Chapter Six
The wolf walked as a man now. The boy's dressings had fallen off as he'd flailed in his sleep. Did the boy know how much he moved while sleeping? The wolf did. He'd watched the boy sleep for days, spending that time trying to remember the language and habits of his old life. He hadn't always been isolated up here, but as the years grew on, he had less of a reason to leave.
As the wolf remembered how to speak he gave his boy sips of bone broth and changed his bedding. He'd been so scared at first that the boy would not make it. But, the boy was strong and although he had cried out, he did not die.
The wolf growled at the memory of finding his boy being mauled by two disgusting coyotes. Shame and guilt flowed through him. He should have done something about the coyotes when they had first started exploring his mountain further, but he hadn't wanted the problem. Hadn't accepted the problem as belonging to him. It was easy enough for him to stay hidden, especially from a beast as lazy and distracted as a coyote. But, not everyone had that ability. His boy certainly hadn't. And now look what happened.
Those days were over. As soon as his boy's leg healed and was well enough to be left alone without needing to be fed, he would deal with the coyote plague.
The wolf knew where he was going and quickly found the herbs he needed. He gathered them along with a fresh pile of moss and brought them back to the cabin.
Working in silence, he felt his boy's eyes on him, watching carefully, warily. The wolf could not blame him. He'd gone a long time without denying himself anything. He was denying himself now and doing a poor job of hiding that fact.
He'd filled up the water pitcher the first day the boy had been with him. One of many things he'd long stopped using himself but now found was glad he still had. Like the cabin. The wolf couldn't remember the last night he'd spent inside the cabin, preferring to survive mostly in his animal form. He was grateful to have it now though. His boy needed a roof and walls as he healed. He needed protected.
The wolf got to work preparing the herbs and moss and the boy continued to watch him. He'd sat up, something the wolf had told him not to do, but he would forgive it for now. It was amazing the boy was even awake. His skin was marred with bites and slices from the coyotes' claws. His leg was broken and the wolf suspected a few bruised ribs as well.
"What do you have there?" the boy asked. "Why are there actual wolves in here? Do you live with them? Did you see the kids? Did they make it down the mountain? What happened to those coyotes? Who are you? What's your--"
The wolf moved his tongue, preparing it for speech. "You ask a lot of question," the wolf said in reply.
"Because I need a lot of answers."
"You need them?" The wolf gathered his prepared materials and brought them to the boy's side.
"I'd like them. I guess, more than anything, I need to know if the kids are safe." His words caught in his throat.
The wolf assumed he was talking about the adolescent pups he'd seen down the side of the mountain. After securing his boy in the cabin he'd gone back to them, finding them huddled together in a cave and crying. He'd chased them down the mountain to the first road and had waited in the bushes for a car to pick them up. "They are safe," he said. "One of them kept screaming, Skineater, at me."
The boy blushed, the contrast against his pale skin was striking and now the wolf had a million questions. He wouldn't ask his though.
"I shouldn't have lied to them," the boy croaked. "But they were being really annoying at the time."
The wolf grunted.
The boy sat straighter. "Are you sure they are safe? Who picked them up?" he asked.
The boy would learn quickly to trust him. "They are safe," he said, the words coming easier and easier. "A park ranger picked them up. They were telling him their address as they drove off. A den somewhere?"
"The Den?"
"Yes, is that where you live?"
"It is the name of the restaurant our pack owns."
The wolf had no comment to that. He reached for the boy's arm in the same way he'd done tens of times before that point. But this time, the boy was awake and jerked his limb away. The wolf silenced the growl that threatened to break through his lips. Didn't the boy know that every piece of him belonged to the wolf? Couldn't he feel that? "You have many cuts that need dressed."
"I don't even know your name."
The wolf hadn't been addressed by his name in so long he wasn't sure he remembered it. "Will that change anything?"
The boy blinked his round, blue eyes. "It will help. I mean, I am injured in the middle of the woods with a stranger. Knowing the stranger's name might give me some sense of control of the situation."
"That feeling would be false. You have no control."
The boy bit his lip and blinked quickly. Horrifyingly, the wolf realized the boy was moments from crying. He thought back quickly to the time before his solitude, the noise, hatred and confusion of the outside world. He went so long without speaking to anyone he forgot he had a title, a name, it reminded him of fire. But, of the aftermath of fire. Like ash...Asher.
