Taking the Beta Male

She was tempted to laugh in his face. As it was, her voice sounded slightly strangled when she spoke. "Thanks, Calvin." Before she could help herself, she added nastily, "worrying about being assaulted by a beta was going to keep me up all night. Now I'll be able to sleep."

He frowned. But before he could voice his confusion, she gestured towards the door. He was smart enough to take the hint.

Half an hour later, washed and dried, she slipped back into the room. Showering had been an interesting challenge, as her various cuts had cracked and bled under the hot water, and she had to take care not to bump her arm in the tight confines of the shower, but she had managed.

She hung her towel from the doorknob, snapped off the light and crawled under the covers. For a long moment she stared blindly up at the darkness. What was she going to do? Homeless, penniless, thrown out of the pack; the only person she could depend on was a human beta who would be worse than useless in a fight. She curled into a fetal ball under the blankets, hissing in pain as the movement jarred her wrist. Through the window, which was cracked to allow in a bit of the spring breeze, her ears caught the distant howl of a wolf.

With that sound, she broke. She huddled in the borrowed bed as huge, wracking sobs tore through her body. Tears dripped down her face as she grieved for a dead lover and a lost home.

*****

"This isn't possible."

"What isn't?"

It was the next morning. After a hasty breakfast, Calvin had driven her to his clinic in his car. Once there, he had taken a quick set of x-rays of her lower arm. Now he sat in a chair in his office, scowling at the results on his computer as if they had personally insulted him.

"This," he said, tapping a button on his computer, "is what your arm looked like yesterday, before I operated." A ghostly picture in black and gray popped up on the screen. Even Laura could see the jigsaw pattern of breaks in the thick bones of her lower arm. "And this is what it looked like afterward." Another picture appeared. The screws Calvin had used to hold the bones together stood out brightly.

"And here is what it looks like this morning."

The picture was obviously different, the long bones of her fingers showing clearly, rather than the smaller joints of a wolf's paw. The twin bones of her forearm were more slender, clearly separated, rather than the almost fused mass of her wolf's body.

She looked back and forth. "I don't understand."

"Looking at this x-ray," Calvin said, sounding aggrieved, "I would think the injury happened a week ago. Maybe more." He pointed at the screen. "Here. You can already see where the bones are beginning to knit back together. That shouldn't be happening for days yet." He cast a shrewd look at her. "Unless there's more you're not telling me."

Unaccountably, she blushed, hot blood rising to color her skin. "We heal quick," she muttered, her voice sounding sullen in her own ears.

Calvin gave her a long look. "Well, it's lucky for you that you do," he said at last, rising and rummaging through a cupboard. "Here's a sling," he said, presenting her with a bundle of fabric. "You can put your arm in it. It'll be better than letting it dangle loose. Less stressful on the bones as well."

She tried to put it on, but was defeated by the loose mass of straps and the awkwardness of working with just one arm. She was fuming and ready to throw the blighted thing in the trash when Calvin plucked it away from her with gentle hands.

"Here," he said, "bow your head."

"To a beta?" she sniped, but did as he asked. With quick, efficient movements, he slid the strap over her head, raising her hair so it could settle comfortably on her shoulder. He then lifted her arm, setting in within the padded confines of the sling. As he did, his hand brushed against the swell of her left breast, and he jumped away quickly.

"Sorry," he muttered, his face flaming. "That was an accident. I didn't mean..." he trailed off awkwardly.

"If I thought you had," she said, loading her voice with menace, "I'd have already torn your belly wide open, and you'd be trying to keep your insides inside."

"You know, Laura," he said, completely unimpressed by her tone, "you'd be much easier to deal with if you didn't always give the impression that you were restraining yourself, with some difficulty, from killing me." He grinned at her as she bared her teeth in a snarl.

She felt her lips curve in an answering smile. He really is good-looking. The thought surprised her. I wonder what he's like in bed?

Her reverie was cut off by the cheerful jingle of a bell as the front door of the clinic opened. "Cal? You in here?"

"My nurse," he said softly to Laura. She nodded. "In here, Lisa," he called.

"Well," she said, bustling in and removing her jacket. "I see that the wolf didn't kill you, after all. What happened last night?"

