Dancing Lights
Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader
Summary: During a mission on a frigid planet, you get lost in a blizzard and Wolffe becomes desperate to find you before you freeze to death. Once he does, heâs forced to reveal a secret part of himself in order to protect you from a territorial pack of wolves.
Pairing: Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader
Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon
Tags & Warnings: 18+, implied/referenced nudity with no descriptions, established relationship, hurt/comfort, light angst, suggestive themes, implied sexual content, violence, blood, injuries, reader doesnât know sheâs pregnant, protective!wolffe, snowed in, abandoned cabin, cuddling for warmth, Brother Bear/Balto type spiritual references, happy ending
Word Count: 12.7k
Author's Note: The terms "alpha" and "mate" are used in one part of the fic for a very specific purpose as a language marker (there are NO sexual, kink, or ABO implications). Thereâs also a distinctive speech pattern shift between Wolffe talking to the wolves and Wolffe talking to himself and the reader. This is intentional. The perspective shifts between the reader and Wolffe a lot, but the change is always separated by a paragraph break. As always, please enjoy đ
@clonexreaderbingo Square: Smile
Wolffe frantically searches for you. One minute youâre walking behind him and the next minute youâre gone. He trudges through the piling snow, calling out your name, barely a whisper over the raging winds and whipping snow, but receives no response for his efforts. The battalion lost long-range communications soon after the blizzard started and youâre not answering on comms, so his only hope is to find you before the drifting snow claims you. He canât lose you, not now.
Wolffe only dares to backtrack so far to look for you, or he might lose the battalion as its dark gray silhouettes slowly fade into the white tundra. Wolffe stares out into the nothingness and calls your name as loud as his voice will let him. Then he waits, hoping for a shred of your voice to make it back to him, but he hears nothing. Gritting his teeth, he turns on his heels and uses the backs of his men as wayfinders to trudge his way up to the front of the procession.
âGeneral,â Wolffe shouts over the storm.
âYes, commander?â Plo Koon asks as his snow covered parka blows wildly in the wind.
âWeâve lost one of the⊠men,â Wolffe says, pausing to consider whether he should name you as the lost soldier. He knows how Jedi feel about attachments, and heâs not in the mood for a lecture. âThey appear to be lost in the storm.â
âHave you attempted to make contact?â Plo Koon asks.
âYes, sir,â Wolffe answers. âMultiple times, sir, with no success.â
Plo Koon raises his hand to his face in thought. âThat is a predicament.â
âSir,â Wolffe begins in a serious tone, âwith your permission, I want to go after them.â
âThat would be ill-advised, commander,â Plo Koon answers. âThe storm is getting worse and we must advance to the rendezvous point before we become buried in it ourselves.â
âBut sir,â Wolffe argues. âWe canât afford to lose anymore men. Our numbers are dwindling as it is. We need to find them.â
Plo Koon crosses his arms and waits a moment to respond, reading Wolffe through the force like an open book. âAttachments are dangerous, commander. As lethal as this storm.â
Wolffe grimaces and shifts on his feet like a child getting caught in a lie. âI donât believe in leaving men behind, sir.â
Plo Koonâs facial features soften and he places a gloved hand on Wolffeâs shoulder. âNeither do I, but you are needed here. Perhaps we can send a scout.â
The general is both right and wrong. Having their commander walk away in the middle of a stressful situation will reduce the battalionâs morale significantly. They have been marching to their next rendezvous point for days, and the blizzard is only making it more difficult. However, there is no way in the stars above that a mere scout will be able to find you in this storm. The scout is more likely to get himself lost. But Wolffe? He can find you, without a shred of doubt.
âWith all due respect, sir,â Wolffe argues, clenching his fists together to hold his composure. âI am the most suited for this mission. You know this. I refuse to risk any more of my men dying in this storm and being buried unceremoniously under a pile of snow.â
Plo Koon considers Wolffeâs words and the conviction behind them, then sighs. âVery well.â
âThank you, sir,â Wolffe says, finally releasing the breath he was holding in.
âHowever,â Plo Koon continues. âWe cannot halt the convoy or render aid if you fail your mission. You will be on your own.â
âI understand,â Wolffe nods before turning to walk away.
âAnd Wolffe,â Plo Koon adds quickly. âCome back safely. Both of you.â
Wolffe doesnât answer, but the sentiment shared between the two is unmistakable. He will bring you both back safely, or itâs the last thing heâll do. Wolffe climbs up into the ATTE heâs been living in for the duration of this campaign and grabs his pack. He grabs everything he might need, including canteens, rations, medical supplies, an emergency blanket, and a spare set of blacks, as well as tossing out anything that he knows he wonât need. Traveling light is a must.
Before making his departure, Wolffe seeks out Sinker and temporarily puts him in charge of the battalion for the duration of his absence. Leaving the battalion in Sinkerâs hands is an easy decision for Wolffe to make. The sergeant has been by his side since the beginning of the war, and has shown considerable aptitude and courage under distress. Wolffe knows that he is up for the challenge and has faith in him to lead the men to the rendezvous point mostly unscathed.
With everything in order, Wolffe hops down from the ATTE, his boots sinking deeply into the fresh fallen snow beneath. The wind is ripping and visibility is minimal, but Wolffe steels himself and sets out in the opposite direction of the battalion. After a few yards, he looks back. The gray silhouettes of the men and machines are gone. Thereâs no turning back now. He faces forward, picking his feet up and over the snow in a painstakingly slow process, but at least heâs moving.
As he trudges through the blizzard, snow begins sticking to his armor and weighing him down. He stops every so often to brush himself off, but it quickly becomes a useless effort. He grumbles to himself that of all the planets you had to get lost on, why did it have to be this one? Heâs not angry, but he is scared; scared for you and for the little package you carry inside you unawares. Regardless of how he feels about the situation, he is determined to find you.
After a little while longer, he stops and stands still. The snow swirls around him, covering his visor and the gray markings on his armor. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, calling on the senses lying dormant within him to come to the surface and aid him in his search. No human or comm system can find you in this storm, but maybe he can. Maybe the wolf inside him can. A spirit of a bygone era that speaks to his soul at night and shows him images of dancing lights.
Wolffe removes his helmet, a dangerous move in this type of weather. The temperature alone could kill him with frostbite, but he needs to feel the air around him. The cold nips at the tips of his ears and wind blows through his short hair without caution, leaving little bits of frost at the tips. With his eyes still closed, he breathes deeper, calming every nerve in his body until he can find your presence. If we canât locate you like this, then heâll be forced to make a drastic move.
Suddenly, it clicks like a strike of lightning. Whether itâs a feeling, a sense, or an intuition, he knows where he needs to go. He shakes the snow off his head and replaces his helmet, bristling as the cold snow melts down the back of his neck. But, he doesnât have time to worry about his comfort at the moment. Every second he wastes thinking about himself is another second lost trying to find you. He turns and starts walking, letting his internal compass guide him to you.
As he continues forward, the storm lets up a little. He wonders if the change will be permanent or if itâs just a momentary lull. Again, he doesnât have time to think about the logistics when you could already be dead and frozen, buried under a pile of snow. He shakes his head at the intrusive thoughts, then notices a ridgeline of trees in the distance. His stomach flips and his breath quickens. He knows youâre in there. Youâre smart. Of course, youâd try to find shelter.
