Pack Dynamics

Belonging

Six years later...


The apartment didn’t smell right.

Casey swept his tarnished gold and black hair out of his eyes. It was getting too long; tangling at the ends where it brushed the tips of his ears and the back of his neck. Casey’s movements were impatient – worried – though he would contently gnaw through his arm before admitting it.

After all, Mason was a big boy, just because he wasn’t home and it was coming up on... (he checked his scratched cell phone screen for the 10th time in as many minutes)... 2 a.m.?! Fuck, where was he?

Casey rubbed at his red-rimmed and scratchy eyes. He ought to be asleep right now. He would be asleep right now if it wasn’t for him. Mason Rossi. Casey’s Alpha.

Not that Casey wanted or needed an Alpha. He was 18 now and a full-blooded, dominant shifter in his own right. He was second only to Mason in the hierarchy of their small, ragtag pack – though definitely a more distance second than he would have liked.

Mason had been acting as Alpha over Casey since the moment they had met. Casey had been 12 at the time, Mason 17. Casey has always been headstrong and wilful. Even at 12, he had chafed under the restrictions and rules of having a pack leader. It only became more of a struggle as he grew up.

Struggle or not, however, Mason was his Alpha and his authority the only constant in Casey’s life for the last six years.

That might explain why Casey, even though exhausted, was unable to sleep. His body, mind and, most especially, his cat (the constant companion in his head) could not rest without Mason’s presence in the rundown, single-bedroom apartment they shared.

Frustrated and tired, Casey paced the length of the bedroom floor and viciously kicked the oversized pillow lying in his path. The kick wedged the grey, plaid cushion half under the bed. He kicked it again for good measure, releasing a snarl. The noise was low and carried – inhuman –throughout the empty apartment. “Fucking jerk. Where the hell is he?”

It was the first really cold night of the year and it had come without warning. The wind was blustery, dried up leaves were being blown up and down the deserted street outside. Ominous black clouds blanketed the night sky, obscuring the stars and the moon. There was no heat in the apartment (not enough money that month) and there was a draft that swept over Casey’s feet and ankles as he stalked over to the window.

As he stared out, sharp flakes of ice started drifting out of the sky, illuminated by the street lamps and car headlights.

Mason should’ve been home by now. He always called if he was staying out past midnight, if only to check that Casey was home.

Snarling again, Casey marched out of the bedroom to the tiny closet by the apartment entrance and wrenched it open. He grabbed and donned his charcoal wool jacket and shoved his feet into a beaten pair of brown leather combat boots. He had no idea where Mason was, or even where to start looking, but he could not just pace the apartment any longer, waiting.

Just as he reached for the doorknob to the front door, the door swung forcefully on its hinges and slammed into his face, sending him careening back and grabbing his nose. He felt a trickle of blood move towards his lip. OWW! Sonofabitch!

Mason Rossi stood in the doorway, dusted with rapidly melting snow. Nearly 6’3, with a broad chest and sinewy muscles, he was an imposing figure. He shook his short, black hair like a wet dog, sending a mist of cold water towards Casey as he stepped in.

“Hey, watch it!” Casey yelped indignantly, with a glare.

Mason’s black eyes met his glare directly and Casey prickled, finding it hard to hold the stare. He ground his teeth; damn submissive instincts.

Mason’s eyes traveled over Casey’s figure, taking in the boots and jacket. His expression became forbidding, a feral gold light flickered in his otherwise black eyes. “It’s the middle of the night, kitty, where do you think you’re going?”

“It is the middle of the night, and you’re just getting in. Where were you?” Casey demanded in return, shrugging out of the jacket and toeing off his boots, putting them back in the closet. “And don’t call me kitty!”

Mason pulled a bag out from the shadows and tossed it over at Casey. It was heavy, firm, but spongy. “Blanket,” he explained. “It’s going to be a cold few days until I can get the heat turned on, kitty.”

Mason took advantage of the fact the Casey’s hands were full. His fingers came up and tilted the younger shifter’s chin forward, he then leaned down, tongue lapping out over Casey’s lip and nose. Licking up the blood.

Casey shouldered him with a scowl. “Ew, gross, Mason.”

Mason just smirked at him, and licked his own lips.

Casey rolled his eyes and pulled away to carry the blanket back to the bedroom while Mason took off his boots and hung up his coat.

Casey dropped the blanket on a chair in the corner and proceeded to tug his grey and black cushion out from where he had kicked it under the bed frame earlier. He was exhausted and more than ready climb into his bed.

His cat bed.

The concept was humiliating (he wasn’t a house pet, goddamit). But, it was better than nothing; the apartment was wall-to-wall parquet floor from the mid-70’s. It was rock-hard and scuffed-up – sleeping on it was torture; he knew from experience.

