Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The town smelled like sweat, children, iron, and booze. Lassiter huffed quietly through his nose, trying to clear out the overwhelming sense of people. It was a boon for there to be a village in their territory; they both benefited from it. But it never made it easier to be surrounded by the chaos of a bustling town when he was used to crumbled ruins, rocky forests, and ocean coasts.

The scent of fear spiked nearby, the bitter twinge making his eyes snap up to look for the threat. Two humans immediately stopped talking, their eyes shifting away from his as they quickly shuffled away. The smell followed them; they were afraid of him.

Good. They should be afraid.

Even without his wolf form, he could take any human. He could break bones, bite skin, tear out their jugular, feel their arterial blood spray in his face… He let a grin cross his face, baring his teeth through his beard at the pitiful whelps that required his protection.

It was a wonder that humans had managed to survive at all.

He continued to walk along the outskirts of town, smelling where his packmates were. Dobson and Johnson were at the brothel, as usual, the smell of sweat and sex practically oozing from the building. Juliet was bartering for supplies, a sweet fruity edge to her wolf husk always making her easy to track. And, for some Spirit's reason, McNab was at the stables, terrifying all of the horses. He probably didn't even realize he was doing it… A new smell suddenly made itself known, a sharp spice mixed with citrus that sparkled along the edges.

Sparkled? There was only one thing that smelled like that… Lassiter lifted his head higher, finding the small breeze that was bringing the strange scent to him. There, towards the market. He continued to track it, even as he squashed the faint beginnings of hope.

His pack had tried so many types of magic. Why would this one be any different?

The smell waxed and waned, often being overshadowed by the stronger scents of the village. Yeast, sugar and baking goods spread from the bakery, clashing with the heat, iron, and coal from the blacksmith. A quill scratched against parchment with the sweet metallic smell of ink as a scribe listened carefully to a villager, loud laughter rose from the pub with the unmistakable twinge of wine, and a squalling baby on the other side of town brought with it an unspeakable stench from its rags. But where was… a faint glint of sparkling scent caught his attention, and Lassiter followed it with dogged determination.

He had a duty to his pack. He had to find the source.

The problem was figuring out which of the dozens of people nearby was emitting the smell. There were so many of them to sort through… Several of the women were on their cleansing time, with the smell of blood sharpening around them. The children running by smelled of constant dirt and joy, and the horses in the barn gave off an earthy smell of hay and leather. A musky sweetness combined with rhythmic thumping made Lassiter avoid one of the nearby alleys with a grimace. Human mating was obnoxious enough without him having to see it too. Two men separated themselves from the crowd and walked by him, unaware of the awkward situation they were moving towards. Their voices rose in the crass, basic language they all used.

"...like he enjoys it when I fail!"

"He just wants you to meet your potential."

"Well, 'potential', can go to the dogs for all I care."

"Don't let him hear you say that…"

The speakers were two men, one with a scribe's kit under his arm and the other with a sword slung carelessly across his back. They were both a slight build and would be easy to take on in a fight. They were unimportant.

Though, they were also almost to the corner of the alley… Lassiter stayed back and watched in morbid curiosity, waiting for the moment the men realized what they'd walked in on.

"I'll say whatever I want to him. He sure as hell does the same to me…" the man with the sword slowed right before reaching the corner, his eyes squinting as his smell of warm citrus glinted. He suddenly grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him around to walk in a different direction. "You know, I think we've earned ourselves a drink."

"What did you see?" the scribe asked while allowing himself to be steered around.

"See? I don't know what you're talking about," the swordsman said innocently, even as his scent twinged with nervousness.

The scent that sparkled. He was the one with the magic.

The scribe looked around to make sure no one was nearby before saying quieter, "You're really obvious when you do it. You look like Galen."

The swordsman stopped with a curious tilt to his head, his fear fading as quickly as it had appeared. "Who?"

"Galen. A philosopher who wrote about the eyes." The scribe shrugged and added, " Well, the whole body, really."

The swordsman let out a long sigh. "What have I told you about using book people like that? Absolutely no one has read those."

"I've read those."

"Absolutely no one but you has read those. It's embarrassing."

"More embarrassing than falling in the dung in front of Abigail?"

"One time. I did that one time…" the swordsman led the way into the pub as he continued the argument.

And Lassiter groaned to himself as he turned towards the largest house in the village. He'd found the man who was magic… and the man was an idiot.

The headman's house wasn't anything special; its roof was slightly nicer than the one next to it, and it was big enough for a large table to be set up in the middle of the entrance room. The headman was currently leaning over that table, pointing at a section of an unrolled map.

"We need those travelers to have safe passage; they bring trade and good coin."

"Those travelers keep sniffing around my keep," Vick countered. The first time anyone saw Vick, they wondered why the pack let her lead them. She was short with blonde hair and little visible muscles; a lesser man would think that she'd be easy prey. The lesser man had never tried to negotiate with her, and she was as ferocious as any wolf when her pack was threatened. "Unless they want to die, they will stay out of our territory."

"Please," the headman argued, tilting his head up so his throat was bared, as was proper. "At least grant them safe passage on the road. Their trade allows our village to flourish, which means we can continue to supply you with the best goods."

"Goods that we still have to barter for," Vick pointed out as she bared her teeth.

"If you'd rather our hunters leave the designated area, we'd be happy to give you a discount-"

Vick cut him off with a low growl. "The forest is ours."

The headman swallowed, fear radiating from him as the lump in his throat bobbed. "Then I'm afraid we must trade for skins and meat. We rarely find big game in the area allotted to us."

Vick let out a sharp breath through her nose before letting her lips cover her teeth, signaling the headman that he could relax. It was an old argument that always came to the same conclusion. The wolves protected the village as part of their territory, and the village supplied the pack with supplies that were hard to come by, like weapons and alcohol.

"Chief?" Lassiter cut in before they could start anything else. "I need to talk to you."

In their history, the head of the pack had been known as the pack mother. But as communications with the humans became normalized, they'd adopted several of their terms to smooth over misunderstandings.

"Wait here, I need to speak to my Adjunct," Vick immediately informed the headman. She walked to the corner of the room and Lassiter followed. "Yes?"

Lassiter kept his voice low as he said, "I found magic. Someone who wields it."

Vick's eyes snapped up to him. "You're sure?"

"I saw him use it. Some sort of Seeing."

Vick huffed, her disappointment easy to smell. "Seeing is one of the weakest magics…"

"But it was different than any I'd seen before. He didn't have to chant or cast a spell. It seemed almost… instinctual." There hadn't been any reason for the swordsman to have known to See into that alley.

Vick thought for a moment before slowly nodding her head. "Magic is dangerous to have here, especially if it isn't wolf magic. If we asked for him, we'd have to keep him. He wouldn't be able to return to his own pack after they knew."

Lassiter growled at the stupidity of humans. They always sought to use or destroy any power they could find, whether the wielder of that power wanted it or not.

"We wouldn't be able to Turn him," Vick thought out-loud quietly. "The wolf magic could override his. And then he'd have the Weakness too… There's only one other way to make him a member of our pack."

"Don't pick Juliet, you know she doesn't want to be mated," Lassiter said quickly, jumping to his packmate's defense. It was rare for a female as old as her to still be unbonded, but she was proud of her differences. He wouldn't let them be taken away because of something he'd found.

"I actually had another pack member in mind. Another one who needs a mate…" Vick grinned showing all of her teeth. "What's the phrase I heard the children chanting? Finders keepers?"

Lassiter's jaw dropped. "No. You can't… No! No no no no no…"

Lassiter stalked to the shabby houses at the edge of the village. It was ridiculous, it wasn't fair, and it was entirely his own damn fault for bringing it up. He should have let the magic man do his thing and never said a word. The smell of citrus and sparkles grew stronger and he growled, snarling at a nearby cat who was daring to sun itself in his sight. The cat just stared at him, unimpressed, before bending down to lick its crotch.

Cats were the worst.

Yelling voices told him exactly which house to go to, and as he approached, the front door slammed open. The swordsman stormed out, kicking the door closed again while snarling in an almost-wolflike way. His eyes met Lassiter's in a glare before suddenly squinting. The smell of sparkles danced and grew until the man's jaw dropped, the burning scent of anger swiftly fading.

Lassiter took the moment to close the distance between them. It was best to get straight to the point. "I'm with the werewolf pack; I want you to marry me."

The swordsman's eyebrows raised and his mouth stayed agape as he held a finger up. "Hold that thought." He walked backwards towards a neighboring house, his eyes never leaving Lassiter's. He banged on the door once he reached it and called out, "Gus, you're going to want to get out here. Bring your ink."

"Why?" came the muffled reply.

"Because you told me, and I quote, 'You're destined to do stupid things, so someone should be there to write it down and make money off of it.'"

There was a loud clatter of things falling, and the swordsman walked back to Lassiter. The door opened and the scribe, Gus, stumbled out, his kit already half open. He jerked to a stop when he saw Lassiter, his eyes immediately snapping down in subservience. He muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Shawn, what did you do?"

"I haven't yet," Shawn said mildly before asking Lassiter, "Why?"

"I have need of your… abilities." It was best to stay vague where people could hear. "But you'd need to be part of the pack."

"I'd get to be wolfy?" The swordsman seemed almost excited by the idea.

Dear Spirits, what did he get himself into? "No… You won't get to be 'wolfy'." The word tasted like disrespect and everything that was wrong with humanity. "It would make your other abilities inert."

"Oh…" Shawn only thought for a second before saying, "Well I don't have any more questions. Yes, I'll marry you."

"Wait, what?!" Gus exploded.

Shawn ignored the other man and asked, "When do you need us?"

"'Us'?" Gus and Lassiter both asked with varying levels of panic.

"Gus and I are a package deal. You don't get one without the other."

Were they mated? Lassiter sniffed the air; their smells lingered on each other, but it wasn't the deep permeation of bonding.

"Excuse me, Shawn, can we talk in the privacy corner?"

Shawn rolled his eyes but made his way back to Gus where they immediately turned their backs to Lassiter and started whispering. He could still hear them clearly.

"Brother, are you crazy?"

Lassiter raised an eyebrow; their contrasting skin tones made it obvious that they probably weren't actual blood relations.

"Yes, but that's already been well established. Come on, think of the adventure!"

"You're just thinking about how you can get away from your father," Gus countered.

Definitely not familial relations.

"Sure. And the adventure!"

"You realize he could kill us just as easily as look at us, right?"

"Which is even more reason to go! You're always convinced a bear is going to go on a rampage or the witch of the well –which still isn't a thing– will get you… who better to protect us than literal wolves?"

"By the gods' bones, I can't believe I'm actually considering this…"

"Great, I'll tell him we're good."

"No need," Lassiter drawled. It was fun seeing them jump. "Meet us at the village gate tomorrow at dawn."

"Great! One more question. What's your name?"

Chapter Text

The werewolves lived in a castle!

Fine, according to Gus it was the keep of a castle, but it was still excellent.

Shawn grinned as he looked around, all of his belongings slung on his back over his sword. He didn't need much to survive, just enough food to get him to the next day and the promise of adventure. And this was shaping up to be quite the adventure.

An iron gate closed behind them with the sound of creaking gears and clanking chains. Gus whispered in his ear, "We are definitely getting eaten…"

Really, Gus should be happy. The crumbling castle would make a fine setting for a story. At one time, the castle was built out from a cliff face and must have been an imposing sight with tall walls and even taller towers. But now most of the walls were crumbling or non-existent, with moss and vines growing over the cragged stone blocks. It gave the whole area a wild and dangerous feel, like they were intruding on a feral spirit's land.

The inner building, the actual keep, was still whole. Though the iron gate was rusting with age and cobwebs spread along the ceiling, evidence of the spiders that didn't mind sharing their home with the wolves.

Lassiter, Shawn's betrothed, started barking out orders as soon as the gate was secured behind them. "Dobson, take Sheppard and get the supplies stored. Johnson, go update the rest of the pack before the rumors start. Juliet-"

A short, blonde werewolf cleared her throat with a pointed look. Lassiter immediately took a step back and spoke in a milder tone. "Juliet, do whatever it was you were planning on doing."

"Thank you, I think I will show our new packmates around," Juliet said, baring her teeth cheerfully.

From what little Shawn had been able to gleam from their walk over, Juliet did everything cheerfully.

Lassiter finished his orders as he stalked away. "McNab, get those bruises checked out and for Spirit's sake, don't hang out around the horses next time."

The tallest werewolf in the group ducked his head, but it was far too late to hide the hoof-shaped bruise on his cheek. He still smiled as he loped off towards a stone arch ahead of them.

Juliet rolled her eyes before waving her hand around. "Well, welcome to the keep. Don't worry, he's always like that."

"Angry and blunt?" Gus asked.

"Pretty much," she agreed with fondness. "He grows on you." She nodded towards the stone arch. "Great hall is that way, most of us bunk there. A few members of the pack, like Lassiter, prefer their own space…"

She led them forward, showing off the large room with animal hides and rolled up blankets lining the walls. Long tables currently took up the middle of the room with several werewolves listening to Johnson tell a tale with overexaggerated movements. Barks of laughter rang out and several faces turned to study the new humans as a large fireplace crackled behind them. Shawn felt Gus shrink back against him, but he just met their eyes with a grin that was hopefully toothy enough.

How many humans got a chance to live with werewolves? This was the best.

"The kitchen is back there, though we only really use it when Woody's in the mood for meat…"

Juliet turned to walk towards a steep flight of stairs and Gus jogged to catch up to her. "What do you mean 'in the mood for meat'? Do… Are we food?!"

Juliet huffed through her nose in a laugh. "We don't eat humans. Not enough meat to be worth it." She snapped her teeth playfully and Gus jumped back with a squeak. "But we like our meat raw, not cooked."

Shawn patted Gus' shoulder in consolation as he walked past. Gus just continued to stare and sputter before finally bursting out. "Are you telling me we're going to have to be vegetarian?!"

"So who's the Woody guy you were talking about?" Shawn asked once they were on the next floor.

"He's another human who lives with us. He helps patch us up and sometimes we bring him dead things to study." She shrugged with a look that clearly said, 'What can you do?' "He's odd, but we've grown… accustomed to him. He lives in the basement; says he needs it nice and cool."

Best. Day. Ever. Shawn grinned as he finally said the words he'd been dying to say for years. "Well then, guess I should go to the dungeon."

"Oh my gods," Gus muttered behind him.

"So, what can you tell me about Lassiter? He doesn't seem the most romantic type…"

"I'll let him tell you about himself," she answered carefully.

There was something there. Shawn Looked closer. She was nervous, not for her but for her packmate. He'd been hurt before; she didn't want to see him hurt again. He always looked out for her, she had to make sure-

A low growl broke his concentration before he could See more.

"Careful, Pup." Juliet glared at him with a feral snarl. "You better make sure you don't do that to the wrong wolf."

Gus let out a strangled whimper. "I told you it was obvious."

She snorted. "Especially when you can smell it."

Shawn gulped and raised his chin, like he'd seen the headman do. "I didn't know."

"Now you do." She turned and pointed, her voice instantly snapping back to her cheerful tones. "There's Lassiter's room. You can put your stuff there."

Shawn kept studying her, his inner force carefully kept at bay. She was more of a threat than he'd realized. They all were.

"What did you get us into?" Gus hissed as he walked by.

Shawn honestly didn't know.

Dinner that night was the first –and Gus vowed the last– time they ever saw the werewolves eat. The tables were stocked full of recently skinned deer, rabbits, and birds. There were even several strange chunks of meat that they were cheerfully informed were giant worm. Gus had excused himself from the table at that point and never came back. The werewolves dug in with gusto, and all that could be heard for half an hour were happy crunches, chewing, and slurps. Blood dripped down their hands as their teeth tore at the recently-living flesh, and none of them seemed to mind the red lining all of their lips. The few bowls of berries and grapes were largely ignored.

Shawn didn't eat much.

Surprisingly, Lassiter wasn't at the tables, and when Shawn went up to his –their?- room, he wasn't there either. Shawn shrugged to himself and unpacked his small bag, setting up his things and eating half of his trail rations as he waited. And waited.

Was he ever going to show up?

Shawn's stomach growled and he looked contemplatively at the rest of his food. It was only a handful of nuts and half a sack of grapes, but it still called to him. Maybe Gus had more… There wasn't really any point in just hanging out alone when there was a group of interesting beings just a staircase away.

Even if he really wanted to know more about the werewolf who'd decided a proposal was the best way to introduce himself. His stomach growled again, deciding for him. Shawn strode to the door, nearly getting smacked in the face when it swung open at the exact same time.

He and Lassiter both stared at each other in surprise. Lassiter's nose flared and Shawn instinctively Looked for anything that would help get him out of danger. Lassiter had been seeking silence all evening, assigning himself to a hunting party but only bringing the bare minimum home. He'd do what needed to be done for the pack, but he wouldn't be happy about it. And how dare the human lay claim to his territory? And how dare he use his magic!

Shawn gasped and stumbled back, but it wasn't fast enough. Lassiter surged forward, slamming him against the wall and pinning him there. "Don't."

Shawn forced himself to let go of his hidden knife and slowly raised his hands in surrender. "I can't always help it."

"I don't care." Lassiter shoved him harder into the wall, lifting until Shawn was forced to stand on his tip toes. "And stay out of my space."

"Sure, sure," Shawn gasped out. "But I'm really getting mixed messages here. Am I not the wife?"

"We're being bonded because it's what the pack needs. Not because I want a mate." Lassiter dropped Shawn to the ground. "Take your things and get out."

"Fine." Shawn made a show of dusting himself off; he wouldn't let Lassiter think he'd won. "But you need a wife's touch; your decoration scheme is terrible."

Unfortunately, his grooming scheme was on point. It wasn't fair for a man to be that handsome with his wavy dark hair and kingly beard. And somehow he was even more handsome when he bared his teeth and growled.

Shawn made a show of rolling his eyes before gathering his few belongings. "Gus will want someone with him anyways. He's still convinced you guys are going to eat him."

"Don't tempt me. Out."

The door slammed in Shawn's face and he continued to blink at it for several minutes. Why would Lassiter propose and then seem to hate him for existing? What did they need him for anyway? And why was the closed door suddenly so intriguing?

Shawn mulled over his thoughts as he made his way back down the stairs.

The great hall was warm and cheerful, now that the bloody mess of dinner had been cleared away. Several werewolves hung out in smaller groups, some laying on each other as they talked while others wrestled in the newly cleaned space. Gus was easy to find, he'd hidden himself in the darkest corner and was glaring at the whole room suspiciously.

"Good day, Gus!" Shawn said loudly. It was always fun, making his friend jump. "I see you haven't been eaten yet."

"No thanks to you," Gus pointed out with a dark look. "Can we leave now?"

"We can't leave yet, we have to see that other human!"

"You can go see that other human. I'm not going anywhere near someone who asks werewolves to bring him dead things."

Gus had a sense of adventure, he really did. It was just very hidden, and sometimes Shawn had to help him find it. "You have to come with. For the story, if nothing else. Think of the scene: a strange man living in a dark dungeon, bats hanging over him and a wolf curled up at his feet…"

"It's not the full moon," Gus grumbled. He clearly wanted to go.

"No one else has to know… Come on! I need you there to listen when I get distracted and to keep me from Seeing things I'm not supposed to. I pray of you, please?"

Gus hesitated before pointing firmly at Shawn. "Fine. But I have rules, and you will follow them to the word and the letter. One, I will not go first."

"As usual," Shawn readily agreed.

"Two, you will not leave me with the crazy person."

"You're with me all of the time, but agreed."

"Three, I will not touch anything that isn't my quill or my parchment."

"You have to know what that sounds like… but agreed. Do we have an accord?"

Gus thought before holding out his hand. "We have an accord."

Shawn shook his hand and bounced off towards the staircase Juliet had pointed out earlier. "Great! Let's talk to the crazy person in the basement!"

"This is a terrible idea…"

Gus was wrong; it was a great idea. He always had great ideas.

Right?

Chapter Text

The dungeon was just as delightfully gruesome as Shawn had hoped. The stairs down were shrouded in darkness with only a few lit torches offering warmth and light. Shadows danced under their feet as the air cooled and a strange humming came from below. Shawn looked around quickly, checking that they were alone before he reached out and Looked.

Rats were hungry in the walls, spiders feasted above, and ants were barely noticeable under the floor as they did their queen's bidding. A man worked among the living, only concerned with learning from the dead. There was so much to know, it could take him lifetimes to fully understand. But every body was beautiful, every one a trove of information and sensations and delightful smells…

Shawn quickly shook his head; he didn't want to See more to know exactly what a vampire's liver smelled like. But the man wasn't cutting into a dead vampire right now… Why was he thinking about that?

Gus gagged behind him as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Oh my gods, that stinks. Shawn, I'm going to kill you for talking me into this…"

"Don't worry, you'll thank me later," Shawn reassured him. It didn't smell that bad to him… Though, granted, he didn't have a super sniffer like his best friend. Maybe there was some werewolf blood in Gus' family…

They rounded a corner and passed through a doorway before finding the source of the humming. An older man with a large bald spot was leaning over a table with his nose almost completely inside a large, wrinkly, chunk of flesh. As they walked in, the man reached back to adjust a strange contraption, a torch set up behind a polished mirror which reflected a steady bright light. Shawn Looked closer and the white light grew, piercing his mind like a hot knife and splitting him in two. He hissed and closed his real eyes to the sight. There was magic, and then there was Magic. Whoever had enchanted that contraption had been a powerful mage indeed.

If they had that sort of Magic, then what did they need with him?

"Oh, I didn't realize I had company. A very good day to you!" a friendly voice called out.

Shawn risked opening his eyes, keeping his inner force under control. A headache beat behind his temples, but it wasn't as important as the strange man now smiling at him with one hand buried in the guts of a giant worm. How intriguing. "A good day to you too. I'm Shawn and this is my partner, Bust on Gunther."

Unsurprisingly, Gus stayed silent as Shawn gave him the traditionally terrible fake name. At least he wasn't vomiting.

"My name is Strode, but everyone calls me Woody."

"Why?" Shawn couldn't help but ask.

"Huh… I don't actually know…" Woody frowned in thought as his eyes drifted down to the carcass he was still holding open. "Ooh, you should look at this!"

Gus cleared his throat and finally spoke. "Uh… No thank you. I'm quite happy back here."

Which was really short sighted. How often would they get to see the insides of a giant worm? Shawn stepped forward and looked down. Honestly, it wasn't as gross as he'd thought it'd be. Thick walls of muscle lined the body, but they were white and not bleeding at all. The inside was surprisingly empty, with only a thick, rubbery tube running the length of the segment. "What's that?"

"That… Is a worm bum. Have you ever wondered why this forest grows so well?" Woody reached in and cut the tube lengthwise. Dark goo oozed out, the tacky sight contrasting sharply with the almost floral scent. "Pure ground soil. Nature's recycling agents. Beautiful, isn't it?"

The ooze slowly crept over the man's hand before dripping inside the worm's inner cavity. "Yeah, it kind of is."

"But that's not the best part!" Woody shoved the buttocks off of the table and bent down to rummage through a pile of other worm parts. Now that they were closer, Shawn could smell the faint rancid smell coming from the corner. Woody stood back up, cradling another section in his arms and gently patting the skin where it came to a point. "If that was the buttocks, then that makes this the head. They look so similar…" He dropped it to the table with a loud thunk and grabbed his knife. "Let's take a look inside."

The knife moved through the rubbery skin with a thick cutting sound, and Shawn leaned closer as he Felt Gus cringe back. He always Knew what Gus was doing… Could the wolves smell even that small use of his 'gift'?

Though, according to his father, it was more of a curse…

Shawn shook his head and focused back on the autopsy in front of him. He would not be distracted from seeing the insides of a monster. Woody grunted as he forced the muscles apart. "You know… this reminds me of the time my… estranged wife and I… went dancing." The muscles gave way with a quiet rip, and the cavity opened up, causing Woody to stumble and nearly fall face-first into the carcass. He regained his balance and smiled cheerfully, like he hadn't nearly kissed a worm's intestines.

Shawn felt an inner pull, linking him to the strange man. An almost innate understanding of another person who just wouldn't act like everyone else expected him to. He smiled as he looked into the monster's guts; it was always nice to find a kindred spirit. Besides Gus, there weren't many people in their village who fell into that category.

There was much more to see this time inside the worm, though the large inner tube was still the most predominant feature. Large white spheres, the size of his fist, were tucked up against the tube near where the head had been cut off. Smaller circles were visible closer to the tip of the nose, nearly lost among the stretchy membrane that Woody was still cutting away. Gus let out another gag, which didn't seem fair. It was far more fascinating than gross.

"Now, I've opened up quite a few of these delights –the wolfies like the meat– and one thing never ceases to amaze me. Tell me what's missing."

"Uh…" Shawn glanced back; he wasn't the one for knowing things like that. "My partner can answer that."

If looks could kill, then Shawn would probably be just lightly toasted, because really Gus had been waiting for an opportunity to get closer. Gus' glare grew even stronger, and Shawn smiled harder. It was a coin flip whether Gus was acting or not, but Shawn had always been lucky. The coin usually flipped his way.

"Ooh, yes. You in the back. What was your name… Bust?"

"Gus," Gus corrected before letting out a sharp sigh and creeping towards the dead worm. He swallowed thickly before quickly glancing in. "It's missing a brain."

"That's what I thought!" Woody's beaming smile was almost as bright as his magic light. Shawn definitely liked the man. "But then that begs the question… What are these?" He pointed to the small white pebbles at the top of the head.

"Eyes?" Gus guessed as he kept his own eyes locked on the problem. And away from Woody's other hand that was casually squeezing the bigger white spheres.

"But they already have eyes. Or… close enough to eyes." Woody pointed to a couple of small indents nearly hidden by the folds of the outer skin. "So… What if these little buggers are the brain?"

"That… doesn't make sense." Gus was definitely growing interested in the problem. Yet again, proving that Shawn always had good ideas. "The brain is for cooling the body… That's too small."

"Ah, an Aristotle fan!" Woody moved quickly, grabbing his knife and slicing off one of the small organs. Gus made a very interesting sound before covering his mouth as Woody waved the body part around. "So, the question is… If these are a brain, and they don't do what they're supposed to do… Which one of us is wrong?"

"Or maybe they're just a monster and aren't meant to make sense." Gus slowly backed away from the table. "Maybe they're cursed, or maybe they came from the–"

"Oh come on…" Shawn groaned. Not this again. "The witch in the well doesn't exist!"

Woody gasped. "Of course she does! She stole my shoe!"

"She stole my shoe!" Gus pointed at the strange man in solidarity. "See, Shawn? I wasn't just making it up!"

It was time to change the subject. "So, Woody, what do you know about werewolves?"

"Absolutely nothing. Besides what they eat, how they sleep, how they choose a mate, how fast they heal, how often they don't get sick… They don't die enough for me to really learn anything good."

"How do they sleep?"

"How do they choose a mate?"

Gus sighed as they asked their questions at the same time. "Shawn, how they choose a mate is a much more important question."

But knowing the best way to sneak around when they were all asleep was important… Shawn rolled his eyes and let his friend get a win. "Fine. What's up with the mate thing?"

"Well, werewolves mate for life –I can never decide if that's a good thing or not– and are usually very discerning about who they choose to live it with. Half of the werewolf Turnings are based on mate preferences." Woody looked at his wrist thoughtfully. "I wonder what it feels like.. Do you think men are more attractive if they have a wolf half?"

"Yes," Shawn answered without thinking.

"Hmm… Well, I wouldn't want to until the pack figured out the Weakness thing anyway." He turned back to his worm. "Now, let's see if the seminal vesicle being enlarged means the sperm are enlarged too…"

"Wait. What do you mean 'Weakness'?" Shawn asked.

Woody's eyes grew large and his hand slipped, causing the blade to stab into the worm's testicle. "Did I say 'Weakness'? I meant to say something else. Uh… Woke-ness. How much they don't sleep. Because they don't sleep much. Which is odd, because dogs and wolves actually do sleep a lot. But werewolves don't…"

"What's the Weakness?" Shawn asked again. He Looked as Woody sputtered out another excuse. The magic from the light behind the man burned into his mind, searing bright white into all of his dark cavities, leaving an inferno behind. Shawn gritted his teeth and kept his focus.

Things were getting worse for the werewolves, the Weakness wasn't just the first day of the moon anymore; it was affecting their human form. And the timeframe it was affecting them was growing at a concerningly rapid rate. Legends said magic could lift the sickness, but–

The light flared, burning out any semblance of thought, and Shawn couldn't stop his yelp as he crumpled to his knees. Gods, it was strong.

"Woah, Shawn…" Gus braced him, making sure he didn't fall the rest of the way to the floor, his presence a comforting warmth in the suddenly clammy dungeon. "I thought you promised to not use that here," he hissed worriedly.

