicitly in Lycan’s absence. Yet, the formality of the request and oath was comforting. Colin could see that Rafael felt much better once it was done. And that was undoubtedly why Michael did it. Not for himself – he had trusted Lycan practically from the first, much as Dominic had. It was Rafe who needed that reassurance that it would be all right if all four of them were gone briefly, even if it was what Melli wanted.

“Michael...”  Colin placed his hand on his love’s arm to get him to slow down.

“We do not have time to discuss matters any further now, Colin. A plan of action has been decided and we must....”

“Michael.”  Colin stepped into a side room and pulled Michael in with him. Michael glared but it was impossible for him to stay angry when looking into those calm gray eyes. He leaned his head down, resting it on Colin’s chest.

“Remember when you would only allow yourself a few minutes to rest in my arms?” Colin asked softly. “I think we have that much time now. It would refresh you then. Let it do so now.”

“I think I have been neglecting such times,” Michael confessed in a low voice, enjoying the feeling of Colin’s strong arms around him. “This is beginning to feel so much like those bad old days. My son is missing. When we did not know where he was, it was bad. But now we know he is hurt and hungry and we need to get to him, but the military man in me worries, is this a trap? Did Dominic escape or was he allowed to escape?”

“I have not seen any indication that there is darkness around him, or darkness approaching this place. We are overly cautious...and I know you will say there is no such thing. But, we must try to get to Dominic. He has to be wondering why we have not done so already.”

“No, he would understand. Dominic will know that he has not reached us clearly. I am concerned with his weakness. I...there is no end to my concerns! And the time for my rest within your arms is over. Thank you, Colin, but we must go...and return quickly. I do not like allowing Rafe to join Lycan. They barely tolerate each other.”

“I think then that there is another reason for them to do this together,” Colin said softly. Michael looked at him questioningly as they left the room and proceeded to the courtyard. “Lycan has done many services for us, and especially for Rafael and Mellisande. His loss of Dominic is greatest, yet he has been most stoic, as suits his people. We have not been fully considerate of his pain.”

Michael spoke slowly. “It is easy to forget he feels it, he is so strong. How wise you are to remind me.”

“You are like that, love. That is how I see it more easily.”

Michael smiled humorlessly but he did clasp Colin’s hand briefly. Colin had long since learned to cherish such small gestures from Michael when they were in public. The most demonstrative of men in private, Michael could seem cold and uncaring when they were in places where others could see them. Melli once had raised her worry to Colin that his affection was not returned, and he had assured her that he was the happiest of men, even if he and her father-in-law seemed no closer in public than the friends they had always been.

They were all gathered together in a short time. Mellisande and Bran stood with them, and Melli passed to them a ceremonial goblet of wine. Colin, as the senior Druid, spoke the blessing, and then the goblet was drunk by each of the men who were traveling.

Rafael gave his wife a last hug and kiss. “Be safe, do not take any risks,” he cautioned her, his voice stern. “Wait for father and Colin’s return and do not leave Bran’s side.”

“Yes, dear,” she said with exaggerated sweetness.

“Last time she had instructions like that she engaged in a demon battle,” Michael grumbled.

“May we leave now?” Lycan asked, his impatience to be on his way to Dominic finally beginning to give way to temper. Colin nodded, and Rafe and Michael linked hands with them.

Lycan felt the swirling sense of disorientation that he’d experienced several times before, but this time it lasted for much longer. He had a sense of Rafael in his head, reassuring him, of Michael grumbling and asking if they would be there soon, and over it all, the calming essence of Colin’s consciousness, guiding and anchoring them.

The landing was rough. Lycan took some comfort from the fact that it was Michael who was bent over retching, not him, though he felt sympathy for the man. He knew their Pack Sire absolutely hated teleporting. To travel this distance with such a large group – only his love for his sons would make Michael do it.

“How long did that take?” he asked Rafe, since Colin was tending to Michael. “The sun would indicate we have arrived in the mid-afternoon, before we left. But that cannot be!”

