Chapter 4
"What the hell?" I gasped, leaning weakly against the brick wall of the alley. I put my hand to my head and winced. "That was fucked up.".
"You're all right now," the older man said, addressing me. My heart raced when the man's stunning blue eyes met mine. He was absolutely beautiful. I had always found that older human men grew handsomer with age. That stretched even further when applied to wolf shifters.
"Your name is Charles?" I asked, hoping that I had gotten the men's names right. Charles smiled and nodded.".
I paused to get my breath and eye the man up and down. He was stunningly beautiful. He looked like he'd been working with his hands all his life. His entire body was shaking with deliberate muscles; not the bloated kind like Williams's, that looked like you had to spend hours of your life in a gym to get, but the kind that suggested this man knew exactly how to utilize his body.
He was wearing a white V-neck t-shirt that hugged his figure, and a splinter of silver hair was sticking out, stuck to his muscular chest. His legs were clad in close-fitting jeans that gave a good glimpse of the treasure concealed underneath. Charles did not say a word as I inspected him, and ultimately turned to leave.
Wait, I whispered, pursuing the man. My legs were jelly from the attack, but I could not stand to let the man leave my life in this manner. "My name is Lyon."
"Nice to meet you, Lyon," Charles smiled at me. His teeth were pearly white perfection. Everything regarding shifters was desirable, and in one way or another, this fellow had been able to find the fountain of youth. Though his hair was graying, he appeared as energetic and quick on his feet as the finest men I was familiar with. "What do you bring yourself here for anyway? This is not exactly the kind of place a man like you would be coming to often. Nothing but trouble with some of these guys."
I was surprised that Charles would be stereotyping the shifters in the bar.
"Oh, you don't like shifters?" I stuttered. "I thought."
"No, I love shifters. I'm a shifter," replied Charles, shooting a lightning bolt of electricity into my eyes. My heart pounded as Charles continued to speak. "I just think this club draws a seedy crowd. The kinds of people who come here are a little bit of the wild kind, you know?"
"Yeah, I guess so," I replied, shuddering at the recollection of the attack on me.
"Why are you here then?" Charles pushed. He wasn't too eager to drop the question. I suppose it did sort of seem odd for a person like me to be just lurking about somewhere where shifters could give the wrong impression about me. He clearly couldn't make the look work, and Charles seemed to pierce right through me.
His question was, in effect, saying, "You're not man enough to be here." Although it smarted as a challenge and I blushed, I felt bound to answer nonetheless.
"I'm here because I wanted to see a wolf shifter," I admitted. "I've never been with one before and I thought…"
Charles raised an eyebrow, a wise, wistful look on his face.
"I don't know. My life is kinda turned around right now," I sighed. Samuel smiled.
"Can't be that bad, you ain't dead yet."
"No…I'm still here," I agreed. However, it felt terrible, and I was sure that the older man was probably teasing me. He probably had a husband out there somewhere waiting for him to come back.
Then, all of a sudden, my phone rang and pulled me out of the idea. I stared at it and let out a scream of terror. It was a text on my DickFang app from the repulsive shifter I had spoken to, and had finally managed to get out of my mind. With Charles around, it was easier to be able to put out of my mind what had just happened. Now it sat before me all over again.
"What is it?" Charles asked, pinching and standing up to look over my shoulder at the screen.
I'm stalking you home after dark, baby twink.
"That idiot," Charles sighed. "Let me go get my jacket."
"What for?" I asked, bewildered.
"I'm going to have to take you home with me tonight to protect you from that moron."
My heart leaped into my throat and Charles disappeared into the club for a moment. He returned seconds later, wearing a leather jacket draped over his muscular frame and a smile playing at the edges of his lips.
"Come on," he said.
I did as instructed, not knowing what else to do. It wasn't usually that I was in so daft a predicament, but in some way or another, I'd ended up with the protection of someone like Charles. What did he want from me, I asked myself? Maybe I could cook for him, or do the cleaning…
"Put this on," Charles instructed, stepping to a side to stop besides a beautiful motorbike. It was the best in the car park, even though everyone had ridden to the club that night on bikes. It was glaring, even during the night under moonlight, and I looked at the black helmet that Charles simply shoved into my hands. I cinched it around my head.
