Summer, pack leader and wolfhound, takes her girls out on a camping trip next to a wilderness preserve. Out on a trail, she catches the scent of terrified omega minutes before an enormous, smelly, horribly injured, and exhausted wolf tumbles onto the path. He begs her protection from the two alphas hot on his trail. She has to decide if the uncivilized stranger (who is very much not her type) is worth digging into her own less civilized instincts to claim. And if she claims him, what's a city dog supposed to do with a wolf?
This is extremely self indulgent but I will not apologize for it
This is set in a fictionalized post extraterrestrial contact New Mexico. The wolves are actually the result of the hybridization efforts from a few ET settlers to produce proginy that can survive long term on earth. Their natural reproductive systems are flexible and dependent on social hierarchy and the wolves and later dogs still express this aspect of their genetic makeup. Exclusively egg carrying and sperm producing sexes as well as intersex individuals are born, with exclusive reproductive role individuals constituting the majority of society (betas). Occupying a position of authority within a pack causes betas of either sex to physiologically change, becoming stronger and heartier, but at significant cost to their reproductive ability (alphas). Intersex individuals (omegas) are not able to undergo this physioological change and tend to be smaller and more fragile than their counterparts, but are essential to the healthy social dynamics of packs and the reproduction of leaders through the periodic expression of sex hormones, which dramatically improve alpha fertility.
Summer and her girls tumbled out of the pack van, grateful to stretch at long last. The wolfhound's pack was a bunch of city girls; athletic runners looking forward to stretching their long legs on some trails and communing with all the delicious smells of nature during their week long camping expedition in the national forest. They were deep into the mountains, right on the border of a wild species preserve where lived the anthros who couldn't, or wouldn't, participate in modern modes of living. Petunia, a Rhodesian Ridgeback and Summer’s second in command, swore that last year she even caught a glimpse of a wolf woman watching from over the creek that marked the border. Just in case, Summer did her pack leader best to scent the perimeter of their reserved site before the pack got to work pitching tents, laying out bedrolls, and getting the fire going for dinner. After a most excellent meal of burgers, beer, and toasted marshmallow, Summer turned in, looking forward to a morning jog through the pines.
Morning light filtered through the canopy above. Summer’s breath came in great pillowing clouds and her thighs burned with delicious effort as she dug into the steep and winding trail. She and Petunia paced each other as their other packmates, a Bull Lurcher named Patches and a Bluetick Coonhound called Misty giggled and chatted, sometimes ahead and sometimes behind. There was an overlook at the crest where they stopped for water before starting on the downhill half of the trail loop. Summer basked in the rosy glow of runner's endorphins and the happy sweaty scents of her pack all together. She never enjoyed being pack alpha at home, where the physical strength and aggressive intensity that had ratcheted up tenfold when she took the position were not much help at work or in the pack house beyond being able to move things around easily, but out here she loved feeling powerful, reliable, and in control. She daydreamed about running down some kind of big prey creature with her girls - maybe a boar? An elk? And then she’d bring it back to a sweet soft little omega who would look up at her with big admiring eyes…
She had no sooner started down that familiar train of thought when she caught a strange, demanding scent in the air, but her sighthound nose couldn’t make sense of it before the scent dissipated in the breeze. Summer held up a hand to get the attention of her pack. The silence was broken by a great crashing of undergrowth just ahead and the scent redoubled. Something in the dumb animal part of Summer's brain figured out what that smell was before she could and she was off and running again, absolutely frothing with a weird mixture of desire and murderous intent that she could not have explained if she tried.
She rounded a bend just in time to see the source of the smell come tumbling out of shoulder high undergrowth. The scent of blood and terror and wolf and omega had her barreling into him at full speed and they tumbled in the dirt as half her wolfhound brain told her to pin him and tear out his throat, that being the appropriate end of wolves, and the other half smelled distressed omega and demanded she stake her claim right then and there. He was very big for an omega, but small for a wolf, and he squirmed under her to get away, ears pinned flat against his head and eyes darting everywhere but at her own. Just as she was trying to get control of both urges, she heard more scrambling in the woodline and smelled another spike of fear from the male in front of her. He whined and struggled frantically at the sound and he, to Summer's great surprise, bared his throat to her in the prettiest display of omega submission she had ever experienced in her life, daydream or otherwise. She sat back on her heels, his body still pinned beneath her own, his hands and chest free. He was panting hard and now that she had a good look at him, was covered in gashes, bites, and bruises over almost every bit of skin not covered by the loincloth at his hips.
"Please, Alpha," he begged, "please don't let him get me. I'll do anything. Please."
With that, the "protect scared mate" half of her brain won out completely and she decided that whatever was after her (not so) small omega was going to have to kill her first to get to him.
“I’m going to let you up now. Can you be good?”
He nodded. She stood. He bolted for the trees. She didn’t even have time to decide to go after him before she saw his ankle twist and he fell to the ground again with a cry of pain.