For a few months, when he was 12, the pack has sleep in abandoned buildings and youth shelters. Mason had shared his bed then, for warmth and safety and to satisfy young shifter instincts to sleep curled up with littermates. It wasn’t until the two of them were older and moved into this apartment that Casey asked for his own bed. The next day the cat bed showed up on the floor. The message was clear; if the Alpha’s bed wasn’t good enough for Casey, maybe the floor would be.

Casey stepped back and began to strip off his clothes. If he was going to stay remotely comfortable with this chill in the air, he would have to do it in his true form. He pulled his hoodie up over his head and then tugged down his jeans and plain grey boxers, dragging his socks off with them.

Mason stiffened almost imperceptibly and prowled over to the bed. The dark haired Alpha straightened the already crisp sheets on the bed with deliberate attention as Casey drew his clothes off. Casey, gathering and tossing his clothes in the hamper, didn’t notice the unease permeating the air.

Once naked, Casey stretched his human muscles, loosening them up before the change. His body was lean and sleek, a sharp vee forming down between his jutting hips as he arched his back. Closing his eyes, he held the image of the cat in his mind and quickly slid into the shift. It was a pleasant feeling, blocks fitting into place.

In seconds, a large, spotted jaguar stood in place of the 18-year-old. He stood stiffly for a moment, adjusting. Casey had always liked the morph but there was a downside – the immediate onslaught of sounds and smells that made his head spin.

The Alpha’s scent was everywhere. It all but masked the scent of gasoline from the street outside, the smell of stale pizza from the kitchen, cheap generic shampoo from the bathroom, and the smell of Mason’s human musk coming from the figure currently climbing into the bed over his head.

Casey curled onto the flannel pet bed, sorting through all the smells, his body growing heavy; his cat was succumbing to its exhaustion now that the Alpha was in close proximity – safe and sound.

“Casey.”

Hearing his name, the cat lifted his head, eyes drooping sleepily.

“It’s cold.” Mason shifted the covers, holding them up at the edge. “Come sleep in the bed.”

Casey sniffed lightly, forever resenting the way Mason ordered him around.

“It’s late.” Mason ground out, impatience contained, though barely. “Just do as I say, without turning it into a fuckin’ struggle, Casey.”

Casey considered ignoring the command, but in the end, the temptation of a warm bed and an even warmer body won out. Languidly, the jungle cat slipped off his cushion and lopped up onto the bed, it creaked under the weight of the 250 plus pound cat. He crawled under and nestling against his Alpha’s heat.

Warm. Home. Safe. Warm. Home. Safe. The rudimentary thoughts floating through his cat’s mind repeated sluggishly as Casey rested his head on his paws, pressed tightly to Mason’s tee-shirt covered chest.

The Alpha silently asserted his dominance, stroking a human hand along Casey’s neck and throat, tugging lightly at the scruff of his neck.

Floating in that half-asleep/half-awake state, Casey nuzzled the hand, lapping his rough, pink tongue over the skin – a submissive gesture that, if fully awake, Casey would have fought against tooth and nail.

As is, his exhausted human mind tried to protest the action, but couldn’t muster the energy to suppress the animal instincts. In Casey’s mind, the inborn actions suited a slutty, Omega bitch more than the strong, independent shifted he wanted to be. Mason, and only Mason brought those feelings out in him. He hated it. He was humiliated that Mason brought those submissive tendencies out in him – seemingly without effort or conscious thought on the Alpha’s part.

“Shhh...It’s okay, Casey.” Mason murmured, feeling the cat tensing up almost painfully under his touch.

Deliberately shutting off the human portion of his mind, Casey surrendered himself to the familiarity of the touch and smell, falling fast asleep.

Mason continued to stroke at the soft golden and black fur long into the morning hours.

~~~

“Wake up.” The familiar voice issued the command with a tousle of his hair and a gentle shake of his bare shoulder. Casey had been woken the same way for the last 6 years.

“S’early, Mase...” Casey mumbled, attempting to burrow into the mattress. “Tired.”

The hand lightly stroked over his hair once more, a feather-light touch that he barely felt, and then it was gone, only to be replaced with a sharp swat on the flank, “Wake up. Now.”

Casey grumbled, “Yes, Alpha,” wishing he was awake enough to put a little more derision into his tone.

Casey was back in his human from, curled naked on the bed. A blanket, the new one, was tucked up over his body. He wrinkled his nose a little, stretching. The blanket was already covered in Mason’s scent (strong enough that Casey could smell it easily with his human nose) even though they had only owned it for a handful of hours. Casey tried not to think about the fact Mason had probably rubbed it over his scent glands before putting it on the bed, on Casey’s body.

For a moment, brain still hazy with sleep, Casey nestled into the blanket, inhaling the well-known scent. His cat preened in satisfaction at the smell – the smell of Alpha, of home. He was unable to remember a time he hadn’t woke up with that smell in his nose, though it had changed subtly as Mason changed from a teen to the 24-year-old man he was today.

As Casey awoke further, he felt foolish for just lying there, breathing in the Alpha’s scent. His human sensibilities took over and he grumbled, stretching, “Ugh, I need a shower.”

“Make it quick.” Mason responded. Casey cracked open his eyes and saw Mason standing over the bed, one towel wrapped around his hips and a smaller one slung over his wet shoulders – obviously straight out of the shower himself. “The rest of the pack will be here within the hour. We have a new job.”

