Pack Dynamics

Collared

When Casey woke up the next time, it was to the sound the apartment door opening. He could hear footsteps and recognized the scents of the other pack members entering. He sat up quickly, checking the bed – it was empty. He stood up from the cushion with his heart hammering in his chest, instantly anxious about the others’ reactions to his return. He tried to remind himself that the worst was over; Mason, as Alpha, had accepted him back and there nothing the others could do about it. But still, the others, they were his family too, and it was worrying to think about how they might treat him now.

He combed his fingers through his mussed hair, and straightened his clothes, butterflies fluttering in his stomach, briefly considering just hiding in the bedroom until Mason came and got him.

In the end though, no coward, he took a fortifying breath and pushed open the bedroom door.

Nora was the first to notice him. She froze in the center of the room, mouth falling open. “Casey!” She shrieked. Seconds later, he had 150 pounds of dark-haired wolf pouncing on him. Casey clasped her tightly with one arm. He looked over her shoulder, searching for and finding Mason. The Alpha gave him an inscrutable look as his littermate hugged Casey tightly, whispering in his ear, “Casey, I missed you so much!” She then pulled back and smacked his arm – hard. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again!”

Jessica rushed him as soon as Nora stepped back, her hands skimmed over his shoulders and arms, as if checking to make sure he was solid and in one piece, “Case? You’re back?”

His cat recognized family and rejoiced. Oh, God, how could he have forgotten how good this feels? How it felt to belong to a pack like this, his pack. He tousled Jessica’s wild curls affectionately, “I’m back.”

Eugene stood across the room, he made no move to approach. He looked older, more of a man and less of a boy. He had grown like 4 inches and his tan-coloured hair was cut into some sort of Mohawk. He nodded at Casey, guarded, like he had a million questions to ask but wasn’t going to.

Casey returned Eugene’s nod, he wasn’t going to press the issue. If this was the worse reaction he received, well, then he would count himself very, very lucky.

Ty came up to him last, pumped his hand a few times and clasped him on the shoulder with his other large hand. “About time you showed your face again, Casey. And what is that on your neck? Someone try to gnaw through your carotid?”

Casey’s eyes flickered over to Mason. Ty laughed knowingly, “Oh, so that’s how it is? Does that mean you’re back in the pack?”

“Oh?” Jessica squealed, pushing Ty out of the way for a look at the bite mark, “You’re back?”

“Yeah. I’m back.”

Ty grinned boyishly. “Does that mean I can step down as Beta and go back to being a lazy ol’ subordinate?”

“No.” Mason snapped, instantly deflating the room. “You’re still Beta.”

Nora pursed her lips, “But if Casey...”

“Casey is Omega.”

There was a collective inhalation of air. Casey studied a crack in the wall near the doorway to avoid their pitying looks.

Eugene stepped forward, emboldened by this new information, “Where have you been, Casey?”

“I had some things to deal with.” Casey said shortly.

“What things?” Eugene pressed, “Why did you leave the pack?”

Mason stepped in between the two young men. “Enough small talk. We have work to do here.” He looked at Casey and then Eugene warningly. “Sit.”

Casey took his old place on the plaid chair and Eugene uneasily followed suit, pulling over a chair from the kitchenette. Nora, Ty, and Jessica squeezed onto the couch. The four of them couldn’t take their eyes off Casey. He found himself in the same situation; his eyes flickered from one to the next to next, drinking in all the little familiar details and noting each new change to their appearance.

Mason impatiently slapped a stack of paper on the table. “Save your heartfelt reunion and googly-eyes for later. I’ll have your attention now.”

The Alpha stood in front of the couch, holding court, giving each of them a disapproving glare until he had their complete attention. He pointed to the table, printed copies of internet news stories as well as clipped newsprint. “Animal attacks. Wolves are suspected. All over Southern Ontario, even east to Montreal. Same reports coming in from Northern New York. Most recently, a fire on a shifter territory three days ago.”

Casey’s heart lodged in his throat. What were the chances they were investigating the same case as Shelby has been? Would he be so lucky?

The pack members leaned forward, taking articles, skimming them over, passing them around.

Eugene looked quizzical, shuffling from one page to the next. “These are pretty brutal for shifters. There’s no...human finesse.”

Jessica nodded. “Yeah, and these victims? Not one is a hunter.” She pressed down pages on the table as she recapped, “Young mom out jogging, park ranger, eco-campers, gas station attendant, girl guides on a fricking picnic. But those aren’t even the weird ones: this guy was mauled on the subway right downtown, and another in the underground parking lot at the Eaton Center. They’re calling it freak dog attacks.”