Calm, Summer, he’s just scared and hurt. He doesn’t know you. Don’t make it worse. She told herself over and over as she went over to him, now very irritated by his disobedience. “Be good in this case means stay until I tell you to go,” she said, not quite keeping the snarl out of her voice. He flinched. “I want to help, but if you run, I won't be able to keep myself from chasing you. It’s how I’m wired. Understand?” He nodded again, but she didn’t move, waiting.
“I’m sorry, Alpha. I’ll stay and be good.” Tears were welling up in his eyes and his breaths were shallow.
That last fall might have broken something, Summer thought. She drew herself up to her full height and looked out into the trees. She smelled wolf, but her omega scent was so strong she couldn’t make out much else. "What am I fighting?"
"One...maybe two outcasts from my pack. I was separated somehow a few days ago and they've been after me since. Caught me and it was bad. I got away but Roland, the big one, has been after me and he’s almost caught up and it's going to be so much worse.”
"Neither claimed you?"
"There was an...argument about that. That's when I got away. I don't know if both are still alive. Ruby, that’s the other one, she looked pretty bad."
"Well then, that makes this part simple at least," said Summer. She crouched in front of him and pet his hair softly, then tilted his head up to meet her eyes. "I'm going to kill for you if I have to, but that’s if you belong to me.”
His eyes, darker amber than her own, went wide. A pause of decision that seemed eternity, then he tilted his head to give this absolute stranger access to that intimate place at the junction of neck and shoulder where her bite would bind them permanently. Summer's smile was absolutely feral for all she tried to contain her excitement and the power of her jaws, purpose bred for hundreds of years to take hold of wolf throats and sink her huge white teeth in and crush and bleed and...
No, no, she reminded herself as she felt the boy's pulse pounding against her tongue, her great maw hovering around his flesh, This is delicate work. You are claiming a mate. Be nice. With all the control she could muster she pierced the skin beneath his thick pale fur until his blood mixed with her saliva. He gasped, whimpered, then slumped into her just in time for Petunia and the others to find Summer clutching him to her chest, her mouth red with his blood.
"Summer! What the hell?" the ridgeback shouted. The wolfhound jolted out of the momentary bliss of the claiming, maw red.
"Oh, Petunia. This is my new omega, uh...what's your name, sweetheart?"
"Yarrow," murmured the wolf into her neck.
"My omega, Yarrow. Yarrow, this is Petunia, she's part of the pack and my second."
The ridgeback looked him up and down, stunned. "You were out of sight for maybe five minutes. How in the world...?" She sniffed anxiously. “More wolves?”
"Just one more. Probably." Summer licked the claiming bite, then kissed Yarrow's cheek. "And I'm going to kill him for hurting my sweet boy."
It was clear though, after Yarrow took a few faltering steps forward, that a hunt into the woods with him in tow was just not going to happen. Between a nastily swollen ankle and the hormonal trauma of the claim, there was no way he'd be able to keep up and Summer felt physically ill at the thought of hiding him somewhere alone. Going back toward camp seemed the only sensible option, both for the substantial first aid kit they had left there and to be well outside preserve lines and any legal ambiguity around Summer defending her recent claim. The going was mostly downhill but steep and even Misty, who did by far the most hiking, had ceased yammering to focus on getting down without falling too often. Summer carried or supported Yarrow as much as she could, but he was hardly dainty and the extra weight had them both sliding downhill with scraped hands and knees more than once.
"I'm afraid a puppy could follow my trail after all this," he said apologetically after a nasty slip had opened a scab on his shin, scenting the dirt unmistakably.
"I'm counting on it," was all she said as she pulled him up again. "Almost there." She sniffed, catching the whisper light scent of their pursuer, closer than he had been, and pressed on.
They reached the campsite tired and hungry but nowhere near completely spent. Summer sent Patches after the first aid kit and had Misty start making lunch while Yarrow rested on a log close by the firepit, as instructed.
"I smelled wolf off and on the whole way down, but the scent is gone, for now. What do you want us to do?" Petunia asked, keeping her voice low. She wasn't much more expressive than Summer, but the Alpha could tell that the Beta's blood was up.
"If he’s still following, he means to try and take Yarrow back. I don't want to get any of you killed in the fighting," Summer said, "even Patches hasn't been in this kind of dog fight before. But I'll need help from you and Misty finding him and chasing him or luring him out to open ground. You know I'm useless when I can't see what I'm hunting. Patches will stay with me and the boy in case I need help dispatching the bastard."
Petunia nodded, stalwart as always. "We'll be rested and ready to go in half an hour."
Summer tried to keep her nerves and roiling hormones under control, but knew there was no way she was going to be able to keep still with the greatest fight of her life such a short time away. She directed this energy into fussing at Yarrow; licking wounds old and new, splinting his leg, and feeding him whatever snack items she could grab. He was nervous still, but seemed to settle when he was told what to do or where to be. They didn’t have any heavy painkillers, but Acetaminophen was better than nothing.
"I wish I had better food and medicine to give you, but there’s no time. Just gotta get through this and then I can spoil you rotten."
