The next update will take a little longer since I'm on holiday for a few days and won't take my laptop with me. I'm one of those old fashioned people who can't type on a tablet. I need a real keyboard. Everything else drives me crazy.
So, next chapter will take until the middle of next week when I'm back. Sorry! In the meantime: some emotional h/c and some smut, which is why this story is rate M :) XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The pitter-patter of rain was a soft background noise. Sometimes the rain strengthened and the noise changed into one of a tiny waterfall rushing down the roof. The wind howled around them, but it had ceased to be a storm.

Chris had briefly checked the situation outside, unlocking both doors and surveying the dark and gloomy landscape. The torrential rain stopped him from going more than a step outside their shelter. The clouds hung thick and dark in the sky, looking threatening and like this could and would take at least another day to clear. Water rushed through the canyon, the small stream swollen into a raging force of nature, and even in the gloom he could see that the storm had taken its toll. They might not even make it back the way they had come. There was no path to follow left.

Ezra had tried to move into a position that let him see outside, craning his neck, but there was nothing there to see anyway.

Chris came back, cocking one eyebrow. "I think we'll be here a while longer."

"Oh joy."

He chuckled and scratched the fox's head, tugging playfully at one ear. It was strangely enjoyable to see Ezra in his shifted form. Even if the tugged ear twitched, the narrow features twisted in annoyance, and the wings flapped in a useless display of displeasure.

"It's not so bad," Larabee said and sat down next to his pack mate. "Gives us some more time."

Ezra looked up at him, the green eyes suddenly filled with realization and a hint of tension. Chris kept up running his fingers like a blunt comb through the longish neck fur. He scratched his nails over the skin underneath, drawing an unconsciously uttered purr.

"I like spending this time here with you, Ezra," he said quietly. "Getting to know you. More of you."

Because Standish couldn't run away. Sure, he could clam up and refuse to talk. But he wouldn't lie.

The crossbreed leaned into the massaging fingers, eyes closed, clearly losing himself in his shifter side. He hummed softly. There was a sudden gurgle and Chris had to laugh at the expression of embarrassment.

"Hungry?"

"I could eat," he replied.

Chris looked at the half-closed eyes, took in the bliss reflected on the fox's features, and he again tugged at one soft ear. Ezra opened his eyes and huffed.

"You keep doing that," he muttered. "Why?"

"Because."

Narrowed green eyes stared at him. "Not an answer."

"Well, it's mine."

Ezra's annoyance grew and Chris laughed, still massaging the soft ear.

"You rarely ever show your fox, Ezra. Seeing you as you are, it's… it's something I can't stop wanting to touch. Because now I can."

Chris' fingers slid down to the wings, still endlessly fascinated by them, and they fluttered under his ministrations. Ezra looked almost embarrassed when the purrs started once more.

::I hate you:: he complained.

Chris laughed again and stopped the ministrations. The crossbreed unconsciously leaned forward, trying to follow the retreating hand, then caught himself. The expression was one of embarrassment.

"Weren't you offering food just now?" Ezra asked shakily.

"Hm." He petted the wings one more time and finally rose. "I remember. What are you in the mood for?"

"Not much to choose from. Crunchy stuff of questionable origin. Dried mystery meat. Sticky paste."

Chris chuckled. "I'll see what I can whip up."

XxXxXx

The first time Ezra shifted his shape almost brought him down to his knees. Well, it actually did, had him gasp in pain, vertigo hitting his senses. Chris' arms went around him, holding him, giving him something to anchor himself on.

"Easy there. Just easy. You did good."

Lips moved against his ear and the warm breath had Ezra shiver. The power was still there, this incredibly strength, that well of energy within the Fenris that had drawn Ezra to Chris like a stupid little moth. He felt it curl around his very soul, giving him back his own strength, suffusing him with energy.

Alpha.

That's what an alpha was.

"Lay down. Let me see the wounds."

"I'm fine," he replied automatically.

