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A smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s obviously put on, likely to make you more comfortable. It has the opposite effect. You smile back awkwardly and do your best to ignore it as you browse the wooden creations at his tent. His arms are clasped behind his back, his black tank top showing off muscular arms along with the occasional scar. He’s definitely the kind of guy you don’t mess with, which makes his hovering even more off putting. He leans over the table like he’s trying to get in your space, yet he hasn’t said a word.
His eyes continue to follow your movements as you look over his wares. You tug on the sleeves of your knitted sweater in an effort to distract yourself. The table is littered mostly with small items, while the larger pieces stand on their own. Some pieces are simplistic: smooth and polished wood being the main selling point of the item. Chairs, small tables, little boxes.
You shift your tote bag from one shoulder to the other. The weight of what you’ve already bought starts to make your arm ache. Colorful yarn, locally sourced honey, and jars of goatmilk lotion don’t leave much room for more purchases. But you’ve always been a sucker for craft fairs, and you really need a new end table for that potted plant you’re trying to keep alive.
“Oh,” you breathe, a soft sound. The stranger’s piercing amber gaze completely forgotten. A large box made of polished, dark wood with a night sky motif has captured your attention. Swirls of dark blue mix together with a vibrant, lighter blue behind a forest of silver trees. If you look closely, there’s even some dark purple mixed in there. Flecks of silver paint dot the sky to create varying sizes of stars, concentrating in a milky way across the top third of the scene. You pick up the box, though it’s a bit heavy. The lid itself is gorgeous enough, but there’s intricate carvings along each side of it. Wolves running along trees, grassy fields alongside a river. The amount of detail and liveliness of the scene carved into wood astonishes you. A relief technique like this (you think that’s what it’s called) must require incredibly precise tools to get some of those finer lines. It’s a decent size, large enough that you could fit some of your yarn in it.
“This is beautiful,” you say, more as a statement of fact than a compliment to the craftsman.
“Thank you.” His voice startles you, enough that you jump and almost drop the box. His hands suddenly grip the box from the bottom as you tighten your hold on it. You didn’t see him move.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you mutter.
“It’s all right,” he says. His smile reaches his eyes this time.
But as he speaks you finally notice.
Fangs.
“Oh,” you say again. Surprised this time, as if you’ve made a mistake.
“Sorry, did I startle you?” The man frowns.
“Oh no,” you say as you set the box down. “Sorry I just—I wasn’t really paying attention so I didn’t notice.” You instinctively point to your mouth.
“Ah, the teeth,” he nods. “Don’t worry. I’m friendly with humans. Wouldn’t be sellin’ to ‘em if I weren’t.”
You smile. He’s awkward and a bit intimidating, but it’s sweet how much he’s trying to make you feel comfortable.
“Yeah, that makes sense. I didn’t know wolves were so good at wood carving.”
“Well, not all of us are. Everything here’s made by me. The others are too lazy to help out,” he huffs.
“Wait, you made everything here? All by yourself?” You glance towards the back of the tent. There’s more furniture, intricate figures carved out of wood, and even a few simplistic pots.
“I did.” He sounds a bit surprised that you’re so impressed. “There’s another box like this back there, if you want to see it. This was my first time working with epoxy resin. I wasn’t sure it would turn out well, so I’m glad you like it.”
Your cheeks heat a bit at the comment. It’s innocent enough, but it feels oddly intimate. Not something you’d say to a customer, let alone a stranger.
“It’s absolutely gorgeous. How much is it?” You ask, trying not to sound affected by his comment. Now that you’re actually looking at him, you notice that he’s actually pretty handsome. Long, messy blond hair is tied back in a surprisingly intricate braid, but some strands hang out at the sides to frame his face.
“I think about fifty dollerns,” he says, not so discreetly glancing at the little square paper with a price scribbled on it that sits next to the box on the table.
“Dollars?” You correct.
“Yes, that.”
You giggle a bit. His smile widens at the sound.
