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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Damian's Wolf - 22. The Howl

This chapter has a trigger warning for depression and suicide. Reader discretion is advised.

Jordan drank another glass of water, feeling frustrated. He’d just blacked out, it wasn’t like he was dying. Yet Lysander had left him at the hospital while he took Damian and the baby back to the apartment. There were other things Jordan could be doing, like picking up food for the baby. But here he sat, alone in another examination room, waiting for a doctor to tell him he was free to go.

And there it was, the knock on the door. He set the paper cup aside, glaring as he waited for the door to open.

“Knock knock,” Lysander said, stepping into the room.

Strange, he was expecting the doctor. Still, Lysander gave him someone to blow off steam with.

“So, am I allowed to leave now?” Jordan demanded.

“No.”

“What the fuck do you mean no? I sat down, I drank the-”

Lysander crossed the room in an instant, finger pressing against Jordan’s lips. Grabbing the man’s wrist, he pulled Jordan out of his seat and pushed him back against the wall.

“No arguing with the doctor,” the elf grinned.

“You’re not-”

Cool, slender fingers wrapped around Jordan’s throat, Lysander cupping the man’s jaw lightly. Still, it had the desired effect, Jordan fighting to swallow against the pressure.

“Now?” he breathed hoarsely, the word grating in his ears.

“Oh no, this is just a warm up,” Lysander denied, pressing his lips into Jordan’s.

His free hand ran down the man’s torso, stroking the werewolf’s growing bulge.

“Just… a little… tease…”

Each word was punctuated with a slight squeeze, Jordan letting out the tiniest whimper. Stepping back, Lysander released him, Jordan stumbling slightly.

“Now we can go. But no more surprises for you today.”

“I… yeah…”

Jordan blinked and swallowed, clearing his throat.

“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered.

 

They drove in silence, Jordan scowling the entire way. Lysander had gone shopping before picking him up, buying everything Jordan had been planning to get. Sure it saved them time and money, but they were supposed to work together to raise Damian’s son.

“So tell me, are you more upset that I did it on my own, or that I didn’t ask first?”

Lysander smiled at the guard as she waved them through, the truck rumbling into the complex.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, well if you look at everything since we met, you haven’t exactly been the head wolf. I think it might be grating on you. I can certainly accept some blame for that; I enjoy taking care of others and I’ve naturally taken over that aspect of our relationship. It hasn’t really left much for you to do.”

“We’ve known each other for two days. I hardly think you can know me that well in such a short time. I don’t need to be ‘head wolf’. I don’t want to be any wolf.”

Lysander shut off the truck with a shrug.

“Wrong choice of words. I’m sorry,” he said. “Look, it’s barely two in the afternoon. Why don’t we take everything inside and maybe you and I can go out for lunch.”

“I don’t think so. I want to make sure Damian is doing okay. He did just become a father.”

Lysander nodded, opening the door. Jordan darted around the truck, lifting a large box off the back. Lysander chuckled quietly, hoisting a pink bag over his shoulder. His arms tensed with the weight and Jordan realized he had been given the lighter burden.

Grumbling quietly, the man carried the crib to the apartment, scowling at any curious faces.

“Hey Karen,” Lysander smiled at a woman as they neared their apartment.

“Hey there. You helping someone move in?”

“Oh no, he moved in with me two days ago. We just picked up a few more things.”

The woman’s smile turned into a slight frown at the implications.

“Congratulations you two,” she said before hurrying away.

Lysander sighed, shaking his head.

“Woman’s been after me since I moved in,” he said.

“I’m surprised she didn’t know yet,” Jordan scoffed.

“Why would she?”

“Well Damian’s ex sure seemed to know we were living together.”

“Nekos are a very social race. They tend to know a lot about what happens with other nekos, even when that neko happens to be in a different city,” Lysander shrugged.

The elf unlocked their apartment, stepping inside. Jordan followed, a stench driving into his nose. The werewolves both gagged.

“I think he pooped… we don’t have any nappies,” Damian said, seated on the floor.

“I’m working on it Damian!” Arisa called from down the hall.

“Don’t worry, I picked some up,” Lysander said, letting the bag fall onto the couch.

“I don’t know what I’m doing… I’m a horrible father-”

Jordan set the crib aside, taking the small neko from Damian so the cat could stand.

“I got him,” Lysander said, Jordan passing the baby to him.

Jordan helped Damian to his feet, his arms wrapping tightly around the neko as Arisa came out of the hall.

“Uh, that’s not how you change a baby,” she said, watching Lysander.

“I am rather new to this. Maybe you could show us?” Lysander suggested.

As Arisa crossed the room, Jordan took Damian aside.

“You aren’t a horrible father,” he said quietly. “We just weren’t prepared for this.”

“I can’t even figure out a name for him.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Everything is okay Damian.”

The neko laughed weakly.