~~~

After Casey’s quick shower, he pulled on a pair of white sweatpants and padded barefoot into the main room, heading right to the kitchenette to plug the coffee machine in. Mason was lounging on the couch already dressed in his standard fair - black jeans and a black tee shirt.

He glanced up, eyes casually flickering right over Casey and then snapping back. He growled, “Go get dressed.”

Casey’s head jerked up. “Huh?”

“Go get dressed, the rest of the pack will be here soon.”

“What’s your problem?” Casey grumbled, grouchy. “I’m dressed.”

Mason glowered, looking pointedly down Casey’s slender, bare chest to the white sweat pants. “That’s indecent.”

“As if the pack cares what I’m wearing around the frickin’ apartment.”

“I care. You can see everything through that.”

Casey’s jaw flushed and he grit his teeth. “You can not.”

“Why do you always have to fight me on everything?” Mason sighed like a long suffering parent. “At least go put underwear on, I can see the outline of your dick and there is no way I’m letting you walk around like that with the pack over. No one gets to see that exc – no one gets to see that.”

Casey snorted dismissively, turning back to measuring out the coffee into the filter. “...Right.”

The low growl made his hair stand on end.

“Mason...” Casey began cautiously, slowly turning back around to face his Alpha.

Mason’s black eyes were shot with gold, lengthening teeth revealed by a curled lip. The older shifter was pulled to his full height, shoulders hunched forward threateningly. Casey could feel his cat shiver in fear (and a little excitement) inside himself. He bit back a submissive whine, his traitorous muscles twitching.

The growl deepened, sinking back in Mason’s throat, he snapped his teeth when Casey didn’t respond accordingly. The air was heavy with the scent of a dominant and Casey was unable to stop his defensive step back, bumping into the counter. He didn’t respond this way to anyone but Mason and it confused the shit out of him.

“Go change.” Mason barked.

Despite the fact his muscles quivered to obey, Casey stubbornly held his ground. “Screw off, Mason, you can’t tell me what to wear. Even if you do your mad dog routine.”

Casey felt Mason’s solid body impact him, the dominant wolf twisting him and forcing his body to the ground, all the while a large hand cradled the back of head, careful to make sure it didn’t hit the cupboard doors. Mason pressed him face down on the floor, held firm despite his struggles.

“Are you going to go change now?”

Casey grunted a soft huff of air, twisting and thrashing, hating the vulnerable feeling of being pinned by the wolf but even more humiliated by the way his body responded in an entirely different way. His blood rushed through his ears and between his legs, his shaft gave an embarrassing pulse.

His struggling slowed and he angled his hips away from Mason, grunting – a throaty cat vocalization.

Mason sensed the change at once, his wolf responding to the submissive softening in Casey’s posture. Mason stroked his hand over Casey’s neck and back, petting, feeling Casey loosen up further. He kept it up for several silent minutes, until the soft rumble of Casey’s purring filled the air. He leaned close and whispered, “Now, are you going to go change?”

The blond blinked up at him with unguarded amber eyes, cheeks a little flushed. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, Mason.”

It was always a battle to tap into Casey’s submissive nature; the younger shifter fought against the power dynamics of the pack voraciously. But, it was always worth the battle when Casey looked up at him vulnerable like that – only for Mason. It appealed to every base instinct the Alpha possessed. And it was a rarity. Unfortunately, there was no time to enjoy it right now.

“Good.” Mason released him, letting him up, and steadying him when he stumbled. Casey shuffled towards the bedroom, his body and mind feeling hazy and relaxed in that submissive, subordinate shifter space.

Once in the bedroom, Casey stripped and pulled on boxers and jeans and a plain yellow tee. He took several deep breathes to get himself under control.

Casey returned to the kitchenette, leaning against the counter to zone out watching the coffee drip. Mason brushed up against him. Small, casual touches; his shoulder, his arm, and his hands skimming over Casey’s back and bare arms. Casey really wasn’t really a touchy guy, maybe something about never being hugged when he was young, but this physical, skin-on-skin contact was routine after Casey took showers.