You’re relieved now that the tension’s gone. You’re not watching him as closely as you should be, so you don’t notice how his pupils dilate or his breath quickens just a hair.
“Here, let me show you the other one.” He motions towards the inside of the tent and guides you over to a box of a similar size. The wood is the same, with carvings on the side and all, but the lid is different.
“I wanted to try some different colors, and I liked the theme of a sky, so I went with…”
You tune him out at this point and rush over to the box. Pastel purples mix with corals and reds to form a stunning depiction of a sunset. The same pine trees line the bottom of the scene, but this time they’re painted in gold. Wispy clouds layer on top of each other as the sky stretches into a pale lavender at the top of the lid. It looks like the clouds were painted on separate layers of epoxy, since they shift a bit as you turn your head to look at the box from different angles.
“Oh my god,” you mumble as you absentmindedly run your fingers over the lid. This could fit on that new shelf next to the night themed box. You could store your darkly colored and blue yarns in the night box, and the pastels and brighter colors in this one.
“Goddamnit,” you grumble at the realization that you need them both.
“Is something wrong?” He’s standing much closer to you than you thought he was. Close enough that your elbow rubs against his torso as you jolt.
“Oh, shit, sorry. No, I… uh…”
He chuckles. “You’re pretty easy to scare, aren’t you?”
You frown. “Hey, it’s not my fault you keep sneaking up on me!” You turn your head away, embarrassed that he’s right. “A-anyway, I was just thinking it’s gonna suck to carry both of these back to my car.”
“Both?” He tilts his head as he asks, and you smile again. He seems more like a friendly dog now than the strange wolf-human that you assumed all werewolves are.
“Yeah,” you sigh. “These are both so beautiful, and there’s no way I can pick just one. Oh, do you take card?”
“Card…” he says, obviously stalling for time as he struggles to remember what it means. “Oh! Credit. Yes, I know what that is.” He sounds very proud of himself.
“That’s great! Do you know if you have a card reader?”
“Oh,” he looks away. It’s not every day that you get to see a werewolf embarrassed, so you try to sear this moment into your memory. “I believe so. One of my packmates knows how to work that. He should be back already.”
“I can grab some cash if you—”
“—No.” His tone is harsher than you were expecting. He relaxes his posture a bit and puts his hands up. “It’s no problem. Stay right here.”
You nod and go back to browsing as he jogs out of the tent. He must be really eager to make a sale if he’s literally running off to get his packmate. You can’t imagine why. His work is so well made and varied that it’s hard to imagine it wouldn’t sell well. You look around the tent and find a small end table. The thing you originally came for.
It’s a bit more simplistic than some of the other pieces, so it’s not exactly your style. The price tag reads ‘S 75’. Well, an “S” is close to a dollar sign, and at least they remembered to put it in front of the number.
“Hmmm…” You bend down to get a better look at it. Seventy-five plus the one hundred for the two boxes, plus the ungodly amount you’ve already spent today. Not to mention it’s another thing to drag back to the car. Maybe your potted plant will just have to be relegated to the floor for a bit longer.
“I left the card reader over here. It’s really not that hard. You just have to type in the numbers…” The voice from the entrance of the tent takes you by surprise.
You stand up and turn around to find another man along with the owner of the tent. They’re both standing near the entrance, blocking off the exit.
“Hi, there.” He waves. “You needed to check out with a credit card? I can help you over here.” The second man gestures towards a counter inside the tent. His hair is shorter, black mixed with streaks of white. He looks more casual, dressed in a T shirt and jeans with a grey jacket. His movements seem less stilted, but when he talks, you see those same fangs in his mouth.
“This is Blake, my beta. I’m Lance, by the way,” the blond says.
“Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t ask your name earlier.”
You introduce yourself and the three of you stand in silence for a minute. You feel like someone should say something, but you’re not sure what. Maybe this is part of werewolf culture.