"I ne'er pr'mise anythin'," Shawn slurred, his mouth moving before he remembered how to properly control it. The light suddenly dimmed and he gasped for breath, the release of pressure making him reel.

"Ah, I didn't realize he was a Seer. Interesting. That would explain why you're here… I thought you'd just broken in."

Gus was oddly quiet for a second, as though he was processing what he'd been told and decided it wasn't worth pursuing. "Help me get him up."

Two sets of hands braced themselves under Shawn's arms and pulled him to his feet. He automatically leaned on Gus, letting him take the lead, and cracked his eyes open. Halos danced around the flickering torches, stabbing his eyes with their cheerful dances. The wretched smell from the cut up monster behind the table made him want to puke, and the rough collar of his shirt scraped his neck in a way that made his entire body crawl. Pain embraced him like an old friend, hugging his head and pulling the band of pressure agonizingly tight around his temples.

His gift had never affected him like this before…

"Hey Woody, is it ok if I–"

Shawn whimpered as the new voice drove a spike of jagged sound through both of his ears.

"Ooh, sorry… What happened?"

"Ah, I'm afraid he may have become a wee bit overwhelmed with my magic light. Not to worry, it should wear off on its own. Unless it doesn't… He need sleep, and may I ask… if you die, can I dissect your brain?"

"...Go for it." It'd be better than his father getting his body.

"Excellent!" Woody answered far too loudly. "A bed would be best, Buzz you can take the compress off now –my your healing is impressive– and can you help this young man up the stairs?"

"I can take him to Lassiter's room," the werewolf answered. He sounded too energetic for someone who'd been kicked in the face by a horse.

Then Shawn registered what Buzz had actually said. "Not Las'ter. He'd tear m' throat out."

It would be a shame to survive his gift stabbing him in the back just for his betrothed to do it instead.

"Oh… Well you can sleep in my bed then, I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"

A long pair of arms suddenly engulfed Shawn, and he yelped as the room spun and swam until he found himself being cradled to Buzz's chest. He was being carried. By a werewolf. What even was his life today?

But he couldn't be mad about being treated like a small child when Buzz carried him gently up both flights of stairs and settled him in a quiet room with the most luxurious bed he'd ever laid on. The mattress engulfed his whole body, and the heavy blanket made the whole world softer and nicer to his head. He closed his eyes, not even bothering to listen to the quiet words being passed at the foot of the bed.

His gift slipped out from his exhausted control, and he Saw Buzz as he drifted off. The horses had worked; none of the other werewolves had smelled her. He'd been the smart one for once; he'd protected her –protected them. Shawn smiled as sleep overtook him. It was rare to feel such a pure love, and it was a soothing balm over the sharp edges cutting into his mind.

That night, Shawn Dreamed.

He dreamed of home. Loud shouting voices, heavy expectations, smothering control. Sword drills and knife drills and archery drills… Every drill imaginable except the drill Shawn wanted. Every drill except magic drills.

He dreamed of before. Loud boisterous stories, warm cuddles, rituals by the stove's fire. The smell of burning herbs, the sound of low chanting, the feel of long hair draping over his shoulder as his gift was gently redirected. Comfort and safety and belonging.

He dreamed of that night. Loud crashes, angry voices, a door kicked in. Soldiers pouring into the house, fear as they grabbed his mother's hair, blood dripping down his father's face as three men held him back. Angry screaming as she laid all of their secrets bare, even as they dragged her away.

He dreamed of after. Deafening silence, smoldering coals, a deep chill. A loud sob, their ritual pot flung into the night, the smell of all of the herbs being torched at once. Ashes scattered across the floor at dawn, the only thing left of her. Gone, forever.

He dreamed of the wolves. Rushing blood during the hunt, quiet padding of feet, the musk of the pack. The joy of bringing down large prey, the sting of playful nips, the howls of family rising up in a chorus that could never be stopped. But there was a darkness, creeping and smoldering.

They would soon be gone. Forever. The comfort and belonging and safety never to be found again.

The pack was dying.

Shawn woke in a cold sweat, his throat sore from repressed screams. Soft snores rose from his new friend and his old friend who were curled up on either side of the bed. But they weren't the ones he needed answers from. He quietly climbed out of the deceptively warm mattress; there was nothing but pain there.

He wouldn't feel that pain again. The pack was new, he wasn't a part of it, but he could be. The connections were there. The danger in Juliet, the kindred spirit in Woody, the kindness of Buzz. He could make a home here, someday. But he had to know what was going on. He checked that his knife was in easy reach and padded out into the hallway.

He needed to have a talk with his betrothed.

Chapter Text

Lassiter couldn't sleep. His bed called to him with the urge to dig a den and surround himself in safety, but he couldn't heed its call. There were too many thoughts in his head for him to dare lie down and become vulnerable. Thoughts of the Weakness, thoughts of magic, and thoughts of her.

Werewolves mated for life, and Victoria had left him. He'd buried that anger and the betrayal behind a thick layer of fur and bared teeth, but now there was an annoying human digging it all back up again. An annoying human who, in just two weeks, would be bound to Lassiter for life.

An annoying human with a smell of sparkling citrus that was growing stronger. Lassiter growled before smelling the underlying twinge of fear. Great, the human had probably done something idiotic and had gotten into trouble.

Served him right.

The smell stopped at the door, and a knock soon followed. How likely was the human to go away if Lassiter didn't answer? The door knocked again as the smell of sparkles grew.

Not very likely it seemed… Though the human was already scared, maybe he could push him over the edge and be left alone. Lassiter interrupted another set of knocks by yanking the door open and grabbing the human's shirt, pulling him in and pinning him to the wall. Warm breath stuttered across his skin as he bared his teeth right next to the jugular. His chest rumbled as he channeled the wolf and growled, "What?"

But strangely, the smell of fear lessened instead of growing like it was supposed to. "What's the Weakness?"

How the hell had he learned about that already? "That's none of your concern."

"I'm pretty sure it's the reason I'm here, so it's completely my concern." The human made a weak attempt at baring his teeth back.

"You'll be told when you're ready."

"I already know most of it. You need me because the pack is dying. You're desperate."

"Of course we're desperate." There wasn't any point in denying it. "Why else would we waste our time on a whelp" –Lassiter rammed the human into the wall. Let him feel how small he was. "like you."

But the human refused to act like he was supposed to. His smell sparkled as he narrowed his eyes. Lassiter growled. He wanted to See? Fine.

Lassiter thought about the Weakness; how it felt for his strength to melt away until they were relying on traps to eat at night. How the dread grew as they grew sick for longer and longer, knowing that someday it wouldn't be cured by the full moon. He thought about how, even in his weakened state, he'd still killed a man. He remembered the sickening crack of the rock against a skull, the tacky warmth between his fingers, the smell of blood and brains.

The human gasped and jerked back, the fear finally returning where it belonged. Except there was a new smell with it… the sharp tang of metal. Lassiter looked down and snarled at the pitiful knife that was now clutched in the human's hand. There was only one thing more pitiful than unarmed prey.

Overconfident prey who thought they were armed.

"Don't bring that out unless you plan to use it," Lassiter snarled before throwing the human to the floor. Pitiful.

"Yeah? You tell that to the last person who shared your room?"

How dare he. Lassiter lunged forward, but the human wasn't there anymore, having rolled to his feet and flowed around the attack.

"Did she not like your attitude either? Or did she leave you for a vampire?"

"As if she would ever look twice at those walking carrion." The human wasn't always an idiot; he'd put the bed between them. Lassiter stalked his prey, who quickly realized he was now trapped in the corner of the room.

For a blindingly idiotic moment, it looked like he was about to throw his knife at Lassiter. Instead, he let it drop to the ground as he glared and used his more potent weapon. "She clearly didn't look twice at you either. What, did she not want to be married to someone who was becoming feeble?"

Lassiter saw red as he jumped forward again. That hadn't been why. It hadn't. But the human managed to evade his grip again, the beginnings of the Weakness making him just slightly too slow. Why wouldn't he fight?

"She leaves you, a species who mates for life, oh no, how terrible, you'll never love again…" His voice was almost childish in its mocking even as his eyes stayed hard and ready. Lassiter lashed out, finally landing a hit as his nails raked the human's face. But the human just wouldn't stop as he stumbled away and kept talking. "So your gorgeously furry head decides to marry the first person you see, cure your heart, magic all of your little problems away… I knew you were arrogant; I didn't think you were stupid."

The rage overtook him, its claws raking down his back as its teeth snapped behind his eyes, urging him forward as he ran into the human and brought them both to the ground.

"I'm not doing it for me!" His fist hit the floor where a head should have been. Nothing else mattered except making him pay. His other fist found a rib. He had to make him hurt. The human's head snapped to the side with the smell of blood. He had to make him stop. "I'm doing it for the pack!"

"Why does the pack care…" the human blocked the next hit with his arm. "who shares…" he winced as another hit landed. "your bed?"

"They don't!" The human's throat was exposed. Lassiter lunged forward, his teeth ready to rip and shred. The human didn't try to stop him.

Instead, the idiot lifted his chin, making it a larger target. "Then prove it."

What was wrong with him? The red haze cleared enough for Lassiter to see the long red welts along the human's cheek, the blood dripping from his nose, and the pulse dancing in his throat. They still needed him. Lassiter rocked his weight off of the human, staying in a ready crouch. "Get out."

"No." The idiot. "I'm not leaving until you tell me why I'm here. Do I need to start on your father next?"

That was an old wound that wouldn't bleed so easily. And the human wasn't the only one who could play that game. "At least my father cared about me when he was alive."

The human's face darkened and his scent soured. His voice didn't betray any of his feelings as he asked, "You've already tried magic, I'm not a curse breaker or a healer, so how are my 'abilities' supposed to help your pack?"

They'd have to tell him eventually, Lassiter had just selfishly hoped it'd be the chief doing it. "We've tried those too; they weren't able to do anything." The witch's words echoed in his memories. "Only one person has even known about the Weakness. She said it was old magic; from the Spirits of Ertha instead of from any creature."

The human… Shawn sat up and gently wiped his nose before checking the blood left on his hand. He didn't seem concerned. "She told you how to cure it, didn't she?"

"She did. From inside the pack the answer will come; only magic can stop the setting sun."

"Huh… Well that's utterly unhelpful."

Lassiter shrugged, the weight of the day threatening to pull him under. "It's all we have. There's your answer; now get out."

"That's fair." Shawn reached over to retrieve his knife before slowly standing with a groan. "Man, if that's you when you're weak, I'd hate to go up against you when you're at full strength."

He'd see them even weaker before they could transform and perform the ceremony… Would he even want to stay? "You'd be dead if I was at full strength."

"I think you're right," Shawn agreed as he slipped the knife into a hidden sheath behind his back. "Though… Gus is going to go mad when he sees the blood. I don't suppose I could–"

"No. Get out."

"Your loss." Shawn shrugged and took a step forward before stumbling dramatically. He moaned and walked to the door with an exaggerated limp. "You're sending a man to his death; just so you know."

"I can live with that." Lassiter closed the door on the idiot's face.

Though, it occurred to him as he finally curled up on his bed; maybe the human wasn't as idiotic as he'd first thought.

Vick found him the next morning. Her voice was mild as she pointed out, "Your future mate smells like blood."

"Does it matter if I said he deserved it?"

She elongated the word with a dry tone. "No…"

"...Fine. I won't do it again."

"Thank you. He needs to be alive to become a member of the pack."

"How can we know that's what the witch meant?" Lassiter whined before he could stop himself. He tried to keep his mouth shut, but all it took was one expectant look from the chief for everything else to come tumbling out. "How can magic know if its vessel is married into the pack? Why can't it be some hybrid who manages to keep their magic? Why can't he just live in the keep? Why does it have to be me?"

"Because I said so." Vick huffed a laugh at the glare he shot her way. She tilted her head to the side as she offered, "Walk with me." Lassiter fell into step with her as she made her rounds to check on the rest of the pack. They called her chief, because she was in charge, but sometimes 'pack mother' was still the more accurate term.

"Interpreting visions can be tricky and no one knows how magic works, only that it does. Sheppard, who's on hunting duty?"

A tall, skinny werewolf with spiky black hair stood up straight as he gave his report. Lassiter mulled over her words and answered once Sheppard had left again. "But visions usually aren't that direct. We've all heard the tales about 'true love' being sibling love or 'a death' being someone changing instead of actually dying…"

"And you're willing to take that chance?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Rituals require precise movements and incantations… If we can be precise as well, then we will be."

"There's nothing precise about 'stop the setting sun'," Lassiter grumbled.

"Buzz, get that out of your mouth," Vick ordered instead of replying. Buzz spat out the clove of garlic with a chagrined look. Great, he was going to smell terrible for the rest of the day… and it wasn't fair that he'd be the only one who didn't notice it.

"As for why you…" Vick stopped at the stairs leading up to Lassiter's room. Her scent changed, the wolf husk growing stronger. "Because your pain is the pack's pain. I think he'll be good for you… Johnson, let him go!"

Johnson grinned from the breakfast table and held his packmate in a headlock for another second before finally letting go. The other werewolf scrambled away from the bench, his face bright red in embarrassment. Johnson called out in his signature raspy voice, "Would it matter if I said he asked for it?"

"Spirit's take me, I need some tea…" Vick grumbled to herself as she rubbed her forehead. "Lassiter, you take care of Dobson. Your betrothed was starting to sniff around him."

"Shit." They all knew Dobson's disdain for humans. And his resentment at Lassiter for earning the position of Adjunct despite their large age difference. "Where is he?"

"Parade grounds. And no, you can't let him kill the human for you."

Which wasn't fair; he'd only just thought of that himself… But even as he huffed his annoyance, a strange feeling rose from the nape of his neck, like phantom fur along his hackles were standing on end. The human wasn't Dobson's to harm. "Fine. I'll take care of it."

It didn't take long to find where the humans had gone; Lassiter just had to listen for the sounds of chaos and smell for the twinge of fear. The fear was coming from the human's friend, naturally. His human wasn't smart enough to be afraid while Dobson crowded into his space.

"...don't need any of you stinking humans. You can't help but stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

"My nose belongs everywhere; it's an equal-opportunity sniffer."

Dobson growled, his face only inches from Shawn's. He leaned in and snapped his teeth together. "You better hope your betrothed doesn't change his mind. You'll be part of this pack one way or another. And I'd love to be the one to make you scream as you turned."

Dobson was one of the eldest werewolves; he'd held a grudge ever since his mate had been killed while defending the human village from a herd of centaurs. In his words, humans were only good for one thing. And it wasn't mucking.

"This feels personal. What, did I accidentally flirt with your mate or something?"

Time stood still as Dobson lunged at the idiot. Lassiter sprinted forward as he barked out, "Dobson!"

Dobson stopped right before his teeth would break skin, but it hadn't been Lassiter's yell that stopped him. It had been the knife that was now digging into his stomach; a clear threat. A clear challenge.

"Well, well… the ape has teeth." Dobson's voice dropped lower as he met the challenge. "But does the ape know how to use them?"

The human was going to get himself killed. Lassiter growled, breaking their staring match. "Back off, he's mine."

"Look who finally chose to show up." Dobson gave Lassiter an icy glare. "You done with your daily ass kissing?"

"Yes, I am." Lassiter dropped into a fighting stance. A challenge had been issued, but his duty allowed him to make it his. "Now it's time for ass kicking."

The courtyard grew quiet as the two werewolves faced off. Packmates rarely fought, but when they did, it was fierce and often bloody. Dobson's eyes narrowed before he stepped back, ceding the fight. "He's not worth my time. You want him; he's yours."

Lassiter didn't want him; he just didn't want Dobson to have him. It was completely different. "Juliet is leading a hunting party down by the ravine. You should meet up with them."

Dobson's teeth bared at the barely disguised order, but his eyes stayed averted as he turned around and left the courtyard. Shawn watched him go before turning his odd stare to Lassiter. "Last night you were ready to tear out my throat, now this morning you save it?"

"The pack needs you alive." The pack was the only reason.

"Uh-huh… Whatever you have to tell yourself." Shawn relaxed his grip on his knife and nearly dropped it in the process. Even if he miraculously managed to not be killed by a werewolf, he was going to kill himself at this rate.

"Don't keep that thing if you don't know how to use it," Lassiter couldn't help but say. Yes, it had been impressive how fast Shawn had been able to draw the knife, but that didn't mean anything if he couldn't actually wield it.

Shawn held the weapon up and poked the sharp tip. "This is the part that goes stabby stabby, right? How hard could that be?"

Lassiter growled and turned around to leave again. His human would live another day; he didn't have to be here anymore.

He heard raised voices behind him as Shawn's friend finally found his voice again. "Are you crazy?! You can't just go around pissing off creatures that can eat you."

"Gus, he wasn't going to eat me… Weren't you listening? He wanted to turn me. Or just straight up kill me. I'm not actually sure which."

"You are going to get yourself killed. And then you're going to get me killed. If you won't be smart for you, then at least be smart for me."

Lassiter just barely heard Shawn's retort as he turned back into the keep. "Being smart doesn't sound like fun. Then we wouldn't have seen that… Gods, he was sexy."

"You need help."

Lassiter's heart pounded as he sped up to get out of hearing range. It didn't matter what his– the human thought. It didn't. He'd do his duty for the pack and that was it.

Then if the magic didn't work, he'd get rid of the whelp himself.

Chapter Text

"I pray of you," Gus begged again. It had been days and he was growing desperate.

"I can't; I simply don't have time," Woody answered far too cheerfully. His arms were buried elbow-deep into a void black monstrosity of a chicken.

"I don't know how to cook, and none of us want Shawn cooking… You're my last hope."

"Meat takes too much time." Woody removed a bloody hand from the corpse and waved it through the air. "It's just not worth it. I'd rather eat a handful of fruit and get back to it." His hand hovered over a small bowl of nuts before retreating back to the viscera he was studying.

Gus' stomach twisted and he desperately swallowed against the growing urge to gag. Did he actually want this man touching his food? Rabbit stew, roasted bird, lamb chops… "I can pay you back. I can write what you've learned, or maybe I've read a book you haven't, or… or I can, uh, help. With what you're doing…" He could do this. Spiced venison, sauced wings, steak. "I need meat."

"Hmmm… I suppose a scribe could be useful… I'm always having to repeat experiments when I don't remember what I did last." Something cracked in the carcass and Woody grinned as he peeked closer. "For example, I think I've done this before, but I don't remember what color it was last time… Which means we can't answer if the bone marrow is always the same depending on subspecies." Another crack sounded out and Woody's hand returned, holding a dripping bone with a strange black core. "Well? Chop chop, I have to get through that pile" –he nodded towards a pile of dead things behind him– "before I could even think of cooking."

Meat; glorious meat. He could do this… Gus pulled out his supplies and started writing, "Specimen one, weird chicken. Black bone marrow."

"Midnight black," Woody corrected. "And it's a dire chicken, which I'll grant you is weird, but one must be precise in these things." A thick glob of something dripped back into the dire chicken's open gut.

Gus gagged and looked away as he made the corrections. He was earning that meat.

He'd do a lot of things for Shawn, but that didn't include vegetarianism.

"I don't get him, it's like he hates me or something," Shawn complained as they walked around the castle.

Gus rolled his eyes at his idiotic friend. "And therefore, you keep bugging him."

"Asking him how a unicorn tastes was important."

"Of course it was." For as long as Gus had known him, Shawn had never known when to quit. Unfortunately, things usually seemed to work out for him, which only made the habit worse.

"Really…? You're not going to ask?"

"Nope." Gus patted his full belly in satisfaction; working for Woody definitely had its perks. And helping him in the kitchen meant he knew exactly what he was eating, which was especially important around the odd medicine man.

If it also made him feel semi-useful… Well, that could stay between him and the dead chickens.

Shawn didn't last a minute before answering the question Gus refused to ask. "Sparkles. He says they smell like sparkles and stardust, and somehow that means he doesn't want to know what they taste like. Why wouldn't he want to taste that?"

"There is the whole being cursed if you eat one too, you know." Gus shrugged even as his curiosity tried to imagine the flavor profile of stars. "They already have one curse to deal with."

"Yeah…" Shawn's fingers reached out to absentmindedly run along the rough stone walls. "I don't, uh, suppose you've read anything about that curse?"

A twinge of guilt had Gus looking away. He was one of the best read people in their village, and even he didn't have any answers. What good was he if he didn't have the answers? "Sorry, but no. I barely know anything about magic at all; it's like any books there may have been have been burned-" He cut himself off with a wince.

The dark shadow that passed over Shawn's face made it clear that Gus hadn't stopped himself soon enough. "Yeah, that would make sense. Why learn about magic when you can just stomp it out of existence? It's not like we have a treaty with literal magic beings or anything…"

It had never made sense to Gus either. Magic was a wonderful tool and there was so much knowledge to be found with it. Destroying knowledge out of fear was only good for sending them back to the dark ages. "Sorry. I can see if they have any books around here. Or maybe Woody knows more…"

"Lassiter said there was only one person who knew what was going on," Shawn said, frustration coloring his words. "And that answer was completely unhelpful."

"Maybe that's the point." Gus stopped, his thoughts suddenly racing as several connections were made all at once. "Werewolves are all about instinct, right? They follow their wolf-side even when they're in human form. It's part of who they are. You've told me you use your Gift like that too. So maybe, when it's time, it'll be instinctual too. If you were told what to do, then it wouldn't work."

He looked over to see Shawn's reaction, but instead only saw a tilted head and squinting eyes. Of course; why listen to an explanation when he could See it? Gus rolled his eyes and slapped Shawn upside the head.

Shawn's eyes quickly refocussed as he clutched the injury. "Ow! What was that for!"

"I just had a perfectly good realization, and you didn't even hear it!"

"Yeah, because I was having my own realization. What if it's instinctual?"

Dangerous wolf castle or boring village, Shawn was, infuriatingly, always the same. Gus glared at him before walking off without a word. He had better things to do than yell at his best friend. Like seeing if there were any grapes left from the werewolves' dinner.

"Gus? You didn't tell me what you thought of my idea… Where are you going?" Shawn paused, waiting for Gus to fill the silence. Satisfaction put a swagger in Gus' step as he avoided the trap. If there was one thing Shawn hated the most, it was being ignored.

"Gus!"

Gus smirked and kept walking.

The one bad thing about having Woody cook meat, besides the constant exposure to entrails, was having to constantly ask the werewolves for the food. As a general rule, Gus tried to not annoy anything that could eat him. Luckily, he knew one wolf who was far too nice to do so. And Buzz almost always hunted on his own, which meant Gus could corner him before the rest of the hunting group came in.

He rounded the corner to the food prep room and nearly turned right back around at the sour, salty smell. It smelled of oceans and algae and everything fishy. Maybe he could do without meat for a night…

"Oh, hey Gus!"

Gus pasted on a smile; Buzz was nice, but it didn't mean he didn't have teeth. It was best to be polite. "Hi, Buzz."

"I set traps a few days ago, look at this haul!" Buzz smiled happily at the pile of fish on the table, some of them still flopping around weakly.

"Uh… Yeah, that looks…" He couldn't say it. His stomach tried to empty itself and Gus backed away from the source of the godsaweful smell. "You know, you look busy, I can go and…"

"No no, it's fine!" Buzz stuck his hand in the middle of the pile and brought out a particularly large fish, its scales shining orange in the torchlight. "Here! This should be enough to feed you guys."

"Aren't you supposed to have magic smell powers or something?" Gus couldn't help but squeak out. Seriously, how was he able to stand it? "That smells awful."

"Ohhhh…" Buzz's smile turned rueful as he dropped the fish back to the table. "Well, that doesn't really… affect me. At all."

"Wait, really?" It was so strong, how could it not affect him? "Like, just fish smells…?"

"All smells." Buzz pulled out the descaler and poked at the nearest fish. "I couldn't smell before I was turned, still can't after. I can still taste though! But some of the pack thinks it makes me…" He shook his head, like a dog shaking away water, before his signature grin came back. "But that means I'm perfect for the smellier jobs!"

What a strange affliction to have, not to mention the Turning not fixing it… And it also explained why so many of the pack seemed to look down on Buzz. Which really wasn't fair. "You know, I had an uncle… he made someone mad and they threw hot tar in his face. He couldn't see afterwards, but he still played the best bladder pipe in the village."

"Good for him!" Buzz picked up the large fish. "Are you sure you don't want this?"

Even that puppy dog look couldn't convince Gus to take that fish. "Very. Until next time."

"Fare thee well!"

It looked like it was going to be a fruit and nut night. Which wasn't the end of the world, but it did feel lacking… Gus contemplated his lot in life, and everything he'd be eating if he was in the village, as he let himself into his and Shawn's room.

The werewolves had a surprising supply of blankets that they'd bartered for or made over the years, and at least one of the pack had made it their mission to make as many feather-filled mattresses as possible. Gus knew better than to ask where the feathers and fluff had come from, he was just grateful for their existence as he threw himself onto their luxuriously soft, blanket-covered bed. He might miss the food from the village, but he didn't miss the straw mattresses.

"I heard your conversation."

Gus yelped and jumped back to his feet, and Juliet snorted in amusement from the dark corner of the room where she'd been standing. Oh gods, this was the moment. They'd just been fattening him up for the slaughter…

Juliet rolled her eyes and brought her hand up, showing a plump, very dead rabbit. "How many times do we have to say we won't eat you…?"

"As long as it takes for me to not hear the 'yet' that you never say," Gus said, his voice shaking. Why else would she ambush him?

"Then let me put it another way." The rabbit swayed in her hand as she pointed towards the great hall. "Even fish tastes better than human. As long as you see us bringing food in, then you're not worth it. Does that help?"

How did she know what human tasted like…? Juliet's smirk grew, showing a glimmer of teeth.

She was definitely one of the less scary werewolves, but she was still worthy of caution. "Then… how do I put this politely… Why are you here?"

"I'm here to offer a trade." She held up the rabbit again. The large, delicious, definitely-not-a-fish rabbit that would be able to fill all three of them if mixed with the right vegetables and broth…

Gus took a step closer. "I'm listening…"

"Both of our friends will be better off if they don't see each other much before the full moon. You get first pick of my hunts for every day you keep yours away from mine."

It was so close, and yet so far… "I can't do that. Nothing short of death will stop Shawn when he's curious. And I wouldn't put it past him to come back as a ghost just to snoop around some more."

"Then why are you here?" Gus jolted as his own misgivings were thrown in his face. More of Juliet's teeth showed as she took a dangerous step forward. "You don't keep your friend safe, you don't even keep him in check, you don't hunt, you don't have magic…"

"I've been helping Woody," Gus answered faintly.

Juliet dismissed the argument. "He was doing fine without you. We need your friend; we don't need you. Are you going to earn your keep or not?"

"I told you, I can't. No one can…" The rabbit dropped to Juliet's side as she took another menacing step. "OK, uh, I can't every day. It just won't work. I can give you every three days, tops." Her lips pulled away from her teeth. "No one else could give you better. If nothing else, trust me to know what my friend is capable of."

Juliet stopped and narrowed her eyes in thought. A crazy idea occurred to Gus and he quickly added, "And if you want to help your friend, then you'll let Shawn ask you his questions. Lassiter won't tell him anything and is just expecting him to disappear until the ceremony and then probably disappear again afterwards. That's not how my friend works. It would be like demanding you to make Lassiter act nicer."

Juliet paused as she seemed to take in what he'd said. Her head cocked to the side before a small smile made itself known. "You have a deal." She tossed the rabbit across the small gap between them, and Gus caught it without thinking. It hung limp in his hands, its dead eyes staring into his reproachfully as the body still radiated warmth. Juliet's voice was cheerful as she bounced towards the door. "I'll see you both here after dinner. I'll only answer what's mine to share and I'll leave if I smell a hint of magic."

"Deal."

The door closed behind her and Gus' nervously twitching fingers found a sharp angle under the rabbit's fur. He imagined a snare snapping tight enough to snap bones and gulped down the urge to vomit.

Shawn had better appreciate everything he did for him… Gus steeled himself and left the safety of the room. He needed to find a crazy man to cook the food he'd just bartered from a dangerous wolf lady.

Gods, his life was weird.

Chapter Text

Shawn's legs jittered as he sat on the bed. What was taking so long?  Gus had said he could have answers, but he hadn't said anything about having to wait a lifetime to get them... Something finally itched in his mind, telling him someone was approaching. He sat up straight and bit his tongue to stay quiet when the door opened.

Gus had insisted that he have the first word. Considering they were sharing a room and he wasn't above retaliation while Shawn slept… it was best to let him have a few wins.

"You're both here already," Juliet said, sounding satisfied. She closed the door behind her and leaned against the wall.