“The Third Kingdom lies far to the West,” Rafe answered. “The sun travels from the East to the West; it takes it three turns of the sundial to make it from the harbors of the First Kingdom to the land’s end of the Third Kingdom. Druids first charted the time five hundred years ago, making the trip in less than five minutes. We probably took a little longer than that since we are a large group.”

Lycan was impressed. “You have all this scholarly learning? Like the Druids?”

Rafe smiled slightly. “Well, not like the Druids. Colin is much more knowledgeable. But I have learned a lot from him. Nic too. He taught us about this history when we were boys.”

“Of course, they did not learn nearly as much as he tried to teach them,” Michael commented dryly, straightening up.

This would be the point where Nic would interject a joke in response to Michael’s comment, Colin thought. Without him, Michael’s teasing was taken as a reprimand by the more serious Rafael. Michael would not have meant it as such, it was merely that his brand of teasing was so dry, it took Nic’s humor to bring the requisite light touch.

Just then, however, Lycan murmured, almost under his breath, “And here I had been thinking the Pup did all his studying on that Island he talked about, Keltan, Kelwan….”

Rafael and Michael broke into surprised laughter while Colin blushed at first. When he looked at his bond-son’s smirk, he relaxed and retorted, “I trust you are not complaining about where Nic chose to focus his studies.”

“No complaints at all. I think he must have been one of the top students in some areas,” Lycan grinned and Rafe groaned.

“Please! Don’t let either of them get started, Colin!”

“You think I have power over them?” Colin smiled, relieved to see some of the tension leave Rafael’s face, his protests notwithstanding. Lycan would take good care of Dominic’s brother. In a way, it would be good for Rafe to get away from the family for awhile. He would be doing something active to help Nic, and he would have a break from the cares of being a newlywed. Even for a couple as suited as Rafael and Mellisande, perhaps especially with couples so well-suited, there were…squabbles…when the nature of the relationship changed. Before, they always had Nic as a buffer between their two very intense personalities. With him gone, and together so much, it was a strain on them. Together with their guilt over Nic’s kidnapping, the pressure on their marriage was very high.

Michael turned to both young men. He put his hands out and clasped one of their hands each.

“Colin and I must be heading back to the palace. Lycan, Rafael has a good knowledge of the geography of this Kingdom from his studies with Colin. Let him guide when it comes to getting to a certain known area. But Rafe, Lycan has a natural talent for finding his way and tracking, as well as many years of actual experience in this type of world. Once you get near to the area you are seeking, follow his lead in looking for Nic. I would expect Nic to be leaving signs for you if he can. Depending on who his captors were, he may leave signs more easily readable by one or the other of you — or neither of you. Use your best judgment. And above all, remember that Dominic loves you both and is counting on you to love each other. Do not fight with each other.”

They both nodded. Lycan looked at Rafael and then back at Michael, a troubled look in his eyes. “I wish there to be an understanding. If trouble finds us that is larger than we can handle — I want you to order my bond-brother to use his magic to return to you and his mate.”

Michael frowned while Rafael immediately protested. “I am not a coward! I am not going to run away and leave you in a battle!”

Before Michael could speak, Lycan turned angrily, and looked as though he were going to strike Rafe. Colin stepped forward but it was Michael who grabbed his bondson and pulled him forward, to face him again. His eyes were flashing but it was toward his son that he addressed his words primarily.

“I just said no fighting. But, Rafael, I can see why Lycan is angry. I am almost ready to discipline you myself. Explain, Lycan, show my son how you have learned our ways already, ways he seems to have forgotten.”  Colin realized that Michael had grabbed Lycan to calm him, and it was with difficulty that Lycan reined in his temper and spoke more temperately to them of a memory that was clearly still painful to him.

