Thrown to the Wolves (Big Bad Wolf) Read online

  Cooper had to admit there were some benefits. A comfy place to rest his head. The sound of Park’s heartbeat gradually slowing, which shouldn’t be as fascinating as it was. Focusing on small details like that helped him reenter the world and remember himself.

  When he was ready, he shuffled up Park’s body a bit and placed a kiss under his jaw. Park’s arm came around him gratefully. “Okay?”

  “Perfect,” Cooper sighed. He felt come dribble out of him and down his thigh, and squirmed against Park’s chest. “Well, mostly. All sex talk aside, I don’t actually want to run into any of your family covered head to toe in semen.”

  “I’ll sneak you in. There are tons of secret entrances,” Park said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head while his hand snuck down to lazily rub his fingers in the mess between Cooper’s legs.

  “It wasn’t just talk for me, though,” he added after a moment. “Loving you is the privilege of my already overprivileged life. I never wanted you to feel like I was hiding you from them. I was trying to hide them from you.”

  Cooper twisted in Park’s arms to look at him. “There is nothing you need to hide from me. Nothing that they can say or do to make me feel differently about you.”

  “You don’t know that,” Park whispered.

  “I’m in love with you, Oliver. Not with your family. If we all get along, great. If not, big whoop. They’re not the ones I want to—” He stuttered. “You know. They’re not the ones I need to be in love with me. Okay? As long as you and I don’t have secrets, it’s fine.”

  Park pulled Cooper back down to his chest and held him close. “Yes. You’re right, of course. We’re fine.”

  Outside the wind had picked up and snow that was more like ice started to fall, pelting the window as if chipping away at the glass.

  Chapter Five

  Cooper rolled over in the big empty bed and stretched, feeling the aches of last night make themselves known. He should not have dozed so long on the barn floor. Even with Park as a pillow, he was too old and his body had been through too much for that. He’d woken with a start, nearly bashing his elbow open on the stall wall.

  “Nightmare?” Park had asked worriedly.

  “No. Just cold.”

  In truth he’d dreamt of that first werewolf hauling a still-living hunter into a tree. First the werewolf was Helena, then Joe, then Park, smiling and whistling while the hunter screamed. Honest and open relationship or not, dreams should often be kept to oneself. It wasn’t like it meant anything, anyway.

  True to his word, Park had managed to sneak them inside and up to their room without running into a single soul. He’d then insisted on washing Cooper in the en suite shower and practically tucked him into the decadent bed. It was a little over the top, but Cooper was feeling too loved and satisfied to dissuade the clinginess.

  He was alone this morning, though. As usual, Park had disappeared to shift somewhere before Cooper woke. In fact, it seemed like everyone had. After showering, dressing and heading downstairs, Cooper found himself in what appeared to be a totally empty house. He considered exploring a bit, but god forbid if he did run into any of the family members while snooping. He doubted their reaction would be half as positive as Park’s last night.

  Instead Cooper made a quick trip to feed Boogie—who didn’t even deign him with more than a single meow before continuing stalking whatever she’d found in the barn—then traced his steps back to the dining room and subsequently the kitchen.

  Like the rest of the house, the room was obnoxiously too large, brightly lit and furnished in a sort of sturdy rustic vibe with a lot of copper accents, dark blue cabinets, slate gray tiles and a huge range stove. On the thick wooden table he found a mountain of bagels and a note directing him to help himself to cream cheese, lox, capers and freshly sliced red onions, tomatoes and cucumbers in the fridge and coffee on the counter. He didn’t recognize the handwriting and wondered which Park family member had been charged with being his concierge.

  Cooper poured a mug and made himself a bagel sandwich. He ate it standing, looking outside the large kitchen windows. In the distance he could just see a gaggle of the Park children playing in the snow. It looked like they’d gotten only about three inches last night and the sky was still dark and heavy, promising more to come. The memorial ceremony was supposed to be late that afternoon, but Park had said it was happening here on the property, so no need to travel. Cooper had no idea what they were going to do all day in the meantime. Would the whole family want to hang out? He tried to imagine playing party games with Stuart and snorted.