Yarrow knew nothing about this woman other than she was a strange alpha who had claimed him after knowing him less than ten minutes, had weird dog body language, and was itching for a fight, tried to be very quiet, very still, and very good, just in case. His injured ankle had barely borne weight before and now that he had rested, had gone completely stiff with swelling. There would be no more running for him, whatever happened.
A nearby rocky meadow seemed the best place to make a stand. Summer plopped Yarrow down in the middle under the shade of a scrubby juniper with the first aid kit, some water, and the camp kitchen knife. "Be good and wait right here, ok?" she said before pacing to the edge of the woods to wait for Misty and Petunia to do their work. He lay low and still in the grass, almost invisible, and tried to ignore how exposed he suddenly felt without Summer close by.
His mind reeled with all the possible outcomes. He imagined first what he thought most likely - Summer and her pack dead, his captor returned to brutalize him once again only this time with no escape. He felt horribly guilty, having drawn her into this fight nearly unprepared with only his miserable self to gain and her life and the lives of her pack on the line. Her claiming bite twinged. The thought of her bloody and mangled in the flowers was unbearable and he forced himself to think of something else.
Maybe Summer would be victorious, but badly hurt, needing his care as she had tended to him. That…wasn't a bad image at all. The thought of licking clean hard won bites and scratches on those well muscled limbs had him absolutely aching. What about after, if she won? He was young, but wolves were not at all private about lovemaking and he'd seen plenty about what she might want from him when this was all over. Would she kiss him? Strip him bare from the shreds of clothing that still clung to him? Would she let him undress her? He tried to imagine mounting her as he'd seen his Alpha father do with his omega mother. Maybe she'd hold him down and... The daydream was broken when he heard the sound of baying from the woods, quickly accompanied by a deep, rolling bark.
Misty had caught the scent first, as she always did. She and Petunia were working back and forth along the eastern side of the meadow when they found a single track imprinted in the deep moss. She bayed in excitement and the hunt was on. Normally wolves left very little scent where they didn't want to and were difficult to track, but this one had been bloodied by a previous fight and Misty followed the looping track without difficulty, so single minded in the chase that she hardly noticed undergrowth scraping at her bare face or clinging to her shirt. She almost stumbled upon the hulking gray shape of her quarry as she clambered over a slick log, but the blood in her nose long since had worked her up far past any sense of self preservation. She alerted, startling the wolf, which turned on her with a growl only to be met with Petunia. She was a beta, and not so big as Summer certainly, but still had all the height and boldness of her big game hunter breeding. Her bark was deep as she paced just out of reach, trying to make out if the dogs would be the pursuers or the pursued in the chase to come. She was in control of herself far more than Misty, who circled and darted too close for comfort in her frenzy, but made a good snap at the wolf's arm when he tried to grab at the coonhound. The big wolf very much did not appreciate the graze of her teeth, and lunged for her instead. There was a great snarling and snapping of teeth that ended with Petunia and Misty running hard for the clearing, the wolf breathing hard in pursuit.
Summer leaned against a tree and looked out over the meadow, willing her body to relax into calm watchfulness. With her wiry salt and pepper coat and hiking clothes of mottled earth tones, she nearly blended into the dappled shade. Her stillness was broken only by the cocking of her head and the perking of an ear as she heard the commotion in the trees, then grinned in anticipation as the barking and growling neared. Soon there was a crash of leaves and branches as Misty and Petunia burst out from the undergrowth, followed by the incensed wolf, who suddenly felt the force of the giant wolfhound barreling into him, teeth flashing before they sank into the massive ruff of his neck. They tumbled, the wolf unable to dislodge Summer, but certainly able to slash and pummel as they went to ground. Petunia turned, biting and thrashing where she could get clear of her Alpha. Summer's mouth oozed with blood, but the wolf’s muscle and heavy coat kept her off anything vital. The wolf reared back to his full height, stronger than the wolfhound still, even after all the long fight and hunt for Yarrow. He half tackled, half stumbled onto her, knocking the wind out of her and dislodging the bite. Before he could retaliate, Patches was on him, joining the frenzy with relish. Her powerful shoulders bulged with the effort to grab and strike and she was able to jab a knee into the wolf's ribs, pulling his attention for the briefest moment away from the prone Summer. She rolled to her feet, panting hard, just as the wolf backhanded Patches and sent her flying. Petunia grabbed at an ear and the shaggy, unkempt hair of the wolf from behind, jerking backward with enough force to unbalance him and expose his white furred throat to Summer, who lunged forward with the last of her strength, tasting lifeblood at last. She did not let go until she felt the body go limp in her jaws, then stood and wiped her mouth with the dirty sleeve of her now thoroughly shredded favorite hoodie.
"You shouldn't have followed after I made my claim," she said simply. "The omega is mine."