He spread his hands, his face radiating innocence. "Would you believe I turned my back for a few minutes, and the next thing I knew she had disappeared?" His face fell in a very convincing imitation of sorrow. "God only knows what happened to the poor thing." He tipped Laura a wink when Lisa wasn't looking, and she hid a smile.

The older woman shook her head. "Well, I say you're lucky, you damned fool. What did you do, leave the front door wide open?"

"It was the back, actually," he replied, so earnestly Laura pinched her mouth shut to stave off an attack of the giggles. "I thought she might be happier if the place felt...more open."

"God save us," Lisa sighed. "The poor thing probably woke up and lit out for the hills." She patted his arm in a motherly fashion. "Don't fret on it. I know you meant it for the best, but there's just some things you can't fix." For the first time, her keen gaze fell on Laura. "I don't think we've met. Do you have an animal here?"

"Hardly," she said. She jerked her chin at Calvin. "He seems to think I'm some stray he's responsible for."

"Laura was roughed up outside of town last night," Calvin put in smoothly, not taking offense at her rudeness. "Couple of thugs took her clothes and money. I think it might have been some of those squatters up on Lupe Mountain."

"Those assholes." Lisa sighed in disgust. "Well, you're lucky you asked Cal here for help, young lady. He's never met a stranger, and sometimes he thinks he's going to fix the entire world all on his ownsome. Tell me," she said, taking in her array of castoffs, which were the same as the night before, only with a pair of tennis shoes rather than slippers. "Do you need any help? Money? Clothes?"

I need you fucking sheeple to leave me the fuck alone for ten minutes, she didn't say. Aloud, she said, "The only thing I could use right now is a phone. I lost my ATM card and my ID and everything else. I was...backpacking," she said, with sudden inspiration. "I didn't think this area would be dangerous."

"It's not," Lisa said hurriedly. "We don't have hardly any crime around here. It's a good town with good people." She scowled blackly in the direction of Lupe Mountain. "I have half a mind to go up there myself. Stupid pricks. Who do they think they are?"

"Anyway," Laura continued, hoping to distract the irate woman, "I need to arrange for some money. If you let me borrow your phone, I can get a new ATM card, and ID, and start putting my life back together."

"Can't you call your family, honey? Or friends?"

She clenched her fist until her knuckles cracked. If one more person asks me about my family... "I've kind of been on my own the last few years," she said. "I don't mind."

"Of course you can use borrow a phone," Calvin said, earning himself a grateful glance from Laura. "Here," he continued, fishing a cell out of his pocket and handing it to her. "Make yourself at home in the reception area until you're done."

*****

Technology, Laura thought a few hours later, is a wonderful thing.

Let other shifters sneer at what full-blooded humans accomplished. With the help of Calvin's cell phone, she had managed to arrange for an ATM card to be sent to her post office box in Larkspur, which she had maintained for her art business for the past few years. She had done the same thing for her credit cards. And on Calvin's lunch break, he had driven her to the local DMV. After getting a replacement driver's license, it was the work of moments to go the bank and withdraw some of her savings. While she was there, she closed out her checking account and opened a new one, just in case Tate was stupid enough to try to steal her money.

Walking out of the bank, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The specter of being forced to live off the charity of others had been gnawing at her all day. Now, with a small wad of bills in her pocket and access to much more, she felt immeasurably relieved.

For the rest of the afternoon, she stayed at the clinic, waiting for Calvin to finish his work. It was Friday, which, she was given to understand, meant that "Dr. Smith" stayed in town and saw the various animals people brought in for treatment.

Traffic was sporadic, with only a few dogs and cats arriving. She noticed how Calvin welcomed his clients by name, his voice calming one and all. Especially the young children, who often seemed more nervous than their pets. Laura tried to stay out of the way, but it was obvious that her presence was upsetting the animals. The dogs whined nervously, rolling their eyes at her and tucking their tails between their legs, clearly uneasy in the presence of a woman who looked like a human but smelled like a wolf.

The cats were different. One, a Maine Coon with a tabby coat, slipped out of its owner's arms and sauntered over to her, an inquiring look on its face.

~What are you doing here, wolf?~ It stropped up against her legs, purring loudly. The smug look on its face dared her to take offense.

