LEN
A week passed, and Adyen never called me. I bumped into him in lectures, and since we've met each other he seemed to be as conscious of me as I was him. We had our core classes together, but he was often lost in a sea of students. I only ever got a proper look at him in our shared creative writing class of twenty-five students.
He had sat close to me. Shocking, since I had assumed he had been avoiding me. He hadn't talked to me, but I had noticed how his eyes would flicker to me from time to time. It had been hard to keep my cool since my wolf kept stirring at his every move. I was sure my face had been red then. He must have wondered what the fuck was wrong with me.
A sigh left my lips as I slouched in the restaurant seat. It was about eight in the evening on a Wednesday, and I was at a pizza joint downtown. It was a bit far from where I lived and the pizza wasn't amazing, but that was alright. I wasn't here for it. I was here for the wolves that ran the place.
He must think I'm fucking weird. My thoughts started to eat at me. I chewed on the nail on my thumb as I stressed about all my silly actions when I was close to Adyen. I remember being a mess in our creative writing class. The teacher had been going on about speculative fiction, but I couldn't remember anything she said because her voice had been drowned out by the sound my own blood pumping in my ears.
Adyen just had that effect on me, and it drove me nuts.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" I blinked, feeling someone squeeze my shoulder. Looking up I spotted Georgiou with my order in a red tray. The tall blond had his eyebrow raised and his lips twisted in a curious smile.
"Things," I mumbled, answering Georgiou before looking away from him. I heard the tray with my order being dropped. I looked up, taking my receipt from the table and stuffing it into my jacket as Georgiou yelled something to someone at the back. I had ordered a small pizza with a canned soda. Georgiou was the Alpha of one of the many rogue packs in the area. His folk stuck around the downtown parts, and they ran a pizzeria to make some money and have a packhouse of some sort. Many of the city wolves lived in their own apartments, but the need for community that ran through their blood made this faux pack arrange very common in urban areas.
When I first got to Toronto, I learned how werewolves managed to live in plain sight. Most packs ran bars and eateries, and I was no longer shocked to go out with human friends only to find out their favorite place was a werewolf den. Lots of werewolves also took manual labor jobs like construction and factory work because werewolves just had the strength and endurance for it. I knew Georgiou worked in construction part-time.
"Well, tell me about 'things.'" I heard Georgiou say as the sound of a chair being pulled made me look up again. I had been playing with the gravy sachet. Georgiou was now sitting across from me on the small round table. He had one of those warm smiles he put on when he wanted to have a heart to heart with someone. He was wearing a sleeveless top that showed his tattoo sleeves. He also had piercings by his eyebrows as the corner of his mouth. He was a far cry from what he looked like—he was wholesome, nurturing, and kind. Georgiou was a BC northern grey wolf that had moved to Toronto with his girlfriend five years back.
"I met my mate," I said in a low whisper, just loud enough for Georgiou to hear. I watched as his blue eyes went wide before narrowing at me.
"Who?" he asked, reaching out to grab my arm. One thing about living in the city as a wolf was that it was hard to keep track of all the people coming and leaving. I could tell Georgiou thought this was a new wolf.
"A classmate of mine. Don't worry, it's not some lone stray wolf," I muttered. Although most wolves in the city were 'rogues', not grouping up with other wolves in some way was strange.
"Are you worried?" I asked when Georgiou didn't say anything in reply. He nodded, before letting go of my hand. Although I'd reassured Georgiou that some random new wolf wasn't hanging around, he now looked confused.
"Then shouldn't I know them? I know all the wolves at your university," he said as he grabbed a slice of the pizza I had paid him for. Georgiou was a stress eater.
"It's complicated," I said, opening the can of soda on the tray. "He's recessive. Practically human," I muttered making Georgiou hum.
"Recessive wolves still look for packs though," he said. He would know. His girlfriend was a recessive wolf. They weren't uncommon in places like Toronto and BC where humans mixed with wolves a lot. Wolf-human kids just happened, and wolf parents usually told them their origins.
