Henry thought that if this was what dying felt like, he wanted to do it again and again and again. He was so warm in this place, after being so very cold for so very long. He wasn’t sure where he was, or even when he was. He remembered he’d spent about a week in the woods, and he remembered running, and pain, and then cold. He had been so sure that his life was over. Maybe he had died and this warmth that cocooned him was heaven.

Did men like him get to go to heaven? He was certainly pushing the limit of Christian rhetoric, but he had never given it much thought before finding himself in this situation. He had worked as a specialist surgeon in the Southern Maine hospitals, helping his patients in their own transitions and building his reputation until he could afford his own gender reassignment surgery. He had intended to get a few more procedures done, but the responsibilities of running the pack kept him too busy to take the amount of time away that would be necessary to heal. The other pack members would have noticed. They knew he was a surgeon, but he never told them exactly what it was that he specialized in.

As he had continued to embrace his male identity, he had also worked hard to build his reputation, using male pronouns and adopting the name Henry. Henry, born Henrietta Amiraut, had a multitude of labels that Christianity and other religious sects believed would deem him unworthy of Heaven. Henry had always believed that God wouldn’t really care about his identity and sexual preferences. He had always been a decent person, and that was surely what counted the most. Or so he thought. Growing up in the streets of Portland had been hard, and he’d done some shady things to survive, but he’d had no choice. Surely God would take his life circumstances into consideration. He supposed he would have to open his eyes now and look into the face of whichever deity had ahold of him, and face his judgment.

What he found didn’t resemble any diety that he’d seen before. Instead, a pair of pale, jade-green eyes stared earnestly into his. The eyes belonged to a man, and that man was holding him, and his lips were moving. Henry’s ears hurt and there was a shrill ringing overtaking every other sound, but it was fading as his consciousness solidified. He was having a hard time understanding what the man was saying, and it took a few moments before Henry could focus enough to make out the words.

“Henry,” he croaked in answer to the question. His veil of safety began to disintegrate as the man holding him stiffened. As his defense mechanisms began to kick in, he realized there was a redheaded woman in the room with them as well. She moved to stand over the two of them intertwined on the bed, and Henry continued to gaze into the eyes of the man whose face had shifted from tender to impassive.

He could feel the hands of the woman on his body, gently and methodically prodding him, and he surmised by the feel of latex that she was a medical professional of some kind. When her fingers brushed his hips, he flinched and tried to move out of her reach. He didn’t like anyone touching his groin, unless he invited them to. He’d had lovers since his first surgery ten years ago, and after each subsequent surgery he became more comfortable with his sexuality. But he never brought men home. He had always sought them out and they were always from outside his pack.

The pack. It wasn’t his anymore. He winced as the emotional pain of his loss became an almost physical ache.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” She was looking between him and the man in the bed with him. The man was broad and solid, emitting so much body heat that Henry thought he was going to cook him alive. He muttered something softly to the woman that Henry couldn’t make out. The irritating pressure of water in his ears continued to make soft sounds murky in his ears, as if he were hearing through cotton. She nodded and continued her prodding. Henry reached down and grabbed her wrist. Her face went pale and Henry heard a soft growl and felt the rumble of the man’s chest next to his own.

“Please don’t,” Henry whispered, mumbling his words into the man’s chest, trying to appear small and demure. Henry really wished the man would relax. Henry was clearly in no state to challenge him. He had been passing as an alpha for so many years, it felt strange to be acting submissive now, but he knew his life depended on it. Henry had picked up the nuances and habits of alpha behavior and mimicked it so perfectly, he had never been doubted by a member of his pack. Henry had never told anyone he was an omega. A peacekeeper.

Henry was more inclined to resolve issues rather than resort to violence, but sometimes survival dictated the necessity of violence. He didn’t want to challenge the Alpha, he really just wanted to fall back asleep, but he would protect himself, if need be.

The woman stopped her prodding and backed off, averting her eyes. Henry tried to twist in the Alpha’s arms, but the man held on tightly.