Not only did Casey wash away all traces of the daily dirt and grime and sweat, but he also rinsed off the familiar scent of Mason. That never sat well with the Alpha.

Casey didn’t fight it too hard. He was a cat after all, some petting felt good, so sue him.

Quite frankly, Casey was so used to this behaviour now, he hardly noticed Mason silently shadowing him around the kitchenette, appropriating small touches as Casey readied his coffee cup and lapped his tongue right into the creamer as they waited for the rest of the pack

The pack: Nora, Ty, Jessica, and Eugene. They had been together since the adult members of their wolf shifter pack had been slaughtered by hunters and Mason had taken over as Alpha, only 16 years old at the time. It was Mason that had found Casey (an abandoned, unwanted shifter) a year later when the 12-year-old had been set to juvie as a runaway. Mason had recognized the animal in him and brought him into the pack. They lived, basically, on the streets for a year until Mason was 18 and could rent an apartment with the money he saved up doing odd jobs.

Mason and Casey still lived there in that same shithole.

By themselves.

The whole pack had started off living together, but Casey had never fully adjusted to pack life. Casey’s jaguar liked to be on his own a lot of time, and solitary time wasn’t really something one got sharing a place with 5 wolves. Casey struggled with it for a while, but eventually startled looking for his own place. Then, seemingly without warning, Mason had moved the others from the apartment. Casey and his jaguar still had to share the place with Mason, but he could cope better with one person living under the same roof than he could with five.

Pack members having different apartments wasn’t even that unusual an arrangement. Nowadays, most shifter packs blended into the human system and had legitimate revenue streams. Some owned restaurants, or car dealerships, or fortune 500 companies.

Their pack worked for the Toronto Alliance – unofficially.

The Alliance was the otherworld governing body in this part of Canada. They kept the records and oversaw all the otherworld activity this side the Hudson Bay Divide.

Mason’s fingers were still spidering over Casey’s side as the front door bounced open and the other four members of their pack entered noisily.

“What’s up, Bossman?” Ty boomed, the largest member of their pack. He was an inch or two taller than Mason, and bulky, at least 80 pounds heavier. “Hey, Casey.”

Jessica followed; dark skin glowing. She smiled at them, her cheeks round and dimpled, her teeth decidedly pointy. “Morning, Boss, Casey.”

“Alpha.” Eugene inclined his head slightly at Mason and then nodded once in Casey’s direction. He was the youngest member of their pack, 18 like Casey.

The last member was Nora. Mason’s littermate. They were like twins, both tall and dark and gorgeous. “Mase.” She greeted Mason and then stumbled directly over to Casey. “Little brother. Coffee.”

“Get your own.” Casey griped, shouldering her affectionately as he poured himself the first cup and walked over to sprawl on the old, plaid recliner in the corner of the room. Casey had rescued the chair from the curb side garbage pick-up a few years ago and despite being hideous and falling apart, it was Casey’s favourite piece of furniture in the apartment. He sipped his coffee, waiting for the others to seat themselves and for Mason to bring the meeting to order.

As Nora hopped up on a stool from the kitchenette, and the other three crammed onto the couch, Mason moved across the room and perched on the arm of Casey’s chair.

Mason took the mug right out of Casey’s hands, bringing it to his own lips, as if he had every right to it. Which, technically, he did.

Casey silently cursed pack dynamics.

He considered grabbing it back, but Mason seemed to read his mind. The black haired Alpha held the mug loosely, close to the arm of the chair, daring Casey to try to take it, his gaze catching and holding Casey’s, his eyes conveying disapproval. The cat inside Casey shuttered, reacting viscerally to the censure of his Alpha; he dropped his gaze.

Mason took a couple of sips and then held it back out for Casey. He was looking at the younger man smugly, letting Casey know without words that he had only done it to prove he could. Bastard.

Though Mason had always had a dominant streak a mile wide, Casey could swear this last year, it had been growing worse. At least where Casey was concerned. He wasn’t sure anyone else had noticed it.

Maybe Casey was more sensitive to it because he was the only one around Mason basically 24/7 and because he had dominant tendencies too, that were predisposed to rise up whenever Mason asserted his authority too heavily. Which was far too often in Casey’s opinion.

“...small coven of rogue witches.”

Damn, apparently Mason had been talking while Casey had been lost in thought. And witches? Sonofabitch.

Groans came from the other pack members. They clearly agreed with Casey’s assessment of the situation.

Vampires were okay. Sure, they had that super strength and speed; but so did shifters, so that left them pretty well matched. The same could be said for other shifters; most were wolves, the most common (and well-known) shifter type, but they had also encountered a few foxes and even a family of bear shifters in the last few years.

