Rift. (Rewritten in 2010)

Spring, Year Two (3rd Moon)

"You're being unreasonable." Kriston was standing with his arms folded, gritting his teeth, barely keeping himself from growling at his soon-to-be bondmate.
"No, I'm not."
"Damon - "
"You said I wasn't your prisoner. I'm not at your beck and call; I can do as I like."
Kriston restrained a growl again.
"I'm not asking you to be at my beck and call. I'm just telling you that you must come to dinner tonight. This is not a matter of personal choice – it's diplomacy."
"I don't feel like it."
“But it's the Spring Festival. The rest of the pack is expecting to see you there."
“I don't care."
Kriston exhaled, exasperated.
“We have visitors in from around the continent! People want to meet you!"
Damon shrugged and went back to burying his head in the pillows.
“Maybe I don't want to meet them."
Kriston growled, deeply, which caught Damon's attention for a moment.
“You are the Alpha's mate. You don't ignore your own people. You have to come. Please."
"No. Fuck off." It felt like there was less than a half a second's pause before Damon was flipped over, on his back on the bed, with Kriston growling less than half an inch from his face.
“You will never speak that way to me. Never." Damon opened his mouth to reply, but Kriston's grip moved to his throat and silenced him. "Ever." Kriston released his throat and got off of him. "Now," he said, brushing himself off, "For the last time, Damon, will you please come with me to the banquet?"
Damon, who was glaring at the wolfe and rubbing his throat, shook his head.
"Never. Ever."
Kriston growled and turned on his heel. The door slammed shut behind him.

~~~

Downstairs, Garron and the other upper officers greeted him.
“No luck?” Garron inquired, cheerily, and Kriston wanted to snarl at him. What right did he have to be in such a good mood during the Spring Festival when Kriston was in such a terrible one? Garron, whose mate had taken on so fully and perfectly the responsibilities of his role; who had organized the banquet itself as well as half of the celebrations afterwards; who had negotiated with his wolfe that this would be the year in which he would carry his mate's first litter, a challenge on which the two had probably been furiously working all springtime. Kriston grunted. And his own mate, who wouldn't even come out of the room.
“No.” he answered, shortly, dressing in his warrior's clothes, “No luck.”
Garron laughed good-naturedly.
“Well, that will all change in time, Kriston, you'll see. And then you'll barely be able to remember this time, and he'll be so embarrassed he won't want you to mention it.” Garron chuckled again. “The Spring Festival when the Alpha's mate locked himself in his room.”
Kriston didn't laugh, and his stiff silence did not go unnoticed by the other wolfes. One, in particular, stepped forward to speak in a low voice to him.
“First Alpha Wolfe Kriston,” Péron began, “If I might be so bold.”
The addressed wolfe rolled his eyes.
“What is it, Péron?” he asked tiredly.
The wolfe bowed shortly, then spoke.
“If you are having trouble with your mate, my First, serious trouble, then perhaps you might consider allowing him to visit, for a short time, our Rehabilitation Centre.”
Garron raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt. Kriston hesitated.
“I don't need to send my mate away.” he answered, sharply. Péron raised two hands as if to fend off that accusation.
“No, My First, I did not mean to imply so. Just...some betas are more difficult than others. And as the Alpha of our pack, perhaps it would be too consuming for you to spend so much time improving your mate's behavior. The BRC could do it for you, in just a few weeks, My First. And your mate would be well taken care of – he would be unharmed. He would be given all the best attention of our counselors, as befits the Alpha's mate.”
Garron looked between Kriston and Péron. Kriston seemed to be considering it, or at least not immediately discrediting the idea.
“I believe it would be wise.” Péron added, simply, before stepping away.
Kriston nodded, then finished doing up the laces on his armor and avoided Garron's eyes.
“I'll consider it.” he said. “I'll think about it.”

~~~~~


Spring, Year Two (4th Moon)