“Yeah, well, the humans only know the half of it.” Mason brought a manila folder, dropping it on the table too. The corner of the folder bore the Alliance seal. “Shifters attacking shifters. The Alpha from the Blackhills pack was killed by his Beta. The Alpha from the Trois Riviers pack killed his mate and then badly injured half his pack when they tried to restrain him. They both claim they have to memory of it.”

Jessica gasped, leaning forward, hand going to her chest, “He killed his mate?!”

Ty whistled low and long. “That is some kinda messed up.”

Eugene sat back on the spindly chair from the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. “Blackhills? Weren’t they involved with the Betrayers?”

Mason made a noise of agreement. “The Trois Riviers pack was known to provide safe haven as well.”

“Seems like they might have gotten what they deserved then.” Eugene snorted.

Casey forced himself not to react. Not to stand up and yell, They were shifters like me and you, packs that didn’t deserve to be terrorized!

“Yeah,” Jessica agreed. “Why are we getting involved?”

Mason gave them a look. “Because we work for the Alliance. And the Alliance wants us to look into. They didn’t sanction any killings within a pack and certainly not killing of humans out in the open like this. Draws way too much attention.”

“Do you know what pack might be behind this?” Casey couldn’t help the sharp intensity of his question, and he hoped no one noticed.

“Not yet, I have a meeting later with the Alliance...” Mason scrutinized him. “No pack took credit for the chaos; the kills are all over different territories.”

“The Alliance just wants us to figure out how it’s all connected, Boss?” Ty leaned back on the couch, legs outstretched.

“To begin with.” Mason concurred. “Ty you’re going to take Eugene – the north of the city is yours, ask questions, poke around, see what info has hit the streets about these kills. Be discrete though. Jess, Nora, the south end.”

“Where do you want me, Boss?” Casey asked quickly, trying hard to add deference to his tone.

Mason ignored him completely.

“We’ll meet back here 9 a.m. tomorrow. Everyone clear?”

There was a chorus of ‘Yes, Boss’s.

“So...” Nora smiled at the jaguar. “Now that the business is taken care of... Casey has a lot of explaining to do.”

Ty leaned forward, his expression turning serious, eyes sharp with interest. “That’s right, Casey, let’s hear it. What happened that night? I’ve been waitin’ 2 years to hear this story.”

Eugene’s head swung in his direction, taking in every word silently.

Casey’s heart started to beat faster, scrambling for what to say. He didn’t want to lie to them... But... he couldn’t tell them he was helping a Betrayer, let alone that he was one. They had all but said that Betrayer deserved to die for what they did. He looked over at Mason, pleading silently. The older shifter stared back at him, expressionless.

“No time for that now. I have to get ready for my meeting at headquarters.” Mason snapped at the others, eyes never leaving Casey’s. “Go prepared for your jobs tonight.”

Jessica shot up, grabbing Nora’s hand. “Come on then, no time to waste.”

Nora scowled lightly. “It’s not even noon yet. Everyone who’s anyone will still be sleeping. The clubs aren’t even open yet.”

“I know what time it is.” Jessica rolled her eyes. “But if we’re having a girls night out, we’re gonna need new dresses, handbags, and shoooooes!”

“Oh, my God, Eugene!” Ty taunted in a high falsetto. “What shoes am I going to wear?”

Casey relaxed a little, watching them banter and tease just like old times.

Mason growled with light impatience and practically kicked them out of the apartment with a reminder of what their tasks were that evening, leaving Mason and Casey alone in the apartment again.

The silence was heavy and thick.

Casey shifted with nervous energy, needing something to do. He tugged at his black and blonde hair. “Uh... Can I borrow some clothes? I didn’t bring anything with me.”

Mason made a sound in his throat and walked back into the bedroom. Casey trailed after him slowly.

Mason rustled through the dirty laundry hamper, pulling out a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt, which he threw at Casey.

Casey caught them and then cringed as the distinctive smell of Mason’s musk clung to the clothes. He glanced over at the Alpha sceptically, “Any chance I could get some clean clothes?”

“You’re part of this pack again, after leaving, it’s only fitting any shifter that gets a whiff of you knows exactly who your Alpha is.”

Casey wrinkled his nose a little but pulled on the borrowed clothes, needing a belt to keep the several-sizes-too-big jeans on. He mumbled, a little petulant, “Might as well write it on my forehead...”

Mason’s fists tightened, and his canine teeth ached in a suddenly too small jaw. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest while he watched the younger shifter clinch the strip of leather over his hips. “And I think we should stop by the Pet Store today, pick up a collar for you.”

Casey choked on his breath, coughing. “I am not wearing a collar.”

“Yes. You are.”

“No. I am not. Collars are only worn by prisoners and skanky Omegas that roll belly up for anything with a cock or a nice pair of tits.”

Mason’s voice lowered dangerous. “Your point being?”