Casey had never met another jaguar before; he didn’t even know if they existed. Mason and the others weren’t much help on that front. Apparently, big cat shifters were very rare. Which kinda sucked, because Casey would love to know more about what he was. His pack...they were his family, but he definitely felt the divide at times – the only cat in a pack full of dogs. Oh well, he could hold his own, his jaguar body was actually bigger than their wolves (even Mason’s) and just as fast, just as strong as the wolves...

...But, witches, sonofabitch. They were nasty, and they could be nasty from a distance, not even giving the shifters’ strength and speed a chance.

“The Alliance has been tracking them for a while. As of yesterday, they were in North Bay and moving steadily south.” Mason continued. “The Alliance wants us to stop them before they hit the border to the States. Bring ‘em in for questioning – two wolves were killed in the area. Ty, Nora, you guys are going with me to track down our magically-inclined friends.

Casey, you’re going to take Jessica and Eugene down to Kitchener. The Alliance has gotten wind of a Betrayer convention of sorts there. They want people to get inside, do a little recon, and figure out who’s a part of the movement, what their plans are, and what sort of power they have to bring those plans to fruition.”

A Betrayer was the title given to a shifter, or any otherworlder, who worked against the largely wolf-dominated Alliance.

It was an underground movement which started in the 1980’s and was still steadily, slowly growing – pushing for equal rights for all otherworlders (all species of shifters, vamps, witches, demons, etc.).

And then there was the Big Change -

They wanted to include humans in the equal rights. No more vamps draining them dry during feedings, no more witched using vital organ in their spells and potions, no more involuntary human sacrifices to the demons.

Jessica squealed and clapped her hands. “Road trip!”

Casey rolled his eyes a little at her enthusiasm.

Eugene looked less than enthusiastic, but then again he never looked enthusiastic about anything. In fact, right now, he looked down right sullen. He never made an effort to hide the fact he would much rather be on the Alpha’s team than the Beta’s.

It was going to be a long drive.

~~~

After Mason dismissed the gang to go get ready for their respective trips, he and Casey ended up back in the bedroom, packing side-by-side.

Well, Mason was packing and Casey was grinding his teeth.

“Do I really need to bring ever single sweater I own?” Casey griped.

“You do when you only own two fucking sweaters.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Mason threw him a look of disgust, that clearly said, You’re such a loser, but otherwise ignored the jab. “I booked you in the Days Inn under my name and credit card. Jessica and Eugene have an adjoining room.”

“We can all share one room.” Casey pointed out absently, as he retrieved his toothbrush from the bathroom and threw it in the bag on top of one of the sweaters. “Save a shitload of money.”

“You don’t share a room when I’m not around.” Mason’s answer was muffled slightly by the fact he was half in the closet grabbing several pairs of pants. “Not safe.”

“I am 18 now. You do know that right?”

“I am your Alpha. You do know that right?” Mason countered.

“As if I could forget...”

There was a small, fond grin on Mason’s lips as the wolf watched Casey walk out of the room, grumbling something under his breath that sounded like, “fucking pack dynamics...”

~~~

In the end, it was a bust. They didn’t find anything. No Betrayer convention, not even a hint of talk of it in the otherworld community in Kitchener.

Casey made them search and ask around all the first day and night, and then again the second day. By the next night, though, they had exhausted every lead and they were still empty handed.

The end of the second evening, Jessica was ready to give up. “Come oooonnn, Casey. Let’s have a little fun while we’re here.”

“We’re not here to have fun; we’re here to do a job.”

“And we did that job,” she insisted. “We couldn’t find anything about a meeting of Betrayers; the Alliance must have had their intel wrong.”

“We’re going to keep looking until the Alpha tells us to stop.” Casey bit out between clenched teeth.

“I vote we give it up and go to a bar. Relax a little, Mason doesn’t have to know... Eugene, don’t you think so?”

The 18 year old, rolled his shoulders lightly, glancing at Casey before agreeing with Jessica merely to piss Casey off, “Sure, why not? We can always go to an otherworld bar and continue our investigations while having some down time.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “Fine. But no one tells Mason.”

Jessica nodded enthusiastically and Eugene just snorted.

