Letting out a slow breath, Randall absently rubbed his hands together, staring out the window. "Victor," he started before simply shaking his head. "You know I can't."

Victor knew he had to be very delicate about this conversation. Unfortunately, he wasn't good at delicate. Nonetheless, he'd try, for Randall's sake. "Not going to college won't make Anthony get any better," he said, wincing as he said it. It was true, though, however indelicate it might be to point out that fact. "Denying yourself a future will not make Anthony improve, just as allowing yourself to go back to school won't somehow make him worse."

He could see Randall's jaw tightening, his profile difficult to read. "I know that," Randall finally admitted. "It just seems... wrong. It's a long drive from our house here, and that would be hours and hours I wouldn't be with him. I can't just go on like nothing is wrong, Victor."

"I know." Victor couldn't argue with that. He understood Randall wanted to spend every moment with Anthony he could, and to tell him otherwise would be nothing short of heartless. "I don't want to seem pushy, but if you all stayed at my place, things that like would no longer be an issue."

"A week is very different than an indefinite stay," Randall pointed out after several long moments of silence. "And as much as I would love to just say yes and move in, it's not that simple. Our cabin is the only place we've ever lived. We built it ourselves. Our parents lived and died on that land." Randall turned, studying Victor, obviously searching for the right words. "And what we have, what we've started, it means too much to me to ruin it by rushing. You say you want us there now, but you've not even had time to get sick of us. I'd rather go slow and have a lifetime to get to that point than to push it because of a few good dates."

In response, Victor reached over the seats and took Randall's hand. He wished it were a very simple matter of them just moving in, but everything Randall said was true. There were other factors in play here, ones that were big decisions.

However much he wanted to help Randall, he couldn't force that help on him. And he certainly couldn't get annoyed when Randall refused.

Instead, Victor nodded. "I understand." He gently squeezed Randall's hand. "I just want you to know that the offer is not on a time limit. If in five years you decide that's what you want, I will still gladly accept."

Randall pulled Victor's hand up and kissed his knuckles. "Do you think we'll still be together in five years, then?" he asked, tone light but something achingly sweet in his expression. Something so very hopeful.

"If we're not, I'll be very cranky," Victor replied.

"Well, then." Randall breathed out a quick laugh. "Anything to avoid that."

Victor's hand remained in Randall's for the remainder of the drive. Upon arriving back home, they had to enlist Edwin's help in bringing the books into the house-and Victor very carefully took responsibility for the older books himself. As soon as Edwin had dumped the textbooks onto the desk, he was gone again as quickly as if he'd just vanished into thin air.

He and Randall spent the rest of the day neck deep in research, only surfacing for cups of tea or water, or to stretch their legs. Over time, though, Victor started to notice that Randall's concentration was slipping. As time went by, he would, more and more, have to pause to put the book down to look out the window where Anthony and Edwin were working in the garden. They seemed jittery too, Edwin dropping his rake to chase a rabbit across the lawn, human form merging into wolf and then back again in shifts so quick they seemed almost unreal.

When Randall seemed completely incapable of focusing, Victor offered to cut their work day short-but as Randall got more restless with the proximity of the full moon, he also got more stubborn, so Victor was treated to a frown and a pa.s.sionate insistence that Randall could continue reading. And Randall certainly did seem to try.

An hour before it got dark, the wolves corralled themselves into the kitchen for dinner, which was a rather more growl-filled affair than usual. On one occasion, Randall really did growl seriously at Edwin for attempting to steal something off Victor's plate, a protective note to the rumble that just made Victor smile. Victor spent the rest of the dinner with Randall practically forcibly dividing him from Anthony and Edwin. He clearly didn't think Anthony and Edwin were threats as such; he just seemed to be feeling possessive.

When Anthony and Edwin abandoned the dinner table to go outside, Randall lingered. Victor glanced at him as he finished the rest of his meal-he knew Randall often held off on the change, simply because he didn't want to be ruled by his instincts.

