Chapter 15 #2
When our noses meet, fireworks erupt inside me, and I sink even deeper into my wolf.
I nose my way down his throat with a pleased growl, and Julian huffs gently as he presses his body firmly against mine.
We move together, circling, scenting each other, and I’m dizzy with pleasure by the time Julian jumps back like a pup who wants to play.
I tilt my head, smiling internally. He nudges me, trying to get me to bite before he runs off into the woods.
Huffing, I snag the bag from the ground and follow after my mate.
Though he’s fast even at our relaxed pace, it’s easy to spot him.
The white fur I used to envy stands out against the greenery, like misplaced snowflakes in summer.
He’s beautiful, painfully so, and so clearly happy and at ease in his lands that watching him is like a dream. Taking pity on me, he soon circles back and pads alongside me, but all too quickly, his restlessness gets the best of him, and he’s off again.
You’re embarrassing us, Aiden, Max chides as he tries to push forward so he can run for us. You’re moving like molasses.
Me? I huff. I’m dealing with what I got, which, unfortunately, is you.
We both know I’m teasing, but Max still growls with offence. Drop the bag and—
I hit a clearing and drop it before charging after my mate. Julian notices and perks up before he bolts, his white fur quickly becoming a blur. Despite his best efforts to leave me in the dust, I manage to keep pace.
It dawns on me, as the wind blares in my ears, that this is the first time either of us has had a proper run since our coronation.
We were supposed to run under the full moon as new alphas with our packs, but the whole mate thing had made that impossible.
This feels like making it up. Even though the blazing sun is nothing like the cool warmth of Goddess’s moonlight, and it’s quiet without hundreds of thundering paws racing behind us, it’s still somehow perfect.
Better, because I don’t have to think about a thing besides my mate.
I only have to give in to my instincts, so I do, and Julian and I run for what must be hours before my hunger makes itself known and redirects my focus.
Beyond the borders promised bigger game, deer and elk, but I know how Julian feels about leaving the packlands, so I tamp down that urge. Instead, I keep my ears open, and it’s not long before they twitch, picking up on a set of rapid heartbeats that could only belong to hares.
I slow, and Julian looks at me for only a second before he heads east while I continue north.
Separated, I worry only for a moment about hunting without a pack link, but Julian already seems to know what to do.
In the strangest way, I can feel him. Even with yards between us, I somehow know exactly where he is, and I move accordingly so that I’m ready when he drives my prey straight to me.
We work like a unit, and when I spot a blur of white to my right, I lunge, sinking my teeth into the startled hare. The animal twitches between my teeth, but it soon stills as my canines drive deeper, its fate decided.
Blood pounding in my ears, I glance at Julian only to find him watching me with dilated eyes full of something I can’t quite place. I silently thank him before I dig into my meal.
Starved as I am, it doesn’t take long to devour it whole until there’s nothing left but a smear of blood staining the grass.
Sated, I turn to my mate, who is still staring.
I can’t tell if he enjoyed it, but the bond thrums with something odd now.
Whatever it is, he doesn’t give me a chance to figure it out as he trots on.
I follow at his side and nudge him gratefully when I spot the stream he’s leading me to.
Eager to get clean and have a drink, I dive right in, the warmed water perfect in the height of summer.
I sigh as I wet my coat while Julian only chuffs from the bank.
I splash him, but he doesn’t take the bait. Next time.
We drink, and I clean myself until all evidence of our hunt travels down the stream. Too tired to run, we take our time heading back to where I’d dumped my bag. Before long, we find the open clearing that looks like a piece of Goddess’s Plains.
I call on my shift when we find the bag, and by the time I’m on two feet, Julian’s tucked behind a tree again.
“I’ll toss it to you when I’m decent,” I shout around my chuckles. I get a thumbs up for my trouble.
Too wet for anything else, I tug on my boxers and fix my shades over my nose before I toss the bag at Julian’s feet. I drag myself to the centre of the field before I collapse and offer my damp body to the midday sun. I could fall asleep right here.
“You packed my book,” Julian says, strolling towards me, fully dressed and holding his latest read.
“Yeah,” I mumble while he crosses his ankles before sinking into the space beside me. “I know how you bookworms need words to wiggle.”
“As long as you know,” he replies with a soft laugh.
