“You’ll see the spells for hot and cold water then. There’s fresh towels hanging on the wall. Call out to me if you need help. I’ll have an ear out for you. Food should be ready once you’re done.”
Alec was at a loss for words, really. All he could do was nod once and offer a shaky thank you. Leif nodded in return and left Alec alone, heading back out to the main room. The mine shaft was empty, from what he could see, but he sensed no danger in the shadows just past the bathroom—or water-closet as Leif had said—and he went inside, deciding to trust the handsome stranger a little bit longer.
Chapter 3
Leif
He listened in a distant fashion as Alec used the water-closet, only paying enough attention to catch if the young man fell or hurt himself in his weakened state. He didn’t sense any major injuries; the scent of blood was faint in comparison to the saturation in the air that came from open wounds or severed arteries or veins. Alec was covered in scratches and bruises, and his wrists were swollen, rubbed raw in places from either rope or cuffs of some sort, and he had what appeared to be a partially healed split lip and a fading black eye under the dirt and mud.
Alec was running from something. Someone. He sensed no malice from Alec—his ability to see into the nature of a person had more to do with centuries of experience than any magical gift. Alec was tired, scared, used to violence from big men, and had literally escaped from a bad situation. Leif was not one to believe in coincidences so he was very certain the explosion had something to do with Alec.
He heard Alec finish up just as he ladled some venison stew into a deep earthenware bowl with a spoon, putting iton the small table beside the armchair. Alec came into the main room at a slow shuffle, and Leif approved of the fortitude shown by the young fae, despite his willingness to help. Alec was much like Leif, it seemed.
Hair wet and finger-combed back from his face, Alec was clean at last, and he was swamped in the too-large clothing Leif found for him to wear. The pants hung past his bare toes and the drawstring was pulled as tight as it could be, bunched at his waist, but at least they were staying up. The shirt was huge on him, the collar wide enough it kept falling off one shoulder, and Alec had to pull it back up a couple times before he gave up with a grumble.
He was adorable.
Leif held out a hand to help him across the living room, and Alec took it despite his earlier hesitation, and he quickly got Alec back in the chair, bundled with warm furs, with a bowl the size of his head on his lap. Leif was reminded again of his size compared to his guest when Alec picked up the long-handled spoon, which looked like a serving spoon in his hand instead of one meant for eating stew.
Leif enjoyed the sight of the pretty young man eating his food with obvious and vocal delight, Alec’s happy little groans making heat pool in his belly. He’d gone far too long without carnal companionship and for Fate to hand over a sweet, adorable, and attractive young man was a temptation he was not expecting so he had little in the way of defenses.
Leif left Alec to eat, and went to the front door, opening it a handful of inches and breathing in deep, as much to clear out the enticing scent coming from Alec as to make sure they hadn’t been followed. Nothing was outside except the usual suspects—the owl that perched in the pine treeon the south side of the cliff and a few critters in the underbrush. No humans, no fae, no other wolves.
Leif shut the door and threw the latch for the first time since he built the cabin decades before—no one had ever been here except a mountain witch he hired to set the sigils and wards in his cabin right after he built it. And she hadn’t been back, taking his bundle of cash and disappearing into the brush without a word.
If he needed supplies, something he couldn’t build himself, he went into town, an hour away as the wolf runs, and he usually went as a wolf, carrying clothing and shoes in a large bag with a reinforced strap that he could put his head through as a wolf, and then carry it back the same way, full of supplies. Last time he went was the week prior, so he wasn’t strapped for food or necessities like toothpaste or toilet paper. He might live alone in the woods, but he wasn’t an animal, and nothing compared to modern conveniences like toilet paper, an actual flushing toilet, and a bidet.
He leaned against the door and listened to the night, able to hear out past the cliffs and down into the valley, the mountain’s natural acoustics helping to catch the sounds of even the stealthiest of passersby—and humans were loud, even the trained ones.
“What are you listening for?” Alec asked, quiet, as if afraid to disturb him.
“Nothing,” Leif answered, and hurried to explain when Alec’s face fell, not wanting the young man to think he was brushing him off. “The night is quiet. No one followed you, at least not yet.”
Alec eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and admiration. He leaned forward and set the now empty bowl and the spoon on the small table in front of the armchair. Hetucked himself back into the furs, snuggling, and Leif caught the way the young man buried his nose in them and breathed in deep before looking at him with somber gray eyes.
“What do you know?”
“Not much,” Leif tapped the side of his nose with a finger before tipping his head to the side, much like he would as a wolf. He spent a lot more time in that form than his human and lycanthrope forms. “My nose told me of stress and fear and pain, blood and metal. A hint of fire. An explosion happens on the edge of my territory, and then you appear. Those people who took over the old gravel factory at the edge of the woods aren’t the type to help, more to harm, and you’ve been held in shackles.”
Leif dipped his chin and Alec looked down, where his hands were hidden under the furs.
“You know a lot,” Alec replied ruefully. “Damn werewolf noses.”
Leif snorted out a short laugh and Alec smiled, the first real smile he’d seen on his face since he found him lost in the woods.
“You don’t need to tell me anything,” Leif said. “I won’t make demands of you. You’re tired and hurting, and not from around here. I might not get out often, but I know the area well enough, as well as most of the residents within twenty miles. You don’t smell like a local.”
“My stepfather sold me to the mountain mafia, and I blew them up while escaping into the woods,” Alec said, and Leif’s brows went into his hairline from surprise, even though he’d suspected some of it. Not the stepfather bit—that needed some more context.
“I don’t mind a story before bedtime,” Leif replied.
“It’s not a long one, but it is a mess,” Alec said. “I don’t feel right involving you in my troubles.”
“I’m old, little greenbough, and my teeth are sharp,” Leif informed his guest with a faint smile with a hint of those sharp teeth. “Trouble doesn’t want to get involved with me.”
Alec
Even though hetrusted Leif not to eat him, those sharp teeth made him gulp, very aware he was locked away in a cabin in the mountains with a sexy, protective alpha werewolf. Alec was feeling hungry himself, and not for another helping of the sumptuous-smelling stew bubbling away over the fire. Leif was wildly appealing, in a feral way that had nothing to do with his werewolf nature and everything to do with the way he stared at Alec with a hunger of his own in those expressive eyes.
