Chapter Six

T URNED OUT MY STUBBORNNESS could be quite persistent. While Shiki was there, I made an effort to be civil to Cristian. I was careful to keep our interactions brief, which helped, but all the negativity was safely away. I spent most of my time with Shiki, discussing the situation I was in and what my options were, but nothing was certain. Until we had a clear picture of who had ordered the assassination, I was just making guesses, some wilder than the others.

The moment Shiki left, things changed. Without him acting as a shield, I had to devise a different plan and that was to avoid Cristian like the plague. It wasn’t difficult to accomplish. Mostly because Cristian was helping. He only interacted with me when pressed to do so, and that didn’t happen often.

I turned into this reclusive grump that retreated into his cabin or in the woods whenever faced with the possibility of human contact. Or werewolf contact. I didn’t like it much, but whenever I tried to reach out, I was met by a stone-cold mule of a man who stuck to one-word replies and looked everywhere but at me when we spoke.

If I were honest, I’d say the situation sucked. Not in a good way. Other than daily phone calls to Shiki, I had no contact with anyone else. My father had forbidden me from talking to anyone in our pack, or any other Mongolian packs. The few Russians on our compound that I was friendly with were all out of the question. So here I was, in the middle of the Romanian wilderness, staying at this high-end, luxurious resort, and I felt like crap. I was lonely, restless, and more annoyed than I wanted to admit by the simple fact Cristian wasn’t paying me any attention.

I hated that someone I’d barely met held so much power over my mood. Who was Cristian to me in the end? A smidgen more than a stranger. Sure, I’d probably run into him in the future, the grand biannual tribe meetings guaranteed it. He didn’t matter though. He had no significant impact on my life for my future. So why did I feel so disappointed every time we met and he brushed me off?

When thoughts like that struck me, my large, comfy room and the entire cabin felt constricting. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t sit still, and apprehension and anger tickled my nerves. I’d run through the mountain forests until I was exhausted, then sleep it off in a dug-up bed of snow. Once I recovered, I’d trot back, telling myself I was just exercising to keep in shape.

Tired of this circle that was spiraling out of control, I woke up on a bright, chilly morning, determined to do better. My situation looked bleak in terms of the tribe politics, but I was still young-ish, had enough friends to back me, and my father hadn’t disowned me yet. It would take a while, but I’d eventually stop looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone to jump me and try to kill me.

I went for a morning run, in my human form this time, and followed it with a thorough workout. By the time I was finished, all I could see was a straight line to the kitchen where a hearty breakfast awaited me. I’d had an energy bar before my run, but that hadn’t been enough for the grueling exercise I’d put myself through.

After devouring everything that had been left for me in the kitchen and once again marveling at how little of the serving staff I could see on a daily basis, I took the encrypted laptop I’d been given and stretched on the couch of the adjoining living room. The moment I logged on, a video call from my father came through.

“Good morning, father. How are you today?” I tried a smile which I hoped looked less fake than it felt.

He held a finger up, and turned to face away from the screen. He exchanged a few quick words with someone I couldn’t see, and then returned his attention to me. “Good morning, my son. I trust you’re well.”

“Yes, I’m all right. How have you been, father?”

“As expected, I suppose. Not every day do you fend of assassins aiming for your son.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead, and for the first time in my life, he seemed old.

Chinggis had been alpha for a long time. He’d had me later in life, and I knew werewolves didn’t live forever. I hadn’t realized he wasn’t in his prime anymore, and that simple fact hit me harder than everything else that had happened. My mother was already gone, and I’d never gotten a chance to know her. Difficult birth, they said. Most werewolf births were like that, more so in order tribe. Rarer too. I wasn’t ready to lose my father too. Especially not now, when the tribe was such a mess.

“I am sorry we had to go through that, father.”

He waved me off, clicking his tongue. “We will always be challenged. Yet we must prevail. We’ve been the leaders of this tribe for many generations.” He sighed and relaxed in his chair, the wooden piece of furniture creaking. Like my father, it was showing its age.

“I know all that. I will have to be more assertive, let them all see I’m not a leader to be trifled with.”

“You are not a leader yet. You should stop worrying about future ruling and stop challenging the Russians. These ideas of yours about changing our tribe policies, it’s nonsense.”