“Yes, Pack Sire. When I met my mate, he ran from me and abandoned his brother. I called him a coward when I caught him and my anger was increased by what I saw then as his disgraceful conduct. I believed that he had left his brave brother behind and run away to save himself. I almost killed him, my Soulmate, in my anger. But, Bran pointed out to me later, it was my Mate who had attacked to save this one instead of trying to help himself when we first stopped them, and that it was this one who called for the attack.  Bran also believed it was this one,” Lycan nodded toward Rafe, still not willing to say his name or look at him, “who ordered the Cub...Dominic…to run.  I was told by Dominic, who was in great fear for his brother’s life and cared not for his own that night that it takes more courage sometimes to do your duty than to face a battle. Even one with a beast like me.” Lycan was finally calm enough to smile reminiscently.

“So like Nic,” Rafe whispered through a throat choked with tears that he fought to hold back.

“Nic knew his duty. He did not stay with you that night though it almost killed him to leave you behind,” Michael said sternly. “And he did not take the actions he did on the day of your wedding without ensuring that you were safe…and that the line was secured. He was doing what he believed was necessary, what he had been taught since childhood to do, act first to save the Emory line, to preserve the Throne. Lycan accepted his charge to keep you safe on that day when he would much rather have stayed with Nic, but the goddess only knows what may have happened if he had not been there. We know that they fear Metamorphs — maybe they would have somehow managed to make it directly to you if Lycan had not obeyed his King — your King. They used strange dark Druid magic that day. Enough talk. Lycan is right. He is merely ensuring that you will abide by your duty the same way your brother did his.”
ol
Still Rafe hesitated. Colin put a comforting arm around him but Michael was not in a comforting mood — images of a hurt, cold Nic were in his mind and he had no more patience.

“I will demand your word on this, Rafael. If Lycan orders you to leave, which as your Protector he is right to do so, since you are the Heir and the Regent, will you leave? If you do not give me your word, then I will stay with him and you will go back with Colin. That will not be as optimal for getting Dominic home, but it is better than risking both of you. Anymore than we already are, that is.”

I assume you agree with me? Michael was curt sounding even in his thoughts, Colin noticed, his heart sinking. This mission was not starting off well.

I would like to ask for a blessing before we leave.

You are not serious…of course you are serious. Add a prayer that Rafael agree to my request or you and I will not be seeing each other for some time and the portents Mellisande was concerned about will not be followed. With a heavy sigh, Michael announced to the other two, who were glaring at each other still, “Colin wishes to seek the goddess’ blessing. I agree that we need it.”

Lycan bowed his head immediately. Next to Colin, in his own simple way, Lycan was the most devout of all of them, Michael once again was forced to admit, though Michael had his own way of worshipping. Colin was making much the same observation. While he trusted that the goddess enjoyed Michael’s form of worship — the legends he had been studying said that she created the Dance Master because of her love of dance, but the twins and even Melli had always been a bit lax in their observances. Not so the Metamorphs. While they did not follow all of the practices that the Telepaths did, those they did follow, they were faithful to, and sincere about.

We can learn a great deal from his people, Colin shared the thought with Michael.

I have already reached the same conclusion. Once again, I find myself thinking how well Nic chose his mate.

The goddess …and his father…chose wisely for him.

Silence met that thought. Colin bowed his head, trusting Michael and Rafael to follow suit.

“Goddess of the land and water, ruler of the air and all we know and know not, we ask your blessing on your servants, Lycan and Rafael, in their search for our son, mate and brother, your servant, Dominic. Preserve him and them, and bring them together, in peace and safety, to serve your ways. We ask this of you as the Mother and Guardian of All, blessings be upon us and thanks be to you this day and all days.”

“Blessings be to us and thanks be to the goddess,” they repeated after him; then they repeated the blessing and thanks three more times, once in each direction, ending in the West.

The blessing went far in calming Lycan and Rafael, Michael realized, and he gave his own thanks for the wisdom of his partner. Whenever he had wanted to knock sense into the boys over the years, Colin had always known when a softer approach would work.

As now. Rafael spoke quietly to him, and then to Lycan. “I give you my word, Michael, to obey my duty, and to obey Lycan as my Protector. Lycan, forgive me for my words. I know my brother to be one of the bravest men alive — he chose you as his lifemate after all.” Rafael ended his comments with a sly smile, and in that moment looked so much like Nic that the other three men were startled.  And Lycan’s last bit of anger melted away. He lifted Rafe with one of his brief crushing hugs.