"What's your plan for the night?" Victor asked. He cast a look at the table and silently despaired. Wolves were apparently rather messy when they got jittery.

"Well." Randall turned toward him, even the simple motion so much more graceful now, a predatory stalk in the way he walked across the room to Victor. "I was thinking about how hard I could f.u.c.k you over the back of the couch." A slow smile eased across Randall's lips. "Which is less a plan than an impulse, really."

There was very little in the world that could make Victor speechless for even a few seconds. That, apparently, was something that could. "Oh? Well, never let it be said that I would have you deny your impulses."

With a growl, Randall moved, grasping Victor by the hips and all but tossing him toward the couch. Victor caught himself and kept his balance, one hand braced on the back of it. He looked at Randall over his shoulder, twisting his lips into a half smirk. He would admit to looking forward to their first full moon, though the antic.i.p.ation of it had mostly slipped his mind in all the chaos of moving the Lewises in and having them stay. Even though he'd come to terms with David's memories and the echo of self-destructiveness, it didn't change the fact that Randall-when he was closer to his wolfish nature-was very attractive.

Randall stalked forward, stripping off clothes as he went. He carelessly tossed his sweater aside, kicking off his trousers, so much of his usual reticent nature now brushed aside in the brashness the moon seemed to give wolves. Randall confident under normal circ.u.mstances was one thing; this was a voracious need that Randall seemed unable to deny. For freedom, yes, for the ground under his feet, the wind at his back. But also for more carnal things-food, company, him. As Randall approached him, grasping Victor's shirt and easily ripping it open, bowing his head to suck biting kisses along his chest, Victor wondered if this was how all wolves treated their mates on such occasions. They should probably invest in soundproofing if that were the case.

Mates. It was a word that sounded so much more intimate to Victor than mere "husbands." If asked, he couldn't say why, only that the connotation of the word seemed more meaningful. He didn't know if he and Randall would ever get to that point, but he sincerely hoped they did.

Far from the hesitation of their first night, they fit together so much easier now, like they had been reaching out for each other their whole lives. Randall's fingers were deft on Victor's pants, slipping into his pockets to find the condom and the lube Victor had been carrying around in awareness of the full moon since they'd gotten home. He felt more than heard Randall laugh, teeth catching against Victor's throat.

"Someone's prepared," Randall murmured. He pushed Victor's shirt back over his shoulders, sending one of the half-torn-off b.u.t.tons flying, too anxious to get to as much skin as he could. He paused, taking a slow breath, as if realizing what he was doing. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, concern underneath the obvious want in his voice. "I've never... been like this with anyone on a moon. We're getting closer. I don't know what I'll be like."

"Don't you dare stop," Victor insisted. "And don't worry about it. You were perfectly considerate in the garage." Randall was already naked, which unfortunately meant that he didn't have the pleasure of attempting to do his own clothes ripping-it did mean that he had the benefit of not wasting time doing it, though.

They came together in a clash of a kiss. Randall let go at the permission, his eyes shining yellow again. His touch was hard but not rough, firmly grasping Victor's sides as they kissed. Victor's pants were shoved off, kicked aside carelessly, and Randall lifted him up to sit on the back edge of the couch, keeping Victor steady with an arm around his waist.

Randall slicked his fingers with lube, hand shaking a little with the force of his want, with the little m.u.f.fled growls he was burying against Victor's skin. Jerking Victor forward so he was all but laid out on the back of the couch, Randall eased one finger inside of Victor, letting out a groaned, "G.o.d, you feel so good." Victor breathed in sharply and tried to remind himself that moving too eagerly against Randall would result in falling off completely.

Leaning over him, Randall bit sharply at Victor's shoulder, sucking hard at the skin, and added another finger. His movements were quick, hard, thrusting into Victor with an urgency that was mirrored in the tenseness of Randall's shoulders, the frantic breaths against Victor's skin. When Randall's teeth closed on Victor's scar, it was with a rumbling growl, a possessive sound that shook Randall's whole body. "Mine," he muttered, biting harder, sucking away the sting, pulling back only to go in again, worrying at Victor's flushed skin as if he could claim the scar completely. "Mine."