“My point is I’m not going to wear a fucking collar!”

Before the finally syllable even crossed his lips, Mason was right in front of him, hands locked around his triceps. “Who am I?”

Casey swallowed, really wishing he could stomp down his stubborn streak. He reminded himself he was only doing this to save Shelby, not because Mason’s touch heated him to his core, compelling his cat into submission. “My alpha.”

“And if I want you to wear a collar?”

“...I will.” It came out grudgingly, barely audible.

“Damn right you will.”

Casey frowned a little, fiddling with the over-sized clothes. “What time is your meeting?” he finally asked.

“In a few hours.”

“Can I do anything right now?”

Mason arches an eyebrow, “You could tell me where you’ve been. And none of that bullshit you were just thinking up to tell the rest of the pack.”

Casey went silent.

Mason swore heatedly. “Just lie down. Get some rest. I need to make some phone calls; I’ll be out in the main room. Leave the door open, so I can see you.”

Casey was completely bewildered by the alpha’s behaviour, but heaved a sigh and sat down on the cushion nonetheless. “Yes, Boss.”

Mason left him to his thoughts.

~~~

Two hours later, Mason ordered him down to the parking garage. Casey didn’t question it. He had just spent 120 minutes starting at the floor thinking unpleasant thoughts; he just wanted out to do something - anything. He even climbed into the truck willingly, buckling himself in.

They didn’t drive for long before Mason pulled into a parking lot.

Casey’s whole body stiffened when he saw where they were. “I didn’t think you were actually serious.”

Mason ignored his comment and slid out of the vehicle, walking around to the hood to wait for Casey to catch up. With extreme reluctance, Casey exited the truck, too, and followed Mason towards the store.

It was in grey brick strip mall in between a locally owned pizzeria and a nail salon. There was a tattered white and green overhang and a neon OPEN sign in the filthy window. The big sign above the door was home to a family of swallows, and it featured a cartoon dog and parrot and the words PET STORE in two foot tall lettering.

The Pet Store, trying to be ironic, really had a pet store when you first walked in. Hamster wheels, dog toys, fish tanks, cat food – the whole nine yards. The pet store was only a front, though, for the real store in the back – a sort of illegal shifter supply store, half weapons, half sex paraphernalia.

Silver bullets, silver knifes, wooden stakes, holy water intermixed in the aisles with muzzles, bottled pheromones and anatomically correct wolf sex toys (and a few that must have been modelled after demon phalluses that made Casey shutter and wince). Mason by-passed all this and headed to a case of training collars.

There were a few brutal-looking, silver-plated choke chains. Thankfully, Mason didn’t even spare them a glance, reaching instead for a plain scrap of black leather which fastened with a latch made of an indeterminate metal. He inspected it and pulled at the material, testing its strength before reaching out to try another.

Casey had mentioned earlier that prisoners and slutty omegas were the only members of otherworld society that wore collars. He was blatantly reminded he had forgotten a group as he looked across the aisle, averting his eyes from Mason testing the collars.

Across the aisle, Casey could see the mating collars – fancy, luxurious-looking things with metal tags for engraving. His attention was strangely drawn to a collar on the bottom shelf of that particular display, hidden near the back. It was stunning. Well-built to last and masculine, unlike a lot of the others which were delicate and feminine or clearly designed to be unisex. It looked sturdy, as if it was meant to restrain a strong, dominant shifter. Meant to respect another’s power instead of illuminate their weakness, their submissiveness. Double layered leather, lined with velvet, there was a pattern of chrome rivets along the top edge and cross-shaped plates attaching four d-rings: one to the front, back and each side.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Casey jerked to attention. A young woman stood behind the display counter, heavily glossed lips pulled into an inviting smile.

“Only three like it were made by one of our designers in New York. Very unique. Want me to bring it out? You can inspect it...or try it on...”

He didn’t want to put on any collar, no matter how attractive he found that particular one, but he didn’t have a chance to answer the salesgirl’s question.

Mason slapped a collar down on the counter between them. It was beaten brown leather, treated with oils to leave it more pliable. It was plain, with a single steel o-ring at the front and a small lock at the back. A plain, serviceable collar for a lesser omega. “We’ll take this one.”

The woman could clearly sense she was talking to an Alpha and immediately nodded with a ‘Yes, Sir’ never once bringing her eyes up higher than his sternum. “It comes with a set of tags, Sir. Would you like them engraved?”

“No.” Mason said shortly, smacking down a few twenties on the counter.

The salesgirl quickly wrapped the collar in a paper bag and gave Mason his change. “Thank you. Please come again.” She chimed in by rote as they left.