Chris chuffed a little laugh. "Sure you are, Ezra. Sure you are."

There was no fighting Larabee on this. Not because he was currently physically stronger, but because of the pack leader asking. Not ordering; just asking.

So Ezra surrendered and lay back.

He suffered through the examination, felt strong fingers palpate the four long slashes that marred his skin. Two had opened slightly with the shift, but there was no blood, and it wasn't deep. Ezra barely twitched as he felt the caress, first analytical and distant, then a lot more personal.

"Closed skin, almost all knitted together," Chris murmured, stroking over the red marks. "No blood. Scars will stay, I guess."

Ezra's green eyes were clearer than ever, watching him, and finally he caught the hand running over the sensitive area.

"I don't mind scars," he replied softly.

"Have to treat them again."

Ezra sighed, knowing it would sting when the antiseptic touched the small tears. And it did sting, but he swallowed a curse as his muscles cramped at the pain, reminding him just how deep the injury had gone and how much damage had been done.

Chris leaned over him, then their lips met in a slow, deep kiss. "How's the pain?"

Ezra gave a breathy laugh. "You're asking that after such a kiss?"

"Have to make sure. So?"

"I'm fine."

"Translation: you're in pain and won't tell me."

"Chris…"

"The truth, Ez."

He closed his eyes for a long second. Chris waited, still perched over him.

"I'm good, Chris," the crossbreed finally said. "It hurts, but not as badly as before. Muscles pull. Still growing together."

Chris placed an affectionate kiss on his forehead. "Thank you," he said softly.

The truth. Absolute truth. Ezra always had to remind himself of his promise, that he had given his oath to this compelling man, that he had entrusted himself to him and the pack.

Calloused hands ran over the marks, soothing, far from arousing, and Ezra relaxed into the repetitive motion. The caresses were calming and teasing in one. Making him crazy and still turning him into a puddle of goo. He felt himself exhale, the tension draining slowly, and finally there was just the warmth, Chris' presence, the touch, and nothing else. Even the category five was forgotten. He drifted in and out, aware of the long-limbed, warm and naked man next to him, but even more aware of the openness between them.

Far more than the pack bond.

So much more.

XxXxXx

They talked about a lot. Chris spoke more than he was used to. About himself, about his life before Four Corners, about Sarah and Adam. He gave back the trust Ezra placed into him by answering all those intimate questions. He hadn't kept his past a secret, but it was hard to talk about the loss, the pain, the darkness that came afterwards.

And Ezra slowly but openly gave him little insights into his past. Not just regaling tales of cons and wild gambles.

Private things.

Personal.

Shocking, too.

And some had Chris want to maim and kill.

XxXxXx

"I was a business transaction."

Chris gazed at the other shifter, taking in the tension in the compact frame, the tight jaw. "Come again?"

"My mother… she got me as part of a business transaction. She always told me she had me, but never in a way that spoke of… a man and a woman sharing a moment. I didn't understand the truth until much later. She never conceived and gave birth to me," he said clinically. "She found what she needed: a child for her cons. She was ecstatic to find she had more than just that. She had a crossbreed."

"She adopted you?"

There was a short, sharp, very brittle laugh.

"She bought me. I'm a crossbreed, remember? You don't adopt something unnatural."

Chris bared his teeth in a very wolfish manner. Ezra ignored the frightening display and just continued.

"Quite apparently my birth parents weren't happy when they found out that their offspring is an aberration. I'm lucky they didn't just…" The pain came back tenfold. "They sold me off. Made money of what they didn't want. Maude was interested. She wanted something special, something to groom for her purpose."

Ezra knew his voice had dropped to a bland, very level tone, trying to hide the pain and the disappointment. He still felt it; after all those years of knowing his true origin.

Chris' body was so tense, radiating a suppressed anger that had the other man shiver, he was close to snapping. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his face a mask of fury.