He peels open his book, and I know I’m about to lose him, so I blurt out the one thing still lingering on my mind. “Did you enjoy it?”
“The hunt?” He fiddles with a page. “Yeah, I … I didn’t think I would, but I really enjoyed it. It was nice … helping you.”
I’m sure my smile blinds Goddess herself.
“What about you?” he asks nervously.
“I loved it,” I admit, and a smile illuminates his entire face.
He lifts his book to hide his a second later. “Good,” he says from behind his barrier. “That’s good.”
“It is good,” I agree, and I leave it at that, deciding just this once not to tease him.
While he reads, I use my bag as a pillow and bask in the sun. It’s just the right temperature, and with only the wind and the creatures in the woods to listen to, I find myself noting the pros of the quiet of Julian’s pack.
Last night, in those first few hours, the quiet had felt almost unnerving, especially for a pack of its size.
Not silent, but subdued. There was the usual noise—voices, the occasional howl—but that was it.
It was a stark contrast to my own lands, that are always bustling with some random fight or festivity.
It made me feel out of place to start with, but now, the difference isn’t so bad.
Not that I’d ever tell Julian that. His head’s big enough as it is.
Entertained by my thoughts, it takes a while before I notice his weighty stare, but when I do, it pricks my skin. I’m smiling before I open my eyes. “Are you staring at me, Jewels?”
My grin grows when I glance at my mate and find his cheeks warming.
“No,” he replies smoothly. “I was staring at your tattoos, not you.”
His gaze flicks down as if to make a point, only for him to backtrack when they slip too low.
“I’ll let that slide today because I’m tired. Generous, aren’t I?”
“Benevolent, really.”
I snort, then glance down at the ink steadily overtaking my skin. I started getting them to hide the scars, but after the first few, I discovered that I liked the way they look on me.
“Why this one?” Julian asks, closing his book to point at the small black koi fish swimming amongst all my ink. Apparently, he’s done with playing pretend. “Why a koi fish?”
“They’re cool fish.”
“What about the gas mask?” His nose wrinkles as he eyes it.
I laugh. “It looked cool, and I wanted it,” I reply, glancing down at the random tatt I’d gotten one night when I was way past drunk.
“And these words?” he asks, abandoning his book completely to wiggle closer. He traces the cursive lines over my heart. “Are these—” He squints. “Is this The Alpha’s Code?”
I nod, and he blinks, his interest peaked. “The original code?”
“Yup, it was my first.”
The Alpha’s Code was first spoken long before it was ever written down, passed by word of mouth through countless generations until it was finally recorded in our oldest texts.
I doubt what we have now is perfectly verbatim, but the message endures—and I’ve always liked it, no matter how pretentious it sounds.
Honour thy kin, and stand for all; yet above all, stand for those who cannot stand themselves. Be brave, be merciful, and be steadfast in thy care.
Most alphas forget that last part, but it’s always been my favourite.
“It’s the only tattoo my Ma approves of,” I say, eyes rolling as I shift, “because, of course it is.”
His lips twitch before he points at another. “Tell me about this one.”
One by one, we go through the open portfolio of my tattoos, and I tell Julian the truth about most of them.
He listens intently, even for the ones he clearly doesn’t like very much, and gently traces his favourites with his fingers.
Each touch has pleasure racing up my spine and my body unwinding beneath the sun, a slave to Julian’s touch.
I slide my hand over his thigh, drawing small circles over his skin as we rest together.
“Would you ever get a tattoo?” I ask once we’ve gotten through almost all of them.
He yanks his hand away as if I’d pulled out a gun.
“No,” he declares, and I chuckle as he shakes his head adamantly. “It’s not for me.”
“I disagree,” I muse as I slide my hand over his, redirecting it to my chest. “I think you’d look good with ink.”
He pales slightly and quickly shakes his head again. “I can’t even imagine it. And if I did get one, my parents would try to cut the flesh out themselves.”
The mention of them sours his mood instantly. His shoulders slump and the brightness in his eyes dims like it had yesterday. I nudge his fingers, and he tries for a smile, but it’s not the same as the ones he’s been sharing all day.
“It’s fine,” he says, which I’m learning often means the opposite.
“You said there was more yesterday,” I say, while I smooth my fingers over his. “What was it?”