Victor was only dimly aware that he was leaving clawed sc.r.a.pes over Randall's back with his fingernails, his own version, perhaps, of the bite. He shifted, hooking an arm more firmly around Randall's shoulders for better balance as Randall withdrew his hand. Randall pressed inside him, and their simultaneous groans vibrated through Victor's chest.

Randall didn't go for a gradual buildup, a slow and steady increase in pace. He simply wrapped his arm around Victor and thrust into him fully, pulling back almost completely before rocking back into Victor, hard and fast, groans and growls alike pulled from his throat. They moved together at a frantic pace, until Victor was sure that the couch had become barely involved at all, and surely Randall must be lifting most of his weight himself. He twisted his head to bite at Randall's throat, sinking his teeth deeper than he'd ever done before, pleasure jolting through him at the resulting growl Randall gave and the way he moved harder in reaction.

It was desperate and primal, no thought spared for comfort, only raw need. Victor knew both of them would be covered with sc.r.a.pes and bruises, and the thought only excited him further. Once upon a time he might have been already deciding to wear turtlenecks for the next week-now he liked the idea of proudly showing them off.

When he came, the force of it making him shake, he bit Randall's throat again, still moving with him as they both sought Randall's pleasure. Victor turned his head to catch Randall in a kiss that involved more teeth than usual, the clash leaving their lips bruised. "Mine," Randall was saying again, voice almost lost in rough moans. "Mine."

"Yours," Victor promised lowly, his words stuttering at the force of their movements.

That seemed to be what Randall was waiting for. With one last hard snap forward, buried as deeply in Victor as he could be, Randall came. He pressed his face into Victor's neck, he half howled in a guttural sound of release, and then, finally, he sagged down to the floor, taking Victor with him, both of them tangled up completely in each other.

Heaving breaths, they sprawled together, Victor still half on Randall's lap. He could see the darkening skin on Randall's neck from his bite, could feel the ache on his own from Randall's teeth. And Randall, eyes half shut, had his head tipped back, grinning at absolutely nothing. Or rather, at everything all at once.

"G.o.d, that was good," Randall murmured, running his hands up and down Victor's back absently. "You okay?"

"Absolutely," Victor replied, stretching his arms out from where they were still hooked around Randall's shoulders. He felt more satisfied than he could remember feeling in recent memory. The ache was perfect; everything that Randall had said was perfect. He leaned in and gently kissed one of the forming bruises on Randall's throat.

From outside there came the faint sound of a car door slamming shut and then a voice that Victor had not expected-Jed. He frowned, hearing Redford's voice a second later, then Anthony's.

"Apparently Jed and Redford have shown up to spend the full moon with you," he said, though he supposed Randall would have heard it much more clearly. Victor kissed the bruise again, reluctant to let Randall leave. He was warm and comfortable on Randall's lap. He didn't want to move.

"I smell them," Randall said, voice low, a rough tug to each of his words. He was busy sucking the bruises he'd left behind, laving the skin with his tongue. "Redford's excited to run." He seemed much less concerned with the prospect of moving very far from this spot, turning them over, Victor sprawled out on the floor, Randall hitching Victor's legs around his hips. "I'm excited for this."

Victor had to take a moment to contemplate exactly how lucky he was. He didn't take too long, though, because he was much more interested in grasping Randall's hips in encouragement. "That makes two of us, then."

Two rounds later-once on the floor, Randall pinning Victor's hands above his head and f.u.c.king him so hard that they'd wound up six feet away from where they'd started, and the second time with Victor pressed against the wall, Randall behind him, and probably a whole line of bruises down his back from Randall's eager bites-they finally stumbled out into the yard. Jed was sprawled out with Redford in the gra.s.s, an already shifted Edwin happily chasing a stick that Jed kept throwing for him. Randall was holding Victor's hand, jeans slung low on his hips, shirtless. It was pointless to get fully dressed, he'd explained, since he was just going to be taking them all off again.