I groaned at his familiar words. While he wasn’t openly opposing me, in private, my father had always been of the idea you shouldn’t fix what isn’t broken. Of course, his view on the tribe’s future was shortsighted. And he didn’t think much of the families who couldn’t procreate, or the many childbirth complications happening all over our territory. He’d always brush them off as something that happened to all werewolf packs. The Siberian Killers had far more stillborn babies and fewer pregnancies than most tribes. Even the Japanese fared better than us, despite their entire country not procreating enough.

Of course, I only had fresh and accurate data for a few tribes. My chance encounter with Shiki on the battlefield and my decision not to have him killed secured that. A feeble, secret alliance that I forged with Shiki and his family. The other tribes… They couldn’t be bothered to share their data with us. And why would they? They viewed us as a backwards, closed-off tribe, setting their stubborn ways. Right now, my father was failing at proving them wrong.

“Tell that to my mother, or to all the women in our tribe who are either dead or barren.”

Chinggis growled and slammed his fist against the desk, making the laptop and its camera jump. “Don’t you dare speak of your mother.”

“Why not? I showed you the data. You can hide behind whatever you need to, the harsh reality will still be there when you’re done. Our tribe is fading fast. We are behind all others. The only difference that could cause us such harm, the only one anyone could find, is that we don’t play well with others. We think we’re better than all other werewolves and refuse to mix with them.”

My father stood, pushing his chair back. “You shut your mouth, boy! You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, I do. Nothing like having people look at you as if you killed your mother to make sure you’re focused on getting to the bottom of her death.”

My father gasped, his clenched fists relaxing. “I have never treated you like that.”

“Others weren’t so kind.” I rolled my shoulders and sighed. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Just… I don’t know, read that report I made for you. You’ll understand.”

“Even if I do, nothing’s going to change. This tribe needs stability, otherwise it crashes and burns in the midst of internal fighting.”

“But father–”

“Enough! I won’t hear of it anymore. You stay there, where it’s safe, while I find out what the hell is going on in my tribe.”

“Whatever you say, my alpha,” I said, smirking and glaring at him. A bit of an overkill, but I was tired of hiding my disappointment from him.

“Once this is settled in the tribes are bowing down to our will, I don’t want any more discussion over tribe policies from you.”

I huffed and closed the lid of my own laptop. I’d pay for that offense later. Chinggis wasn’t kind to disrespectful brats. That was all I was to him: a brat throwing a tantrum. I wondered, of all the Siberian Killers werewolves, was my father the one who thought the least of me?

He’d always treated me like I’d never matured, like all the lessons ever imparted with me had gone in one ear and out the other. He wasn’t going to change his opinion now just because I’d survived an attack on my life. I showed strength, cunning, but nothing more. He still doubted my leadership and intelligence.

I threw my laptop to the side and watched it bounce on the couch seat. It hadn’t helped much and I was too dejected to throw it against the wall for a more rewarding result. I grunted and pushed myself up, thinking of burning all that resentment and fury on a long run.

It hadn’t taken me long to get pretty, but it had felt like forever, my anger flaring, the walls closing in on me. I burst through the back door and I was running the second my feet touched the ground. Despite wearing hiking boots, I still slid a little, almost losing my footing. I recovered fast and sped up, making for the uphill slope that started a few feet from the cabin. It was a punishing ascent, which was exactly what I needed.

Halfway through to the peak, my breath was coming out in heavy pants and my muscles were protesting the punishing rhythm I had set. I hadn’t banished all the anger, so there was no incentive to stop. I’d keep going until I was calm enough or too exhausted to care. After that, well, I didn’t know what came next. As long as it wasn’t me having an aneurysm because my father had pissed me off, I’d call it a win.

The peak was a breath away and I couldn’t wait to reach it. I’d probably fall on my ass from the exertion of running up a hillside, but as I closed in on it, I finally started to feel better. That incredible view I knew awaited would work off everything: my worries, this feeling of impotence when it came to helping my tribe, it would all fade. These hills, these mountains, much like the ones in my homeland, had seen plenty a civilization fade away. If my tribe was destined to be a failing page in a sacred history book, nature wouldn’t care.