"I don't think he knows. He looked at me like I was crazy when I called out to him," I said, remembering how I had to chase Adyen through the main quad to have a word with him. "I don't think his wolf parent ever told him," I added, looking up to find Georgiou's light blue eyes fixated on my face.
Georgiou seemed to think about what I had told him before speaking up, "What are you going to do?"
His question floated about in my head a bit before I shrugged. "I don't know," I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "I gave him my number a week ago and told him to message if he was curious, but he hasn't texted me or anything," I said, rubbing the sides of the soda can with my fingers.
Georgiou didn't say anything in response, and I stayed quiet too, listening to the pop music blaring from the speakers as wolves from every breed walked through the restaurant door in their human form. A few minutes of silence passed before Georgiou reached out to ruffle my hair.
A smile broke across my lips as I made to playfully shove his hand away. I had cut my hair when I left Alberta. My long hair as well as how I groomed it has brought me a lot of attention when I started at the University of Toronto. Lots of humans immediately spotted that I was indigenous, and many werewolves could guess that I was a rural wolf. I wanted to mix in with the city folk and not stand out, so I got an undercut as per Georgiou's recommendation.
"You could always ask him on a date like a regular person," Georgiou said as I combed my hair with my fingers. "It wouldn't hurt, you can even bring him here," he added as I stared down at the wooden table. It was stained with everything from sauce to soda. Everything in the store was old—and I would guess even older than Georgiou who was twenty-five. Georgiou told me he has inherited the place from an old North Carolina wolf that has decided to leave Canada and go back home to the USA.
Borders weren't a big deal for werewolves. They just crossed them in wolf form and changed to their human state when they reached their destination. Yes, lots of wolves were undocumented and identification forgery was another thing city wolves got into for extra money. Getting caught wasn't an issue. Authorities couldn't arrest animals but being put in a dog pound or put down in wolf state was a thing werewolves in big cities worried about.
"But how do I even get close to him?" I asked after a while, watching Georgiou's expression change as a little frown took form on his face.
"Beats me." He shrugged, getting up from the chair. "Leigh is recessive, but she grew up with her mum and learned about it, so we didn't have those issues."
Yes, Georgiou's wife was a recessive wolf. She didn't have a wolf form, but she ran their pack with an iron fist. If anyone wanted to get Georgiou's protection they had to go through her. Leigh and Georgiou had made a promise—no crime or shady business in their pack, and as a result, a lot of their folk were rural wolves that migrated, older wolves, and college kids wanting to stay out of trouble like myself.
I shook my head, sighing. It was alright. I hadn't expected Georgiou to know how to interact with Len. Wolves relied on the mating bond and often got together just because of it. There wasn't really a lot of convincing and trail period to it. No 'dating'—unless of course who you were seeing wasn't your mate or the person was a human.
I tried not to think about it and went about picking at the Pizza I had ordered. It was cold now, but I didn't have a lot of money to be picky when things like this happened. It took a lot for my mother to agree to let me go to school down in Toronto in the first place. I wasn't going to blow my allowance and make her worry.
When I was done, I greeted the wolves at the pool table before heading out into the cold street. The place was lit up by store signs, doing the work of the broken streetlights that I've never seen working in my life. It was cold, and the streets were blaring with music. Occasionally, there was the sound of passing motorcycles being driven around. Yup, werewolf motorcycle gangs were a thing.
I stood at the pizzeria's doorstep for a while before pulling up the hood of my jacket. I made to walk out into the street, but I paused when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.
Who is it? I wondered, fishing it out before looking at the flashing screen. It was a number I didn't recognize, but I answered the call anyway.
"Hello?" A voice said from the other end.
My throat clogged up with the words I had to stop myself from barking. Mate. I shut my eyes, trying to control myself so I didn't act out.
"Hello, it's Adyen," he said when I didn't respond.
No way. I thought, pacing around the Pizzeria entrance. He called me.