Of Fire and Fangs

I am fully aware that this concept is overdone, however, I wanted to write this and so I did. Enjoy, and if you don't, send me hate mail :) I have a another part I might upload at a later time, if there's interest. lmk

*

Part One

"You know, that's not how you do that, Benj." I hold back my irritated growl towards my best friend. Of course I knew that, not that the knowledge of my lack of understanding helped me any. The Elders had given all of our year's the task of starting the ceremonial braid. It was a shit tradition, in my opinion.

It was a canvas of braids that when hung up stood taller than the tops of our homes. Each plait represented a member of the pack, their addition signaling their presence and importance within the pack dynamics. As our year was coming to be our sixteenth, it was time for us to begin to think about what our role would become, and where we belonged within the community. I was becoming a man, and a wolf.

It also signified our approach into our mating years, but I tried not to think about that too much.

"By the Gods, Benj, you are hopeless," Oslo laughs. "Here, let me show you." I huff as his tanned hands take the colored ropes from my frazzled ones. His were ones of dexterity and strength, unlike my clumsy ones. His fingers were quick and sure as they unclumped the mess that mine had made, his handsome face bright with a slight smile.

"You know I'm terrible at this stuff," I mumble, watching him. Everyone else had finished theirs hours ago, but of course Oslo would stick around to help me. That's just the type of guy he was, not to mention that we had barely spent more than a night apart from each other since we were toddlers. I can't remember a time when we weren't best friends. He was my partner in crime, my better half. Not to mention, the top of our year. Real leadership potential, my mother had said.

"Yes, I'm aware, yet you still somehow managed to surprise me." Oslo meets my eyes with a wicked smile, making my chest do that odd thing again. It was strange, really. That pang was always there, making me cringe from its brutality. It had started out as a feeling, but had grown into something much stronger before I could even realize what was happening. A twinge when Oslo smiled at me, or whenever his skin brushed against mine during practice. It was a dull but painful ache, like something wasn't working in there properly. Maybe it wasn't, and that's why I am the way that I am. I wished it would stop. "Have you remembered the pattern?" I'd known Oslo my whole life. Every memory worth remembering had him in it. When had things changed? "Your start is fine, but you are crossing three with five instead of seven, which is why your middle looks like..."

"Shit? Yeah, that might be why," I deadpan. Oslo rolls his eyes and smirks. Ouch.

"Honestly, it's not that bad. I like the colors you picked," Oslo says, handing me back my untangled plait. "Now just go slow, I'll help you." I flinch slightly as his fingers brush mine, guiding them through the pattern. I gulp nervously. My chest aches. "What made you pick them?"

"They're colors from my memories," I begin, trying to keep the blush from my face. "Gold for that day we spent by the river with those lantana flowers," I say, smiling from the memory. "Burgundy for when we got into trouble with Elder Rosa and she made us paint the entire wall of the Hall that damn color." We both chuckle at the remembrance of our troublemaking. Our shenigans always got us into trouble. "Chocolate for," I pause, blushing. "Because I really like chocolate." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the reason for the color. More for the dark brown locks that sat in untamed curls on top of Oslo's head.

Oslo, only being in his fifteenth year like me, was the definition of masculine, and in the most striking way. Chocolate, untamable curls. Burgundy full lips. Caramel colored skin, wrapped tightly around blossoming muscles. A strong jaw, and piercing blue eyes that made everything tingle when they glanced my way. He was developing into a man, much faster than I was. I was still short and scrawny, with light freckles smattered all over my light golden skin. I did not possess the strength the other boys my year did, however, I made up for my weakness with speed and agility. My green eyes still held the innocence of childhood, while my best friend's were becoming wicked and knowledgeable with maturity.

"Yes, you are quite the chocolate fiend," Oslo laughs. His fingers caress the vivid blue strand, his eyes of the same color lifting to meet mine. "What about this one?"