I heaved and threw myself into that last sprint to the top. I flew over the peak on a roar and hit something hard. It felt as if I’d thrown myself against the wall, but the pained grunt told me otherwise.

“Fuck. Watch where you’re going, asshole!”

At first, I’d just been happy I hadn’t fallen on my ass. It was moments like these when I was most grateful for werewolf instincts. The moment I realized I’d hit somebody, I wanted to apologize. Cristian’s fresh anger dispelled that notion in no time.

I growled, taking a more assertive stance. I clenched my fists, bending a little forward. The vibrant gold surrounding his pupils spurred me on. As it happened for me, that golden mark got more intense when emotions flared or when someone was about to turn. Who was Cristian to show such anger at the mere sight of me, to make me feel as if my simple presence was enough to drive someone mad?

“What the hell do you have against me?”

Cristian’s upper lip went slightly up, revealing his perfect teeth. He stepped closer, his eyes trained on mine, a low rumble vibrating from his throat.

I wanted to fight him so bad, I could feel the coppery scent of blood on my tongue, like I’d already bitten and torn his flesh open. He deserved it too, antagonizing me like this, always treating me like a piece of dirt on his shoe.

His scent, masculine, powerful, and with that hint of evergreen trees, reached me and turned my blood cold. Anger left me just as it had arrived. I could fight Cristian, I’d probably win. I suspected we were evenly matched, but the pent-up frustration, disappointment, and fear of death that had been following me ever since my escape in Russia would have tipped the odds in my favor. What was the point, though? I’d literally bite the hand that fed me, returning the favor of safety through aggression.

I sighed and threaded my fingers through my hair, pulling once I’d grabbed enough for it to hurt. “I can’t do this right now. Just… Sorry for bumping into you.” I turned on my heel and started on the long way down.

My clothes felt uncomfortable, sweat from my run soaking them. I wasn’t cold, but maybe I just couldn’t feel it, and all I wanted was to be back at the cabin. I closed my eyes and thought of a hot shower, booze to drown my sorrows in, and the blissful forgetfulness that would follow.

I was too tired to handle anything but my next step. Too exhausted of trying so hard to convince my tribe I was right. Certainly too tired to deal with why Cristian’s rejection and outright dislike of me bothered me so much.

I cleared my head of everything and focused on the trail I was walking. It wouldn’t do to stumble and fall. So I kept my eyes on the prize, following my own footsteps back to the cabin. The sound of the wind through trees soothed me, but I wished for more. The constant buzzing of the woods in the spring, of birds and bees and other critters milling about. The wind would have to do for now. I chuckled, thinking that had been my way of thinking for a long time. “It would have to do for now.” I was tired of making do. I wished for more, but more was unavailable. Maybe when all of this was sorted, the tribe, my future, the bigger worries, I could stop for a minute and think of what I wanted. Then go for it, and give up on being thankful for whatever was available.

Anger flared again, directed at everything and everyone. I breathed through it, trying to meditate like Shiki had unsuccessfully tried to teach me. It seemed to be working, not wanting to do with anything and finding it too tiresome proving to be the secret to successful meditation. I laughed inwardly, not willing to spend the energy on doing it out loud.

Before I knew it, I arrived back at the cabin. I dragged my feet inside, closed the door behind me, and started to take everything off as I made my way to the shower. I turned the water on and stepped under the spray of water, not waiting for it to be hot enough. The chilly drops touching my skin made me shudder but I forced myself to endure, hoping the cold part of my shower would clear my head of all the worries I’d been carrying.

By the time the water warmed up, I felt more relaxed. I braced myself against the creamy tiles and rolled my shoulders. I let my head hang, hot splashes helping release the tension in my neck. It felt good, the simple pleasures of life, and I knew I’d never take it for granted again. I sighed and touched my forehead to the cold tiles. Whenever I let them, thoughts of the freezing cold I’d endured would sneak up on me, and I trembled as if exposed to the blizzard once more.

When the water started to turn cold again, I forced myself out of the shower. I forwent the towels and wrapped myself in the fluffy robe instead. A cozy fire and some hot chocolate would be perfect right now, anything to remind myself I was safe and warm. I certainly wasn’t too proud to admit my ordeal haunted me and it would be a while until I could face snowy mountains without a tinge of dread.