Wolffe moves as fast as he can through the piled snow towards the forest of trees. He senses that you are nearby. He stops at the edge of the wooded area and scans to the left and to the right, searching, listening, hoping, and praying that heâs not too late and that he can find you still alive. As heâs standing there, a shiver runs up his spine and he knows he needs to find you soon. If he can find you in this weather, so can they, and heâs not in the mood to deal with that.
He enters the tree line cautiously, then hears a sound in the distance that stills his heart. He doesnât have much time to find you. Breaking out into his best sprint through the deep snow, he pulls on the trees and branches for leverage, making his movements faster as he frantically searches for you. You're close. He can feel it. He can smell it. His heart is beating out of his chest at the sound. Theyâre coming, a lot of them, and he doesnât want to be here when they arrive.
Wolffe releases a heavy sigh of relief when he finally sees you, or rather, he sees your emergency shelter tied to a couple trees. You have the beacon on, but its light is barely visible against the white and gray landscape. The shelter is partially buried by the snow and Wolffe falls to his knees to dig you out. The wet snow seeps through his gloves, and the cold bites at his fingertips, but he doesnât care. He continues digging until he finds the opening of the shelter.
Once he finds the entrance, he digs a bit deeper to make a little path for him to snake his body down and get into the shelter to get you out. When the path is wide enough for his body, he gets on his stomach and shimmies his way to where the zipper is. He pulls it open just enough to peek inside and no more. Thatâs when he sees you, curled up into a protective ball, covered in an emergency blanket, with a small heat lamp in the middle of the shelter to keep you warm.
âCyare,â Wolffe calls gently as he opens the entrance wider and wiggles the upper half of his body into the tent. Thereâs barely enough room for him to crawl on his hands and knees.
You stir and make a small grunting noise.
Wolffe releases another sigh of relief, then rests his forehead against the cold canvas floor of the shelter. He thanks the stars you're still alive. Sadly, his brief moment of relief is quickly interrupted when he hears the sound in the distance again. Theyâre getting closer and heâs running out of time. He picks his head up and curses under his breath. He needs to get the both of you out of here now, or there will be trouble, and not the type he can easily deal with.
Wolffe stretches out his hand and tugs on your foot, trying to wake you from your sleep. âCyare,â he calls a little louder.
You startle awake. The light from the tent-opening blinds you for a moment and the cold air nips at your exposed face. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Wolffeâs familiar bucket staring at you. âWolffe?â
âItâs me,â he says.
âYou found me!â you exclaim with excitement.
Wolffe wiggles the rest of his body into the small tent and pulls you into his arms the best he can, gently pressing you against his armored chest. He removes his bucket and rests his forehead against yours. âI found you.â
The sweet reunion is cut short when Wolffe hears the sound again, but this time, itâs not so distant. He jumps into action, releasing you and putting his bucket back on. âPack up,â he orders. âWe have to go. Now.â
You're shocked by the sudden urgency, but you follow Wolffeâs lead and begin rolling up the blanket. âWhatâs the hurry? The stormââ
âTheyâre coming,â Wolffe interrupts while stuffing all of the loose items into your pack.
âWhoâs coming?â you ask in confusion. One minute youâre sleeping peacefully in your shelter as you wait out the storm and the next minute Wolffe is rushing you back out into the storm.
âWe donât have time for me to explain!â Wolffe snaps. He feels more afraid than he was before he found you.
Youâre slightly offended by his harsh tone, but if you know anything about Wolffe, itâs that he doesnât mess around, especially when it has to do with someoneâs safety. You decide not to push the issue and hasten your pace to get things wrapped up. The good thing about emergency shelters is that theyâre quick to assemble and even quicker to tear down. You both finish with the pack and you follow Wolffe outside of the shelter and break that down too.
Before you get in another word edgewise, Wolffe grabs your arm and pulls you along through the snow. His grip is tight and you struggle to keep up, feeling like your arm will rip out of its socket. âWolffe, stop!â you shout while pulling on his arm with your free hand. âLet go!â
Wolffe ignores your struggle, believing that youâll forgive him later for his roughness when youâre both safe. He doesnât have the time to coddle you or explain why you need to run away as fast as you can. Your yelling doesnât help his cause, but then again, they donât need to hear you in order to find you. Itâs already too late, Wolffe knows this, but he refuses to give up without at least trying to get you to safety. Even if he has to deal with it on his own, he needs you safe.
You continue to struggle against Wolffeâs grasp and fight him with each step as you demand an explanation from him. He doesnât give you one. He doesnât even turn around to look at you. He just keeps walking, not letting up on his brisk pace that has you panting in cold air that burns your lungs. Finally, in a last ditch effort, and to give your lungs and legs a break, you let your legs go slack and plop yourself down into the snow, jerking on Wolffeâs arm on the way down.
Wolffe stops and grunts in frustration. âWe donât have time for this!â
âWolffe!â you yell through a panting breath while trying to get him to listen to you. âI canât keep up. My legs. My lungs. It hurts.â
Wolffe lets go of your arm and paces in a circle as he thinks. âI need you to get up.â
âI told you, I canât!â you argue.Â
Wolffe kneels down on the snow in front of you and removes his bucket. He grabs both of your cheeks and forces you to look into his eyes. âI need you to get up. Now.â
His gloves feel cold on your skin and for a moment you see something flash across his eyes, something desperate that youâve never seen in him before. But before you get to respond, you hear it. The sound of howling in the distance. You watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side to peek around you and in an instant, you finally understand. How he heard them before you did, you may never know, but that sound is what Wolffe has been afraid of, the sound of wolves.
You find new strength in your fear and get to your feet, ready to start running again, but Wolffe doesnât move with you. You turn to see him still kneeling in the snow, staring out through the trees at nothing. Your confusion turns into worry which then turns into a deeper fear. You step behind him and place your hand on his shoulder for reassurance. He places his hand atop yours and stands to his feet. He knows something you donât, but you're too afraid to ask him what it is.
âItâs too late,â he says in a hushed tone.
âToo late?â you ask as your voice quivers. âToo late for what?â
Wolffe turns around and pulls you tight against him, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His cold plastoid armor digs into your clothing. He can hear the fear in your voice and it breaks his heart. This is exactly what he was afraid of, what he didnât want to happen. The scenario heâs played over and over in his mind since he started out on this mission, the one he so desperately wanted to avoid at all costs, is now inescapable.
Wolffe drags his lips up to your ear and whispers. âDo you trust me?â
You shiver as his hot breath ghosts against the cold shell of your ear. âAlways,â you answer.
Wolffe pulls away and plants two firm hands on both of your shoulders. âI need you to listen to me and do everything I say. Understand?â
You look into his eyes and nod your head. âI understand.â
âDonât move,â Wolffe orders. He shakes your shoulders, like heâs trying to ingrain it in your body. âDonât move a single inch, no matter what happens.â
You're confused by the instructions, but you trust that Wolffe knows what heâs doing, so you go along with it. âI wonât move. I promise.â
Wolffe nods his head and gives you a small half-smile. âGood girl.â
You watch him carefully, studying his body language, the way he worries his lip and shifts his weight from leg to leg. You canât help but notice the growing anxiety, so you bring your hand up to cup the side of his face to reassure him. You smooth your hand over his reddened cheek, your fabric glove catching on the rough bristles of the stubble growing in. Wolffe places his hand over yours and leans into the caress, then pulls it away from his face to kiss your palm.