Jessica hooked her arm into the crook of Casey’s and started tugging him down the sidewalk. “C’mon, I know a great club that doesn’t check IDs.”

~~~

Midnight rolled around and Casey sat near the back of the packed club. He couldn’t even remember the name of it and was seriously thinking of going back to their hotel early. His cell buzzed, vibrating against his thigh and he pulled it out to read the message. It was from Mason.

We bagged the witches.
You?

Casey impatiently texted back.

No Betrayers here.

A minute later the response came.

You’re done then.
Start home.

Casey frowned, resenting the clipped tone in Mason’s message. He typed back,

The case is mine.
I say we’re not
done.

Mason’s message came back almost at once,

You are mine.
I say you’re done.
Start home.

Casey scowled and glared angrily at the cell. It truly was a bust with the Betrayer convention here. They really ought to call it quits and go home. But, god, Mason’s high-handedness made him so angry. He sent back,

I don’t belong
to you.

With that, Casey stabbed the power button, turning his phone off completely before shoving it back in his pocket. He finished off his drink, instantly regretting his message. He considered going back tonight after all, instead of wasting another day out here just to spite Mason.

Casey was about to get up and go looking for Jessica and Eugene when a body knocked against his arm, pushing him into the bar. A smooth voice came from behind, “Shit, sorry.”

Startled, Casey twisted around on the bar stool and came face to face with...Guh. Wow. Casey swallowed that response and tried for casual in the face of the attractive woman who had just bumped into him. “Yeah, no harm, no foul.”

Brown-eyed-curvy-and-hot smiled. She shifted so she was standing beside Casey’s stool instead of behind. She then held out a golden hued hand, “I’m Shelby.”

Casey took his hand and shook firmly. “Casey.”

She was a shifter. Casey could smell it off her, subtle but definitely there. She looked to be Japanese Canadian; lean and almost Casey’s height with chiselled cheek bones, and sweeping black brows over her almond shaped eyes. It was her hair that threw him off, it was a dark, dark brown, but speckled with gold. The contrast was very similar to his own.

“You here alone?” The stranger grimaced a little, looking chagrined. “Sorry, that came off creepy.”

Casey couldn’t help his smile. “That’s okay, really. I’m here with a couple of my packmates.”

“Oh, girlfriend?”

“No.” Casey answered quickly.

“Good to know... So, Casey, tell me a little bit more about yourself?”

“Why?”

Shelby looked at him, vaguely amused. “Can’t a girl talk to guy at a bar? Especially, if that one girl buys the guy a drink?” She signalled the bartender to bring them a second round.

When the bartender delivered the beer, Casey snapped the cap off and took a drink from the new bottle placed in front of him.

Shelby looked at him assessing, “I guess it’s too late to ask, but are you even old enough to have that?”

Casey smirked at her, “Yeah, old enough in every way but legal. I’m 18, though, so even that’s close enough.”

“Close enough.” Shelby repeated with a grin, sliding onto the stool beside Casey’s. “I turned 19 a few weeks ago, so, you know, old enough in every way.”

They talked for a while; Shelby was taking a few classes at Condordia, she was down here visiting friends, had an apartment of her own, she liked Far Cry but not Grand Theft, her favourite meal was rare venison and harumaki, and she, like Casey, couldn’t stand the way that vamps always smelled like blood past its best-before date.

Another two beers later, they were leaning towards each other alongside the bar, Shelby’s hand rested against Casey’s sleeve. It was unusual for Casey to meet someone and feel so comfortable with them so quickly.

“So, Shelby, what pack are you from?”

Shelby studied him for a moment, appearing to make up her mind about something before answering. “I don’t have a pack.”

Casey swallowed his drink quickly to avoid choking on it. “Oh.”

It was true, some shifter didn’t have packs. Usually ones lost, abandoned, or driven out of their family packs, or those few, like Casey had been, who didn’t even know they were shifters. Casey looked her over, subtly but carefully, trying to determine if she was an outcast and why.

“Listen, Casey, you wanna get out of here, go somewhere?”

Casey nearly choked on his drink.

“Relax. It’s just, it seems like we’re getting along well...really well... and I don’t want the night to end just yet. I promise I’m not a serial hunter, just a normal girl who’s really interested in getting to know you better.”

Casey sniffed the air imperceptibly. Shelby smelled truthful. She also smelled good – orange zest and vanilla and female musk with undertones of coppery blood.

Casey never left bars or clubs with people he just met – this girl, though, was tempting. A strange and new desire licked through his gut. He couldn’t ignore this extraordinary connection. If he let this girl go now, he’d always wonder about it.

Casey glanced around. Eugene was chatting up some girl at the other end of the bar. Jessica had two well dressed young men following her into the back room – a vamp and a wolf – she was pulling them both by their ties, like leashes.

Why shouldn’t he have some fun, too?

“Sure...Let’s go.”

Shelby smiled broadly. A real honest-to-goodness dimple appeared on her cheek. “Great, lead the way.”

Casey drained the last of his beer and headed out of the bar, Shelby followed after him closely.

It felt great outside, cool and fresh and open. The stars twinkled faintly despite the street lights and there was a nice half-moon in the sky. Casey breathed in deeply, tipping his face towards the moon. Mmm...

“Gorgeous.” Shelby whispered; it would have been too soft to be picked up by human ears.

Casey looked back over at her. “Where to?”

Shelby grinned and started down the street, “I know just the place, follow me.”

Shelby took him east, out of the high-traffic downtown to a small park; trees, pond, paths, tennis court, base ball diamond, the whole works. There was a jungle gym. Shelby scaled the rope ladder like it was nothing, landing gracefully on the top platform. “C’mon.”

Casey arched an eyebrow dubiously, “Isn’t that kind of for kids?”

“Sure. But I love climbing. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really climbed anything...”

“You’re never climbed? What kind of cat are you?”

Casey froze. He knew shifters could tell he was different, but he was careful of cover his scent with that of the pack, and cat shifters were so rare, people seldom recognized him for what he was. “You know I’m a cat?”

“Mm-hmm, a jaguar.”

Before Casey could even process that, she threw him another curve ball.

“Like me.”

“You’re a...”

She moved back out of sight before the question even formed. He heard the rustle of clothes and then she reappeared at the top of the play structure – a cat now. True to her word, her form was a mid-sized jaguar. Glossy, healthy fur, long tail, lithe build; as attractive a cat as she was a woman.

She prowled the jungle gym deftly. Tail twishing as she watched him from above. Casey followed her with his eyes, enthralled. Another cat. A jaguar just like him! He had a million questions to ask her...

She made a huffing nose, gesturing for him with her solid, spotted head.

Casey stripped, there in the sand, and shifted into his jaguar form. He scaled up the slide to join her. She pounced at him when he reached the top and he toppled back in surprise, sliding down backwards on his butt. Shelby stood at the top and laughed like a hyena – the sound a strange barking hack coming from her feline throat. Casey growled and tried to ignore his embarrassment, crawling up the slide again.