“Sorry, I’m a mess…” he hiccoughed.

“Well who wouldn’t be? Here we thought you were this innocent little kitten and now you have a child,” Arisa spoke up, handing the clean baby back to Lysander.

Jordan glared at her over Damian’s shoulder.

“That’s not helping.”

Someone knocked on the door suddenly, cutting through the noise of the apartment.

“Damian, can you get that? Jordan and I need to set up the crib for sialena,” Lysander said.

Damian took his son from Lysander, Arisa shaking her head.

“I’ll get the door,” she said as Jordan picked up the crib.

Following Lysander into the elf’s room, Jordan set the box down.

“You really are a sweetheart under all that anger,” Lysander smirked.

“Not too loud or the elves will hear…”

“Too late…”

He stepped into Jordan, walking him back against a wall. Jordan kissed the wolf gently, the anxiety of the day seeming to melt away under Lysander’s gaze.

“You seem to like your walls,” he said.

“They’re rather convenient. I think everyone will be using walls someday,” Lysander chuckled. “Aerael, I know we’ve only known each other for two days, but would you consider officially becoming my mate?”

Jordan chewed on his lip, staring into the elf’s eyes. Slowly, he shook his head no.

“I can’t. I’m with Damian-”

“Wolves can have multiple mates. We both know this. Think about it at least?”

Lysander pressed his lips against Jordan’s, his hands trailing over the man’s body. Suddenly he was yanked back, Arisa’s fist connecting with his eye.

“What the fuck Arisa?” Jordan yelped.

“Ey salei! He has a mate!” the elf snarled at Lysander.

“Yeah, I do. Two of them. Why the hell would you come barging in here like that?!”

“He was… you were… WHY THE FUCK DIDN”T YOU WARN ME?!”

Jordan helped Lysander to his feet, the elf wincing as he touched his eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Nice shot…” Lysander muttered.

“Maybe you should go,” Jordan said, turning to Arisa.

“I was-”

Arisa let out a quiet sigh.

“Yeah, maybe I should,” she agreed, leaving the room.

“I’m going to get some ice for this. Why don’t you start setting the crib up?”

Lysander followed the other elf out, Jordan groaning quietly. This was not his day…

 

The werewolf lay curled up in his bed. The crib was built, Lysander was cared for, there was nothing else he had to do.

He could hear them talking in the living room, smell the dinner Damian was cooking. But even that didn’t rouse him. Jordan just needed some time alone.

The day had started out so nicely, taking that shower with Damian, playing with both of his mates. It was barely five in the evening. Jordan shouldn’t even be home yet and he was exhausted from the day.

Lysander walked past the room, slipping into his bedroom. Moments later, he walked back out on all fours, pausing at Jordan’s door.

“I doubt it will help,” Jordan said to the unvoiced question.

Lysander shook his head slowly, walking away. Jordan sighed quietly, rolling over to curl up the other way.

Minutes later, he heard the howling of a wolf, lonely and heartbreaking. The sound tore at his heart, drawing a response from his wolf.

Pulling off his clothes, Jordan shifted, his wolf padding quietly out of the room. He found Damian sitting with silent tears in his eyes, gently rocking his son to sleep.

“You heard?” the neko asked quietly.

He hadn’t heard anything, only the call of the wolf. But as other wolves joined in, adding to the melancholy howl, Jordan knew he needed to be outside, with his pack.

He slipped through the wolf door, a late summer breeze ruffling his fur as he stood, listening to the howls. Raising his head, the werewolf added his voice to the howls, another wolf paying his respects to the sad, the broken. It felt so freeing, getting his emotions out like this. Now he understood why wolves howled so often.

The howls died down, Jordan laying on the ground in front of the door. He didn’t really want to go back inside, not yet.

A body dropped beside him, Lysander sniffing at the wolf. Jordan huffed quietly, laying his head back on his feet. He felt like crying, and he didn’t know why. Both Damian and Lysander seemed upset, and he wondered if it had to do with the howl.

A lone wolf walked past, ears low and tail between her legs. She paused, looking at Jordan and Lysander. The white wolf stood up, and the other wolf turned her head, letting out a long and mournful howl.

They joined in, for how could they not? A song for the departed, Jordan realized, for a mate who would never come home. As the wolf moved on, another howl finished, Jordan stood up, returning indoors. He walked slowly through the apartment, ignoring Damian’s eyes watching him.

Nosing open the door to the bathroom, Jordan entered the room, hind legs closing the door behind him. He shifted, getting into the tub before turning the hot water on.

It scalded him, liquid fire washing his inner pain away with outer. Slowly, the werewolf added cold water, sitting to let the rain fall over him.

There was a thump at the door and it opened, Lysander poking his nose inside.

“Come in,” Jordan said quietly, moving back in the tub.

Lysander closed the door, padding silently to the tub. He jumped in, sitting in front of Jordan before letting his body switch to his elf form.

