Connor and the Wolves - 30. Consequences

Soren jogged slowly down the road. His legs had fallen into a comfortable numbness two kilometres ago, leaving him free to run mindlessly. It was the perfect time to think.
He couldn’t avoid Kurt forever. Leaving for school half an hour early to avoid seeing her on the road wouldn’t shield him from her rage when they were at school. Soren would certainly have to face her in the WolfRoom. Hopefully, with Samuel’s help, the meeting wouldn’t blow up too badly.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. No one had his number, and a message on PackTalk could only be one person. Soren wasn’t eager to start the conflict early. He ignored the buzzing.
The usual line of traffic filled the highway ahead, pushing slowly into Astara. Soren picked up his pace; he hadn’t seen Kurt’s blue truck yet. If he could make it past the start of the traffic, then they wouldn’t meet until-
A horn honked behind him. Tensing, Soren jogged toward the side of the road, continuing his barefoot run through the sharp gravel beside the road. The horn blared again, insistently, and the mage reluctantly turned his head.
Kurt glared at him through the window of her truck. She jerked her hand at the door. Soren noted that Altanchono was still missing — was it possible his parents were homeschooling him? He hadn’t been in school last week either. John didn’t seem to mind; his nose was still buried in a book. Something about Askani history? It looked like a textbook. Couldn’t the neko find a normal book to read?
Pulling his mind back to the present, Soren grunted, trudging back onto the road. Just play it cool. Obviously Kurt couldn’t be that pissed if she was giving him a ride.
He opened the door.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Okay, she was that pissed.
Briefly, Soren contemplated shutting the door. If he could get to the other cars before Khurtschono reacted, she couldn’t do that much damage.
Grunting in defeat, he slid into the truck, closing the door behind him.
“Good morning,” the mage muttered.
“Good morning?” Kurt echoed. “You didn’t bother showing up. I thought you were sick again! I was this close to sending Aav to check on you, but he had to go to work!”
“Wait… I thought you wouldn’t want-”
“I’ve been giving you rides all week. Ma’s been keeping Altanchono home so you two don’t have to deal with each other. We’re not going to stop that just because you pissed me off. Look at you; your feet are already bleeding!”
Soren grimaced, staring at the scrapes on his feet. He’d had worse, but telling Kurt that seemed counterproductive. Instead, he pulled out his phone. A quick swipe to deal with Kurt’s message made him pause.
“Connor messaged me?”
“Well yeah. You claimed him as your mate. What did you expect, to just fuck him and be on your way?” Kurt took a swig from a mug in the cup holder. The scent of wolfsbane punched Soren’s nose, and he grimaced.
“We didn’t-”
“I know you didn’t,” Kurt grumbled. “For all his teasing, NekoWolf isn’t that irresponsible.”
Soren winced at the thinly-veiled insinuation. Staring at his phone, it took him a moment to actually open the message.
‘Good morning.’
A picture of Connor’s wrist was attached to the message, resting over his lap. The acorn bracelet Soren made rested on his wrist.
Another message came as he stared.
‘Be honest, did you notice the bracelet first, or my crotch?😛’
Soren blinked. Wait… was he supposed to notice Connor’s groin? It was nice, now that Connor mentioned it — Soren could just see the outline of the man’s-
He shook his head, trying to fight the tensing of his own crotch. Beside him, Kurt’s nose wrinkled.
“Keep it in your pants,” she muttered, creeping forward with the traffic.
“I-” Soren cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? The evidence was already there; Connor aroused him. If they were mates, that was normal. He should just go with it. “Sorry,” he muttered, willing his erection to go down.
His fingers slowly picked out a reply across the small keyboard. The car swayed around him as he typed, and nausea crept into his stomach.
‘You’re wearing the bracelet.’
Soren squeezed his eyes shut as the car turned. His stomach churned — a sure sign of motion sickness — and he was not about to vomit in Kurt’s car. She was pissed enough at him without making it worse. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he ignored the vibrations from another message.
“Altanchono is not someone to copy,” Kurt said suddenly as they pulled into the school’s car park. “After what he did, I don’t see how you could pull the same shit.”
“Connor’s my mate-”
“Yeah? You don’t see me throwing myself at my mate, do you?”
Kurt sucked in a sharp breath. She pulled into a parking spot and shut off the car.
The silence stretched.
“You have a mate?”
Soren didn’t know why it hurt so bad. Kurt had already rejected him — was it because of this mate?
“Forget it,” Kurt grumbled, stepping out of the car. “I’ll see you in the WolfRoom.”

