He was running. Blood pounded in his ears, the thunderous sound drowning out all others. He tried desperately to hold his breath to keep himself from outright panting, and silently he tried to will his heart to return to normal. If he wasn’t careful he’d be heard. It was bad enough that any moment the wind could shift—or his pursuer would circle round to an advantageous position.

Fear of capture loomed in the front of his mind as if a cloud hung over him as an ill omen. He would not last like this—he had to get himself under control. If he was caught, the consequences were dire. He squeezed his eyes shut and contained the fearful whine that threatened to escape his muzzle.

The attack came without warning.

The massive wolf came sailing over the brush, snarling a war cry that sent the birds scattering skyward. Before Dallas could move, the wolf was on top of him, its immense weight pinning him to the ground. He froze, fear lancing through him for the hundredth time today. He lay on his side, staring sideways up at the wolf who looked down at him. This time he tilted his head up, exposing the expanse of red throat.

The wolf atop him immediately dropped the snarling, and nuzzled against his neck and ear. Hot breathe prickled his ear and teased at the fur where his teeth soon nibbled playfully. Dallas wuffed almost irritably, though they both knew the junior wolf was not truly mad. He stood when allowed, nuzzling against the much bigger form of Roman.

The night he’d been attacked he’d thought the animal was a dark brown, perhaps black. In fact, Roman was a beautiful tawny-ochre color with deep russet, black, and white highlights. He looked almost like a timber wolf, though his size and the strange length of his coat gave him away as something else. He was downright fluffy, and over the last month and a half of training, the new wolf had let his mentor know.

They’d begun to bond the night that Dallas had ‘met’ his wolf and changed. It seemed a lifetime ago, but that had been the first day of his new life. He could still remember how scared he had been; how long it had taken to change the first time. He’d been starving when he regained his man shape, and he’d felt the concern of his wolf to take care of himself. Yet even before he’d done so, he had seen to Roman.

Convincing the heir apparent to the Pack Alpha’s title to allow him to look at that hurt had been a battle, but fortified with the strength of his tranquil wolf, Dallas had won the argument. He still remembered what Roman’s back had looked like. If he allowed himself to think on it it still made him queasy to think of how the lashes looked, criss-crossing along the broad expanse of his spine. Flesh was missing, and though Roman had healed, the scars persisted. Even as a wolf, criss-crosses of fur stood stiffly along his back. Roman had said it was a ‘light’ punishment for what he’d done.

Dallas had forgiven him mostly for the bite—it was hard to be mad when in the end he’d gained his wolf, and he’d never trade the Omega for all the days of normalcy again. He longed to show him beautiful places and to find the best game to chase. He had found early on he was far more adept at chasing and catching birds and other small game then the rest of the wolves. He had not been allowed to run with the pack and had little interest in doing so. The other wolves looked at him as if they were not sure if he were truly a wolf at all. While Roman had warned him that they would not be entirely friendly, he had not elaborated that they would often look at him as if he was dinner.

Roman stretched heartily, his chest touching the ground and tail curling over his spine in a bow. He straightened and yawned, before nudging the smaller wolf towards the cabin. They both knew it was time for lunch, and then another bout of training. This time, he would train in his human form. Roman had told him conditioning would help his changes, and so he would diligently work on his physique. The more muscle he carried, the easier it would be for his change.

Dallas trotted towards the cabin, picking through the light dusting of snow. He frowned at the paw prints he’d seen leading to the thicket he had hid in and eyed the larger wolf with suspicion. Roman’s jaws dropped open into a merry grin, and he wagged his tail in confirmation. Yes; he’d seen the paw prints, and they had led him straight to the smaller wolf. Dallas snorted and trotted on without looking back to see if Roman would follow.

Over the last month the two had gotten closer; and their wolves especially close. Despite Dallas' apprehension, he had allowed the wolf he now shared a body with to show affection. The human halves did not touch as often as the wolves, unless it was sparring. Other than that, they hardly touched each other. Yet the wolves more than made up with it with their affection towards each other.

As they neared the sight of the cabin, Dallas felt a little bit of nostalgia. He would miss this place when he went home again. He’d gone with Roman to Andrea’s funeral, and had seen the ‘benefactor’ contact her husband and children. They would be set up for life, and it would appear as only a life insurance policy. It had done Dallas good to know that they would be taken care of so well, though it could never replace the mother they’d lost.

The police had questioned him, but he’d had a verifiable excuse. With eight other witnesses stating he’d spent a romantic weekend in with his companion at the manor house, he’d been cleared of all wrongdoing, and the insurance company had even replaced what was broken. It couldn’t replace the hurt he felt, the guilt, or the life of his cat Thor, but it was at least a start. He’d decided he would move as soon as he was able to live alone again. He wasn’t sure where, but he didn’t want to stay in the little apartment. Roman had agreed that it was probably for the best that he move away from the place he’d first changed . It would serve to do nothing but hurt him.

As they reached the cabin, they both walked to different sides of it. While they’d found that Dallas' presence did ease Roman’s transformation, cutting it down to a svelte four minutes instead of his usual twelve, it took Dallas nearly an hour to change back to a man, and if he were with Roman nearby it always took longer. So they went their separate ways, changing on their own.