A few minutes after that, Rafael and Lycan were ready to begin their journey. They looked at each other.

“Let’s head for the mountains. Nic’s up there somewhere and he needs us,” Lycan said grimly. Rafe nodded. Hoisting their packs to their backs, they bid Michael and Colin farewell and set off.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Colin linked arms with Michael. “Ready to head home?”

Making a face, Michael leaned closer. “Would that I dared dance us back,” he murmured.

“You can do that?” Colin asked.

“You didn’t think I gained my own familiarity with these lands by teleporting here, did you?” Michael grinned briefly. “My Mentor brought me on many travels when I was younger, when I could get away from the Second Kingdom Court. We did not always travel by horse. But I am in a period of repentance, so I cannot take us back that way, even if Candone had not depleted me. If I had any power to use, trust me, I would be using it to find Nic, not to show off my power to you nor save myself an unpleasant Teleport, though saving you the strain would be a worthy goal to please the goddess….”

Michael’s voice ended on a more thoughtful note, as though asking himself. Colin was quick to respond, “I am not too tired, but I would like you to explain more of your powers to me…if that is permitted. Any way that we can use them to aid in finding Nic must be pleasing to the goddess.”

Michael nodded and then braced himself for the spell — nothing that Colin could say about relaxing into it to make it easier ever convinced him that bracing just made it worse. Colin sighed again and tried to make the long teleport as easy as possible. And caught back Michael’s long hair upon their arrival so that he could vomit more comfortably.

To think that a Dance Master could travel such distances through dance! No wonder Michael disliked teleporting!

 

************
 

“Do you think you could show me to where the standing stones are — even if they are no longer standing?” Dominic looked out over the cold gray landscape as he posed his question to Lydia. Winter seemed to be early this year. It would be, he thought ruefully, feeling the wind’s bite through his thin clothes. He always had thought of the Third Kingdom as warm and sunny when Colin spoke of it in their classroom back on the Island. Of course, that was because Colin usually mentioned it in the context of it having summer when their land was in the depths of winter. This land was chill and inhospitable at the moment. He missed his island home, where even winters were relatively mild, compared to the mountains of the Second Kingdom and Forests of the Third, which were so different from those of the First.

“I could take you there,” Lydia said doubtfully. “But why would you want to go? It is a sad place. Even the druids avoid it. There is much darkness in the land and it hovers near spots like that, where the goddess has been abandoned. We should travel into the forest and seek what hunting can be found before winter is upon us.”

“I cannot,” Nic told her, an apologetic smile on his face. “I do not ask that you stay with me. You have already been more than generous to me. But there is a task I must do. And it will be easier at the standing stones. If you could point me in the right direction?”

Lydia shook her head impatiently. Of course she would go with Nicon. He was still too thin, his bones sticking out, his hip bones sharp enough to…. She stopped herself as she saw his smile. Grinning back at him, she said, “I believe I could be convinced to go with you. It is crazy, but it is not my place to sway the mind of someone who is goddess kissed.”

Dominic cocked an eyebrow inquisitively. “Goddess kissed?”

Lydia began to pack their meager supplies. She talked as she worked. “It is a phrase we Changing People have for those who are drawn by destiny to do great deeds. Or perhaps just very odd seeming deeds, the importance of which may not be known for some time.”

Dominic considered Lydia’s words. It was a stirring thought, one that made the troubles he had just been through seem a small price to have paid to have the honor of doing the goddess a service.  He considered himself a mere man, yes, one with a special duty by virtue of his birth, but he took that for granted, it was something that had always been true. He had never doubted that Michael and Colin would find a way for Rafe, Melli and him to return to the Kingdoms. The battles last fall, with Lycan at his side, even the horror at Candone, it was exhilarating and dangerous, and truly sobering at times, but he never really doubted that they would triumph in the end. It was his destiny.

