Savage Satisfaction (5 page)

He drove back to the house, in total disregard for the
warnings on the pill bottle, arriving well after midnight.

He staggered up the stairs only to stop halfway.

It had been ten hours since he fed Mirela and Christoffer.

His bed cried out to him, his legs were weary and his head
started to spin from the drugs. They would be fine until morning. He could
ignore them and go to bed.

He turned to the kitchen.

His grandfather would no doubt have left them as they were,
but William couldn’t bring himself to do so.

He threw storage containers of sliced meats and cheese into
a bag along with bread and a few bottles of water.

The walk to the pen seemed endless. He tripped several times,
though even in the dark he knew every inch of this land. He pulled the exterior
door key from his pocket and let himself in.

“Close your eyes.”

Despite the warning Christoffer opened his eyes at the exact
moment William turned the lights on. He hissed and snapped his eyes closed,
rubbing them.

“Sorry,” William murmured. There was rustle, then a crash.
“Damn.”

Christoffer sat up, blinking. William was standing just
inside the door, leaning against the wall. A bag had fallen from his hand,
bottles of water and plastic containers spilling from it. Christoffer took a
deep whiff and caught the scent of ham—sugar glazed and roasted to be precise.
His stomach rumbled.

“Food.” William’s legs gave out and the Lord of Eahrington
collapsed to the floor. Christoffer ran to him, but he was too far away from
the bars for him to help.

“Throw me the key,” he said. William’s face was nearly as
white as the gauze pad that covered his cheek. He hadn’t showered. Christoffer
could see and smell the blood dried on his neck.

“I don’t trust you,” William said.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Christoffer’s heart was racing.
His Alpha was in trouble, in pain—weak and in need of protection. He had to
help him. “Give me the key. You need help.”

“I’m a fool,” William said, but his hand disappeared into
his pocket and he tossed a key toward Christoffer.

Christoffer let himself out and ran to William’s side. The
man whom only yesterday had seemed cold and fearsome now looked like a pale
medieval knight, wasting away from a mortal blow.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Yes. I’m fine, it’s the pills that are making me, making
me… Whatever.”

Christoffer barked out a laugh. It was the first time the
prim Lord Eahrington hadn’t sounded like a poster-boy for British public school.
Christoffer helped him to sit up with his back against the wall. William closed
his eyes.

“What are you on?” Christoffer asked him, laugh fading to a
smile.

William fished a bottle out of his pocket and held it up.

“Norco? Hello, my pretty,” Christoffer said, taking the
bottle. He twisted the cap off, fished one out and dry swallowed it. William’s
left eye was open, regarding him balefully. “Just a little something to take
the edge off,” he told William with a smile.

“Brilliant,” William said, letting his head fall back
against the wall. “I have a gay druggie werewolf.”

“Wrong on all three,” Christoffer replied cheerfully. “I’m
bi, I can quit whenever I want and we don’t call ourselves werewolves.”

William snorted. “Aren’t you going to grab the other keys
and run for it? I couldn’t stop you.”

“I wish I could.”

“Why can’t you?”

“You’re my Alpha.”

“You said that before but I don’t understand.”

“And if I tell you now you won’t remember, so let’s wait.”
Christoffer said it with a smile, but part of him hoped to avoid it forever. He
was afraid of letting Lord William know exactly how much power and control an
Alpha had.

He sat next to William, their shoulders touching.
Christoffer picked up a bottle of water and glugged it down, then dug into the
sliced ham. He was parched and starving. He ate in silence for five minutes,
consuming almost all of the food. He left some chicken and a piece of bread for
Mirela, though he could easily have eaten them.

“How is she?” William asked.

“Annoying.” Christoffer felt William jerk in surprise.
“Well, she is. She goes on and on about how obedient she is, and she lectured
me on obedience earlier, and then she flips when asked to do something she
doesn’t like.”

“She’s young,” William said.

“And stupid.”

“You’re not what I expected.”

“Neither are you. I was planning to run away,” Christoffer
said conversationally, “after a month or so. We don’t really need your
protection anymore.”

“Yes, you do. I provided the bribe money that got the wolf
zone established.”

Christoffer cursed inwardly. The wolf zone was protected
land and critical to his family. “Thanks for that, but you know if we go
outside it they shoot us from helicopters.”

“I’m working on that,” William said sleepily. His head was
nodding forward onto his chest. Christoffer carefully shifted it so that it lay
on his shoulder. The older man sighed, his face, which had been tight with
pain, smoothing out as he drifted to sleep.