âYou know I love you, right?â Wolffe whispers against your hand.
You smile. âI know.â
Wolffe relishes in the simple and soft moment heâs allowed to have with you. Heâs not sure what will happen, but he knows that at least in this moment, he has you. He found you, which is what he set out to do. Mission accomplished. But, the promise he made to the general before he left the battalion reverberates in his mind. He swore he would bring you both back safely, and thatâs what he still intends to do, no matter the cost.
An eerie silence washes over the area. Every sound of nature is muted by the snow and whatâs left in its wake is a hollow peace. However, that silence is pierced by howls and soft steps in the snow. Wolffe closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then turns to face the oncoming enemy. He keeps one hand on you for reassurance, and the other in front of him for his own defense, not that it will do him any good. His blasters wonât help him here either, not against a full pack.
The wolves come into view and surround you and Wolffe in a circle. Their fur coats are light gray and white, perfect camouflage for this place they call home. If it werenât for their golden eyes and black noses, you wouldnât even be able to see them. Your breath hitches in your throat at their menacing presence. The wolves are large. Larger than you ever imagined from the books youâve read, with the tips of their ears easily coming up to your hips. You swallow back your fear.
The pack circles around you and Wolffe, then comes to a stop. Wolffe holds his ground as he waits for their next move, but he doesnât have to wait long. A large, older looking pure white wolf steps out from the circle. The alpha of the pack, Wolffe assumes. He knows what he needs to do, but even in the face of all of these wolves, heâs reluctant. Without an explanation, heâs not sure how you will react to what heâs about to do, but at this point he doesnât have a choice.
To your surprise, Wolffe starts shucking off his armor, tossing it about haphazardly until heâs only left in his black bodysuit. You watch him with bewilderment, trying to understand why heâd take his armor off during a situation like this. Heâll freeze to death with so little coverage and be vulnerable to attack. You remember his words about not moving, but you want to reach out and touch him. He must be able to read your thoughts because he turns his head to look at you.
âRemember what I said?â Wolffe asks.
âNo moving,â you answer. âBut Wolffeââ
Wolffe puts a finger to your lips. âTrust me.â
You nod your head and kiss his finger, earning you a sly grin.
Wolffe turns to face the white wolf and you canât believe what youâre seeing. Bright yellow lights emanate from Wolffeâs fingertips, his toes, his eyes, and his mouth. Wind blows by your head and swirls around him, obscuring everything but his silhouette. You watch as his body morphs into a smaller form and your breath is stolen in awe. He doesnât make a sound, even as his body contorts into unfamiliar angles. The wind and light disappear and whatâs left behind is a wolf.
âWolffe?â you ask hesitantly, body shaking from what you just witnessed.
Wolffe cranes his neck around and looks back at you with a single, piercing, golden eye, the other eye is still cybernetic and the scar over it has morphed to fit his new facial figure.
âYouâre a⊠wolf,â you stutter in shock.
Youâre stunned. When Wolffe asked you to trust him, you werenât expecting this. You stare at his new form, a manâs body traded in for dark gray fur across his face and ears that travels down his back, a lighter cream color across his belly and legs, and a black stripe down the middle of his back that stretches to the tip of his fluffy tail. Heâs a wolf, thereâs no mistake about it. You canât help but admire his beauty, and also feel a level of terror at the teeth hidden in his mouth.
Quite the show, the Alpha says.
Wolffe turns his head back to look at the Alpha. Not great. Rusty.
The Alpha considers Wolffe for a moment, unsure of what to make of him. Your wolf-speak is less than to be desired.
Wolffe snorts. Been a time.
The Alpha is not impressed with Wolffe and circles around you both, sizing up the situation.
As the Alpha moves around you, you notice that itâs much larger than Wolffe, but it also seems much older. Youâre not sure why, but thatâs the impression you get. You can see multiple scars across his body, each one a proud win against another wolf, you suppose, just as the clones have scars from their battles. To you, everything is quiet. You canât hear them communicating, but you watch their body language and hear their growls, which still doesnât mean much to you.
Wolffe plants his paws firmly into the snow, ears pinned, and snarls. Back!
Easy, pup, the Alpha says as he makes a full circle back to where he started. Iâm only observing.
Not pup, Wolffe growls.
No? the Alpha questions. Then what are you?
Alpha, Wolffe answers. Own pack.
The Alpha looks at Wolffe with intrigue. Oh? I would have never guessed. Youâre rather small for an alpha.
Wolffe barks at the insult, baring his fangs in an intimidating display.
It works, well, at least on you it does. You flinch at the sudden loud noise.
The Alpha disregards it and looks past Wolffe to you. What is that? A hunting trophy?
Wolffeâs fur bristles at the insinuation and rumbles out a low protective growl. Mate.
Odd choice⊠the Alpha says as he continues to stare at you with mild interest. He decides to ignore you for the time being. Tell me, alpha, what are the laws that govern?
Wolffe cringes at the question. He knows the answer, itâs written somewhere in the DNA that entangles with his own, but his wolf-speak is poor and he canât put the words together.
Has your tongue gone still? the Alpha goads. Trespassing in another packâs territory is an offense punishable by death.
Wolffe retakes his defensive stance and bares his fangs.
The Alpha pauses for a moment before responding. However, I am feeling generous today, young alpha.
Wolffeâs ears twitch.
You have two choices, the Alpha offers. Join our pack at a lower rank and weâll let your mate go free or give us your mate as tribute and you may go free. The choice is yours.
Wolffe snorts at the two bleak choices and decides to make his own third option. He raises his head and howls loudly towards the sky.
The sound is deafening and you cover your ears to try and muffle it. Youâre not sure what theyâre doing now, but the tension and uncertainty is making your skin crawl. The golden eyes that stare at you from around the forest make you feel small and afraid. You wish to be able to speak to Wolffe, to get any shred of reassurance that everything will be okay, but he hasnât said a word to you. Your best guess is that he canât talk to you, which is the only thing that makes sense right now.
Wolffe finishes his howl and waits for the response.
You want to fight? the Alpha asks. A bold move for one so young and stupid.
Not dumb, Wolffe replies. Protect mine.
The Alpha snorts, then stares into Wolffeâs eyes as he searches his soul. You have the spirit of ages within you, young alpha. My old eyes can still see. The Alpha pauses. I will respect your wishes. If you win, you and your mate will earn safe passage through our land, but if I win, you will join our pack and your mate will perish.
Wolffe takes a deep breath. He has too much to lose not to stay focused. Seal it. Sing the song.
The Alpha lifts his muzzle towards the sky and howls. Wolffe then joins in the howling, letting their wolf-songs mingle and intertwine in the sky like a binding contract.
Promise, Wolffe says. Mate not hurt.
You have my word, the Alpha says. Your mate will not be touched during our fight.
Wolffe nods and takes a fighting stance. The Alpha does the same.
You watch the two wolves with great anticipation as your legs tremble beneath you. Youâre still unsure about whatâs going on, but whatever it is, you trust Wolffe. At least, thatâs what you keep telling yourself. Thatâs what he told you to do and thatâs what you have to hold on to. You must have faith and believe that Wolffe will work things out and you can both go home soon. But waiting in silence, without knowing, is slowly killing your nerves. You want to run and escape.
Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Wolffe and the Alpha lunge towards each other, fangs bared. A gasp escapes your throat and you have to tell your trembling legs not to move, just like Wolffe told you. The two wolves collide, both going for each otherâs necks. You watch in horror as tufts of gray and white fur are flung about into the air. The sounds of growling and snarling fill your ears as they tumble in the snow, one on top of the other and then vice versa.
The Alpha pins Wolffe to the ground and clamps his jaw around Wolffeâs shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.
âWolffe!â you yell and take an automatic step towards him, forgetting Wolffeâs order not to move.
A wolf on the sidelines catches your movement and lunges towards you. You scream and fall back onto the ground. Your cry alerts Wolffe and he snaps his head up. With strength unknown to him he kicks the Alpha off of him and leaves his fight to get to your side. He snarls at the wolf and nips at his legs, causing it to retreat back to the circle. Wolffe whips around and looks into your frightened eyes. He brings his nose to your face and gives your cheek a small, gentle lick.
As sweet as the gesture may seem to Wolffe, you wish you could feel anything other than fear. Thereâs blood on Wolffeâs muzzle and blood on his fur, reminding you of what he is doing.
Wolffe turns his attention back to the Alpha and barks. Liar!
The immature actions of a young pup, the Alpha says. I assure you, he will be punished severely. The Alpha glares toward the younger wolf in his ranks and bares his fangs with a low growl. The younger wolf cowers back with his ears flattened and his tail between his legs. Shall we continue?
Wolffe agrees and the fight recommences as they both tumble through the snow once again. Nipping and biting at each otherâs necks, legs, bellies, and backs. Wolffe gets in a few bites, but the Alpha is much bigger and stronger, yielding better results with his bites, which leaves Wolffeâs beautiful gray fur coat marred with blood. He pauses to catch his breath and looks back at you, his strength and reason to fight. Mustering what he can, Wolffe forces himself to continue.
The yelp Wolffe makes when the Alpha sinks his fangs into his neck is unbearable. All you can do is watch and pray to the Maker that Wolffe survives this. You donât know what started the fight, you donât know the rules, and you donât know what will happen to you if Wolffe dies. You shake your head at the macabre thought and focus on Wolffe surviving. You wish you could help him. You wish you could do more than watch as he lies helpless and whimpering in the snow.
Wolffe is out of breath and running out of strength. For a wolf so young, his stamina isnât at peak performance, but for someone who rarely uses his wolf form, itâs better than he thought it would be. He lays in the snow, chest heaving as he tries to breathe. The bites sting him like fire and slow him down. Heâs not sure how much longer heâll be able to last. He knew he didnât stand a chance against a seasoned alpha. He may be the leader of the âWolfpackâ, but heâs no alpha.
You want to cry. You donât know how long the fight has been going on, but youâre getting sick of it. You know youâre not supposed to move, but you can still speak. They canât stop you from cheering him on. Whether he understands your words or not is a gamble youâre willing to take, because you canât lose him like this. âWolffe!â you yell. âWolffe, get up!â
Through his pained haze, Wolffe can hear your voice calling out to him. The sweet sound of his meshâla, warped by the fear caught in the back of your throat. He knows youâre trying to be strong for him and he finds it endearing. The need to protect you and to protect his unborn child, overrides his pain. He shifts his legs in the snow, trying to get back up, using your voice as a crutch to stand. He rocks himself onto his stomach and hoists himself up onto his shaky legs.
Will protect, Wolffe chokes out between pants as blood drips from his muzzle. Wonât lose. My mate. My pup.
The Alpha watches Wolffe carefully. His own white coat has been stained by blood. Some of it is his but most of it is from Wolffe. He finds the young alpha compelling. His protectiveness over his mate is rivaled by that of many an alpha and he admires him for his strong will. The Alpha can sense it strongly now, the spirit that resides in Wolffe. An ancient spirit from many generations before him. The one that chases the moon at night and howls with his brethren in chorus song.
The Alpha approaches Wolffe and bows. I concede to you, young alpha.
Wolffe heaves in a labored breath, his shaking legs about to buckle underneath him. Heâs not sure if this is a trick, but according to the laws that govern, this means he wins.
The Alpha steps closer and Wolffe takes a cautious step back.
Your spirit, the Alpha begins to explain, itâs strong and powerful; ancient as the dancing lights that adorn the heavens. Donât lose it.
Wolffe stares into the golden eyes of the Alpha and sees his truth. He bows to the Alpha, turns, and limps his way over to you.
You and your mate will have safe passage through our land, the Alpha exclaims to Wolffe and his own pack.
Wolffe turns back to look at the Alpha. Thank you.
And with that, the pack of wolves disappear into the trees as silently as they came. You stare with wide-eyes, then drop to the ground, your legs refusing to bear the load of your body any longer. You donât know if you should cry, scream, or laugh. Regardless, you and Wolffe are safe, at least you hope you're safe. You startle for a moment when you feel Wolffeâs nose touch you. You look into his tired eyes, trying to read them as best as you can, but you understand nothing.
âCan you turn back?â you ask. âTo a human?â
Too weak, he answers, but his voice wonât reach your ears.
You sigh when you get no response. With no way to communicate with Wolffe, youâre not sure what to do. You donât know where you are and with no comms to contact the battalion, youâre on your own. You stretch out your hand to pet Wolffeâs head, but you recoil it when you get too close, scared he might not be who you think he is. Wolffe sees your hesitation and lifts his head into the palm of your hand, nuzzling it for comfort. You smile and scratch behind his ears.
Overcome with the emotion you are holding in, you throw your arms around Wolffeâs neck and bury your face in his soft fur. âYou saved us. Thank you.â
Wolffe wants to melt into your embrace, but a snowflake landing on his nose reminds him of the other situation. Wolffe pulls out of your arms and starts pushing at his armor with his nose, piling it together. You tilt your head at his actions, but when you see the snow start to fall again, you get the idea. You stack Wolffeâs armor neatly and wrap a cord around it so you can tie it to your pack. Wolffe grabs his bag between his teeth and you grab yours, slinging it onto your back.
Wolffe starts limping forward and you walk closely behind him, following his lead through the forest. If anyone can get you home, itâs Wolffe. You soon reach the end of the forest and stare out into the wide advance of nothingness. The snow falls harder and the wind begins to howl. You shiver as the cold air breaches your layers of clothing. Wolffe turns around and stands behind you. He noses at his bucket tied to your pack and you wonder what he wants.
You put your pack down and carefully remove his bucket from the neatly tied package of armor, then hand it to Wolffe, unsure of what he could possibly want with it in that form. Itâs not as if it will fit on his head.
If Wolffe could roll his eyes, he would, but instead he pushes his nose against the bucket so it goes back towards you.
You sigh and shake your head, still unsure of what he wants you to do with it.
Put it on! Wolffe growls as he drops his pack from his mouth.
His sudden outburst startles you. âI donât know what you want me to do!â you snap at him.
Wolffe tries to calm himself. The language barrier is grating on him, so he takes the bucket in his mouth and places his front paws on your knees to gain some height, then haphazardly drops the bucket on top of your head. It sits crooked and looks funny from Wolffeâs vantage point, but it should get the point across.
âOh,â you realize. âYou want me to wear it.â
Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand as an affirmation.
You situate his bucket on your head, but itâs too big on you and bobbles around. You think you look ridiculous, but if this is what Wolffe wants then this is what youâre going to do. Itâs probably to keep your face from freezing off in the cold, but it could have other uses as well and you just donât know it.