"Do you have to do that?" I stammered as Charles mounted the bicycle. "I can just head home. He doesn't know where I am."
"Silly boy," Charles muttered, his head wagging. "That man can smell you and your fear. He'll be all over you like white on rice, wherever you are in the city. But he knows better than to tread on my ground. I'm respected here. Now close your pretty mouth and hold on. She goes fast."
Charles stroked the bike fondly before opening the engine. I cried out in shock when the bike surged down the road. "Hold on, Lyon." Charles bellowed with a joyful whoop into the darkness. I held on to the older man's chest for dear life as we sped down the highway, the piercing beam of the bike's headlight illuminating the way to the sanctuary of Charles's house. On the freeway, I was flying. Never having ridden on a motorcycle. The closest I had ever been was riding around the college campus on an electric scooter to save money.
It was thrilling, but nothing remotely similar to Charles's motorcycle belting down the freeway with sheer power and velocity.
"This is amazing!" I yelled.
"That's nothing," Charles yelled behind him. "Look at the stars!
I did not know when it had happened, but somehow or another, we had found ourselves outside the city. I was only used to seeing a few stars twinkle morosely in the sky because the rest were obscured by light pollution. But out here on the open road, the sky had opened up into an entirely new world of vivid, twinkling lights, constellations, and even planets.
"Create a shooting star!" I said, unloosening one of my arms from around Charles's waist and gesturing toward the sky. Charles chuckled at my enthusiasm.
"Make a wish, boy!" It was a strange and impulsive thing to wish, but I closed my eyes as tightly as possible and wished with all the force within me that I would never lose the feeling of liberation I had been granted by climbing onto Charles's bicycle that night. I had initially been frightened, but somehow I had been able to trust the man almost immediately.
Whether it was because he had shown his initiative by protecting me from the terrifying shifter I had been looking to get together with, or because he was a comforting sort of fellow, I had never felt safer.
Finally, the bike slowed and turned down a dirt driveway where I would not have noticed had I been in a car or if I didn't know exactly what to look for. We crossed dense woods and finally stopped in front of a relatively small house. It was a sturdy, well-built house, but lacked any of the finishing elements so many of the newer standard homes folks in the city had commissioned custom for themselves.
"Is this your house?" I stuttered while Charles got off the motorcycle. The man's blue eyes glinted.
"Yes sir. Do you like it?"
"Oh, sure," I said, leaping off the bike to stand in front of Charles. "I didn't mean to."
"No, it's alright," Charles laughed. "Of course it's alright. Come on in."
We walked toward the door and I brought up the rear, a little apprehensive. The image of Charles with a husband waiting at home hadn't faded from my thoughts. They would have the perfect relationship; a couple of old wolf shape-shifters who were old enough to know better, and young enough to make the most of it.
"Something amiss, kid?" Charles asked, an eyebrow coming up to meet mine. He hadn't seen it, but I'd hesitated in front of the front door.
"Do you have anyone else staying with you? Are you sure they would not object to my being here?"
"Someone else?" Charles replied, as though he were incredulous at the suggestion. "Hell no. I'm a lone wolf."
A surge of excitement went through my chest. The man was ridiculously attractive. And he was single.
"You coming or what?" Charles demanded, flinging open the door. "Don't have all night. I'm hungry for supper."
"You haven't had supper yet?" I inquired. "I'll cook for you. As a thank you."
"I don't do thank-yous," said Charles, his boots booming on the wooden boards as he strode into the kitchen. "I do what I want. That has little to do with you."
I stuttered as Charles turned and went into the kitchen and took advantage of the moment to look around the room. We had entered a large, open living room, warmed by a wood-burning wood stove. The whole room was filled with the wholesome smell of smoldering wood, and the whole room seemed natural, earthy, so that I felt perfectly at home.