~None of your business. Go away.~

Instead, it jumped up into her lap, still purring. ~What are you going to do, wolf? You're in my territory now.~

Her hands slipped around its neck, seeking out the fragile throat. It would be so easy to snap it.

~And what would you do then?~ The purring, if anything, intensified. ~Could you explain my dead body? Do you know, we were worshiped as gods, once? Cats never forget that, even if humans do. Who worships you, wolf? No one. You slink in the shadows, afraid of what you are.~

Calvin stepped into the room, his eyebrows rising as he saw Laura with an armful of cat. ~That one likes you. Can't you tell the way his smell changes when he looks at you? Tell me, wolf. Does he know what you are? Or will he run away screaming when you reveal yourself to him?~

~He already knows what I am,~ she replied, summoning all the dignity she could muster. ~And I'm not interested in him. I have been the lover of the alpha of the Lupe Mountain pack. Why would I be interested in a beta male?~

~An interesting question. Why, indeed?~ The cat rubbed its cheek against her face, leaving her spitting out fur, and jumped down to the floor. It was promptly picked up by its owner, a young girl of almost appalling cuteness. Her black hair curled riotously around her dark-skinned face as she looked up at Calvin anxiously.

"Hello, Consuela," he said cheerfully. "Is Pudding ready for her shots?"

"Yes," she said. Both of them looked at Laura curiously as she dissolved into helpless giggles.

~Pudding? Your name is Pudding?~

~Shut up.~

*****

After theclinic closed, Calvin took Laura shopping at her request. "I appreciate the clothes. I really do," she said, plucking at the flannel pants she was wearing. "But I think I need something that doesn't scream 'college dropout.' Or hobo."

He drove her to a thrift store, since she adamantly refused to go to some of the other, more expensive places in town, especially when he offered to pay. Thirty minutes later, she emerged with a pile of jeans, t-shirts, socks, and shoes. He decided he'd rather cut his own throat than to ask her about underwear.

"That was quick," he commented as they left.

She shrugged. "I've never been all that interested in clothes. As long as I'm covered and comfortable, that's what matters."

"You're different than most women," he said with a smile. "I've watched my mother dither over two identical sets of sandals for hours."

She threw the clothes into the cab of his truck. "I'm not most women."

"Yes," he said. "I've noticed that. What with the entire shifter thing. That kind of gets a guy's attention." He put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, some time later. He was grilling steaks on the patio behind his house, sipping a beer. Laura was sitting at one of the chairs at the wrought-iron table, an untouched bottle in front of her. She looked much more comfortable, dressed in faded jeans which seemed painted onto her slim legs, and a dark blue t-shirt which still managed to enhance the curves of her shapely body. Somehow she must have bought a bra, or her breasts were truly able to defy gravity, since they sat high and proud on her chest. She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly noticing him noticing, and he swallowed and looked away guiltily.

"I don't know," she sighed. She stared out at his back yard morosely, picking at the label of her bottle. "All I've known for the last seven years is the pack. Either I join a new one, which isn't as easy as it sounds, or I try to blend in with humans."

"You're welcome to stay with me as long as you need," he said, wishing the words didn't sound so much like he was propositioning her.

"Thanks," she said with a tight smile. "But I'm not used to taking charity. I pay my own way."

"It wasn't..." He floundered to a halt. "What do you do, anyway?" he asked, this seeming like a safer topic. "There can't be much money in wolfing."

"Wolfing?" She scowled at him, but he grinned back, unrepentant. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Maybe," he said, flipping over a steak, which hissed and dripped grease onto the hot coals. He brushed on some marinade, then sprinkled it with steak seasoning. "A little. You don't laugh enough."

"Wolves don't laugh."

"But humans do," he said gently. "If you're going to live with us, you're going to have to get used to us again."

"I lived with you people for fifteen years," she replied.

"Where was that?" he asked.

She ignored the question. "For your information," she said, drawing her dignity around her like a cloak, "I'm an artist."

"Really?" he asked, diverted. "What kind? Painting? Photography? Sculpture?"

"Wildlife," she replied. "I have my own website where I sell my work." She paused, then asked, her voice sounding surprisingly tentative in her ears, "would you like to see it?"

"Yeah," he answered. He rushed into the house and emerged with his laptop. Despite herself, she smiled at his enthusiasm. "Come on," he said, powering it on. "Show me."