Back in the cab of the truck, Casey sat uneasily in the passenger seat. Mason started the engine, but left the vehicle in park. He tossed the paper bag into Casey’s lap.

Casey looked down on it as if it were a grenade Mason had lobbed his way.

“Put it on.” Mason voice was gravelly with tension.

Casey twisted at the thick brown paper. “Mason... Don’t make me...”

Mason turned in his seat, facing Casey straight on, his gaze direct, demanding. “You don’t have to –”

“Oh, thank God.” Casey let his breath out in a huff.

“– If you tell me the truth about the last two years,” Mason continued. “The whole truth.”

“I...” Casey wet his lips lightly, placations and half lies catching in his throat. “I just...”

“How long were you planning it?” Mason spit out. Golden flecks flashed in his otherwise black eyes.

“Huh?”

“For how long were you planning to leave? Days? Weeks? Months? When I helped you pack that night, were you counting down the seconds before you would be free of me?”

“No! Mason, it wasn’t like that!”

“What was it like then?!”

Casey open and closed his mouth a few times and then pressed his lips together firmly, no answer forthcoming.

Mason’s jaw clenched, he turned back around to face front, “Put it on.”

“Mason...”

“Put it on, NOW.”

Casey’s fingers shook with anger and apprehension as he pulled out the collar, hating everything it represented. His fingers fumbled with the buckle. Mason reached over and took it from him.

“Hold your hair out of the way.”

Casey reached up, motions jerky; he swept the gold and black spotted hair up off of where it fell on the back of his neck.

Mason’s finger grazed the bite mark there, fastening the collar around his throat.

Casey head swung from side to side, adjusting to the feeling. “Can I still shift?”

Mason scowled at him. “Of course, the collar is charmed by witches to resize if you shift.”

Subject closed, Mason put the truck into gear and started backing out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going?”

“Alliance headquarters. It time for my meeting there.”

Nothing more to say, Casey sunk back in his seat, silent for the rest of the drive.

The Toronto Alliance had a huge red brick building near the center of the city. From the top floor you could see the shores of Lake Ontario. Casey had been there a handful of times before. He exited the truck after Mason, and followed the wolf into the building.

They were ushered into a plain white office. A middle aged man sat behind the desk there. He was a demon of some sort. There were too many demonic types for Casey to pinpoint his breed more specifically, but the horn protruding from his forehead was a dead giveaway.

“Alpha Rossi.”

Casey’s eyes jerked up to Mason questioningly. He was frankly surprised by the deference in the older demon’s voice. When he had left the pack two years ago, they had been treated like the Alliance’s dirty little secret. A pack hired under the table do missions no one else wanted to do. Low on the totem, and why not; they were a misfit pack, and the oldest members had been only just out of their teens.

But now...it seemed the Rossi pack had moved up in the world.

Mason slouched with deceptive ease in the chair across the desk. “I was told you had something for me?”

“It’s about the Betrayer case you’re working.”

“Yes?”

“We’re looking for a pack that may be behind these...disturbances.”

“Disturbances?” Mason’s smile was disquieting, “That’s what we’re calling multiple killings these days.”

The demon ignored the jab. “The Trois Rivieres and Blackhills packs, aside from both being Betrayer sympathizers, had another thing in common. They both attended an equinox hunt in the La Mauricie National Park.”

“I never heard of that hunt.”

“It wasn’t very big, invitation only.”

“They were invited by...”

“A new pack new to the area from the west coast. A pack of wolf and puma shifters.”

Mason’s posture straightened slightly. “Cats?”

The demon’s eyes flicked over Casey, who was still standing in the doorway. “Mostly wolves. But yes, reports have mentioned there are a few cats, perhaps even an eagle shifter or two. Alpha’s name is Lavoie.”

The demon paused and typed at his computer for a moment. “I’ve sent you their information to your cell. There’s a run on their land tonight, for the new moon. We’ve got your name on the invite list.”

Mason stood from the chair and crosses towards the door with a fluid, predator grace. “We’ll look into it.”

The demon nodded and Casey followed Mason out.

~~~

Later that night, Mason pulled the truck up the long drive to a mansion that stood out like a sore thumb in the otherwise remote and rural farmlands east of the city.

“Follow my lead tonight.”

“I will.”

“Casey...”

“I will.”

“These could be very dangerous men.”

“Mason. I’m 20 years old now. I’m not some kid you need to watch out for.”

Mason growled softly and put the vehicle in park, getting out. There was a steady stream of shifters going into the mansion and Mason and Casey joined the masses.

Mason stayed close to Casey all night, pressing him back against the walls when other shifters came too close. Mason’s body was held tall and rigid, tensed for a fight. His eyes were in constant motion, scanning each shifter they meet, showing his teeth. It was Alpha posturing; he was in someone else’s territory and instinct was to show off his strength and power, let the others know he wasn’t intimidated and that he was in control.