"Yes." Gus stepped between them and read from a list he'd written. "Now first, the rules. Juliet, you agree to answer any question Shawn asks, as long as it's not infringing on someone else's private information. Shawn, you agree to keep your Sight to yourself and to ask Juliet your questions instead of running and asking Lassiter. I'll be keeping an eye on Shawn to make sure he follows his side of the bargain, and in return, we get part of Juliet's hunt."

"On the days you're successful," Juliet corrected with a small smirk.

"On the days I'm successful." Gus glared at Shawn warningly before asking, "Do we have an agreement?"

"Agreed," Juliet said.

Finally. "Sure, sounds good, so what happened with Lassiter's wife?"

"Shawn!" Gus glared and mouthed the word 'meat!'

"You said to keep all of my questions for her; I did!"

Juliet raised an eyebrow, somehow conveying 'If that's the best you can do, then I'm definitely going to win' without saying a word. "That's not mine to tell. Next."

"Not even a hint?"

"No."

Gus loudly whispered, "Shawn! Move on."

"They mate for life, she left, there's gotta be a story there…" It wasn't a story he was expecting to hear, but at least it softened her up for his next question. "Why did the chief pick Lassiter? He hates me."

"I don't know."

He would have felt something if she was lying. "Why not you? At least you're talking to me."

He finally scored a reaction as she snorted, like she was trying to clear her nose of a bad smell. "I came to the pack because I didn't want to marry. I'm not about to start now."

Now they were getting somewhere. "Why didn't you want to marry?"

"Does making babies and cooking and doing everything your husband tells you sound good to you?" She snapped her teeth in aggravation. "The fact that the man they chose was exactly like my father… I didn't even have to think about if I wanted to be Turned."

Shawn would be lying if he hadn't thought about running away from time to time. But the confidence she said it in was awe inspiring. "Did it hurt?"

"Excruciating," she answered cheerfully. "Better than the alternative."

Which brought up an interesting question. "Is that why there's no other humans here? If someone couldn't de-curse you, did they get Turned?" Gus' head snapped in his direction, which Shawn acknowledged with a look as he asked, "Will we get Turned if I can't fix you all?"

"No," Juliet replied firmly. "Forcing people to Turn is the number one way for a pack to fall apart. Johnson decided to do it; he said it was less dangerous to be a wolf than it was to be a curse breaker. Althea seems happy with his choice. Anderson's wife died just last year, she's the one who made your blankets. She had a knack for textile Magic. We… got rid of Magnus after he tried to challenge the chief too many times. The light in Woody's area was the only good he ever did."

"And by got rid of, you mean…" Gus prompted.

"I mean we chased him off and told him to go swimming at high tide so the fishes would at least get some food." She bared her teeth and something sharp spiked through Shawn's mind. Danger. "I very much hope he listened to our advice."

Gus cleared his throat, clearly thinking they were about to be eaten. "Right. Shawn? Are we done now?"

They weren't even close to done. "Why haven't we had the wedding yet?"

Juliet's face went blank before turning exasperated. "Of course he didn't tell you…" Her eye roll was both fond and annoyed. "Ceremonies are done under the full moon, so we have to wait another week."

"Wait, so I'll be marrying a wolf?" That was both the coolest and strangest thing he'd ever thought of.

"You'd be marrying a wolf either way," Juliet pointed out. "The ceremony is simple enough, the chief will explain it when it's closer to time."

"Uh…" the idea of a wolf in a dark blue dress with a floral crown wouldn't leave his mind and it was utterly unhelpful. "So… exactly how in control are you when the wolf form takes over?"

Juliet's eyes danced with mirth as she asked, "Maybe it's the human form that takes over, did you ever think about that?"

"If that's the case, then I look forward to meeting the real you," Shawn answered without thinking.

"Shawn!" Gus hissed at him. "What is wrong with you?"

"I was being nice," Shawn hissed back. Gus' eyes narrowed, like he was trying to slap Shawn with the power of his mind.

It never worked, but he always tried. But Shawn didn't even have to break his no magic rule to know what he was really thinking. "Gus really wants you to answer the question so he knows how much longer he has to live."

"I said we wouldn't eat you," Juliet told Gus, almost like she was disappointed that she had to say it again.

"Your human half said it, but what about your wolf half?" Gus asked in suspicion.

"All of me said it. There is no halves…" She shifted, her posture turning aggressive as she bared her teeth. Her voice was a feral growl as she added, "It doesn't matter what form we're in."

The hairs on the back of Shawn's neck stood on end, which he promptly ignored. "See, Gus? She said she wouldn't eat you, so that's that. Now, I have one more question." He walked up and clasped Gus on the shoulder, enjoying the way he jumped. It was too easy to annoy him sometimes. "Settle a bet for us. What does Gus smell like?"

A high pitched whistle woke Lassiter from a deep sleep. Less than a second later he was on his feet, rushing to grab his weapons.

Raiders were coming.

They didn't have much that humans would want, but there were a few magical items that were of worth and werewolves were always in demand for their pelts. Sometimes people decided a human-formed werewolf was easier to catch and hold rather than killing a wolf-formed werewolf in the wild.

Lassiter grunted as he slung his quiver over his shoulder. It normally felt feather-light… With the Weakness, the raiders might actually have a chance.

The shrill whistle changed, the long tone turning into several short bursts. Lassiter cursed at the count; there were too many. It felt like weights hung from his arms as he grabbed his bow and strung it. The string almost fell out of his weakened fingers as he slipped it over the tense wood and into its slot. It was a good bow; strong enough to punch through leather armor. But it was only as strong as its wielder. Would he be able to use it?

He drew the string back experimentally, the muscles in his back tightening at the familiar motion. It didn't take long for his arms to start trembling and he gently released the tension on the bow. It would have to be good enough. All it took was one well-placed arrow to bring a man down. And he was a good shot.

The whistle let out one more warning call before falling silent. The raiders were here.

And the raiders didn't know they'd been spotted; the whistle was higher than a person could hear. Lassiter pulled on a pair of boots and grabbed for the small, wooden whistle on a cord that he always kept next to his bed. He gave thanks to Johnson for enchanting them as he slipped it over his head and rushed out of the door.

He had a keep to defend.

He reached his post just a few minutes later, panting from his sprint up the stairs. He cursed his body as he readied his bow and looked down from the battlements into the courtyard.

It was the largest group of raiders he'd ever seen. He bared his teeth as they scurried over the broken stones like the rats they were. Shadows moved behind them and Lassiter nocked an arrow and sighted down its shaft, waiting for the signal as the trap was set.

A shrill shriek that made him want to pin his ears back sounded out and he drew the arrow back and released it. The quiet thwaps of other bowstrings were audible right before the first scream cut through the night. Three raiders fell, and the rest scattered to find cover. Lassiter brought his whistle to his mouth and let out his own signal, telling Juliet to move in.

When Vick had first come up with their strategy, Lassiter had fought back about not being on the ground with the fighting. As Juliet rushed forward with her javelin, he begrudgingly had to admit the chief had a point. They had to play to their strengths, and his would always be shooting. Juliet and another werewolf crowded in towards the group of raiders that outnumbered them three to one.  They used their longer weapons to their advantage, lunging and sweeping, forcing their enemies to choose between staying in cover or being stabbed.  

The courtyard was anything but quiet now, with yells and clashing metal and screams. Different pitched whistles cut over the rest of the noise, directing their correlating groups.  Lassiter pulled his arrow back and waited for Juliet to do her magic. A few long seconds later, and a human dodged one of her thrusts, taking him out of cover. Lassiter let his arrow fly, grinning at the sound of gurgling as the man fell with a shaft of wood piercing his throat. The pack was Weak, but they wouldn't go down easily.

 A pungent smell crackling with electricity overshadowed everything else, and a bright bolt of lightning suddenly lit up the area. The werewolf closest to Juliet screamed as he fell to the ground and convulsed from the hit. Darkness rushed in behind the light, leaving them all blinded.

Lassiter's lips pulled away from his teeth as he snarled and blinked away the afterimage of the lightning. The raiders had brought magic. Three quick bursts of his whistle had Juliet and a werewolf with a sword rally around their fallen packmate. Lassiter's arms screamed as he pulled the bow taut again, but he ignored them as he scanned the battlefield. Magic users usually needed a moment to recharge, it was when they were the most vulnerable.

His search was halted when the group of raiders tried to press their advantage and rushed forward. He quickly adjusted his aim and brought one down as Juliet stabbed another before sweeping her weapon to the side, keeping another two at bay. Her partner parried and blocked the strikes from another that had gotten too close before she finally darted forward. When she pulled back, her sword glistened with blood.

He had to trust them; they couldn't let the magic stay on the field. Lassiter blocked everything out, watching for any shadows that weren't acting like shadows should.

He finally found it, sneaking up behind Juliet as she lunged forward again. A sharp twang of the bowstring was followed by a pained yell as the magician became visible, the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. The sword-wielding werewolf spun around, her blade slicing through the man's throat. His blood sprayed out in a haze as he slowly fell to his knees and collapsed in the mud.

Lassiter could smell it from where he stood as he readied another arrow. His arms shook as he took aim, but it still flew true into the eye socket of one of the last raiders attacking his group. The fighting was already dying down, and he scanned the area for any more threats as Juliet took care of the last two raiders before slumping in exhaustion. There were several werewolves down, but they were all moving. Even the one who'd been electrocuted. It was so much better than it could have been.

A crash rang out behind him along with a scared yell. "Shawn!"

Ice ran through Lassiter's veins as he spun around towards the keep. The main raiding party had just been a distraction. And the humans were the only ones still inside.

His feet wouldn't move fast enough as he scrambled down the stairs, and the sounds of fighting grew as he drew closer to the great hall. A loud clatter sounded out as Gus yelled out, "Hey! Over here!"

Lassiter cursed as he ran faster, his legs feeling like lead. The humans were in danger. He jumped the last few stairs, just in time to see two raiders, one grappling on the floor with Shawn while the other stalked towards Gus with a menacing glare. Gus patted his belt frantically before coming up with his traveling ink pot, which he brandished like a weapon.

Lassiter's fingers fumbled as he pulled out another arrow. He was too slow, and he watched in horror as Shawn's attacker raised his sword.

Which Shawn didn't even seem to notice as he glanced over and yelled in alarm, "Gus!"

The sword came down and crashed on the stone floor where Shawn's head had just been. Metal flashed and the attacker's head snapped to the side as the hilt of a knife smacked into his temple. Shawn rolled to his knees as the raider fell, flipping the weapon so he was gripping the blade. His arm pulled back, and the knife soared through the air, right into the other raider's back. He fell less than a foot away from Gus, who was standing with his own arm ready to throw the ink.

And Lassiter gaped at the scene, his arrow nocked without anyone to shoot. What had just happened? Shawn's head snapped up, and Lassiter found himself staring into the eyes of a fellow predator.  An instinctual urge howled at him, and Lassiter lowered his bow as he bared his throat in respect. Shawn blinked in surprise before a voice broke through their silent communication. "You killed him!"

Shawn's whole demeanor shifted as he rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. "You didn't even have a weapon! What was I supposed to do?" He glanced at Lassiter again before pointing towards the basement.

"I did too have a weapon!" Gus brandished the ink pot he was still gripping tightly. The smell of residual fear rolled off of him in waves even as he argued, "Have you ever had ink in your eyes?"

"Not this again. He had a sword."

"But he wouldn't have been able to use it if he was blinded."

"He was about to skewer you."

"I was biding my time. I had to catch him off guard."

Juliet rushed into the hall only to stop and stare at the scene. Lassiter shook himself and nodded towards the stairs going down; there was still more fighting to be done. She nodded in understanding, even as she raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the two grown men arguing over a cooling corpse.

Lassiter couldn't help but agree. He'd severely underestimated them. He wasn't going to do that again.

Chapter Text

The smell of blood and sweat mingled in the cool stale air of the dungeon. Wounded werewolves were escorted up the stairs with bandages around their head and legs, others were set up on cots near Woody's work area. Lassiter saw them all without seeing any of them as he zoned in on the werewolf bathed in bright light on Woody's table.

Juliet sat with her shirt partially off as the closest thing they had to a doctor treated the long gash along her ribs. Lassiter's breath caught in his throat as he took in the extent of the wound, how it gaped and wept blood, stretching across her side and reaching towards the middle of her chest. He'd seen it happen, the sword that had crossed under her guard. If she'd been just a bit closer, or if he'd been just a bit slower…

There'd been four more raiders who'd managed to sneak in. Juliet and Lassiter had barged in on them threatening Woody, who'd been babbling about how he couldn't be killed before he'd managed to finish his book. They'd been less interested in future readers and more interested in current trophies. Like the magical light that was currently illuminating Juliet's wound.

Lassiter stalked up to the oblivious medicine man and snarled, "Why did it take you this long to get to her?"

"Now, now, don't fret," Woody answered as he applied a foul stenched poultice. "It might look bad, but it's mostly superficial."

That wasn't good enough. "You still should have–"

"Lassiter," Juliet barked out. She hissed through her teeth before she was able to go on. "Other packmates needed him first. Althea's been helping him."

Lassiter cast a derisive glance over at the small black-haired werewolf before focusing back on Juliet. "That doesn't mean he couldn't–"

"Yes. It does." Juliet pinned him with an icy glare, daring him to say another word.

Lassiter didn't look away, but he also didn't speak. There wasn't any winning when she got like that. Her eyes dropped to pointedly stare at his arm, and he angled his body away to hide the makeshift bandage. The deep gouge burned hot white at the reminder, his own token of a near miss. He set his jaw, refusing to look away as Juliet quirked an eyebrow knowingly. They didn't need to waste time on his injury; it had been his own idiocy that had caused it. They shouldn't have moved in without backup….

"There you go, my dear," Woody said, breaking up the silent communication as he wrapped a bandage around her torso. "No running and jumping for at least three days. And if you'd like" –he wagged his eyebrows suggestively– "You could always come down here and let me study your healing rate…"

"I think I'm good," Juliet answered with a tolerant smile. She winced as she slid off the table and Lassiter moved quickly to brace her uninjured side. "I'm fine; I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

She set her jaw and took a step without limping. "I'm fine. Werewolf healing, remember?"

Lassiter took a step to stay by her side and ignored the deep pain in his arm. "I know. Which means I know it still hurts."

"And that I'll be fine." Juliet nodded to a bench in the back. "You should check on Benedict. It didn't sound good; he needs you more than I do."

Lassiter looked over to where Vick was already kneeling at their packmate's side. The smell of burnt hair and skin was easy to smell from the lightning wounds crossing his body. Juliet took another step away from him and he quietly asked, "Can you at least promise to not strain yourself?"

"Only if you don't." Juliet looked pointedly at his arm again.

Lassiter huffed at her and she huffed right back, her lips quirking up in a smirk. To think that he could have lost that… Lassiter met her eyes and they held each other's gaze as he begged her silently to take care of herself.

She nodded in silent agreement before jerking her chin towards the back corner, bringing him back to his duty. He nodded back gratefully before walking over to the chief.

"How is he?" he asked quietly.

Benedict answered with a breathless moan as his head lolled to the side, showing the dark warped skin running down his cheek and neck. Vick laid a hand on his shoulder and answered quietly, "Only time will tell."

He only needed to survive four more days. The transformation wouldn't heal him completely, but it would give him strength. "He's strong; he'll make it."

"He is strong," Vick agreed, like she was speaking directly to Benedict. Her eyes flicked up to Lassiter's and her voice gained an edge. "The timing of this wasn't random. See if your betrothed sensed anything."

Lassiter had had the same thought. One of the largest raiding parties they'd ever seen, and it just happened to occur when they were at their weakest? It wasn't a coincidence. "I will."

Vick dismissed him with a nod. "Go and find out now. I'm going to stay with him a little while longer."

"He'll run with the pack again," Lassiter promised.

Vick answered in their tradition, "Either with us or in the sky. I know."

There wasn't anything else Lassiter could do there. He turned around and went to find answers.

Predictably, the humans were arguing when Lassiter came into the great hall.

"He was giving me the evil eye!" Gus pointed to one of the restrained raiders who were huddled together while Buzz watched over them with a crossbow.

"No he wasn't."

"Yes he was, I saw him!"

Shawn sighed and turned to the man. "Can you please tell him you weren't giving him the evil eye?"

"I'm going to slit both of your throats and make you drink your own blood," the man snarled back.

"See? He just wants to slit our throats and make us drink blood. No evil eye involved."

The two versions of Shawn warred in Lassiter's mind, the one who calculated fights and could kill a man without blinking and the one who was an absolute idiot with a death wish. Lassiter stepped closer and took a measured sniff. Fear, blood, and sweat were all overwhelming, but under all of it was a thick smell of sparkles. Shawn wasn't just talking.

Gus retorted again and Lassiter asked Buzz, "How long have they been going like this?"

"Oh, they never stopped," Buzz answered with a large smile. His crossbow stayed steady, aiming at the nearest raider's heart.

Shawn looked around to find the owner of the new voice and his face brightened. "Lassie! There you are!"

Lassie?!

Shawn took one look at his face and took a small step back. "So we're not to the point of pet names yet?"

Lassiter growled; he had a pack member dying in the basement. He didn't have time for this. "What did you See?"

The idiot with a death wish pointed to the raider who was definitely giving him an evil eye. "Well, he doesn't like us very much." His eyes unfocused and he spoke faster. "He also doesn't want you to know he's the leader of this little gang. He's also the one who got his orders from the wizard. Magnus."

Magnus! That conniving, selfish, scum of the earth, bastard!

The man paled at the name and Shawn smirked, his eyes sharpening as he mentioned offhandedly, "Oh yeah, and he said he'd curse you if you said his name. It's ok, I'm sure he won't count this…"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" The raiders next to the man shifted uncomfortably, the smell of fear spiking from them.

Lassiter stalked forward to bare his teeth in the man's face. "It pales to what I can do now. Tell me, where were you going to meet him?"

Magnus was too much of a coward to come after them himself.

It didn't seem possible, but the man paled even further, his eyes a bloodshot of color in his otherwise sheet white face. "I don't know. I swear. He said I'd know it once I had a werewolf for him to study."

"Why did he want a werewolf?" Shawn asked.

"I don't know! He just said to bring one, dead or alive, and we could have any other baubles we could find!"

Shawn studied the man for a second before saying, "He's telling the truth. I can See the magic on him. He doesn't know where to go."

"Damnit." Of course that scumball would cover his tracks. "Buzz, Dobson." Dobson melted away from the shadows where he'd been watching the interrogation. "Take them and make them help with the cleanup. We don't need to be digging graves for their people. Let the chief decide what to do with them afterwards."

If he had his choice, they'd end up in the graves with the bodies. But Vick believed in sending people back to spread the word to leave them alone. Who knew if it had helped anything, and it made them seem soft, but it wasn't his call.

As the small group of raiders were escorted out, Lassiter pointed at Shawn. "You."

A flash of alarm passed across Shawn's face. "Is it about the 'Lassie' thing? Because I do that to everyone."

"It's true, he does," Gus quickly agreed.

Lassiter ignored them as he looked Shawn over. How was he not dead yet? His arm twinged in annoyance at the complete lack of injuries on the humans. "One last thing. Where is your sword?"

Shawn's face went completely blank before he waved his hand nonchalantly through the air. "Oh, well, you know how it goes… You wake up to the sounds of screaming, you get a bit excited, things are happening very fast, and really what else is someone supposed to do except–"

"He forgot his sword," Gus cut into the rambling.

"I forgot my sword," Shawn agreed.

Lassiter pointed where the raider had been grappling with Shawn just an hour ago. "He didn't forget his sword."

"And now he's digging graves. I think this is an important lesson for all of us."

"This isn't the first time we've been attacked. It won't be the last." Lassiter looked them both in the eye to make sure they were paying attention. "Mistakes like that can get both of you killed."

"Now you sound like my father," Shawn grumbled with an eye roll.

"Then your father is a smarter man than you." It was too harsh, but for some reason Lassiter didn't want to be the one having to bury their bodies. "Do better next time."

"You know, I'd like to point out that I did perfectly fine without the sword." Shawn pulled out his knife and flipped it through the air without looking. Something pulled inside of Lassiter's chest as Shawn caught it again while staring him down. How was he the same person? "I think I earned an answer to one of my questions, don't you?"

He didn't want to give in to their ridiculous games and idiocy… but the image of Shawn's determination as the knife flew through the air had Lassiter saying, "Fine."

Gus looked between them, like he could see something they couldn't. "Wait, really?"

"Why'd she leave?" Shawn asked immediately.

The usual pain was there, but Shawn was right. He'd earned his answer. "I'll always put the pack first. She thought she would have more priority than she did." Her eyes had been cold the day she'd left; the love in them gone. That was the first day he'd ever regretted being Turned. Lassiter stared into Shawn's intelligent hazel eyes and saw the kindling of a flame. "I'll always put the pack first."

Shawn didn't look away. "So that's why you agreed to bond with me… You really think I can break this curse?"

A few days ago, he would have said no instantly… "I owe it to the pack to try." He waved at the small pool of blood that had yet to be cleaned up. "This isn't a safe life; if you want to leave, now's your chance."

Shawn gave the moment the thought it deserved before glancing at Gus. "I don't want to leave. You?"

Gus scoffed. "You think I'd leave you here? You'd be lost without me."

It was an impressive show of loyalty, considering he'd assumed he was going to die almost every day they'd been there. As the humans performed a strange ritual where they hit their knuckles together, Lassiter remembered back to the fight. It hadn't been until Gus was in danger that Shawn had gone in for the kill.

They were their own pack.

Shawn took his thoughtful look as one of interest as he explained, "We call it a fist bump. Everyone will be doing it soon; mark my words."

Victoria hadn't understood… But maybe Shawn would. "Tomorrow," Lasitter found himself saying. "I'll answer another question."

He turned away and headed back to the basement. He needed to report to Vick. But it didn't stop his stomach from flipping when he heard Shawn say, "I told you he doesn't hate me now."

"It doesn't mean he likes you, though."

"Sure, but it's a start."

Was he actually ready for a start?

Lassiter was regretting the offer by the next day.

"What's your favorite color?"

Lassiter sighed as he took stock of their inventory. "Why do you want to know?"

Shawn leaned on the wall and crossed his arms, making his rough shirt pull tight around his biceps. "I need to know what color of flowers to pick you."

"So I have to watch them die and then throw them out. How poetic."

"You're a real romantic, huh." Shawn flexed his biceps, making his shirt pull even tighter. "Maybe I just want to impress you."

Lassiter rolled his eyes; even for a human, Shawn's muscles weren't much to be impressed by. "Blue."

"Just like your eyes," Shawn said in approval. "Nice. They're gorgeous, by the way. Especially when you're being all broody and glaring."

"They are not," Lassiter grumbled as he kept himself from glaring. Victoria had said the same thing… "You have your answer. Now shoo."

Shawn pushed himself off the wall and gave him a large smile. "My favorite's yellow."

"I didn't ask."

"You didn't have to," Shawn called over his shoulder as he skipped away.

"What does having fur feel like?"

What sort of a question was that? Lasitter stopped fletching new arrows so he could stare at Shawn. "I don't remember saying you could ask me a question every day."

"Really? You're going to just leave me hanging like that?" Shawn clutched his heart dramatically. "That hurts."

It would probably be faster to just answer the question… "It's like having hair, but all over your body."

"That is utterly unhelpful," Shawn complained. "Where's the meat? The details?"

"Don't you have better things to do?"

"I already set game traps, it's at least half an hour before Gus needs to save me from myself to feel useful, and my hair is always awesome. It doesn't need a scheduled time for that."

Unfortunately, he wasn't wrong… His hair was really nice. The thick brunette strands managed to look windswept and just slightly mussed in a way that flattered Shawn's constant energy. Lassiter looked away from the bit curling around Shawn's ear and studied the safer arrow. "What do you want from me? Fur is warm, it's protection, the wind cuts through it in waves when you run, and it makes it hard as hell to scratch an itch."

There was a beat of blessed silence before Shawn said wistfully, "Sounds nice."

Lassiter continued his job with determination as Shawn walked off, and he ignored how the room felt emptier than before.

"Was she a werewolf or a human?"

It took Lassiter a moment to realize who Shawn was asking about. "A werewolf."

Shawn jogged to keep up with Lassiter's longer stride as he inspected the outside of the keep. "I thought werewolfs never left their pack."

"They do when they find another one…" He didn't want to have this conversation. He didn't want to remember.

"Did you love her?"

Yes. "I only agreed to answer one question."

Shawn stopped and Lassiter left him behind. Good; hopefully that meant the conversation was over…

"You know," Shawn called out before rushing to catch back up, "it's only fair for you to get a question too."

Why had he thought getting to know this idiot might be a good idea? "I don't have any to ask."

"Really? We're going to be married. Don't you at least want to know if I snore, or chew with my mouth open, or if my feet stink when I take my shoes off?"

"Your feet already stink with them on," Lassiter grumbled at the smell of human coming off of him. The citrus note softened the tang, but it was still impossible to ignore.

"For your information… I also don't snore," Shawn told him seriously. "But I do apparently talk in my sleep."

"Of course you do…" Though, there was one thing he was curious about. "Who taught you to fight?"

Shawn made a face but still answered, "My father. He's been training me since my… since I was a kid."

It wasn't like him to stutter… But he didn't care. He didn't. Lassiter begrudgingly said, "Well, he did a good job on the training."

Shawn scoffed. "Not according to him. It would be 'acceptable' or 'not bad'. The man can't ever be pleased."

"You protected your friend," Lassiter argued. "And your knife throw was nearly perfect. You're saying he wouldn't be proud of that?"

"Ah, but it was only nearly perfect," Shawn corrected with a sarcastic finger point. "My elbow wasn't tucked in enough, the throw was a bit slow, and I shouldn't have gotten on the ground in the first place" –his voice grew gruffer with an angry edge– "and why didn't you remember the sword, Shawn, why can't you ever just think things through."

It was almost impressive at how carefree Shawn was if he really grew up with those kinds of expectations. "Why don't you think things through?"

Shawn's grin turned sharp. "I only agreed to answer one question. See you tomorrow, Lassie."

As Lassiter watched the strange man lope off, he realized the nickname didn't grate as much as last time.

Chapter Text

Shawn aimlessly wandered the keep, his fingers drumming nervously at his leg as he thought about the conversation he'd just had. Vick had taken her sweet time, waiting until the day of the first full moon before telling him what to expect at the wedding. She'd said something to the effect of 'making sure he wasn't going to leave beforehand', but he'd gotten the distinct feeling that she'd also been getting back at him for the chaos he'd introduced into her pack.

He'd known better than to use his gift to confirm that theory, though. Despite what Gus thought, he could exercise self-restraint. Not often, but he could.

"There you are!"

Speak of the man himself… Shawn turned and smiled at his best friend, carefully hiding the inklings of nerves that had decided to make his stomach their home. "Here I am! Did you miss me?"

"Don't give me that," Gus answered with an eye roll. "I know you just met with Vick. What did you learn?"

"Besides the fact that she can be petty when she wants to? Not much."

"So, what. We're going in blind?"

"Not entirely blind…" Shawn winced, knowing what his friend's reaction would be to what he had learned. "But they don't do best men…"

"What?!" Gus exclaimed in a high pitched, hurt voice. "We agreed! We'd be each other's best man!"

"I know! I tried to tell Vick that, but she just pointed out that no one in their right mind would try to steal a werewolf bride…" Shawn didn't have the heart to tell him that Gus being his best man had never made sense… They were supposed to be the best swordsman he knew, to protect them from raiders. He'd just agreed to it because he hadn't planned on ever getting married. The butterflies in his stomach chose that moment to swirl around, threatening to bring his dinner up with them. "We can still try to find a horse for you to ride, if you really want."

Gus crossed his arms as he pouted. "Right. Bring a horse around wolves. Sounds like a great plan."

"You'll still be my best man in here" –Shawn tapped his chest over his heart– "and in here." He tapped Gus' chest over his heart.

Gus smacked his hand away, but it was a much lighter hit than usual. He loved it; he just didn't want to show it. "So what did you learn?"

There was definitely room for more teasing, but Shawn found himself answering the question straight. "It'll happen in the forest when the moon is overhead, it doesn't take long, there's something about trust, and there's howling. Don't really know what else you'd expect from a wedding with wolves…"

"That's it? No minstrels, no vows, no ring…?" For the first time in almost a week, Gus looked like he wanted to ask to leave. "No feast?"

"Which one of us would wear the ring?" Shawn wondered out loud as another jolt ran through his gut. He ignored it and made his hand into a loose fist before miming trying to put something on his other hand. "Besides, ring… paw… I don't think you really thought this through."

"You haven't thought this through." Gus narrowed his eyes knowingly. "I know you're freaking out."

"Am not." Nervous tingling rushed down his back, sending the butterflies in his gut into a frenzy. "I have everything under control."

"Really," Gus said with fake interest. "So the idea of being bound to someone for your whole life with all of the commitment and expectations that that comes with isn't making you want to run for the hills right now?"