And it nicely showed off his new marks, which Victor suspected might have had a bit more to do with the wardrobe choice. Evidently Randall got possessive on the full moons.

They apparently smelled very strongly of s.e.x, from the way Redford wrinkled his nose at their approach. He was obviously holding back from shifting too, his face having taken on a more wolfish expression while he sat with Jed.

"I thought it was polite to call before one shows up at someone's house," Victor greeted, with no real bite to his tone. Two months ago he would have been irritated to see Jed. Now he felt... well, he still didn't have any inclination to be his best friend. But the man felt like family, in a strange way.

"Princess." Jed nodded, sprawled across Redford's lap. Redford lifted a hand in a welcoming wave. Jed was sporting his own bites, reddened skin easily seen above the neck of his T-shirt. He grinned widely, starting to laugh. "Welcome to the club."

"Thank you," Victor said dryly, lowering himself to sit against one of the low stone walls that surrounded the gardens. It was at times like this he was thankful for the tall fences surrounding his property and the sheer size of the lawns. Even if someone did, somehow, get a glimpse through the fences, all they would see of the wolves in the low light was vaguely dog-like shapes.

As soon as Victor sat, Anthony appeared with an exasperated rumble directed at Randall and then Redford, who looked to Jed. "I'm going to head out," Redford said. "Is that okay?"

Jed ran his fingers along Redford's jaw, leaning in to kiss him. "Don't have to ask me," he said lowly. His hands went to lift the dog tags from Redford's neck and place them around his own. The same was done with the bracelet Redford wore, the blue scarab from Cairo. "I'm going to be out here for a while yet. Probably will bunk down in the car. If you want me, you know how to find me, okay?"

"You will not be sleeping in your car," Victor said, appalled at the idea. "If you're staying the night, you're staying in the house."

Jed looked vaguely surprised when he turned to look at Victor. "You sure?" Jed's gaze flicked to Randall and then to where Edwin was chasing circles around Anthony. "Already got a full house. We just needed a safe place for Red to run, and he wanted to be with some other wolves. You don't need to give me a bed too."

"I'm not asking you to move in. It's just for the night so you don't freeze in your car." Victor waved a hand back at the mansion. "Do you really think it'll be crowded in there?"

Jed gave the house an appraising look, absently running his fingers through Redford's hair. "I've seen bigger." He smirked, but he nodded his thanks too. Kissing Redford's shoulder, Jed asked him, "That okay? Me inside for the night?"

"That's fine," Redford rea.s.sured. "Just try not to break all of Victor's antiques when you get bored."

"No promises." They stood, hand in hand, Jed watching over Redford with a gruff kind of protectiveness.

Randall sat next to Victor, scooting closer, lips brushing against Victor's shoulder, his jaw. "Come out," he asked lowly. "Just for a little while. You can spend some of the moon with me."

Victor glanced down at the shoes he'd put on-they would hopefully be adequate enough for a bit of running around. He stood too, as Redford started shifting next to Jed. It still looked painful and slow, but not nearly as much as it once had been. "Maybe I'll have to get a bit fitter so I can keep up with you on full moons," Victor mused to Randall.

"I think you kept up with me just fine," Randall murmured, brushing a kiss across Victor's lips, smiling. "Or do I need to remind you?"

Laughing softly against Randall's lips, Victor swatted his shoulder. "Oh no, no reminders will be needed."

"Get a room, you two," Jed called. He'd knelt by Redford, rubbing his hands through his fur, smirking when Redford returned the favor by licking his cheek. "Or, better yet, don't. I don't need to see Victor looking any happier. I might get cavities."