When Dallas came into the cabin,fumbling for the thick robe that hung by the door, he already knew that Roman would have his clothes warming over the fire, and food would already be cooking. The venison that Roman stored in the underground freezer was going faster than Dallas had thought it would. As he grabbed a bowl of the venison stew Roman had put on low before they’d left for their morning exercise, he curled up in his robe on the old couch, shaking with the cold and adrenaline spike the pain of change had triggered.

Since he’d moved into the quaint cabin, he’d come to enjoy the peace. Yes, he could still use technology out here, and yet he found himself less and less inclined to do so. He found he was much more interested in learning about his new wolf and the doors his companion could open for him. Of course, the vantage point a wolf had was far different from one a man had, and though there were sometimes moments of disorientation for both wolf and man, they managed as best they could.

Changing to and from a wolf was not the only thing Roman had to train him to do. The Alpha trained him to control his strength and when he changed. He wasn’t always pressed into a change, but like most wolves, high emotion such as anger or excitement would often make the pair struggle, for control with each other. He also needed to learn self-defense, as lone wolves were often known to attack first and question later. He needed to learn about the various packs, etiquette, and even how to conceal his age—because he would never look his age, as his body was simply now too good at repairing itself to allow age to leave a lasting impression. Already the slight wrinkles around his eyes were gone, and the soft curves of his waist were being replaced more and more by muscle.

His metabolism changed—and he would need to remember to eat frequently, lest he risk hurting himself or his wolf. If he was not in good condition, he wouldn’t change at all, and the lack of enough calories would surely see his wolf taking over despite his best attempt. He would have to be very careful. Worse yet, he’d have to make sure that he didn’t over eat either, and foods that had once been a favorite could not be tolerated. He’d learned early on that chocolate would make him sick, and salty foods tasted off. He’d have to change his diet—and eat a lot more meat.

Lastly, he’d had to learn to trust Roman. He hadn’t been thrilled about that part, but what could he do? At the end of the day, Roman was the only person trying to keep him alive. He didn't have to speak to the rest of the pack to know they were keen to rip him apart. Yet trapped with only Roman as company had made certain situations awkward. Firstly, he had found his wolf was automatically drawn to Roman’s. He’d found that the wolf was rather handsome and had enjoyed nuzzling up to the gargantuan beast. In fact, his wolf liked everything about Roman, much to his chagrin. Let alone the fact that his new senses—which he couldn’t control quite yet—would let him eavesdrop on the way the Alpha felt.

Emotions carried a scent, and he was learning to read them—let alone the breathing or the softest sounds he could hear from the loft at night sometimes. He knew Roman was aroused rather frequently, and though his wolf told him he was the cause, he didn’t want to believe the Alpha had any designs like that for him. After all, Roman had not so much as glanced at him with interest of any other sort save for the intense way he looked at him when being critical of his change.

Yet more and more, Dallas found himself lying on the couch, evening his breathing out and listening for the telltale sound of Roman’s arousal and pleasure. He felt guilty thinking of it; or at times he’d lay awake, patiently waiting to hear the soft snores of the Alpha, so he could do the same. He thought of what Roman might look like, aroused and atop him. Of course, there was a sick sense to that too—after all, shouldn’t he resent Roman? The Alpha more and more inspired a strangeness in him.

Roman had finished his food, and once Dallas had as well he stood, tossing a pair of sweats to the new wolf, expectant. He had been waiting for this part, and Dallas had a little niggling feeling that he secretly enjoyed the part that came next; because Dallas certainly didn’t.

“Ready?”

“...Yes. Do you have to sound so cheerful?”

“It’s fun! Don’t worry, you’ll get better at it in time.”

“I hope so. If you keep it up I'm just going to run away on my own.”

Dallas followed the Alpha into the clearing in front of the house once he’d dressed, his arms already wrapping about himself as he waited for instruction. He knew that he shouldn’t compare himself to Roman—after all, the Alpha had been doing this for years, and Dallas had only begun to practice less than a month ago.

Roman stood across from him, tying his hair up into a bun, a smirk on his lips. One day, Dallas would wipe that smile off his face, even if it killed him—he’d decided. He sighed and stretched, trying to limber up before what he knew was coming would happen. He was prepared for the first attack when Roman leapt at him suddenly. He was even able to duck and roll out of the way, sending Roman sliding past him. Dallas was on his feet long before Roman was.

The fight was going to go one of two ways—Dallas would make a mistake, or Roman would scare him into almost changing. He might even force him into a change, though the goal was that Dallas could keep from changing for any reason. It had played out almost the same way for the last month—and Dallas was not making little progress. Every day he did better and better.

Today’s result however, would be much the same as the one before. Roman came barreling towards him, intent to knock him off his feet. He managed to stay upright, but only by the barest means. Again Roman came at him, and this time he threw a punch. Dallas caught it and used it to throw Roman to the ground, backing away to give him more space. He found that the Alpha was just as dangerous on the ground as he was on his feet.

