Little Wolf (55 page)

“If you love something, you fight for it. You fight with it. You trust in it.” Nathaniel wasn’t lowering his voice at all.

“I’m not a fighter.” No matter what Tim said, Nathaniel refused to see reason. The fucker refused to give up. Tim ached to look at him. “I’m not.”

“Bullshit.” Nathaniel rose to his feet, and every inch of him was intimidating. He loomed over Tim, shaking with so much fury Tim was distantly surprised he hadn’t shifted. “A Dirus claims what’s theirs and they keep it.”

Tim stared up at him mutely, too conscious of his size next to Nathaniel’s greatness. Luca would have laughed to think of them together until he caught a glimpse of their matching marks. Tim had claimed
this
as if he had any right to. Nathaniel Neri carried an entire town with him and wanted someone who wouldn’t run away screaming from that very fact.

Tim could have run a town in his sleep. It didn’t mean he was what Nathaniel deserved. He raised himself up to his full, pathetic height. “You’re asking me to risk you getting hurt.”

Nathaniel curled his hands, as if he were close to shifting after all. He smelled like a bloodied kind of anger, but Tim stayed in front of him like a desperate idiot, too stupid in love to back away.

“You know what I’m asking you. You have since the second we met, but you won’t admit it.” Nathaniel’s voice rolled through the café. Tim had the vague impression of more customers scurrying away. In the momentary quiet and humming stillness, Tim heard the murmur of the television, familiar soap opera dialogue.

He snapped out of his daze. “
The hell
does that mean?”

Nathaniel stepped forward, and whether or not he meant to be intimidating this time didn’t matter. Tim lifted his chin and rocked on his heels at the force in front of him. His palms were sweaty. His chest was so tight he couldn’t breathe. Everything, every atom in his body, buzzed with electricity. In his mouth there was
snow
and
fire
and
smoke
and the needy scent of Nathaniel when he kissed Tim. Tim still had no label for it except
Nathaniel
.

Tim didn’t know what was on his face, but when he met Nathaniel’s stare and shook his head, Nathaniel swayed and stumbled back. Someone, Robin’s Egg, said, “Oh no,” in a cracked voice, and Nathaniel spun wildly toward the sound. It was the first time Tim had seen him unable to easily track someone.

Zoe moved too, stopping shy of touching Nathaniel herself. She hadn’t been there when Tim had met Nathaniel. Tim would have remembered her even if he didn’t recall much else from those moments that wasn’t Nathaniel: Nathaniel staring at him, Nathaniel starting to smile and then retreating when Tim had cringed away from him.

Nathaniel didn’t retreat, Tim knew that now. But he had then. He’d said one word, “
You
,” with a question in it, and then Tim had silenced him. Tim had forgotten that, his frightened thoughts not wanting him to dwell on how beautiful Nathaniel’s smile had been before Tim had ruined it by turning from him.

“It’s okay.” Nathaniel spoke roughly to either Zoe or Robin’s Egg, Tim couldn’t tell. He wouldn’t look at Tim. “Little Wolf.” Nathaniel kept his eyes on the fluttering, anxious fairy in front of him. “Little Wolf.” Tim’s lips parted but nothing came out. Nathaniel continued regardless. “Call me if you need help. Will you do that for me?”

“Nathaniel, don’t—” Zoe’s alarm was more frightening than anything else. Tim shot a glance at her, but she ignored him completely.

“It’s done.” Nathaniel turned toward Zoe and gave her a smile that made Tim whimper. “It was done twice, Zo’. Even I can accept it now. I should have accepted it the first time.”

Tim put a hand over his chest and shook his head again. “Stop.” His throat was thick and his eyes burned. He couldn’t hold on to a single thought, but he knew he’d messed up something. He didn’t want Nathaniel to leave. But no matter what Tim said, Nathaniel kept moving away. “Wait. Just… come back. We’re supposed to have lunch. Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” The air between them was raw, but Nathaniel was as unbelievable as he’d been when Tim had first laid eyes on him, broad and tall and strong, richly colored in brown and gold. He was a wolf, a real one. He was
the
wolf, and he might as well have been the only one in the world as far as Tim was concerned.