“Don’t worry… I won’t…” Henry tried to reassure the woman he would not hurt her, but the Alpha shook his head with one sharp movement, and Henry fell silent.

“Go, Colette. I’ll take it from here.”

After the woman shut the door softly behind her, Henry tried to wiggle out of the man’s strong arms, but the Alpha held tighter still.

“I know who you are.” The Alpha’s tone was soft, but Henry was still too disoriented from all of the events that had happened to ascertain if it was a threat or not. The subtleties of vocal inflection alluded him.

“Who are you?” Henry asked, looking up into the Alpha’s still-guarded eyes.

“Louis. Louis LaFavre.” Henry knew that name. Why did he know that name? His thoughts remained clouded, confused.

“Where am I?”

“In my home in Bangor.” The name of the city sent a visceral response through him. He tensed, wondering if he even had the strength to run if he needed to. Bangor, Bangor...why did the name of the city cause him such fear?

Things didn’t come back to Henry in a rush or a flood. The memories didn’t slam into his consciousness in an instant. The growing fear and dread continued to well inside him as he struggled to place the two names. Bangor and Louis LaFavre. Henry was slowly realizing that he was in more danger than he had been back on his own turf. Louis and his pack were the outcasts of sophisticated werewolf society. He knew that the pack had originated in Bangor and then had spread out across northern Maine, as Louis helped them adapt to living civilly together despite their differences. Because of Louis’ ragtag group of outcasts, the werewolf population within the state had become divided. It was common knowledge that Louis housed the wolves he had the most difficulty controlling in his own home, almost like a rehab facility.

He had made an enemy of the rich and powerful members of his own pack who would have seen the wolves he was in the company of now as in need of being disposed of. Whether it was because they shunned pack life and preferred to be lone wolves, or they were alphas who struggled with being dominated, Louis had taken them all in and found them positions within his pack that suited their needs. They were their own officials and leaders, game wardens and tour guides. Louis helped anyone who needed his help, even those whose gender identities and sexualities were nontraditional. Henry himself was gay and transgendered, but he had hidden it well. The southern wolves were traditionalists, like much of the state’s populace, and they would attack a wolf if he or she didn’t fall into a traditional role. Henry was by no means the most dominant alpha in the south, but he certainly was well respected enough that people left him alone, even if they did badger him as to why he had not yet taken a mate.

There had been a skirmish on the border between the north and south not very long ago. Henry had sent delegates of his pack to investigate on his behalf, and Louis had done the same. Henry’s delegates had challenged Louis’ pack members and they met in combat, and won. They’d reported back reporting Louis’ unusual pack preference, and ever since then, the packs had been at each other’s throats.

Henry tried to scramble out of bed again, but Louis was stronger. The pain of Henry’s many cuts and bruises hit him, and he moaned out in pain at the force of being held. Henry was bone tired, but his mind and reflexes were as sharp as ever. He was still in survival mode, even though he was out of the woods.

“Let go of me!” He attempted to push off Louis’ chest, but Louis captured his wrists. Henry felt the swell of heat in his chest as his wolf struggled to the surface. Even his beast was exhausted. The only reason he hadn’t perished in the wild, as any normal human certainly would have, was because his wolf had given him the strength to go on. But now Henry’s wolf felt threatened. He attempted to shout a warning in his panic, but his voice died in his throat as Louis flipped him around on the bed, and suddenly his back was pressed to Louis’ chest.

Henry was panting and trying to break free from Louis’ grip, but he felt Louis’ calm, even breaths in his ear and somehow it lowered his anxiety by a degree. “Hold still. I’m not going to hurt you. If my pack knew who you were, they’d call you my enemy. But that isn’t how I treat my enemies, Henry.”

“Then let me go! I didn’t know I had traveled so far north. I didn’t know I was in your territory! I’ll leave and go south, to Massachusetts, I swear it. Let go.”