âHow do you see out of this thing?â you ask as you try to walk forward, but the HUD throws you off balance.
Wolffe canât smile or laugh, but he snorts through his nostrils at your comment. He sees just fine out of it, but then again, it is made for him.
You watch Wolffeâs reaction to your comment and wonder. âCan you understand me?â you ask.
Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand again to answer your question.
âWe can work with that,â you think out loud. âWe need some way to communicate... How about for yes or no questions, touch your nose to my hand for yes and growl for no?â
Wolffe touches his nose to your hand in agreement.
âWell, that was easy,â you breathe.
Actually, none of this is easy. You're several klicks away from your battalion, out in the middle of a snowstorm with a small amount of supplies, and an injured Wolffe who seems to be stuck in a wolfâs body. At least, thatâs what you gather from the fact that he is still a wolf and not a human. You donât have any way to confirm that theory, but you canât imagine that he would choose to stay a wolf if he had a choice. The words you speak in your mind surprise yourself and you sigh.
Wolffe can smell the storm coming and he nudges your back to push you forward, causing you to stumble.
âHey!â you turn around and exclaim. âJust because youâre a wolf doesnât mean you canât have manners!â
Wolffe snorts, picks his pack back up, and limps past you.
You huff, then hoist your pack onto your back and follow after him.
Youâre not sure how long youâve been walking, but your legs are tired and your body is freezing. The blizzard began to rage not long after you left the forest, and you're both out in the thick of it without much protection. The wind whips around you and threatens to knock you over as it bites your skin through your clothing. Wolffe was smart with making you wear the helmet. Thereâs no way you wouldâve been able to see without it and your ears would have fallen off already.
You have one hand holding the strap of your bag and the other holding onto Wolffeâs tail as he guides you forward through the storm. You donât know where heâs leading you, but you trust him that itâs towards shelter. Well, thatâs what you're hoping for anyway. He, at least, has fur and is made for this type of weather, but, you donât have a fur coat to keep you warm and your two heavy legs sink further into the deep snow while his four lighter legs sit closer to the surface.
It doesnât take much longer for you to start staggering, which doesnât go unnoticed by Wolffe when his tail gets yanked. It hurts, but itâs better than losing you in the storm, so he bears it without complaint. Itâs when you let go of his tail that he gets worried. He turns around and looks back to see you laying still in the snow. Panic washes over him and he limps back over to you. He knows that if you stay like this, youâll get buried in the snow and he canât let that happen.
Wolffe drops his pack and digs with his paws to get your head out of the snow. He pushes you with his nose to try and get you back up, but you donât budge. He knows youâre still alive, he can hear your heartbeat, but you still wonât move. He digs around each side of your body as the snow continues to bury your limbs. He grabs onto your outer jacket with his teeth and pulls, but with the weight of the snow you're too heavy for him. He steps back to reassess the situation.
Wolffe paces beside you as he tries to think, then howls in frustration towards the gray sky. Get up, cyare, Wolffe pleads. Please, get up.
He noses at your face, but gets no reaction.
Weâre so close, Wolffe says, trying to encourage you to keep moving, like you did for him during the fight, but his voice falls on deaf ears. You have to get up! Thatâs an order!
He still gets no response. Not even a stir from you.
Donât make me do this, cyare, Wolffe growls.
He only has one option left and it makes him sick to his stomach. Itâs the last thing he wants to do, and he hopes you will forgive him when this is all over, but heâll do anything to keep you safe. To keep you both safe. He digs out your left arm that has been re-buried by the heavy falling snow and bites down hard.
You jerk at the searing pain in your arm.
The adrenaline in your body starts pumping and you're quickly awoken. You figure you must have fallen asleep since youâre laying in the snow. You look up through the HUD with half-lidded eyes and see Wolffe crouching in front of you, your arm in his mouth. Heâs biting you. Heâs eating you. You stare at your arm as blood begins to soak through your coat sleeve. Youâre scared. Not of the storm, but of Wolffe. He has your arm in his mouth and you're afraid heâll rip it off.
âGet off me!â you yell hoarsely, scrambling to get up out of the snow and away from him. âIâm not your dinner!â
Wolffe drops your arm before you hurt yourself. Iâm sorry.
You stare at him and then your bloody arm in shock and disbelief. âYou bit me!â
Regret washes over him at your reaction. Iâm so sorry.
âWhy?â you ask. You feel heartbroken and confused as to why Wolffe would bite you. Why he would intentionally hurt you. You donât understand. All of those sweet promises heâs whispered in your ear during moments of passion slip away on the raging winds of the blizzard. He told you heâd never hurt you, but he did. He hurt you and youâre bleeding. âWhy would you do that?â
Wolffe drops his tail between his legs and lays himself flat against the snow to seem less intimidating. He wishes he could explain, but he canât. He never meant for you to misconstrued his intentions so far as to think he would attack you on purpose, or eat you. Itâs the worst-case scenario, but heâd rather have you alive and hate him than have you dead and love him. You both need to keep moving, but he lets you settle down before making any more movements.
You lie in the snow as you let the adrenaline run its course. The snow starts to pile around you and in a moment of clarity, you understand why he bit you. If he didnât wake you, then you would have been buried in the snow and froze to death. It doesnât make the wound hurt any less, and youâll never forget what it looked like to have your arm bleeding in his mouth, but you can push past your anger for the moment and move on. You can talk about it later when youâre both safe.
You make an attempt to push yourself up and out of the snow, but struggle. Wolffe gets up and places his muzzle under your other arm, trying to help lift you so you can stand. You get the picture and use him to pull yourself out of the snow. Once youâre up, you lean against Wolffe to help regain your balance before trekking on. Moving is a chore for both of you now. Between his wounds and limp and your frozen and tired body, itâs a miracle youâve even gotten this far.
When youâre ready to get moving, you grab onto Wolffeâs tail. He picks up his pack, and once again guides you through the blizzard to shelter. Itâs not much further before you see a dark shadow appear through the blinding snow. As you get closer, you see the outline of a cabin and breathe a sigh of relief. You knew Wolffe would find shelter, and youâre so thankful that heâs with you. If it werenât for him, youâd still be back in the woods, waiting to be devoured by wolves.
You approach the cabin and Wolffe scratches at the wooden door, whining for you to open it. You pull the latch and Wolffe drops his pack and runs in before you to be sure itâs safe. The last thing you need is more danger or obnoxious critters. The cabin is dark and cold, but solid, and not too drafty. It will do just fine to wait out the rest of the blizzard. Wolffe circles back from his perimeter search and presses his nose into your hand to let you know itâs safe for you to enter.
With Wolffeâs nose-touch of approval, you pull the door shut against the merciless winds and latch it closed. You drop your pack down, pull out some glow sticks, and the small heat lamp you had in your tent. You crack the glow sticks and place them around the outer areas of the cabin to get some much needed light, then place the small heater in the middle of the room. It wonât throw enough heat for the entire cabin, but it will take the chill out of your bones for the time being.
Wolffe can see without the glow sticks, but he knows you canât. As you settle in, he does a more thorough reconnaissance and assessment of your situation. Thereâs a fireplace, some chopped wood, an old table, some broken cabinets with no food in them, and a worn out rug in the middle of the floor. Itâs not much, but itâs enough. More than enough, actually. Wolffe turns when he hears you strike a match to light the fireplace. The small fire casts a warm orange glow in the room.