"They're more mountains than hills," Shawn grumbled.

"I knew you never wanted to be married," Gus shot back. "And I knew you got too dazzled by the werewolves to actually think things through when you accepted the proposal. You can't run from it anymore."

"I'm not running from it." He wasn't a coward. "I'm not you."

Gus set his jaw, but didn't take the bait. "Want to know what I think?"

"That the werewolves just want to eat us and we should run screaming back to the village," Shawn answered immediately. There was a small part of him that didn't mind the plan.

"Then I guess I know you better than you know me." Gus crossed his arms smugly.

So that was how he was going to play it? Shawn narrowed his eyes at the challenge, reaching out with his mind to See.

Gus wasn't nearly as annoyed as he was acting. He'd known he was right; Shawn was definitely freaking out if he'd fallen for such an obvious trap. For all that he could See about other people, he was really bad at seeing what was right in front of his nose. He hadn't worked this hard to make someone like him since Abigail… but he wouldn't be able to abandon Lassiter in a tavern like he had with her.

Though it had been fun watching Shawn try to flirt with her before that night. One of his most cherished memories was still that day with the horses; no matter how terrible it had smelled. Seeing his friend try to be suave before slipping in the dung and making a complete fool of himself. It was a miracle that he'd ever looked Abigail in the face again after such a mortifying and humiliating failure that absolutely everyone in the village had noticed and talked about for weeks…

Shawn pulled back his focus with a grimace. "All right, all right… You don't have to rub it in."

"Have to? No. Want to? Yes." Gus' smirk softened. "You've always been afraid of anything that could tie you down. And I'm not just talking about the marriage."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Shawn turned around and started walking. The conversation wasn't worth continuing.

Gus quickly caught up to him and stubbornly continued anyway. "Fine, then I'll say it straight." He spun around to walk backwards so he could say it to Shawn's face. "You. Like. Him."

"I like everyone." Especially people who impulsively asked him to marry them before even knowing his name. Especially people who were dangerous. Especially people who couldn't be predicted…

"It's more than that, and you know it. You always find a way to ruin it when people get too close."

"I haven't ruined it with you."

"Because you know I'm too stubborn to let you get away with it." Gus stopped, forcing Shawn to stop too or run into him. "This is the adventure you were looking for. Is it what you really want?"

"They live in a castle, they get to fight raiders, they have a crazy guy in the basement." Shawn ticked the adventures off on his fingers even as doubt crept into the spaces left behind. "And you heard Johnson's stories. They hunt monsters, they've met mermaids, they find magic stuff…" And he'd be bound to all of it, never getting to explore any further. Was it enough?

Gus seemed to read his mind as he asked, "If you left, where would you go?"

"Not back home," Shawn answered instantly. It had been such a relief in the last two weeks to not have his father looming over his shoulder constantly.

"It probably wouldn't be safe anyway…" Gus agreed. "At least someone has to have guessed why the werewolves were interested in you."

That was actually something Shawn hadn't thought about. They'd left their old village shortly after his mother had been taken away. It wasn't safe for people to know he had magic. Was his dad safe? "I guess I'd just go adventuring. See the world."

"We'd go adventuring," Gus corrected.

Which was what they'd agreed on, all those years ago. But it definitely made things more complicated. Shawn's father could take care of himself, but Gus… He wasn't helpless, but he wasn't exactly not-helpless either. Shawn had just barely been able to fight off two raiders, and that was after Gus had distracted one. What would happen if– when they got into trouble on the road? They wouldn't have a pack to watch their back.

And he couldn't deny the fact that part of him wanted to stay just to get to know the pack better. To try to help them. Lassiter had taken a chance with him, and it wasn't often that Shawn was so completely surprised by someone. He definitely wasn't the boring, doting wife that Shawn had assumed his father would pick for him eventually.

His father would be so mad if Shawn got married without his input… "Huh."

"Knew you'd get there eventually." Gus stepped to the side, freeing the path forward.

"You don't know what I decided."

"Sure I do. You had your 'I can make my father angry' look on."

Shawn couldn't help but huff a laugh. "I never should have doubted you."

"You know that's right."

Shawn smirked as he brought his hand up for the fist bump. Gus met him in the middle, their knuckles hitting satisfyingly together.

A moment of calm settled between them before Gus stepped back, eyeing Shawn up critically. "So, is that really what you're wearing tonight?"

Shawn's stomach flipped as he crossed his arms defensively over his simple loose tunic. "What? I washed it yesterday… and nearly everyone there will be a wolf. I think I'll be fine…"

"No. I'm not having it." Gus spun around and led them to the stairs. "If I can't be your best man, then at least I can make sure you look the part."

"You packed dress clothes?" Shawn asked skeptically while following.

"I knew you wouldn't."

"My hero," Shawn deadpanned.

Gus stopped at the next floor and a look of concern crossed his face. "Uh… Shawn?"

"Did you just figure out where babies come from?"

Gus winced, and Shawn had the distinct feeling that his joke had hit closer to the truth than he'd like. "You're marrying a wolf."

"I know that…"

"Yes... But he's going to be a wolf. On your wedding night…"

Shawn stopped dead in his tracks. "...Huh."

Shawn fidgeted with the cuffs on his sleeves as he walked down the hall for the seventh time. Gus had really delivered. The white cotton tunic was nicer than anything Shawn owned and the dark vest with black embroidery made him feel almost like a noble as he walked through the castle.

It didn't help settle his nerves, though, as he stopped at a closed door. He probably shouldn't have waited until the last minute to have this talk, but every other time he'd walked by the door he'd just… kept walking. He couldn't put it off any longer.

This moment would define the rest of his life. Knocking on this door would lock in his decision… Normally he took great delight in acting without thinking. It went against everything his father stood for, and he worked best in a crisis. But this was too big for his usual approach. Big and scary and very, very permanent.

But it was also the best adventure he'd ever find. It was the right choice. He raised his fist and rapped on the door, his legs jittering off his nervous energy. Maybe Lassiter wouldn't answer. Maybe he'd had second thoughts…

The door opened and the last rays of sunshine shone behind Lassiter, outlining him in a soft glow. Outlining all of him in a soft glow. Shawn's stomach flipped in the face of his shirtless betrothed; he was about to be bound to this man for life.

He couldn't help it as his eyes traveled down, from the blue eyes that he could get lost in to the rugged beard that so perfectly framed everything to the completely unexplored places below. His hands itched with the urge to run through the thick curls on Lassiter's chest, or to feel his toned shoulders, or his tight stomach…

His gaze caught on the pants that were hanging loosely from his hips and snapped his eyes up before his imagination could get ahead of itself. The handsome werewolf smirked at the look, his lips parting just enough to show a glint of teeth. He knew what he was doing… "And here I thought I'd get away from having to answer any questions today."

"There's no way you actually thought that," Shawn shot back as he sauntered past him into the room. It was very important that Lassiter knew he wasn't worried about anything. Because he wasn't worried about anything. "So how soon until you get fuzzy?"

"As soon as the sun's down, so you'd better ask fast."

The door closed, sending a rush of thrill through Shawn's body. The last time they'd been alone in this room, Lassiter had tried to kill him. And that had just been in his human form… It was quite exciting. Shawn shook his head; he couldn't get distracted. He had a question to ask.

But it wasn't exactly a question he could ask directly…

"Do werewolves consummate their marriages?"

Or maybe he could.

Lassiter's jaw dropped and Shawn fought to not fidget under his gaze. He had a reputation to uphold, and it was one of a person who never second guessed himself. Which he totally wasn't doing. "Look, it's not that I'm not open minded, but I did have some expectations… standards, we'll call them. I have standards, you have standards, and it'd be a shame if, after tonight, one of us was left …standard-less?"

That had sounded better in his head.

Lassiter continued to stare, his mouth still open. Shawn found himself distracted by the shadow stretching across the hollow divot of his neck, how soft his lips looked, his teeth… Was it just his imagination, or were the teeth getting sharper?

"No…" Lassiter finally answered. "No, no, and, let me think… No."

"Right. Good," Shawn said in a tone that hopefully sounded lighthearted as relief rushed through him. Sharing a bed with a wolf hadn't really been the adventure he'd been looking for. "So… What do werewolves do after getting married?"

"Traditionally, they hunt together…" Lassiter gave him an unimpressed look. "I guess we'll have to break tradition. It wouldn't be the first time."

A scoff burst through Shawn's lips before he could stop it. Of course Lassiter would still be underestimating him. His nerves settled as he strode forward, not stopping until he was nearly touching Lassiter's bare chest while staring him down. "Do you really think I only know how to use a knife?"

He reached around without looking, finding Lassiter's bow and holding it up.

Lassiter narrowed his eyes at the challenge, as something sharp scraped against Shawn's mind. "You can shoot?"

"When I have to."

"Prove it."

Shawn took the offered bowstring and smirked as he placed it in the first notch. His father had trained him on every weapon there was. Lassiter wasn't the only one who was allowed to be impressive. He placed the end on the ground and pulled the bow into a bend. A grunt left his lips as the piece of wood barely moved.

Lassiter snorted in amusement and Shawn set his jaw; he was not going to be shown up on his own wedding day. He braced the end of the bow against his foot and pulled with all of his strength, bending it into a curve as he finally managed to slip the string into the second notch.

How heavy of a draw was this thing? Shawn fell into a shooting stance and raised the bow up, bracing himself before drawing the string back with all of his might. His muscles burned, and the sharp feeling in his mind traveled down, scraping over his taut shoulders and running under his clothes before pooling into a warmth in his belly. He couldn't help but be impressed by the fact that Lassiter had used the weapon even while Weakened.

Though, Lassiter had gone hunting today, and the bow had stayed unstrung… Shawn eased the string back to its starting position. He'd seen the signs of the Weakness in the past few days, from the way the werewolves sluggishly moved, to the empty food stores, to the bandage on Lassiter's arm that was still leaking blood. It was hard to believe that they'd make a full recovery by the second night.

It was hard to believe that they still thought he'd be the one to cure them completely.

The room darkened, and Lassiter's voice sounded husky when he said, "I guess we don't have time to see if you can actually aim the thing."

"I know how to take a shot." He met Lassiter's eyes, the flickering torchlight playing across his face where there was definitely more hair than there'd been a few minutes ago. "I don't miss very often."

Lasitter growled, the sound deep enough to rumble in Shawn's chest. His pulse quickened as the blue in Lassiter's eyes grew larger, chasing the white away. Gods he was sexy.

"You might want to leave," Lasitter warned in a deep voice.

"I don't want to leave." Shawn gestured to himself, drawing attention to his fancy clothes. "You've already seen me in my wedding outfit; I want to see yours."

"Fine. It's your nightmares." Lassiter gave him a toothy grin. And the grin kept growing, stretching back towards his ears, splitting his face in two. Shawn had just enough time to see the front teeth lengthen and sharpen before Lassiter threw his head back with a guttural grunt, his arms spasming and locking up. The bones in his chest swelled, pressing against the skin and pulling it tight. Angry red lines cracked under the chest hair as the skin stretched too far and gave way.

There was a loud crack, and Lassiter's shoulders and hips snapped forward, like they were breaking in two, sending him falling to his hands and feet. His fingers clawed the ground as he barked out a pained yell. Spinal bumps protruded along his back, his neck lengthened with a series of pops, and his remaining clothes pooled at his feet as they were pushed away by a growing furless tail.

Shawn couldn't look away from the sight, his heart pounding in his throat as a feral song bit at his mind. This wasn't like any magic he'd ever felt before.

There was a loud crunch, and Lassiter's back legs were suddenly shorter and better poised to hold his new frame. His nails grew dark and bit into the floor while his skin split and melted over his knuckles. Lassiter let out a strained whimper as his hands warped with the skin, stretching back and up until he was balancing on the front of his palms. Goosebumps rushed across his body and fur followed behind.

How could anyone survive this and stay sane? Shawn heard the sounds of bones grinding together and studied Lassiter's face in concern. It was hidden in the shadows, but he could see that the ears had moved to the top of his head, and he was panting quietly, his tongue hanging out of his new snout. The rest of the disturbing noises finally ended as Lasitter's hairline met the remains of his beard, covering his face with dark fur.

Shawn stared at the wolf, and the wolf stared back.

He still had blue eyes. It was the first thing Shawn noticed as they practically glowed through the surrounding fur that was so dark it was almost black. The very thick and soft-looking fur… Lassiter growled, showing his large white teeth as the feral song dug its claws behind Shawn's eyes. He quickly pulled his hand back and the magic released its hold, returning to a background hum. "Right. No touching."

Lassiter shook his head with a snort before lowering himself into a stretch, watching Shawn warily the whole time.

He was bigger than any wolf Shawn had seen, with his shoulders coming up past Shawn's hip. Though, granted, he'd only seen a few in his life, and all of them at a distance. It hadn't prepared him for this. "Are you alright?"

Lassiter slowly straightened back up, his eyes never straying as he studied Shawn. Could he understand him?

A quiet woof edged with a growl answered the question, and the magic brushed by his mind. Lassiter was fine; he'd dealt with it for years. Shawn shook his head at the strange feeling. That was going to take some getting used to… Lassiter growled a warning and Shawn held his hand up in the universal peace sign. "I told you I can't always control it. It's your magic this time, not mine."

Lassiter's head rose as his ears perked up. He sniffed the air between them and his tail began a gentle sway. A sway echoed by the song; no other magic user had been able to sense it before.

"I still don't know how to cure it," Shawn warned.

Lassiter snorted, dismissing the argument. He gave himself one last shake before padding to the door and looking back.

Shawn huffed a laugh and followed, "All right, I'm coming." A growl stopped him in his tracks. "What? You can't exactly do the ceremony without me there…"

Lassiter stared at him for a second before moving his snout in a small circle while looking up. On a human, the look couldn't have been anything other than an eye roll. He walked back into the room and pointed emphatically at his quiver with his nose.

Shawn looked down at the strung bow in his hand that he'd completely forgotten about. "Oh. Right." He picked up the quiver and slung it over his shoulder. "There. Better?"

He looked over and his breath caught in his throat. Lassiter hadn't moved, but something had changed as he stared with his unnerving eyes. A quiet howl echoed in Shawn's ears; there was beauty in the look. The wild beauty of a beast that could crush his bones without even trying. For the first time in his life, Shawn found himself unable to speak as the howl grew between them. It spoke to something inside of him, something feral and free.

The urge to reach out, to understand, to See became overwhelming. But a warning growl stopped him before he could begin as Lassiter bared his teeth at him.

"You started it," was all Shawn could say in a breathless whisper.

It broke the spell, and Lassiter snorted in annoyance before stalking to the door without looking back. Shawn stared after him for a good few seconds as his mind grew quieter again. He was marrying that man.

For the first time that day, his stomach didn't lurch at the thought.

Chapter Text

It always felt better, being a wolf. Like coming back home when he hadn't even realized he'd been away.

Lassiter trotted down the stairs, the pains of the transformation being eclipsed by the stability of being on four paws, the strength of the muscles shifting over his shoulders, and the reassuring sharpness of his fangs against his tongue. The weight of the Weakness still pulled at his bones, but the joy of being as he should be kept his movements light. A wild feral song grew in the back of his mind as he reached the great hall.

The pack filled the room, individual wolves playing together, stretching, or sniffing their neighbor. Buzz trotted cheerfully through the crowd, his head still well above all of the others as he greeted his packmates. Dobson was nearly invisible in the corner, his black fur blending into the dark shadows. Lassiter breathed in the musky scent of the pack, sensing the emotions and information contained within. A faint sweet metallic scent snuck behind him, joining the citrus that sparkled.  His ears twitched back, keeping track of the human's conversation.

"Shawn, I have been very calm throughout all of this, but right now… I am two seconds from snapping and never speaking to you again!"

"I don't know what to tell you… you knew they were werewolves…"

"I didn't think I'd have to watch five of them turn in front of me! Their bones were doing things that bones aren't supposed to do."

"Hmm… Bet it would be cool in a story though."

"...I hate you."

"Love you too."

Lassiter flicked his ears forward again, ignoring them and tuning into the yips and howls of his family. The chief prowled around the room, her pale golden fur flickering in the torchlight. She met his eyes and the feral song raced between them, instincts tying them together, the connection reaching back for hundreds of generations. Lassiter lifted his head slightly in respect before another wolf bowled into him.

Juliet was lucky that he'd smelled her coming; he wouldn't have pulled his bites for any other wolf, packmate or not. She pranced around him, her gray and white fur dancing with the movement. He growled at her, already knowing what to expect. She nipped at him playfully before pouncing, sending both of them to the floor.

She fought well, he'd give her that, her paws pinwheeling against his stomach, her teeth scraping his skin as she bit at his scruff. Lassiter growled, nipping her back and letting the fight last another minute before finally using his larger size to pin her to the ground. She barked in his face, her tongue lolling out of the side of her snout as she wiggled around to show her stomach.

He'd never admit he enjoyed their mock fights; he had a reputation to hold. He grumbled as he let her up, letting her know that her playfulness wasn't amusing. She naturally ignored him and licked his snout. He could feel his tail gently swaying behind him, betraying his actual emotions.

"Awwww…." a quiet voice cooed.

Lassiter's tail stilled as he looked back and growled.

"No, you can't pretend like that didn't just happen," his betrothed told him, his smell sweetening in satisfaction.

Gus' smell showed the absolute opposite emotion as he hissed, "We are surrounded by claws and teeth, for once in your life will you please Be Quiet."

"In all of the time you've known me, what could possibly make you think that I could–"

Juliet cut off the conversation by rearing up and bracing her front paws against Shawn's shoulders. He froze as she sniffed him over.

Shawn was different now too. Lassiter knew that the dark vest and open collar had awakened a hunger in him in his human form, but now it was the other senses that he noticed more. The tangy scent of human overlayed with sweet citrus that combined with the smells from his clean clothes, the leather of the quiver, the dirt under his fingernails, and a scent that reminded him of the wind racing by as he ran. When his human spoke, he heard all of the overtones in his voice that were normally hidden, like the difference between the jingling of a dinner bell and the peals of a church bell.

He blinked and refocused on the scene in front of him before noticing something more worrying. His tail had started to wag again.

He stilled the traitorous appendage as Juliet let out a low growl. The warning was easy to understand, even without the growing smell of magic.

"I'm not going to hurt him," Shawn answered, sounding more serious than Lassiter had ever heard before.

Lassiter growled in answer; he didn't need to be protected. Naturally, Juliet ignored him as she sniffed at Shawn, craning her neck up as high as it could reach. Her body stilled as she deliberated, even the paws on Shawn's shoulders staying stationary as he held his breath. The moment was broken when she sneezed all over his face.

"Ugh," Shawn cried out as he backed up, dropping Juliet back down to all fours. He frantically wiped at his face as Juliet let out a happy bark with her tail wagging. "Glad I could earn your seal of approval at least…"

Juliet's ears perked up as her tail wagged faster. She suddenly turned and tackled Lassiter again, reminding him that she did as she liked and didn't need him telling her what to do. A loud bark broke off their fight and they both rolled to their paws at the sound of their Chief calling to them.

Vick stood in the large open doorway; a golden beacon of strength surrounded by the darkness of the night. Her bright eyes scanned the room, accounting for each of her pack. Her gaze seemed to linger on Lassiter as the feral song softened with reassurances and hope. Lassiter didn't look away. He's made his choice; he wasn't going to back away now.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to back away now.

The Chief's ears perked up in approval before she turned her snout to look off to the side. Several other wolf heads turned to follow her gaze as a scarred and burnt wolf limped out of the dungeon's doorway. Their pack was still whole.

Lassiter looked back at the humans that were watching with varying levels of wonder. Their pack was about to grow.

Vick let out a loud yip and trotted into the darkness, leading them into the forest.

"I thought this was supposed to be a wedding, not a hike through the woods…"

"I know you're curious, Gus. You don't have to hide it from me."

"I'm not hiding it. There's nothing to be curious about; I can barely see in front of my face."

A third voice joined them. "Did you know that wolves actually have excellent night vision? Especially when the moon is full!"

"Well I'm not a wolf!"

Lassiter grumbled as he was forced to listen to the human's asinine conversation. Woody wasn't wrong, he could see the forest clearly. But if the humans were actually that blind, then he never should have trusted Shawn with his bow…

"Don't worry, Lassie," Shawn whispered in consolation. "Gus is just being dramatic. I can see fine."

"I am not being dramatic. You just have eyes like a wolf."

"I'd like to think they're more like an eagle… Besides, you're one to complain. You have the nose of a wolf."

"I want something too!" Woody excitedly jumped in. "I have…" he thought for a moment before puffing out his chest and continuing in a dramatic low voice, "the heart of a wolf."

Lassiter growled and trotted faster to get away from them. Unfortunately, the walk to the ceremonial spot was taking longer than normal since they had to travel at the same pace as their slowest packmate. It left far too much time for the humans to fill with their idiocy.

It left far too much time to second guess himself.

Why did he want to do this again? After all of the hurt of last time. Sure, Shawn had magic that could help the pack, and he wasn't terrible looking, and he'd killed someone without blinking, and he'd been so confident when drawing the bow, and he was strangely smart and brave and dangerous…

"For the record, I didn't know there'd be hunting involved. I swear upon my father's grave that I won't not get blood on your outfit."

"What do you mean, 'won't not', it's one or the other. And your father's still alive."

"And?"

And Shawn was an idiot. Why did he want to do this?

Juliet saved him from his thoughts as she bumped their shoulders together. He huffed at her, knowing she'd understand his frustration. Why couldn't it just be simple? She kept him company, her quiet companionship offering a welcome distraction from all of the noise and confusion behind him.

Their wolf bodies were stronger than their human ones, but the Weakness was still infecting them. Lassiter was panting heavily by the time he smelled the dark earthy scent that signaled their journey was almost done. The large trees around them started to thin as green stems with hanging purple flowers started to show up among scraggly patches of grass.

"Careful of those pretty little things," Woody whispered as the pack tightened up to plod along a faint game trail. "Even just touching them can make your hand numb. There was one time after my wife left that I–"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Gus begged, much to Lassiter's relief.

The poisonous flowers grew thicker around them until the forest opened up into a large grassy meadow. The feral song grew, changing to a welcoming howl as a nonexistent breeze ruffled through Lassiter's fur. The Spirits were welcoming them home.

Lassiter stepped into the clearing and looked up, giving acknowledgement to the past packmates who now ran in the endless sky. The moon shone down, framed by the proud trees that surrounded them. It had called out the inner wolf of every packmate there was and every packmate there would be; it was part of them. Lassiter gave it his thanks before looking back to the physical world.

Grass spread out before him, a soft blanket sprinkled with white and pink flowers. A perimeter of dangerous purple flowers kept them from being disturbed. Lassiter relaxed, breathing in the air that was thick with ancient magic. He belonged here; he was safe here.

He took another step and had to fight the urge to curl up and sleep for days in the surrounding safety. He was still Weak here.

Shawn's low impressed whistle snapped Lassiter back to full awareness. "Good news, I don't think we're going to have to worry about being able to see what's going on."

"What are you talking about?" Gus asked, his question punctuated by flailing arms as he tripped over a root.

"What, you don't see it?"

"Would I be asking if I could see it?!"

"This place is lit up like the village on Bonfire Night."

"Fascinating." Woody peered at Shawn like he could see through his skin and study the organs within. "You must be Seeing the magic. The werewolves say this is a protected place, no creature of the forest can be harmed here."

"Huh." Shawn looked around, the smell of magic swirling around him.

The sharp tone in Gus' voice softened as he asked curiously, "What does it look like?"

"You remember when those dogs were fighting, and we thought they were going to kill each other? But then your uncle started playing his bladder pipes, and they just… stopped. Literally in the middle of trying to bite each other's throats, just frozen in place."

Shawn sounded almost like he was dreaming as he stared around the meadow. Lassiter couldn't look away, just as curious as the humans as to what he would say next.

"He played for almost an hour," Gus added on. "The dogs sat down and listened to the whole thing."

"And then they never fought again," Shawn waved his hands through the air, like he was trying to touch something that only he could see. "It's like that… but with lights."

"That… doesn't make any sense."

"It's the best I can do." Shawn shrugged and dropped his hands back to his side. "It's magic; the words don't want to word."

Lassiter continued to study him. No one had ever seen the wild magic before. His heart beat faster in his chest as his ears perked up on their own. This might actually work.

Shawn met his eyes and a silence fell around them as the pack moved towards the center of the meadow. It was the last chance for either of them to back out. He had a duty to the pack, but was that all this was?

A strange sour smell eclipsed the floral scent of the meadow. He wasn't the only one having second thoughts. Shawn didn't show his apprehension though as he jerked his head towards the other werewolves and asked, "Shall we?"

His emotions didn't matter; the pack was more important. He could figure the rest out later. Lassiter huffed out a quiet bark in agreement before leading the way. A large circle of white flowers glowed in the moonlight, their heads lowered towards the ground like wedding bells. Lassiter stepped carefully into the ring, making sure to not crush any of the delicate blooms.

"These aren't going to kill me if I touch them, right?" Shawn asked as he followed Lassiter's lead.

Part of Lassiter didn't want to answer, just to make the human squirm. But his hope had grown too strong and was making him soft. He answered with a faint sneeze and head shake. The meadow was safe.

The wolves spread out in a loose circle around them, the humans just outside. A howl pulled everyone's attention as the ceremony started. Vick kept her snout towards the moon for another moment as the lonely sound died down. The ceremonies held in this field were for the whole pack, not just the ones still living.

Lassiter felt the Spirit's magic rise up to meet them. It was in the pull in his chest, in the rustling of the leaves overhead, in the dark smell of the purple flowers, in the glow of the moon. Vick walked around the circle, looking at each member of the pack as she let out quiet barks, acknowledging the individuals in the collective. The song followed her, growing and building on itself as the bonds between them were strengthened. Her path brought her back to her starting point and she turned inwards, towards the last packmate to be acknowledged and the human who wished to join them.

She let out a quiet growl as she approached them, and Shawn knelt to be at their eye height. He wasn't like a wolf, with his dull teeth and clever hands. But he wasn't like the humans either. He saw too much, knew too much. He was different. The werewolves were different too.

Vick laid a paw on Shawn's shoulder, locking eyes with him as the smell of magic grew. She growled lightly, and Shawn bared his throat, awaiting her judgment.

New members could strengthen the pack, but they could also weaken it. She had final say on whether they'd accept him. She growled her approval and removed her paw, stepping away. The pack had accepted him.

But would he accept the pack?

Lassiter moved fast, tackling Shawn the rest of the way to the ground. His lips pulled away from his teeth as he lunged towards the exposed throat. He stopped himself right before he would have broken skin as something sharp pricked him right under his eye. A knife that had stopped just a second before blinding him.

The chief had said she'd told Shawn to expect a test of trust. But no other human had ever decided to test the wolf's trust back.

Shawn's eyes flickered with something reckless and feral. He bared his throat further, pressing his skin against Lassiter's teeth. His pulse pounded against Lassiter's lips, and Lassiter didn't even have to think as he answered the challenge, shifting his head slightly to make his eye an easier target.

The feral song reached out between them, singing of their history and strength. A new song rose up to meet it, the smell of sparkles swelling around them, crackling like fire and clear as silver. The urge to reach out, to meet it, to bring it into the pack became overwhelming.

The song suddenly retreated as Shawn pulled away his knife. His pulse raced even faster under Lassiter's teeth.

Feeling slightly off balance, Lassiter followed his lead, covering his teeth and stepping off of him. Shawn propped himself up on his elbow as their eyes locked. They were Bound. Lassiter huffed out a quiet bark, meeting his new mate as an equal.

A sound began to rise up around them, a howl laced with the song of the Spirits. New voices joined it, each packmate raising their heads high and welcoming the newest member in their midst.

Lassiter stared at his new mate for another second before joining in, the howl vibrating in his chest, filling his whole body and growing until it was able to release through his mouth. He howled for what he'd lost in the past. He howled for the hope of the future. He howled for the human laying next to him.

A new voice joined, weaker and different than the rest. It was easy to miss, nearly lost among the louder voices, but it added something that wasn't there before. Lassiter looked over to see his human throwing his head back, adding his uniqueness to the song. Shawn met his eyes and a strange joy had Lassiter wagging his tail before joining in on the howl again.

The pack had become stronger.

Chapter Text

The forest was alive at night. Rabbits slept in their burrows, one ear still listening for threats. A skunk dug at an ant hill, looking for its nightly meal. Leaves overhead rustled as trees stretched their branches. A small floating wisp flared a rainbow of color before turning invisible. The air hummed with the sounds of insects.

Magic tendrils of light connected them all, pulsing with life. And Shawn could See it all.

It was common knowledge that the forest was dangerous during the full moon. The werewolves weren't the only magical creatures who came out to play. Even Shawn's father had refused to camp on the road under the full moon when they were running from their first village. A suspicious innkeep was better than a hungry demon bear.