Back on the platform Shelby wuffed and batted at him, initiating a strange sort of play he had never taken part in before. It was fun. He chased her over the play structure, leaping from one platform to the next; landing graceful on the thin beams as if they were canopy branches in the forest. Shelby turned on him at one point and nipped at his tail, pulling playfully.

Casey hesitated. He had never truly played in his cat form before. The only roughhousing Casey had ever done was with Mason’s wolf and then it was fighting for dominance – cat versus dog. And this didn’t seem like that. Casey tentatively whuffed at her and Shelby pounced, knocking him back onto the platform. They wrestled for a few minutes, until finally Casey pinned her. She arched under Casey’s larger cat body, exposing her stomach.

Holy fuck! Whenever Casey had done this Mason, Casey had ended up in the submissive position - rolling under the Alpha. It was a rush to be dominant for once, even if it was just for play.

Suddenly, Casey felt a rough tongue lick along his muzzle. Casey jolted and looked down. Shelby nuzzled Casey’s nose again and then licked. A moment later, Casey felt Shelby start to shift under him and followed suit.

In seconds, both were human again, naked and pressed together, knees to chest.

Shelby reached up and dragged him down for a human kiss, which Casey returned. He was 18 and it was his very first kiss. It was a little awkward, their noses banging together and teeth knocked, but it could have been a lot worse.

They continued to kiss, lips not straying from the mouth area for several long minutes before pulling back for air. Shelby looked up at him earnestly. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have t –”

Casey kissed Shelby again with more confidence. Smugly, Casey believed he was getting better at this already.

Casey broke off when he heard the sound of a woman shouting far off in the distance. He let his shifter senses expand, focusing on the noise, the scents.

Shelby heard it a few moments after Casey did. She stopped abruptly, head tilting to the side as she concentrated. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Casey laughed, “Alright, Lassie.”

“I’m serious!”

Casey blinked at the outburst, sorting through the information in his head. He listened carefully, sniffing the air. “Yeah...yeah, but it’s okay. It’s just humans...”

Shelby, gapped at him. “What? No. We have to help her.” She pushed Casey off and took off towards the sounds, practically she leap off the play structure, bending her legs like a cat and shifting as she landed. Casey hurried after her, pausing to collect his clothes from the sand.

He ran almost a kilometre through the woods before he caught up to them. Two young guys and a middle aged woman, the contents of her purse flung on the ground between them; clearly this had been some sort of robbery attempt. Of course, the would-be criminals had a little more on their mind now with a large predatory cat prowling towards them, snarling loudly. Luckily, it was dark enough that Shelby could pass for a large dog in the shadows, because the last thing they needed was reports of a jaguar loose downtown.

One of the men pulled out a gun and fired wildly and the woman screamed. The shooter’s buddy grabbed a plank of wood off the ground and swung it at the cat, hitting her hard in the shoulder.

Whatever Shelby was, a fighter was not it. And she was about to get herself shot.

Casey growled softly and prowled forward out the shadows, looking dishevelled and human. “What’s going on here?”

“Help, please!” The woman shouted.

“Get out of here.” The first man ordered, his gun swinging between the animal in the dark and Casey.

Shelby roared and panicked the man, causing him to fire blindly.

The bullet shot right towards Casey. He moved out of the way at the last moment, the bullet only grazed his arm.

All three of the human were watching Casey now, incredulous. He had moved too fast. They couldn’t understand how he had moved so fast.

He grit his teeth, “Listen, why don’t we all just go home and pretend this never happened?” Blood was dripping down his arm; it wasn’t so bad, but it did sting. “GO!” he yelled when the humans just stood there stupidly. The two men took off west through a bike path. The woman made the sign of the cross, not even picking up her fallen belongings before escaping in the opposite direction, her shoes crunching on the gravel.

Once they were alone, Casey swung his gaze back to Shelby. “What were you doing? You almost got yourself killed. And for what? A human?”

“Humans are people, too!” Shelby snapped defensively, shifting back to her human form.

Oh, fuck, it was all falling into place. “You, you’re a Betrayer!”

Shelby flinched, arms wrapping around her naked body. “That’s a misnomer, we’re not betraying anyone; we’re standing up for ourselves and others – including humans!”

Casey frowned fiercely, pulling off his shirt and handing it to her to cover up. “You can call yourself whatever you want! You still betray your own kind. To help humans.”

“Casey...” A hand caught Casey’s arm. He growled and shook it off.

“Don’t touch me.” Casey started to walk off.

“Where are you going?!” Shelby shouted after him, unhappily.

“Home.”

“Casey, don’t. Let me explain what we do...I didn’t just run into you accidently tonight, I was looking for you.”

Casey stopped and turned back to her, angry, “What’s that suppose to mean?”

“It means I know you - Casey. You’re Mason Rossi’s Beta. “

Casey bristled at the mention of Mason’s name. “What of it?”

“You’re a jaguar, Casey. Under the rule of wolf who doesn’t understand you.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“Yes, I do, Casey. I’m a jaguar, too! There aren’t many of us, but... The few of us who are left are walked all over by the Alliance, wolves who think they’re better than everyone else. But we can change that. Casey, imagine, having just as much power as the wolves. Everyone, even the humans. We can do that, and we could use your help.”

“No way am I going to help some dirty fucking Betrayers.” Casey kept walking.

Finally, Shelby yelled after him, sounding more desperate. “Why not? Your parents were ones!”

Casey jerked to a stop. Shelby couldn’t have shot that arrow any straighter if she had tried. “What did you say about my parents?”

“They were ‘Betrayers’. They died for what they believed in. They were helping another jaguar who wanted to marry a human. The Alliance ordered their deaths, 18 years ago – right after you were born.”

“You’re lying! I don’t even know who my parents were!”

Shelby caught up to him, shaking her head. “But I do, they were friends with my parents! How do you think I knew about you? I can prove it. Back at the hotel, I have documents, pictures, video...” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Casey...”

Casey grabbed her and snarled, “If you’re fucking with me...”

“I’m not. Just come back with me. Come see the proof.”

“I should...my Alpha...”

“You can’t. He wouldn’t understand. He supports the Alliance’s extermination of so-called Betrayers. The extermination of your parents, Casey. Look at the proof... That’s all I’m asking. You’ll see. It’ll only take an hour. After that – you can do anything to want: kill me for being a Betrayer, tell your Alpha...Whatever.”

Casey weighed his options, struggling with the decision.

Shelby stepped closer, pleading, “Just come see my proof. Trust me, Casey – I’m like you.”

Casey saw it. And it changed his life.

