Rift. (Rewritten in 2010)

Summer, Year Three (6th Moon)

"And so when is the young one going to be mated?"
Jara and Alex, eager for some time outdoors, had gone out with a group to help with the harvest gathering in the small barley fields close to the buildings of the compound. Alex had specifically asked for the barley fields, although he'd looked so serious at the request that Jara hadn't had the nerve to ask him why. They had been out since the gray of early morning, rotating teams on different pathways through the grain, and so Alex had been stuck for 45 minutes working next to absolutely the most talkative human he'd ever met in his life.

The man was a bit older than Alex - maybe close to forty-five, and had talked incessantly about his lits (he'd had three and they were all absolutely perfect), Alex's lit (he should remember to double their calcium after 6 months because wolfish cubs needed strong bones and most first time badis don't remember to do that and the doctors really ought to give better advice), Alex's age (30 was sooo very late to bear a first lit; surely Alex was concerned about his children's health, wasn't he?), the man's mate (the most forgiving and kind and well accomplished wolfish archer to ever enter BlackForest, although he came from SweetWater, where the winters were much milder and perhaps they should go back because all this cold air gives him a cough), Alex's mate (What a nice alpha Garron was, but had he been thinking about expanding BlackForest lately, because it really was going to get quite cramped with all the new lits coming in and certainly Garron should remember to think about that), barley (absolutely the best grain in the world for quick growth and harvest, even if it does require good and shallow soil), and anything else he could dream up until Alex was absolutely positively sure that if he heard another fucking thing about another fucking thing he was going to empty his basket over the man's head, storm off to find Garron and demand that he and his stupid accomplished little archer husband got a one way transfer out of BlackForest immediately.

Luckily, Jara reappeared moments before the breaking point, carrying a basket of grain on his hip. The older human took interest in him immediately.
"And is this him - your varon?"
Alex shot Jara a look of sympathy.
"Yes...this is Jara."
The older human was smiling cheerily at Jara now, who was doing his best to escape the attention, mostly by stepping sideways to duck behind Alex. Alex calmly stepped farther away.
"Jara! What a name! Hmph. Well, I suppose human names have gone out of fashion, then."
Jara stared blankly at the man.
"A bit quiet, isn't he?"
Alex, who was now focusing his full entity on harvesting, shrugged.
"Well, he'll have to change that if you plan to have him mated soon."
The air changed immediately. Jara dropped his shoulders, an act Alex had come to recognize as a signal of his discomfort. He also turned four bright shades of pink, the color coming out brightly through his olive tone.
"Jara is fine as he is for right now. He doesn't need to be mated."
The human looked confused, near shocked.
"You don't intend to have your varon bonded?" he cocked his head. "But why not? He'll be the only one his age going without - it will be terrible for him, all his friends going on to families and he still in a youth's position. Oh, you are going to have him mated, aren't you? That's the responsibility of the varon family, you know. Or can he not be mated?" the human peered over at Jara, who was desperately wishing to become invisible or at the least, have a hysterical episode and pass out in the grain. "He seems winsome enough. And he's of your name, so there's no problem there - what's wrong with him, then? Is he not viable?"
Alex stood up just in time to catch the look of pure mortification fleeting across Jara's face.
"Jara," he snapped, annoyance overcoming him, "is perfect as he is." his voice came as close to a growl as a human's could, and the older man seemed to finally take the hint.
Just then, the bells rang for the afternoon meal, and the man quickly gathered his basket and hat and went off in a huff.
Alex turned to Jara.
"Don't mind him, Jar - you're beautiful and perfect and when your time comes, any wolfe would be lucky to mate you."
Jara just shrugged and looked uncomfortable, as he was wont to do, and Alex turned to pick up his own basket. Timidly, the youth spoke.
"When will my time come, First Alpha Mate?"
Alex, unused to Jara addressing him so formally, wrinkled his brow. A few other betas brushed past them on their way indoors, each nodding politely to Alex.
"Whenever you are ready, Jara."
Jara twisted his fingers together.
"Alpha - "
"Maybe," Alex proposed as another group nodded to him as they moved past. "We could finish this conversation indoors, after the meal?"
Jara nodded obediently and silently placed his basket on his head.
Wondering what he'd missed, Alex watched his varon's back for a moment as he made his way through the grain, then balanced his own basket with the other, and was gone.