Said omega had watched intently from his hiding spot in the grass, nauseous and fascinated equally with the brutality of his tormentor and of Summer's pack. The fight had drawn ever closer as they rolled and tumbled downhill and at the end they had nearly been on top of him. He was close enough to watch the light go out of his sadistic cousin's eyes and he felt nothing but relief until he remembered the great bloody mouthed dog who now loomed over them both.
Summer looked everyone over and sent Misty, the least injured, off to find a park ranger before the adrenaline started to wear off. She braced against a tree and vomited into the grass, afraid that once she sat her legs would be too much like jelly to stand up again. Her wounds weren't life threatening, but she had bites on her forearm, a badly bruised back, cracked ribs, and a slash across her face where the wolf's claw had grazed too close to one eye for comfort. Patches likewise had bruises all over and had landed wrong on her wrist when she'd been thrown. But they were alive, and they had won with a new member of the pack to show for it.
It would be some time before Misty is back with the ranger, thought Summer, looking down at the awestricken omega she'd actually managed to defend the old fashioned way. She was very tired now and sank down to lean against him in the grass, the sun warm on her. Yarrow slowly, hesitantly took her hand in his, lifted her forearm, and lapped the wound. She hissed in pain and he froze.
"Wait, it's ok, keep going. Please," she said, her eyes shut. He relaxed, moving on to the other arm when she held it out for him.
"You should get these looked at soon. Um, Ma’am." he said softly, "this one needs stitches and they all need cleaning. Bites get infected easily."
She opened one eye. "How's the one on my face?"
He hesitated again before delicately licking at the stripe by her mouth. It was a placating gesture normally, but with their bodies pressed together it almost felt like...more. And just as he was thinking, she turned and kissed him right on the muzzle, sweetly at first, then deepening, pulling him into her space. He felt himself melt into her, savoring the feeling of being tasted, of her hand twining in his hair, of being pulled close to her warmth after days of constant vigilance and no rest. And her smell - it was the mineral and ozone smell of sudden rain on dry ground and he breathed in as much as he could, though it made his head fuzzy. She pulled away as brakes squealed on the dirt road up the hill and he whimpered with the sudden lack of contact. "Just a bit longer, sweet thing," said Summer. "I do need to make sure I don't get arrested. Couldn't kiss my Yarrow in prison."
It had not occurred to Yarrow that prison was even a possibility; wolf packs didn't have them and handled matters of justice almost entirely internally, reserving exile and execution for serious offenses and corporal punishment or labor for more minor ones. And in absolutely no way would claiming and then defending the claim of a lone, distressed omega have been treated as anything other than charity. His confusion doubled as the whole pack was loaded up in a work truck and taken to a several decades old building to be questioned by a severe looking ranger, his preserve counterpart, and some kind of medic. Each pack member was taken back one at a time for questioning until at last it was Summer's turn. Yarrow tensed all over as soon as she stood to go, trembling at the thought of his Alpha not being close enough to see or smell. The dying face of Roland stared at him in his mind.
"Shh, it's ok. The room is over there. I'm not going far," she said, but it didn't help much. His nails dug so hard into his balled up fists that he bled. Summer addressed the waiting ranger, "ah, sir, can I bring him? We've only been bonded for a few hours and it's been...intense."
"We'll have to interview you separately, but he can wait in the hall outside the door, then switch. He's the last one anyway," answered the ranger. Summer nodded her thanks and helped Yarrow hobble to the door. At the last minute, she stripped off her shredded hoodie to hold for comfort and he clutched it as the door to the office locked behind Summer. Half an hour later, Summer emerged and was quickly transferred to the care of the waiting medic. She gave him a tired smile as he was ushered inside but it wasn't much reassurance. Now all he really wanted was to just curl up next to her and sleep and he was getting more and more worried that these people wouldn't give them a chance. The ranger, an impassive looking rottweiler male (maybe an Alpha? or a big Beta?) gestured to the chair across the heavy desk. A decades-old fan whirred in the background, fluttering yellowing posters every time it swung past. Yarrow sat warily, wilting when he saw the preserve official standing by the bookshelf in the back, arms crossed. “Avoid involving preserve authorities unless absolutely necessary” was the prevailing sentiment with his pack - his old pack, he reminded himself - and he'd only ever heard of them being involved in the worst cases.
"Alright, Yarrow was it? I need you to tell me what happened," said the Rottweiler, shuffling some papers.
"W-where should I start, sir?"
"Start with when you left the wolf pack," said the preserve official. He looked sort of doggish and Yarrow wondered if he might be a hybrid.
"I was out with most of the family on a hunt. We were tracking a herd of elk through the valley on the northwestern edge of pack territory. It was marshy and easy to get stuck in the ground and before I knew it I was falling behind. Two outcasts, cousins I hadn't seen in a few years, must have been tailing us, maybe looking for leftovers? And they found me instead. Beat me when I called out and had me out of the territory before anyone could help, if anyone even heard me in the first place."
The Rottweiler frowned incredulously. "What pack takes omegas to hunt elk?"