“Ah, Mister Rossi.” A barrel-chested, middle-aged man approached them, flanked on either side by tough looking brutes.

A tendon in Mason’s throat twitched. “Alpha Rossi.”

“Ah, yes, of course, Alpha Rossi, how remiss of me. Our pack has been rather isolated until late; we aren’t used to standing on such formalities. My name is Patrick Lavoie,” He smiled smarmily, “Or Alpha Lavoie if you’d rather.”

Mason gave him a formal nod. “Alpha. Thank you for opening your home to us.”

“Of course, of course.” The burly Alpha clasped and unclasped his hands. “Wonderful. A drink.” He snapped his finger and one of his underlings stepped forward with a tray.

Casey took a good look at him, surreptitiously. The man was somewhat handsome, if you squinted a little, but he was definitely a brute. 5’10 maybe, and built like a tanker. He had closely shorn fair hair, square features, and a snubbed nose. He looked like a man who had enough rank in the pack to know certain things – like what prisoners were being held and where they were kept – but also looked thick enough that he probably wouldn’t be able to tell when he was being used for information.

Casey looked up at him when he took a glass off his tray, maintaining eye contact for a fraction longer than merely polite. Mason took a glass, too. They touched their glasses to Lavoie’s, “Cheers.”

Mason downed the drink in one swallow.

Casey took a sip, watching the man with the tray over the rim of the glass.

Lavoie swept his arm out, “Alpha Rossi, I was hoping I could have a word with you. I’m sure you have some valuable insights on running a pack in this city, would you care to take a walk with me and share some? Alpha to Alpha.”

“As you wish, Lavoie.”

Mason snuck at last look at Casey as he followed the other Alpha across the room. He was loath to leave the younger shifter alone. Since Casey had come back, he hadn’t felt right letting Casey out of his sight; troubled that if he did the cat would be gone again.

As Mason and Lavoie took a turn around the room, Casey gave the lackey holding the tray a suggestive look. The man noticed immediately, and why not, Casey was young and fit and attractive, albeit in an everyday, boy-nextdoor sort of way. Casey took another sip of his drink, letting his tongue linger on the rim in a matter he hoped looked evocative and not just silly.

It worked, the smell of the shifter’s arousal filtered through the air. “My name is Dwayne.”

Casey smiled and put his drink down. “Casey. You’re in Lavoie’s pack? This is a great set-up your guys have here.”

“Thanks. It is real nice.” He motioned to the tray with a little grimace. “I’m not like a waiter or nothing. I’m actually a pack guard. I work as a bouncer at Lavoie’s new club, too. Just, you know, everyone pulls their weight at these parties.”

“Right. Of course.” Casey placated him.

“I think your Alpha is watching us.”

He was right. Casey didn’t even have to glance across the room to know that. He had felt Mason’s eyes on him since the conversation started. “Yeah, he’s a little protective. You know how Alpha’s are.”

“Yeah...right, right...” He appeared nervous. “Maybe we could talk later. You know, when your Alpha isn’t around.”

Casey nodded, trying to appear interested, “Yeah, I’d really like that, Dwayne.”

The guard showed his teeth when he smiled and gave Casey a rather obvious and obscene eye-fuck before walking off towards the kitchens.

Casey just lounged against the wall, watching the room until Mason came back.

“Any luck?” Casey questioned as his Alpha sidled up to him.

“Nothing definite. Keep your eyes peeled during the Run tonight though. Who was that you were talking to?”

“No one. A guard, he didn’t seem to know much, but worth a try, I might get him alone later and see if he’ll spill anything.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Like what?”

“Like he wanted to pin you.”

Casey smirked. “Maybe the feeling was mutual.”

Mason’s jaw clenched. “For both your sakes I hope you were kidding.”

Somewhere a clock struck, signally the midnight hour. People started streaming out of the room through the back veranda doors. Through the glass, Casey could see the navy twilight had melted into inky blackness. It was time for the Run.

Casey followed the others out of the building, Mason’s heat radiating against his back. On the large lawn, people spread out, reaching to strip their clothes off before the shift.

Casey moved to join the group on the lawn, but as he did so, Mason’s body changed direction, herding Casey back towards the building. Mason backed the younger man between the siding of the house and an overgrown juniper hedge.

Wrinkling his nose a little in confusion, Casey stripped down like the others, with Mason’s broad frame boxing him back into the shadows.

Mason kept his back angled to Casey the whole time as if shielding him from prying eyes. Which was ridiculous because no one was looking. Well, maybe a few people were peering into the shadows with their enhanced shifter eyes, but they could have just as easily been trying to make out Mason’s well-muscled body as the Alpha began stripping his clothes away, too.