"Sit down," Charles yelled from the kitchen. I could not see him and he could not see me, but I sat down immediately. There was a coffee table, one handmade and filled with books and pens. I picked one up, surprised to find that it was a sketchbook. On the inside were beautiful, delicate drawings of wolves of every size; most living comfortably in the innermost depths of nature.
"Don't recall saying you could look at those," Charles said tersely when he came back into the room from the kitchen. He balanced two mugs of coffee in his hands and handed me one. I took it, looking down apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I thought it was just…"
Charles sat down next to me and chuckled.
Don't apologize, boy. I should apologize for being such a bad host. I suppose I am out here by myself so long that anyone touching my belongings gets me a little possessive."
I smiled gently and sipped coffee. I had somehow anticipated it to be strong, but it was simply perfectly sweet. In fact, I had never tasted coffee so exquisite.
"So what's it like being a wolf shifter?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity. This existence was so foreign and intriguing. It was far from the superficial, shallow existence I had built around me and my unappreciative ex Deporta Enoch.
"It's exhausting," Charles replied, reclining deeper into the couch cushions. "I'm an old fellow. You'd think you humans would have learned a thing or two about showing respect for their elders."
"Mean what?" I asked, immediately feeling like I had done something horribly wrong.
"Is it tiring fighting all the stories of persecution, having to run from people who go out into the woods with guns and shoot to kill without bothering to look at whether we're a threat or not. We've lost a lot of our kind over the years. A lot. We're about to be extinct. But I'll wager you didn't even know that. News shows keep it all quiet.". Everyone's afraid of us and think the less said the better. But they sure as hell won't be shouting it from the rooftops.
I was horrified. Charles must have seen the aghast, despairing look on my face, because he smiled and stroked my leg.
It's not your fault, kid. Just the way things are. Way of the world. Humans do the same thing to each other all the time over this difference or that. Hard to trust you sneaky buggers.
Why did you rescue me?" I demanded. I had felt that I definitely did not deserve to be rescued. Not after putting myself in such a stupid and careless situation. And certainly not after discovering the horrors which humans were committing against the wolf shifters. That must have been a terrible burden to bear, and I was ashamed of the humans for their intolerance and embarrassed to be part of them as a species.
"Oh, I don't know. Hero complex. Or maybe I just think you're cute."
I gazed into Charles's bright blue eyes in shock. They sparkled with mischief. "But you wouldn't like an old fart like me anyway. Has nothing to do with that. I guess I think it's worth looking past differences sometimes. Not everyone is a fool. You gave me good vibes."
"Good vibes isn't much to go on," I said with a nervous chuckle. But in truth, my heart was racing in my chest. That this amazingly sensual man had somehow been attracted to me changed everything. He was available. He was reassuring. And he was hot.
"To a wolf shifter, good vibes are the key," Charles said seriously. "We notice things that you guys don't even realize are there. I knew you were afraid. I even knew you were a nice person with good sperm count."
I blushed and a snort of laughter escaped my mouth.
"Are you kidding?" I asked, my wide green eyes focusing on Charles.
"A wolf never lie."
"Is that right?"
I had heard all of those same things before, but I always figured it was with a grain of salt. What kind of human never actually lied? It seemed impossible. And yet, I supposed the whole idea of wolf shifters was kind of impossible. They only had been driven out of hiding a few decades prior, when humans were encroaching on their territory to construct condos. In fact, the one Deporta had coaxed us into renting had once been a sacred site to the wolf shifters. The whole experience had unsettled me, but Deporta loved it.
"Stick around and see for yourself," Charles said.
The man's strong face creased into an appealing smile and I found myself drawn in. He seemed to have no will of his own anymore; only the mere desire to soak up the brilliance of this gorgeous man. As if he felt my feeling (indeed, he probably could do just that, I realized) Charles leaned in, his eyes alight with pleasure and curiosity. My heart skipped a beat when at last Charles's lips descended on mine and we were engulfed by a tidal wave of passion.
"Okay with this?" Charles asked, as though just in case he had gotten me wrong.
"Yes," I panted. Charles grinned and I gasped abruptly in delight as his hand plunged deep into my jeans. The game was about to begin.