  Then heard his snort echoed behind him.

  Cooper spun and inhaled sharply. A man was kneeling up on top of the kitchen table, examining the bagels. A man he’d never seen before.

  He froze under Cooper’s gaze, and they just stared at each other for a moment. The man looked to be in his twenties, had scraggly blond hair and a beard, was underweight and had very wiry muscles. Wiry muscles that Cooper could see very well because the man was completely fucking naked.

  Cooper cleared his throat. “Hey.” He waved and the man’s eyes tracked his hand intently. “I’m Cooper, uh, Oliver’s boyfriend. Are you—Do you, uh, live here?”

  The man showed no sign of listening to him, but sniffed the air intently.

  “Uh,” Cooper said. He’d never seen a werewolf in human form acting so animal-like before. It made him nervous. “Are you looking for someone?” He glanced at the kitchen door. He’d have to walk past the man to get to it. “I can help you find them, maybe.”

  He stepped forward and the man growled. There was no other word for it. A deep, vibrating warning that made the kitchen suddenly feel far too small.

  Cooper took a hasty step back, and that seemed to be the wrong move. The man crawled across the table, faster than Cooper could have on his hands and knees, and jumped at him. Cooper’s hands came up with a shout to defend himself—dropping the sandwich and mug, which shattered on the slate and splashed his brace-less ankle with hot coffee—but the man knocked them aside easily and then fell on him, pressing him to the window. Cooper’s arms were pinned between them as the man leaned on him and sniffed his neck.

  Cooper stood as still as possible. He didn’t have much other choice. He wished he could calm his heartbeat. He wished he hadn’t broken out into a sweat. He wished he could stop trembling. He could feel the man’s hot breath against his ear now. It had all the elements of something erotic but felt so wrong, so genuinely frightening and unwanted that Cooper felt sick.

  He could head-butt the man, but right now he had his nose buried under Cooper’s jaw and it wasn’t a good idea to use the fragile side of his head. He could try to get a knee up and into the man’s balls, but this close he wasn’t sure he could get the impact needed. Maybe it would be just enough.

  He began to realize the full weight of the man’s body was on him, not in an aggressive way, but like the man couldn’t stand on his own. Maybe if Cooper managed to knock out an ankle—

  Then the man spoke into his ear. “You’re not safe here.” His voice was barely more than a croak and the words slurred, a little sloppy and undefined, like someone speaking with a numb mouth. “She’s watching.”

  Before Cooper could even process what he’d said, the man pulled back and snorted like clearing a smell from his nose. He then quite calmly dipped to collect the half a bagel from the floor, leaving most of the toppings behind, hopped back up on the table and proceeded to eat it.

  Cooper exhaled shakily and took a cautious step to the side. The man didn’t even look at him, just kept picking at his bagel as if he had no greater concern at the moment than avoiding capers. Cooper kept moving slowly until he could reach the butter knife he’d used for the cream cheese on the counter. The knife was small and he gripped it so hard he lost feeling in the tips of his fingers, but he felt slightly better with it.

&n
bsp; “Hey. Hey!” Cooper shouted. The man didn’t even flinch. “What do you mean I’m not safe here, huh? Who is she? Who’s watching?”

  The man finished off the bagel and licked stray cream cheese off his fingers, one at a time, then hopped back off the table right toward him. Cooper braced himself and raised the knife in warning, but the man didn’t touch him this time. He stopped a foot away, swayed unsteadily on his feet and blinked rapidly, eyes unfocused, like he was dizzy.

  “Hey!” Cooper repeated. “What’s wrong with you?”

  The man tipped over and started to fall. Cooper jumped forward and caught him before he could crack his head open on the table.

  “Whoa, c’mon.” Cooper eased him to the floor and started to back away, but the man grabbed his wrist. His claws weren’t out—they never had been, Cooper recalled—and for the first time the man looked him directly in the eye. His expression was frightened.