But hiding from danger had meant they never got to see the magic of the night. Shawn stretched his senses to their limits, taking in as much as he could as the feral song howled in his mind.

A quiet growl brought him back to the present, and he reluctantly pulled his focus back before he could read Lassiter's thoughts. His husband's thoughts.

It still felt so surreal. The fact that his husband was currently a wolf certainly wasn't helping.

"Don't get angry at me for doing what you asked. Three dire deer over that way" –Shawn pointed off to the left– "but one of them's pregnant."

Lassiter sniffed the air before turning to the right, leading them away. Shawn grinned as he followed; his husband was such a softy. Lassiter grumbled as he saw the expression. It had nothing to do with being soft; the wolves needed their food supply to keep reproducing.

"Sure. And that's why you're not asking me exactly which one is pregnant so you can kill one of the other ones," Shawn cheerfully pointed out.

Lassiter huffed a quiet sigh. It didn't matter; the deer would have heard them coming from a mile away with how much Shawn was talking.

"You love it; don't lie."

Lassiter stopped and glared at him. His eyes never left Shawn's as he lifted his leg and marked his territory, telling exactly how he felt about the constant chatter.

He definitely loved it.

"That's gross," Shawn informed his urinating husband. He very generously didn't point out how Lassiter had been finding excuses to take breaks ever since they separated from the pack. The Weakness only seemed to be getting worse as the night went on.

He pushed the unsettling thought from his mind and looked around as the sound of liquid hitting the ground tapered off. The thought kept fighting him, gnawing at his mind and sinking into his stomach. He pushed it down harder, letting a burst of excitement cover it up when he saw a peek of red shining in the moonlight. Gus had put up with a lot from him in the last few weeks; it was time to pay him back. At least a little.

An annoyed growl tried to stop him as he knelt down and started picking the wild strawberries. Shawn ignored it as he continued to fill his pockets. "Technically, this still counts as hunting for food. And they're not for me, which I guess negates that 'technically', but they're still for a member of the pack, so the 'technically' still stands."

The expected growl or bark didn't come, and the gnawing feeling in Shawn's stomach spiked with nerves. Had Lassiter already realized he'd made a mistake and left? Almost no one could handle Shawn for an extended amount of time without leaving or trying to fix him.

A warm breath blew across his ear, and Shawn jumped as he found himself nose to nose with a wolf. His wolf.

Lassiter's nose was cold as he moved in even closer and sniffed at him. Shawn covered up his momentary lapse of emotions with a large grin. "Trust me; you've seen Gus' regular angry, not his real angry. He needs sweets to soothe the savage beast."

Lassiter let out a huffed bark, the sound so low that it was more of a rumble in Shawn's chest than something he heard. The feral song grew, singing of packs and belonging.

Shawn finished picking the last berry and stood up. "Sorry, but if I'm part of the pack then he is too. That's just how it goes."

The magic didn't need to translate Lassiter's small head tilt for Shawn to hear the question. He certainly wasn't the first to ask it.

"It's one of the mysteries of the universe. I mean, look at us. Gus is clearly too good for me. But our crazies fit together… We just work." Shawn shrugged, ignoring the fear that was trying to overtake him again. Someday Gus might get tired of them working. Or one of Shawn's ideas would finally be too dangerous and would chase him away.

Why did he keep worrying about people leaving? He didn't worry. He didn't.

He especially didn't worry when he was binding himself to a new family for life. Or when he realized he was using his magic while teeth were literally at his throat. Or when he realized that the binding hadn't broken their curse.

Shawn gave his head an annoyed shake. He was in a magic woods with a magic werewolf finishing up a magic tradition. He was on the adventure of a lifetime. There wasn't room for worry.

Lassiter's ears suddenly perked up and Shawn instinctively Looked. A small flicker of life hopped in the underbrush, magic making its existence sparkle. Shawn quietly nocked an arrow and Lassiter lowered himself to the ground, sneaking forward until bursting into a sprint. The underbrush rattled, Lasiter let out a growled bark, and a strange animal darted out into the open.

Shawn followed his training, using all of his muscles to swing the bow around and release the arrow. The animal let out a pained squeal as it fell to the ground. Its legs continued to kick weakly as Lassiter approached it. He sniffed at the animal before his teeth flashed and it was put out of its misery.

An instinctual fear had Shawn intentionally stepping on several twigs as he slowly approached the wild animal guarding its meal. Lassiter's ears twitched towards him even as the rest of him stayed silent and panting. A pale beam of moonlight showed them their bounty, a snow white rabbit with small antlers on its head. A faint gleam from its still open mouth showed the very un-rabbit-like fangs.

Lassiter nudged the arrow that was still sticking out of the rabbit's side with a small growl, and Shawn braced himself to feel reproach for the sloppy shot. But instead the feral song howled victoriously for the successful hunt and kill.

Shawn stared in shock and Lassiter stared back, the emotions in his bright eyes so different from what Shawn had expected. Lassiter let out a quiet growl and took an intentional step back. The shot had been made in the dark, with an unfamiliar weapon, at a moving small target. Shawn deserved first right to the kill.

What was he even supposed to say to that? "No offense, but I'm not eating that without cooking it first."

Lassiter sneezed in annoyance before turning his back to the carcass and loping off. It took several moments for Shawn to snap himself out of his stupor. Gus had been kind enough to shove a bag at him before the hunt, claiming he was trying to protect his nice clothes. He was always taking care of things that Shawn had forgotten to think about.

Shawn was grateful for it now as he used his knife to cut out the arrow before sliding the dead jackrabbit into the pouch. It would have been pretty awkward to just be carrying it for the rest of the night.

They walked for another fifteen minutes before Lassiter's ears perked forward and his hackles rose. Shawn tried to feel out but didn't sense anything as a growl rumbled out of Lassiter's mouth. There were humans in their woods. Humans weren't allowed in their territory.

Lassiter stalked forward and Shawn drew an arrow before silently following him. Either they were villagers and he could try to save their lives… or they weren't. In which case they needed to know what was going on.

It didn't take long to find the small band of humans. They weren't villagers.

Worse, they were humans Shawn had seen before. Lassiter clearly also recognized the would-be-raiders, judging by the way all of his teeth were showing.

"There's more of them than us," Shawn whispered, finding himself in the odd position of being the voice of reason.

It didn't seem like the raiders had lost any more members as over a dozen of them picked their way through the woods. Shawn didn't even have to Look to recoil away from the leader. Large black lines slashed across his face, like a bear had ravaged him and magic had been leaked into the wounds.

Luckily, Lassiter listened and stayed by Shawn's side. They both crouched behind a fallen tree to stay out of view.

The leader had gained a large blade since the last time they'd seen him. He slashed it around, cutting away any small trees and plants that were in his way. His voice carried as he loudly complained, "I swear, it's like he sent us on a wild goose chase on purpose. 'Head east from the castle. Find the purple flowers…' How are we supposed to find anything based on that?!"

Lassiter's ears pinned back as he snarled. He would kill every last one of them.

Shawn sent up a prayer to whoever was listening and reached out to rest his hand on Lassiter's shoulder. Lassiter whipped his head around, his teeth lunging forward. Shawn didn't move; he knew he wasn't going to get bit.

Well, he mostly knew it.

No pain followed, and Shawn moved his hand slowly in a soothing pet. Lassiter let out another snarl, but it was easy to feel his desperation under the anger. The pack was in danger.

"I know. We need to know why. Which means not letting them know we're here." Lassiter's lips immediately covered his teeth as he blinked in astonishment. Shawn rolled his eyes and went back to watching the raiders. "I can be quiet, you know. I just usually choose not to."

One thing was for certain, they definitely weren't going to be fighting out of this one. Shawn put the drawn arrow away before ducking his head under the curve of the bow to hang it off of his shoulder. Lassiter grumbled next to him, clearly annoyed at the disrespect to his weapon.

"Really?" Shawn jerked his head towards the raiders. "That's what you're going to fixate on right now?"

Lassiter snapped his teeth at him. He was perfectly able to be mad about multiple things at the same time.

Shawn regretfully stopped petting the ridiculously soft fur. "You know, I think you and Gus would get along great if he wasn't too scared to talk to you…"

Lassiter huffed before giving himself a quick shake. It was smart to fear what could kill you.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "And I rest my case…"

He didn't wait for Lassiter's answer as he crept forward. He could barely hear the bad guys; he was definitely too far away to use his gift on them.

The leader finished another rant with a wide sweep of his blade. A burly raider tapped a club against his free hand and grumbled, "I say next time a magic user tries to hire us, we just bash in his head and take whatever's on him…"

"Hold your tongue!" the leader snapped out. "Do you want to get us killed?"

"This has been bad from the start and you know it," Burly answered back.

"What I know is that we're still getting paid the same, but only have half the crew to split it with. That doesn't do us any good if we're dead."

Shawn was finally close enough. He focused and Looked as Burly kept trying to make his case.

The leader was afraid. Deathly afraid. Black tendrils corrupted him from the inside out; a leash that could be yanked on at any time. Magnus hadn't accepted their defeat lightly. Phantom aches ran across his shoulders from where the painful magic had entered him. People like that didn't give third chances.

They had to find that clearing. It was the only time the werewolves were vulnerable. And Magnus had said that whichever beast was being bonded would be hunting on their own. They had snares, they had ropes, they had numbers. They just needed to catch one werewolf before Magnus was done in the village…

Blazing Magic seared through Shawn's Sight, whiting everything else out with an agonizing inferno. It stabbed inwards, piercing him through the core as the pain blazed. His knees buckled and a scream lodged itself in his throat. The pain grew, tearing him apart, boring a hole through his soul. It spread, wider and wider, pushing him away. Making room for something else. Someone else.

A warm body pressed into his side and a song wrapped around his mind, keeping him together. Shawn gasped for breath as the pain was pushed back. The weight leaned into him harder and he clutched at the dirt under his hands; anything to ground him further.

A loud voice rang through the trees, and the painful magic pulsed in time with its words. "Why aren't you at the clearing yet?"

The werewolf magic kept the blazing brightness at bay, but it still raged at the edges of Shawn's mind. A low sound vibrated in his chest, and he reached out blindly to tangle his fingers in Lassiter's fur.

The burly man's voice answered, "We- We've been trying. We followed your instructions to the letter, but there was nothing there."

Burly cried out, and Shawn forced his eyes open. The marks across the leader's face were blazing white, and his hand was outstretched in a magical sign towards the man crumpled at his feet. "Why must I do everything myself? I have given you everything you need, and you fail me not once but twice. I have plans greater than any of you could ever hope to imagine. You should count your blessings that this new magic user is only a seer… The fact that the werewolves think he even has a chance to break the curse speaks to their desperation. Which gives you more time to earn back your right to live."

The forest pulsed with power, an inherent wrongness that grabbed at Shawn's being and pulled it back. Like a butcher peeling back bones to find the best cuts of meat. Lassiter shuddered under Shawn's hand; he felt it too.

"The Spirits moved it," the wizard snarled through the leader's body. "But that's of no concern now. Your prey is closer than you realize." The leader's hand swung around without him looking, pointing in Shawn and Lassiter's direction. "There. The human and his dog. I will double your pay if you bring them both alive."

Fear washed over Shawn like a bucket of cold water. They needed to go. They needed to go right now.

He tightened his grip on Lassiter's fur, pulling back gently to prompt him to move. Lassiter didn't listen, instead stepping forward to put himself between Shawn and the raiders. Drool dripped from his fangs as he flattened his ears and prepared for a fight.

They wouldn't survive a fight.

The pressure on his mind suddenly released as the leader collapsed, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Shawn rode out the disorienting dizziness even as he pulled back on Lassiter again. "You're still Weak and I can't see straight. We need to go."

The raiders crowded around their leader, buying them more time. But Lassiter still wasn't listening. Shawn pulled out the last play he had. "This isn't about you; it's about the pack. They need to be warned, and I can't try to cure the curse if I'm tied up in some wizard's dungeon."

Lassiter's lips pulled back further in a silent snarl, but he finally, finally, started to move backwards. Shawn winced at the sharp notes that dug their claws into his still-aching head. Shawn was part of the pack, but they still weren't cured.

The familiar fear lodged itself in his gut, but there wasn't time for that right now. They were moving too slow; the raiders would catch them any minute at this rate. Shawn's mind raced as he looked for a way out. They couldn't make it back to the keep, neither of them could run that long. They couldn't stay where they were, it was too out in the open. They needed somewhere to hide.

Shawn pulled at Lassiter again; they had to go faster. "Where can we hide?"

Lassiter shook his head and finally turned away from the raiders. He wouldn't hide like prey.

Of all of the unbelievably stubborn things to be stubborn about… "If we don't hide like prey then we die like prey. You know your territory like the back of your paw; where can we hide?"

Lassiter growled and Shawn gave up being nice as he Looked for the answer. There was a small hidden cave nearby, but Lassiter wouldn't hide while the pack was in danger. They were Weak and vulnerable, and he'd rather die than let the raiders continue towards the keep… And he smelled Shawn's magic, and how dare he?!

Shawn bared his teeth back. "You can rip my throat out when we get to the cave. If you want to let Magnus win, then stay here. I'm sure that'd be great for the pack."

Shawn stayed low and started jogging away, keeping an eye on where he placed his feet. It wouldn't take long for them to see him; he just had to get far enough–

"Look, over there!"

That was his cue. Shawn burst into a sprint, zig zagging through the trees. The ground tilted under his feet as his head pounded. At least if they were chasing him, then maybe Lassiter would be left alone…

Something hit him from the side, knocking him to the ground. A dull thunk sounded out above his head, and Shawn took in Lassiter, the crossbow bolt sticking out of a tree, and the pounding sound of approaching feet. Lassiter barked in his face, and Shawn shook off his stupor as he scrambled back to a run. That had been too close.

"He said alive, idiot!"

I was aiming for his shoulder!"

They kept running, branches scraping Shawn's arms as roots reached up to snag his feet. He used every training his father had ever taught him to survive being hunted. Don't run in a straight line, keep fast and low, watch the environment.

Now he just had to live long enough to never tell his father that the training had been useful.

Lassiter stumbled and fell, crashing hard into the dirt before rolling back to his paws. His mouth was wide open in a heavy pant as he kept pace. A circle of rope flew by Shawn's ear, the yells of the raiders grew closer, Shawn's chest burned.

They couldn't keep this up. A small hill gave Shawn an idea, and he forced his legs to move faster as he gasped out, "Follow me."

Lassiter changed course with him, and they veered right over the hill. As soon as they were out of sight from the raiders, Shawn abruptly stopped and grabbed a handful of arrows. He tossed them to the ground further to the right before running left, ducking down and hiding behind a bush. Lassiter collapsed to the ground behind him, and they both held their breaths as the raiders crested the hill.

"Where did they go?" Burly snarled, swinging his club like he could knock the answer out of thin air.

The leader leaned on a tree and caught his breath as he glanced around. His eyes lit on the arrows and he pointed at them with a grin. "Looks like they took another tumble. This way, boys."

The raiders jogged off, and Shawn fell to the ground in relief. Only the sounds of their panting breaths could be heard as he rested his aching head against his hands. His body trembled in exhaustion, but when he looked up, he could see Lassiter was faring even worse.

The Weakness had Lassiter in its grip. He layed where he'd fallen, on his side with his nose in a pile of dead leaves. His chest heaved for breath as he stared unseeing with glassy eyes. It was impossible to tell if he'd even be able to walk after this. Running any more was out of the question.

But the raiders wouldn't be fooled for long. Especially if the wizard took over again. They had to find the cave. Shawn closed his eyes and visualized where Lassiter had thought about. It wasn't far.

"I don't know if you can hear me," Shawn whispered. Lassiter's ear flicked back and Shawn sighed in relief. "Oh, good. Because this would have been awkward otherwise. I'm going to try to carry you."

Lassiter came further back to life as his next gasped exhale was tinged with a growl.

"Well, you certainly don't look like you'll be walking there on your–"

Lassiter's legs kicked, his body rolling several times before he built up enough momentum to roll to his paws. He panted for several seconds before limping forward a step. The glare he sent towards Shawn was nothing but triumphant.

Something pulled inside Shawn's chest, making him grin like a maniac. "I think that might be the sexiest thing I've ever seen, you stubborn son of a bitch."

Lassiter walked off without answering. But he didn't need to. The slight sway in his tail told Shawn everything he needed to know.

Five minutes later, Shawn found himself crawling on his elbows to squeeze through a small crevice that hid the cave. They'd just started to hear the raiders again when they'd reached their destination. Even knowing what to look for, Shawn had nearly missed the opening. It was about as perfect of a hiding place as he could have asked for.

The rock surrounding him suddenly opened up, and Shawn kept a grounding hand on the wall as he stood up. His head immediately cracked into the rock above him, sending jagged spikes of pain into his soul. Shawn groaned and dropped back down to a squat.

He'd expected a small huff of amusement or a grumble at humans' clumsiness, but there was only silence. Shawn froze and Felt out; praying to any god who was listening. Surely leading him to safety hadn't been Lassiter's last act. A ball of faint feral magic was curled up just a few feet away. Shawn reached out for it, only letting himself breathe once he felt the furry body move under his hand.

Lassiter had finally succumbed to his exhaustion.

Shawn quietly made himself more comfortable and sat back against the wall of the cave. His fingers carded through Lassiter's dirt-crusted fur, slowly returning it back to its natural softness.

He kept watch through the night as his husband slept by his side.

Chapter Text

The first thing Lassiter noticed when he woke up was the earthy smell of the forest. Which seemed wrong, for some reason. Leaves rustled nearby and birds sang overhead. Lassiter's ear twitched and brushed up against fur. The ground swayed under him in a steady rhythm.

The last one finally gave him the motivation to open his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a jawline covered in stubble. And it was less than an inch away from his snout.

"Oh hey, look who finally decided to wake up."

Lassiter blinked before rearing back, finally understanding what was happening. He was being carried. Across a human's shoulders. Like a hunter's trophy.

Lassiter thrashed, fighting against the hands holding him in place. He wasn't prey!

"Woah, woah!"

The shoulders dipped and the hands let go, allowing Lassiter to roll to the ground. He scrambled to his paws, strength surging through him as he snarled at the idiotic human. Only the binding stopped him from lunging forward and biting the hands that were being held out in a calming manner.

"Alright, I can see you're upset…" Shawn took a slow step back. "But in my defense, I didn't know how long you were going to be out."

What did that even mean? Lassiter growled, the rumbling in his chest twining with the feral song. Instinct urged him on, the shackles of the Weakness barely existent, telling him to bite and claw and fight. Fragmented memories flashed through his mind. His side hitting the ground, an arrow flying through the air, a loud voice and a wave of wrongness. What had happened?

"I mean, I also didn't think you'd stay wolfy –is that normal?- and getting you out of that cave was bad enough as it was… Sorry about your fur. Blame the rock, not me."

His fur?! The feral instincts telling him to fight were tempered by something more controlled. Pride had him checking both of his sides, but he couldn't see the damage. What did Shawn mean… He looked forward just in time to see Shawn lay a jackrabbit on the ground and step back.

"I know, I'm so sorry that your fur is so magnificent. Hey, look. There's some food!"

Lassiter's stomach grumbled and the smell of meat urged him forward. Maybe he'd be able to think clearer after eating… A hole in the side of the dead creature brought back more memories. An arrow flying through the air, a bow resting across a chest, a hand reaching up to the quiver and throwing a distraction to the side.

His teeth dug into the prey, sinking into the meat with the tangy taste of blood. Delicious. He pulled back, hearing the skin rip as juices filled his mouth. One large snap and the bite separated, the taste of life and magic coating his tongue as he swallowed it down. His strength grew, the feral song howled, and he dove down for another bite.

"So, now that you aren't thinking about killing me anymore… You are supposed to still be a wolf, right? People at the village thought it was just a night thing. You know, with the moon and all."

Lassiter swallowed and huffed at the ignorance of the humans. Just because the sun was in the sky, it didn't mean the moon wasn't still full.

"Huh, I guess that makes sense." The smell of sparkles grew, and Lassiter looked up with a growl. Except Shawn wasn't looking his way. Instead, he was looking around the woods intently. "The raiders gave up looking for us last night; I don't know where they went. Hey, Woody said the Weakness went away after the first full moon. Are you stronger now?"

Raiders? A group of people arguing, weapons being brandished, the pack in danger, magic through the woods, burning in his lungs, muscles collapsing beneath him, a rope skittering off his fur, forcing himself to keep moving... Saving Shawn from being shot, being saved by a clever ploy, being hunted. The night's memories came back all at once, followed by a night's worth of emotions. Admiration, anger, fear, humiliation, determination. It was too much, rippling under his fur, pulling at his chest, clawing behind his eyes. Lassiter snarled, releasing the tension the only way he knew how.

"Woah, easy. Easy." Shawn held a hand up again, the other braced against a tree as though he'd just lost his balance.

Moments through the night were highlighted as Lassiter rode out the disorienting rush. Shawn's eyes locking on the prey before letting the arrow soar. Constant chatter that knew no fear. Shawn choosing to creep closer to danger just so he could know more. A silent collapse of pain and an unhesitating reach for comfort. Shawn's snapped words as his smell twinged of fear. A phrase of admiration that held no undercurrent of deception.

Lassiter's thoughts slowed as he looked at the strange man he'd bound his life to.

Victoria had never used his bow. She'd fought with a short sword when necessary, but her lips had always sneered when he'd suggested training together. She'd been soft spoken with an easy laugh until her words turned sharp as fangs. Curiosity had never been something she'd admired, believing that it caused more harm than good. She'd always pulled away when she was hurting. He'd loved her. He still didn't know when she'd stopped loving him.

A familiar anger rose up to cover all of the other confusing emotions. He knew his priorities –she'd known his priorities. It wasn't going to change now. The raiders last night had been looking for the clearing and had been looking to capture a werewolf. The pack was in danger.

Lassiter sniffed the air, placing the smells of musk, water, and flowers. He knew where they were. And Shawn had been taking them in the wrong direction.

And he was talking again. Naturally.

"...seems like you aren't going to kill me again, which is appreciated. It would be a bad look for you to eat my face less than a day after our wedding. My father would probably find it hilarious though, which will be interesting when you meet him. He's almost as grumpy as you. But we really need to get going; who knows what that wizard guy did at the village last night. We need to see–"

Lassiter cut him off with a bark. Why was he talking about the village when the pack was being hunted?

"Because the guy who's hunting the pack was in the village, and we need to make sure– We need to get more information. Let's go."

Shawn's scent had soured in the middle, a faint twinge of fear. He was choosing the village over the pack. Lassiter barked louder, refusing to move a single step further from the keep.

Shawn spun around and snapped out, "The pack has a castle to keep them safe. The village –my village– has a ditch and a wood wall. That's where Magnus was. That's where my… I'm going. You're not stopping me."

Lassiter's hackles rose as something sickly buried itself in his heart. Shawn had bound himself to the pack. Lassiter had thought he'd understand.

"I know! I know I'm part of the pack. But my father…" Shawn's fists clenched and his weight shifted, making it clear he wasn't taking a step away from the village. "He's overbearing, controlling, and a complete pain in my ass. But no matter how much I hate him… he's my pack too."

And if Magnus had burned down the village, what was Shawn planning on doing now? Meanwhile, the pack still didn't know they were in danger. Lassiter growled in frustration. It was like Shawn had forgotten that his friend was part of his pack too…

Shawn took a deliberate step back, widening the gap between them. "Tell Gus I'll check on his family too."

Then he turned around. And walked away. Just like Victoria had.

Lassiter's paws were rooted to the ground as a mournful howl locked itself in his throat. The human had made his choice. It was time to make his. His lips pulled away from his fangs and he snarled at himself. He'd known better; he shouldn't have let down his guard. He shouldn't have–

"Hey, Lassie." Shawn's voice called out through the trees. "Stay safe. I'll let you know what I find."

The feral song sang notes of comfort and belonging. Lassiter snapped his teeth at it before turning and loping off towards the keep. Emotions didn't matter. Right now, he had a pack to keep safe.

Shawn breathed a sigh of relief when he crested a hill and saw his village whole. While he wasn't emotionally attached to the place, it didn't mean he wanted to see it destroyed. Nearly everyone he knew lived within those walls.

Though, by this point, everyone he knew probably wouldn't want him anywhere near those walls…

An image of Lassiter baring his teeth flashed through Shawn's thoughts. Who knew if he was welcome back at the keep either… But what was he supposed to have done? He was part of the pack; wasn't part of the pack's job to keep the village safe? The logic was flawless.

The village gate came into view and Shawn shook away the thoughts. He could deal with the pack later, and if the worst happened… Well, it wouldn't be the first time someone had left him. He'd been fine every other time.

Shawn pasted on a large grin and approached the guard to the village. His smile grew more genuine as he recognized who it was. Getting back inside wasn't going to be as difficult as he'd thought.

"Hello, Dennis!" Shawn called out as he approached the gate.

The guard's grip on his spear tightened as he answered, "Shawn?"

Dennis had been one of Shawn's first friends when he'd moved to the village. He'd always been on his own, too busy studying ghosts and other mythical creatures to care about his social standing. At least, until Molly's family had moved to the village. They made quite the handsome couple nowadays.

Shawn held his hands up, making it clear he wasn't holding any weapons as he cheerfully answered, "I know, the wolves haven't eaten me yet. Gus is amazed. I thought I'd come by and check on my old man."

"I'm… not supposed to let you in."

It wasn't easy, feeling fear from a friend, but at least Shawn could also feel remorse behind it. Dennis didn't actually want to keep him out. "I'm still me. I've just been living with the werewolves for a while."

"Rumor is that the werewolves wanted you because you have magic." Dennis glanced behind him before asking quieter, "Is that how you knew Molly's favorite food?"

This wasn't getting them anywhere. "I know a wizard was here last night. I need to know what he wanted."

Dennis flinched, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping his spear. "He wanted to know about you. And he scared a lot of people in the process."

Shawn's stomach flipped. He'd guessed that was why Magnus had come here, but he'd really been hoping he was wrong. "My father?"

"No one was hurt." Dennis swallowed nervously before stepping into a defensive stance. "You shouldn't be here."

The rejection cut like a knife; Shawn instinctively Looked for a way to protect himself. Dennis was shaken; he'd thought he'd known Shawn. They'd hunted ghosts together, snuck into the alderman's house, dug for treasure… And now a man was throwing fire around and demanding answers about him. What could Shawn do? What had he hidden? Had anything been true?

"The ghost was a fake," Shawn admitted before he could stop himself. "I snuck back that night to set off the traps; I wanted to freak you and Gus out. The rest was real, though."

Dennis' face drained of its color. "So it's true…"

"I can See things, that's it. You can probably guess why I didn't say anything. I need to get in, Dennis."

Dennis didn't move. "This is as much for your good as theirs."

It was time to bring out the big weapons. "You know me; you know I'm going to get in either way. The only question is if I find Molly and tell her about the demon snare you have hidden next to the well or not…"

"You told me you'd keep that secret!" Dennis hissed, like his wife was right behind him.

Shawn just raised his eyebrows and waited. He already knew he'd won. Dennis would do anything to keep his wife from knowing about his weirder obsessions.

Sure enough, after several long seconds of internal debate, Dennis stepped to the side. "Fine, but make sure no one sees you."

"Thank you," Shawn said sincerely as he passed through the gate.

"Wait!"

Shawn smirked as he felt a wave of curiosity from behind him. "No, I never Saw any ghosts. That was all you and Gus."

"... Oh. I mean, that makes sense. Their magic would be different than what you could see, right?"

Some things would always be the same. Shawn looked back and met Dennis' eyes for a second before agreeing, "Yeah, that would make sense."

Dennis smiled wide, looking just like he had when Shawn had first met him. "I knew it."

Shawn huffed a laugh before moving on, sticking to the shadows as he made his way to his father's house.

Shawn was having rare second thoughts by the time he'd reached his destination and knocked on its door. Everyone at the village was fine; he should have just gone with Lassiter…

His father opened the door, saw who it was, then promptly closed it again.

Typical. Shawn rolled his eyes and knocked again; Henry was so dramatic sometimes…

Henry cracked the door open and glared without a word.

"Really? You're not even going to say 'hi'?"

Henry finally broke his silence. "Why should I? You left without saying goodbye."

"You know, if someone sees me and they drag me to the stocks, it'll be partially your fault," Shawn said, leaning back to look as carefree as possible. "Well, actually, it'd be all your fault, since you're in charge of the guards and all…"

"It's almost like there's a reason I told you to hide your stuff," Henry shot back as he stepped back, letting Shawn into the house. "You shouldn't have come here."

"If you actually meant that, then you wouldn't have posted Dennis, of all people, to the front gate." Shawn strolled in and sprawled on the first chair he could find. The bow that he'd forgotten about caught on the edge of the chair, digging into his back and nearly causing him to topple to the floor.