"I’m from the Pintos Altos pack sir. But they don't normally. I was supposed to be there mostly for supervision. It's a small pack and I was going to be betrothed next month, at the equinox."
"And your cousins, were they potential mates?"
"No, my father would never have allowed that. He cast them out himself, told them he'd kill them if they came back. I don't know the details about it since I was young when it happened."
"Your father is pack leader, then?"
Yarrow nodded.
"So these two outcasts carried you off, then what happened?"
"They, uh, hit me a lot. Sliced up my sides a bit. They liked the screaming I think because they never actually told me to do anything. I didn’t know how to make them stop."
"Did they do anything else to you?”
Yarrow froze, suddenly unable to look anywhere but at his hands.
“It's very important, Yarrow. For your sake and Ms. Summer's," said the ranger.
Yarrow swallowed hard. "Then Ruby, that was the smaller one, held me down and…took me. The big one, Roland did too, then they started fighting. Please," he shut his eyes, "please don't tell my Alpha about this."
"I'm here to write a report and settle any murder accusations, Yarrow," said the Rottweiler, "and Mr. Bayard here is a liaison to your family and preserve authorities. Neither of us is responsible for telling Ms. Summer anything that you don’t want to. Can you tell me what happened next?"
"Roland and Ruby fought and Ruby got messed up really badly as far as I could tell. She was bleeding all over. Neither of them were paying attention to me though, so I ran away as fast as I could. Roland got hurt too, so he didn't catch up to me right away, but he got close. It was maybe two days of running before he caught up to me again. He wrenched my leg I think trying to break it, but he was tired too and I got free again, though I couldn't really run well after that. I hadn't realized I was off preserve land until I found my Alpha on the trail."
"And you thought she was safe, even though she was a stranger?"
Yarrow couldn’t hold back a nervous giggle. "What? No, she was terrifying. Maybe scarier than Ruby even. She had this expression like she wanted to eat me as soon as she saw me. I tried to keep running but my leg gave out so I thought she was a better risk than Roland and I knew he was close. I figured they might fight a bit and I'd get away again. I didn't expect her to be so...gentle. Or for her pack to be there. I'd never actually met a real dog before."
"When did she claim you?"
"Right then and there. She offered, saying she'd protect me if I was hers and it seemed better than the alternative at the time. After that, she and her pack got me back to the camp.”
“Then she went looking for Roland?”
“Yes, after looking after me and the girls, sir. He stalked her the whole way back though so it wasn’t far.
“What happened then?”
“I didn’t see much of the fight. Alpha told me to stay put in the long grass. I only saw the end, when it got close to me. I did see her kill him though. Then she sent Misty for help and waited with me. She’s hurt and I’d like to see her, sir. If it’s allowed.”
"I see. Thank you, Yarrow. Mr. Bayard, do you have anything to add?"
"I'll contact his family this afternoon, and I'll need to track down this 'Ruby,' but I see no reason to hold him any longer. This might be an unusual case for you, Elroy, but isn't that far from normal for wolf packs here.”
"Alright. Yarrow, Doc Buckeye should be waiting for you with Ms. Summer." He had to lean on Mr Bayard of all people as he limped to Doc Buckeye's clinic where he found Summer sitting on a metal table, chatting contentedly with the merle collie Omega as she tied off stitches on her forehead. The alpha quirked an ear when the door opened and when she saw Yarrow her heavy tail clanged against her seat.
"I'll leave him in your care then, Doc," said Mr. Bayard. "Elroy needs some samples too."
"Right on time," said the collie, "I've just finished with her. Up here for me, love," she said, helping him up as Summer slid off. She sat in a plastic chair nearby, clearly in no more hurry to be parted again than he was. He felt much calmer now regardless of how Doc fussed, pulled, and pinched at him. Apparently he was in a worse way than he'd thought, for he suddenly was being stuck with IV fluids, swallowing an antibiotic and a painkiller, and Summer was scheduling an X-ray for his leg over the station's spotty wifi.
“The clinic can get you in for your leg tomorrow afternoon. I think we can make it back in time if we cut the trip short and leave first thing in the morning…or tonight, but I don’t think any of us are good to drive that far just now, especially in the dark.”
He shifted guiltily on the table. He didn’t like that she was changing plans just for him.
"That's about all I can do for this with what we have here, love," said Doc Buckeye. "I do need to check your nether region for injuries and to finish up samples for the case, okay? I can give you a minute to take everything off and lay back. You can cover up with this." Yarrow's mouth went dry but he nodded, taking the sheet she offered in his hands.
"Yarrow, what's wrong?" Summer asked as his scent shifted.
"It's...it's nothing"
"I can step out for this part if you'd rather," she said, "I won't be mad. Not even a little."
He dared a glance at her "No! No, please don't leave me alone. Ma’am. Just..."
"I won't ask about it either, if you don't want me to."
He nodded, then untied the loincloth that had been his only covering since she'd met him. She sucked in a breath when she saw the state of his abused genitals, but said nothing, instead helping him to lie back and cover up as Doc had said. "I'm sorry," he whined quietly.
