The Scars Give It All Away, Part One

[calliotrope]

The glare off the ice was brighter than usual, and the smell of his teammates on the bench stuck strong in his nostrils, familiar and overwhelming all at once. Games during the full moon weren’t that much different; the moon never truly compelled a change or violent behaviour, though when you were playing hockey it could be hard to tell anyway. Still, wild instincts itched under the skin and brought everything into sharper focus for all wolves-alphas especially. Sid constantly struggled to keep himself from flashing his eyes and dropping fang during face offs-a natural response to a direct challenge begging swift response.

They were on a power play, and Sid’s heart was going a million miles a minute. The sensory stimulus was nearly overwhelming. Sid wanted to jump the other team’s forward and make him submit.

“Sid. Calm.”

Sid tensed at the sound of Geno’s voice. It was pitched low and quiet-barely a whisper-nothing Sid could’ve heard if his hearing hadn’t been advanced by his birthright.

He took a deep breath and put his stick on the ice. He could keep it together. Had been keeping it together for years before joining the NHL. He wasn’t going to let the full moon impact his game.

The puck dropped. Sid slid it away from the other forward and hit Geno’s tape with picture-perfect accuracy. Geno’s eyes flashed golden for half a heartbeat before he powered it into the back of the net. And Sid was helpless to do anything but throw himself into a celebratory embrace, the cheers of the crowd overwhelming and perfect around them.

Geno had arrived in Pittsburgh looking every minute of the nineteen hour flight from Helsinki, plus however long he’d been in transit between there and his run from the KHL. Sid had stood beside Mario, watching the new arrival expectantly, even though he didn’t think Geno was a threat. The other wolf had spent too much time negotiating on his own behalf to be allowed into their pack’s territory, and even more to be allowed to play with the team. But all the same, new wolves made Sidney antsy.

When Geno stammered out a nervous ‘hello’ in broken English, his face earnest and hopeful, Sidney knew Geno was a wolf he could run with.

And then they stepped out onto the rink together for the first time a couple days later, and he knew Geno was a player he could skate with.

The problem came when he saw Geno smile for the first time-a real smile, after his first full moon with the pack and once he’d gotten over his nerves and they’d played a few games together-and Sidney knew Geno was a man he could love.

That’d been a few years ago. Geno’s smiles came more easily these days; careless and perfect. Every time Sid threw himself at Geno to celebrate a goal, the scent of the other wolf almost overpowered his common sense. Because no matter how good he smelled, or how amazing his smiles were, there was no escaping the simple, unavoidable truth:

“It would never work. We’re both alphas,” Sidney told Taylor the next day, bumping his fridge door shut with his hip and pausing to take a sip out of a bottle of water.

The packvelt was strained at this distance, but he could still tell Taylor was rolling her eyes at him. Only the strongest emotions managed to carry over the eight hundred miles between them-and they only ever passed between the two of them. His parents were closer, but they were barely a presence in his mind anymore. Probably because of the allegiance he’d sworn to Mario when he’d arrived in Pittsburgh. The packvelt didn’t always survive when wolves changed packs. That he still felt the connection to Taylor had always been a welcome relief, especially when he’d been a virtual stranger in unexplored territory.

“I’d think the bigger problem would actually be the PR nightmare of two of the Pittsburgh Penguins coming out together,” she pointed out.

He chose to ignore that. “Eventually he’s going to go back to Russia and mate with some gorgeous blond beta. Where would I be then?”

“Well, you’ll still be in love with him,” Taylor replied. “But at least if you do things my way you won’t regret not telling him.”

Sidney pulled the phone back from his ear and glared at it. It remained unrepentant. As, he suspected, did his sister. How did he get roped into having this conversation again? He never set out to talk to Taylor about Geno. Ever. It just seemed to happen. Like some sort of younger sister voodoo.

Sid finally pulled the wretched thing back to his ear. “Why don’t our talks ever make me feel better?”

“Because I refuse to listen to you mope, duh.” She sighed. “You know, if you hadn’t spent the first six years of your life as a wolf, you’d know how to behave like an actual human being.”