+++++

"I guess no one ever really did explain to you how things work here."
Garron spooned more soup into his mouth, setting down the spoon to break apart bread with two fingers.
"No - no one did, and I'll feel horrible if I fail at having a varon just because someone forgot to get me a copy of the manual."
"No no, it won't be anyting like that." Garron assured him. "You can't fail at having a varon - not yet, at least. Jara's just worried, I'm sure. He's already gained his age and you haven't even presented him with any prospects. I'm sure that's hard for him."
Frustrated, Alex pushed his plate away.
"This is what I mean! Gained his age? What does that mean? No one's ever told me these things." he sighed and Garron calmly swallowed his bread before continuing.
"Most varons are bonded by 21, birthing by 25 or so. The luckier ones have a mate picked out already by about 19 - that's when they get presented - introduced formally to society as viable and ready for bonding. How old is Jara again?"
"Nineteen this month."
Garron made a face.
"We might want to do it quickly, then, being the Alpha family and all..."
"What?"
"Well, it doesn't look good. If we wait too long, it could be a bit...unseemly." Garron wrinkled his nose. "Not an example, maybe, that we would want to present."
Alex sighed and put his head in his hands.
"I can't do this Alpha thing - I barely know what I'm doing as a regular Wolfish citizen, let alone a leader of the people." Alex shook his head. "You've got the wrong mate, Gar."
The wolfe smiled gently at his mate.
"Alexei, don't say that. I chose well. I always choose well, and I chose you. I love you, and you are doing a wonderful job. And things will get easier."
Alex groaned.
"I've just whelped a litter of puppies. My wolfe is pressuring me to adopt yet another litter - of children, this time - and now my varon, who I love, but is more trouble than all the rest put together, is in desperate need of a husband in six months or less. Nothing about this seems like it's getting any easier."
Garron laughed.
"Well, trust me, kitten, once you get the hang of it, things will be easy. Until the litter gets old enough to walk, that is."
Alex laughed, but then sobered.
"But seriously - how am I supposed to pick a mate for Jara, Garron? I feel like I barely know him. And I feel like I haven't taught him anything these past few months. He's only been tagging along while I try to live my life."
Garron got up from his chair and came around the table to his mate's side.
"The others will help you find his mate, and he'll learn by osmosis; don't worry. Just let him watch you - when you are alone, when you are with me - and it will help him learn how a beta should behave."
"So you think," Alex broke in, smiling slyly, "that I am a good example of how a beta should behave?"
Garron looked amused, but stymied. Then, making a decision, he settled on an answer.
"Kitten, you are perfect, in every way, and I am sure you will teach Jara well."
Alex smiled at his mate's non-answer.
"Fair enough. At least, I'll try."

+++++

After they ate, Alex's nurses brought the litter round for nursing and Damon and another beta, Ethan, came over to idle with him as he did so. Jara, who was still in school because of his culinary training, had lessons until the afternoon meal, and so Alex would have no access to him 'til then. By two, Damon had begun complaining that the lit was viciously kicking him, and so was guided by one of Alex's nurses to an empty bedroom to rest.

Ethan and Alex took up seats by the windows in the sitting room, one large sheet of paper between them, on which Ethan was both sketching and writing.
"So do you want to get started on seeking out a mate for Jara?"
Alex shrugged.
"This seems...forced. Shouldn't he just find one on his own? Some wolfe he likes and they fall in love?"
Ethan looked evenly at Alex.
"I don't know that he's really in a position to do that. I don't even know if you would want him to do that. There a number of wolfes in this compound just dying for a place in the Alpha line. Youth can muddle the mind, and I'm not entirely sure that Jara knows well enough which males to avoid. The results could be disastrous. He could ruin both himself and you and Garron in the process."
Alex frowned, but accepted this.
"I suppose. Alright."
Ethan watched his reaction.
"Perhaps we could explore some courting options..."
Alex raised both eyebrows in shock.
"Options? Courting options?? The only wolfish courting option I know is the kind where you get thrown over the back of a horse, break out of quarantine and go on the lam, then six months later you're waking up in the infirmary after your stolen vehicle failed 100 miles from Wolfe territory." he fixed an annoyed look towards he and Garron's bedroom. "I wasn't aware there were options much different than that."
Ethan laughed outright and Alex eased into a wry smile.
"Well, I guess we'll start with that, then." Ethan laughed.
Just then, Damon appeared in the doorway, seemingly wandering directionlessly into the room. Alex looked up at his approach.
"Hey, Day. Feeling better? Come join us."
Reaching over, he pulled another chair close to the table and looked back up at Damon. It was then that he noticed the peculiar look on Day's face, and the odd way he was holding his hand up in front of him.
"Day?"
To his right, Ethan was watching closely, his expression also changing.
"Alex, I think we should call Kriston." his voice was very shaky, and upon closer examination, Alex noticed that his hands, and also pants, were wet.
"Damon! What's wrong, what's going on?!"
Ethan was already on his feet, going to the call systems to ask for Kriston.
"I think my litter is coming...now."
"Now?!"
"Right fucking now."