Kriston threw his beta into the room, roughly releasing the grip on his arm. Damon laid where he'd been dropped, too weak to fight about it. Kriston turned to Alex.
"Fix him."
Alex stared bemusedly at Garron.
"Fix him how?"
"Make him act nice.”
"Act...nice.” Alex repeated, slowly. Kriston huffed in indignation.
"More docile." the wolfe punctuated his demand with a chin jerked in the general direction of his mate.
"Well, how docile do you want him?" Alex looked down skeptically at the man lying on the floor. "He seems pretty low-energy to me."
"He has to be docile enough to carry."
At this, Damon's head snapped up, his spirit refueled.
"Carry? For you? Like hell I will." Damon struggled to a sitting position and raised his chin defiantly. "You'll kill me first."
Kriston slapped him, hard across the face. Then, turning his attention back to Alex, he clarified,
"Psychologically docile." Kriston set his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest. The matter had already been settled in his mind. "He has to be mentally, as well as physically prepared to carry."
"I'll starve myself!" Damon interrupted. "I will! I'm not having puppies.'' He spat out the last word like poison. "Especially not your puppies." he added, for effect. Kriston growled until a glare from Alex quieted him.
"Enough. Kriston? Out."
The wolfe hesitated, and Alex looked pointedly towards the door. Damon narrowed his eyes at the departing figure.
"I'll starve myself. You'll kill me!" Kriston bristled and paused at the door, turning back to Alex.
"Teach him some discipline before I have to do it myself." he warned, then spun on his heel and left. As the door slammed, Alex turned to face Damon.
"Well, you are just one pretty idiot, aren't you?"
Damon shrugged.
"I'll be one pretty idiot without a litter." he responded. Alex rolled his eyes.
"And how long do you think that's really going to last? Take it from someone who knows - there are better options than what you're doing now."
Damon scoffed.
"I don't need your charity." he sneered.
Alex stared in disbelief for a minute, then shook his head.
"Headstrong, rude, and a pretty idiot." he got up and went over to help the younger man off of the floor and into a chair. "I'm on your side, you know, asshole."
"Nobody's on my side but me."
Alex took in a short calming breath.
"Right. Well, at least I've been in your position before. You've never been in mine. So let me tell you what I know."
Damon didn't protest, so Alex took that as acceptance.
"So I bet you think that being accepted as his mate has made you safe, don't you? You're thinking that since you're more or less stuck together now, he's just going to have to put up with whatever ridiculous behavior you can come up with - is that about right?"
Damon shrugged.
"It isn't wrong."
"Right. Well, you're an idiot. Because, first of all, you're not mated yet. You're not mated, you're not bonded, and Kriston technically owes you nothing. You think you're the first crazy human they've come by? You keep acting like this and the Council will declare you an unfit beta. They do that and you're out. Exiled at worst, sent to the BRC for indefinite rehabilitation at best. Nobody likes this option. You don't like eating the mashed up human chow they serve in that place every day. Kriston doesn't like sleeping alone. Nobody wins. So we avoid that. Option two: you manage, somehow, to get yourself bonded to Kriston, but you get so out of control about the litter that they end up having to force-breed you. Now only you lose. Kriston gets what he wants, the Council gets what they want, and you're equally as powerless and unpleasant as you are now."
Damon hesitated, and glanced up at Alex with those mesmerizing golden eyes.
"Well, what - what's my other option?"
"Well, you played the pissed-off mate card far too early, so that's off the table. Kriston's probably so used to your cranky attitude by now that he wouldn't even notice if it got worse. You don't have much here, honestly. So you're going to have to give something to get something. Tell him you'll have the litter - "
"No!"
Alex sighed a long-suffering sigh and continued.
"Tell him you'll have the litter, but only under certain conditions."
"And then?"
"And then name those conditions. After all your antics, it'll probably seem like the best thing he's heard since Peace, and he will be obligated to accept."
"Oh." Damon said, blinking. "OK…"
"OK?"
"OK. But then…" he furrowed his brow, wrinkling his nose fetchingly. "But then won't I still have to have the litter at some point?"
Alex stared at the young man and wondered if perhaps he'd suffered some kind of head injury, or if all 21-year-olds were this dense.
"Yes. You will still have to have the litter, eventually."
"Well, fuck that, then."
Alex groaned.
"Come on, kid, get over it!'' he snapped. "Yeah, we're here, and it's fucked up and it's creepy, and it's bizarre, but it's all we have. It's all anybody has. Go ahead, run away. What are you running to? Sleepless nights, spent hoping you don't get eaten or maimed, or end up trapped in the territory of some lonely Lout?" Alex sighed, frustrated. "Nobody wants to live like that. It's not natural. It's not a human way to live. But this place...the Pack is like a second chance at life. You'll miss it when it's too late." Damon was silent for a long time, and Alex hoped that maybe he'd gotten through to the younger human. Eventually, he lifted his head again and those golden eyes burned with determination.
"No, sorry. Fuck. That. Wolfe."

~~~~~

“So you're going to call him?” Garron asked, trailing Kriston through the hallways to the Alphas' Suite.
“Who? Péron?”
Kriston tried to keep the anger out of his voice when he spoke to his First, but it leaked through. His rage at his clever little mate, who had managed to destroy half of Kriston's quarters in a vengeful fury earlier that day, was overwhelming. Garron nodded.
“Who else?”
Kriston shrugged.
“I might.”
“Don't.”
At this, the brown wolfe stopped walking and turned in the empty hall to face his First.
“Why not?”
Garron hesitated, then shrugged.
“No need. Just beat him more.”
“I don't think idle beatings are the answer. Why don't you trust Péron?”
Garron's brow furrowed.
“It's not that I don't trust him. It's that I'm suspicious of him.”
Kriston raised an eyebrow.
“What's the difference?”
“The difference is that I don't have any evidence for my feelings.” Garron responded, then added, “Yet.”
Kriston flashed back briefly to that strange comment Damon had made in the cell on the first day he'd arrived, but dismissed it.
“Péron has always been faithful. He's just a wolfe of the other camp, and set in his ways.” Kriston peered more deeply into his First's face. “But thinking that betas ought to behave more submissively than they do doesn't make him a criminal.”
Garron was quiet for a moment, then answered,
“Perhaps you're right, My Second.” there was a pause between them, then Garron added. “I expect you're right.”

~~~~~