  “She knows,” he said.

  Cooper slowly dropped to a crouch. “What does she know?”

  The man tilted his head back and bared his teeth, which lengthened and sharpened before Cooper’s eyes.

  “Raymond! That’s enough.”

  Helena Park stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking stern. The man’s mouth snapped shut and he averted his eyes once more. She walked into the kitchen until she was standing over them, and Cooper hastily got to his feet.

  “I hope he wasn’t bothering you, Mr. Dayton.”

  “Ah, no, not at all. We were just talking,” Cooper said, ignoring how uncomfortable he’d been mere moments ago. But he couldn’t shake that look of terror from his mind. The man, Raymond, was still looking at the floor, and Helena ran her hand through his hair affectionately, picking at some of the snarls there.

  “Um, is he...” Okay? Cooper wanted to say. But even he wasn’t sure what he meant by it.

  “Lorelei and Tim’s son.” Helena patted his head and then walked past them both to look out the window, hands clasped behind her back. She was in another comfortable leggings and flannel combo today, but this time had heavy-duty hiking boots that left wet spots on the floor. “We don’t often get to see Raymond in skin these days. What a treat for you.”

  Cooper thought Raymond was showing a fair bit of skin now as he pulled himself up to semi-standing and scrambled out of the kitchen without a backward glance.

  “In skin?” Cooper repeated. “You mean not a wolf?”

  Helena turned to face him, the light coming through the window streamed through her short white hair, creating an almost halo effect. “We’re always wolves, Mr. Dayton. You just choose not to see it when we walk and talk like you.” She tilted her head toward the window. “Would you care to take some air with me?”

  “Uh, sure,” Cooper said, surprised. “Right now?”

  “You have time to grab your coat. And I don’t think we’ll be needing that, do you?” She nodded at the butter knife still clutched in his fist.

  “Oh, this was just...cream cheese.” Cooper hastily put the knife on the table.

  Helena blinked slowly, an expression he recognized from Park that usually meant he knew Cooper was lying and it amused him. Helena’s version didn’t look quite that fond. “I’ll meet you at the front door in, shall we say, fifteen minutes?” she said.

  Cooper was bundled up and waiting outside in ten. He could just make out six of the seven children he’d met yesterday, playing far down the hill of the front yard. They were having a snowball fight. As he watched, one of the girls—who was probably about six—leapt at her older brother’s head across a distance of about four feet. She easily took him to the ground and sounds of snarling and occasional yelps carried all the way up the yard.

  “He didn’t prepare you for this at all, did he?”

  Cooper jumped and spun to find Helena had appeared, still just in a flannel and leggings, a couple feet away from him. She gestured first at the children, but her hand encompassed the extensive property, the ridiculous house and even herself. Cooper understood the connotations and the criticism.

  “We don’t talk about our pasts much,” he said carefully.

  “You mean Oliver doesn’t talk about us? Or about himself?” she said. When Cooper didn’t answer, she pursed her mouth in a funny sort of smile, half annoyance, half approval. “Your expression, Mr. Dayton. How loyal you are. Like a serious little lapdog. Shall we?”

  She started walking across the snow, away from the children and toward the edge of some woods. After a moment’s hesitation, Cooper followed. Did he really have a choice?

  Helena led them onto a trail of packed-down snow that wound deep into the forest between the hills. When he looked closer, Cooper could pick out large paw prints. He paused and looked warily around at the scraggly pines and crumbling rock faces. He knew, deep in his soul, that Park wouldn’t want Cooper to run into him when he was shifted. Cooper didn’t want to violate that privacy.

  “They’re miles away by now,” Helena said, watching him. Then seemed to hear the threat in her words and added a little ruefully, “If you’re worried about being overheard.”

  “You didn’t want to go with them?” Cooper said, and continued walking.

  “Someone needs to stay with the little ones. They’re too young to shift.”