Casey tried not to think about the way his gut tightened in response to the idea of these strangers gawking at a naked Mason...admiring his strong body... Casey shook himself lightly to dislodge those thoughts and then slid into the morph.

Casey stretched in his jaguar form, sniffing the air. He stiffened at the smell of so many unfamiliar shifters so close. He felt a shiver of fear, his cat instincts overpowering – wrong territory, not home, strangers, fight, run, danger, danger, danger, danger. A head firmly nudged his side. Casey tensed before the scent washed over him– Mason. His Alpha was there. No one could hurt him with his Alpha there. The muscles in his legs turned jelly-like, different cat instincts replacing the first ones – he fought the urge to roll at Mason’s feet in submission. He heard a feral whimper and felt a wash of shame realizing the sound was coming from his own throat.

Mason reacted to Casey’s submissive whimper with a fierce growl, his stance becoming even more dominant.

Casey felt overwhelmed by the undiluted, possessive look in the older wolf’s dark eyes, he found himself taking a step back, the grass of the lawn cool under his large spotted paws.

After that, Mason appeared to grapple for control of his wolf for a moment before stopping the growls. Then without breaking eye contact, Mason lowered his head slightly, exposing the glossy black fur on the back of his neck, clearly trying to approach without intimidating the skittish subordinate. A moment later, he took a tentative step towards Casey.

Casey watched the wolf and stopped his retreat. He struggled to maintain eye contact but his shifter instincts were too strong and he broke gaze, lowering his eyes in deference to his Alpha. He heard Mason’s soft wuff of approval before he felt the touch of a muzzle against his neck. Casey’s head lowered farther, his tail slipping low between his legs; it took all off his self-control to stay standing on his traitorously weak legs. He wondered if it had always been this hard to control himself around Mason. He didn’t think so, but then again he had been around Mason pretty much 24/7 before this and maybe hiding his inborn reaction to the Alpha had become second nature to him. Only now, after two years away, could he appreciate what a struggle it was.

The realization shook Casey to his core. His entire self-image was predicated on the fact that he was dominant, just as dominant as Mason, and therefore the alpha was unjust in his treatment of (in his dominance over) Casey.

Casey had felt the little submissive twinges before, in fact if he tried, he could trace them all the way back through his life, right to when he was 12-years-old, dropped into juvvie, meeting the solid, commanding presence of the 17-year-old boy who would come to take him in. Even then, when he hadn’t even known of his cat, he had felt the reassurance of being near the dominant.

No other shifters triggered submissive urges in him, not even the other Alphas he had met when encountering other packs – none of them even made him want to lower his eyes, let alone roll on his back. Not even with Shelby...

Oh, shit. How did he, for even for second, forget about Shelby? Benevolent, intelligent, uncomplicated Shelby, who was being held somewhere against her will – maybe even on these grounds.

Casey keened softly, unable to stop the sorrowful noise. Mason’s head snapped up, alert at once. He moved his large body closer to Casey’s, to protect him from whatever unseen foe had triggered the helpless vocalization.

Casey shrugged away, the jaguar’s body fluid as he retreated from the wolf’s touch, burying the submissive desires deep.

Mason’s expression darkened, canine features tightening. He resolutely moved to reclose the space between the two of them.

Casey wuffed and snapped and then turned tail and ran, deliberately cutting through the other shifters, knowing that they would let him slip by but try to waylay the Alpha.

His gambit paid off and he was able to lose Mason in the crowd.

Once on his own, Casey ran the field, sorting through scents until he found the one he was looking for – the guard. He was a puma, the first Casey had ever seen in their cat form. Sleek and golden with dark marking around his eyes and peach nose.

The other man seemed to recognize him; giving Casey’s jaguar form the same slow appraising look he had given the young man’s human body earlier. Fortunately for Casey’s plan, the guard seemed to approve.

Casey approached him, careful of his body language. Ear erect, mouth parted, tail swaying – a clear invitation for play and maybe more. The guard circled him slowly, the mountain lion clearly showing off. If Casey had been in human form he would have rolled his eyes – talk about obvious.

Casey lowered onto his elbows, tail swaying in the air. Called a play bow, the action was a clear invitation to fool around. The other cat half turned away from him, but Casey saw his eyes were trained on his body. He was playing hard to get and it was so palpable it was somewhat pathetic. The puma was practically salivating over him, and would no doubt make a move on Casey soon. However, Casey was impatient and stepped it up a notch, darting around the older man, mischievously swatting him with his paw (crawls retracted) and then bouncing back, teasing.

The guard finally responded with a wuff and a play bow of his own. Casey danced away a little, looking back at him over his shoulder, a clear invitation for the man to chase after him. He took the bait. Casey ran him through the woods that surrounded the estate, careful to stay out of his reach but close enough to make him think he had a chance at catching him. All around them shifters played in a similar fashion. A new moon run was a time to relax and have fun in the wolf dominated shifter society.