“Wolf?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Do not leave me.”

Christoffer’s heart panged. “Never, my lord.”

Christoffer eased William’s head down onto the food bag,
which he’d turned into a makeshift pillow. He brushed William’s dark hair from
his forehead. He was a handsome man, and nice enough when he relaxed.

The meds had given Christoffer a mellow buzz. He looked over
at Mirela, who hadn’t moved. Either she was pretending to sleep or really was
so tired she’d passed out. Letting himself into Mirela’s cell, he put his hand
on her arm. He could see tear marks on her cheeks and his heart clenched. He
really hated it when girls cried.

“Take this,” he whispered, handing her the food.

Her eyes were open but he could tell she wasn’t really
awake. He was relieved, literally, to find that the strange outcropping in the
wall of Mirela’s cell was a tiny bathroom. There was a toilet and a sink, no
shower and a second door led out of the bathroom into the other cell.

Feeling much better after a good pee, Christoffer left
Mirela’s cell, locking it behind him, and returned to William. He didn’t even
pause to look at the exterior door. He would never leave his Alpha.

“You have keys.” Mirela was sitting up, ripping the chicken
into little pieces and watching him.

“He almost passed out when he walked in.”

“Let me out.”

“No, Mirela.”

“He told you to keep me locked up?”

“He didn’t need to. The only reason I have the keys is that
he needs help.”

“I will help him.”

“You’re the reason he’s in pain. You’re the reason he’s so
doped up that he’s passed out.”

“I want to help make it right.”

“That’s your problem. It doesn’t involve me.”

“But if you let me out I can help you.”

Christoffer shook his head. Settling down on the floor, he
took William’s head onto his lap, then reached up and turned out the lights.

“Change,” William intoned.

Hiding his amusement at William’s solemn command, Christoffer
stripped off his clothes, throwing them carelessly to the side. When he looked
up he caught William staring at his cock.

“See something you like?” he teased, even as he dropped to
his hands and knees.

William’s response was lost amid the whipping wind that
surrounded Christoffer. The scents of the forest caused a pang of longing so
strong it was nearly a physical hurt. He’d been in this godforsaken building
for a week, seeing the outdoors only when William came or left. He wanted to
run, wanted to smell the trees and earth.

Once he was a wolf, Christoffer padded over to William. The
world was stripped of much of its color, but in exchange he could smell and
hear things utterly lost to him as a human.

He pressed his nose to William’s leg and sniffed. The lord
smelled of washing powder, fabric softener and wool. Beneath that was the scent
of the man himself, his sweat and musk.

William smelled like an Alpha should, strong and powerful.
The clothing, with its annoying fake scents, got in the way. On instinct,
Christoffer pressed his nose to William’s crotch and sniffed. Here his scent
was stronger and there was a hint of sex. Had he fucked recently or had he just
jacked off?

William pushed Christoffer’s nose away. The lord was growing
bolder with his touches. Those first few days he’d been hesitant, and with good
reason. As a wolf, Christoffer’s shoulders came up to William’s waist. He was
far bigger than a wolf in the wild would be. Like modern humans compared to
ancient counterparts, generations of good nutrition and health care had allowed
the wolves of Christoffer’s pack to grow larger.

William presented his hand to Christoffer, who licked it.

“Christoffer,” William said on a sigh.

Christoffer laughed, which came out as a huffing noise. He
opened his mouth and took William’s wrist between his teeth. He held it there
for a moment, not hurting him.

William withdrew his wrist. “Good.”

Christoffer dropped his head and puffed out a breath, the
wolf equivalent of an eye roll. William’s plan for training, a rather stupid
plan in Christoffer’s opinion, involved moves most often seen with lion tamers.
If William tried to put his head in Christoffer’s mouth, Christoffer was going
to say something. Something like “This is stupid”.

For now he was happy to play along. These sessions were his
only entertainment. The rest of the time they were left locked up in their
cages. Christoffer had been moved into the second small cage next to Mirela so
he could access the bathroom. William had provided stacks of newspapers, magazines
and books, but Christoffer had never been much of a reader. His favorite times
were when William would stay and talk, though he wasn’t an easy
conversationalist, at least not when Mirela was awake.

When she slept William would sit down, his back to the wall,
and relax. Once he stopped being the Lord of Eahrington and started being
William the conversation flowed. Each night William stopped by to tell
Christoffer the cricket scores and repeat the highlights. More than once
Christoffer had to bite back a comment on how nice it would be to see the games
for himself. Why he was being punished for Mirela’s crime he didn’t know, and
he wasn’t going to ask.