You’re standing all the way in the back of the tent, with the two of them obscuring the way out. Your palms sweat. You know they’re not a threat, and just a few minutes ago you were having a perfectly pleasant conversation with Lance.
That doesn’t help the uneasy feeling in your gut.
Lance walks towards you.
Run. Your mind is screaming at you.
You back up, hitting the table behind you and nearly knocking over a pot. You stumble to grab it to make sure it doesn’t fall and end up on the floor in the process. Your legs give out.
Lance is next to you in an instant, crouched on the floor and holding your shoulders.
You’re panting. Muscles tense. It feels like you’ve run a marathon.
“Sorry, I—” You struggle to speak with how out of breath you are.
“—Shhh, it’s all right.” Lance pushes your head against his neck and strokes your hair.
Your eyes sting with unshed tears. There’s no reason for you to be this rattled.
“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” you say against Lance’s neck.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s instinct,” he says softly.
Your breathing has calmed now. Lance continues to run his fingers through your hair, even as you sit up. You’re beyond embarrassed, and don’t even want to face Blake. His first impression of you must be awful. A skittish human who nearly destroyed the items his packmate worked so hard on.
But it’s not disappointment or even anger you see in his eyes when you finally peek at him. He’s in the middle of the tent now, watching you and Lance with some emotion you can’t quite make out. His chest heaves slightly with each breath.
“Here, I’ll help you up,” Lance offers and hooks his hands under your arms without waiting for a response.
You’re incredibly ticklish, so you go stiff as he lifts you back onto your feet.
“Here’s your bag,” Blake says. You didn’t even realize you dropped it until now. “Do you want me to pack that box up for you?”
“Ah, yes please. Both of them.”
The two wolves glance at each other, their faces serious.
“Sorry, is that okay?” You’re worried you might have offended them somehow.
“That’s fine.” Lance smiles.
“I’ll go get the card reader.” Blake says and walks back to the front of the tent.
You start digging through your bag to grab your wallet.
“You’re not from here.” Lance says.
When you look up, he’s bending down towards you as he speaks. His face is too close, but you don’t say anything. You’ve already made enough faux pas tonight.
“I’m not,” you answer, not sure what else to say.
“Traveling?”
“Yes. I was visiting some family from out of state, and I’m on my way back. That reminds me, I should probably get going soon.” You already found your wallet, but you keep pretending to look for it regardless.
He frowns.
Blake comes back with the card reader, and you go through the motions of paying for your items.
Lance is silent. It’s quite the contrast to how talkative he was earlier.
“We can wrap these up for you and help you carry them to your car,” Blake says.
“Really? Thank you!”
“Which way are you driving?” Lance asks suddenly.
“Hm? Oh, I’m going towards the highway, but first I have to go through—”
“—Through the mountains?” He looks at you sternly.
“Yes,” you answer, not sure why he’s so interested in your travel plans.
“It’ll get dark soon. Those old roads are pretty unforgiving at night.”
“Crap, is it getting late already?” You check your phone and realize it’s much later than you thought. Your heart sinks. Driving through winding mountain roads at night is going to be nerve wracking.
“Stay with us,” Lance suggests.
“What?” You look up at him with wide eyes. You thought werewolves weren’t particularly fond of strangers, so this is the last thing you expected.
“My pack lives just two hours up the mountain. We’ve got a pretty nice place set up. Tons of empty rooms,” Lance continues.
You look to Blake, thinking he’d be as shocked as you are at the sudden invitation. But he’s not phased at all.
“Is that really okay?” You can’t deny that you’re curious. What do werewolves live like? Will you ever get a chance like this again?
“It’s not unheard of for humans to stay with wolves, if that’s what you’re wondering. We’ve got more than enough space and food. It’s actually a bit exciting to have a human over,” Blake says with a smile.
“Text Max,” Lance instructs the beta before taking your bag off your shoulder. You’re too stunned to say anything. “Blake will pack up your stuff.”
“Thank you,” you say to Blake but he’s already at the front of the tent grabbing tissue paper and wrapping up your boxes.