She wasn’t entirely incorrect, was the thing. There weren’t many human members in Sid’s parents’ pack, and they had enough territory to keep them occupied for months at a time. Many of the wolves in Canada favoured the open area and natural beauty of the Rockies and most of the Maritimes were unoccupied save for a few disparate and small packs. And as a kid Sid had loved exploring their world as a wolf. Things were sharper-the smells, the feeling of the ground beneath his paws, the taste of the salt-stained air-and he’d had to be coaxed back into his human skin every time.

The easiest way to do so had been to turn on a hockey game. His parents always said they’d found it telling.

“I’m not an actual human being,” Sid muttered.

“Right there? That’s your damage. You are just as human as you are wolf. And if you don’t start believing it then you’re going to doom yourself to being awkward and ridiculous for the rest of your life.”

“You’re a lot braver over the phone, you know.”

“Yeah. It’s nice not living in fear of you jumping at me.”

Taylor had been nipping at his heels in both her skins from the moment she’d realized she could. And really, pouncing was just a way of showing affection. Mostly.

The Geno issue finally tabled-for now, though he was certain she’d find a way to harp on him about it again-the discussion drifted to her trip out to see him for her spring break. Mario had gladly given her permission to enter the pack’s territory and it was all she’d been able to talk about for weeks-other than his ‘pathetic man-feels,’ anyway. They didn’t get to see each other much; he’d stayed in Pittsburgh for the off-season last year and missed her entire summer break. Mario had been negotiating pack rights to one of the State forests and needed Sid there, but he’d felt like a shitty brother afterwards. At least he got to see their parents a couple of times throughout the year.

Once she finished chirping him about how amazing it would be to share a moon together-it’d be full for one night during her visit, and he didn’t even have a game scheduled-she finally said her goodbyes.

“Please think about what I said. I heard all the wolves in Russia are alphas anyway.”

“I’m pretty sure Ovechkin started that rumour to terrify the rest of us,” Sidney said.

“Is that why everyone looks scared while he’s on the ice?”

“That’s just a matter of the filth that comes out of his mouth when he hits you.” Coupled with his tendency to look about a half-second away from changing and mauling someone. Sid was surprised more people hadn’t guessed at the presence of wolves in the NHL, not when Ovie was about as subtle as an elephant in a lingerie shop.

“Man, I can’t wait until our class trip to Washington. Bye!”

She hung up before he had a second to protest and Sid once again found himself staring at his phone. With a sigh, he set it down on the kitchen counter. He’d have to call Ovie and make sure the other wolf was aware that if he said anything inappropriate to Taylor, Sidney would have his head.

He still ended up therapeutically checking Ovie’s avatar on NHL 13 for an hour anyway.

Sid had never found the number of wolves in the NHL particularly surprising. To be honest, he’d expected there to be more. When he wasn’t in his wolf skin, there was an itchy press of excess energy biting at the back of his mind, and the quick pace of the game and need for snap reflexes helped burn some of it off. The physicality of it attracted countless wolves and kept them from dropping out, even when facing off against each other. And more than that, teams were like packs. Working together, closing ranks against the enemy… it was deeply appealing to the feral side of him.

When Jordy had left to play with Eric, it had left Geno and Sid the only wolves on the Pens. Surprisingly, it never felt lonely on the ice. He and Geno were ridiculously attuned to each other. Even in foreign rinks and bombarded by the scents of the crowd and sweat of the other players, he could pick Geno out from among them. It was part of his draw. The familiarity of his scent. The promise underlying it.

God, he was so fucked.

He headed over to Mario’s later that evening. He bought his house-his undecorated, cold and lonely house-to keep up appearances, but for the most part, he spent time at Mario’s. Or Geno’s, when he decided to torture himself and went over to hang out, reluctantly drink “real” vodka and frustrate himself with his inability to get the hang of Call of Duty.

He’d made himself scarce earlier when Mario had made noise about spending time with the kids-the pack’s children, including his own. Because despite being Mario’s Dire and third-in-command after Nathalie, there were a few pack responsibilities he gladly ceded to his leader.  Playing host to a dozen pups practicing shifting back and forth was one of them.

It was already dark by the time he pulled up to the curb, and he deked past the front door and headed to the backyard instead, letting himself through the back gate. He’d all but claimed Mario’s guest house as his own and most of his stuff was still taking up space inside. There wasn’t any point disturbing the family when they’d already eaten and he could scrounge for something in the his kitchenette.