"I-," I hesitate, trying to think of a story that I could relate to it. "Um-," I quickly look away from his face as my flush deepens. Shit! I couldn't lie. For every part of my life, Oslo has been there by my side. I couldn't make up a story without him knowing that it was made up. "I guess I just liked the color." I hide my face by looking down. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Oh really? It's not because of my beautiful eyes?" I look up sharply in surprise to see Oslo batting his eyelashes at me playfully. The ache spreads to my throat, creating a ball of pressure there that threatens to choke me. He laughs at his joke, waiting for me to join along. But I don't. I can't. I can only look down again to hide the seriousness of my face. "Benj, I was only kidding," Oslo says softly, immediately noticing my withdraw.

"I know, Oslo, I know." I sigh, avoiding his gaze as I stand. "I'll finish this another day. It's not like the ceremonies are tomorrow or anything." I leave my plait on the desk as I turn to leave. "Thanks for your help, but I'm just gonna head home. Momma probably needs help with Aisling and Reena, and I'm already late." I nearly dart for the exit to hide my embarrassment, using my single mother and my two younger sisters as an excuse for my retreat. I nearly make it to the door before his strong hands grip my arm.

"Benji, wait." He spins me back around to face him, confusion clear on his face. "What's going on?" We always walk home together. Poor Oslo, so unable to understand, despite his ever growing maturity.

"Don't worry about it. I'll see you tomorrow." I plead him with my eyes to let it go as I tug my arm from his grip, turning towards the door once more.

"Don't worry about it? Do you even know how stupid that sounds?" I hesitate with my hand on the door. His voice is close to sounding hurt. "Of course I'm gonna worry about it." He is significantly closer now, I can almost feel his heat on my back. "Just tell me what's wrong so I can fix it." The ache grows worse at his tone. So caring, so hopeful.

I turn to face him, wanting to reach out and smooth the frown from his face. "I don't think you can fix this." My voice is a whisper as he stops inches from me. I suddenly feel like crying. And punching something. "This is stupid," I mutter, refusing to look at him.

Those strong, sure fingers brush my jaw, coming to settle on my chin. Raising my head softly, I am consumed by his gaze. I hadn't seen this look before. It was dark, and sad. Oslo was never sad. The realization of his sadness hurt me too, but this was a sharp pain from deep inside that makes me bite my lip so that a whimper won't escape.

The soft grasp of my chin turns almost rough, those tanned fingers moving to firmly grasp my hair. My heart beat was deafening in my ears, my mouth opening in confusion, but no sound comes out. Oslo suddenly looked wild. It was not unlike the look he got when we practiced our hunting maneuvers, except that he almost looked like he was in pain. I didn't realize that I was moving until my back hit the door. We were both panting, close enough to feel each other's breath.

Oslo's wild eyes dart to somewhere below my nose. The pain is exceptional at this point. I feel like I can't breathe, like there isn't enough air in the world to save me. I watch Oslo's burgundy lips as he huffs roughly, an animal ready for attack. Those lips holding the air I seek.

Our lips brush together delicately. As soft as he is, his warmth makes our meeting almost brutal. I gasp as his mouth moves against mine more firmly, my hands clenching into his shirt to keep me from sliding to the floor. We have no idea what we are doing, yet somehow we know exactly what we are doing. Primal instinct, a script as old as time guiding our movements in slow, unsure movements.

His tongue tasting my lips, my mouth opening to suck on it. There was no thought. It was nutrients that I didn't know I was starving for. Suddenly the pain was no longer an ache, but a hunger. A delicious, hot need for something that only Oslo could give me. This was everything.

We didn't hear the footsteps approaching, not until there was a hand on the doorknob opening it up against us. Our mouths disconnect as I am shoved into Oslo by the opening door, his grasp on me the only thing keeping me from falling.

"Oh, my apologies! There you two are." The voice of Elder Yasmine entering the room snaps me from the haze quickly. Oslo was already disentangled from my body and standing away from me, looking to be just as flushed as I felt. "Finishing up your plaits I see. You boys are growing up," she says fondly, looking at both of us with pride. My stomach turns. She had no idea what we were just doing. "I can't believe that you're both almost grown up! It seems like only yesterday you were running around, causing trouble like kids do. Now you are almost men!" She smiles broadly at both of us before walking over to the tapestry of our pack.

"Oh, these sure are lovely," the Elder says while admiring the new additions. "This makes it all real. Soon you'll be joining the pack, finding your mates, starting your own families." I smile nervously, looking over at Oslo, who had moved closer to the door. He looked sick. "Then your own children will be adding their own plaits. A truly lovely tradition, don't you boys think?"