Rolling his eyes, Randall dropped his pants, neatly folded them, and left them behind on the stone wall. His turn was graceful, the sweep of fur over skin, the shift of muscles and bone to a longer, lean lupine form. When he was on four paws instead of two legs, Randall shook his fur out and trotted back to Victor to nudge his head against Victor's leg.

Victor raked his fingers through the thick fur at Randall's nape. "Shall I run?" he asked, bemused at the prospect. He had no idea how far he'd be able to run, but he was certainly willing to try.

Barking quickly, Randall crouched, forelegs flat on the ground with his tail in a playful wag. Though Victor still wasn't an expert on wolf body language, he'd picked up a few things from his time in the pack. That was definitely an invitation to go play.

"I should invest in a Frisbee," Jed said, half to himself, watching as Redford loped off in the direction Edwin and Anthony had gone.

"I don't think a Frisbee would last very long, with a wolf catching it," Victor huffed. He tugged at Randall's fur again, inhaled a deep breath, and took off toward the trees at a run. Randall was at his heels, then racing ahead of him, a dappled blur against the ground, before rounding back toward him. Tail wagging furiously, Randall kept pace beside him, tongue lolling from one side of his mouth. They headed under the trees, Randall breaking away to dart after a squirrel and then coming back again, seemingly not bothered at all by Victor's slower pace.

They came to a clearing, the brook that fed Victor's small pond rushing over rocks, barely deep enough to even wade through. But Randall splashed in the water anyway, with a strange huffing sound that Victor took to mean a laugh. And then they were off again, Victor trying to keep up with Randall's seemingly endless energy.

An hour later, he reluctantly had to call it quits, and hugged Randall before making his way back to the mansion on wobbly legs. He heard Anthony howl, and then Randall did the same as they located each other. Randall took off once he'd made sure Victor was back on the lawn of the house. In the semidark he was barely more than a shadow. Victor realized how very, very slowly Randall must have been going to accommodate him, and yet, he'd never once appeared as though he was anything but thrilled with their tramp through the woods. He'd even found a branch with a few faded blooms, the last of the late summer blush of color, and brought it to Victor, clamped between his teeth.

Victor carried that branch with him as he got inside. He pa.s.sed by the kitchen, where Jed had his head stuck in the fridge. "I'm going to get some sleep," Victor said, taking his gla.s.ses off to wearily rub his eyes. "Do you need anything before I go? The rooms in the hallway to the left of here have made-up beds."

"Carb load" was Jed's response. He came out of the fridge with half a chicken and a bottle of beer. Victor honestly didn't remember purchasing beer, but Edwin had carted in several bags the other day. Perhaps he'd added to the shopping list a little. For some reason, Edwin and Anthony didn't appreciate wine. Either that, or Jed had some strange, magical ability to produce beer out of thin air simply by wishing it. "And protein. Oh, if you can get a nap in earlier in the day, preferably before one-ish? That helps. Pretty much once you hit afternoon, you're done for."

Victor stopped on the verge of a dry remark and instead watched Jed putter around the kitchen for a moment. "When I first met you, I had no idea that you would one day be giving me advice on how to deal with a supernatural species," he said, rather bemused at the situation.

Jed grunted. "Not telling you their history, or whatever fancy-pants stuff you study, professor. Just sayin', I nearly got killed from s.e.x the first few moons. You kind of think it's going to be all nighttime furry howling, but Red seems to start getting jittery in the afternoon, and apparently part of that is wanting to f.u.c.k my brains out and mark me up as much as he can. He says it's like he feels like he needs to claim me." Jed grinned as he found bread and b.u.t.ter, making himself a chicken sandwich. "Not that I'm complaining. Just thought I'd share the wisdom."

Victor grimaced. "Thank you for your specificity." He hardly needed to be told that now, anyway. He knew it quite well.

Jed arranged pickles on the bread. The grin had turned into a contemplative frown. "You, uh." He cleared his throat, shifting his weight a little from foot to foot. "You seem happy," Jed finally managed in a rough growl, shoulders ticked upward uncomfortably. "Especially since the last time I saw you with someone. Just... you know, just saying. You seem happier now than you were."