+++++

Damon was splayed on a birthing table in the nursery section of the infirmary, with his mate rushing around him, trying to get him prepped and comfortable. Two nurses stood off to the side, watching vigilantly.
"Ris, you promised me!"
"Pup, you can do this."
"No, I can't!"
"Alex did it."
"'I'm not fucking Alex!" Damon took another series of deep breaths. Kriston squeezed his hand.
"Come on, puppy, you'll be alright."
"No, I won't."
Damon whined, took two deep breaths.
"Just breathe."
"Kriston?" Damon's voice was teary. "I'm scared."
Kriston swallowed and tightened his grip on his mate's hand.
"I know, love. But you'll be alright. You never let scared stop you before." he cast a desperate glance around the room. "How do you want to do this?"
"What?!"
"Do you want to stand?"
"What? Kriston, please - " Damon bit his lip, squeezing his eyes closed, and reached out for his mate. "Just do it now!" Kriston nodded and pushed his sleeves up. He helped Damon to move and slid him into a birthing position, knees up and legs open on the angled table. Another contraction struck and Day squeezed his eyes closed.
"Call Alex, OK? And Garron." Kriston nodded and a nurse nearby dashed off to follow his orders. Gently, Kriston began to massage his mate's stomach as Damon cried out with another contraction.
"Hey, love. It's almost time to work now, OK? This won't take long, but you have to stay with me through it, alright?"
Damon nodded, focused on his mate's face. Seconds later, another contraction, this time stronger, and Damon squeezed tight on his mate's wrist.
"Kriston!"
"I'm here, puppy." Kriston kissed his mate's furrowed brow, squeezed his hand, and settled himself between his spread legs.
"Are you ready?"

+++++

By the time Alex arrived, one puppy was already out and being bathed gently by the nurses standing to the side, and the second was in the midst of his entry into the world. Damon reached out for him immediately when he arrived.
"Sorry I took so long, Day, but I'm here now."
Damon keened softly.
"Just breathe, darling. Two are done already, three will be here soon. Alex moved to sit behind his friend, who was lying back on the sloped birthing table, straddling Damon and putting both of his hands into Day's. Garron, who wore a mask and had his hands dipped in blue, stood by Kriston, who still knelt between his mate's legs, sweating profusely.
"Third one, puppy. Push for me, darling. We're almost through."

The fourth came more easily than the first three, and Damon breathed a sigh of relief, but the fifth puppy was twisted sideways and Kriston struggled to correct him. The nurses stepped in to help, but by late afternoon, he still hadn't been born yet and Damon had faded almost out of consciousness.

"Figure something out!" Kriston snapped at an anonymous nurse.
Garron bit away his smirk, then stepped forward to lay one hand on his friend's shoulder.
"My First, they are working and your mate will be fine. This is a common problem, particularly with first births, and I assure you they are doing everything they can to ease your mate's discomfort."
Kriston whined and flicked an ear, looking over Garron's shoulder. Across the room, Alex was offering Damon pieces of ice with sugar.
"He's hurt. My mate is hurt."
Garron gave him a quick shake of the shoulder.
"He's only feeling fatigue, no pain now - they've given him something for that. And his life is in no danger. He will be fine. But your emotions will affect him, so if you cannot control yourself, wolfe, then you should leave. Your upset will only make this harder on him."
Garron waited, studying Kriston's face. "If you can manage it, go to him, soothe him, help him, and we can all be in our beds by the night meal. Can you?"
Kriston looked at his alpha, took a few deep breaths to retain his control, and strode purposefully across the room to his mate.
The nurses glanced up with some trepidation as he approached, but Kriston passed without comment and took up Alex's old position behind his birthing mate.


The doctors had only predicted five pups for Damon, but after the struggling fifth pup was out, Kriston swore he still heard a heartbeat. Sure enough, Damon remained in labor, and, three minutes later, the last and smallest of the litter was out. Damon lifted his head, checked on his entire lit, expressed the afterbirth, and was unconscious immediately, his head falling back onto Kriston's shoulder. The nurses checked him over, verified that he was, on the whole, without injury, and left Kriston to clean his mate. Garron and Alex helped to set the infants into beds lining the sides of Damon's bed before excusing themselves to leave the new family alone.

Kriston kissed his now-sleeping mate's forehead, cradling one of their children in his arms.
"Love you, puppy. More than life."

+++++

It had been four days since Damon had whelped, and Alex had agreed to go today to meet the children whom Garron had selected for their adoption.
When he stumbled out of the bathing rooms, still damp from his morning wash, Garron was already dressed, sitting in the entranceway, tail thumping noisily (and impatiently) on the fabric of his seat.
"Ready?!"
Alex gave him an odd look and wandered back into the bedroom to towel his hair down and dress.
When he reemerged, Garron seemed on the edge of a nervous episode, pacing the room by the door, casting occasional glares at Alex for taking so long. Somewhat enjoying this game, Alex took his time checking on the litter and nurses before once more rejoining his mate in the hall.
"Let's go."