Tim itched to touch him, to pull him down until Tim was pressed against him and he was warm again. He thought Zoe might go for his throat if he tried; she was growling faintly, a wary, unhappy sound.

Tim turned toward Nathaniel. Nathaniel should have had the answers Tim wanted. “Weres are always hungry. I don’t understand.”

“I know.” There was that smile again. Tim recognized it from the street when Nathaniel had first kissed him, and again from that night on Nathaniel’s porch. He’d seen it at least a dozen times in his first month here. He looked down at his hands, surprised to find them hands and not claws dripping with blood, although he’d made no move to attack anyone. He lifted his head and caught Nathaniel breathing in deep. Nathaniel held the breath in his chest for a long moment and then let it out the way Tim did when he was learning a scent and wanted to remember it.

Then Nathaniel turned away.

Zoe barely acknowledged any of them as she followed him out. Tim watched Nathaniel through the glass, how he stood motionless on the sidewalk for a few more seconds and then slowly crossed the street.

Tim flinched at the sound of a chair being pushed back and scraping against the floor. He spun around as Carl got to his feet and slammed the soap opera magazine to the table. Carl pulled money out of his pocket and dropped that on the table too, then adjusted his hat without a word.

He didn’t have to speak. His scathing glance at Tim before he left through the gift shop entrance told Tim how badly he’d fucked up, even if Tim still didn’t know what he’d done.

N
O
ONE
seemed to think it was a good idea for Tim to leave the café, although everyone but the tourists seemed to abruptly remember they had someplace else to be. They weren’t malicious, Tim didn’t think. They would look at him, and when he’d look back, half-snarling, ready to demand some fucking answers, needing to know why one canceled lunch date hurt so much, they would vanish. By late afternoon the café had only a few tourists in it, and even Robin’s Egg was steering clear of the gift shop.

Tim stood behind the display case and glowered out at the street. He would never have expected Nathaniel to be the one to back down, or leave, or whatever the hell had happened that felt so final.

Tim’s chest ached. It could have been because he hadn’t eaten either, but he wasn’t inclined to try. The thought of food made him sick.

Nathaniel was probably down the street at the station. Tim knew that like he knew Nathaniel wouldn’t leave Tim alone and unprotected, no matter how angry he was with him. Nathaniel wouldn’t abandon his responsibilities to the town just because Tim wouldn’t give in on one issue.

Tim didn’t even want to leave. Wolf’s Paw was a weird town, but Tim was weird too. Wolf’s Paw was the kind of weird Tim could get used to, if he tried. He’d stayed in Los Cerros with its larger-than-average fairy population and its semi-infamous imp situation and he’d been fine. He could have stayed here a few more months, until… whenever. Whenever a relationship usually ended. He didn’t know when that was, but he could have done it.

If he’d been going to do that, stay and be Littlewolf and pretend no one was chasing him, he could have done other things too. There was a community college in Carson. He could have taken classes, maybe with Albert. It might be fun to learn things that weren’t conquest and domination.

Nathaniel was being unreasonable, which wasn’t like him. Nathaniel was important to the town, to weres in general, and Tim wasn’t. It was selfish to think otherwise, and Nathaniel wasn’t selfish. He was stupidly noble and badass and strong and a million other amazing things. Selfish wasn’t even on the list.

Around closing time some unwilling deputy, probably not Zoe, was going to arrive to take Tim to the cabin, or possibly to some place in town. Nathaniel had said before he thought Tim would be safer in town, and now… and now the odds were good that Nathaniel no longer wanted Tim around. He wouldn’t leave Tim unprotected, but he wouldn’t want him close.

That was fair, even if Tim had to bite down hard on his lip to stifle the sound he wanted to make. Fair was impossible. If things were fair, Tim would be taller and bigger and he’d have Luca crushed under his foot. If things were fair, Albert would have been shyly flirting with Graham right now and not some random tourist at the counter.