"My name is Asher."
"Why did it look like that was something really hard for you to remember?"
"Because it has been so long since I have been responsible for remembering it. Can I dress your wounds now?"
The boy bit his lip and nodded. Asher scooped a sizable portion of mashed herbs onto his hand and began applying it to the puncture wounds on his arm and shoulder. Most of them in this area were shallow. His boy had been fighting too hard for the coyotes to get a good grip on his top half. Asher felt a simultaneous surge of pride and anger. He clenched his hand in a fist at the memory of the coyotes but his boy did not know what he was thinking and startled away from him, believing the sign of aggression was directed toward him.
Asher stilled his body. He didn't normally have an issue hiding or controlling his emotions, but to be fair, he had never felt this much. Even in his younger violent days, he had been motivated by justice, doing what was right. Those days had been nothing like his anger when thinking about this lithe, beautiful body being harmed. It was greater than any anger he'd felt. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Caleb," he replied softly. "You're a shifter?"
Asher nodded but didn't look up. He'd finished dressing the wounds on his arm and moved methodically to the other arm. The cuts here were also shallow. It was the deep cut high up Caleb's thigh that had him worried. Asher suspected his tibia was also broken. He'd set and splinted the leg the first day. His boy had howled in pain, still in wolf form. Since then, Asher had developed a regular routine of dressing and cleaning his boy's wounds. That routine hadn't changed when he shifted into his human form. Asher couldn't ignore how much more intimate the activity was when Caleb was awake.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Caleb squeaked when Asher's fingertips brushed his upper thigh.
"You have an extremely deep cut here, I imagine one of them hooked a claw in you. It only just stopped bleeding completely. Lay quietly and I will cover it quickly."
"Couldn't we just let it heal on its own?" Caleb asked, his face scarlet.
"Many of your wounds are shallow enough that we will not need to redress them again, but this one is deep and close to vital parts of your body. I do not think you want it to become infected."
Caleb lay back, bit his bottom lip and looked away. Asher took that as his consent. He dressed the wound quickly as promised, but when he was done, Caleb's erection poked out at him.
"I'm--uh--it doesn't mean anything," Caleb said loudly and at a very high pitch.
Asher smiled small, not wanting to embarrass Caleb further. "You don't have to explain it to me," he said kindly. "I understand why your body is reacting that way."
Caleb exhaled, the worry in his blue eyes disappeared. "You do? Oh, good. I was worried you would think that I was--"
"You are mine, of course your body would recognize its alpha."
Caleb stopped talking and gaped at him. "I am...? You are...? You're wrong."
"So, you always become aroused when receiving medical treatment?"
"No, but, I'm naked! And it is really...confusing in here." Caleb looked around the cabin.
Asher tried to see the space from an outsider's perspective. It was small, but he'd only needed it to be big enough for him. His first few winters had been cold. There were little furnishings. A small table and a dusty old trunk. There was a stone fire place but no actual bed. Asher remembered how proud he had been the year he'd figured out how to construct a fireplace that didn't simply fill the cabin with smoke. He had already begun constructing a raised bedframe for Caleb to sleep on. The simple fact that Caleb reverted to his human form while sleeping told Asher that he was more comfortable that way. He could accommodate him and it would be interesting to sleep in a bed again.
"You don't need to be embarrassed, Caleb," Asher said, moving on from the wound. "I knew you were on my mountain the moment you took your first step. It took me a little while to realize what the feeling was and to locate you, but now that I have, I intend on keeping you by my side. I will eradicate the coyote infestation that I allowed to go on for too long--"
"I can't stay here. I mean, thank you for doing what you've done so far. Saving me from the coyotes and helping me heal. But, I need to get back. My pack will be worried."
"Your pack?" He hadn't meant to allow so much venom seep through his words. "Your pack? You mean the people who haven't tried to save you? You've been sleeping for days and they haven't come up here looking for you? According to those pups, the last thing they know is that you were being mauled to death by a pair of coyotes. Where is your pack to avenge you?"
"I don't--they need--"
"No, stop. I don't want to hear any more about your pack. They left you up here and it is for the best because the forest has given you to me. You're mine."