"You have no reason to be sorry. I'm sorry. For not killing him harder. Multiple times." He winced at the sudden acrid rage in her scent, but her touch on his shoulder remained gentle, anchoring. When Doc Buckeye came back in, she was mercifully clinical, and brisk. Summer pet his hair as he scrunched shut his eyes while he was swabbed, his injuries cataloged and cleaned, and blood drawn.
"Have you washed or touched him down here?" asked Doc, keeping her voice absolutely even. There was real tension in the air now, despite Summer’s best effort at keeping it under control. Doc Buckeye was no doubt just as aware of it as Yarrow was.
"No, I hadn't even looked. Just...had a hunch."
"I don't see any permanent damage and the general antibiotic I'm giving him will help," Doc told them both. "He will need time to heal for this to remain non-permanent," she said very pointedly at Summer. "I know you are just bonded, but he needs two weeks, minimum. And then take it slow.” Summer could already feel the roil of conflicting emotions coming off Yarrow at the mention of having anyone touch him there anytime soon. “Well, that's it from me. Make sure you get this leg looked at and do the full round of antibiotics. In the bag are some painkillers that should at least get him comfortable enough until your appointment tomorrow. I can’t give out the really strong stuff, but the doctor tomorrow can see to that.”
"Of course," said Summer, then helped him get dressed in a loose pair of clinic-provided shorts, his loincloth having gone into the evidence bag.
It was already evening when the ranger dropped them off back at their campsite. It was warm for early autumn and the smell of cinnamon scented pine mixed with campfire was heavy in the air. The pack chatted and grilled hotdogs and drank ice cold beer from the cooler, winding down from the stress and excitement of the day. Summer tried to join in after telling everyone that this night was their last before heading back. She wanted to think about anything other than the feel of lifeblood gushing out between her teeth, but the memory of the fight kept coming back whenever the conversation lulled. When she wasn’t thinking about that, she was thinking about the state of her boy, when she’d actually gotten a look at him at the clinic. She didn’t want to hurt him but she was also itching to enjoy the spoils of her fight to the death with a wolf, even if that meant she had to keep it to cuddling. And maybe some kissing. She looked askance at him as he was sitting and eating his fourth hotdog right from her fingers, looking tired and a little drugged out but content. His scent, herbal and bright like a meadow, was finally clean from the overlay of pain and fear and she felt a pang of affection right in her heart. I want him to enjoy it, when we touch. Summer, try not to mess him up because you can’t control yourself.
Yarrow was in a fuzzy warm haze of painkiller and full belly, which dulled his constant anxiety and left him pleased to take pleasure in his jovial new pack, the new territory where he could finally rest, and his attentive new mate. The past and future both seemed so unimportant compared to all those good sensations and the riot of activity around him that required nothing of him. He drifted in and out of a doze and someone, Petunia maybe, laid a blanket out on the ground so he could sleep and not be all alone. This is good. I’m going to be good too. He woke later to his head on his Alpha’s lap and her arm draped across his shoulder as she and everyone else played cards.
"Up you get, sweetheart" Summer said, shaking him awake again. It was dark and chilly now and the ache of all his injuries had slowly crept back as the painkillers wore off. She made him drink a bottle of water, take his medicine, and eat some sliced apple. She had already left to go get the bed ready when he was finally awake enough to be aware of his own body. He needed to pee. Badly. Doc had also very firmly told him not to put any weight on his foot unless absolutely necessary, even with the splint. It wasn't that far to crawl to the woodline though his body protested after being allowed to lie motionless for so long. He was halfway to his goal, a tree with low, sturdy limbs he could pull himself up on, when he heard Summer behind him, voice sharp.
"Yarrow! Where do you think you are going?" He hunched down, wincing as the cuts along his sides snagged. Summer hadn’t used that tone with him before, and he was jumpy.
"T-to the treeline Ma'am?"
She was close to him now, looming. "Let me rephrase. Why are you sneaking away from camp?"
"I wasn't! I just...I really need to pee."
"So you decided to crawl on hands and knees into the dark.” She sighed. “Yarrow, you're plenty beat up already. Please, just ask for help instead of scaring me half to death."
"Oh," he said. She was waiting. After a pause, he figured out what she wanted, "Ma'am, can you help me walk? I need to go to the bathroom."
"Good boy. And yes."
She was evidently feeling fully recovered or still tipsy because she scooped him up like he weighed nothing. "Did you want to go up to the flush toilet instead? It’s clean and has actual plumbing And it would be easier if you need to…you know…poop.”
He shook his head. "I'm...scared it's going to hurt," he confessed, feeling boneless all wrapped up in Summer's smell.
"Hmm, it would be better to give it a go sooner than later. It's not going to be fun if you wait. Let's get you to the toilet."