+++++

In the large receiving room attached to the Children's Halls, three boys were gathered. They ranged in ages from five or so to twelve, and sat together, speaking sporadically, on the round sofa in the middle of the room. The youngest seemed engrossed in something he held in his hands. Alex watched them through the glass for a few moments.
"They're not my litter. They're not my children." he said, stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. Garron sighed.
"Yes, they are. Come on now, they've been waiting for you. You can't just leave them in there alone. They're going to think that you don't want them." Alex shook his head.
"I don't think this is going to work." He put emphasis on the middle word. Garron sighed again.
"Well, I know it will."
Alex exhaled heavily and Garron stroked his face.
"I'm sorry, darling. But they are children, and even if they're not ours by blood, they're ours by heart. They need someone to take care of them. They need us. Most of all, they need you. Please, will you just go in and say hello?" Alex looked at his wolfe, whose face had softened into one of pleading compassion. Alex gritted his teeth.
"Fine." Garron visibly relaxed. "But only for them, you understand? Not for you." Garron nodded.
"Whatever, just let's go. They're terrified enough as it is."
As they entered the room, all three boys jumped to their feet. The littlest hid what he'd been holding, piquing Alex's curiosity. He bent over, hands on his knees, and leaned into the little one's face. The boy had big, almost-black eyes, café-au-lait skin a bit lighter than Damon's, and unruly, tightly curled hair that was shiny black. His nose was slightly upturned, giving him an impish look, and the t-shirt he wore was several sizes too large for him.
"What's your name?" Alex asked, gently. The boy hesitated before answering.
"Malik." he whispered, shying away from Alex.
"That's a good name." Alex told him. "What've you got behind your back there, Malik?" Malik's eyes got bigger, and he backed away a little more, bumping into the sofa behind him.
"Neechego."
At hearing the boy speak Russian, Alex smiled.
"Proscba?"
"Show him, Mali." This from the oldest of the three. Gently, he prodded his small companion forward.
"Ya ne ckhochu." Alex's knees were beginning to ache, so he lowered himself down to the floor so that he could continue to be at eye-level with the boy.
"Why not?" The boy looked down at his feet.
"It's a present, but you might not like."
"Just show him, Mali, he'll like it." Malik looked trustingly up at the oldest boy, then back to Alex.
"'mK." Tentatively, he offered Alex his hand, in which was clasped a bunch of dandelions. Alex smiled and took the dandelions from Malik.
"Spasibo." The boy smiled, delighted with Alex's appreciation of his gift, and threw himself into his adopted badi's arms. Over the boy's head, Alex glared at Garron.
"Alright." he mouthed so that only Garron could see, "You got me."

+++++

After a few more introductions, Alex suggested that they all head back to their wing to get moved in. Garron looked sheepish for a moment, then admitted that he'd already had their things moved in to the empty rooms adjacent to the right side of their quarters that morning, when the kids had arrived. This earned him another glare from Alex, at which point he announced that he had to leave.
"Where're you going?" Alex queried, suspicious of his mate.
"We're missing the other three." He said, pulling Alex in for a hug, being careful not to squash Malik, who had gotten a ride in his Badi's arms. "Cubs, those - they're back down in the nursery, I'll bring them up this way so you can meet them." Garron laid a kiss on Alex's forehead before disappearing off down the hallway. Alex turned back to the kids.
"Well, I suppose we ought to get you guys fed, huh?"

+++++

Inside their rooms, Malik began to show signs of fatigue, so Alex called to have lunch brought up, then drew the little one a bath. He left the door to the bathroom open as he undressed the boy and put him in the water, having learned quickly that neither of the others took well to having Malik out of their sight, even for a second. The two older ones, who had introduced themselves as Maxim and Palermo, were stretched out on the large sofa/bed combination in the center of the commons area.

They'd decided on cartoons and were playing them quietly, looking up every few moments to be sure that Malik was OK. Palermo, in fact, looked up every two minutes or so, blowing strands of curly sun-blonde hair back from coal-black eyes. The three looked so different between them, Alex thought idly. Sam looked nothing like Malik, who had luminescent brown skin and dark eyes and hair, and he also looked nothing like Max, who had Alex's same black hair, green eyes, and scrutinizing stare. The only resemblance the three boys shared was in their noses, all of which had a snobbishly turned-up shape to them.

Alex was startled back out of his thoughts by a glob of soap that hit him on the side of the head, sent sailing by the previously angelic-looking boy in front of him. He turned his attention to Malik, who sat looking innocent in the tub, suppressing giggles. Alex went for his stomach immediately, tickling and making the boy squeal. Max appeared in the doorway immediately, and Alex grinned up at him.
"Don't worry, I'm not hurting him." Max looked sheepish.
"I was just looking around." Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Sure, of course." There was a pause as Malik busied himself dunking his head into the water.
"I can dry him, if you like." Max offered and Alex shrugged noncommittally.
"Sure. If you want." The older human got easily to his feet and made his way out of the bathroom, past the protective youngster. In the commons, he stretched out on the bed/sofa next to Mo, who only glanced briefly away from the television. Alex decided not to disturb him, and followed his gaze up to the screen. Struck by the absurdity of the images on the screen, he began to laugh hysterically, and Mo looked over at him, concerned.
"Are you alright, Badi?" he ventured, not wanting to seem impertinent or rude.
"Mmhmm." Alex calmed to a chuckle. "Mda, I'm fine." It astounded him how much things had changed in the past twenty years. He hadn't watched or seen a TV in a long time, and even before the Invasion, he'd never been a big fan, but the changes were still painfully obvious.
All shows not featuring wolves or considered to support the Wolfish way of life had been deemed 'detrimental' and removed. In their stead were now programs, some eagerly Wolfe-serving, some pandering, some educational, some serious shows and short films, and some featuring all manner of life currently inhabiting their planet. There were dramas, starring wolfes and their enticing human costars, sporting with Louts, even cooking shows with the Psires. Some shows that had been salvaged were rewritten, to allow for accordance with Wolvish beliefs, but Alex supposed that they hadn't considered rewrites efficient in the case of cartoons. The revisionists had simply drawn tails on half of the characters. Alex considered explaining all of this to Mo, but decided that it wouldn't fare well, and so just shrugged at him and settled down to watch some program about a heroic wolfe and his search for a human mate. Alex wondered how his litter was doing without him.