Finally able to relax, you take Wolffeâs bucket off and place it on the table alongside his armor. You pull your coat and gloves off, and blow into your hands to warm them up. It will take a little for the fire to heat the entire cabin. You look over at Wolffe and see the blood dripping from his shoulder. Youâre not sure how heâs still standing, but you need to get that wound taken care of before it becomes infected. You grab the medpack from your pack and walk over to the fire.
âCome here,â you call as you sit crisscross on the rug and pat the area next to you.
Wolffe, absolutely exhausted, slowly limps over and lies down on the carpet beside you. He places his muzzle on your left leg and you run a hand across his head. He closes his eyes. You gently move your hand down to touch the area where his shoulder is bleeding and he whines. You frown, then grab the bacta and start applying it. Wolffe kicks out his hind leg at the pain, but he stays still for you. Finally, you wrap the wound in bandages, then take care of the other bites.
Once youâre done with Wolffeâs wounds, you move onto your own. You pull the sleeve up on your left arm, and wince as the movement opens the scabs that are stuck to the fabric.
Wolffe picks his head up off your leg when he hears your pain. He looks for the source and sees the puncture marks of his teeth on your arm. His stomach drops. He gave you that wound. Itâs his fault that youâre bleeding and he wishes he could fix it. If only he had the strength to change back, he could bandage your wound, instead of forcing you to do it yourself. In an effort to help, he leans forward and licks at your wound, but you recoil and reflexively whack his nose.
âOw!â you exclaim. âThat hurts!â
Wolffe whines and lowers his head to rest on the rug between his front legs. He didnât mean to hurt you even more. He just wanted to help. Iâm sorry, cyare.
You look at how sad he is and sigh. âIâm sorry,â you whisper. âI know you didnât mean it.â
Wolffe remains still, but lifts his eyes to look up at you.
You meet his gaze and offer him a sad smile. You can never stay mad at Wolffe for long, even if he did bite you. Usually you like it when he bites you, but not when his teeth are as sharp as a vibro-blade. Besides, thereâs no use in staying angry at him, not when heâs already saved your life three times in one day. You pat his head and give him a small scratch behind his ear, which seems to perk him up a little. âGood boy.â
Getting back to the task at hand, you apply the bacta to your wound and wrap it in a bandage. Itâs not the best job youâve ever done, but you did it with one hand, so you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Now that the wounds have been taken care of, you move onto food and water. You get up from the floor and rifle through Wolffeâs pack. You grab the canteens and rations from it, since you used your supply back in the forest, and sit back down next to Wolffe.
You reach out to hand one of the canteens to Wolffe, then stop when you remember he canât drink out of it like a person. You sigh, stand back up, and walk over to the kitchen area past the old wooden table. Thereâs no food in the cabinets, but there has to be a bowl you can use, and it doesnât take long for you to find one. You wipe it out with your shirt and bring it back to where you were sitting, then place it in front of Wolffeâs nose and pour the canteen of water into it.
Wolffe continues to lie on the floor, but picks his head up to lap at the water in the bowl. He didnât realize how thirsty he was until the first droplets hit his tongue and he eagerly drinks the rest of the bowl, being careful not to spill any of the precious resource. When you try to refill the bowl with more water, Wolffe stops you. He doesnât need it as much as you do, and if push comes to shove, itâs easier for him to go find water in his wolf form, than it is for you as a human.
Once youâve had your fill of water, you open up the ration pack and toss one of the bars to Wolffe. He catches it mid-flight in his mouth and eats the entire bar in one bite. Youâre a little surprised, but youâre not sure what you were expecting, considering the size of his mouth and what wolves actually eat for sustenance. You chuckle. âWell, those arenât going to last long.â
When you try to give Wolffe another ration bar, he does the same thing he did with the canteen of water and declines it. He intentionally doesnât catch it, and the second bar comically bounces off of his head and onto the ground. Wolffe gently picks the ration bar up in his mouth and drops it in your lap for you to eat. He can survive on the one ration bar for a while. Itâs more important to him that you get your proper nutrients to help keep you and the little one healthy and safe.
You pick up the ration bar and cringe in disgust that it has some of his wolf-saliva on it. But, then again, it canât be the worst bodily fluid of Wolffeâs youâve ever put in your mouth, so you eat it without complaint and try not to think about it too much.
After you finish the ration bar, you and Wolffe sit in silence for a while and just listen to the crackling fire in front of you and the howling blizzard outside. Itâs peaceful, in a sort of sense, and almost comforting. You look over at Wolffe and wonder if heâs fallen asleep. He has his front paws crossed with his head resting on top of them and his eyes are closed. You look back over at the fire and yawn, thinking itâs best for you to get some sleep as well. Youâre exhausted.
You get up off the floor, walk over to the table, grab the blanket from your pack, and sit back down next to Wolffe. You look over at him and his eyes are open and staring at you. You shake your head at his alertness. Not much gets past him. You stretch your arms out over your head, then lay the blanket on your body. You rest your head on the hard floor, which quickly becomes uncomfortable, and you know youâll wake up with a crick in your neck if you try to sleep like this.
You sit up and look at Wolffe, who is still watching you. âCan IâŠâ you fidget with the edge of the blanket. âCan I lay on you?â
Wolffe picks his head up and beats his tail against the wooden floor.
You giggle at his response. âIâll take that as a yes.â
Wolffe changes his position and lies out flat on his side with his legs outstretched towards the fire. He doesnât care what position he sleeps in, because his fur works as a buffer against even the hardest of surfaces. Heâll gladly be your pillow and heâs happy to oblige you. You're still his cyare, even when heâs in his wolf form. The wolf form changes nothing about how he feels about you or his devotion and duty to protect you. He may be in a wolfâs body, but his heart is his own.
You situate yourself between Wolffeâs legs and lay your head on his side, being careful not to disturb any of the bandages. His body is warm and his fur is soft. You can feel him breathing steadily as his chest rises and falls, and the sound of his heartbeat is so similar to his human form that when you close your eyes, you can imagine itâs him youâre laying against. You nuzzle your cheek against Wolffeâs soft fur and let yourself drift off to sleep, safe by his side.
When you wake up, you feel a slight chill and notice the fire has died down. You need to get up to put more logs on it to stay warm, but you donât want to move. You lazily rub your face against Wolffe, but it doesnât feel right. Thereâs no fur. You pick your head up and look at Wolffe, but heâs no longer a wolf, heâs human. Heâs also completely naked. Realizing that heâs going to freeze to death being exposed like that, you lay your blanket on top of him and get up to rekindle the fire.
You're glad heâs back to normal. You werenât sure how long he was going to be a wolf, or if he was ever going to change back into the man you know, but you feel relieved now. You carefully lift the blanket to check the bandages, and you can see his injuries better now without the fur, and they look good. Nothing is infected, but the bandage on his shoulder needs to be changed. You run your fingers through his hair, then warm yourself by the fire and wait for him to wake up.
Itâs not much longer before Wolffe begins to stir and shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden floor. You smile as you hear the familiar grunt he makes when he wakes up from a good nightâs sleep and you bask in the sound of the deep voice you love so much. You turn from the fire to look at him, and you see him try to push himself up from the floor and onto all fours. You scoot across the rug and gently push him back down before he reopens the wound on his shoulder.
