Omega Blues (Gay Romance)

Chapter Ten: Not Hunting

Bren

Watching Matt ride was satisfying for the part of me that enjoyed slapstick comedy. He'd never mastered trotting, probably because he treated it like a carnival ride. He burbled out a string of happy noises as he was bounced up and down by Fig's motion.

"How weird is this?" he said. "Horses following wolves instead of running away!"

"Pretty weird."

We slowed to a walk, and I took the chance to educate Matt. "See how Connor stands out?"

"Yeah. Lucky he can run fast, because he wouldn't be able to hide from anything!"

I laughed. "That's one of the ways you can tell a werewolf in wolf form from a true wolf. Subspecies of wolf evolve to blend into their landscape, but werewolves don't have to. Especially bitten werewolves, like Connor. He's got markings from the wolf who bit him—Will—but most of his coloration is his own and won't look similar to any other werewolves, even his pack."

"Will I look like that? When I'm a wolf?"

"Probably nothing alike." I hesitated. Now was a good time to mention to Matt that I didn't think he should be a werewolf, that he'd lose all the best parts of himself just to find out what kind of wolf he'd look like.

But Connor yelped ahead of us and darted off the track. Will looked back at us, making sure we were paying attention, then disappeared into the trees.

"They've found the wolf pack," I said. "Now we've made it all the way up here, we can keep riding up to the falls, if you'd like."

"Can't we go see the wolves?"

"We'll have to go on foot. The gap's too small for the horses, and it's too dangerous to ride off-track at more than a walk."

"So we'll walk! I've done it loads of times."

I'd almost forgotten that Matt's parents were hunters. As soon as we'd tethered the horses, Matt changed from his goofy horse-riding self and into an efficient hunter. His whole posture altered, his shoulders hunching and legs bending like he was ready to spring, his nose lifting like a dog following a scent.

For the first time I saw him completely serious, not to mention silent. He moved smooth and effortlessly as he dodged through the trees, over logs and under branches. He seemed to know exactly where we were going.

After we ducked through a natural tunnel I asked, "How do you know where to go?"

"Will's left a trail. See?" Matt cupped some broken twigs at hip height.

"Huh." I looked around, now spotting the broken twigs in the path behind us. "That's thoughtful of him."

"Well, he knows I hunt. So he knows I can follow a trail." We kept dodging uphill before he said, "That's what I think's happening. It could just be a clumsy deer."

We followed the broken-branch path to a clearing. There were hollows and crumpled patches of grass where large creatures had been lying. Matt stalked along the edge of the clearing, looking for signs of where the wolf pack had gone.

But it was me who found the pile of twigs. Laughing, I called Matt over.

"It's an arrow! They made us an arrow!"

The arrow pointed to a fresh trail of broken sticks. The earth grew damper as we continued, until we were walking on mud heavy with the prints of wolf paws.

Soon we reached a stream and, just beyond it, the wolves.

I heard their sounds before we saw them. The growls, the whines. I knew what it meant.