The door slams shut as Oslo leaves in a blur. My panic rises. It was considered a disobedience to leave the presence of an Elder without being dismissed, and Oslo was never outright disrespectful to anyone. Ever. He had to be freaking out. So was I, but we could get into serious trouble if I wasn't careful.

"I'm sorry, Elder Yasmine, Oslo hasn't been feeling well," I rush out. "May I be dismissed to go and make sure that he's okay?" I am shaking as I plead with her.

"Yes, Benji, go and make sure your friend is alright." She looks startled but lets me go, sending me sprinting through the door.

Oslo is nowhere in sight. I check all over the village, but there is no sight of him. Getting desperate, I knock on the door to his family's home. It is a place of many memories, a home where I was always welcomed. Now, as the wooden door creaks open, the light coming from within seems dim and foreboding, warning me to retreat.

"Hello Benji, how are you?" Oslo's mother asks sweetly, her tone not her usual jovial melody. Her blue eyes so similar to her son's cause the pain inside of me to deepen. I need to fix this. "If you are here to see Oslo, I'm afraid he is quite sick and must rest. I'm sure he will be feeling better tomorrow, though."

Something inside of me cracks. "That's okay. Can you just tell him that I'm sorry?" I turn away from her and leave just before the tears begin to prickle my eyes, unable to look into her eyes and see the disgust that might shine there.

What is happening? How had we gotten to this point? I'm not even sure if there was an answer to that.

The next morning I wait for Oslo outside of his home to walk to class, only leaving when I am become far past late. I walk to class alone, drowning in the feeling that accompanied being apart from Oslo. I barely hear the lesson, or the other kids surrounding me, too busy replaying the confusion of the day before. I do hear, however, when an Elder interrupts our class, whispering to our counselor words that forever changed my life.

"Oslo will no longer be training with our pack, he will be joining the Teton pack to continue his learning..."

He was gone. Transferred to another pack. To another pack hundreds of miles away. Without an explanation. Without a goodbye. The hollowness that fell upon me made me crave the pain that was there before it.

I wanted to hate him, but I was too numb.

Part Two

"What are we doing here, Benji?"

I blink my eyes in confusion. Razel was sitting in her usual spot outside of the kitchen. I passed by her most days after my meetings in the pack house. I ignored her at first, like I did most others. Not that I did so on purpose. It was just how I was, not really focused on the aesthetic of the pack and its people. It wasn't until my mother had sat me down and threatened my supposed bachelor status that I had forced myself to notice her. More and more of my year were becoming settled within their roles within the pack, finding mates, and having pups. It was startling to realize that I hadn't accomplished any of those things. Not that I hadn't been offered a Beta position, or had gotten my fair share of 'looks' from the women in the pack. None of it had felt quite right. But like my mother had said, I couldn't stay stalled forever.

"I'm not sure if I understand what you mean." I understood what she meant, but I wasn't ready to admit it out loud, or at all, really. Razel was an easy choice. She was nice enough, attractive enough, unmated, and never pushed for more. Until now, that is. We had been casually flirting, but not quite courting, for the past month. Finding a mate should have only taken a few weeks at most, but actually making the commitment seemed like an impossible task. I hadn't even gotten up to holding her hand, making the thought of going through with actually mating her seem terrifying. If she could just give me more time, perhaps I could work up to the task.

"Come on, you know exactly what I mean," Razel pushes back at my avoidance, taking me by surprise yet again. "We owe it to ourselves to be honest here." I begin to grow nervous as she stands and meets my gaze, something she hasn't done before. Few dared to meet my gaze, a sign of my mental, and now physical strength. I refuse to relay how nervous I am, putting on a stern face. I was never known for my ability to express my emotions. "I am ready to be mated. I mean, we are almost on our twenty-third year, and you've been offered a Beta position, which is huge. Almost everyone is mated now... and it feels like the right time." Well that makes one of us. Her small hands grasp mine, making me grimace. Her skin is clammy and cold, like a wet leave when it smacks you upside the head on a windy day. "I just need to know if you want this too."