You’re about to follow him when Lance steps in front of you.
“Before we go, I’ll have to scent you. It’s a safety measure. Lets the rest of the pack know you’re a guest.”
“Scent?” You know scents are important to wolves, but you’re not sure what he means.
“Tilt your head to the side a bit, like this.” He demonstrates by leaning his head into his shoulder.
You follow his movements without really thinking about it. He grins. His hands grip your shoulders, and he pushes his face into your neck.
“Wait! I’m ticklish!” You yelp and push against his chest.
He growls, and you can feel the sound through your hands on his chest. Your muscles go stiff. It isn’t until he rubs his face against your neck that you break out in a fit of giggles.
“Stop! I’m—ahaha! I’m ticklish!”
Your pleas go unanswered. If anything, he pushes his face harder into your shoulder, hot puffs of his breath just make you more sensitive. You squeal and squirm in his grasp, wriggling in an attempt to get free. His arms wrap around your back, pinning you against his body. He snarls and huffs into your neck, which makes you even more sensitive.
“Stay still,” he speaks, his voice a deep rumble that barely even sounds human anymore.
You go stiff in his arms. Yet you can’t stop yourself from pressing your legs together.
He continues to rub against your neck, eliciting short little whines from you despite your best efforts to stay quiet. When he pulls away and releases you, your legs feel like jelly.
Blake is immediately at your side, wrapping his arms around your waist to catch your fall.
“You shouldn’t be uh… making prey sounds like that,” he whispers into your ear.
It sends goosebumps across your skin, still feeling sensitive from Lance’s cuddle assault on your neck.
“Excuse me?” You huff indignantly as you gain your footing. “I told you, I’m ticklish,” you emphasize and look Lance in the eyes.
“Look, there’s certain… sounds and behaviors that can trigger some instinctual behavior in us—” Blake tries to explain, but you’re not having it.
“—Can you really blame me for being ticklish? That’s not a choice. Do you… do you not know what that means?”
The blank looks on their faces give you the answer.
“Are you serious?”
“I can’t say I’ve heard the word before,” Lance says as he uncomfortably shifts his pants—
Oh. His pants look… much tighter than before.
“Here, I’ll show you.” You reach out to touch Blake’s neck since you’re not sure it’s a good idea to touch Lance right now, but Lance catches your wrist.
You freeze. Lance growls.
“It’s not polite to touch an Alpha’s Beta like that, especially since we just met,” Blake explains and puts his hands up in a placating gesture.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
Lance pulls your wrist towards him. “Show me.”
“Huh?” It takes you a second to realize what he means. His eyes look like they’re going to burn holes into your skull with how intensely he’s glaring, but you get the feeling disobeying him now will make him even scarier.
“Here, uh, just bend over a bit.” You can’t quite reach his neck with how much taller he is than you. But when he bends down and his face is inches from yours, you wonder if it would have been better to just stand up on your toes to reach his neck.
You hesitantly move your hand and gently drum your fingers along his neck. His skin is burning hot.
“S-see? Doesn’t it kinda tickle?” You continue your movements and he doesn’t move at all. “Well, I guess not. But it’s a very strong reaction for me, and it’s not something I can just stop from happening.”
“I see,” he says. He doesn’t stand back up.
You look down at the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes right now. Blake doesn’t say anything, either. You’re waiting for him to back up. You want him out of your space, but you don’t know how to say it. Part of you wonders if he would even listen.
You stand there in awkward silence for at least a minute, trying not to move a muscle. Finally, Lance stands up straight and steps back a bit. His posture softens and you look at him. He’s wearing a small smile.
“We’ll help you carry your stuff to your car. We still need to pack up shop here, but we’ll be heading out soon. Do you mind waiting for us?”
“Not at all,” you return his smile, glad to see he’s back to his friendly self.
“Everyone’s already clamoring to meet you,” Blake interjects.
“Really?”