Henry didn't deny the observation as he crossed his arms and asked, "What did you do this time?"

Shawn righted himself as he shot back, "Who says I did anything?"

"You're wearing Gus' dress clothes, carrying someone else's bow, and a wizard is throwing around fireballs while asking about you. Clearly you didn't do anything… And where is your sword?"

"I must have forgotten it somewhere," Shawn said, baring his teeth in a sharp smile.

"This isn't funny, Shawn! It's only pure luck no one was hurt last night. The wizard was in this house threatening to bring the roof down. There's more at stake than just you."

The undercurrent of fear coming from his father shook Shawn more than he was willing to admit. Henry was never scared. Shawn narrowed his eyes and asked, "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. And you better not be thinking about using your magic on me."

Shawn hadn't thought of doing that in years; Henry had made sure of that. At this point, he wasn't sure if he could even if he tried. "What did he want to know?"

"What kind of magic you had, how strong, why the werewolves 'picked you' –whatever that means. If you had anyone you cared about in the village…" Henry scoffed. "I laughed in his face at that one. So what stupid thing did you do to piss this guy off?"

"I got married."

Henry's jaw dropped, and Shawn savored the moment.

It didn't last long. "You what?!"

A loud horn cut through their conversation. Shawn jumped to his feet as Henry drew his sword, their argument immediately set aside for later. They had bigger problems now.

The village was under attack.

Chapter Text

The second blast from the horn was just as frantic as the first, and Shawn snapped into action. He grabbed the bow from his shoulder as he rushed to the door, only for Henry to block his way.

"You can't just jump into a fight with an unfamiliar weapon." Henry held out his sword. "Leave that here; I'll get my spare."

Shawn's hand clenched around the bow; he wouldn't betray Lassiter like that. "The man that gave this to me would go berserk if anything happened to it."

"... And he let you use it?"

Shawn only answered with a glare as the horn blew again. "This is really what you want to spend time on?"

"Fine." Henry stalked out of the door before calling behind him, "But don't expect me to say anything nice at your funeral!"

"Like I'd ever expect that…" Shawn muttered as he followed.

Only to stop right outside the door as he took in the scene. The normally peaceful street was full of people running away in terror as two giant worms erupting through it, both so large that they'd put Woody's dissected worm to shame. One of them collapsed down, crushing a cart under its large body as a nearby woman screamed. A guard ran towards it with his sword raised, only to be followed by a large feline beast. It bounded forward on lanky legs, its spotted coat rippling like sunlight through a tree. Its magic shone bright; but there was something wrong…

Henry barked out an order, and the guard turned around just in time for the beast to raise its tail and bring the large spiked ball at the end crashing into the man's chest. He flew back into the side of a building and didn't get back up.

Several more armed villagers rushed forward, and Henry yelled out in a voice that could carry across the space, "Spears on the feline; keep your distance. Swords on the worms!"

The other worm crashed down, sending cracks through the packed dirt street as it burrowed back into the ground. Magic flickered all around him as Shawn readied his bow, but there wasn't any safe spot to shoot with all of the people running past. Another loud voice hollered with the tone of a mother who promised wrath to anyone who didn't listen.

"Children! This way! Now!"

The frantic milling of the villagers who couldn't fight became more organized as they all rushed towards the voice of Gus' mother. She stood looking like a spirit of vengeance with a large cooking pan in one hand and a butcher's knife in the other. Her husband stood nearby with a spear, ready to fight to keep the vulnerable group safe.

"Shawn!" Henry snapped out, forcing Shawn's attention back to him. "An archer doesn't belong on the ground; you need to get higher."

The surrounding magic shifted, and Shawn acted on instinct as he drew the bow and swung it towards Henry. "Move!"

Henry ducked out of the way instantly, and the ground erupted right where he'd been standing. A large worm shot up, and Shawn remembered a lesson in a damp dungeon as he adjusted his aim and let the arrow fly. The shaft buried itself in the small divot where its eye was, and the worm flailed as it collapsed back down. Henry darted forward and stabbed his sword down, right next to the arrow. The worm shuddered and fell still.

"You were saying?" Shawn asked breathlessly. Strange dark marks oozed away from the dead worm's skin, and Shawn Looked closer. He knew that wrongness… A familiar dark leash warped his vision and he gasped as he stepped back.

"This doesn't make sense," Henry said, taking in the worm and the surrounding fight. "They've never given us problems before. Why are they attacking now?"

"It's Magnus. He's controlling them."

"What did you do?!"

Loud screaming cut them off, and they both rushed forward towards the noise. They reached the edge of the buildings just in time to see four worms emerge from the ground, right next to the wall. The wall wobbled and bucked before crashing down, unable to stay standing after the ground underneath it had been tunneled away.

Shawn's breath caught in his throat at the carnage; this was because of him.

A large bear stood on the other side of the upended wall, its fur glowing gold in the sun. Several arrows bounced off of it, and it let out a roar before charging in. Another ball-tailed feline rounded the corner, and Henry cursed as Shawn shot another arrow. "There's too many. We can't–"

A girl ran up to them, panting as she looked around with terrified eyes. "Mr. Captain, sir."

"Report," Henry answered.

"The werewolves have been signaled. Three more cats have been spotted, and Dennis thought he saw a ghost deer just outside the gate. Three worms and one cat down, and… and…"

Her eyes welled up in tears, and Henry nodded grimly. "You've done your duty. Get safe."

The girl didn't need any more encouragement as she sprinted away. Henry pitched his voice louder as he yelled out, "Fall back!"

The fighters who were able followed the order, and Shawn joined the other archers in slowing down the beasts following them. His muscles screamed, but Shawn never listened to anyone. Why would he listen to them? Henry watched his back as he muttered, "What does this gain him? What does he want?"

Shawn didn't know. The only thing he knew for sure was that Magnus needed a werewolf…

And that the werewolves were on their way.

"He needs a werewolf," Shawn realized, his whole body going cold.

Something crashed nearby as he and Henry locked eyes. The village didn't matter to the wizard, it was just the means to an end. And they'd done exactly what he'd known they would…

"It's a trap," they said at the same time.

The torchlight flickered across Gus' parchment as he debated what to write next. The werewolves had all collapsed in exhaustion as soon as they'd returned to the keep. Several of them had even fallen asleep on each other, making for very deadly, yet cute, furry piles. Gus' quill lowered back to the parchment and he found himself wishing he could draw instead of write.

He shook his head at the thought and wrote another line of words, documenting everything he could remember of the wedding ceremony. Shawn only had eyes for adventure, but by this point, Gus was writing more of a bestiary entry than an epic tale. For relying on each other, humans really didn't know anything about the werewolves.

Though, speaking of Shawn… Gus looked towards the great hall doors, willing them to show his friend. He didn't know how long the hunt was supposed to last, but it had to be nearly sunrise. Surely they should have been back by now…

Dread crept into Gus' stomach as his gaze scanned over the wolves again. If they were all this wore out, then Lassiter had to be just as Weak. And he and Shawn were out there alone… Gus let out a shaky breath and returned to his parchment. His silent vigil.

The last time Shawn had decided to go off on an 'adventure' without him, he'd come back with a broken arm and scratches all down his side. He'd talked about being chased by a strange masked creature and falling down a cliff while the barber had set his bone. But there had been several suspicious holes in the story that Gus had never fully believed.

He'd vowed to never let Shawn wander off on his own ever since. And he'd succeeded for almost seven years.

A soft skittering noise had Gus checking the door again, but it was still empty and Shawn-less. He sighed and made himself more comfortable at the table. It was going to be a long night…

The parchment was full, the wolves had woken up filled with energy, and Juliet had annoyed him into eating some nuts before anyone came through the door. Gus nearly threw up the meager meal when he saw Lassiter was alone. Where was Shawn?

Juliet seemed worried too as she trotted up to Lasiter and sniffed at him. He snarled, all of his teeth showing as he snapped at her. It seemed to surprise Juliet as much as Gus as she jerked her head back and growled back. Lassiter only snarled louder, the fur on the back of his neck standing on end as he stalked away.

Gus braced himself and forced his feet forward, even as every instinct screamed at him to stay back. He needed to know. "Where's Shawn?"

Lassiter ignored him, letting out a bark that brought the chief loping over. Gus' heart pounded in his chest as he stepped in front of the creature that could kill him with a look. "Where's Shawn?"

Bone crushing teeth flashed towards him as an angry snarl tore at his soul. Oh gods, he was going to die.

Gus met the werewolf's murderous gaze as shakes wracked his body. If his friend needed help, then he needed to know. "What did you do to him?"

A quiet woof broke their standoff, and soft fur brushed by Gus' hand as Vick weaved between them. A fast conversation was had, with quiet growls and pinned back ears and fast sniffs. Gus gritted his teeth as his question remained unanswered. Shawn might be bleeding out somewhere and he couldn't understand a single thing being communicated.

Something cold and wet nudged his other hand, and he pulled it back with a squeek. Juliet nosed him again before deliberately pawing at the ground. He just barely made out a basic shape smudged through the dust on the floor. A shape that looked like a house. Relief washed over him as Gus understood. "Shawn went to the village?"

Juliet deliberately nodded her head as Lassiter growled.

But that made no sense… "Why?!"

A loud thrum cut off any answer as a polished shield hanging over the fireplace flared gold. Every head in the hall turned towards it before immediately focusing on Vick.

"What's going on?" Gus had to ask, even though he knew he wouldn't understand the answer.

Vick stared at the shield for another moment before letting out a loud yip and a howl. All of the werewolves scrambled to their feet, and Lassiter snarled at her choice. She lunged towards him, snarling back, and Gus froze in fear at the aggression happening right in front of him.

Lassiter seemed surprised too as he immediately covered his teeth and stepped back. One more sharp bark was all it took for him to bare his throat submissively, his tail tucked between his legs.

Her position resolidified, Vick turned to Juliet and they had a quick exchange. Gus nearly jumped out of his skin as Juliet leaned against him, reminding all of them he still existed. And that he was far far far too vulnerable around all of their teeth and claws.

Vick studied him before looking back towards the door, her eyes almost looking worried. She let out a quiet huff that seemed aimed at Juliet before loudly howling again. The werewolves all turned as one and rushed outside.

Gus finally regained the ability to move. He wasn't going to die yet.

A tug at his pants had him rethinking that celebration as he looked down to see Juliet biting the fabric. "Wha–"

She pulled again harder, and for the sake of his clothes, Gus followed her prompting. She took him towards the stairs leading to the dungeon, where Woody and the scarred werewolf were just emerging.

"Ah, Gus. I don't suppose you know why Benedict is convinced I need to–" Woody stopped as he saw the still-glowing shield. "Oh dear."

"What?" Gus asked, dread making his voice shake. If even Woody was concerned…

"It means the village needs help."

It was like Gus had swallowed a bagful of rocks all at once. The village only needed help when it was attacked. Shawn was in the village. His family was in the village. They were all in trouble.

Juliet led them out of the keep, following the path the other werewolves had already disappeared down. Gus picked up the pace, silently urging the older man and wounded wolf to move faster. He should have never let Shawn out of his sight.

What did Shawn do this time?

Shawn's shoulders shook as he took aim and let another arrow fly. It missed its mark, hitting the golden bear on the cheek instead of in the eye. But it was enough to make it stop for a second and shake its head. Like the deadly projectiles raining down were just annoying bees swarming its face.

A worm fell to the swords hacking at it, the crash of its body reverberating through the torn up market square. The bear roared in anger as a javelin flew into its shoulder. A guard let out a pained scream as she discovered the cat creatures had sharp claws as well as a deadly tail. Henry barked out orders over the cacophany.

Shawn felt a familiar magic shift and let his voice join his father's. "Worm! Get away from the Alderman's house!"

The fighters scattered, and the ground cracked where they'd stood as another worm errupted from the depths.

"I don't know how much longer we can keep this up," Henry said grimly as one of the cats fell to a sword.

Shawn wasn't able to answer as a new magic pulled at him, larger than the rest. And still stinking of the wizard's leash. "Oh no…"

A strange clicking joined the sounds of the battle as a large monstrosity climbed over one of the buildings. Shawn gaped at the eight sharp-tipped legs, the glittering mass of eyes, and the large pincers snapping together menacingly. The creature reared up, and an arm hooked around Shawn and pulled him back. A large string of sticky web shot right where he'd been standing.

"Gods have mercy," Henry muttered right behind Shawn's ear.

Shawn found himself adding his own prayer as he nocked another arrow. "Lassiter… please hurry."

Chapter Text

Anger burned in Lassiter's heart as he ran with the pack. He hadn't even had a chance to feel properly betrayed before he'd had to turn around and save his idiot mate. If Shawn had set off the signal without a damn good reason…

They were only bound for life. Nothing said Lassiter couldn't make Shawn's life shorter.

And if the signal was real?

The anger flickered before returning in full force. Then maybe something else would put Shawn out of Lassiter's misery.

The thought wasn't as satisfying as he'd like, but that didn't matter. Lassiter wasn't running towards the village for him; he was doing it for the pack. Vick had been right to challenge him.  He'd put his own feelings above the pack's duty; they'd sworn to protect the village when it was in need. It didn't matter what annoying humans happened to be saved while fulfilling that duty.

At least Shawn was a good enough fighter to survive until the pack got there.

The ground sped by, Lassiter's paws barely touching the dirt before launching him forward again. The village had a good fighting force; their commander had done well on training them. The werewolves weren't signaled unless the threat was too large for even them. It couldn't be a coincidence that it was happening while the wolves were already being hunted.

Maybe Shawn had been right to go to the village…

Lassiter snarled at the air, pushing his legs to move faster to leave the thought behind. Shawn had chosen the village over the pack. The pack always came first.

Vick snapped at him as he came abreast of her, her lips drawn away from her fangs in a show of dominance. It wasn't his call if another pack member had done their duty or not. A reassuring growl followed as she allowed him to keep pace with her. He'd kept the pack safe. He'd been right to warn them.

The rough edges grinding inside Lassiter's soul were soothed by the reassurance. Until they crested the final hill and he saw the village.

The signal had been set off for a damn good reason. An entire section of the protective wall had collapsed, and a large dead worm laying on top gave them a good hint as to what had happened. This was more than just raiders.

Vick howled, spurring the pack to run even faster as they streamed over the broken wooden beams and into the village. Carnage was visible everywhere they looked, from dead creatures to crumbled buildings to groaning humans covered in blood. The tangy iron smell overwhelmed their senses as the sounds of active fighting guided them forward.

Vick pulled up short as they rounded a building, and Lassiter stopped with her, his mind frozen as he tried to take in everything at once. Large worms, pouncing felines, fighting humans, a roaring bear, a monstrous spider… So much motion and information to take in all at once.

A spiked ball tail crashed into a human's arm, causing them to cry out and drop their sword as another human darted in to pull the feline's attention. Behind them, a worm swayed in the air before crashing heavily to the ground, crushing a man under its weight. The golden bear roared in anger at the spears thrusting towards it, and the spider shot out a stream of web as one of its legs impaled a fighter through their stomach.

Two thoughts warred with each other in Lassiter's mind.

Why were so many different monsters attacking the village?

And where was Shawn?

The second question was answered by the spider chittering angrily at an arrow glancing off of its head. Lassiter followed its trajectory and saw Shawn nocking another arrow as he stepped around the web that had been shot at him. Vick let out a loud howl, pulling the pack's attention. The humans were spread too thin; they couldn't fight on so many fronts at once. They needed to play to their strengths.

The pack heeded her orders, bounding forward and splitting up. The felines didn't stand a chance as teeth and claws descended on them. Lassiter led the remaining wolves in a charge against the bear, his fangs sinking into its flank before he had to dart away from its punishing bite.

The commander of the humans didn't take long to understand their strategy, and he yelled out his own orders. "Leave the cats, swords back on the worms. Long range, focus the spider!"

A familiar voice yelled out right after, the commanding tone sending shivers through Lassiter's fur. "Dennis, move!"

A guard with blood running down his face backed up, his weapon ready for the worm erupting out of the ground in front of him. Another shot of silk caught Shawn's leg, and a knife appeared in his free hand to hack at the snare.

And Lassiter's blood ran cold as he saw the shadows of movement behind Shawn. He reacted without thinking, sprinting across the square and leaping into the air, catching the ball-tailed feline as it launched itself at Shawn's unguarded back.

The tail slammed into Lassiter's side as they fell to the ground, the sharp bruising pain knocking his breath away. It didn't stop his teeth as he lunged for its neck, and it retaliated in kind, their interlocked bodies rolling in the dirt. Sharp claws found his muzzle, fangs found his scruff, and Lassiter found his opening. Warm blood gushed in his mouth as the cat screamed, the sound sending vibrations through his teeth that were buried in its throat. He shook his head, biting deeper as the skin ripped and tore.

The feline's tail came down on him one last time, the blow barely noticeable through his fur. The body shuddered and grew still.

"Lassie!"

Hands ran over Lassiter's shoulder, and he growled, his teeth still clenched around his prey's throat to ensure it was completely dead. The only creature who was allowed to kill Shawn was him.

"Oh thank the gods… It's about time you showed up!"

Lassiter finally released his kill, turning to snarl at his idiot human. He hadn't forgotten his betrayal.

Shawn grinned back, baring all of his teeth. "Nope, you just saved my gorgeous butt. You can't take that back."

Of course he could. Lassiter shook off the fight, pain pounding in his side and searing down his snout. He'd heal. He snorted a final retort; he didn't do it to save Shawn. He'd had to save his bow.

Shawn flinched back, vulnerability flickering across his face before a smirk covered it. Which… wasn't the reaction Lassiter had expected. Before he had time to think about it further, the commander's voice cut through the air. "Shawn! They're focusing on you; get out of sight."

"Like hells I will," Shawn muttered, drawing an arrow and shooting it towards the spider. His voice was clipped and emotionless as he told Lassiter, "It's Magnus controlling them. Like he did the mercenary."

Everything clicked into place, and a growl grew in Lassiter's throat as he took in the death and destruction before him. Magnus had already been a threat to the werewolves, but to turn on his own kind…

"He knew you'd come; the pack is in danger."

Shawn was part of the pack… Lasitter barked at him to stay safe before sprinting across the battlefield to their chief. She needed to know.

He took stock of his pack as he ran. Johnson went flying from a hit from the bear, letting out a rough yelp as he hit the ground. Dobson fought with reckless abandonment, weaving through the spider's legs and launching himself at its mandibles. Althea climbed the crumbling remains of a building before jumping onto the spider's back. Was anyone missing? They'd played right into the wizard's hands, now what?

Vick had just won her own fight with a feline when Lassiter found her. It only took a few barks to relay the new information, and her ears pinned back in worry as she surveyed the battle. Her howled order for the pack to stay aware was nearly drowned out by the angry roar of the bear as it stumbled and fell on its side.

The human commander yelled more orders as another worm was hacked down. Several spear-carrying fighters rushed in to make sure the bear didn't get back up again. The tides of the battle were turning. The only real threat to the pack was the spider.

The spider that would be able to snare a wolf and bring it to the wizard…

Lassiter ran forward, joining the fight as he bit at one of the spider's legs. They needed to bring the body down low enough to attack… The spider let out a shrill screech and reared up, its front legs raising in the air as it snapped its mandibles. Lassiter and Dobson both launched themselves at the lowered abdomen, but the spider spun out of their way.

Lassiter's back was painfully exposed as he landed in the dirt, and the spider took advantage, covering him with a thick layer of webbing. He fought against the bindings, his side screaming in protest as a shadow loomed over him. It wasn't going to be enough. After all of this, he was going to die less than a day after his wedding.

He'd just started getting to know Shawn; he wasn't ready to die yet.

The shadow passed over him, and the spider scurried away from the fight, only slowing enough to shake the small werewolf from its back. Lassiter stared after it; he was going to have to live with the thought that he'd just had?

The bear let out one last groan before growing still, a final worm buried itself back in the ground, and there wasn't a living feline to be seen. Silence hung in the air with the tension of a strung bow. The fighting was over.

Why was the fighting over?

A whoop broke the moment, and the surviving humans began to cheer for their continued existence. Lassiter pulled harder against the webbing; he had to get free before the trap was sprung. The only reason the wizard would have stopped was if he'd gotten what he'd wanted.

"Easy, I've got you," Shawn said from behind him. The web pulled tighter and started to vibrate with the sound of a cutting knife.

Lassiter growled on principle; he wasn't Weak.

"I know, I know… You're a strong, independent wolf, and you don't need anyone."

That was exactly true. But knives did work better than fangs at times… Lassiter stayed still as the web was cut from him, using the time to take in the battlefield.

The village would be rebuilding for months, if not years. More buildings were broken than whole, and bodies were visible throughout the rubble. Lassiter's heart fell when he saw an unmoving furry body; the pack hadn't gone unscathed either.

"Shawn! I told you to get out of sight!" the human commander yelled as he stalked towards them.

Lasitter bristled at the tone, baring his teeth at the threat.

"And the order was stupid, so I didn't listen," Shawn snapped back. The knife cut through the last of the web and he began peeling it off of Lassiter's body.

"You want to talk about stupid?  What about antagonizing a wizard to the point that he tries to destroy the village!"

"I've never even met the guy!"

"I'm supposed to believe that it's just coincidence that he's attacking us now?"

Bites of pain followed the sticky web as it pulled out clumps of Lassiter's fur. He snapped his teeth at the feeling and the argument in front of him. That cox-combed parasite had been troubling the pack long before Shawn had joined them.

"Lassiter says that's exactly what you should believe," Shawn translated.

"And I'm sure 'Lassiter' agrees that the fight isn't done so you need to get out of sight. He's already had to save you once when you weren't paying attention."

"Unbelievable!" Shawn pulled the web sharply, ripping it the rest of the way from Lasitter's fur.

Lassiter surged up, snarling at the man attacking his packmate. Shawn was an idiot, but he was Lassiter's idiot.

A sword flashed in the sun, and Lasitter's idiot placed himself between the steel and the teeth. "Woah, woah, stop! Lassiter, meet my father. Henry, meet my husband."

The commander froze, gaping at Shawn. "Your… What?"

Lassiter felt a similar shock. Shawn's abilities with weapons suddenly made a whole lot more sense…

"I thought you were lying through your teeth. You actually got married?"

"Surprise…"

Shawn's citrus smell soured, betraying the uncertainty he was hiding behind a smug look. That wouldn't do. Lassiter's anger faded into the past as he placed himself by Shawn's side and leaned against his leg. Shawn had stayed in danger to continue fighting. He'd chosen the pack.

The Spirit's song welcomed the swirling sparkles as Shawn's hand lowered to rest lightly on Lassiter's scruff. Lassiter growled in warning at Shawn's father; if he attacked one member of the pack, he attacked all of them.

Henry hesitated, his sword lowering as he took them in. Before he could say anything, Vick loped up to them, breaking into the moment.

She gave Shawn an appraising sniff before focusing on Lassiter, taking in the furrows on his snout and the blood oozing from the wound on his side. Lassiter huffed off her concern; he could still fight.

The sigh Vick let out sounded too much like motherly tolerance, but she didn't bring up his wounds again as she relayed her news. One pack member was dead and two more gravely wounded. And Buzz wasn't anywhere to be found.

Lassiter's blood ran cold and he thought back to the battle. Had he seen Buzz at all? He'd been with them when they'd run over the wall, but that was all Lassiter could remember.

The wizard wanted a werewolf… and now a werewolf was missing.

Vick let out a rough bark in agreement before howling to the rest of the pack. The fight was over. They needed to find Buzz's trail.

"Check the horse stalls," Shawn chimed in unexpectedly. "He was… hiding something there. Last time the pack visited."

Henry frowned at them all. "Wait, you can understand them?"

"Sorry, I'll try to be 'cursed with magic' a bit more quietly for you," Shawn said sarcastically. "A packmate is missing: big and tall, dark gray fur. Try to keep up."

"Yes, it was absolutely terrible of me to make sure you stayed alive," Henry snarked back. "And if a wolf is missing, then you know damn well who has him."

"But we still have to figure out where." Shawn walked off without a backwards glance, and Lassiter followed after giving Henry one last glare. He was starting to understand why Shawn was the way he was…

The stables were easy to find; they were one of the few intact buildings left. They were also one of the few places that didn't smell of blood.

The smell of manure wasn't necessarily better, but it was still different.

Unfortunately, though, it did make it difficult to smell anything else in the building. Lassiter still tried, sniffing at the ground to try to pick up any hints of Buzz being there earlier. He was just about to give up when he smelled something new. The smell of sparkles.

Shawn stood in the middle of the stables, squinting as he Looked towards one of the shadowy corners.  The rays of light shining through the open windows accented the dark circles under his eyes. When was the last time he'd slept?

"There's something there," Shawn murmured, unaware of Lassiter's thoughts. He stepped forward with sure feet, kneeling down and brushing away a grimy layer of straw. His prize sat unassumingly on the cobbled floor: a tarnished gold ring.

Shawn's fingers brushed by it, and he flinched back with a gasp as it started to glow. A disembodied voice echoed through the air. "If you want to see your pretty fire-head again, you'll come back to the keep. Alone." A muffled scream ended the message as the light faded, leaving behind a simple ring in the dirt.

Vick snarled in the aftermath, her fur standing on end. Magnus had dared to use their keep, after they'd been forced to leave it undefended.

Lassiter growled his agreement, indignation vibrating his very bones. Magnus was dead. He just didn't know it yet.

Vick spun around, leaving the stables and howling to gather the pack. Henry stepped into her vacated place, blocking the way out. His voice was deadly calm as he told Shawn, "This isn't your fight."

Shawn set his jaw as he answered in kind, "Yeah, it is."

"The kind of power this guy throws around… This is way bigger than anything you can handle, kid."

"Then I guess it's a good thing I'm not handling it alone."

Lassiter let out a growl in agreement, readying himself to tackle the human who was standing in their way. The village had forced Shawn to hide who he was. His father had tried to force him to be someone he wasn't. But they didn't get to choose for him anymore.

Shawn wasn't with the village now.

Henry looked between them before stepping out of the way. "Try not to get yourself killed."

"I'll try not to embarass you too badly."

Shawn stalked through the door, but Henry caught his arm on the way out. "Drop by the armory and get more arrows before you go."

It seemed a simple order, but it caused Shawn to freeze and stare at his father in shock. An understanding as deep as blood passed between them, and Shawn answered quietly, "I will."

"Good. If you're going to use it, then at least make sure you do it right."

Shawn huffed a humorless laugh before leaving the stable with Lassiter. He didn't make it far before he hesitated, his hand rubbing the strap of the quiver. A fast war played out on his face before he called over his shoulder, "We could probably use a sword. And another pair of thumbs."

"I'll meet you at the gate." Henry answered instantly, like he'd been waiting for the offer.

Shawn nodded and started jogging towards the village square. Lassiter kept pace with him, his pulse pounding painfully through his wounds.

He was hurting, Shawn was exhausted, and they had no idea what sort of fight was ahead of them…

"Let's go save our packmate."

Lassiter barked in agreement, the Spirit's song burning fire through his veins as he ran alongside his mate.

Chapter Text

The horse's muscles shifted under Shawn and Gus as it galloped down the thin forest trail. Shawn grinned at the wind blowing through his hair, his mind blessedly clear as he rode the constant force teetering between bucking him off and rushing him further down the trail. They had left a bloodied village behind and were running towards a wizard who could kill them all. And in this moment, none of that mattered.

There was only him and the wind. He was flying.

A wolf ran too close to the horse and it shied away, nearly ramming Shawn's leg into a tree and bringing him back to the ground. He clung to Gus' waist, complaining in his ear, "Watch where you're going."

"You think you could do better?" Gus complained right back.

"Yes, obviously!"

Gus and Woody had met them at the gate right as the pack was preparing to leave. After a fast check on his family, Gus had refused to let Shawn out of his sight again. Apparently Shawn had a reputation for getting into trouble and needing Gus to bail him out.

Gus wasn't wrong, but it was still annoying to be called out like that.

Gus leaned forward and Shawn followed his lead as the horse pushed off and jumped over a log. They jolted at the landing, and Shawn squeezed his legs even tighter around the beast's sides. He'd never live it down if he fell off a horse in front of Lassiter.

Gus straightened and his voice sounded smug as he said, "Too bad; you're not allowed to have the reins. It's the village's horse. You know what happened last time…"

Shawn sighed at their unfair world. "You break one stable…"

"You let all of the horses out. All at once."

"They wanted to run free. Was I supposed to tell them no?"

"Of course you were supposed to tell them no!"

A rough bark broke through their argument and Lassiter bared his teeth at them. The horse shied away again and Shawn Felt Lassiter's growl more than heard it. The pack could be being destroyed that very moment and the humans were acting like idiots.

Shawn pretended to be offended as he said, "I'll have you know, I do not act."