+++++

The four of them had just begun to doze off when the door opened for the four o'clock meal, and two servants breezed in, carrying trays of food, which they placed on the table next to the large picture window. Max wrapped his brother up in a robe that was sizes too big for him, and the four of them congregated at the table. After waiting patiently for Alex to begin eating, ("At Academy, they taught us that it's rude to eat before your elders.") the boys dug in and left their trays empty. After they'd eaten, Max put Malik back to bed for a nap, then, after checking to be sure that Sam and Mali were both asleep, stretched out himself over the bed he'd declared his and quickly followed suit. Alex was just about to join them when Garron's voice interrupted him.
"Let them sleep." Alex jumped, then relaxed into his wolfe's arms.
"Garron." Garron turned Alex so that they were facing and pushed him against the wall next to the bedroom door.
"Close the door." He growled against Alex's neck.
"Garron..."
"They won't know." Garron kissed Alex roughly, lifting his mate and leveraging him against the wall. He licked and bit his way down Alex's neck, leaving sweet red marks along the skin as he went.
"Can't you wait?" Alex pleaded, grasping to pull the door closed.
"No. Now." Garron nuzzled Alex's chin and neck. "Smell so good." A sudden tug at Garron's pants startled him.
"Appa?" Malik's face was turned up, looking curiously at both of them.
Garron swore and dropped Alex back to the ground. Malik was still tugging at his pants leg, and so Garron turned his attention to the boy. He lifted him so that he was nose-level, holding him by the scruff of his neck in one hand.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Malik nodded as much as he could for being held up by his collar. "Well, why aren't you?"
"You made noise, and I want'd t'say hello. Ba spent the whole day with us, but you didn't come, even for lunch." Malik's sentence trailed off into a yawn.
"You shouldn't hold him like that." Alex pointed out from his position leaning against the wall. "He's a child, not a trophy."
"Right." Garron awkwardly shifted his grasp on the little one so that the boy nestled against his chest.
"Appa?" Malik's voice came tiredly.
"Mmmhmm?"
"I'm sleepy." he managed, closing his eyes.
"I know. Come on, let's get to nap, then." Garron carried Malik off to bed, and Alex watched from the doorway. Inside, the other two boys slept soundly on their beds, and Malik quickly joined his brothers. When Garron reappeared, Alex smirked at him.
"Little calmer now, are we?" Garron glared for a moment, then laughed along with his beta.
"I hope this doesn't become a habit of his." He managed between stifled laughter. Alex giggled.
"C'mon, wolfe, let's go see the other three."

+++++

Alex and Garron spent the rest of the afternoon greeting their three newly adopted wolfe cubs. The trio had been placed into rooms directly adjacent to Garron and Alexei's own, on the south side, and when their parents arrived to meet them, they were heavily engaged in a game of Hunt.

After a brief scuffle, Garron managed to get them all on the bed, sitting quietly except for the drumming of fluffy tails on the comforter. Two pairs of curious eyes and one pair of surly ones stared up at their parents. Garron gestured to Alex and said, unceremoniously,
"This is your badi." The eyes all shifted to Alex. "Show respect." Garron reminded them, and all three got hopped to their feet, bowing their heads to Alex. They then hopped immediately back onto the bed where Garron had put them.
"Hello." the oldest spoke and the others just looked eager.
"Hi." Alex waved. The oldest's tail sped up.
"Do we have littermates?" he asked eagerly. Alex looked confused, and turned to Garron.
"These three," he said, gesturing to the cubs before them, "are brothers. The three in the other room," he gestured vaguely towards the door, "are their littermates. They are from the same birth group, but are not males and are unrelated."
"Oh." Alexei turned back to the cubs. "Yes, then."
"Can we see them?"
"No!" Garron cut in, giving a glare to each of them in turn. Then, to Alex,
"Sorry. They start early." Alex looked puzzled again.
"In the hunt for a mate." Garron clarified, looking a little embarrassed.
"Ah. Well," Alex held out his hands and approached the bed, "I think that may be a bit premature. Why don't you all tell me your names first?"
"I'm Michael." this from the second cub on the bed, who hadn't spoken until now. "I'm the oldest." this surprised Alex, as he'd assumed that the most outspoken was the oldest.
"Oh. How old are you, Michael?"
"Near 15, Da." Alex nodded.
"I'm Kaeden." this from the talker. "I'm 13." Alex nodded again, then looked down at the littlest one.
"And you?"
The young wolfe paused, looked at his Alpha, looked at his brothers, then turned to Alex. His dark eyes were cool, detached. He had the air of a man appraising what lay before him.
"I am Victor."

