"I should take him away so he can get some sleep," said Russ, half-rising, holding me under the front legs so I couldn't struggle properly away from him.
"No, that's okay," said Sahil quickly. "He can stay. I like the company, to be honest." He reached out with his delicate hand and touched my muzzle. I closed my eyes, reveling in his touch. Russ's grip on me tightened painfully, but I didn't care. Sahil wanted me. He loved me, he did, and I would take these scraps.
Russ almost tossed me down and rose hurriedly. The bed creaked with his absence, too. "Well. I'll just leave you to it, then, shall I?" His voice sounded tight, possibly a little hurt.
"You can stay if you wish," said Sahil, ever polite.
No, don't offer! I turned to glare up at Russ, narrowing my eyes, warning him he'd better not accept.
For a second he eyed me with hostile wrath. Then he reached up to rub at his temple. "No, I sleep better alone, I guess."
He left the room with Sahil staring in a puzzled way after him. I took the opportunity to edge closer to Sahil and rest my head on his thigh. Ah. It felt so good to be close to him! I could never get enough of it.
He stroked a hand absently over my fur, and I shivered in contentment. "I wonder what's wrong with him? He didn't seem like himself." He looked down and met my gaze. "Do you know?"
I gave him my blankest, most innocent look and licked his slim wrist. He smiled, drawing away from me, and fed me another graham cracker, playing absently with my ears with his other hand.
This was living.
#
Istayed with Sahil all that night. He slept restlessly, but I pressed close, offering him what warmth and comfort I could with my furry presence. His husband was also a wolf shifter, and he liked wolves (and all shifters) a lot. Being close to me, feeling warmth and safety, was something he liked. I was not a husband substitute, I knew that, but I was something on a lonely, cold night when he would probably have cried himself to sleep otherwise.
For all his fierce ways (and Sahil could be surprisingly fierce in defense of those he loved or needed to protect), Sahil had a fragile, easily hurt heart, and he minded it dreadfully every time Grant Ralstead was away. His husband, being a rich businessman, of course had to travel a lot for work or for their rescue projects.
They also ran the Shifters and Partners program together, although there was a lot more help these days. They'd expanded the program into many arms, certifying and training cops and shifters to work together all around the country. There was also a medical wing, various consultant positions, etc. There was a lot of work involved, even with a lot of delegation.
Sahil was much less likely to recruit shifters in a hands-on way for the program these days. There were other methods of outreach now. But he'd recruited me himself — and he kept me for his own teams. Not for cops. Not for strangers. Forhim.
Technically, I answered to him alone, not his husband. Which was good, because it was hard for me to be around Grant. He was so big and lordly and strong, and so very smug about having Sahil.
And most of all, Sahil was so sappily in love with him, leaping into his husband's arms and kissing him desperately, unashamed to show how much he cared, even though Sahil was the most buttoned-down person ever around strangers and enemies. Only with friends — and Grant — did he show his fiercely sweet, loving nature.
It hurt every time. I had to excuse myself so I didn't accidently see their reunions. My heart hurt to witness it and not have it. I would never be in Sahil's life in place ofthat person. I wasn't his hero, his beloved. That would always be someone else.
No doubt Grant Ralstead was a perfectly nice person if you weren't horribly jealous of him. But I was. He was rich, confident, swaggering, and generous, as well as extremely fit and strong — and he had Sahil. I could never like him, no matter how I tried.
And Ihadtried. I'd tried to resign myself to being happy for the man I loved. But I loathed Grant Ralstead with a passion. He was so freaking perfect, there would never have been any competing with him even if he hadn't already won Sahil's heart and soul. I was just a regular-looking, medium-sized ex-mechanic, or a big shaggy wolf with blue eyes. I would never be anything special compared to him.
During one of the times he woke up during the night — Sahil did not sleep very soundly, any more than I did — he turned to me, wrapped himself around me and held on tightly. "Thank you for being here," he whispered, pressing a silent kiss against my fur.
My heart hurt. We shared a secret, Sahil and I. We didn't talk about it. Even if I hadn't loved him with all my heart, I'd have stayed with him during these times, doing my best to make him feel safe.
When he was small, Sahil had been raped by an adult male relative and was warned not to tell anyone. From the ages of thirteen to almost sixteen, I'd been molested by a family friend my parents had trusted completely. My parents weren't wolves — I was adopted — and I had felt alternately special and afraid because of the attention I received.
I'd thought, at the time, that I loved my abuser. That I'd found my mate, my one true love, a little earlier than most people did. That it was normal to sometimes feel confused and uncomfortable. After all, every relationship had problems, and I just needed to try harder. It had been exciting, scary, confusing — and humiliating, when I realized later what had really been going on. I had been groomed, used, and discarded by a sexual predator. I had not trusted adult men since.
Except for Sahil, of course. Sahil was different.
He didn't tell many people. I was one of the few he'd shared that with, because I'd needed to know. He'd wanted me to believe that someday I could be happy and feel normal, and fall in love and trust again. It was a nice thought, and I was glad it was true for him. I would've been gladder if I could've been the lucky man, of course.
I stayed close to him all night, offering what wolfish comforts I could — warm fur, a solid, strong presence for protection — but in the morning, his eyes were still shadowed and dull, as if he hadn't gotten much rest. Sometimes he had bad dreams. Sahil was strong, and he'd done a lot of healing since his abuse, but sometimes the past was still there, breathing down his neck, making him remember things he didn't want to, shouldn't ever have to.
That he should still have to suffer sometimes because of evil someone else had done to him made me wish I could kill his abuser. I wouldn't be fast about it, either.
He kissed my muzzle softly, rustled my fur one more time, and then wandered out to the bathroom, shuffling like he was far older than his actual age. I wanted to follow, to stay close to him all day. I had to leave, though. We had work to do today, I couldn't lounge in his bed instead.
When we weren't on a mission, the four of us trained together, worked out, taught other shifters and non-shifters the ropes of being part of such a team, and generally made ourselves useful around Ralstead's estate.