Veering towards a more private clearing, Casey finally let the guard catch up, enduring his pounce and then the light teasing nips as the puma pinned him down and asserted a playful “dominance”. Casey could barely prevent a shutter of distain. His whole body rebelled at being held down by this unfamiliar shifter; skin crawling under his thick, velvety fur, stomach heaving, muscles wanting to tense up to fight and struggle. All Casey could hear was a buzzing in his ears. He forced his body to relax, trying to calculate when the soonest he could twist out of the puma’s hold and still leave him with the impression he had a chance to score. Casey wanted him to think was into him just...shy maybe – a good boy, one who didn’t put out right away, young and a little bit timid. He wanted to project a certain image – harmless and an open book. He wanted the other shifter to relax, lower his guard.

The man was falling for it. The puma body mounted Casey’s jaguar. Rutting a little, eyes closed, his rough tongue licking over Casey’s soft, rosette-covered coat. Now if only Casey could keep it up just a little bit lon –

Casey heard a feral growl and then a huge black shadow ploughed into the body above his, knocking it off. The puma and wolf rolled in the dirt; Casey could feel the impact of their heavy bodies through vibrations in the ground.

Shitfuck – Mason.

He was going to ruin everything, not to mention get them kicked out (or worse) by attacking the host pack’s guard. Casey had to stop them before others noticed and reinforcements came. The two shifters had separated; the guard had a long open cut on his side – Casey couldn’t tell if it was from teeth or claws. The huge Alpha wolf had his hackles up, teeth bared, coiled to pounce again. Casey swore silently again, launching himself between the two of them, positioning himself with his back to the guard, facing Mason defensively.

Casey roared.

Despite the fact the jaguar was larger than both wolf and puma, Mason appeared to look right though him, eyes trained on the guard – his snarls blood curdling. Mason leap for the guard and Casey threw himself into the line of fire. Mason’s weight slammed into him, driving him back into the ground, knocking the breath from his lungs.

Mason was covering him, pinning him into the ground, but the Alpha wasn’t looking at him, all of his attention was focused on the guard. Casey could read the internal debate on his face: Attack the guard or keep his wayward subordinate pinned.

The guard wasn’t making matters any better. He was still standing there, as if frozen to the ground, the smell of blood sickeningly sweet and feeding the bloodlust in the wolf’s eyes.

Casey made a series of grunting noises, a warning and a plea that the man leave. It woke the guard up, he spared Casey one quick look and then took off back towards the house.

When the golden cat was gone from view, Casey tried to free himself. The smallest movement triggered an angry growl from above.

Mason’s sharp jaws clamped down on the back of Casey’s neck. The pressure was hard, puncturing skin.

Casey knew he was in big trouble and gave up the reigns to his instinct, his jaguar body submitting at once to the Alpha, body going limp and pressing low to the ground.

Mason didn’t let go, his jaws still holding tight.

Casey tried to hold still, muscles quivering. He felt Mason’s breath, hot and heavy, on his neck, panting. The bite continued for several long minutes.

Give to Alpha, submit to Alpha, his inner cat whispered. Casey even began relaxing against it, accepting it as his due. Shortly thereafter, the dominant wolf released his bite, rough canine tongue lapping up the blood between harsh, huffing breaths.

Casey was breathing heavy as well, the scent of the Alpha thick in the air.

The wolf rubbed against him, as if trying to cover the cat in his scent, or at least rub off any lingering traces of the puma.

Casey found himself rubbing back; great, spotted head swinging to the side to rub against the wolf’s leg.

He had no idea how much time passed before the coolness of the night air sank into his bones.

Slowly the haze of submissive started to lift, humiliation started to seep into Casey’s mind – a human emotion, not an animal one.

He slide out of the morph, human and naked and vulnerable, Mason’s thick wolf pelt soft against his bare skin. The monstrous wolf stared down at him, teeth still shinning in the starlight. Finally, the wolf licked the bite on his throat once more, before he too shifted, turning human under the stars.

In human form, Mason’s body still covered Casey’s, blocking most of the cool night breeze. “You said you were joking before, about letting anyone pin you. Now I find you being mounted by some stranger, some pack scum?”

Casey’s foggy brain could barely process Mason’s accusatory words. Inexplicably, it felt equal part natural and unnerving to be pressed naked into the grass under the stars by Mason’s heavy, equally naked form. It felt so different from the guard.

“Well?” Mason’s voice was strained. It was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to roll his hips and grind against the warm, solid body trapped beneath him. His body wanted the jaguar shifter despite his fury at the scene he had just witnessed.

“I... I wasn’t going to let him mount me.” Casey defended himself. “I was just...you know, trying to get him to talk.”