~~~

I don’t belong
to you.

I don’t belong
to you.

I don’t belong
to you.

Mason snarled in the small confines of the car. He was speeding, rereading the text again and again, phone in his hand clutched against the wheel. Probably not the safest. Especially since his hands were not exactly in best condition to begin with, black claws lengthening and contacting, gnarling his human digits. The intermediate state (between human and wolf) was a sign of lack of control.

I don’t belong
to you.

His Beta was operating under a serious misapprehension and the sooner he got down to Kitchener to correct the error the better. Considering Casey had spent the last six years in a wolf pack, it was shocking how little he still understood about pack dynamics. Alpha’s were hard wired for dominance. It was simple survival of the fittest – strong pack leader equals strong pack. And yeah, it made him a little possessive of his pack. And damn possessive of his mate – whether or not that stubborn, thick-skulled feline knew that’s what he was.

He was pissed as hell when he got the hotel and his pack wasn’t there. He was pissed as hell when he tracked them to a bar and found only Jess and Eugene. He was pissed as hell as he tracked his Beta’s scent clear across the city, Jessica and Eugene flanking him.

He wasn’t pissed when the scent stopped on a park trail, the smell of gunpowder lingering in the air, Casey’s blood on the ground.

He wasn’t pissed at all – just terrified.

~~~