“Do you know what happened?” the elf asked.

“Her mate died.”

Lysander nodded.

“Most of the pack was out there tonight. It’s hard on us all, but it hits her the hardest. She and Jacob were nearly inseparable.”

Lysander leaned back slowly, Jordan wrapping his arms around him.

“That was Sara?”

The elf nodded, confirming Jordan’s fears. The officer Halor had shot… Jacob had gone to get the money back from him.

“Do you know what it means to take the Bane?” Lysander questioned.

“No…”

“Wolf’s bane is poisonous to us. If we take small doses, mixed with certain curatives, it puts our wolves to sleep for a time.”

Lysander took a deep breath, trembling in Jordan’s arms.

“But… But in larger doses, it is lethal. A wolf who loses their mate can go on, but often they feel like they can’t. Either they recover from the death and live the rest of their life alone… or they take the Bane.”

“She wants to,” Jordan said quietly.

A sob escaped the elf, Lysander turning until he was curled up in Jordan’s arms.

“Sh- She’s going to wait the day out… She has to, it’s pack law. But she wants me to give it to her.”

“Why you?”

“I was the one who introduced them,” Lysander choked. “I helped them find each other. Sara said it would make her feel better if I was there for the end as well.”

Jordan held him tightly as Lysander cried into his chest.

“I don’t want to kill my best friend!”

“Then don’t. She can’t ask you to do this.”

“I don’t- I can’t… I have to be there for her. I love her too much to let her face this on her own.”

He hiccoughed into Jordan’s body, his tears mixing with the water.

“It… I just feel like… like she shouldn’t have told me, you know? Because now I have to mourn for her twice. And I hate that I feel that way. She’s fucking dying and I can’t handle a little emotional stress for her…”

Jordan was silent, running his fingers gently through Lysander’s hair. He wasn’t sure what he should do or say, but fingers in his scalp had always felt good to him, and he hoped the feeling would help Lysander.

“I’m sorry. You probably came in here to be alone,” Lysander said quietly.

“I can still support you even when I’m down. Don’t ever be afraid to lean on me Lysander.”

His lips pressed lightly into the elf’s head, Lysander’s eyes closing as his legs stretched out. His body still shook in Jordan’s arms, tiny sobs eventually giving way to soft snores as the elf cried himself to sleep.

This chapter was rather hard for me to finish. But I will press onward, with the hope that the next chapter will bring happier news for our new fathers.

Copyright © 2019 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

2 hours ago, drpaladin said:

I don't see Halor as a strategic, multilayered planner, unless he was getting direction from someone else.

Hence my prior observation that he may have been under the influence of a magic user. Again, Halor appears to have been a slacker, and petty, but a murderer? Seems to be out of character. 

2 hours ago, drpaladin said:

Jordan, who tries to suppress his wolf, wouldn't be likely to try and find the culprit on his own. Instinct aside, he hasn't really trained himself to narrow down and track specific scents.

In the heat of the moment, if Jordan had caught the scent trail, would he have ignored it?  I doubt it, as he knows Halor and would not be expecting him to wield a gun.  That said, he was not the first to pick up the scent trail, so he certainly could have been suppressing his wolf, though this may have been a miscalculation by Halor or his puppet master (if there is one). 

Edited by travlbug
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2 minutes ago, Geron Kees said:

Ah, okay. The baby is a HE.

I agree with what was said by others about wolf grief: why end your life if you can have more than one mate? I'm sorry for Sara's loss, but exiting the world herself is not the answer. Jacob would not want that.

The thing with Halor has grown hair. I'd forgotten about the traces the magic user left when sealing the door at the fire. Halor did not strike me as the mastermind sort. He certainly didn't go out like one. So we have someone lurking in the dark as yet, apparently.

I guess it's just a wait-and-see thing, huh? Just have to be patient with the author, and hope he leads us to the answers.

That would be you! :)

 

 

You give me too much credit. I am merely scribing the story. It is the characters that tell me where to go.

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7 hours ago, Will Hawkins said:

Yeoldebard is correct, when writing a story, it is frequently the characters that tell he author which way to go. In a story, the characters frequently take on a life of their own and lead the direction of the tale down their selected path.

I agree with that. Characters develop an identity strong enough that you can actually run into problems presenting their stories, because to have them say or do some things would be...out of character. :)

 

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The problem with being behind the rest means you all know what happens next and I don't.  So...for what it is worth, Sarah isn't dead yet.  I hope that someone can talk to her before the end of the 24 hour period, and give her some hope that her life is worth a lot to many friends old and new.  (I personally would like Damian to suggest that a baby with three fathers, needs a strong feminine figure in his life.  It would give Sarah some sense of belonging and a duty to someone in need.)  Yeoldebard...you're getting good at getting us very emotionally involved with these characters.

Edited by raven1
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