It did hurt, and Yarrow was mortified to have Summer involved in the process at all, but it was soon over and the promise of a warm, dry bed was plenty of distraction from his increasingly frequent humiliations. Summer seemed pleased about all of it, especially when he had to ask her to do the most mundane things, like help him get into bed, which is what she was doing now. She didn't have an extra sleeping bag or bedroll, so she'd unzipped hers flat as a cover and had him make a nest for them both to sleep on out of clean laundry and a picnic blanket. It was a bit lumpy, but dry and not made of rock, thus a significant improvement. Yarrow normally didn’t need much bedding except in the winter, plush as he was, and when Summer climbed in to curl her body around his, the arrangement was positively toasty. She sighed in satisfaction, the last thing he heard before he drifted off to sleep.
He woke groggy in the dark when Summer sat bolt upright with a growl. She was panting hard and smelled like distress, her breath silver in the little moonlight that leaked into the tent. It was a few minutes before she moved, only her ear twitching when she heard the distant yips of coyotes. She hadn't noticed he was awake and tucked the cover around him before climbing out of the nest and going outside into the cold night air. Yarrow strained to listen but he couldn't make out anything other than the soft sound of her steps as she paced around the perimeter of camp. After nearly an hour, he'd already started to drift off again when she came back, fur cold against him and her body stiff. Yarrow rolled over and tucked his nose against her chest. "Everything ok, ma'am?" he whispered.
"Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep, Yarrow," she murmured, rubbing his back gently. He pretended not to wake any of the other three times she woke and paced outside before morning came.
Morning brought a breakfast of instant coffee (a first for Yarrow), eggs, and a ton of bacon, then the effort of packing up. Yarrow was grounded to the picnic blanket again, but helped as he could with whatever folding, sorting, and wiping they could throw his way. "I won't be this useless forever," he promised as he wrestled with Misty's stuff sack. Patches just ruffled his hair fondly before loading the big cooler into the back of the van. Summer was jumpy, but not as much as she had been during the night. The food had helped and she was sure that getting back to the secure, familiar pack house would help a lot with her nerves. She sometimes smelled Roland's blood on the wind and imagined him staring out at her from between the trees, throat bloody and teeth white. If anyone else noticed, they kept it to themselves, but when the van had been loaded, snacks distributed, and the fire fully smothered, she announced "someone else can drive," before clambering into the back.
"Not me," Patches said and rapped her noggin. "Concussion."
Petunia dutifully took up her place as second in command by demanding shotgun, which left Misty at the wheel for the long and winding drive back home. Summer drifted off wedged between her new boy and the window, but Yarrow was alert and fidgety the whole time, looking out the window, fiddling with the vents, and trying to watch what Misty was doing in the front. He jumped when Petunia put on her favorite 2000's dance hits playlist and he felt his backside buzz with the bass.
"You ok?" Patches half shouted over the music.
"Yeah, just not been in a lot of cars before! This is weird.”
Somehow, Summer slept through most of the drive with the music blaring, only waking to grumpily demand Petunia turn it down to a reasonable volume after they had already stopped for gas. The Beta girls spent the trip introducing their new captive audience to all their favorite songs. They were delighted when he could hum along with some classic rock.
"There was a radio that played top 40 and classics in the general store," he told them when they asked in surprise, "all the pups would find excuses to hang around listening when the pack was in town. Some of the adults, too, though they could go to the bar."
When they finally pulled up to the pack house, the novelty of the car had begun to wear off and Yarrow was ready to stretch his legs again. He leaned against the van for balance as Misty unlocked the door and yelped when Summer, now refreshed, scooped him up in her arms. She grinned down at him, teeth flashing. "You didn't think I'd let you walk across the threshold, my mate?"
It was a somewhat outdated home with a traditional layout for a full pack - the front door opened to a common living and dining area with kitchen, bedrooms, library, storage, and workspace in a ring around a big courtyard in the middle. The design was meant to be defensible inside but also to allow omegas and the pack’s pups access to the outdoors without needing constant escort in the non-territorialized city. Of course, such security was not strictly necessary in their part of the city these days, but Summer had picked the place with a vague daydream future in mind. Whether or not the daydream made reality she was currently carrying approved of the place was suddenly a concern.
Of course he can make changes to the place when we have the money if he doesn’t like it, but I hope he’s not too disappointed, thought Summer.
"We've got to both get cleaned up and head back out to the doctor for your leg, so not much time to look around or take you shopping but I promise you won't have to keep wearing girl pants much longer. Here's my room...ours now, I guess? Bathroom's here and here's the closet. Laundry goes in that bin there." She glanced at him to gauge his reaction, but still hadn’t gotten the nuance of wolf expression yet.
He doesn't seem unhappy at least, she told herself.
"I'll go run the tub. Sponge bath only until the bandages can stay off, unfortunately."
Yarrow sat on the bed where she'd plopped him, completely overwhelmed. He'd never actually been inside a private house before, much less lived in one, and the scale of it seemed absurd. He'd used a bathroom before, at school when the pups were boarded during the weeks long fall and spring hunts, but there the showers were communal, as were the dorm bunk beds and basically everything else.