Lassiter's only response was to speed up to get away from them. Which was a shame. His gorgeously dark fur was absolutely mesmerizing when it rippled across his back…

Gus' shoulders rose and fell in a sigh. "Now look what you did."

"I know. Great, right?"

It wasn't like being all broody and miserable would help Buzz or the pack right now. Shawn didn't need the time to think about how the village would never let him through its gates again either. Or how Lassiter could still decide Shawn wasn't worthy of being in the pack… Riling up Gus was a much better use of his time.

The fact that it also riled up his father was just an amazing bonus. Henry looked back across the flank of his own horse and called out, "Would it kill you to be serious for once in your life?"

"Why? You're plenty serious for both of us," Shawn called back. For the life of him, he had no idea why he'd thought inviting Henry along would be a good choice. There'd been a moment –one moment– where it had seemed like Henry could actually look at Shawn without disappointment clouding his eyes. Shawn had been an idiot to think that could last.

It had been nice though.

Henry urged his horse faster, leaving Shawn and Gus in their own tiny bubble of solitude. Gus leaned down to pat the horse's neck. "It's ok, Blueberry. It's not you. I'll make sure you get the best oats tonight."

Shawn gladly ran with the newest distraction. "Who names a horse 'Blueberry'?"

"I do!"

"But why?"

The forest flew by them as the arguments rambled, and it didn't seem like any time had passed before Henry slowed down and dismounted. Gus followed his lead and Shawn slid off of the horse, his now-wobbly legs making the pains across his shoulders and back grumble.

Shawn ignored them and answered Gus' unspoken confusion, "It's pretty hard to sneak around on a horse."

Henry answered back immediately, "It's hard to sneak around when you don't know the meaning of 'quiet' either."

"Sorry, did you say something?" Shawn asked, his innocent tone undercut by a warning growl from Lassiter. The bloody gouges on his snout made him look even more badass as he stared Shawn's father down.

Henry held up a placating hand and swallowed the retort he clearly wanted to say. And Shawn grinned at the quiet submission. He had the sexiest husband ever.

For now.

The grin fell at the thought, but it didn't matter. They were here for bigger reasons. The pack spread out, their bodies low and silent as they crept forward. Without any distractions, it was hard to ignore the impending sense of doom that Shawn had been trying to run from all day. And the feeling only became more overwhelming as they reached the keep.

On the surface it already looked bad. The raider band patrolled the crumbling outer wall with multiple archers tucked in the nooks and crannies. Clubs, swords, arrows… It would be almost impossible to get through their fortified position without it turning into a bloodbath. But underneath…

A sense of wrongness oozed through the entire structure, darkness slowly layering on itself like fat on a forming candle. For the first time in his life, Shawn didn't want to Look closer to know more.

Luckily, Vick let out a quiet growl before he could convince himself to do it anyway. All of her fur stood on end, and her lips drew back to show every one of her teeth. The feral song rang bright, rushing through the pack as they prepared to fight for their home.

"I've seen you fight; I know you can hold your own," Henry murmured to Vick quietly, tilting his head to bare his throat. "But nearly every one of you is wounded. A direct attack is going to be a slaughter."

Vick didn't stand down, her angry gaze shifting to the man challenging her authority. Henry didn't look away, refusing to submit even while showing the proper respect.

Shawn honestly didn't know which one he wanted to win. Charging the keep would hurt the pack more than it would help; Vick was acting on instinct rather than strategy. But if he thought that then he was agreeing with his father.

The last voice anyone expected to hear broke the standoff as the raider leader walked out of the main gate. "I know those markings, I've seen them before." Gus studied the black marks across the leader's face, his curiosity overriding his fear of the angry predators surrounding them.

"It's Magnus' magic," Shawn said. "I told you that, didn't I?"

"You didn't say what it looked like. That's control magic."

Was that useful? "You said you didn't know anything about magic."

"I said the library didn't have much on magic." Gus thumbed his nose with a smirk. "There's other places to learn from. Remember the traders with the black haired, green eyed beauty?"

Indignant relief ran through Shawn as he fell back into what was comfortable. "I can't believe you. I kept Dennis busy all day so you could have her to yourself… and you two just read books?"

"That's not all I did!" Gus snapped back. Shawn Knew without a doubt that it was all he'd done. "And if I hadn't, then you wouldn't know Magnus uses control magic."

"What does that mean?" Henry asked, cutting in before Shawn could argue more. He was still staring Vick down, because of course he was.

"It means he can command things, and they have to follow his order. Things like commanding a mirror to give off light or a ring to give off sound. I was trying to figure out how he'd managed to direct all of those monsters, but with control magic he'd just have to command them to attack and they'd do the rest."

But that wasn't how the leash always worked… "Lassie and I saw Magnus take him over with the markings last night."

"Sure, but there's different levels. Maybe the leader didn't actually want to hunt you, but was commanded to do it. Even when Magnus wasn't in direct control."

Vick let out a quiet growl, her gaze never wavering. If Magnus was that powerful than he could have just commanded the Weakness to leave the pack.

Shawn quietly translated and Gus shrugged. "I don't know. I, uh, may have become distracted by the… view when Lily was talking about it. But every magic has its limits, right? Otherwise Magnus could have just controlled all of the bad guys instead of just their leader."

A thought niggled at Shawn and he ignored the next question as he watched the raiders patrol the area. The magic pulsed dark, setting his teeth on edge. They didn't have much time. They needed to get into the keep without a long drawn out fight. He needed to keep the pack safe.

Like Lassiter had kept him safe. When the spider had webbed him.

A realization and a plan burst into his head all at once, sparking like a hot sword being hit by a blacksmith. He cut off Henry's boring drivel to ask, "What if he used the same command?"

Vick and Henry both broke their standoff to stare at him instead with varying levels of confusion.

They didn't have time for this. "The spider was trying to catch me, just like these guys had been commanded to." Shawn glanced over to where Lassiter had been a constant steady presence. "They were told to bring us to Magnus. Alive. I bet the leader still has that command."

Lassiter's ears perked up and he stepped forward, agreeing with Shawn without a fight. The feral song swirled so thick around them that Shawn could practically see it with his regular eyes. A small knot of uncertainty loosened in Shawn's chest; he was still worthy.

Vick would listen to her second in command. It was Henry who'd be a problem. Shawn rushed to get ahead of the arguments. "Attack an enemy from two sides, right? Lassie and I get inside and get close to Magnus. He's doing something; I can feel it. Either we're the distraction or you are."

Vick's calculating look was back, her instincts controlled. She huffed a quiet warning; they'd be alone if there was any trouble. The pack wouldn't be able to save them.

Lassiter answered her in kind. Then the pack would only lose two members instead of the dozen surrounding them.

Henry didn't pay them any attention as he held a second conversation over their heads. "You don't have to prove anything to me. You don't have to do this."

"Believe me, I'm as shocked as you, but I'm not doing this to prove anything," Shawn answered, surprising himself with his honesty. "A packmate needs saved. And Magnus needs stopped."

Gods. He sounded mature. When did that happen?

Henry seemed to be wondering the same thing, but the only thing he said was, "Remember what your mother said. The bigger the ritual, the more important the focus. If he's 'doing something' then you need to break whatever he's using as a focus."

For the second time that day, Shawn found himself dumbfounded at his father. He never talked about Shawn's mother. Or magic. How did he even remember that? His mouth moved for him, giving Henry advice back. "The other bad guys listen to the man with the club, and he hates Magnus. Without the leader, you can probably convince them to run."

Henry's lips twitched up into a small smile that on anyone else would look proud. "Try not to do anything too stupid in there."

"Try not to do anything too boring out here," Shawn shot back as he handed over Lassiter's bow and quiver to Gus. "Don't lose these or I'm guaranteed to not survive today."

Lassiter huffed in agreement, showing Gus the points of his fangs. Gus gulped and held the weapons close. "I should go with you."

Shawn must have found the shiniest halfpenny that had ever shined the day he'd met Gus. But as much as Gus' support meant, he couldn't be allowed to come with. "They were told to bring in me and Lassiter. Not me, Lassiter, and the smartest man in town."

"You always get into trouble when I'm not with you," Gus argued halfheartedly, his shoulders already slumping in defeat.

"I need you out here making sure Henry doesn't embarrass himself. He's getting old, you know."

Henry snorted but didn't argue.

Gus nodded in resignation. "I'll never forgive you if you die."

"I'll never forgive me either." Shawn gave him what he hoped was a confident smile. "I'll see you soon."

"Don't make me wait up for you again."

And with that sendoff, Lassiter and Shawn left the group, ready to offer themselves up as bait.

Lassiter hated offering himself up for bait.

At least the hot sting of the slashes along his muzzle and side were proof to himself that he was able to hold his own in a fight. He growled low in his throat as they drew closer to the keep, informing Shawn exactly how he felt about willingly tucking his tail between his legs.

The feral song trilled in his mind, the notes rolling over themselves just like Shawn rolling his eyes. "You agreed with me on the plan."

Sure. It was the best one they had. It didn't mean Lassiter had to like it…

"I could always do it myself." Shawn's tone was casual, but his twinging smell told a different story. He was afraid. And Lassiter was almost positive that the fear didn't have anything to do with them walking into danger.

Lassiter huffed and kept pace with his mate. He wouldn't leave him.

No matter how idiotic he sometimes was.

"I like you too," Shawn answered, his smell warming with the deceptively light words.

A raider's shout cut off any other conversation and Shawn theatrically startled back. He yelled loud enough for the other raiders to hear, "What's going on?"

He turned, as if to run away, and an arrow buried itself into the ground next to them. Shawn froze, his eyes locking with Lassiter's as they both wondered the same thing. Was the order to bring them in alive still active?

Several raiders stalked closer with their weapons ready, and Lassiter didn't even have to act as he bristled and snarled at the threat. The leader stopped a safe distance away and called out, "Well, well, well, what do we have here? The boy and his dog decided to come home."

Lassiter snarled in answer; he was going to rip the man's throat out and piss in the wound.

"Where's the pack?" Shawn asked, doing a good impression of someone who'd been caught off guard. "What did you do with them?"

"You've got bigger things than that to worry about," the leader gloated as the rest of the raiders spread out, surrounding them with weapons. Lassiter's back prickled at their precarious position; at least they weren't dead yet. The leader eyed Shawn up in disdain. "I guess Magnus gets two dogs tonight. No clue why he wants you though…"

The leader's smell shifted so slightly that Lassiter could have thought it was just a change in the breeze. But he knew what to look for now. Magnus had always smelled like an oily rat. His magic smelled the same as it pulled on the leader, compelling him to act.

"Maybe Magnus wants hair care tips?" Shawn asked.

Sharp pain burst through Lassiter's side as a spear prodded his wound. A yelp made its way out of his mouth, and he covered it with a snarl as he prepared to lunge at the man who'd just chosen death.

Shawn got there first, smacking the spear aside and completely ignoring every other weapon aiming at him. The smell of his magic surged as he spat out, "You're going to want to keep that thing close tonight. I wonder how well you'll sleep when your 'friends' know about your sticky fingers. A bit of bread here, a bit of fruit there. They sleep with aching stomachs and you sneak snacks on your watch. Their clothes keep getting looser while yours are practically bursting at the seams."

The man paled, his eyes darting around to his much skinnier, and now angrier, companions. "He's lying. I swear!"

"Want to tell them about the last group you were with? How you were conveniently giving a whore a green gown when the soldiers arrested them all? How many silver pieces did you get again?"

The man finally recovered from the onslaught and raised his weapon, only to be stopped by the leader's barked, "Enough!"

"Guess they don't get to hear about where you shat that one time," Shawn practically growled, sounding more like a wolf than any human had a right to. "Hope stabbing someone who wasn't even looking at you was worth it."

"As interesting as this all is," the leader said, trying -and failing- to sound in control, "we've got a job to do. Come quietly on your own or get dragged in with chains. Your choice."

Shawn still didn't move, and Lassiter found himself in the annoying position of having to nose Shawn's hand to stop the fight he desperately wanted to watch. If they survived this, he'd have to find a way to bring out Shawn's predator side more often.

Shawn's demeanor switched instantly, his body loosening as his voice brightened with a smile. "I've always wanted to see a super secret magic ritual in the middle of a broken down castle! My friend is a scribe, he'd love to see it too. So I guess I'll just have to take notes… I don't suppose you know how to write? I'd be happy to tell you what to say. I'm good at telling people things. All the things. Like have you heard about Pluto? Apparently he kidnapped a maiden. That's messed up."

Shawn continued rambling, seemingly still unaware of the sharp weapons herding them through the main gate. Lassiter bristled as the smell of oily magic grew suffocatingly thick inside the keep. His pack's keep. The wizard wasn't allowed to make it his.

A gentle hand brushed by the fur behind his ears, a quiet reassurance under the chattering noise. He wasn't the only one who sensed the wrongness. The inner door closed behind them, separating them from the pack. They were on their own.

The song of the spirits shuddered, oil dripping through the notes and smothering the tones. Lassiter growled as his resolve to protect the pack hardened. They weren't locked in with the wizard.

The wizard was locked in with them. And he was going to pay.

Chapter Text

Dark magic pulled on Shawn as he descended the stairs to the dungeon.  It seeped under his skin, anchoring itself in his very bones.  Nothing stopped the air flowing into his mouth, and yet he struggled to breathe as his instincts screamed to run away.  The only things keeping him moving forward was the fur brushing by his fingers and the sword aimed at his back.

“Gods, I can’t wait for this job to be done,” the raider leader grumbled as he prodded Shawn to move faster.

“You do realize that once this job is done, you’re probably dead, right?”

“Shut your mouth and keep moving.”

Well, it had been worth a try…  A low chanting started as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and the oily magic thrummed in time with the words.  Lassiter’s hackles rose, his growl a soothing balm to the pressure growing behind Shawn’s eyes.  Magnus was going to regret ever coming into their home.

The leader growled back in frustration and shoved Shawn forward, forcing him towards the sound.  “I said move!”

But Shawn didn’t want to move.  Every step took him closer to the wrongness.  Even without trying, he was Seeing the darkness tarnish the life that usually lived within the stone walls.  The spiders weren’t weaving, the rats weren’t scurrying, and the ants couldn’t even be Felt.

Lassiter let out another growl, his feral song a spot of brightness among the encroaching void.  Shawn let out a breath and took another step forward, bringing the dungeon into view.

Magnus had corrupted Woody’s work area, turning a place of discovery into one of destruction.  Runes glowed on the floor, circling the wolf’s body that was tied to the table.  The magic light behind the table flickered with the chants, and the wolf tensed against the ropes.  Relief flowed through Shawn at the sight; Buzz was still alive.

A quiet whimper from the corner showed his bait was alive too, the red-headed daughter of the blacksmith.  A pair of manacles held her in place as tears ran down her cheeks.

The chanting suddenly stopped, and the wizard stepped out of the shadows.

At first glance, Magnus was rather underwhelming.  After all of the build-up, it was disappointing to see a face that would have fit in with the most ordinary villagers.   His patchy beard and bald spot certainly weren’t doing him any favors, either.  Shawn took a more confident step forward, his full head of magnificent hair held high.

Only for him to be brought up short by another wave of dark magic as the wizard’s robe billowed in the non-existent wind.  

“What is the meaning of this interruption?” Magnus demanded.

“Apologies, my lord,” the leader said, his disdain carefully covered.  “You said to bring these two to you.”

“You empty-headed cumberworld.  I don’t need them anymore.”

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.  Shawn cut off the leader’s explanation to ask, “If you’re the one who forgot to take the command off of him, doesn’t that make you the empty-headed cumberworld?”

“Silence your tongue, cur!”  Power danced at Magnus’ fingertips as he pointed towards them.  “You have no idea the greatness you are in the presence of.”

Lassiter snarled a harsh insult at the barely veiled threat before throwing himself forward.  The air listened to another master, thickening around the sigils on the ground. Shawn called out a warning a second too late, and  Lassiter rammed into the invisible wall.  The magic flared, and he crumpled to the ground with a yelp.

Shawn started forward, but a hand gripped his arm, pulling him up short as a sword pressed into his throat.

“Give me a reason.  I’m begging you,” the leader growled in his ear.

Oh Shawn would give him a reason… Lassiter saved him from himself, limping back to his paws before Shawn could insult the man who wanted to kill them.  Lassiter's teeth flashed in a silent snarl, and the feral song brushed through Shawn's mind; don't get killed unless it was for a good reason.

Surely a really devastating insult was a good enough reason… the sword pressed further into Shawn's throat as the leader took what little control he could.

“Enough!” Magnus commanded.  “They might still be useful.  Let them witness my power; the greatest act of magic anyone has ever seen.  The werewolves didn’t know what they were rejecting when they drove me away.  Little did they know that they’d given me the answer to it all.  I will have control.  I will have power.  I will finally have the respect I deserve!”

Shawn gave him the respect he deserved. “What, the ritual’s going to give you better hair?” The sword pressed harder into his throat, drawing blood.

“You dare mock me?!”

Lassiter let out a rough bark; of course Shawn dared mock him.  It was what Shawn did.

Shawn pointed back in agreement.

“I will show you the error of your ways.”  The magic light flared, searing into Shawn’s skull.  “Your magic shall be mine, a mere pittance to the power that will fuel this ritual.  I shall pull the Weakness from this beast” –he waved a glowing hand over Buzz– “and it shall be mine to create, to control; a plague at my fingertips.  Kings will bow before me, kingdoms will rise and fall at my command.  I shall be the most powerful man to ever live.”

Shawn took a breath to insult the insane plan, but the air hardened in his throat.  The sigils burned on the ground, darkness spun around Magnus, and something hooked inside Shawn and pulled.

He jolted, pain scrambling through him as his essence was turned inside out.  There was no separating the magic and his soul; there was only his soul.  And it was screaming, its edges scraping and fraying like a rope being pulled through a too-small hole.  Gods, it hurt.

Magnus started chanting again, and the pull grew stronger, jagged spikes clawing into Shawn’s power.  The sword at his throat clattered to the ground, and the leader of the raiders fell to his knees, groaning in pain as he clutched at the magical markings on his face.  Lassiter swayed, his head down and his ears pinned back in a silent grimace.

A loud yelp forced Shawn’s attention away from his hurting mate and towards the ritual.  Buzz jolted against the ropes holding him as dark magic descended from Magnus’ hands.  Frantic sounds barely made it through his muzzled snout as the tendrils reared back like a snake before striking into his skin.  Buzz’s body snapped taut, his back arching too far in the wrong direction.  Shawn fought to stay standing against another wave of pain; he had to do something.

But what?  This was bigger than any Magic he’d ever seen.

The gods seemed to answer Shawn’s unspoken prayer as the tendrils pulsed, jolting back to Magnus.  He stumbled, his cloak growing still as he struggled to stay in control.  Maybe they wouldn’t have to fight him; maybe the spell would do it for them… More and more of the magic wrapped around Magnus, an inky cocoon consuming him.  Magnus clenched his fists and he chanted louder, fighting as he pulled more and more power from the people around him.  Shawn dropped to a knee, barely able to breathe as he was made empty.

It was too much, he could barely think around the pain.  Only bits and pieces of the ritual filtered through his awareness.  Streaks of magic flowing towards the ritual. A storm of power swirling around Magnus.  The wizard cackling and pointing to the magic light, directing the power into his focus.  The light flaring, burning as bright as the sun.

Shawn forced his eyes away from the blinding sight; the gods weren’t going to help.  And they were running out of time.  Something twisted through his mind, and the walls shook as the light tinged a sickly green.  Magnus laughed in glee as Lassiter met Shawn’s eyes, fear jumping between them.  The magic had found the Weakness.  And they both knew who the first targets would be once Magnus could control it.

Lassiter snarled and rushed forward; they weren’t going down without a fight.  He'd protect the pack until his last breath.  He rammed into the barrier again and again as blood dripped down his side, each hit weaker than before.  Cracks spread through the air, but it wasn't enough.

Shawn planted his foot into the ground and forced himself up, his head jolting in pain at the movement.  Lassiter needed help.

He barely understood what he was seeing as he stumbled forward.  A writhing mass burning sickly green hovered over Buzz, black tendrils holding it in place as it fought its bonds.  Magnus stumbling as he was pulled forward.  Magic being drawn from the magic light towards the ritual.  The light wavering, the blazing light of day dimming to a burnished red of a sunset.

Two pieces of information played through Shawn's mind as he took another step.

From inside the pack the answer will come; only magic can stop the setting sun.

The bigger the ritual, the more important the focus.  If he's doing something, then you need to break whatever he's using as a focus.

Shawn met Lassiter's eyes, understanding jumping between them.  A deep reserve of strength fueled his next steps, and they moved together, rushing into the faltering barrier.  The hardened air snagged at them like jagged glass, and Shawn pushed against the resistance.  They had to get through.  There wasn’t any other option.

The pack was counting on him.  His father was counting on him.  Gus was counting on him.

Lassiter was counting on him.

But it was too much; he was scraped empty from the inside out.  His strength drained as all his focus narrowed to just pushing foward one more inch.  Lassiter’s shoulder pressed into his hip, sharing in the struggle.  They took the next step together, and a faint howl grew between them, an echo of defiance and survival.  From the dredges of Shawn’s soul, magic rose to answer the call, pushing with the urge to reach out, to fight, to become more.

Time stood still as Shawn listened, reaching out for Lassiter with his hand and mind.  Lassiter met him in the middle, the scruff of his neck pressing into Shawn's palm as the feral magic flowed through them.

It sang of love, loss, and resilence.  Memories filled Shawn’s mind that weren’t his.  A father on a deathbed, a bite and a Joining, a pack and a mate, grief ripped open anew, duty soothing it all.  The feral magic intertwined with his, adding and growing, burning out the rest of the forces with pure light.  

The shield broke, and the writhing mass over the wizard trembled.  Lassiter snarled, the light bursting out of him in waves.  Shawn Saw what he saw.  Fear, brotherhood, and resistance.  Memories of a mother being taken away, a fearful flight and a secret, a village and a friend, strength built by relentless drills, defiance protecting it all. 

They were one.  They were whole.  They were strong.

The light reached the table, and the Weakness burned at the contact, embers chasing its edges as it fought even harder.  Magnus yelled and reached out, sending a dark wave towards Shawn with a command.  The magic slipped past them, a river of wrongness flowing around an immovable force of right.  

“I won’t let you ruin this!  I can’t–” Magnus fought harder, drawing from his focus as he kept the Weakness’ destruction at bay.  “I will have control!  I will have respect!  I will–”

Lassiter’s fangs dug into his hand as Shawn’s knife hit the light, shattering it into pieces.  The wizard howled as fire danced above their heads.  “What have you done?!”

The unleashed energy washed over them like a tidal wave, leaving Shawn clutching at the table in order to stay standing.  The floor cracked and dust fell from the ceiling as the magic found its way back to where it belonged.  Magnus cast his uninjured hand out, grabbing for the power, but it slipped past his fingers.  His eyes widened in horror and he tried again, reaching for the last drops of inky blackness as the smoldering Weakness sank into the earth.

“What’s the matter?” Shawn gasped out, grinning darkly at the wizard’s look of dawning horror.  “Werewolf got your hand?  Did you know you lose your magic when you become one of them?"

“No… No, no, no…” Magnus frantically made a sign towards Lassiter.  Nothing happened.

Lassiter bared his bloody teeth at him.

“It can’t… I am the most powerful wizard in the world!  You can’t–”  Magnus doubled over, clutching his bleeding hand with a grunt of pain.  “What’s… What’s happening?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re Turning.  Wonder if you’ll get wolfy right away…”

Lassiter’s answer was drowned out by the past-wizard’s yell of pain, his whole body convulsing.  The last of the Weakness disappeared into the ground, leaving behind only a faint dusting of ash.

Shawn ignored the sounds of pain, instead turning his attention to the body tied down in front of him.  The body that was still breathing.  He grinned in relief as he said over his shoulder, “After meeting him… I can see why you guys didn’t want Magnus in your pack.”

Lassiter snorted in derision; it was an embarrassment that they’d ever welcomed him at all.

Shawn started untying the ropes.  “I guess it ended up alright though.” 

The yells stopped, and Magnus’ body grew limp as he fell unconscious.  Lassiter sniffed at him to make sure he wasn’t faking before turning his back to the soon-to-be-werewolf.  He limped over and leaned against Shawn’s leg.

The ropes fell away, and Shawn shared the brief moment of quiet as he reached down to pet Lassiter's ears.  In some ways, nothing had changed.  The soft fur, the warm strength, the background hum of the feral song.  But in other ways, nothing was the same.  A connection that hadn’t been there before, like an arrow nocking into a string.  A flow of magic going both ways, twisting and turning around one another.  An instinctual understanding as deep as the sea.

Lassiter growled low, the sound running through Shawn’s body as he gazed into the crystal blue eyes of his wolf.  They had been Bound, but now they were more.   Two souls that breathed as one.  

Footsteps rushed down the stairs, and their pack found them standing in strength over their fallen foe.

Chapter Text

The Weakness was gone.

Lassiter had thought he was strong as a wolf, but he hadn’t realized how much the Weakness had held him back.  He felt like he could run for days, dig to the bottom of the world, take on a troll and win…  Even just standing and breathing was easier, like a layer of mud had been sloughed off of his whole body all at once.

The pack flooded into the basement, and Juliet trotted towards him, her eyes as bright as her steps were light.  She was Strong too.

They’d done it; the curse was broken.

The spirit song thrummed in his mind, new tones twisting through it.  After so many tries, so much searching… From odd hedgewiches to great wizards, it had been his idiotic human that his pack had needed.

A hand carded through the fur on the back of his neck, goosebumps of pleasure trailing behind it.  It was uniquely Shawn, from the touch itself to the trust it showed.  Lassiter would have bit any other person who tried it.  His tail wagged slowly.

Juliet reached them, her tail waving high for both of them as she sniffed him over.  Her fruity scent sweetened as she saw Shawn’s hand still petting him.  Lasiter huffed at her, which she naturally ignored.  

Strange magic rose under Shawn’s hand, like hackles rising that weren’t his.  Lassiter shook himself, but the strange feeling persisted, pulling his attention behind him.  He turned, seeing Vick standing over Magnus with her teeth bared.  And her hackles standing on end.

“You felt that, didn’t you?” Shawn asked quietly.

Lassiter dipped his snout in a nod before meeting Shawn’s eyes.  Magic resonated between them deep in his bones.  A connection that strengthened the places where the Weakness had fed.

“Shawn!” Henry called out, breaking the moment.  Lassiter growled low in his throat as he saw the raider leader with him.

“Oh, hey, you survived,” Shawn answered cheerfully.  “Did you have fun?”

“More than I think you had down here,” Henry said, the tang of blood just noticeable from his drawn sword.  His other hand grabbed the raider, keeping him within weapon’s reach.

“And you made a friend.”

The raider scowled, the deep scars on his face now white with the magic gone.  

“We caught him at the top of the stairs.  Most of his crew ran when things went weird, so I figured someone should stick around to help with the cleanup.”

Lassiter bared his teeth at the coward.  Maybe what the room could use was a bit more mess…

“You would have done the same thing in my shoes,” the raider griped.  “I was just trying to survive.”

Before anyone could answer, Gus made himself known with a quiet, “Oh, wow.”  His wide eyes scanned the runes on the floor, his fingers twitching like he was dying to take notes.

“Gus, quill later, help me now.” Shawn turned back to the table where Buzz was starting to twitch.

A faint voice asked from the corner, “Is he going to be alright?”

Shawn answered the chained red-headed woman, “I don’t see any magic left on him.  How long have you two been seeing each other?”

“A little over a year…” the woman let out a wet sob.  “This is all my fault.  I didn’t want my father to know… If I’d just–”

Juliet’s sharp bark interrupted the woman’s guilt. They all knew who’s fault it really was.

Lassiter growled at the reminder, and he stalked towards the actual culprit.  Keys clinked behind him as the raider tried to prove he was helpful enough to keep alive.  Vick’s ear twitched back as Lassiter approached, anger radiating from her.  Lassiter lowered his head below hers, his own hackles rising as he smelled the wolf husk from Magnus.  

His submission wasn’t enough.  Vick snarled at him; the wizard had almost destroyed the pack.  And Lassiter had made him a part of it.

Lassiter took her judgment without complaint.  He’d seen a threat and had reacted; the consequences were his to bear.  

Though, if the consequences were that he had to be the one to kill the past-wizard… He certainly wouldn’t complain.

Vick snarled even louder, snapping her teeth at him.  He knew the rules; they didn't kill the ones they Turned.  

They could always make an exception…

Regretfully, Vick snorted in disagreement, cutting Lassiter’s deliciously bloody fantasies short.  They still didn’t know how the pack became cursed.  Their traditions existed for a reason.

Magnus moaned, as if he could hear them contemplating his demise.  