He paused outside the door, nostrils flaring when he picked up Geno’s scent. He let himself in and scanned the front room. A pair of oversized runners sat next to the door and a light spring jacket lay haphazardly across the back of the couch. When he concentrated, he could pick up the sound of Geno’s heartbeat, as familiar to him as his family’s. He followed it through to the bedroom, freezing in the doorway when he saw Geno stretched out on the bed.

Pack members shared space all the time. It soothed the part of them that wanted to be in their wolf skins but couldn’t, reminding them of pack and nights shared under the moon. Most alphas were used to a beta or two crawling into bed with them, though Sid hadn’t ever felt comfortable with it-he’d spent a lot of nights crammed onto couches to escape that particular strand of pack bonding. But it wasn’t common between alphas. There was always the chance that they’d get overly territorial and inadvertently start a fight, instincts clawing past common sense. Geno was encroaching on territory Sid considered his own. He expected a gut feeling of wrongness and waited for the desire to fight. Instead, a satisfied feeling of contentment slid beneath his skin.

He stood staring at Geno until the other wolf rolled onto his side and huffed out a small sigh into one of the pillows bunched up around his head.“Sid, come to bed.”

Sid hesitated for another moment before shucking his pants and tossing his shirt aside. He crawled in beside Geno, but lay perfectly still, unsure what to do with himself. It felt awkward and uneasy, yet he enjoyed the heat radiating off Geno in the few careful inches between them-there was a furnace practically burning beneath Geno’s skin.

How would this even work? Wouldn’t Geno eventually protest? Maybe he’d just come to spend the night near his Ferox and Mario had asked him to stay in the guest house. He was mostly asleep…did he even realize what he’d asked when he’d invited Sid to bed?

Sid inched towards the side of the bed, slow enough to keep from jostling the mattress. If he escaped to the front room, he could crash on the couch and hopefully avoid getting into a fight with the best friend he had.

Geno sighed and rolled over, half-encompassing Sid’s body with his own. Sid took in a deep breath, savouring Geno’s scent for a moment and picking up on a thousand subtleties. Geno’s deodorant and shampoo. His shower gel. Coffee from breakfast-the cheap brand he liked because while Geno was particular about his liquor, he was easy regarding his caffeine. His meals throughout the day. He caught the barest whiff of Mario and Nathalie, because Geno would’ve stopped by the front door to say hello and make sure they were aware of his presence before letting himself into the guest house. And beneath that, the scent of Geno himself, a smell Sid associated with wet limestone, horseradish and newly-resurfaced ice.

Geno allowed Sid to scent him for a moment, his own nose tucked into Sid’s hair, before he manhandled him around into a more comfortable position. Confusion bit at the back of Sid’s mind. He was an alpha-getting shoved around should’ve instinctively made him lash out.

“Sleep, Sid.”

Sid slept.



Sid woke the next morning to the sounds of voices in the front room. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, unsurprised but deeply disappointed to be alone. If he focused, he could still smell Geno in the weave of the bedding, leaving his scent all over Sid’s territory like he had rights to it. And obviously the universe was criminally unfair, because Sid couldn’t even muster up a token protest.

He hauled himself out of bed when the smell of coffee finally beckoned him out to the front of the house. Geno and Mario were both waiting for him in the kitchen, and Geno put a cup of already-doctored coffee in his hands before Sid could so much as say ‘good morning.’ It was painfully domestic, and from the look in Mario’s eyes, he damn well knew it. Still, his face betrayed nothing. He had the same perfect control of his body as Sid’s father-boasted by Feroxes in control of themselves and their territory. Sid sat down across from Mario and respectfully craned his neck to offer the right side. He might be an alpha himself, but Mario was his pack’s Ferox, and as long as Sid chose to be a member of the pack he had to show proper deference.

“Glad you could join us,” Mario said.

Sid resisted the urge to narrow his eyes Mario’s way at the sly insinuation in his tone. “What’s up?”

Mario’s eyes laughed at him. Some hockey players never got over bench jostling. “I got a call this morning. Apparently Amanda Hawthorne scented a foreign wolf in the park near her home. I have a meeting this morning I can’t get out of, and I’d like the two of you to go and check things out.”