Victor suppressed a groan. There were few things more awkward in his life than Jed attempting to talk about such things, but he did appreciate it on some level. It was hard for Jed too, and the very fact that he was attempting the conversation meant a great deal.

"I am happy," he said simply. "I found a way to reconcile my insight of the future with the present. I'm still working on some issues regarding my own bloodline and the craving for knowledge without caring about the danger, but it's going well. Randall and I are dating, and we're determined to move at a normal pace." Victor paused, thinking back over his summary. "Is that enough information so that we can cease having this conversation?"

"G.o.d, yes," Jed managed in relief. "I hate that s.h.i.t." Turning, he gave Victor a short smirk. "Can I make fun of you for having nerd s.e.x, now?"

In response, Victor tugged down the collar of his shirt, showing Jed the ring of bitten bruises around his neck. "Does this look like the result of nerd s.e.x to you?"

Jed laughed at that, raising his beer to Victor in cheers. "Well done, princess."

There was a long, drawn-out howl, and both of them turned to the window, peering out over the rapidly darkening lawn. They searched the woods, Victor's heart pounding a bit louder, until they saw a streak of blond fur, Edwin darting out of the trees and then back in again. No immediate signs of danger.

They relaxed, and Victor sighed as he realized he wasn't feeling tired enough to sleep. He went to the fridge, absently listening to Jed mutter to himself about bells and emergency plans. Victor looked over the frankly ridiculous amounts of food in his fridge. Jed's voice had started to grow quieter. Victor tilted his head in Jed's direction, trying to listen better.

Everything was getting quieter.

Victor's heart gave a beat so hard it felt like it had the force to break ribs. "Jed," he managed, clutching the side of the fridge. He had no idea what was happening. He'd been looking at food, not at anybody's eyes. "Jed, I think I'm about to have a vision."

"What the-" He dimly heard the clatter of things falling, the distinctive crash of a plate breaking. But when Victor fell backward, Jed caught him, arms circling around him and easing him back toward the floor. "Talk to me, Victor. What the f.u.c.k is going on? You didn't see me. I know we didn't. I wouldn't do that to you. What is...."

His voice seemed to trail off, but Victor vaguely recognized it wasn't that Jed had stopped speaking, but rather his own hearing had shut off completely. He opened his mouth to try to reply, but no words came out.

His eyes burned, and then....

Nothing. A black expanse of absolutely nothing, a void that stretched on for an infinity. A nothingness that made Victor want to weep from the lack of warmth, light, and feeling.

Flame flickered at the corners of his vision-not around him, but seemingly in his eyes. They didn't hurt anymore. He blinked, and the flame spread over his eyelids while the void seemed to stretch and expand, flexing while somehow moving him.

There were things in the background that Victor couldn't see. Strings, much like the future threads he saw, that started from blackness and ended in blackness, too ma.s.sive for him to see the beginning and end. Whispers reached his ears, terrible howls from the darkness.

One of the voices started to become more audible. It was a murmur at first, vibrating around one of the threads. Then it rose in volume until it became the piercing shriek of a wind that whipped at Victor from all sides, and the only thing that was important was listening.

Victor felt his body move, his hand casting about for something. Jed's arms shifted, though Victor couldn't hear him speak.

The howling voice rose to a fevered pitch, repeating its words.

Victor had no pen and paper. Instead, he touched his fingers to the warmth he could feel coming from his eyes. Slowly, he shifted from Jed's grip, sightless gaze fixing on the kitchen floor.

He began to write with red, b.l.o.o.d.y smears over white kitchen tile.

And once he was done, the voice stopped, seemingly soothed by the physical recording of the words.

His job finished, Victor pitched forward to land next to his writing, unconsciousness rising up to greet him like a familiar friend.

Chapter 20.