Henry’s voice was barely audible as he whispered, “What’s going on?”

“They’re trying to figure out what to do with Magnus,” Shawn whispered back.  “The chief doesn’t think they can kill him, since he was bit…”

Magnus groaned again, lolling his head to the side as his eyes opened.  And shrieking as he saw two pairs of fangs bared at him.

The coward.

“W-Wait, don’t.  I–” Magnus tried to scramble back before gasping as his bleeding hand hit the floor.  He clutched it to his chest as his eyes widened.  The feral song dipped, a strange stutter as it was pulled on like it was a different magic.  Nothing happened.  “No.  No, it can’t be…”  Magnus’ nose flared, and his scent soured.  “You foul beasts, how dare you debase me to such… such a lower lifeform!”

Lassiter growled, asking –begging– Vick to please let him finish the job.

Magnus’ haughty look twisted into a grimace as his good hand clutched his head.  Hopefully the Spirit song was clawing and biting inside.  He didn’t deserve to hear it sing.

Henry approached them, kneeling as he gave Vick a nod of respect.  “I understand you have traditions to keep.  But I know a certain village with its own way of taking care of things…”  He bared his throat, submitting to her authority.  “Our treaty goes both ways.  And he has blood to pay.”

“You can't– you can't be serious.  I will not be paraded around like a common criminal!”

A whine tried to rise in Lassiter's throat; it wasn't fair, letting the humans have all of the fun.  He swallowed the sound down.  It would keep their traditions, and he would follow his chief's lead.

Vick watched the blustering werewolf in front of them before turning to Henry.  She lowered herself in a short bow, giving him permission.

“No!  You don't understand, I can help you! I could control the Weakness, think what else I could–”

Lassiter lunged forward, snarling at the traitor.  He'd had his chance to help the pack, and he'd chosen his self interest instead. He didn't get to beg now.  Another rush of energy flowed through him; he wanted to bite, and tear, and claw…

“Dad,” Shawn called out.  He tossed over the rope that had been used on Buzz.  “Pretty sure he won't come quietly.”

“Like you would know anything about that,” Henry replied immediately, like it was a reflex.

Shawn tossed his hands in the air in exasperation.  Even then, he was careful to not move his feet and accidentally step on the woman who was cradling Buzz on the floor.  His ears twitched as she stroked them, the only sign of life in his otherwise still form.

“How dare you!” Magnus screeched, pulling Lassiter’s attention back to the threat.  Henry was looping the rope around Magnus’ hands, indifferent to his futile strugglings.  “I could have been a god!  Every knee would have bent before me; you have no right–”

“I don’t suppose I could gag him?” Henry asked Vick.  

Vick’s snout wrinkled in disdain as Magnus squawked indignantly.  The pack didn’t want him.  She turned and walked away, leaving him to his fate.

“I could give you money!  I could give you power!  I could– mmph!”

Lassiter refused to look away from the glorious sight as Henry used Magnus’ own cape to stop the sludge coming from his mouth.  

He wasn’t the only one to enjoy the display.  The raider spat on the ground, growling under his breath, “Good riddance.”

“That’s disgusting,” Gus informed him.

“Didn’t you help Woody cut apart monsters right where you’re standing?” Shawn asked.

“That’s a different kind of disgusting.”

“How many kinds are there?”

“How long do you have?”

“I still can’t believe you managed to take out two of my men…” the raider grumbled, his lips curling in disdain.

“Do you want to know something?” Shawn asked with a predatory grin.  “Your boss is safe because he’s a werewolf. You, on the other hand…”

If Lassiter was in human form he would have kissed him.  His mate’s magic resonated with his growl as he stalked towards the enemy that he could actually do something about.  

The raider’s eyes grew wide as he faced the consequences of his actions.  “Wait, wait!  I didn’t do anything to you!”

He led a raid against the werewolves, threatened Lassiter’s mate, helped the wizard…

“I can help!” the raider bargained desperately.  “I’ll go with them to the village, tell them what Magnus did.  We’ve been with him for months, and we didn’t want to deal with the wolves, we just didn’t have a choice, the magic–”

“Enough,” Henry called out.  Vick followed it with a quick bark that pulled Lassiter up short.  His teeth yearned to dig into the raider’s throat; why wasn’t he allowed to do anything fun?

“You’ll testify?” Henry asked.

“Yes!  Yes.  Anything, please!” the raider answered as several wolves crowded behind him, stopping his retreat.

“You’ll be put on trial too.  You attacked our allies.”

The raider swallowed thickly, looking terrified enough to urinate and reek up the whole room. “Fine.  I’ll take my time in the stocks.  Just get me away from here.”

Lassiter whined, staring at Vick with pleading eyes.  Surely at least a bit of maiming would be alright…

She only had to bare her teeth for him to know his answer.  The humans would see that justice was done.

He liked justice.  He just liked justice with blood more…  Lassiter sighed and stalked past the raider, snapping his teeth at just the right time to watch the man jump.  

Henry led Magnus towards the stairs and said, “We need to go if we want to reach the village before nightfall.  Are you coming?”

“Yes!” the raider squeaked out as he sprinted after them.  Vick sent several of the least injured wolves with them with one last warning growl.

A cold shiver ran down Lassiter’s spine as the smell of the humans lessened, the echo of a man who knew he was being led to his death.  He snorted at the feeling; Magnus had tried to destroy the pack.  He deserved all the village could give and worse.

Shawn let out a sigh, his whole body slumping now that the threat was gone.  He’d fought well; it was easy to forget he was only human.  Lassiter nosed Shawn’s hand; he’d give some of his Strength if he could.  

“Thanks,” Shawn said, his voice low, sounding odd without his usual energy.  “But I think a good night’s sleep might be the only thing that will work… I don’t think there’s a single part of me that doesn’t hurt.”

“You’re hurt?” Gus asked in alarm.  “I’ve told you, time and time again–”

“I know, I know.  Tell you if I’m hurt or you’ll make sure I’m hurt,” Shawn agreed.  “But no, I’m not hurt.  Or, well, I guess I hurt everywhere… And I swear that I can smell the walls.  That’s weird, right?”

"What, you couldn't smell them before?"

"Right. Wrong person to ask..."

Lassiter sniffed the air, smelling the constant damp and musty smell of the castle, along with the dusty smell of the stones surrounding them.  It wasn’t just their magics that had combined.  He was able to sense things he couldn’t before, Shawn could smell things he couldn’t before…  It should probably disturb him more than it did.

Shawn caught his eye, giving him a small smile of understanding.  The wolf song and the sparkles twisted tighter together in a hypnotic dance, their edges blending together.

A happy thumping echoed at the base of Lassiter’s spine, and they both looked over to see Juliet sitting and wagging her tail against the cobblestones.  Her lips curled up even more at their attention, and she panted happily at their bond.  Lassiter let out a sigh.  He was never going to hear the end of this…

Juliet huffed at his priorities and trotted over to him.  Happiness wasn’t something to be sighed at.  And if he wouldn’t celebrate, then she’d do it for both of them.  

She’d also make sure he took care of himself… Juliet sniffed at his side, and the bleeding wound twinged, reminding him it was still there.  

He grumbled and tried to angle his body away; he wasn’t Weak.  He’d heal.  

Juliet just traded a look with Gus, both of them commiserating over having stubborn friends.

The pain in Lassiter’s side radiated inward in a deep ache that siphoned his energy away.  His body grew heavy as Vick settled the silent dispute with a soft growl.  Their healer wasn’t with them, and Lassiter’s fur was matted with dried blood.  He needed to rest.

But he didn’t want to rest… He was finally strong.  A withering stare from his chief had Lassiter reluctantly lowering his haunches to the ground.  It felt… nice.  To take the weight off of everything.  

Maybe he could find a way to lay down without it being obvious…

Shawn groaned as he sat next to him, his hand automatically coming up to run through Lassiter’s fur.  The urge to lay down grew louder at the soothing touch.  The fight was done.  He didn’t need to be on guard anymore.

“We did it,” Shawn said quietly, the words only meant for them.

Lassiter leaned into him, feeling the truth echo in his bones.  The Weakness was gone; the pack was safe.

He finally gave into the urge, laying down and resting his head on Shawn’s knees.  There was more to do: celebrations to be had, losses to be mourned, lives to be returned to normal… But for now, they’d done it.  He and his idiotic human had done it.

Lassiter closed his eyes, relaxing in the comfort of the fingers running through his fur.  They could rest now.

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful day as the pack walked to the village for an early re-supply.  Birds sang in the trees, flowers sent their sweet scent through the undergrowth, and when Shawn strained his Sight he could just barely sense a large worm burrowing deep beneath them.  It was like a fairy-tale brought to life; the utopia of a happy ending once the villain had been defeated.

They crested a hill, and Shawn tensed as the village came into sight.  Real life wasn’t like fairy-tales.

The wall was still collapsed, showing the destroyed buildings within.  Several fighters patrolled the gaping wound, keeping an eye out for new trouble.  A pile of cut logs laid nearby, proof that rebuilding was already underway.  Hopefully it would be fast enough.  The world didn’t wait for people to be ready before sending the next danger.

The world also didn’t forget who was a threat.  The hero of stories was always welcomed home with banquets and celebrations in the streets.  The hero didn’t usually worry if he’d even be allowed through the front gate.

“I can not wait for some real cooking,” Gus said with a pep in his step.  “I’m buying as many herbs and cheeses as my bag can carry.  And then I’m going to eat until I’m ready to burst.  And then I’m going to sleep, and do it all over again.”

Shawn smiled and tried to play his part.  “I’m happy for you, finding your true love.”

“I expect you to be there with me.  Saving the village has to be good for at least one feast.”

“I’m not sure it counts as saving the village when it was our fault they were attacked in the first place…”

“Well it should.”  Gus’ expression softened as he saw his enthusiasm wasn’t shared.  “Henry won’t let them keep you out.  And they’ll remember that you helped defend them.”

“With my magic…”

Besides, Shawn hadn’t heard from Henry in the week since the curse had been broken.  Maybe he didn’t want to deal with Shawn either…

Gus thought for a moment before snapping back to his enthusiastic persona.  “You know, I think we can use this.”

Shawn sighed; it was easier to just play along.  “Yeah?”

“Yep.  They know you’re magic… which means they know you have something worth selling.”

“...Seriously?  You’re just using me to get even more food?”

“No,” Gus said with overexaggerated sincerity.  “I’m using you to get us more food.  And” –he paused for effect, his finger held in the air–  “nothing says you have to tell the truth.”

Shawn couldn’t stop his real grin at the thought.  “You are evil.”

“I am cunning ,” Gus corrected.  “So how much do you think we can freak Jimmy out?”

“I might not even have to lie for that one…”  The idea of scaring the man who’d mocked Gus for years was definitely an intriguing thought.  “Think he’d believe me if I said he was haunted?”

Lassiter called over his shoulder, “You’ve clearly never seen a haunting before.”

He slowed to walk next to them, his piercing eyes still scanning for threats.  They’d barely seen each other since the wolves had transformed back to humans.  Shawn hadn’t been able to watch this time; the magical draining had had a high cost.  He’d barely made it to his and Gus’ room before sleeping for a day and a half straight.

Juliet had posted herself at Lassiter’s door and hadn’t allowed anyone in or out unless it was to bring food.  The yells from their fight when Lassiter tried to leave the first time had been audible through the whole keep.  It was obvious who'd won when Juliet sauntered down the stairs an hour later and Lassiter wasn’t anywhere in sight.

The rest had done him good.  He was barely favoring his side and his limp was completely gone.  And the sun was hitting his hair just right to make it shine like the king he was…

Lassiter glanced over, clearly wondering why Shawn hadn’t asked about the ghost yet.  “What?”

“Nothing.  Just admiring the view.”

It was definitely a better use of his time than worrying about the village.  Unfortunately, that time was short.  Shawn’s stomach flipped as the pack stopped in front of the gate.  Was it good or bad that Dennis was on duty again?  Getting into the village meant being in the village…  A warm hand slid into Shawn’s, lending him strength.  

“If they try anything, I'll rip them limb from limb,” Lassiter promised in a low voice.  

Shawn believed every word.  

Dennis tipped his helmet in respect.  “Hail, fellows.  Well met.”

“Hail,” Vick answered while baring her throat respectfully back.  “We ask for safe entrance to your village.”

“It is granted.  The headman wishes to see you, Chief.  Your aid is being requested in rebuilding our defenses.”

“We have come prepared to render that aid.  Assuming the headman is willing to adjust our trade this month in return.”

“I’m sure he is willing to find an arrangement that will be acceptable for everyone.”  Dennis stepped to the side.  “You are welcome here.”

Vick gave a small bow, finishing the ritual.  Dobson immediately stalked past them, growling at Dennis.  “The brothel still standing?”

“Uh…” Dennis just blinked as he processed the question.  Dobson snapped his teeth in aggravation and Dennis flinched before pointing to a mostly intact building.  “They had to move, but they’re in business.”

“Thank the spirits.” Dobson stalked towards the indicated building, not changing course for anyone who happened to walk in his way.

Dennis stared after him before looking back at the pack, his eyes meeting Shawn’s.  The spiky sense of fear lessened and he gave them a wave.  “Hello, Shawn.  Hello Gus!”

“Hello, Dennis,” Shawn answered.  At least one villager didn’t hate him.

“Shawn, your father said he wanted to see you.”

… At least one villager didn’t hate him.  Shawn could only nod in thanks, his hand tightening in Lassiter’s.  They stepped through the gate together.

The smell hit a moment later.  The village smelled like sweat, children, iron, and booze.  Shawn cringed away from the overwhelm as he covered his nose.  “Oh my gods... is this what it’s always like?”

“Yes,” Lassiter and Gus answered in unison.

Having a super sniffer was not fun.  At all.  Shawn groaned, the smell of dung and perfume and baked goods all competing for his attention.  “It reeks.”

“It’s humans,” Lassiter said, annoyance twisting through the feral song.

But Shawn could See deeper than that.  He wasn’t the only one dealing with a new sense in a crowd of people.  A familiar fabric of emotions and thoughts brushed at the edge of his Sight, promising him the stories of anyone he Looked at closer.  

Lassiter rolled his shoulders, like he was trying to shed an itchy cloak.  “Why do they all have to feel so much?”

“They’re humans,” Shawn answered.  It was nice to not be the only one suffering.

Gus joined them in that suffering just a minute later when his mother appeared, a deep crease between her eyebrows as she tutted over her son.  “You look exhausted, are you being treated well? Are you eating enough?  Just look at the state of your clothes…”

Gus shot Shawn a panicked look and shook his head urgently.

Shawn walked faster into the crowd as he called back, “We'll see you later tonight!”

He had to deal with his own family.  He was not getting dragged into another family’s drama.  Gus would forgive him.  Eventually.

A spike of danger shot through him as Lassiter snapped his head around with bared teeth.  An older lady glared back at them.  She was the miller’s wife, a hard woman who could drink most men under the table before secretly handing out sweets to nearby children.  She’d been one of the first to welcome Henry and Shawn to the village.  Her glare grew as her hand rose in the symbol to ward off evil.

Lassiter growled, and Shawn pulled him away before any blood was spilled.  The fear wasn't unexpected; it was fine.  He just had to come up with something witty to say to make that clear.  He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

He Felt more glares on them.  Nothing witty came.

“Humans always fear the pack,” Lassiter said after another warding sign was shot their way.

“Sure.  That's definitely why they're afraid…”

“You're part of the pack now. So yes it is.”

The glares continued as they made their way through the village.  The man who’d fallen down the well when he was a child and Shawn had been the one to find him.  The woman who used to flirt with him whenever he bought food from her.  The child who just a month ago had begged him for stories about monsters.  The man who Shawn had accidentally told an inappropriate joke about and had lost him his job…

To be fair, Ken would have probably been glaring regardless of Shawn’s magic.

Shawn let out a sigh of relief when they reached Henry’s house.  And by the gods’ bones, he'd never thought those two things would ever be linked.

The door opened before they could knock, and Henry gave them an appraising look.  “Shawn.”

“Dad,” Shawn answered warily.  Was he about to be welcomed home or given a blistering lecture?

“Commander,” Lassiter said with a respectful nod.

Henry didn’t return the nod.  “So this is what you actually look like.”

They were fighting, then.  Henry could talk bad about him all day long, but he didn’t get to disrespect Lassiter.  “It’s one of the ways he looks.”

“He’s not quite what I had in mind for you…”

Lassiter raised his head proudly.  “I am Adjunct of the pack, second in command to the chief.  I can shoot a rabbit at 600 paces, run alongside a galloping horse, and I’ve killed seventeen men.  I can provide for and protect your son.”

Gods, he was so sexy when he was bragging.

Henry just raised a skeptical eyebrow.  “That’s quite a list.  What made you pick Shawn?”

Shawn’s mood soured and he translated, “You mean why did he settle for me?”

“He broke the curse, when no one else could,” Lassiter answered, his wolf scent growing.  “He put his life on the line for the pack.  He killed for the pack.” His voice lowered in a threat.  “We protect our own.”

It was only through years of experience that let Shawn see the begrudging admiration in Henry’s eyes.   “I suppose he could have picked worse.”  Henry stepped back, clearing the way into the house.  “Come on it; the food’s getting cold.”

One thing Shawn would never deny was that his father was a good cook.  The beef and vegetable stew was better than anything Woody had made all month, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed a good loaf of bread.  The conversation continued as they ate, and Henry caught them up on what had happened when he’d returned to the village.

The raider leader had gotten off easy, just a few days in the stocks.  Magnus… not so much.  The village didn’t take kindly to being ripped apart.  So they’d ripped him apart in return.  Shawn had never seen a drawing and quartering before.  Henry’s colorful descriptions just made him even more curious.

The next bite of the perfectly baked bread turned to burnt char.  What if the villagers decided to punish the other magic user who was involved?  Shawn didn’t want to see a drawing and quartering that close.

“Limb from limb,” Lassiter reminded him, his low growl wrapping around Shawn’s soul like a warm blanket.  He gave Henry a warning look.  “If the village attacks a member of the pack, they attack the whole pack.”

“Technically, Magnus was part of the pack,” Shawn couldn’t help but point out.

“He was Turned.  He wasn’t pack.”

“We keep our treaties,” Henry said neutrally.  He looked down to stab another piece of beef as he added, “And I oversee all executions and arrests. None" –he glanced at Shawn– “of the pack is in danger in this village.”

Shawn swallowed against a lump in his throat.  Had Henry ever defended him like that before?  “Thank you.”

“Are you sticking with archery?” Henry asked without acknowledging the thanks.  “I see you don’t have that bow or your sword.  Are you armed at all?”

Of course Henry couldn’t just let a good moment be.  “I’m surrounded by wolves.  Isn’t being armed redundant?”

The villagers already thought he was dangerous with his magic.  They didn’t need more reasons to be wary.

“Never rely on someone else,” Henry lectured as he pointed his knife at Shawn.  “You should always be able to defend yourself.”

“He has three knives hidden on him,” Lassiter cut in before Shawn could snap back.  “I’m frankly astonished that you managed to train knife throwing without him losing a hand.”

“He trained himself on that one,” Henry corrected.  “Weapons aren’t useful if you throw them away.”

And it’d be really nice if they’d stop talking over him.

“It was to impress girls,” Shawn whispered theatrically to Lassiter, taking back attention the only way he knew how. He flexed his arms, forcing a grin at the twin glares pointed his way.  For the moment, life was as it should be.  “Maybe I should get a battle axe.  It’d show these beauties off even more.”

Lassiter’s voice was dry as he turned back to his food.  “It’s just as unimpressive as last time you did that…”

“You’re no fun.”

Henry continued on topic like the tightass he was.  “Shawn, I’m serious.  Bad equipment can get a fighter killed.  The only thing I know for sure is that you have a sword that hasn’t been sharpened in months.  And that you keep leaving behind.  So would you please tell me if you need a bow or not?”

“His skills are more useful on the ground,” Lassiter answered.  “Our defenses are fortified, but there’s still weaknesses.  Having someone who can sense hidden fighters can turn the tide of a fight.”

Henry nodded, his shoulders pulling back as he fell into his commander role.  “So skirmishes, potential tight quarters, and sentry duty.  Sword with knife backup, a shield wouldn’t be amiss…”

And they were still talking over him.  “I hate shields."

“They keep you alive.”

“They’re big and heavy and make it hard to move or do anything.”

“You don’t get a say in this,” Henry snapped in authority.

“Actually, I do,” Shawn snapped back with just as much force.

“We’ll buy him armor,” Lassiter cut in, his hand on Shawn’s leg keeping the fight at bay.  “Mobility will be important; it’s a big keep.  Helmet and gambison.  I will make sure he wears them.”

Henry gave the offer thought.  “You’ll make sure he keeps the sword sharpened too?  I just got him a new whetstone.  I guarantee he hasn’t touched it.”

“I have too,” Shawn lied out of his ass.  “And I can take care of myself, you–”

“Deal,” Lassiter said with a definitive nod.

“Good.  Make sure you go to the blacksmith next in case he needs to make the helmet.”

Shawn glared and snapped out, “Didn’t you forget he hates us?  With Francine and all…?”

The blacksmith’s daughter had made her choice while nursing Buzz back to health.  Unfortunately, when she went to the village to declare she wasn’t marrying the man her father had chosen, he didn’t take the news well.  Tears had run down her bruised cheeks as she’d told of being thrown out of her house.  And of her father cursing the pack as he yelled she was too defiled by evil magic to stay.

Buzz had stayed at the keep with her.  There would probably be another wedding by the next full moon.

“He doesn’t like you, but he owes me,” Henry said.  “Drop my name and, just… try to not annoy him too badly.”

“Can I do it just a little badly?”

Lassiter cut in.  “The food is good.  You make your sires proud.”

Like Henry knew anything about being proud…

“Thank you.”

The meal continued with the conversation always on the edge of an argument.  And Shawn grew more and more frustrated.  It was a fact of life that no matter what he did, Henry would find a reason for it not being good enough.  Why had Shawn thought this time would be any different?  He’d only managed to save the pack and the village and the surrounding areas and maybe even the whole world… And yet his father kept treating him like a kid who had no idea which direction to face on a horse.

After the food was finished and one last barbed insult was thrown, they left the house.  A guard walking past immediately shied away, his hand coming up to ward against evil.  Something sharp jolted through Shawn’s gut, making him regret the last bite of bread.  He’d helped that man find his mother’s necklace…

And now he was looking at Shawn like he was a rat to be extinguished.  Shawn turned away and saw Henry standing in the doorway.

He’d seen the gesture.

And he’d said nothing.

A band of ice constricted around Shawn’s heart, the short distance between them stretching to a thousand paces.  Why would Henry disagree; he’d always hated Shawn’s magic.  He’d always thought Shawn was a disappointment.  He was probably happy that the whole town could see it too.  The curse of a son that he’d had to put up with for over twenty years.

Screw.  Him.

Shawn snapped around and stalked towards the market.  He’d get his stupid helmet, then he’d get out of this stupid village, and then his father would never have to worry about his stupid son again.  He was done.

“Shawn, stop!”

Years of training took over and Shawn’s body listened to the order, even as his mind screamed.  Couldn’t Henry even give him the dignity of being able to walk away?

“I didn’t… You don’t… What I mean is…”

Henry never stumbled over his words like that.  Curiosity had Shawn turning back around.  Henry looked conflicted, his mouth moving without any words coming out.  He finally groaned and tapped his head.   “I can’t.  Just… Look.”

The world stopped again.  Henry never let Shawn See him.  He’d made damn sure of it years ago.  “Seriously?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

Just the offer was enough to thaw the band wrapped around Shawn’s heart.  Henry actually wanted him to use his magic?  And he trusted Shawn with whatever he’d see?

Shawn let out a breath, and Henry nodded, acceptance radiating from his eyes.  Shawn let every other feeling fall away as he Looked closer.

Henry couldn’t rebuke his guard for the gesture; he would lose their respect.  But it didn’t mean he accepted the action or its underlying meaning.  Magic was dangerous, having magic even more so.  It wasn’t the life he’d wanted for his son. But Shawn had risen to the challenge.  And Shawn had finally found something bigger than himself to fight for.  His mother would be glad to see his gift being used so well.

Henry was glad to see Shawn’s gift being used so well.  He was glad to see Shawn happy.  And he was glad Shawn had found someone who accepted him.

He was proud of his son.

Awareness filtered back to Shawn as he stared at his father.  Henry stared back, not hiding anything.  Shawn’s breath hitched; how long had he been waiting to hear that?

Henry’s voice was rough as he broke the silence.  “Next month, if you come with the pack… I’ll make that fish you like.  Try not to die before then.”

“Uh-huh,” was all Shawn could answer.

Henry went back into the house without another word.  Gods bless his mornings and evenings for a fortnight to come.  Shawn did not want to keep talking after something like that.

“Are you alright?” Lassiter asked in concern.

Shawn just nodded.  He was so alright that he’d probably scream if he tried to say something.

The feral song trilled in quiet amusement at him being speechless for the first time since Lassiter had met him.  In the same exact spot they were standing now.

Shawn’s back itched as he Felt another villager skirt around him.  Lassiter looked back at the house before saying, “I think I understand more why you’re the way you are…”

“Devilishly handsome and carefree?” Shawn mouth said for him as his mind added more.  Outcast of the village, troublemaker, always too much…

“Reckless, defiant…” Lassiter stepped closer, and Shawn stared into the eyes of a fellow predator.  “Dangerous.”

“Most people don’t think those are good.”

Lassiter leaned in close enough for Shawn to feel the warmth from his breath. “I’m not people.”

He was right; he wasn’t.  He was so much more.  An angry growl, snapping teeth, fur standing on end.  A self-satisfied smirk, a sharp retort, an arrow finding its target.  A man doing whatever was necessary for his pack.  A wolf limping on when most sane men would stay down. 

Shawn ran his hand through Lassiter’s thick hair as he asked, “A month ago you proposed on this spot.  Do you regret it?”

Lassiter growled deep in his throat and answered without words, his beard soft as fur as their lips met.  Their magics howled, twisting their minds together as butterflies burst in their chests.  They were one.  Their fingers tangled in their hair, their arms wrapped around their shoulders, their bodies pressed closer… The howl sang of strength and determination and the promise of adventure ahead.  Pure acceptance, with all of its sharp edges.

The magic tapered as Shawn pulled back, panting for breath.  “Wow.  Is that a werewolf thing?”

“No,” Lassiter answered, just as breathless.

The air between them grew thick as Shawn’s gaze slid from Lassiter's bewitching blue eyes to his intoxicating lips. He needed more.

Heat pooled in their abdomens as their lips found each other again, the feral need growing with the howl.  Nails dug into their backs, fire burned in their veins, teeth scraped against their skin.  Lightning in a bottle, sparking with every touch.  How much more would it be when their bodies were one?

They needed to go.  They needed to go right now.  Their first time needed to be in their room.

Their room.  

Lassiter pulled away this time, rasping against Shawn’s lips, “Home.  Now.”

Shawn didn’t waste any time, practically pulling Lassiter through the market.  He didn't care about the stares on their back anymore; the humans didn’t matter.  They always feared the pack. He stopped at the gate, pulling Lassiter in for one more kiss where everyone could see.

This was their mate.  And their love was Strong.

Chapter Text

The keep was quiet, with most of the pack still at the village.  Juliet rested her hand on the cool stone wall and soaked in the rare moment of peace.  

The wolf song hummed in contentment, the notes clearer than it had ever been during the Weakness.  The smells were sharper too: the earthy dampness of the castle, the faint sweetness of nearby flowers, the burning logs in the fireplace…  As she focused, she could also hear the cracking of the fire.  And a low voice singing near it.

Juliet smiled at the sound, and her feet drew her closer without thought.  She hadn’t heard that voice sing in years…

“I dwelt alone in the wild woods, and loved all secrets solitudes…”

Juliet peeked through the great hall doorway to see a sight that made her heart dance.  Lassiter was sitting on a fur rug in front of the fireplace with Shawn sleeping against his shoulder.  One of his hands rested on Shawn’s knee while the other carded through his hair.  His low baritone voice resonated through the room.  “Oft would I fly from tumults far, and shunned where crowds of people are…”

Lassiter looked up, and Juliet's smile grew as his eyes narrowed defensively.  She wouldn’t ever not be happy to see him happy.  Even if he had a hard time showing it.   Shawn mumbled in his sleep, and Lassiter continued his song.  “O dearest, do not longer stay, seek we to live and love today…”

Shawn settled back into his deep sleep, and Lassiter’s face stayed soft as he petted his mate’s fur.  Juliet slowly backed away, giving the lovers their privacy back.  Life was rarely easy, and there was always danger around the corner.  It was moments like these which made it all worthwhile.

A final strain of song drifted through the open door, accompanied by the crackling fire.

“I cannot live without thee, sweet.  Time bids us now our love complete.”