I got the fire going and put on a kettle to boil water for the hot chocolate powder in the pantry. A knock on the door interrupted my progress. I swore under my breath and dropped the packet I was holding on the counter and made my way to the cabin entrance.

I yanked the door open, thinking I’d get rid of whoever it was as fast as I could.

Cristian smiled, not meeting my eyes. “Hey there, I got us dinner.” He wiggled the sealed dish he was carrying, and although I couldn’t sense it, I could see the juicy steaks through the clear top.

I raised my eyebrows, aware that my mouth was gaping. I tried to say something, but had no idea what.

“Oh, and entertainment too,” Cristian said, raising his other hand which was holding a dusty bottle of what I assumed to be alcohol. “Are you gonna let me in or are we spending the night in your doorway?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again. I had the presence of mind to move out of the way and let Cristian inside.

“I felt like barbecuing tonight. The chef is good, but I think I’m better. My grandma, now she can host a mean barbecue. I have learned all her secrets, so you’re in for a treat.”

I stared at Cristian’s back, wondering if I had fallen in a parallel universe. I shut the door and followed Cristian into the kitchen, watching him take out plates and cutlery.

“The steaks are medium rare, maybe a bit more on the rare side. If you preferred them otherwise, just say the word. The barbecue is still running so I can throw them on for a few more minutes.”

I didn’t get what was happening, wondering if I should pinch myself. I’d have to count to make sure, but I believed he’d said more words to me since arriving at my door then he’d said in the entire time I’d known him.

Cristian half-turned, looking at me over his shoulder. “You okay?” He wiggled the plate with a steak on it. “I have some French fries here, hope that works.”

“Did you get some better news or something? Is a horde of Russians coming to kill me?”

Cristian placed the plate he’d been holding on the breakfast bar and fully faced me. He winced when we made eye contact, his shoulder slumping. “Look, Ganzorig, I’m sorry.”

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. “Sorry for what?”

Cristian sighed and braced himself on the breakfast bar. “For earlier, most of all. But also for how I’ve acted lately.”

“It’s fine.”

He licked his lips and watched me intently. “Is it now? You look tense and not particularly forgiving.”

I tried to smile but it faltered. I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. It felt messy and unclean under my fingers, despite my recent shower. “I don’t know, Cristian. I’m simple. I am gay, you’re hot, I know I tend to drool over you. So I tried to tone it down and even apologize if I’ve offended you.”

“You didn’t, it wasn’t like that.” He looked sheepish and even that looked good on him.

“Cristian, just let me finish.” I stared him down until he nodded his approval. “You are the furthest thing from simple though. You’re either angry or territorial with me, and the only explanation was some bullshit line about what you prefer in partners.”

“It’s not bullshit.” He shrugged and looked away. “I’ve been through enough rocky relationships to know what I need. The problem is what I need doesn’t always align with what I want.”

I could have told him he’d never bothered to ask what I liked. Hell, Cristian could have spent a little more time with me and gotten to know me before making some blanket statements that apparently included me. I could have, but instead I sat and slumped in my usual chair and waved the entire conversation off. “Fine, I get it, let’s just drop this. Frankly, I don’t think I have the energy for it.”

“Let’s just enjoy dinner then,” Cristian said, pushing the plate in front of me and turning to get his own.

I could do that, have a nice meal with him, talk about nothing and forget everything that worried me. Just for tonight, I did enjoy myself. I sure as hell wasn’t up for anything else anyway.

***

I laughed through packing, surprised at how much I’d accumulated during such a short stay. Shiki and Cristian had made sure I had plenty of clothes, toiletries, and the required laptop and phone. I didn’t own a proper bag, my father called to tell me to rush home, I had to borrow one from Cristian.

Cristian’s sleepy face popped into the room through the cracked door. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, in a minute.”

“Cool, I’ll go warm up the car then. We can head to the airport the moment you’re ready.”

I growled, trying to force everything in the bag and close it. I didn’t know how the rush to suddenly get back home had come about, especially since my father had insisted I stayed before this morning. I wasn’t going to question him though. I was tired of feeling like an exiled wolf.