This journey alone, well, with Lydia now for company and help, but alone insofar as none of his family was with him — it had the feel of something different.  Having gone from being half of a twin, to being bonded, Dominic had never known what it was like to be on his own like he was on this…for want of a better word…adventure. Pelien may have been right, that it was the right thing for him, and it was meant for him to find his way alone. For the first time in his life, Dominic was feeling his way without a Protector or an Advisor, with only his belief in his visions and his faith in the goddess and his own Destiny to guide him. He might have allies for a time, such as Ben, and now Lydia, but ultimately it was his judgment and strength that mattered.  It was both heady and frightening.

“I would be grateful for your companionship,” Nic told Lydia, returning her grin. “But before we get close to the circle, I think I need to devise a way to clothe you. While I am a well-traveled man who is accustomed to Metamorph beauty, some Druids and humans live very sheltered lives.”

Lydia threw back her head and laughed freely, the sound brightening the morning. ‘How perfect it would have been if Rafe had fallen in love with a mate like Lydia,’ Nic thought, and immediately felt disloyal toward Melli for thinking it. He loved Melli like a sister. But Lydia was so much like Lycan, Nic could not help but think that she would have made a wonderful fourth to the duel pairing of his brother, Lycan and he.

“Well, if we do not find any clothing for me, I can always be your pet wolf,” she suggested. Fortunately, she turned away and did not see the pang of pain that her light-hearted comment caused Nic.  His father had so often teasingly called Lycan, Nic’s Pet Wolf. Several times he had almost told Lydia of Lycan, but each time, something had stayed his tongue. Perhaps it was his own guilty feeling over having lain with her when he was bonded. He sensed that she was overly fond of him, although he noticed that she too avoided discussing his home. Perhaps she did not want to know if he had a mate.

“I think this is it. Are you ready, Nicon?”

“More than ready. A half moon’s cycle in that cave was more than enough time for it to lose its charm,” Nic told her, grinning.  “Do you want to shift, and I will see how long I can keep up with you?”

She looked at him skeptically but nodded. He took the pack and they headed out, taking a path back down the mountain, but in a different direction from that which Nic had taken to get to the cave. His leg ached a little but he had once more used up his store of mana to heal it, surprising Lydia with his speedy recovery. He hoped that if he made it to the Circle in a couple days’ time without incident, his mana levels would be back to normal and he would be able to summon his family to him.  More than that, he could not say. He just knew that he was needed at that Circle.

 

**********

When Lycan finally signaled that they would be taking a break, Rafael threw himself on the ground, exhausted. He thought they must have run at least twenty leagues without pause for more than a gulp or two of water every so often.

“Move around, let your muscles adjust to not running or they will make you sorry,” Lycan advised as he crouched down and set to work on their campfire immediately. Rafe glared at him.

“My muscles are happy to not be running. They are groaning their pleasure to me,” he assured him. “Is this how you treated Nic when you were together last year?”

Lycan seemed to take a deep breath and hold it, while he sat back on his haunches and considered the side of the stones he was placing in a circle. Rafe thought perhaps he should apologize for his comment — it was thoughtless — when the big man surprised him by smiling reminiscently.

“Nic complained almost constantly. He never would have run that far without making me stop to feed him…and for other reasons.  The only thing that would have kept him running so hard, was when he was running to your rescue.”

“Then he would not have complained,” Rafe said, abashed.

Lycan smiled, his teeth shining in the fading light of the setting sun. “Oh, he still complained. Long and loudly. But he would not have stopped any sooner than we have. You are both devoted to each other. No one doubts that, Rafael Emory.”

“I am sorry, Lycan. I do not know what is wrong with me these days.”

“Your brother is in the hands of your enemies. It is enough. Your brother was never so serious as when he could not reach you. I feared for him when he could not reach you with his mind. Be glad that you have had your bondmate, and that she is one you have known your whole life. Nic was in a strange land with a mate he hardly knew when he could not reach you or your fathers. He…bore it bravely. But do not doubt — he would tell you that to be without your twin is a harsh trial.”