“Yep. We don’t have humans over too often, so it’s a big event.” Blake seems very excited, and you can’t help but also look forward to meeting everyone. How do non city wolves live? Do they spend most of their time in their wolf form?
“Sounds like I’ll be a guest of honor.”
Lance puts his hand on your back and begins guiding you out of the tent. You’re not in a hurry, but the two of them sure seem to be. You have to ask them several times to slow down, since your shorter legs can’t keep up with their long strides.
As you walk the gravel path towards the parking lot, the sun begins to set. Light yellow rays filter through the trees and start to turn a vibrant orange.
“Hang on a sec, I wanna take a picture of the sunset.” You pull out your phone to grab a quick picture, though part of you is just looking for an excuse to catch your breath.
“The view is even better from up the mountain,” Blake says. “By the way, you should probably let your pack—er, roommates know that you won’t be home tonight. Once we get up the mountain cell phones don’t work that well.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I live by myself,” you say as you continue to snap some pictures.
There’s silence for a bit, which feels strange when they’ve been so chatty the whole walk.
“Do you like living by yourself?” Blake asks as he readjusts his grip on the paper bag that holds your boxes.
“I do!” You smile. “I actually really like having my own space, and having some quiet time to myself after work. When I was living at home, I had to worry about not making too much noise after nine since my family would go to bed, but now it doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t think I would like living alone,” Lance adds in a surprisingly somber tone.
“Yeah, it probably doesn’t make sense to wolves,” you say as you stuff your phone back into your bag. You’re not exactly sure of what to say to him. His tone sounds almost accusatory, and the serious look on his face doesn’t help.
“Don’t you get lonely?” Blake asks and takes a step closer to you.
“Not at all.” You force a wider smile in an attempt to reassure them, but you’re not sure if it works. “Just because I live alone doesn’t mean I’m alone all the time. I see my coworkers during the week, and most weekends I have plans with my friends. Sometimes I visit my parents, too.”
The rest of the walk is a bit awkward, since they’re rather quiet. They answer your questions with one or two words, or in Lance’s case, just a grunt at times. When you finally get to your car, their mood seems to lift. You open the trunk of your car and Blake gently places your items inside. You also toss your tote bag in there and your shoulder instantly thanks you.
“Good thing we’re leaving soon. It’ll get dark pretty quickly,” Blake says as he shuts the trunk of your car. “It’ll take us about thirty minutes to pack up our stuff. We’ll pull the truck up over here, and I can ride with you to give you directions. There’s not many road lights once you get up there, so you might have a hard time following our truck.”
“Thanks, Blake. I really hate driving in the dark, so that helps a lot.” You smile, less forced this time.
“You’ll wait for us here to pack up,” Lance states.
Your surprise must show on your face at how commanding that sounds, because Lance quickly adds, “Right?”
“Yeah, sounds good. I’ve been on my feet all day, so it’ll be nice to take a break.”
“Good. We’ll see you soon.” Lance walks up to you and you think he’s going in for a hug.
And he is, but he also buries his face in your neck and does that whole scenting thing again.
“Hng!” You bite your tongue, but it still tickles and you can’t help but react.
Blake approaches you next, and you reflexively cover the side of your neck with your hand.
“Don’t worry, I won’t scent you,” he chuckles.
His hug lingers a bit, and you smell pines and cedar. You feel cold as soon as he pulls away. “See you in a bit!” Blake waves and they walk back towards the craft fair.
You miss them almost as soon as they’re gone. The sound of their voices, their warm and reassuring touches. Small gestures here and there, but you didn’t realize how comforting it was. Maybe you’re crazy, already feeling attached to two strangers you just met. But you can’t deny it feels nice. That someone is so excited to show you their home, and that even their friends can’t wait to meet you.
You open your car door and slide into the driver’s seat, ready to relax a bit while you wait. As soon as you sit down, you feel it. You shift a bit in your seat and it becomes even more obvious. You don’t know when it happened. There were several moments that may have caused it, but you can’t deny it.
You’re wet.