Sid and Geno glanced at each other in mild concern. Mario was an established leader, not many strays wandered into their territory unannounced these days. When they did, it usually meant trouble.

Mario’s land rights stretched an almost two hundred mile radius around Pittsburgh, right up to where a smaller pack had control of Harrisburg, the only neutral territory in all of Pennsylvania. Any further east and Caspar took over, and that was a Ferox no one wanted to mess with.

Most Feroxes accommodated situations like Sid’s and the other wolves in the NHL. The rise of the global community meant people traveled farther and farther. For work, for vacations, for family. And while negotiations when entering another pack’s territory were still necessary, many Feroxes considered it to be more of a formality than anything else. Unreasonable demands generally weren’t par for the course anymore. Caspar, however, enjoyed making visitors dance to his tune and ruthlessly punished those who wouldn’t. Sidney couldn’t go anywhere alone in Caspar’s territory; Caspar had been calling for his blood for years.

“If trouble, what you have in mind?” Geno asked.

“I trust your judgment,” Mario said. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? Geno and Sid were the strongest wolves in his pack, besides him and Nathalie. He finished his coffee and stood. “No one’s caused any problems yet, so you’ll have time to go to optional skate this morning. But I’d prefer this be resolved before the end of the day.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Sid promised. Geno seconded the sentiment with a brief nod.

Mario headed back to the house, leaving Sid and Geno alone to cradle their coffee and-in Sid’s case-finish waking up. Mornings weren’t really his thing.

“Game Wednesday,” Geno said after a few moments of silence, punctuating with a sip of coffee.

Sid nodded. “Sharp’s pack. I think we’re invited for dinner when we get in tomorrow night.”

“We go?”

“I’d like to. I haven’t had a chance to catch up with them for a few weeks.”

The Hawks had the biggest number of wolves on their team in the League; if their Ferox didn’t go to such extremes to keep them under control, concealing themselves might’ve become a problem. There’d eventually be one more if Tazer ever got over himself and put his teeth in Kane. Sid wasn’t particularly optimistic; it’d already been a few years and when Tazer dug his heels in, he kept them in. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing; Kane was already a demon on the ice. Sid didn’t want to even imagine what he’d be like with the additional sensory awareness offered by lycanthropy.

Still, they were on good terms with Sharp’s people; that was more he could say about some of the other packs out there.

Geno smiled. “Then we go.”

“And then Friday I think Edmonton is coming here.”

“Hmm. Should invite Nuge for dinner. Poor boy is lonely.”

Sid spent the entire morning waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Geno to say something-anything-about their previous night’s sleeping arrangements. Alphas didn’t invade each other’s spaces like that. Not without violence or repercussions. Not even family played as loosely with personal space, even with a beta or two to act as buffers. He hadn’t shared a bed with his family since he’d turned thirteen and his father had started to look an awful lot like a threat. And while having an omega in the pack sometimes helped, they were few and far between. They tended to make peace when alphas warred for dominance but they weren’t infallible and their quiet reassurances didn’t always work.

Every day since he’d come into his own, his parents had warned him: defer to your Ferox; protect your pack; defend against outsiders; don’t pick fights; respect other alphas, but keep your distance.

Geno had always been an exception. Sid respected him, sure, but even before he’d had a full grasp on English Geno had never kept his distance. He’d been a shadow at Sid’s side. A constant companion combating some of the loneliness Sid had felt since leaving his Cole Harbour. A true friend, when alphas were generally only casual acquaintances at best. But Sid had never felt particularly casual towards the other wolf. He’d always wanted him. Watched him. And the danger of it followed Sid around every waking moment of the day.



Optional skate consisted of Flower shouting abuse at a few of the rookies and Sid half-heartedly chastising him for it. After they showered, Sid and Geno headed out to Schenley Park. It was the biggest green space near Amanda Hawthorne’s home, and the most likely place for a strange wolf to go to ground. Most of the park was intercrossed with hiking trails, picnic areas and various sport areas, but there were a few places to hide.

They pulled into the parking area near the off-leash area and Geno looked at Sid sidelong. “You or me?”

“I’ll do it,” Sid said.