And it was, Rafe reflected. The Emory twins had grown up in seclusion, where everyone and everything had to be analyzed, and where their father and mentor were two very complex men, given to strategies and counter-espionage. It was no wonder that Nic had been so drawn to this strong, simple, but smart man, Rafe realized. For a long while he had believed that the attraction between his brother and his mate was purely physical, and Michael and Colin both had chided him, assuring him that he was very wrong.  He was beginning to realize that they were right…as always.

“How may I help?” Rafe struggled to his knees. His muscles screamed in protest. They had stiffened more than he had ever experienced and it took all his will power not to cry out in pain. He closed his eyes, though, as he gritted his teeth and tried to overcome his pain. The next thing he knew, strong hands were lifting him up and carrying him to a folded blanket on the ground. He made a faint protest.

“I can help! I mean, I want to help. What can I do?”

“What you are to do is to follow my advice, as I recall your Sire’s orders. Right now, I am ordering you to lie still. I have started the fire and water to boil. I will catch something for our meal in a short while. First I will massage your muscles or you will be unable to run tomorrow. Do not worry. This will not be enjoyable.”

Lycan spoke honestly. If Rafe thought he was going to receive a massage such as Michael gave Colin or he gave his wife, he was soon relieved of that misapprehension. This massage hurt.  Strong fingers pressed deeply, kneading the aching muscles, forcing the poison out of them, is what Lycan said. He kept up a steady, low murmur of conversation, and his deep voice proved a good distraction from the pain in his muscles, Rafe found. It gave him something to focus on, without having to concentrate too hard.

Rafe fell asleep. He could not believe it, but awakening some time later, he had to concede that one cannot awaken without having first been asleep. Tentatively moving a limb, he was surprised to find that he no longer was as stiff and the pain was gone. Lycan knew what he was doing, he had to admit. Which, he supposed, made sense. They did not do all of their running as wolves, and the Metamorphs ran long distances.  He had just never taken the time to think about it. Sitting up, he saw that the sun had set but the moon was giving a good amount of light, as was the campfire Lycan had built. He had set it up properly to allow it to be enhanced and sustained by magic once Rafael thought to do so, which he did now.  

“Do not increase the fire too much just yet or you will burn the fine stew I have made,” Lycan chided mildly. “It is not often I cook so consider yourself honored, bondbrother. I once was quite good at it and Dominic taught me some of the herbs to add to make it more palatable to your tongues.”

Lycan was making a real effort, Rafael realized. He could do no less. He looked up and smiled, a genuine smile.

“My thanks to you, bondbrother.  The food smells very good.”

Lycan had to swallow hard. Smiling with genuine warmth as he just did, Rafael looked much more like his own Cub than he ever had to Lycan.  The pain of missing Nic was never far from his consciousness, but he knew how to push it aside in order to focus on the task at hand. At the moment, he had a job to do. One that he hoped would bring him closer to Dominic — no, not closer. He hoped that it would soon bring Dominic into his arms.

The two men did not talk much as they ate. The long run had made them hungry and they cleaned up every bit of the stew. Lycan knew that they should lie close together for Rafe’s warmth but he was not sure how to broach the topic without risking offending this touchy bondbrother. To his surprise, it was Rafael who brought the subject up.  After they had finished eating, and were readying for the night, he looked at Lycan and spoke a bit shyly.

“Nic told me that you kept each other warm on the road.  I cannot be as Nic for you but I can give you my body warmth.”

Lycan could only nod. This time it was Rafe who was the one who was sure of himself. He made a space for himself on Lycan’s blanket and lay down close to the big man. He tucked his head against Lycan’s chest and waited. Soon enough, a sinewy arm came around and pulled him close. A deep voice whispered, “Sleep well, bondbrother.”

And in fact, Rafael found that he did sleep well, not waking until the sun was breaking the horizon the next morning, turning it the color of the Emory twins’ eyes. Lycan got up quickly to hunt, leaving Rafael to make the fire. Neither of them spoke. Neither found it necessary.

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