Any mention of freedom would surely break the trust they’d
found.

“Change back,” William intoned.

When Christoffer was again human he rose from his crouch,
brushing his hands together.

William regarded him calmly, his gaze pointedly above the
waist. “You think this is useless, don’t you?”

The question caught Christoffer by surprise. “What, the
training?”

“Yes.”

Christoffer wanted to lie but couldn’t. “Yeah, I do.”

William nodded. “Why?”

“Because these are stupid tricks. If you really want to
trust me, and know if I trust you, I need to run. Send me into the forest and
see if I come to your whistle. Let me show you respect by hunting a stag for
you. Those are wolf things. This,” he gestured at the pen, “this is for
training circus animals. Where did you get these ideas?”

Christoffer thought he could see the faintest blush on
William’s left cheek and almost groaned aloud. He had been using a lion-taming
book or something.

“You’re right,” William said, “and it was always my plan to
do those things. I just had to familiarize myself with you first.”

“Of course, my lord.” Christoffer bowed.

“Sod off,” William said sourly. He pulled a covered plate
from a bag near the door and gave it to Christoffer, along with cutlery wrapped
in a napkin. Christoffer sighed. Figures that William would give the caged
animals plastic silverware wrapped in monogrammed linen napkins.

William took the other plate to Mirela, tipping it to get it
through the bars.

She took it, head bowed.

“What about me, my lord?” she asked, and her voice startled
them both. She hadn’t said anything beyond a few thank yous this past week.

“To what are you referring?” William asked, voice cold.

She flinched at his response and with a trembling voice
continued, “When will you train me?”

“After that last attempt I am hesitant to do anything with
you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Of course.” Her eyes were glistening with tears. It made
her almost unbearably lovely.

“Are you sorry you didn’t escape?”

“No, I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t want that.”

“It was a mistake you gouged my face?” William asked,
indicating his bandage.

“No, I mean yes. It’s true I was… I was aiming for your
face, but that was a mistake. I should not have done it.”

“Then why did you?”

“I need to fly,” she said quietly. “You were stopping me
from that. It was instinct.”

“If your instinct is to attempt to blind me, then you will
continue to stay as you are.” He turned away.

She’d walked right into that trap, Christoffer thought,
wincing a little for her. There was nothing she could say that made it better.
Either she’d done it knowingly, in which case she was dangerous, or she’d done
it by instinct, in which case she couldn’t be trusted.

Your instincts haven’t been tested
, a malevolent
inner voice reminded him.
It’s easy to obey while locked in this room, but
what about in the forest, when you give over mind and body to the wolf? Will he
still smell like Alpha, and will that protect him, or will he smell like human,
weak and tasty?

“Please, my lord!” Mirela was pressed against the bars.
William hadn’t returned her clothes, so her trim waist and breasts were on
display. Christoffer felt a bolt of lust as he looked at her. She was gorgeous,
and rather helpless and supple-looking—just the way he liked women.

William stopped, his back to her. “Perhaps we will try
again. In a few days.”

She opened her mouth to protest but Christoffer glared at
her. Honestly, the girl didn’t know when to quit. His lust faded as his general
annoyance with her returned.

William bowed his head to Christoffer. “Tomorrow we’ll go
out, into the woods.”

Christoffer couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his
face. William frowned. “Don’t make me regret this,” he said, letting himself
out and locking the door securely.

* * * * *

“The collar stays on until we’ve come to the location of my
choosing. Do not try to run. The gun is loaded. Especially do not try to run
when you are human, as the tranquilizers in the gun are for horses and might
kill you.”

Christoffer warily regarded the rifle draped over William’s
back. It was very big and very black. Christoffer didn’t like guns.

“You’re not going to shoot me, are you?” He desperately
wanted to get out, but he also didn’t want to get shot. In here and alive was
better than out there and dead.

“Not unless you make me.” William unlocked Christoffer’s
cell and let him out. Mirela was pressed against the bars, her face a study in longing.
Christoffer glared at her to remind her to keep her foolish mouth shut.

William unlocked the front door and motioned Christoffer
out. For the first time in a week, Christoffer felt the sun on his face.

It wasn’t until that moment he realized how greatly he’d
been suffering from being cooped up inside. He could go weeks without changing
into a wolf, as there were very few cities with parks wooded enough for him to
run in, but during those weeks the wildly careening life he led satisfied the
wildness of his dual nature.

The quiet boredom of this week had been painful.

“This way,” William said.