Whatever the fuck was going on between those two, Tim still wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think Albert was going to ask him for answers ever again. Carl had been full of contempt for Tim, but Albert had been
disappointed
. Tim had snapped at him too, once Nathaniel had gone, then felt guilty for snapping.

He hadn’t done anything except be logical. Apparently it was instinct or else in this town. All Tim’s instincts wanted him to do was run and hide behind Nathaniel forever. Nathaniel could be nice about that all he pleased, he could act like all he wanted to do was protect Tim, but Tim wasn’t going to get Nathaniel in trouble for him. If that meant he wasn’t boyfriend material for Nathaniel… well, he’d known that from the beginning.

“Honey,” Robin’s Egg called to him from the line where the café became the gift shop. Tim hadn’t expected her to call him that and blinked a few times to soothe his stinging eyes. She hadn’t spoken directly to him in hours. He’d thought she was as irritated with him as Carl was, but now he didn’t have to smell her to know she was feeling sorry for him. That was worse.

“You don’t have to say it. I know I messed up.” Tim sank down onto the stool and hunched his shoulders. “He thinks I should trust my instincts blindly, but I can’t do that.”

“Maybe it’s not just your instincts he wants you to trust,” Robin’s Egg suggested, floating delicately closer. “I recognize you weres see things differently, but as someone who sees truth”—Robin’s Egg put a finger against her mouth significantly, like she was speaking in some kind of code—“your colors are the same. That’s bound to create some issues when you both feel strongly about something.”

Tim considered that for a few minutes as though he had any idea what it meant. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but on the never-ending list of things I don’t understand, that is pretty high up there.” He slid forward to put his head in his arms. “Everything hurts.” He wasn’t kidding. His stomach was a tight knot, and the pain from it radiated outward. He had started the day half-sprawled over Nathaniel’s chest, and he was going to end it alone. He’d been alone before. He’d been alone most of his life. He’d been with Nathaniel for less than a week. It shouldn’t feel like this.

“I’m going to throw up,” he whined without moving.

Robin’s Egg brushed a hand through his hair.

“Stop being nice to me. You know I don’t deserve it.” The stool was all that was keeping him up. He’d weakened himself better than Luca could have. “Shit,” he swore, but Robin’s Egg continued to sweep his hair back. Tears pricked at Tim’s eyes again, and he flushed in embarrassment. He was the most pathetic Dirus to ever exist. Anger could keep Tim up, let him think. But he didn’t feel angry when he thought of Nathaniel’s expression before he’d left. He felt this hollow pull, like something wasn’t only missing but had been stolen from him. He had to know what it was so he could get it back. He swallowed to keep his voice even. “Why would he smile like that?”

“I wish I had the answer for you. But seeing the truth and knowing what someone is thinking are two different things.” Robin’s Egg withdrew her hand. “For example, I knew you were lying to us, but I didn’t know your name, and I didn’t know why you’d lied.”

Tim turned his head, then slowly lifted it. Robin’s Egg lowered her sparkly costume glasses expectantly. “Sorry?” Tim answered at last. “I never intended to be here this long. I didn’t think it’d hurt you. I’m sorry,” he said again, meaning it this time. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, despite what an asshole I am.”

Her mouth quirked, not that Tim knew what she thought was so goddamn funny. “You want to know why he was smiling, Little—Dirus?” Robin’s Egg leaned over Tim to pat his head again. Glitter touched down on Tim’s skin and vanished in the same moment. “Why do you think?”

“I drove him crazy and he snapped?” Tim could give reasons, easy. He hadn’t been thinking about it all afternoon or anything. “He realized he was finally going to be rid of me? He’s too nice to tell me to my face that I’ve once again disappointed him? That’s the face he makes when he breaks up with someone?” Tim’s breathing stopped. It figured his first relationship would last maybe three days. “Oh God.” He dropped his head to his arms and tried to regulate his breathing. Someone hadn’t just pulled something out of him; they had cut it out with dull claws. “He hates me.”