Michael, the oldest, was an Earth-born male, dark haired and eyed. He was 14, close to beginning his training. Kaeden, the second oldest, was 13; born on Arem'mir but raised Earthside; he had silvery hair in Garron's vein but dark eyes and skin like his brother's. He was the friendliest of the bunch and Alex took to him immediately. The youngest, Victor, was quiet, even sulky (although Garron explained that this was just a side effect of a wolfe beginning to gain his age) and mostly ignored Alexei and twitched a thick brown tail that matched his dark hair and eyes.

Alex smiled amiably at them, and they all wagged back, although Victor realized what he was doing immediately and stopped. Garron frowned.
"Tails still." he demanded.
Alex looked at him, somewhat sadly.
"Why can't they wag?"
"Because dignified wolfes control their expressions." Garron gave another scolding glare. Alex felt fatigue creeping into the edges of his consciousness, just as Victor came out of his funk long enough to politely ask:
"Da, is it time for dinner yet?"

+++++

Damon went for a walk outside, leaving the litter temporarily in the capable care of two nurses who liked nothing better than to play with the puppies all day, every day. Damon welcomed the reprieve - he loved his litter, but there were six of them, and they were a bit of a handful to manage all alone.
Alone. Even thinking of the word made him angry again, because he remembered why he was alone: Kriston was nowhere to be found.

It wasn't as if his wolfe had abandoned him. No, Kriston had been there for the birth, there when Damon awoke. He was there to take them home, and there for the first nursing, and there for three nights after; on the fourth night, the nurses had offered them a night off. They'd spent it on the riverside, where Kriston had built him a fire and caught him a large rabbit, explaining that it was Wolfish tradition for new parents to take off the fifth night after the litter. It gave them time to be alone, Kriston said. Time to remember that they were a pair.

On that night, Kriston had taught him how to play Hunt (not a very complex game), told him stories of his childhood on Arem'mir and his time traveling with his league. Damon had in turn taught Ris the fine art of how to make triple-decker sandwiches out of rabbit meat and flatbread, and told him the story of how his parents had first met. The last thing they'd talked about was Damon's adjustment to the ColdRiver Pack, and whether or not he had come to love the Wolfish life.
Love, Day had said, was too strong a word for anything he felt now. Kriston had looked somewhat broken at this, and so, intending to lighten the mood, Damon had changed the subject, playfully telling Kriston that he must've forgotten how to count, because tonight was most certainly their fourth night at home, not their fifth. Kriston responded that he did, in fact, know how to count because all wolfes (particular emphasis there to indicate 'unlike men') are literate, and that they would celebrate that night because tomorrow he would be gone, but couldn't say where. Damon had refused the rest of the meal.

+

At last count, Kriston had been gone six days. After three, it didn't make sense to be angry anymore, so Damon had begun to spend his time differently. His mornings, days and nights were filled with time for the litter, but the evenings, he discovered, were all his own. Suddenly feeling a pressing need for freedom, he had taken to watching the sun set down by the edges of the territory that he now called his home.

It had been hell, at first, to get permission to go this far out - every wolfe he'd spoken to had insisted that nothing short of an executive order from his mate would get him past six thousand yards, not even for a very very short walk. But after three days of begging and pleading that Kriston was gone and he was alone with the litter, and he just felt so caged, the guards had begun to give in.

So Damon would go out in the evenings, about an hour before sunset (always with a guard or two in tow), and he would walk until the sky got dark and the wind whistled to him that it was time to go home.

It was during one of these walks, on one of these evenings, shortly before sunset at the edges of the compound territory, that Damon had first encountered the markings. He wasn't sure at first - thought that perhaps he was just imagining things, seeing signs where none existed. Not wanting to seem obvious or draw attention, he'd begun wandering closer to the trees, checking them out, because he figured the markings could, after all, be just a strange formation of the bark.

After three days of the same sign, he determined that it was definitely not the bark. He walked home more quickly than he had in the days before.

+++++

Alexei was in the bathing rooms when Damon found him, stretched luxuriously out beneath one of the sunlit domes, making quiet strokes in the water beside him. Damon entered the room quietly, stepped away to undress, then let himself into the clear blue water.

Alex opened his eyes at the disturbance of the water surface and smiled at Damon.
"Day. Hey. It's good to see you."
Damon had been busy since he'd whelped the litter, and in truth, Alex had missed him. Blinking in the sunlight and the bright reflection of the water, Alex ran wet hands over his slick hair and sat up. Damon had a curious expression on his face, two parts excitement and one part unparalleled fear.
"Alex," he said slowly, meeting his friend's eyes to be sure he had his attention,
"I think my family has come for me."