Henry felt the warmth of Louis’ mouth seal over the back of his neck and he stilled instantly. Damn his body and his beast for reacting! An omega would fight if it was necessary, but they still needed a dominant partner to feel truly secure. Henry had been so long without the reassurance of an alpha that he froze in place and relaxed almost instantly when Louis teeth sank into his flesh, just enough to pin him in place. It was a gesture that was done mostly with children, usually a firm grip in a big strong hand would work, but occasionally the feel of the powerful jaw was necessary to diffuse the situation if it was getting out of hand. Henry hated that Louis had felt his body respond. Henry also hated that he was submitting to Louis, and he could feel the energy of Louis’ true alpha wolf subside. Louis had been dangerously close to changing, but as soon as he felt Henry’s body slacken, his whole body had relaxed.

Henry tried to keep the trembling from his limbs, so he clamped his hands under his arms as he lay there. Henry also tried to keep his heavy eyelids to keep from shutting, but they too seemed intent on betraying him. Henry felt his head fall forward, bearing his neck in further acquiesce to Louis, and he wiggled into the warmth of Louis’ arms rather than against it. The realization hit that his body was responding to Louis in the most dangerous way possible.

Henry wasn’t sure how long they lay there, but eventually Louis loosened his jaw and let go. Damn it, he missed the slight pressure of Louis’ teeth on his neck. Henry once again tried to sit up, but Louis’ arms held tight. He was so tired of struggling.

“Why are you so far north, Henry?” Louis’ voice was quiet. Henry wondered what Louis was going to do, and what exactly he should tell him. If Henry told Louis the truth, Louis might kill him. If he didn’t tell Louis the truth, Louis would kill him. If Henry lied, Louis would sense it. Louis was going to find out sooner or later, and so perhaps he should take the chance that Louis might accept his presence if he appealed to his sympathy for those who were different.

“I’ll go away. As soon as I can, I’ll go south and I’ll…”

“That’s not what I asked you.” Henry felt Louis’ chin on top of his head, and he hated that he was being spooned. Henry felt so weak. Henry had been vicious in his survival skills on the streets and he had been powerful leading his pack on the coast. Was he being punished for making his way in the world and thinking he finally had it all? Henry was well aware his old gang was still in Portland, thinking Henrietta Amiraut had run off somewhere or run home to her rich and powerful family from Yarmouth. Henry never knew if they suspected him. Henry sent money to them monthly, never knowing if it made it to them. Never knowing if they used it to get themselves off the streets. Sometimes, trying to change the way survivalists lived was even worse for them. They couldn’t cope with civilized society unless they themselves had made the decision to be ready for it. Henry could understand the fine line they had been walking for so long, and he felt he was walking it once again now.

“I’m…I’m…” Henry didn’t want to say it. He couldn’t say it. To admit that he was being hunted down by his own pack was too much. He’d already been much to vulnerable.

“They found you out,” Louis stated simply, and Henry froze. He could hear his heart begin to thump loudly. Adrenaline kicked in and Henry fought harder than ever against Louis, even though so much of his energy had been depleted. He was surprised by his own strength which welled up in him as a result of having had to fight for his own identity for so long. It was more than just the strength necessary to survive. This was the strength that he’d built up within himself to maintain the courage to become who he really was. He’d wanted that more than anything. More than the money and prestige of leading his own pack. He wanted the hysterectomy, the removal of his uterus, the phalloplasty, the structuring of his penis, the metoidioplasty which had lengthened his clit, and the scrotoplasty, creating his scrotum, and after all of that, he finally felt right in his own skin. Henry wasn’t about to let go of that sense of self. Maybe it was pride and maybe it was fear, perhaps the combination of both was what enabled him to break free from Louis’ arms and tumble out of bed.

Henry whirled onto his back on the floor, staring up at Louis who had sprung from the bed after him and was kneeling over him. “Easy. Take it easy, Henry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Henry bared his teeth and let the sheen of yellow cloud his eyes and alter his perception. He let his wolf emerge. Henry wasn’t about to take a chance with the one thing that had mattered most, that he had struggled the hardest for in his life.