Unaccountably nervous, she typed in the address to her website. "Lone Wolf Dancing? Cool name. Oh..." He trailed off. "Laura," he said after a long pause. "This is...gorgeous." He expanded a thumbnail of one of her pencil sketches. It showed a wolf against a backdrop of snow-clad birch trees. Despite the lack of color, the artwork had a dynamism and strength that took his breath away. And there were dozens more, each better than the last. Pencil and ink work, photography, watercolors and oils. Not just wolves. There were moose, and bison, and raptors, and scenes of pristine natural beauty, without even animals to spoil the clean lines of mountains and waterfalls and singing groves of trees.

When he looked at her, his expression was close to worshipful. "Unbelievable. I would cut off my left hand to have your sort of talent."

"Stop it," she said. To her embarrassment, her skin darkened in a blush. "I'm not that good."

"You are. And you should damn well know it." His voice was unaccountably fierce. "If you got a break, you could be big. Huge. Not enough people realize how beautiful nature is. If you could bring this to them-"

"If you're not careful," she said, to distract him from the subject, "your steaks are going to burn."

"Shit!" he said, leaping back to the grill. "How do you like yours, anyway?" he asked.

"Medium," she said absently, clicking through the site. To her gratification, she saw she had made several sales in the last few days. Luckily, she farmed out the actual work of making copies of her artwork and mailing them to a distributor in Florida, so the people who ordered the prints would still be getting them on time.

"Really?" he said, surprised. "I would have thought you'd want it bloody rare."

She sighed, massaging her temples with her fingers. Decades of this, she thought. That's what I have to look forward to. Decades of living with ignorant, stupid humans, who don't understand me any better than a rabbit understands an eagle. "No. I'm...we're...God!" she shouted, sick to death of blank-faced incomprehension. Just once, I am going to explain myself. Just once, someone might be able to get it. "I am not a wolf, Calvin. I am not a human. I am both. When I am a human, I like my steak cooked medium, and enjoy snorking down onion rings, and taking long hot showers, and reading good books, and sleeping late, and binge-watching South Park and Futurama, and, and making love on cold, cloudy afternoons." God, why did I mention that? "And when I am a wolf, I enjoy running through the forest, and eating rabbit raw, and feeling the north wind ruffle my fur, and swimming in a mountain lake, and the scent of pine trees on a summer day.

"Do you get it, beta? Do you understand what I am trying to say?"

Calvin cocked his head at her. His eyes, behind the wire-framed glasses, were surprisingly intent. "No. Maybe." His face was set in thought. "Just a corner, I think." He frowned. "You're not one person in two bodies. Or two personalities in two bodies. You're one person with two entirely different sets of...of ways of seeing the world, depending what form you're in."

"Yes." Laura sagged in relief. "That's not all of it. But it's a part."

"Good. Now," he said, his voice becoming, for the first time in their acquaintance, almost angry. "I'd like to know why you keep calling me 'beta.'"

She looked down. To her astonishment, she suddenly felt ashamed. And you should, her conscience nagged her. This man has given you nothing but kindness and understanding. And you insult him at every opportunity. "It's not important."

"Really? I'm not stupid, you know, Laura. I know what beta means. Why don't you just admit it?"

"Fine," she snarled, part of her hating herself, for what the last seven years had done to her. "You're a beta male, Calvin. Second-best. A weakling. A failure in natural selection. In my world, you'd be on the fringes, reduced to eating carrion to survive. You'd never have the chance to mate. Most likely, you'd be killed by one of the stronger males before you reached adulthood."

She sat back in her chair, waiting for the explosion of anger.

To her astonishment, he laughed. "So what? I don't live in the shifter world. I live in mine.

"And beta male? Really? Is that supposed to insult me? Christ, I'm happy not to be like those assholes you lived with, who would fight anything with a cock and screw anything without one. Shit, Laura, while your 'alpha male' forbears were out chasing after animals with pointy sticks and getting themselves killed, my beta male ancestors were back in the caves, comforting all the women who were sad and lonely because their mates had been trampled to death by buffalo or eaten by bears or had their intestines pulled out through their assholes by wolves. Or had their stupid-ass selves killed in a pointless fight with the members of the clan two caves to the north.