Alex stared evenly at Damon.
"Your family. Has come?"
Damon nodded tightly, trying desperately to conceal his excitement, splashing the water around him with anxious hands.
"Alex, they're here - humans are here! My family is here!"
Alex stared at him for a moment longer before dropping his head back against the cool tile of the pool.
"And exactly what are you telling me for?"
Damon's face fell.
"Alex...this is a one-time opportunity. We can get out of here. I never expected them to come back into this region, not after my disappearance here, but they did! They came to get me, but I don't think they will come again. The marks I saw told me it's been three days since they arrived here. That makes today the fourth. They will not stay past five. If you ever want to get out of here, Alex, then now is the time."
Alex rested one hand on his still-slimming stomach, balanced the other on the rim of the pool.
"You won't make it past the third marker."
Damon bristled at this.
"My family are brilliant escapists. If we go with them, then I assure you that we will all make it out of here."
Alex lifted his head, looked Damon over.
"Well, you go on without me."
Damon gaped at his friend.
"You're serious. You're really serious."
Alex shrugged, looked away to to the gilded far walls.
"I think, Damon, that at this point in my life here," he once again turned his head to lock eyes with his friend, "I have no intention of going anywhere."
Damon felt a whirpool of nausea beginning in his stomach.
"Alexei-"
"Damon, go." Alex wouldn't look at him. "Just go if you're going." Damon felt his eyes sting. Alex shook his head, then looked up and locked eyes with Damon. "Go."
Damon stared at him a moment longer.
"Alright." he took two steps backwards in the pool. "Alright. Stay if you want, but I'm getting the hell out of here."
Without turning, he made his way away from Alex and to the stairs of the pool. Alex's calm voice followed after him.
"And what will you do with the litter?" Damon paused. Alex pressed him. "Will you take them with you, to speed the discovery of your entire colony, or will you leave them behind - abandon your own children in pursuit of some selfish concept of freedom that's long since become outdated?"
The nausea swelled.
"I will do what I must to save my children the best way I can."
Damon continued on his way, climbed out of the water, and took two dripping steps. Behind him, Alex moved, making little waves in the pool around him, and asked one more.
"Even the cubs?"
Damon stopped short, shrugged his shoulders and walked on, refusing to allow Alex to see how his words had affected him. He would certainly make it out of the compound, or else he would die in trying.

+++++

Getting the guard to take him for a late night roam proved to be completely impossible. Not only were the guards unwilling to run such a major security risk, but apparently they had also been given specific instructions to keep Damon at home that evening. The cause was a mystery to Damon, but the solution became radically clear when, about two hours before the midnight meal, the door to their quarters slid open and revealed Kriston in the doorway, skin red with the dust of travel and eyes heavy with fatigue.
"Kriston!" the exclamation was one of surprise more than delight, but Kriston read it the way he wished.
"Darling."
Damon tried to ask him questions - where he'd been and why, what had happened, why he was so red, where that new scar across his thigh had come from - but Kriston was too worn out to answer any of them. Instead, he just kissed Damon's head, stumbled his way to the private baths and then collapsed, barely conscious, on the bed in their room.

The guards had been dismissed as soon as Kriston had arrived at home, and Damon immediately recognized his opportunity. Leaving the wolfe sleeping, Day crept around the room, stealthily collecting the few things he wanted to take with him. He tied these to his waist, tucking them inside his robes. Excitement thrummed through his veins. Kriston's arrival could be nothing but Providence, because what other way would Damon have to escape the watchful eye of the Pack guards? And with the marks even now fading on the trees...
Damon checked his bundles and made his way to the nursery, the last place he would to visit before leaving.

Damon had known from the minute Alex had refused him that he would have a decision to make. It was dark, and there were a thousand dangers on the road to freedom, not least of which was the possibility of capture. Taking any of the litter was going to be a risk; like carrying a tiny homing beacon of sound and scent, if Kriston or the pack should come after them. But to leave them all...they were his, after all, as much his as they were Kriston's and he couldn't leave them, couldn't bear to abandon them to a life bereft of even the tiniest glimpse of the world outside the compound walls. He had to try.

Carrying six infants would be impossible. Damon knew that. He also knew that his options were limited: he could ask for help, maybe involve someone else in the escape, but that would only heighten the penalty in the event they were captured. Human conspiracy carried with it a very serious charge of treason against the Empire. He couldn't carry the weight of another man's conviction on his shoulders. He could make two trips - perhaps take three, leave them with his people, then come back for the others. No....that, too, carried an increased risk that he was unwilling to take. Escaping once might be easy enough - twice would be impossible.

Damon knew he would have to go alone, and he would have to leave some of the lit behind. But how to decide which ones? Damon knew what he would have to do far before he knew that he would do it, and he stood almost a quarter of an hour over the litter's crib, just stroking his firstborn's head. But he had no choice. There was no other way. He would have to leave the wolfe cubs behind.

