The Porcupine, the Wolf, and Their Human Omega (Omegas of Animals: SD #13)
Chapter One
Rafe
The forest was as quiet as I’d ever seen it. No birds chirping, leaves rustling, small animals running around in search of food as the weather warmed up. It felt so good to don my fur and get out under the trees. My wolf was hunting, not out of hunger but because it was what he liked to do, and so the two of us, in one furry body were having a pretty good time.
The snow in this area fell early and stayed on the ground most winters until at least March and sometimes May, which was what made Lake Tahoe such a popular ski resort. But this year, it had melted off in April, and the resorts had given up making snow a few weeks after that, handing their lifts over to mountain bikers and people who came just to ride the gondola up for the view.
But right now, the winter sports tourism had ended and with school still in session for most families, the summer activities were just amping up. It made for a perfect time to run on four legs undisturbed. Sure, I kept away from the resorts and lodges and nowhere near the sparkling, clear lake, but in another month, there would be so many people on the trails, a wolf sighting might cause an uproar.
I hadn’t had time to let my wolf out in weeks, studying for finals at the university down in the valley, and I still had things to do before I was free for the summer. But the drive up was short, the day was gorgeous, and my wolf was not going to let up on his demands until we spent a few hours in the wild.
Coming out here from the Midwest for college had been the best move I’d ever made. I had a great scholarship that covered enough I only had to work one side job to make ends meet, the school offered all the courses I wanted, and the Sierra Nevada was pure magic. I’d pointed that out to my wolf, telling him if he’d let me alone long enough to finish up the semester, we’d be free to explore more of the real wilderness, places few hikers and no tourists ever made it to. Smaller lakes, the glacier, and hidden glens.
So we’d made a deal. One afternoon up above Lake Tahoe, then I would get back to work. After my last final, we’d disappear into the mountains until fall. Living mostly as my wolf and hunting was way less expensive than staying in an apartment all summer.
No matter how hard I’d fought the whole thing, now that we were out here, I couldn’t regret the break. I’d been so head-down, studying and attending lectures. And of course my part-time job. This shifter needed to blow out the cobwebs, and what better way than to run wild in the mountains?
Splashing through a stream, we paused to drink. In my two-legged form, I wouldn’t dare do that, no matter how crystal clear it appeared. Nobody liked parasites. But my wolf never seemed to be concerned, and he didn’t ask my opinion.
On a day like this, I wondered why I didn’t just walk away from the world inhabited by so many humans and live off the land. There were a few wolves who did, but everyone spoke of them as rogue. And while I was more independent than most, I was still a member of a pack in good standing, expected to return to the den after I completed my education.
I probably would. But I’d miss the Sierras.
But I’d enjoy it while I could. Coming to an overlook, I pressed through the scrub and out onto a flat boulder. Far below, the lake glinted, a few boats moving around, even one brave water skier being towed. That water was icy cold.
Sprawled on the boulder, I was struck again by the silence. What an odd day. Usually there was at least enough wind to hear it. The sky was even lacking in birds. So strange. Standing, we stretched and turned to return the way we’d come. By the time we got to where I’d left my clothes then back to the car and down the mountain, it would be dark. Which didn’t matter to my wolf or me in general—but driving down the highway, I couldn’t count on there not being some wild partiers or scaredy-cat flatlanders making bad choices. It had happened too often!
I stood up and breathed the air then tipped my muzzle up and howled at the sky. A faint whuff in reply caught my attention. There might be another wolf, shifter or not, around. Some natural wolves had been spotted in the area in the past few years, and while I was larger than most, I didn’t want to run into some male who thought I was a danger to his family. This was right in the middle of the season when pups were born and packs were quite protective of their babies.
It was one of their great qualities.
Still, I remained where I was for a time, listening for anything more. Then I leapt onto the slope below my boulder and started back the way I came. It was nice not being alone, especially if it didn’t lead to any issues.
And the wind shifted from southwest to northeast, and I stopped so fast I tumbled end over end downward before I could stop myself. Nobody had to tell me what the scent was that reached me.
Mate.
My wolf regained his footing and bounded back uphill but more to the east. He knew. I knew. We’d lived our whole lives for this moment. Fate had smiled on us and granted us a mate. Someone to share all of our future with. Whether that meant going back to my pack or to his no longer mattered because home lay where he did.
What would he look like? As a wolf or in two-legged form? Would he be a gray wolf or black? Tall or short? I’d love him no matter what, but I couldn’t wait to find out. My mate awaited me. We had to fly like the wind to get to him and not miss a single moment in his company.
He was farther away than I’d have guessed, from the strength of his scent. What if he’d been farther? I might have missed him and never connected with him at all.
By the time I heard him yip, we were out of breath with sore paws, but it was so worth it. Just on the other side of a thicket of vines and berry bushes. He smelled incredible, but as I closed in, another scent overtook the first, and horror encompassed me.
Blood.
My mate was bleeding, and I ran faster, heart thudding with exertion and fear, straight through the bushes, not caring about the sharp thorns that tore at my flesh. Was that what happened to my mate? That wouldn’t be so bad.
And then I saw him, slumped on the ground with blood pooling around his white chest. His fur was matted with it and flies circled him.
I grabbed control of my wolf and shifted, needing my hands, needing a way to stop the bleeding before it was too late. Dropping to my knees, I stroked his side, the trembling under my palm bringing tears to my eyes. “I’m here, mate. Can you shift? If you can, it might help.”
Of course, if he could have, he no doubt would have already…
“Mate, please.”
Golden eyes looked up at me, and I knew it was too late. Even as I tried to find the wound, to help him, those eyes dulled and he went limp. No…this was too cruel. Fate could not do this to me. To us. To anyone!
I buried him in the forest, in human form because when he died, he shifted, too late for it to help. Every year, I go back and clean weeds and debris from his hidden grave site. Ten years of missing someone I knew for less than a minute.
Some shifters never even got that.