"I don't remember anything of my so-called parents. Maude raised me to run her cons. Who would think that the poodle she had on her lap was a shifter? Who would suspect the little doggy when the thief had had wings and a beak? Or slithered away?"

Lord, he sounded bitter. But that had been his life. Even if someone had suspected Ezra of being a shifter, he had made sure that the form he used wasn't the one Maude had been seen with. And she had loved showing off with purebred, expensive and even rare dogs at her side. First the cute puppies, then the grown versions.

Ezra had hated it.

He had absolutely despised it. The collar, the petting, the food bowls on the floor.

It had been a con, but it had been humiliation, too.

Maude had made him go through various forms, choosing what he was supposed to be. She had made him shift and adjust until she was pleased with the results.

All that broke out of him, the pain and degradation, the way she had never been more than the person who had fed him because he was a tool; useful.

Chris' eyes burned yellow, had that otherworldly sheen, and he was radiating danger that would have sent grown men into hiding with a whimper and wet pants. Ezra had seen that very look before. Something inside of Larabee was close to breaking free, disbelief and anger fighting for dominance.

"I ran when I could. I couldn't do it anymore. Ended up here. Got a job." He gave a humorless laugh. "Anything was better than this… acting career. Even becoming the law that I had run from so often before."

Chris still said nothing, looking at the other man with an intensity that was almost frightening. His face was without emotions, but his eyes burned. Even without his habitual black clothing style he looked like an avenging angel. Both were dressed in the emergency clothes from the wardrobe. Bland, wide shirts and too big pants. Ezra's shirt hung open to give easier access to the healing cuts. Right now he was playing with the hem of it.

"Maude isn't your birth mother," Chris repeated tonelessly, like he was filing away that information with everything else he had been told.

"She… was the one who raised me and taught me my trade." He sounded strained.

Family was an alien concept to him. Neglect, abandonment, being used… yes. Family had been that for him for a very long time.

Larabee settled down next to him. "Not your birth mother," he repeated coldly. "Which excludes her from the pack." There was a constant glow in his eyes now. "She won't be so lucky next time she shows up in my Territory."

Ezra blinked, slightly dumbfound.

"She claimed familial bonds last time. She won't be so lucky the next."

"Chris…" There was a waver in his voice.

The yellow flared briefly. It was rather shocking to have such a powerful burst of wolf in human eyes. And the wolf was hunting and ready for a kill.

"She can't claim you from me," Larabee stated, a cold edge to his voice. "Ever."

"She wouldn't…"

"She did, Ezra. Last time. She tried to break you from the pack and she claimed family! I won't let her do it the next!"

A vicious snarl tore from Chris' lips, but he was fighting down the more violent response. His eyes held an unnatural shade of burned gold.

"Oh dear lord," the crossbreed murmured.

"Damn right!" was the angry reply. Chris stared at him with those intense, inhuman eyes. "You are my pack and I claim you! I would say it to her face as your birth mother and I would win, but she isn't! She has no power over you!"

No, Ezra thought faintly. Only you have.

It was a realization that caught him unawares, left him reeling and kind of breathless. For a single second he felt his brain stall, trying to reboot with so much information overwhelming him. Something jittered through him, something that was as unhealthy as it was enticing.

Chris had claimed him. He was of the Larabee pack, one of the Seven, belonging only to Chris. It was a claim that went deeper than mere association. It was something he had tried not to think about in the last two years of a regulator in the Four Corners Territory.

The alpha was like a solid rock in a turbulent sea. He radiated a calmness, a strength that Ezra found he needed.

The golden-yellow eyes flared, the intensity terrifying and beautiful in one. They were fixed on him with a brief intensity that seemed to scan him right down to his soul, stripping him bare.

Lethal but oh-so desirable.

Chris had settled over him, one hand running ever so gently over the four long scars, having Ezra shiver. He was watching him with sudden, intense and single-minded attention. The kiss was far from unexpected, Larabee surging forward and pushing home the fact of where Ezra's place was.

