"I can't."My Charlie.But he was never going to be mine, was he?
"In the morning, if he's still here, one of us will rent a car and drive him to the airport and pay for his ticket home. You are going to stay away from him. You can't change him. You can't spend your life trying. Leave him be. That's final."
"I can't," I said again, tears choking me. I was being dramatic and awful and useless, but I couldn't let it go. Somebody had hurt my Charlie, and I had to go to him right the fuck now. I finally ducked and dodged past Dad, yanked the door open, and ran.
"Russell!" called Mom, sounding alarmed. But she didn't know what it was like. She had her mate, and he loved her back. They'd fallen in love and had committed to each other within a week of their first meeting. She could never understand how it felt to have Charlie as my mate and know he'd never want me, that I disgusted him.
I still needed to go to him. I needed him to be okay.
Worst of all was knowing I'd helped to hurt him. I'd reminded him of bad things, of someone else hurting him. I'd made him feel even worse already.
I yanked off clothes as I ran, stumbling, tripping, and shifted before I was completely free. There was a ripping sound, and I left the rest of my clothes behind me.
I ran to my Charlie.
I could always smell him, of course, would always know where he was. I found him easily enough in the back pasture. He'd walked or run a long way, since he'd just been talking to Dad minutes ago. He smelled of sweat and stress and something like grief. He also smelled mad. He'd sunk down to lie in the long meadow grass, not visible, but easily smellable.
I came up to him slowly, making a little whimpering sound to warn him of my approach. The wind was wrong, and he might not smell me or hear me over the sound of the swaying grass. I could smell him, though. Was he crying? He sounded like he was crying.
Charlie. I stopped, looking down at him in the grass. He was lying in a slightly contorted position, as if he'd slumped down and couldn't even bother to get comfortable. He stared up at me with wet eyes, bleak and hopeless, a stubborn anger still on his face.
He smelled like despair. He wouldn't hurt himself, would he? I needed him to live, to survive, even if he could never love me back.
I eased down beside him, belly low to the ground, tail wagging appeasingly. I eased up beside him till our sides were pressing together and I could reach his face with my tongue. I licked at his tears, whimpering, trying to tell him how sorry I was for everything, for all of it.
"I hate you," he said, rolling away from me.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
"Fuck you," he said in a choked and cracking voice. "It's not fair. You should've told me sooner, and I could've said go to hell. You didn't have to wait three whole years."
I know. I'm sorry. I wish I'd known what to do.I moved around to his other side and licked his forehead gently, trying to tell him in my own way.I'm sorry.
He snorted. "You're not. You'll never quit, will you?"
I lay down close to him and stopped licking him. He needed me here; I knew that in my gut. No matter what he said or did, he needed me here right now, and if I turned and walked away, something terrible might happen.
He put an arm around me. "I hate you," he said, his voice muffled and tearful as he buried his face in my fur. His fingers dug into my ruff. I wanted to bite him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to fix this, but I never could.
I'll never hurt you again. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
He stayed in the meadow for a long time. I didn't leave his side. Every once in a while, he'd tell me I disgusted him, or he hated me, or something else that cut deep. But he didn't take his hand off me or roll away again. Once in a while, he stroked my fur in a distracted, hurting sort of way. He was still in a great deal of pain.
The sun began to go down. My brother brought us some food, pork sandwiches and fried potatoes. It smelled delicious. Charlie wouldn't sit up or look at him, and I wasn't going to leave Charlie's side, so I just wagged my tail at Aaron to express my thanks. He put the tray down close to our heads. I could reach it now without moving. Charlie could reach it easily with his human hands.
Aaron stared at us for a long moment, shook his head, and walked away, his shoulders slumped. He didn't know how it was, either, but he could guess.
I nudged Charlie to try to get him to eat something, but he shook his head. He pressed his face against my fur, hiding it. Of course I couldn't move then, and really, he mattered a lot more than food. We let it get cold as the sun went down.
Eventually, Charlie's body loosened and his breath became even, with the slightest of faint snores. I could move enough to reach the food without waking him, and I did so. I had to keep my strength up for both of us now. I ate quietly and then settled down next to him again. I wanted to lick his chin, but that might wake him up. I stared at his tired, tear-streaked face, at the pain and weariness he displayed even in his sleep.
That was why he couldn't stand to be around me when we were both humans, or both wolves. He couldn't feel any attraction now, but when we were both the same, he must have had some sort of feeling that was there in the background and unacknowledged between us, and it had tormented him.
Tormented him because he didn't believe in mates, he didn't trust me, and someone had once hurt him so badly he didn't even believe in love.
He was never going to trust me again, was he? I didn't blame him.
He murmured something in his sleep and rolled closer, arm around me like a hug.