âCyare,â Wolffe says, his voice rough with sleep. He tries to touch his nose to you, but he misses by several inches, not realizing that heâs back to his human form.
âItâs me,â you giggle.
âYou can understand me?â Wolffe asks in confusion.
âYouâre you again,â you explain as you grab his hand and touch it to his face. âSee? No fur.â
Wolffe grunts like he has a hangover and places a hand against his throbbing head. âMust have changed back in my sleep.â
âYeah, about thatâŠâ you say, trying to segue into the obvious.
Wolffe slowly sits up, the blanket falling down around his waist. âItâs a long story.â
âWeâve got time,â you counter while sitting down next to him. âThe blizzard hasnât let up.â
Wolffe sighs. He knew this conversation was coming and he thought of several ways to explain it to you without it sounding like some bizarre folktale, but heâd rather not. âYou wonât believe me.â
âTry me,â you say with folded arms.
A shiver runs up Wolffeâs spine and he realizes heâs naked. âCan I have my blacks first?â
âOh, yes, of course,â you say before getting up and grabbing the spare set of blacks Wolffe put in his pack, then returning to hand them to him. âSorry about that.â
Wolffe chuckles and grabs his blacks from your hands. âNothing to be sorry about.â
Wolffe quickly puts his blacks on and melts into the comfort of the tight bodysuit against his bare skin. He sits back down next to you and immediately pulls you into his lap, your back against his chest, and wraps his arms around your stomach while burrowing his face in your neck. He peppers your neck with soft kisses, making you smile. His kisses become longer, more focused, and he trails them from your neck down to your shoulder as his hands creep under your shirt.
âWolffe,â you say knowingly.
âHm?â he mumbles into your neck.
âYouâre stalling,â you say as you remove his hands from under your shirt.
Wolffe grunts at your perceptiveness. He really thought he could make you forget by working you up, but he was dead wrong. You want to know, and he knows you well enough that you wonât let it go until you have an answer. With a heavy sigh, he stops his attack of kisses and shuffles you around in his lap so youâre facing him. âAre you sure you want to know?â
âYes,â you answer. âTell me everything.â
Wolffe sighs and begins his recount of the events.
âIt was near the beginning of the war. My first campaign after losing my battalion and my eye. I was at my lowest point back then.â
Your shoulders slump and eyes soften at his words.
âDuring the campaign I got separated from the battalion, on a world similar to this one, and I found myself cold and alone on the side of a snowy mountain, staring up at the night sky and waiting to die. Thought I was going to.â
You lean your head on his shoulder as you continue to listen.
âThen I saw these green and blue lights appear out of nowhere and dance across the black sky, right over my head. They were beautiful. As I stared up at the lights, I saw this white figure jumping down from them like it was a staircase or something. As it got closer, it kinda looked like a wolf, but it was see-through and wispy-like. Iâd never seen something like that before.â
You chuckle at Wolffeâs descriptions.
âYou find it funny, but I thought I was dying and seeing things. So, the wispy-wolf-looking thing came over to me, and I mean it stood right next to me, and started talking to me. It said I had a âstrong heartâ and a âwise mindâ, or something like that, and then it asked me if I wanted to live. I actually thought about saying no, but I ended up saying yes for whatever reason.â
You grab onto Wolffe tightly, and he rubs your back to soothe you.
âThen it spoke again and said it was an ancient wolf-spirit that travels across the night sky, waiting for someone worthy who can tether it back to the ground, or something like that. It didnât make much sense to me, but I agreed. It was better than dying on that mountainside. Then that thing walked right inside of me and I nearly pissed myself.â
You snort.
âThat was my first transformation into an actual wolf. Once I was in the wolf form, I could smell and see and sense all kinds of things. Thatâs how I found my way back to the battalion. The general was the only one who knew it was me, through the force I guess, and we never told anyone. It took a little to figure out how to transform back, but the wolf-spiritâs been inside me ever since.â
âYou canât get rid of it?â you ask. âJust out of curiosity.â
âNot that I know of,â Wolffe shrugs. âItâll probably leave me when I die, and go back up into the dancing lights.â
âI guess that makes sense,â you say.
Wolffe tilts his head to the side. âIt does?â
âWell, yeah,â you answer.
âSo, you believe me?â Wolffe asks.
âOf course,â you say with a small laugh. âThereâs no reason not to. Besides, thereâs lots of things in this galaxy that we donât know about, and wolf spirits now arenât one of them.â
Wolffe gives you a crooked smile and places his forehead against yours. âI donât deserve you.â
You lean into the embrace and sigh, but your happy moment is interrupted by your growling stomach.
âHungry?â Wolffe asks.
âA little,â you answer while getting off his lap.
You walk over to the table and pull out the last package of rations from Wolffeâs pack. You open the package and put one of the bars in your mouth, then throw the other one to Wolffe. He catches it, but he doesnât eat it.
âYou can have mine,â Wolffe says.
You cross your arms. âYou need to eat.â
âI can wait,â he says.
âYou're injured,â you argue. âYou need energy to recover.â
âI have reserves,â he retorts.
âWolffe,â you huff. âIâm not arguing with you. Eat the bar.â
âI said, no,â he says sternly.
âFine,â you say as you put your coat on. âThen Iâll go find you something to eat.â
Wolffe gets up from the floor and grabs your arm. âYouâre not going anywhere.â
You give Wolffe an incredulous look, then yank your arm back. âWhat is your problem all of a sudden?â
âIâll go out and find us some food,â he says.
âYouâre injured!â you exclaim. âIf you transform back into a wolf, youâre going to break open your wound!â
âThatâs a risk Iâm willing to take,â he says.
âWell, Iâm not,â you huff and start walking towards the cabin door.
Wolffe stands in front of it with his arms crossed. âYouâre staying in this cabin and thatâs an order.â
âWolffe, I swear to the Maker, you canât just pull rank on me whenever it suits you!â you exclaim.
âToo bad,â he says.
You fume and try to push past him. âGet out of my way!â
Wolffe groans. âStop fighting me!â
âStop telling me what to do!â you yell.
Wolffe grabs your shoulders and shakes you. âWhat do I have to do, huh?â he asks. âTie you up?â
âMaybe,â you sneer.
âWhy canât you just listen to me?!â he exclaims.
âBecause,â you begin, âyouâre not making the best decision for the two of us!â
Wolffeâs patience snaps. âOnly because Iâm trying to make the best decision for the three of us!â
You pause, taken aback by his choice of words. âThree?â
Wolffe sighs and leans his head back against the door, kicking himself for saying the one thing he didnât want to say.
âWolffe,â you ask slowly. âWhat do you mean by three?â
Wolffe wipes his hand across his face and looks at your confused expression. âYouâre pregnant.â
You gasp in shock. âWhatâ Howâ Whenâ How do you know that?â
Wolffe rubs the back of his neck. âIt started out as more than a hunch, but when I transformed into a wolf, I knew for sure because I could hear its heartbeat.â
You place a hand on your stomach and stagger backwards, looking for a place to sit as you try to process this life-changing information.
Wolffe catches you and guides you to one of the chairs by the table. He kneels down in front of you and takes your hands in his. âI wasnât going to say anything until you figured it out on your own. Iâm sorry. It wouldâve been difficult to explain.â
You stare at Wolffe, still in disbelief. âIâm pregnant?â
Wolffe nods his head. âYeah.â
âIâm pregnant,â you say as you continue to stare at Wolffe.