Roman had taught him well, and when he managed to corner the new wolf into a hand-to-hand fight, Dallas would have won—if he’d fought fair. Roman didn’t fight fair, because it would only teach his student to expect what the enemy certainly wouldn’t give him. It didn’t take the other wolf long to knock him to the ground, and when he was down Roman pounced, sitting atop him and pinning both wrists to the ground.

“Gotcha,” he said with triumph, his lips pulled into a grin as the other wolf lay panting under him.

“Yes, you did. You want a treat or something?”

“I mean, I’m not opposed to a biscuit, if you’ve got one on you.”

“You’re impossible! And gross!”

“You haven’t tried them. Don’t act like that’s the worst thing you’ve ever eaten.”

“I haven’t eaten it, but if I had, it would probably be the worst thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Roman laughed a deep, hearty sound. The Alpha grinned down at the Omega under him, a warm amusement settling over his usually tense features. It was one of the few smiles that he had given Dallas for no reason other than genuine happiness. Then his face sobered somewhat and he leaned down close enough for Dallas to catch the whiff of mint and musk that was his perpetual scent.

“Can I ask you something?” he rumbled.

Dallas' mind flip flopped around for a few long seconds, thinking of all the possibilities. He’d thought of the kiss he’d longed for, thinking of the way Roman might taste against his lips. He tried not to think of the sound the Alpha’s breath made when he was pleasuring himself, forgetting that Dallas could hear him. He blushed furiously, prone and pinned as he was, he desperately tried to think of anything else, and was terribly relieved that the Alpha sat atop his chest.

“Of course you can, Roman,” he tried desperately not to sound as if he were hopeful.

“Did your parents name you after anyone?”

“...Um, not that I'm aware of? Why?”

“Because, Dallas Summers is the name of a female porn star.”

Immediately Dallas' cheeks turned red, and he thrashed, growling up at the Alpha, snarling, “Get the hell off me you asshat!”

Roman laughed another big, hearty laugh and leaned down to crush his weight to the smaller man, his lips near the wolf’s ear.

“Was just wondering if that’s why you end up on your back so much,” he rumbled in a sexy little chuckle.

Dallas tried not to let the Alpha affect him—after all he didn’t mean it how the Omega wished it sounded. Instead, he tried to shove him off all the more, and when Roman slid down to sit on his hips Dallas could feel him pressed firmly on the erection he’d hoped to hide. Roman was already starting to stand and hadn’t seemed to notice much to the Omega’s horrified relief.

“C’mon, let's try again. You need more practice.” The wolf taunted, already beginning to circle.

“Actually, what’s your last name? Is Roman even your real name?” Dallas asked, frowning. He’d gone through the lessons on how he should use a fake name every few years, and how to do so.

“It’s Roman, yeah. Roman Nonyabusiness. That’s my last name.”

“Oh c’mon. You just teased me about being a possible porn star. What’s your last name?”

“Ask the Pack Alpha.”

“I am.”

For a long moment Roman stared at him, his eyes wide with surprise. Dallas was feeling smug; after all, he’d never outright shocked the Alpha wolf. Roman came stalking over as Dallas grinned and held up his hands.

“It’s a joke, don’t get upset—”

“It is not a good joke!”

Dallas was taken aback as he stared up into the angry eyes of the man in front of him. He looked as if he might strangle the Omega, if only for his own frustration.

“It isn’t a joke, Dallas. Outside of this clearing? It would have…it would have dire consequences for the both of us. Don’t say it again. I can’t protect you from what will happen to you if you aren’t focused on learning. Breaches of conduct are just as readily an excuse to do murder as theft. I am not the Pack Alpha. I am Alpha only in what I am; and that means I am a leader. One misstep, and you will be executed in a gruesome game where the pack will chase you down and rip you apart. Take this seriously. You are nowhere near ready. You can’t defend yourself, you can’t track, and you can’t hide. You aren’t ready for it, and you need to get ready for the possibility that you might have to fight. I promise you, whoever has to fight you in that moment? They’ll win. You’ll lose. So you need to get serious, now. Game time is over.”

“All right…al; right. I’m sorry.”

Roman stalked to the other side of the clearing without a word, turning and dropping into a fighting stance. He was tense in all the right way, ready to attack again. He was only waiting for Dallas to do the same. The look in Roman’s eye told him he would be paying for that remark for a long time. He took a deep breath, shook himself off, and dropped into a defensive posture.

His mind turned Roman’s warning over and over again, concern turning his stomach in queasy circles. Roman wasn’t kidding; they had a lot to go over, and Dallas already felt as if he were at his limit. He didn’t need perfect mastery over the things he was required to do—but he needed better mastery over himself and the wolf he now resided with. He knew that Roman didn’t want him hurt, but his snap had been enough to make the Omega rethink the idea that he might be attached. Dallas had to keep reminding himself—he was leaving as soon as he had proved he could survive alone. He’d lied to Roman; any pact over a baby certainly wasn’t going to happen. There was no way Dallas was going to leave a child of his own with someone as crazy as Roman had to be to ask. If he was to carry and bear a child, the baby would stay with Dallas. Forced into a corner, Dallas could lie not only to save his own life, but to buy himself some time.

He knew he was in for a very long evening when Roman snarled and charged him at top speed.