::With me. Only me::

It was a growl that shivered down Ezra's spine. The voice was deep, resonating inside his head, the timbre more gravelly than when Chris was human, and Ezra almost forgot to breathe. That voice and the physical contact were overpowering. It was touching something inside his very soul.

::You're mine, Ez! I won't let anyone take you! Ever!::

Ezra was by now flat on his back, feeling the rush of the words shoot through him, a whine escaping his throat. A throat that was attacked by Chris' blunt, human teeth.

"Oh gawd, Chris," he managed.

Searching fingers trailed over the marks, then over the straining crotch, squeezing. Ezra felt his breath stutter, still healing muscles clench, but he ignored the stabs of pain because the pleasure was far outranking that.

When Chris opened the pants and grabbed his straining shaft, Ezra groaned, eyes closed, head thrown back. The groan turned into something more primal when a hot, wet mouth descended over him.

It was over too quickly.

Helped along by his own desire, by Chris' impatience, his hard and fast pace that had Ezra reel from the possessive, claiming, but also so soft and gentle emotions. He came so hard, the pain in his side was almost enough to blank out the pleasure. But only almost.

Damn muscles were needed for even that!

He felt Chris' triumph over tearing such a powerful release out of him, then a hard shaft rubbed against his own still not completely flagging erection and he whimpered in realization.

The heavy rutting pace had him half-heartedly spurt a second time as Chris came with a guttural moan, face buried against Ezra's neck. Standish wrapped weak arms around the heaving shoulders, felt gusts of breaths dampen his skin.

::Mine:: Chris whispered, sounding raw.

::Chris…::

The eerie glow to his eyes faded. Emotions lay thick between them. ::Mate:: Larabee managed through the rawness.

Ezra swallowed, stunned. It had always been between them, never spoken about, never mentioned, even in passing, though the other five knew. Now Chris had said the word.

Mate.

Chris' mate. The pack leader's.

The kiss was gentle, soft, the alpha moving against him in a way that could go either way, though Ezra doubted he could get it up again. He wasn't up to his full strength. He felt weaker than ever before after a sexual encounter, and they had had wilder romps in the past.

::Yours:: Ezra simply repeated, threading his fingers into the dark blond strands.

There was no sound but the other man's soft breaths for a long time.

"Sorry," Larabee murmured after a moment. "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

"For giving me an orgasm?" Ezra teased, laughter in his voice.

He gave a breathy laugh. "No. The pain. You're injured."

"I'm fine." It got him a glare and Ezra brushed gentle fingers along one temple. "I am. I'm not bleeding, Chris."

Chris slid slightly off him, taking his weight off the still recovering man, but he curled into the uninjured side, seeking as much physical contact as he could. Ezra didn't mind. Not at all. His whole body seemed to thrum along each pint of contact, seeking Chris out in turn.

It hadn't even been this intense throughout their first time. Neither had been new to a male partner, but still they had tested the waters, how far they could go, and Chris had been far from the powerful, overwhelming, demanding alpha many would have seen him as.

That tenderness had nearly broken Ezra back then.

It had broken him now. Was always breaking him again and again.

One broad hand stroked over the newly formed scars, then finally rested over them like a protective shield.

He loved this man, Ezra mused, mind turning over the word in an almost lazy way. Had loved him for a while now.

A thumb brushed over a slightly bigger scar ridge and he dug his fingers into the unruly blond strands. Chris' eyes reflected nothing but peace, awareness, a kind of acceptance of everything Ezra P. Standish had ever been, was now and would ever be.

Yes, he loved him.

His greatest weakness and his sole strength.

Chris' lips curled into a gentle smile.

He knew.

Ezra leaned over him, kissing his hair. It was tender, loving… private. And incredibly intimate.

And he liked it. He wanted this. The casualness, the way they expressed themselves within the privacy of their rooms or Chris' cabin. Chris' caress was reassuring and warm. Simply there. It was a fact, like Chris Larabee was an unmovable fact in his life.

tbc...