Page 62 of White Wolf

Well, alright then.

“Nik,” Kolya protested.

He made a staying motion with one hand. “It’ll be alright.” Or he might get torn to bits. Who knew. Sasha might turn into an actual wolf. Anything, it seemed, was possible at the moment.

He approached slowly, one deliberate step after the next, arms held down at his sides, empty palms facing Sasha.I’m unarmed, I won’t hurt youhe tried to project. And alsoyou know me, you know me.

Sasha squeezed back against the concrete wall, fingers curled tight in the loose fabric of the gown pooling around his hips. Every muscle, tendon, and vein stood out in stark relief beneath his skin. His face was blank, nothing but blue eyes and bloody teeth, not an ounce of recognition or humanity.

Nikita stopped just out of reach and sank down onto his haunches. He tried to smile. “Hello, Sasha.”

A low growl echoed along the floor; he felt it more than heard it. But Sasha wiggled back, tried to get deeper beneath the shelf. Not a threat, but a plea.Go away. Leave me alone. In a back corner of his mind, behind the protective layers of order and authority, Nikita felt something break.

“What did he do to you?” he whispered. “Are you still in there, Sasha? It’s Nikita. Do you know me?” Not knowing what else to do, he extended the backs of his fingers for inspection, like he would when meeting a strange dog for the first time.

Sasha growled again, but his head lifted a fraction and his nostrils flared. Scenting, Nikita thought. Just like a canine.

“It’s okay. Come on.”

No one else in the room was speaking. He couldn’t even hear them shifting on their feet.

“Come on, Sasha. It’s me.”

Sasha stopped growling. Some of his tension seemed to ease, his knees gapping apart so his face peeped through them.

Nikita dared to inch a little closer.

Sasha leaned toward him, still testing the air with his nose. And then slowly, slowly, he uncoiled and shifted forward. Close. Closer.

Nikita felt a single, tooth-chattering lick of fear when Sasha leaned in and smelled the back of his hand like some strange animal thing instead of the boy he’d just been comforting on the table minutes before. He felt the hot, wet dart of Sasha’s tongue on his knuckles.

And then Sasha heaved a deep sigh and he went boneless. “Nikita,” he said, voice full of relief and checked tears. He slumped to the floor and crawled the last distance, curling up at Nikita’s side, head tipping to rest on his shoulder, letting Nikita support his weight.

Nikita sat very still, his heart pounding.

Sasha breathed a warm sigh against his neck, shut his eyes, and passed out.

16

BODARK

Nikita.

Good. Kind. Dangerous.

Friend.Pack.

There was so much pain. So many sounds. Andsmells.

Chaos. Too bright, too cold, toomuch.

He smelled blood, and something dead, and the rank fear-sweat of humans. Humans afraid ofhim.

He was hungry. And hehurt.

He wanted his family. His pack.

And then there was Nikita, good-smelling and soft-voiced, and trustworthy. Good, good, pack-Nikita.

---