Wolffe isnât sure what to do, so he just stays still and waits for you to make the next move.
Suddenly, the lightbulb turns on in your head. âThatâs why you gave me your rations and why you didnât want me to leave.â
Wolffe lets his shoulders relax as you finally understand. âExactly,â he sighs. âI was worried about the baby.â
You start to laugh and Wolffe raises his eyebrow in confusion. You throw your arms around Wolffeâs neck and squish yourself against him tightly. He pulls you from the chair to sit in his lap and holds you there for as long as you will let him. He rubs your back with his hands and soothes you with soft kisses along your neck.
âWill you let me take care of you now?â he whispers.
âYeah,â you mumble.
Wolffe gives you one last big squeeze, then hoists you up to carry you over to the rug near the fire. He places you down gently on the rug and wraps you up in the blanket, then gives you a small kiss on the cheek. âIâll be back soon.â
âPromise?â you ask.
âPromise,â he answers.
Wolffe removes his blacks, since itâs the only pair he has and he doesnât want to ruin them, then hands them to you. âHere, they should smell like me now.â
You smile, take them from him, and breathe in his calming scent.
Wolffe leaves the cabin, making sure the door latches securely behind him, then transforms into a wolf so he can find some food. His shoulder wound still hurts, but he can walk on it without much of a limp now, which is fine for him. Even if it was broken, he would still go out and find you food. The urge to protect and provide is so much stronger now that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that youâre carrying his child. He would do anything to keep you both safe.
Now that youâve settled down and have time to think, you feel bad for being angry and argumentative with Wolffe. Everything heâs done for you since he first found you in the forest has been to protect you and the baby you didnât even know about. You canât even begin to imagine how difficult it has been for him to keep that secret for so many weeks. Youâre body hasnât changed, so it never even occurred to you that you could be pregnant, but he knew.
You wait diligently in front of the fire for Wolffe to return, wishing you had a data-pad to distract yourself with, or even a deck of cards, or anything. Waiting in the quiet is making you fidget out of boredom, and if youâre not careful, youâll fidget your fingernails right off your fingers. You need something busy yourself with, so you scan around the cabin to try and find inspiration. Then you realize that whatever food Wolffe brings back with him is going to need to be cooked. Bingo.
You throw Wolffeâs top blacks over your head, so you donât have to carry the blanket around, and you walk over to the kitchen portion of the room. You go through all of the broken cabinets and drawers until you find something to cook in. You have a fire, but throwing some dead carcass on an open flame makes your stomach churn. Eventually, you find a large pan hidden away in a corner. Itâs a little dusty, but itâll do. You clean it off, then set it near the fire to preheat.
Satisfied with your preparations, you sit back down onto the rug and continue to wait for Wolffe. Your wait isnât much longer before Wolffe returns from his hunt, but then again, without a chronometer, you canât tell how long heâs actually been gone. The latch on the cabin door opens, then closes abruptly, and you smile while stoking the fire. You hear him take a few steps into the cabin as the floor creaks beneath his weight, but the steps are followed by a loud thud.
You whip around to see Wolffe lying on the ground, his fresh kill next to him. You rush over to check and make sure heâs still breathing, and he is. Thank the Maker. His body is cold from exposure, which makes sense, but you notice his breathing is labored and heâs sweating. You put your hand to his forehead and itâs hot. He has a fever. You curse under your breath, and check under the bandage on his shoulder. Itâs red around the edges, just what you were afraid of.
âWolffe,â you say. âI need you to get up for me.â
Wolffe groans.
âCome on,â you say while putting his arm around your shoulder. âYouâre too heavy for me. I need you to help me.â
Wolffe musters what he can and you do your best to drag him over to the rug by the fire. His body is cold, and you need to warm him up so he has a chance to fight the infection. You lay him down on the rug and work to get his blacks on. Itâs a struggle, and you wish he wouldâve stayed in his wolf form since it came with its own fur coat, but you guess itâs better if he can talk to you. You cover him with the blanket, then focus on cleaning and redressing his shoulder.
Once you get Wolffe situated, you turn your attention to the dead creature at the door. You're not completely sure how to turn it into dinner, so you just throw it into the pan next to the fire and hope for the best. Itâs better than starving, but you wish you could make it into soup to help Wolffe. You think for a moment, then get an idea. You grab snow from outside and use it to fill the pan. Then take the electrolyte package from the medpack and dump it in the pan too.
You look at your concoction brewing by the fire and narrow your eyes. âThatâs going to taste awful.â
âMeshâla,â Wolffe calls in between pants.
You turn your attention away from the pan and back to Wolffe, then scoot over to him. âIâm here.â
âSorry,â he breathes.
You smile and wipe his forehead with your sleeve. âDonât be. You took good care of me, of us. Now itâs my turn.â
Wolffe doesnât respond, but you know he would if he could. Whatâs important now is that he gets rest.
After a little while, you check on the weird soup youâre trying to make and see that the creature is thoroughly cooked, at least, you think itâs thoroughly cooked. You taste some of the âbrothâ and youâre not impressed, but at least it has salt and nutrients in it. You scoop up the broth into one of the bowls you found and bring it over to Wolffe. You situate yourself behind him so he can sit up against you and you can help him drink it. He fights you on it, but you eventually win.
Once youâre both fed, you throw more logs on the fire and settle in on the rug next to Wolffe. Heâs shivering from his fever, so you snuggle up to him to try and keep both of you warm. Itâs not ideal for you, but you know Wolffe would try to give you the blanket and his blacks if he knew you were cold, and you canât let him do that, not when heâs sick. With Wolffe heating your back and the fire heating your front, you let your mind slow down and drift off to sleep.
The next two rotations, you guess, are similar. Wolffeâs fever continues as he fights the shoulder infection and the blizzard still rages on outside. You wonder if itâll ever stop. The only good thing about the cold is that you can leave the leftovers outside and defrost them by the fire when you need them. Lucky for you, Wolffe brought back a decent sized creature that youâve been able to ration out. But, the food reserves are dwindling, and neither of you will survive on nothing.
Finally, on the third rotation, you think, Wolffeâs fever breaks and his infection looks much better. He continually apologizes to you for getting sick, but he knew that if he didnât bring back food, and he fell ill, you both would have been in trouble. You, of course, tell him not to worry about it and that youâre glad he came back safely. He saved your life, again, and you couldnât be more grateful. Actually, he saved both you and your babyâs life, which makes you love him even more.
Not long afterwards, you both notice a silence. Itâs still dark outside, but thereâs a certain sound missing. The sound of the howling winds. You walk over to the cabin door, with Wolffe right behind you, and you open it to see nothing but a white ground and a black sky. The storm is over. You smile and lean back against Wolffeâs chest in relief. Now you can leave and head towards the rendezvous point to meet up with the battalion. It wonât be difficult with Wolffe leading the way.
As you stare out into the darkness, hot puffs of breath mingling into the cold night air, the sky lights up with green and blue colored streaks. Your mouth gapes and your eyes widen at the magical sight. Itâs just like Wolffe described, dancing lights in the night sky. Wolffe wraps an arm around you and pulls you close against him and smiles. Heâs happy you get to see them too. Then he hears the spirit within him howl towards the dancing lights above and he feels complete.
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