Christoffer followed him into the woods that butted up
against their little home, which Christoffer had several times heard William
refer to as the “pen”. He’d forced himself to laugh at that.

Branches and leaves cracked underfoot. It was early autumn
in England and there was a bite to the air. The simple shirt and jeans, which
reeked because he’d been wearing them all week, were little protection from the
cold.

A gust of wind brought the scent of deer—so strong he could
smell it even as a human—and Christoffer stopped.

“What is it?” William asked.

“I can smell the deer.”

“They’re kept inside a fenced area. They’re a protected
herd.”

Protected? Now was probably not the time to tell William
he’d killed and eaten one the first day he was here.

“Though a carcass was found a few days ago. Tell me, would
you be able to smell another predator?”

William looked over his shoulder as he asked the question,
and something on Christoffer’s face must have given away his thoughts. William
sighed and said, “Do not kill any more deer. The last thing I want is someone
reporting this to the Environment Agency.”

“I was hungry.”

They trekked for another five minutes before William
stopped. Christoffer was vibrating in anticipation. All around him were things
that he couldn’t make out as a human but could as a wolf. He wanted to
experience the forest the way he was meant to—on four paws.

“I’m going to climb up there,” William said, pointing to a
hide—a hunting platform—about ten feet up in one of the trees. “I will watch
you from there.”

“You will not be able to see much.”

“I warned you not to run from me.” William’s hand rested on
the strap of the gun.

“Whoa, don’t shoot. I’m saying that you won’t be able to
pick me out. As a wolf I’m nearly invisible in the forest.”

“You’re not small. I’ll be able to see you.”

“Think so?” Christoffer smiled. “How about a game? I’ll stay
near this tree, and every time you see me yell ‘bang’ and point at where you
think I am. I’ll try to get as close to the tree as possible without being
seen. If I get within, say, two meters, I’ll howl. Whoever gets the most wins.”

“And what’s the prize?” William slipped the wooden icon
between the emblems of Christoffer’s collar and it popped open. William took it
from Christoffer’s neck. The skin-to-skin contact sent shudders through the
younger man.

“Doesn’t matter,” Christoffer said with a shrug. He pulled
off his shirt as he toed off his shoes. William hadn’t given the direct order
but it was implied, and Christoffer couldn’t wait another minute. “But just to
make it interesting,” he said as he shucked his jeans and boxers, “let’s say a
kiss.”

Grinning, he dropped to his knees and changed.

William stepped back as the baseless wind swirled around
them. The golden-haired boy melted away and in his place was a massive wolf
with pale-blond legs that darkened to a gray back and muzzle.

The wolf nudged William’s hip with his head, then bounded
into the woods.

William shook his head as he climbed the ladder onto the
circular hide. It had been years since it was used—to hunt a deer that had been
injured escaping the fenced-in area and needed to be put down—but the wood
held.

A kiss? He’d begun to suspect that the boy had feelings for
him—romantic feelings. That made him uncomfortable for several reasons. He’d
spent one morning researching Stockholm syndrome, afraid the boy was “beginning
to identify with the captor”, but somehow the situation didn’t seem to fit.

More importantly, William was straight. The boy’s crush was
doomed to disappointment. He was not, and never had been, interested in men.
Knowing how the boy felt made William uncomfortable. He wanted to say he was
flattered and dismiss it, but couldn’t make himself discuss it.

He was afraid what that discussion might lead to.

Christoffer was a strange mix of outrageous Continental
gigolo and rock-steady soldier. William had been so sure that the wolf would be
the greater problem, especially after his first meeting with Christoffer, that
he was still thrown by the relationship developing between them.

Relationship wasn’t the word he wanted. That
implied…something. Something William didn’t want.

He’d yet to bring up Christoffer calling him “Alpha”. He
knew what the term meant, of course, but not what rights or powers it carried
with it.

William had been intently watching the bushes, walking in a
slow circle around the tree so he wouldn’t miss any angle. It had been nearly
five minutes since Christoffer changed.

Had it all been an elaborate ruse? Was the boy gone, never
to be heard from again? The very idea brought bile to William’s throat. He’d
been wrong, painfully so, about the falcon, who’d fooled him with her demure
demeanor and beauty. Had the wolf’s obedience, teasing and conversation been a
ploy to get William to release him?

The howl that erupted startled William so badly he nearly
fell out of the tree.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he said, heart racing.

Christoffer emerged from the undergrowth exactly where
William had been looking. The wolf lifted its nose and made a huffing noise.
Was he laughing?