Christoffer.
His bed cried out to him, his legs were weary and his head
started to spin from the drugs. They would be fine until morning. He could
ignore them and go to bed.
He turned to the kitchen.
His grandfather would no doubt have left them as they were,
but William couldn’t bring himself to do so.
He threw storage containers of sliced meats and cheese into
a bag along with bread and a few bottles of water.
The walk to the pen seemed endless. He tripped several times,
though even in the dark he knew every inch of this land. He pulled the exterior
door key from his pocket and let himself in.
“Close your eyes.”
Despite the warning Christoffer opened his eyes at the exact
moment William turned the lights on. He hissed and snapped his eyes closed,
rubbing them.
“Sorry,” William murmured. There was rustle, then a crash.
“Damn.”
Christoffer sat up, blinking. William was standing just
inside the door, leaning against the wall. A bag had fallen from his hand,
bottles of water and plastic containers spilling from it. Christoffer took a
deep whiff and caught the scent of ham—sugar glazed and roasted to be precise.
His stomach rumbled.
“Food.” William’s legs gave out and the Lord of Eahrington
collapsed to the floor. Christoffer ran to him, but he was too far away from
the bars for him to help.
“Throw me the key,” he said. William’s face was nearly as
white as the gauze pad that covered his cheek. He hadn’t showered. Christoffer
could see and smell the blood dried on his neck.
“I don’t trust you,” William said.
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Christoffer’s heart was racing.
His Alpha was in trouble, in pain—weak and in need of protection. He had to
help him. “Give me the key. You need help.”
“I’m a fool,” William said, but his hand disappeared into
his pocket and he tossed a key toward Christoffer.
Christoffer let himself out and ran to William’s side. The
man whom only yesterday had seemed cold and fearsome now looked like a pale
medieval knight, wasting away from a mortal blow.
“Did you see a doctor?”
“Yes. I’m fine, it’s the pills that are making me, making
me… Whatever.”
Christoffer barked out a laugh. It was the first time the
prim Lord Eahrington hadn’t sounded like a poster-boy for British public school.
Christoffer helped him to sit up with his back against the wall. William closed
his eyes.
“What are you on?” Christoffer asked him, laugh fading to a
smile.
William fished a bottle out of his pocket and held it up.
“Norco? Hello, my pretty,” Christoffer said, taking the
bottle. He twisted the cap off, fished one out and dry swallowed it. William’s
left eye was open, regarding him balefully. “Just a little something to take
the edge off,” he told William with a smile.
“Brilliant,” William said, letting his head fall back
against the wall. “I have a gay druggie werewolf.”
“Wrong on all three,” Christoffer replied cheerfully. “I’m
bi, I can quit whenever I want and we don’t call ourselves werewolves.”
William snorted. “Aren’t you going to grab the other keys
and run for it? I couldn’t stop you.”
“I wish I could.”
“Why can’t you?”
“You’re my Alpha.”
“You said that before but I don’t understand.”
“And if I tell you now you won’t remember, so let’s wait.”
Christoffer said it with a smile, but part of him hoped to avoid it forever. He
was afraid of letting Lord William know exactly how much power and control an
Alpha had.
He sat next to William, their shoulders touching.
Christoffer picked up a bottle of water and glugged it down, then dug into the
sliced ham. He was parched and starving. He ate in silence for five minutes,
consuming almost all of the food. He left some chicken and a piece of bread for
Mirela, though he could easily have eaten them.
“How is she?” William asked.
“Annoying.” Christoffer felt William jerk in surprise.
“Well, she is. She
His bed cried out to him, his legs were weary and his head
started to spin from the drugs. They would be fine until morning. He could
ignore them and go to bed.
He turned to the kitchen.
His grandfather would no doubt have left them as they were,
but William couldn’t bring himself to do so.
He threw storage containers of sliced meats and cheese into
a bag along with bread and a few bottles of water.
The walk to the pen seemed endless. He tripped several times,
though even in the dark he knew every inch of this land. He pulled the exterior
door key from his pocket and let himself in.
“Close your eyes.”
Despite the warning Christoffer opened his eyes at the exact
moment William turned the lights on. He hissed and snapped his eyes closed,
rubbing them.
“Sorry,” William murmured. There was rustle, then a crash.
“Damn.”
Christoffer sat up, blinking. William was standing just
inside the door, leaning against the wall. A bag had fallen from his hand,
bottles of water and plastic containers spilling from it. Christoffer took a
deep whiff and caught the scent of ham—sugar glazed and roasted to be precise.
His stomach rumbled.
“Food.” William’s legs gave out and the Lord of Eahrington
collapsed to the floor. Christoffer ran to him, but he was too far away from
the bars for him to help.
“Throw me the key,” he said. William’s face was nearly as
white as the gauze pad that covered his cheek. He hadn’t showered. Christoffer
could see and smell the blood dried on his neck.
“I don’t trust you,” William said.
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Christoffer’s heart was racing.
His Alpha was in trouble, in pain—weak and in need of protection. He had to
help him. “Give me the key. You need help.”
“I’m a fool,” William said, but his hand disappeared into
his pocket and he tossed a key toward Christoffer.
Christoffer let himself out and ran to William’s side. The
man whom only yesterday had seemed cold and fearsome now looked like a pale
medieval knight, wasting away from a mortal blow.
“Did you see a doctor?”
“Yes. I’m fine, it’s the pills that are making me, making
me… Whatever.”
Christoffer barked out a laugh. It was the first time the
prim Lord Eahrington hadn’t sounded like a poster-boy for British public school.
Christoffer helped him to sit up with his back against the wall. William closed
his eyes.
“What are you on?” Christoffer asked him, laugh fading to a
smile.
William fished a bottle out of his pocket and held it up.
“Norco? Hello, my pretty,” Christoffer said, taking the
bottle. He twisted the cap off, fished one out and dry swallowed it. William’s
left eye was open, regarding him balefully. “Just a little something to take
the edge off,” he told William with a smile.
“Brilliant,” William said, letting his head fall back
against the wall. “I have a gay druggie werewolf.”
“Wrong on all three,” Christoffer replied cheerfully. “I’m
bi, I can quit whenever I want and we don’t call ourselves werewolves.”
William snorted. “Aren’t you going to grab the other keys
and run for it? I couldn’t stop you.”
“I wish I could.”
“Why can’t you?”
“You’re my Alpha.”
“You said that before but I don’t understand.”
“And if I tell you now you won’t remember, so let’s wait.”
Christoffer said it with a smile, but part of him hoped to avoid it forever. He
was afraid of letting Lord William know exactly how much power and control an
Alpha had.
He sat next to William, their shoulders touching.
Christoffer picked up a bottle of water and glugged it down, then dug into the
sliced ham. He was parched and starving. He ate in silence for five minutes,
consuming almost all of the food. He left some chicken and a piece of bread for
Mirela, though he could easily have eaten them.
“How is she?” William asked.
“Annoying.” Christoffer felt William jerk in surprise.
“Well, she is. She
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