+++++

Charlton and Ozgür, the only two humans, and the only two Kriston had allowed him to name, were nestled tightly against his back, kept in place with the length of cloth Damon had wrapped twice around his body and tied off. The air was cool for the seventh moon, damp and laced with smoke from the kitchen fires that Damon knew were not very far away. He kept walking, kept to the shadows. About forty yards in front of him, he could see a pair of guards, pacing their territory, out on the evening route. He paused, waiting to let them pass. He had no idea where he was going, but the darkness was kind to him and if he could find the tree he'd seen before, he knew he could find his way.

It took almost an hour, and Damon was petrified the entire time. Staying downwind was the most difficult part, but luckily the summer season had been quiet and so the guards had grown unused to searching for trouble. He had wrapped himself in cloth from their bed - the mingled scents of wolfe and human serving to diminish his own and, hopefully, eliminate the scent of Oz and Charlie. If he could make it into the tree line, past the second and third markers and to the river, he was guaranteed to find his family there. Damon looked up at the sky above him. The half-full moon was dipping down low and Damon hoped that that was a good sign. He kept walking.

He made it to the tree line. The moon was rising, lay silver on the trees and cast shadows through the forest, long his path and into the forest around him. Twenty yards in, he knew someone was following him. He heard the slight off-step, the minute additions to the sounds of the forest. His heart beat faster. The moon continued to rise. He made it to the second marker. Oz gurgled and moved, clenching a tiny fist against his badi's back, but Damon couldn't stop to hush him. He had to keep moving, keep running, make it to the river. He couldn't cross the river - he knew that as well as anyone did; the guard was thick on that side to defend the most disputed territory, and there were many frightening things lurking near to the woods that lined the bank. But if he met his family at the river, then they would help him reach the underground. The river meant the underground, and the underground meant home. He had to keep walking.

He was halfway to the second marker when a burst of movement behind him, to his left, made him spin, taste fear, and prepare to break into a cold run. The pursuer beat him to the punch, however, and all Damon saw was one flash of tail before the stalker was gone. It only took Damon two more seconds to realize that he'd been caught. He ran. He ran, legs aching and lungs burning because he hadn't done this in so long, especially not since giving birth and definitely not with twenty extra pounds strapped to his back. He could see the second marker, was almost there, could hear the rush of cool water just beyond when he heard his name.
"Damon."
Day turned back, his first mistake because Kriston was standing on the path behind him, breathing heavily - too heavily - and clenching one hand across his gut, half-slumped with the other hand resting on his newly-scarred thigh.
"Damon, please."
He wasn't even howling. Why wasn't he howling? He could call his men, have the others here in a heartbeat. Damon knew he was caught. Why wasn't Kriston howling? Maybe it was pride. Stupid, stupid pride because maybe Kriston had decided that if he couldn't bring him back, then no one else should be able to. Leave it to his wolfe to think of something like that. Maybe it wasn't pride.
"Damon," Kriston dropped his head, fingers clamping spastically on his leg and stomach, "Please don't leave me."
Damon felt the words like a fist. The wolfe seemed to be struggling to breathe. Damon hesitated just an instant more. If he ran, would Kriston chase him? Of course he would - he'd come after him until he couldn't run any farther. Injured though he was, his wolfe would follow him to the ends of the earth, or better yet, to the edge of the river. If Damon was planning this right, he could lure him into the water. And what would he do then? Pull him out, play the role of deliverer, or just let the damn barker drown? Damon didn't know what to do. Then he heard his name again.
"Damon!"

This time, it was urgent, frightened. It was his sister. She was standing by the river.
"Run!" he screamed, Kriston and his injury temporarily forgotten. "Alyssa, run!"
The babies had woken by now, and tiny mouths began to cry. Kriston stiffened at this, tail went taut, eyes narrowed. Damon suspected he'd only just realized exactly what was happening. Damon cast a panicked glance between his husband and his sister. Alyssa was still standing on the path.
"Alyssa, fucking run!"
"Damon! Please! You have to come now - the clan is moving on! Follow me!"
Kriston began to growl, and Damon bolted for the river.
Kriston was on him, right on him, even though he was running slow. Alyssa was in front of him first, then gone - disappeared, he was sure, into some hidey-hole. He flew past the first marker, and she reappeared, running next to him, making some kind of gesture with her hands. He shook his head. Kriston was gaining on him.
"The children!" she was screaming, "Give me the children!"
Damon looked behind him - Kriston was gaining. He slowed as much as he could afford, let her reach his back - pluck one, then two from the intricate carriage of cloth. He looked back again and Kriston wasn't there - he looked again and his mate was collapsed, lying prostrate on the ground. Damon stopped, but Alyssa kept running. Day didn't remember making the decision to go back for Kriston, but suddenly he was there, his hands on his mate's face, in his hair, turning him over.
"Kriston."
The wolfe's head was limp and his eyes were glazed. Damon looked back up to the path. Alyssa was gone. Damon swallowed the cold knot in his throat, stared once more down the path after them. He looked back at Kriston. The wolfe was growing cold in his hands. Hoping for the best, he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and howled. Not very far off, he heard six wolfes howl in return. Above them, the moon was bright.