He felt like every eye was on him. The WolfRoom was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place where people could feel safe. Yet the room felt hostile this morning, as though everyone was judging him.
Soren curled up in a beanbag chair, cradling his cup of black tea. He didn’t exactly need the caffeine — he was awake enough. But it gave him something to do while trying not to notice everyone’s glares.
“Hey.” His head shot up and he stared wide-eyed at a tigeresque neko. “Are you okay? You seem a little fidgety.”
Soren couldn’t remember the last time a wolf had actually talked to him in the room. Sure, Samuel spoke with him often enough, but he was a teacher; he was supposed to ask about things. Who was this neko, and why did he care about Soren?
“Uh… yeah, I’m okay,” Soren muttered, sipping at his tea.
The werewolf didn’t sound angry. Was Soren just misreading the room? It wouldn’t be the first time. The tiger neko — Itumak, Soren remembered — hadn’t even been at the race.
The bell rang to end the first period, and Soren stood up quickly, rushing to leave before anyone could protest.
“Whoa, slow down there Soren,” Samuel said, cutting him off before he could reach the door. “I’d like to have a chat with you before you head out for the day.”
The other wolves slipped past him, escaping through the door. Kurt glanced at him for a moment, her face unreadable. Then she, too, was gone, leaving Soren alone.
“Have a seat,” Samuel suggested, pouring a cup of tea.
Reluctantly, Soren dropped into a wolf bed.
“So. You had a rather eventful Varyal,” Samuel began. “Met your mate?”
“Uh… yeah,” Soren muttered.
“Exciting times. You caused quite a scare though. It surprised a lot of us really — here you are, this quiet wolf who never gets into trouble, and suddenly you’re rushing across the track to grab your mate.”
“I’m sorry.” It felt like the right thing to say. Soren stared at his lap, his face burning. He tried not to fidget too much.
“Look, I get it, Soren. When I met my mate, it was all I could do not to blurt out to the world. But you have to control yourself. You have to be respectful of those around you. Especially because werewolves are held under a microscope. Any misbehaviour by one wolf reflects poorly on all of us.”
He wasn’t a werewolf. He could say it right now, be done with the whole thing.
“I-” Soren croaked, his mouth closing. He cleared his throat, returning to his stare. He couldn’t say it.
“I know you meant no harm. And you’re not going to be punished or anything. I’ve even smoothed things over with Miles so you can keep your spot on the team,” Samuel said. “But you have to be more careful. Understood?”
“Yes,” Soren breathed.
“Good. You can go to class now. And remember, if you need to talk about anything, I’ll be here. This is an exciting and confusing time in your life, and having someone to talk to can really help.” Samuel smiled encouragingly, a smile Soren couldn’t return.
Picking himself up, the mage trudged from the room. He paused at the door, glancing back at Samuel.
“Um… Werewolves… don’t have to have sex, right?”
A shudder swept through him as he asked the question, but it was out in the open now.
Samuel blinked, startled.
“Er… no, I suppose they don’t. The mating urge can be strong, but there’s no reason mates have to… well, mate.” He frowned at Soren. “Is your mate pressuring you? Usually it’s the other way around, but-”
“No, I just… no, he’s not,” Soren said awkwardly. “Thanks.”
Before he could embarrass himself any further, the mage fled from the room.

Kurt’s locker slammed shut. Soren flinched at the sharp clang, kneeling beside his own locker. The werewolf was already shifted — there was little hope of talking things out now. Maybe Soren could catch her before the afternoon’s practice.
But hadn’t they talked in the car? He’d apologised, he’d explained himself. Hadn’t that been enough? It wasn’t like Connor was upset that Soren had claimed him. If anything, Connor seemed more excited than Soren should have been. So why did Kurt seem personally offended by all of this?
All he’d done was try to help her.
Soren shut the door to his stall, dropping to all fours. A minute later, he was trotting out to the track, his tail low. He could already see Kurt jumping on the field, working out her muscles after shifting.
The mage headed away from her, joining Gansukh as the lilac wolf walked through his stretches. His presence clearly wasn’t wanted. Soren would give Kurt her space.
“Everyone, gather round!” Miles called the wolves to order. “Today, we’re practising hurdles. I want everyone to separate into heats of four. Everyone who runs track, we’ll be working on something else. Gansukh, will you help the hurdlers please?”
The lilac wolf grunted, leading a group of wolves away. Soren watched him go, feeling strangely vulnerable. Not that Gansukh had actually protected him from Kurt’s searing glare — if anything, Soren felt like the glaring had increased.
“Before we begin, I would like to bring up Varyal,” Miles said. “As many of you are aware, the werewolf track team had an incident.”
Soren’s heart plummeted. Miles wouldn’t….
“One of the team’s members assaulted a human, claiming them as their mate. I will not be naming names, and I will not tolerate any mistreatment of the individual.”
He did it. Soren tried to hold back a groan as Kurt’s glare burned a hole in his side.
“I merely wish to inform you that, as of Varyal, every werewolf team Elias Academy has is now under strict probation. Each wolf will be scrutinised, and any misbehaviour will result in the team’s suspension from any events for the season.” A chorus of barks and growls met Miles’ words. The elf held up a hand, waiting for silence before continuing. “The instigator will be banned from participating in any extracurricular activity for the rest of their time at Elias Academy, potentially facing expulsion. Elias Academy takes werewolf relations with non-wolves seriously. We are a pack school. We are judged to a higher degree than any other school. The actions of one individual can ruin us all. Bear that in mind when representing our school in any form.”
Soren’s tail tucked firmly between his legs. He stared at the ground, almost as intently as Kurt was staring at him. How had he fucked up so bad? Connor was happy. Why was everyone making such a big deal over this?
The team broke apart, heading to work on whatever task Miles had set them to. Soren trudged away from the track, slipping back into the locker room. He doubted his absence would be noted. Besides, he had already ruined things for the team. It was best for him to just leave.