  “But what about you?” he said, worried. “I could babysit so you can—”

  Helena waved her hand to quiet him. “I don’t sleep much these days. I had plenty of time to stretch my bones last night. Your concern is touching, though. I suppose that means you’ve seen what happens to us when we resist the change.”

  He bit his lip and avoided the question. “I know Oliver likes to shift every day.”

  “He most certainly does not,” Helena said promptly. “I had hoped he’d grow out of his childish reluctance once he left us, but from the way you’re mincing words, apparently not.”

  Cooper remembered the way Park’s body had started to break down after a week of not shifting. His sudden, frightening mood changes and dizzy spells and franticness, as if his own skin was struggling to contain him.

  Why? Cooper wanted to ask. Why did Park do this to himself? Why was he reluctant? And had he always been so? Asking Helena felt too much like going behind Park’s back, even if she would tell him, which he doubted. He had a feeling there was a reason she was approaching him alone, when Park couldn’t possibly interrupt. Cooper kept his mouth shut.

  Helena, watching his struggle out of the corner of her eye, sighed as if she’d read his mind. “I suppose you know why I’ve asked you out here.”

  “Um, to tell me my engagement to your nephew, Mr. Darcy, is impossible?”

  “You’re not engaged, are you?”

  Cooper coughed, a bolt of something bright and intangible shooting from his chest and lodging in his throat. “Um, no, no. I was just—”

  “Making a joke,” Helena said. “I know. I’ve noticed you do that when you’re uncomfortable. Do I make you uncomfortable, Mr. Dayton?”

  “No,” Cooper lied.

  “Strange. I would be if I were you. Staying the weekend in a house of monsters. And now one of them has lured you away into the woods alone.” She smiled. “Joking.”

  Cooper smiled weakly but couldn’t help thinking of Raymond’s desperate warning, the fear in his eyes. “Not because you’re uncomfortable, I hope.”

  “Of course I am,” she said, very matter-of-fact, and held up a hand to silence his protest. “Don’t take it personally. You seem like an interesting enough boy. I see why Ollie is drawn to you. He always did like a challenge. Once, as a child, he brought home a raccoon half torn up by coyotes. That thing wanted nothing to do with him and fought him every day. By the end of the week I don’t know who looked worse off, the raccoon or Oliver. But he did insist on trying.”

  Cooper just blinked. Was he the raccoon in this scenario?
>
  Helena continued, “No, I’m uneasy because there are very few humans who know our truth as...intimately as you. We’ve had to be a secretive species for a very long time now. It doesn’t go well when our worlds blend.”

  “Like the BSI, you mean? Oliver once told me some packs protested the coming out. I’m assuming yours was one of them.”

  “A militarized force to regulate an entire world they know nothing about? What’s to protest?”

  “I understand.”

  She snorted delicately. “Excuse me, but I really doubt you do. Is there anything so intrinsic to your ancestral identity, to your very definition of self, that having it manipulated, controlled, erased or changed would literally destroy you? Now can you imagine your child trying to hide that very same thing out of shame?”

  She placed a hand over her chest. “It breaks your heart.” She looked away suddenly as if startled by her own emotion.

  “You’re right,” Cooper said softly. “I can’t imagine that. I wouldn’t want to.”

  She appraised him intensely as if checking for sincerity, then nodded and walked in thoughtful silence for a couple minutes. “Will you two have children?”

  Cooper stumbled in the snow. “Excuse me?”

  “Do you plan on raising children?” Helena said with some impatience.

  He fidgeted with his jacket zipper. “We haven’t discussed it.”

  “Do you not see this lasting long-term, then?”

  “No. I mean yes, I do, but that’s not why—We just haven’t talked about that kind of stuff yet.”

  Helena kept staring ahead at the path, expressionless. “Don’t you think it’s something people should know about each other before getting too serious? Parenthood shouldn’t be entered out of guilt or obligation. It’s perfectly natural not to want children, you know. I wish someone had told me as much sixty-five years ago. I wouldn’t wish that burden on anyone. Or would you be the one to guilt Oliver out of a family, I wonder?”