“Okay,” Alec sighed in relief, Leif crouching down to let him get off. He jumped the last bit and adjusted the backpack on his shoulders.
“Unit with my truck is F23.” Leif offered, pointing with his nose in the right direction. “Key is in the front pocket of my bag.”
“Gotcha.”
Alec found the key and headed in the direction Leif indicated, his mate following behind him, big head swinging as he scented, ears twitching. “Expecting trouble?”
“Always expect trouble in the hills when I’m in this form,” Leif said. “Especially closer to towns.”
“People don’t like werewolves out here?” Alec asked, surprised. He didn’t experience any prejudice growing up, at least not for being fae. For being poor, yes, but not forbeing fae. That was so normal in the hills. The younger fae got along well with humans, and interbreeding was as natural as breathing, and had been going on for hundreds of years now.
“This form is the problem, not the nature,” Leif replied. “Homesteaders shoot first, and don’t bother with the questions later, either. Coyotes are bold out here, not enough wolves or big cats as competition. Bears get in as much trouble as the coyotes do. Wild wolves haven’t been here in decades.”
“Ahh, yeah, gotcha,” Alec said, grimacing. He had a horrible image of a small farmer shooting a massive shotgun at a scrawny, terrified, fleeing wolf. “That sucks so much.”
“It’s not easy being a predator surrounded by humans. They tend to think everything is theirs, and zealously kill any perceived competition.”
Alec understood that truth on a visceral level. While the younger fae were generally welcomed amongst humans to the point of interbreeding, that was mostly a regional thing in the Appalachian Mountains and the assorted ranges within, and outside of that, humans and fae tended to maintain species lines and divisions. The non-indigenous peoples of Appalachia owed their lineages to immigrants from Scotland, Wales, Ireland, and Germany, all places with rich cultures and a history of interacting with various fae species.
All that fell apart, though, when it came to fae species that could not, and never would, pass as human or vaguely humanoid, whether in face or form. There were fae species, both Elder and younger, that were quadrupeds, or insectoids, or came with scales and feathers in place of hair and trimmed nails. Those precious few species were quick toseek shelter in the wilds of the Americas during the many migration waves from the early 1700s to the mid-1900s from the Old to the New World. Human history was rife with stories of humans killing or reacting with violence to the more fantastical fae peoples in the Old World. There were myriad accounts of death and horror, and those fae that survived to escape across the sea disappeared as soon as they made landfall in the Americas.
That was the limit of what Alec knew—schools taught human-centric white colonizer history and what little he did know he got from his mother before her passing.
Alec found the unit and unlocked the garage door, lifting it for Leif as he was still a wolf and lacking thumbs. Lights flickered on automatically, and Alec was impressed to see a large, dark blue extended cab truck with tires meant for mountain roads. Also inside the unit was a large couch along one wall, a simple metal table with a lamp, some spare tires leaning against the back wall, and a rolling tool cabinet. There were shelves tacked to the walls as well. The unit was climate-controlled and had electricity, and Alec wondered how much money it cost Leif to rent this place.
Sounds of flesh rearranging came, and Alec politely kept his eyes averted, not wanting to presume—Changing was an intimate thing, uniquely vulnerable. He and Leif might be mates, but they were also still learning about each other. Alec was happy to be patient and take his time understanding his mate and what made Leif who he was as a person.
Chapter 9
Leif
Afew times that day Leif thought he was dreaming, that Alec was a figment of his imagination and not real, not really there with him, and not his mate.
Time might chip away at the disbelief, but he hoped it never touched the gratitude he felt for finally having his mate. And not just any mate—Alec.
The man who turned away to give him privacy when he Changed. Rode wolf-back with an exuberant smile and a sassy attitude. And wanted to live in an old cabin in the mountains. Leif was less sure about the cabin situation but Alec seemed keen, so he was going with it.
Living for hundreds of years meant Leif had a comfy nest egg set aside, enough money to support his wanderings every few centuries. He usually stayed in one place until it got too difficult to remain—he fled Europe during the early waves of the Great Migration, when humans drove supernatural beings by the thousands out of Europe, the Middle East, and Northern Africa. During that time, werewolves specifically were hunted by human governmentsfor pack lands and territory, most of it fueled by the insidious influences of the High Council of Sorcery. He was old enough to recall the mass murders of entire packs for the land they lived upon, either directly perpetrated by the Council or funded by them.
Leif finished Changing, the process as smooth as ever, and he approached Alec and took the backpack from him, his mate blushing hot at Leif’s naked proximity. He sensed arousal and desire from Alec, and that cheered him considerably.
Leif took out his clothes and got dressed. “You can turn around now.”
Alec promptly turned around with a smile on his face, and Leif found himself smiling back, enchanted. Alec was quite pretty when he smiled.
“You’ve got a lot in here for someone who lives in the mountains, hours away,” Alec said, gesturing to the items lining the walls and the rolling storage bins and cabinets. Not to mention the truck taking up most of the space.
“Every few years I toy with the idea of buying a house somewhere quiet, but then I remember people exist and I lose interest pretty quickly,” Leif shared, fishing out the truck keys and unlocking the doors.
“I too dislike people,” Alec shared with a grin, and he got in the passenger side without a word from Leif. He followed suit and got behind the wheel, starting the truck.
He made sure to run the truck every time he came down from the mountain, so it started without a hiccup and rumbled, ready to go. Leif pulled out and stopped just past the door, then got out to close and lock the storage unit before getting back in and heading out of the storage facility.
Alec
The driveto Hemlock went quickly, the highway a breeze with little traffic. Leif took the only exit for Hemlock, blinker on and without needing direction from Alec, the tiny town visible through the trees off the highway.
“Turn right at the road, then it’s about a quarter-mile down on the right. Stu’s place is a tiny blue house with a bunch of broken-down cars out front,” Alec directed, and Leif made a small hum in acknowledgment as he made the turn into Hemlock off the exit.