Bag packed and ready to go, I stood at the foot of the bed and looked around the room. The sleep, modern furniture, the quality bedding, the nice art on the walls, they were pretty standard for such a resort. Nothing homey about it, but I’d miss it anyway. Even the friction with Cristian had been somewhat pleasurable. I mentally slapped myself at the thought, I really was a glutton for punishment.

With a final sigh, I left the bedroom and went right out of the cabin, saying goodbye to the place where I’d been the most relaxed in months. That said a lot about my life, seeing how I’d come here after a terrifying ordeal.

I slid in the passenger seat and buckled up without looking at Cristian. He’d been a lot friendlier after our barbecue a few nights earlier. Nothing to write home about, but enough to add to his general hotness. I knew I’d miss him, no matter how silly that sounded. God I was a creep! The man wanted nothing to do with me and I’d miss ogling him.

We rode to the airport in silence. Not the commercial one, because Shiki had deemed it not safe enough. So Cristian was driving me to a smaller one a few kilometers away, where I’d board a private plane. I guessed I owed Shiki’s mate a lot.

The drive seemed short and yet too long at the same time. I feared the moment I’d say goodbye to Cristian. What if all my thoughts about him will show in that moment? I was such a hot mess, so I dreaded what was to come. On the other hand, I wanted more time with him, now that we’d moved past angry staring contests.

I sighed and leaned my head against the cold window. I was used to not getting what I wanted. I always got by just fine. Right now though, I just didn’t want to make do. I’d have to put that on hold until the next time I saw Cristian and I have no ideal and that would be.

Cristian tried to talk to me, but all his attempts ended up with one-liners. I was too guarded, and I guess he wasn’t awake enough to keep trying. It was the crack of dawn so I couldn’t fault him. I still used every opportunity I got to steal a glance his way.

Once we arrived at the airport, I expected to be left to my own devices. Instead, Cristian threw my bag over his shoulder and followed me inside the small building. Some airport official greeted us, werewolf by scent, and that explained why Cristian was allowed through security without any plans of flying out.

“Can’t risk it,” Cristian said, responding to my silent question. “You’re safe on the plane and I’ll make damn sure nothing happens to you before you board.”

I huffed and shook my head. “I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I am aware. Still, better safe than sorry. I certainly would not want to have to explain your father why I didn’t keep you safe on mining territory.”

I smiled and looked at my shoes. He wasn’t wrong, my father wouldn’t have been too pleasant to talk to if anything harmed me.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” I said as we were passing through the corridor leading to the adjoining hanger where my plane was.

I hit the wall and grunted, unaware what had pushed me. Before I had a chance to clear my head, Cristian’s lips were on top of mine. He kissed me, demanding entry, and taking no prisoners. I melted as he pressed into me, the cold wall at my back. I think I moaned but I couldn’t be sure. I was too busy clutching his shoulders and pulling him closer.

As his tongue explored my mouth, I shuddered and my knees turned to jelly. Had I not been pressed so snuggly between his hard body and the wall, I would have certainly fallen on my ass.

Cristian dropped the bag, the sound of it hitting the floor echoing throughout the corridor. He grabbed my hips and pushed his body closer, his hard-on pressing into my belly. I loved that he was so tall, that he could so easily overpower me. I moaned, this time the sound so loud and clear I couldn’t be unsure about it. Cristian’s home sounds of pleasure made my entire body buzz.

Too soon, Cristian pulled back. It took me a second to open my eyes, not sure I wanted to discover what his expression would be. I couldn’t cower out of it, so I took a deep breath and looked at him. His dark brown hair looked a hot mess, probably my fault. His lips were wet and a bit swollen. What caught my eye above anything else was his smile. Bold, predatory almost, definitely unapologetic.

I grinned back and pushed myself off the wall, hoping my feet were steady. I reached out and wrapped my hand around his neck pulling him in for a quick peck. “That is one way to make an impression before we part.”

He winked and kissed my forehead before moving away from me. He picked up the bag and placed his free hand on the small of my pack, guiding me to the awaiting jet. “I’ll see you around, Ganzorig.”

Got dammit, that sultry voice of his, deep and rumbly, did unspeakable things to me. It was a miracle I wasn’t stumbling all over my own feet and planting face down on the floor.