“Really?” Mason snapped sarcastically, “Now you can speak mountain lion? Or was this more along the lines of non-verbal communication you were hoping to engage him in?” His wolf howled inside, engaged at the mere thought. “Are you well versed in that now, too?”

“Mason!” Casey yelped with impatience and embarrassment.

Mason’s muscular arms bracketed Casey’s torso as he looked down at the younger shifter. That wasn’t an answer to his question and his wolf was unable to let it go. “You left here a virgin. Are you still one?”

Casey was caught off guard by the blunt question. “I’m not.”

Mason growled.

“Oh, come off it, Mason, I’m 20 years old. No one waits to find their mate any longer.” He’d heard lectures from some of the older members in the Alliance about how young shifters no longer held to the old tradition that otherworlders save their virginity until they found their lifemate. It was ridiculous.

Or was it?

He had never felt ashamed about things he had shared with Shelby. They were both grown-ups. It had always felt good. But now... with Mason’s eyes looking down on him... His stomach rolled a little, queasy with regret. “What business is it of yours anyways?” Casey hissed defensively. “I don’t have to answer to you.”

“Wrong. You’re my pack. That makes you mine.”

“I don’t belong to you!”

At his words, a haunted look stole over Mason’s eyes; one Casey couldn’t begin to understand.

Mason’s hand moved from the ground to Casey’s collar, giving it a jerk. “Then you should have just stayed the fuck away.”

The in the heavy silence that followed, Casey and Mason stared off tensely.

Surprisingly, Mason looked away first.

“We’re done here.” Mason finally spoke. “Back to house. Now.”

In moments, Mason’s human body melted away, wolf back in place. The wolf released a ferocious bark and then lopped off into the woods.

Shakily, Casey shifted back into his cat form. The jaguar’s coat blended into the shadows as he followed Mason’s scent trail back to the mansion. He caught up to Mason beside the mansion where they had stashed their clothes and shifted human to join Mason as he dressed.

Mason angrily jerked at the buttons on his pants. “I’m going to pull the truck around. Meet me in five.”

Casey nodded, watching Mason walk away. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he had to walk out to the front and face Mason again.

“Hey, kid.”

Casey turned at the hissed whisper. It was the guard. He felt a thread of hope; maybe his plan wasn’t totally ruined after all.

Casey approached, faking concern, “Are you alright? I’m so sorry about my Alpha, he had no right...”

“I’m fine; I was able to hold my own.”

Casey nearly snorted. Yeah, right, Mason could have spilled his guts with one paw tied behind his back. Instead of laughing at him outright, Casey nodded quickly and agreed, “I know.”

“I just didn’t want to hurt him, him being a guest and all.”

Casey nodded again, and this appeared to appease the guard. “So much self-control. I’m impressed. I wish I could stay and talk more. But my Alpha wants to leave now.”

“What?” Casey was surprised at how genuinely distressed the guard sounded. “The Run isn’t over. My Alpha is expecting guests to stay until dawn.”

“That’s usually how it works.” Casey agreed in appeasement. “But Alpha Rossi has decided to leave early.”

“But the – ” The guard cut himself off.

Casey looked at him oddly, but time was of the essence, the last thing he needed was Mason finding them together again and overreacting. “I have to go, Dwayne. But I’d like to see you again.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, kid. Without your Alpha, right?”

“Yeah, no Alpha, promise. Tomorrow?” He wanted Shelby found as soon as possible.

The guard preened a little, looking smug over Casey’s apparent eagerness. “Sure, kid. Come back tomorrow, we’ll...finish what we started.”

Casey felt he did a good job concealing his shutter of distain.

~~~

Casey made his way to the front just as Mason pulled the vehicle up. He climbed up into the cab. Unexpectedly tired, he curled against the window and slept the whole way home.

At the apartment building, Mason shook him awake and Casey trudged up the stairs, stumbling with a wooziness he blamed on lack of sleep. Mason followed close behind, assisting him each time he faltered. The older shifter didn’t look great either, his mouth was pinched and skin slightly ashen.

As soon as Mason opened the apartment door and ushered him in, Casey went into the bathroom. He needed to piss and splash some water on his face. After he had accomplished those tasks, he blinked blearily into the mirror, the light hurting his eyes.

Dried blood caught his eye, almost black in the low light. One side of his throat sported the healing scars from Mason’s bite yesterday – oval and human. The other side of his throat now had fresh bite marks, shaped differently, long and canine, from Mason’s wolf form. And there beneath the stark red marks, superfluous at this point, was the collar.

He lifted his hand to the collar, fingers trembling. He was so busy staring at the leather that he didn’t even notice his eyes – irises forming perfect feline slits – in the mirror.

~~~