Fuck. There was no way out of this one. Her plain eyes drill into me as I open my mouth, trying to come up with the words. How can I put this off? What do I say? Suddenly nauseous, I pry my hands from hers to run them through my hair, avoiding her expectant look. Seconds that feel like minutes pass of my stuttering, unable to form a single coherent word.

"You being unable to answer the question is all the answer I need." Razel's sorrowful voice makes me finally look at her, her once hopeful look now demolished into a broken sadness. Tears begin to drip sullenly down her pale face. Not making a sound, she turns away and begins to walk back to the kitchen on wobbly legs.

"Sorry," I call out to her, frowning, thinking that I had to say something after all of that. This isn't how I thought my afternoon would go.

"That was some stone cold shit right there." Beta Silas throws a meaty arm over my shoulders, dragging me along to walk with him with an easy tug. "You sure are a heartbreaker. First, telling Alpha Creed that you'd think about accepting the Beta position instead of jumping on that like a normal wolf, and now breaking up with one of the last unmated girls from your year? With a half-assed sorry? Heartless," the older man laughs as he ruffles my hair, which I find mildly annoying. He was joking, but I began to wonder if maybe he was right.

"We weren't even together. We were just... flirting casually, I guess." I didn't really feel badly about turning away Razel. In fact, I feel rather relieved. I'd prefer more time to myself being having to spend the rest of my life with some woman who decides to settle on me. "I'm not even ready to settle down yet, anyway."

"Listen, don't worry about it, buddy. You'll find your other half." Silas gives me one hell of a slap on the shoulder as he releases me from the weight of his muscled arm. I can only roll my eyes at his teasing, not finding it amusing. "But seriously, think about joining me and the Betas? We'd love to have you. Think about it. Seriously. I'm off. Gotta go play welcoming committee for this new pack that wants to ally with us."

"What pack?" I question, honestly curious.

"Join the Beta's and you'd know!" Silas calls out to me with a bellowing laugh as he makes his way to the pack house. I smile as he goes. I thoroughly enjoyed Silas's company, despite him being a pain in my ass. He was the main reason that I even contemplated becoming a Beta in the first place. He had made the second in command position seem glorious and fulfilling, a promising prospect for my bland, dull life. I was hoping to be offered the position, but then when the Alpha had offered it, I felt like I couldn't accept it. My mouth refused to let me do so. Again, it didn't feel right.

Continuing to walk past the pack house, I made my way past the many homes dotting the countryside. Past the last home on the narrow path sat the large hall that held so many memories. It was where we had learned our studies, practiced our skills, and were educated on how to be successful pack members. It was also the place where I had last seen my best friend all those years ago, but I thinking about that now was more than I could bare for the day. It was easier to pretend like it never happened. Like we hadn't spent every day of our lives side by side. Like I had never hoped that our friendship could be more.

Walking inside, I am greeted by Elder Yasmine. The clueless elder had become a sort of friend, propositioning me with tasks that helped me to unstick myself from the ruts within my life whenever I was about to give up. When I had the spare time, I liked coming down to help the elder with the young ones with their studies and crafts. It passed the time, reminding me of when my sisters had relied on my help while helping me to forget my troubles, at least for a little while. I would have called it therapy, if I had allowed the term within my vocabulary.

The sun is almost on the horizon by the time the last child leaves. Uzma, another pack member that enjoy the task of helping out, and I work on organizing the last of the supplies as Elder Yasmine hangs the last creation up to dry. The children had been tasked with making usable tools for the community, as basic and crude as they were. I had to admit, it was quite interesting what they had came up with. There were pots and vases, but also more intricate things like gardening tools, and even weaponry. It was impressive, to say the least.

Uzma and I are in the middle of discussing the children's projects when there's a knock on the door. Neither of us answer, as the knock itself was an odd occurrence for the publicly used hall.

"Yes, come in!" Elder Yasmine calls out, looking just as perplexed as we were.

My hair stands on end as the door knob turns, an icy shiver working its way up through my spine. The thing on the other side of the door was that of my worst nightmare, and my favorite dream. Finally, the door opens and time slows as three men walk in. Two of the men I do not recognize, but my attention is captivated by the third.