And the privacy…though she is pack Alpha - maybe this is the privilege of rank?
His father had slept in a tent with his omega and their youngest pups and sometimes important guests at night, with the bedding stashed aside for meetings and the other demands of leadership during the day.
If this is the living arrangement, I can’t imagine how extensive the whole territory must be!
"Okay, go ahead and get undressed and then you can sit on the edge of the tub," Summer said from the other room after the water shut off. He moved to obey just as she came out and his eyes went wide. She'd undressed to her sports bra and underwear and he couldn't stop himself from staring. She was lean and long limbed and her feminine curves contrasted with her more angular Alpha musculature and height. She wasn't delicately pretty, but she was elegant and handsome and he felt his breath catch when she pulled him into her chest to carry him. It was a very nice chest and he very much wanted to bury his nose into it. He did not, but she chuckled at the hint of desire in his scent all the same. The sponge bath was quick but sorely needed. Even without a good soak, the bits of him that she could wash were restored to their usual shades of cinnamon, honey, cream, and gray.
“I’ll need to comb you out and bathe you again later and make sure I get all of these,” she said after her fingers found not a few ticks, which she plucked out with a pair of tweezers. She wiped down his face gently, ending with a kiss to the tip of his nose. All that remained was his privates and he tensed in anticipation. She stood back and handed him the washcloth. "I don't want the first time I touch you there to be painful or...rushed" she said, “you can lean on me if you need to though.”
He was clean and wrapped up in a fluffy towel on the bed again as Summer drained the filthy water for a quick shower of her own, careful to keep her own injuries out of the spray. Then he dressed in more of the plainest sweats Summer owned before heading to the doctor.
The clinic was small and quite busy when the two made their way inside. Both were clearly out of place among the clientele - an enormous Alpha wolfhound with cuts and bruises that could only have come from a serious fight and her skittish, battered looking wolf reeking of new bonded omega anxiety. He sat next to a middle aged golden retriever while Summer checked him in, the dog trying very hard not to look at Yarrow directly.
"Here," said Summer, handing Yarrow the clipboard, "I only know maybe a quarter of what's on this, so you'll need to fill it out." He did as Summer looked over his shoulder, humming with interest at all she was learning about her new mate. "Oh. For pack name you can put Moloney. Your old one goes here...ah, Pintos Altos? I really should call your dad when we get done with this..."
A short black and white border collie nurse called Yarrow back some time after they had finished, mercifully equipped with a wheelchair. Yarrow took off the sweatshirt he was wearing to help with vitals, confused by the glare she shot at Summer as soon as more of the damage was exposed.
"Wasn't me. The guy who did it gave me this," Summer growled, holding her eye before the collie looked back to his work again.
The doctor unwrapped the splint that the camp medic had given him the day before and poked and prodded a bit before sending him for x-rays.
"Good news is I should be able to reduce this without surgery," she said, looking over the images. "Bad news is you'll be in a cast for a few weeks while it heals, and won't be able to put many miles on it for some time after that. Hunting season is over for you, I'm afraid."
Yarrow swallowed hard before he nodded.The whole season?
"Alright, lets get your ankle numbed up"
The actual setting process didn't take long - the wait for his prescriptions was longer - and while the pain was still there, it no longer felt like his ankle was wrong. Yarrow, though, was more nervous than he had been since Summer had stood over him on the trail where they had met. The dread had been building since before the cast went on and but now the immobility of his limb was real. He wanted to claw the cast off, and was afraid Summer would be pissed if he did, but was even more afraid of how pissed she must already be to have her brand new mate be useless for the entire first season in the pack. He was stewing in his own thoughts when she opened the driver side door and was hit by a wall of his scent.
"Yarrow! Sweetheart, what's wrong? The painkillers should be good for another hour…"
"I'm sorry," he whimpered, not daring to look at her, "I'm really sorry, Alpha."
"What do you possibly have to be sorry about?" She sounded confused, not angry. "Sure, we are getting back a bit late, but that's just the pharmacy." She tried to nuzzle him when he didn’t seem to settle, but he flinched when she got close.
"I'm sorry that I'm not useful. You've done so much and been so patient and I can't do anything. I can’t even hunt rabbits, I don't know your territory, and I can’t learn it on crutches…I can't take care of myself without being carried around like a pup even though you are hurt, too. You haven't even...mated with me. And I’m going to be like this for a whole season and you don’t have any reason not to toss me out."
"Yarrow. It's been one day. All those things will come with time, and we'll enjoy them when they do. And I don't need you to hunt rabbits. I don't make that much money, but we aren't close to starving, you know. "
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say..."
"I know you didn't." She chuckled. "I don't think you understand how much I'm enjoying just having you around. Or how much the thought of you gone makes me sick. I don't know you that well yet, but I meant it when I made you mine. How about this - for the next few weeks, your job is to learn how life works here and to invest in our bond. Can you do that?"
"I can do that, Ma'am," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure what that entailed.
"Good boy," she said, "now, lets get home."