Page 4 of Sigma
“So, what now?” he asks and he looks pissed.
I don’t blame him. I’m pissed, too. At myself, my situation. This shouldn’t be his problem. Regrettably, I let it become that.
We should’ve talked about it yesterday when he brought the trailer back. Or better yet, I should’ve hooked it to my truck and hauled ass out of here. But what felt unspoken was a chance to regroup after Silver Hills. I guess I told myself I’d take a day or two, catch my breath and think on what’s next. I should’ve known better.
I zip up my jeans and pull my T-shirt on before surveying my shoes. They were left too close and they’re completely shredded.
He’s waiting for me to answer. I have no fucking idea what to say. All I know is my body aches from head to toe, obviously from struggling against the irons, probably most of the night.
I sigh and thrust my hand through my hair. “Gonna piss.”
I step out and breathe in the dawn air here in this place that smells so right. I dread the thought of not being able to breathe this air. The same airshebreathes. I don’t know what the hell to do now. No, that’s not right. I do know. And I knew after that major blow up. I just didn’t want to do what I’ve known I’ve got to do. All this is on me.
Linc’s not by his truck when I round the tree. He must be waiting for me in the bunker still.
The other times we’ve done this, at this point he’s locked the bunker up and is waiting in the truck. This is where he and his council keep spare clothes, weapons, and other shit they might need if they head to or from town after shifting to wolves and leaving clothing behind. They rarely use it and haven’t been here in months, but Linc left a note inside the door.
Call me. Don’t release him. Don’t hurt him. – LF
He left that in case any of his council turned up while I was restrained and in my other form.
The spot is conveniently between the Arcana Falls village and the nearest town, out of the way. Linc and I constructed the setup with the shackles when we made the plan.
After guarding my truth from everyone since I first started to shift, too much booze and kinship with this guy had me showing my cards. I told him why I couldn’t be around anyone. I also confessed something to him that I don’t even admit to myself – that no, I’m not happy being alone all the time.
He suggested the experiment, proposing some standard cuffs and novelty sex toy type restraints he had, and I told him it wouldn’t do. He suggested heavy ropes. I said it had to be something that needed a key. Something that could contain a monster with King Kong or Godzilla-level strength who would and has chewed through rope.
He nudged and nudged. I decided to try. Being in the woods on the edge of the pack’s land sounded good. I visited his village, going for a beer and hanging out with some of his pack members.
Something about that night… being in an environment like that – I felt an inner peace I haven’t felt for the entirety of my adult life. I stayed a while, went off and did a few jobs and couldn’t wait to come back, feeling drawn to the area for some mystery reason.
I visited the bar in his village again after that and stayed another couple of weeks. And it felt like this could be enough. Being near a pack with contingency plans for lunar events, making sure I drive off at least once a week to shift where I know there’s little to no chance of an innocent getting hurt. Coming back when it’ssafe and having a little space that’s mine, that smells and feels right.
I should’ve known better.
That first experiment worked fine and gave us a false sense of security. Linc kept a distance, seeing the irons kept my wolf locked down, knowing if they didn’t hold me, he’d have a window to take the wolf down and get safe. We installed a barred gate behind the door, too, for extra security.
My concern that he was underestimating what would happen was refuted the next day when he told me how his wolf reacted. Linc found it surprising that his wolf didn’t show any signs of pushing to attack mine, despite how rabid mine was behaving at the sight of him. As much as an alpha is generally sympatico with his wolf, in dangerous situations a typical wolf will push through to protect. He didn’t have that urge. He again asked about investigating my birth defect.
I told him I didn’t want him digging into me. I didn’t want to wind up being clocked by the SCC who would remand me into custody so they could study me in one of their facilities. He didn’t push.
When I was visiting again and knew the moon phase could factor into an involuntary shift, I had him lock me down ahead of time.
We made a deal that if I feel it coming on and he can’t get to me in an hour, I’ll drive out of town and get as deep into one of the nature preserves as I can get, which I’ve also done preventatively once a week when I’m here, knowing I need to shift no less than that to keep the urges at bay.
The third time he locked me down ahead of a lunar event was when it all came to light. Why I’m drawn here. Why my days of breathing this air, feeling this earth under my feet were numbered.
Because when he got back the next morning to unshackle me, things went wrong. They went very fucking wrong. Because I soon figured out that the scent on him was what drew me to agree to be here, what made me want to be here, craving it when I’m away. And Linc saw firsthand I hadn’t been exaggerating about how bad the monster could be. He knew his previous sighting where I shifted voluntarily to show him what I’m dealing with wasn’t as bad as it could get. When I shift involuntarily, things get real bad, real fast.
He had to leave me chained for two more days, during which time he showered multiple times returning to see if it’d stop triggering me.
“She’s your fated mate. And you smelled her on me,” he reminded me by saying what he didn’t need to say, what we both knew. “Because I spent the night with her.”
I began to tremble from head to toes, cold fusing with me, threatening another shift, but far too exhausted from the previous few days where it was clear by how I was feeling that my wolf overexerted itself. It overexerted itself to the degree that it left this form exhausted as well.
“Don’t.”
I was parched. Hungry. Bruised. My muscles ached from what was obviously an extreme amount of exertion of the wolf trying to get out of the restraints.