When it came right down to it, Geno could change skins faster than Sid could and if there was a fight, it’d be better for him to jump in instead of being at the mercy of Sid’s longer shift. Geno stepped out of the car to give him the illusion of privacy and Sid crawled over the seats into the back of the car to strip quickly.

The change felt different every time. The smallest things could impact it; whether it was a full moon, what he’d had to eat the day before, if he’d changed more than once in the past week. But the sensation of his bones grinding together as they realigned remained the same, not-entirely-pleasant sensation. His body itched as fur replaced hair. By far the worst was his jaw lengthening and readjusting. He’d never enjoyed that part.

When it was complete, Geno circled the car and let him out the back door.

Sid stepped out and abruptly sat down on the asphalt, fighting the disorientation that followed close on the heels of the change. The world bombarded him with a thousand sensations and smells he overlooked every day, regardless of how keen his senses were when he was in his human skin. He took a second to focus, seeking out something familiar in the maelstrom of noise and scent.

He didn’t realize it was Geno’s heartbeat until he’d shut out everything else and it remained a steady tattoo in his mind.

When he caught his bearings, all it took was a quick scent of the air and he immediately picked up the smell of the strange wolf. Packscent was particular to wolves who belonged together, a comforting smell reminiscent of family and home. Strange wolves always stood out as other. Fortunately, it made them easier to track.

Sidney trotted at Geno’s side, doing his best to look innocent and unassuming-nearly impossible as a two hundred pound timber wolf, even though Taylor said he pulled off domesticated quite well. Geno was big enough to give people a skewed perception, but Sid had freaked out more than one helpless bystander in his time.

Walking next to Geno felt inadequate. He wanted to run and find. Track down the not-pack and route them from his Ferox’s land. He found himself dancing ahead and then falling back to Geno’s side. When Geno continued his more sedate pace, Sid bumped against his side, trying to encourage him to hurry up.

Geno placed a large hand on Sid’s scruff and he calmed. This was good. Geno was good. He could wait for Geno.

A few minutes later-not at all hard to find, the not-pack wolf was obviously terrible at hiding or not bothering to try-Sid stopped next to an oversized dumpster serving one of the picnic areas. The smells of garbage didn’t do much to disguise the other wolf’s smell, and Sid looked to Geno. When his packmate nodded, Sid darted around the back of the bin, nose to the ground.

At the sound of a whimper, Sid reeled recoiled. There was a cub curled up and hiding in the gnarly scrub patted down by the constant movement of the dumpster.

Sid stared.

The cub whined, tucking itself into an even smaller ball as if he could hide now that Sid had found him.

Part of him wanted to circle the dumpster again and appeal to Geno. There wasn’t really enough room for both of them to squeeze around back, and for a selfish moment Sid wanted to head back to the car and make Geno take his place. Sid was terrible with cubs, and this one couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen in his human skin. Hardly old enough to be involved in pack business or hunting. And he certainly didn’t belong to any of his packmates. Where had he come from?

Sid sat down in place, his butt hitting the ground harder than it had to as he tried to decide what the hell he was going to do next.

“Sid?” Geno called. “You find him?”

The pup whined again, louder this time. There was no way Geno could’ve missed it.

Finally, Sid rose and took a few cautious steps forward. He went slowly, ears back and tail down and trying to send out unthreatening vibes. The cub was tiny; Sid had forgotten how little they were when they were pups. There wasn’t exactly a perfect mass-size equivalency between human and wolf skins, but the differences were always especially pronounced in kids. And this cub was teenier than normal. A rounded, wee ball of fur that brought Sid back to when Taylor had been toddled around, trying to figure out walking on two feet and then getting confused all over again by four.

The cub tried to press himself back, deeper into the underbrush. His fur caught on the tangle of branches and he cried, fighting to free himself. He froze when Sid got close enough to scent him. A stranger, yes, but there was something familiar about his smell: lake water and warmed wax. He just couldn’t say what.

He sat down next to the cub and, gently, bit down on the cub’s neck. The kid stilled, waiting. Some survival instincts, then.

Sid lay down and dragged the cub out of the bushes to settle him between his front paws. The cub waited, still, as Sid began roughly licking his head. He was bad at grooming-Taylor always complained when he’d done it to her-but unlike his sister, the cub didn’t whine and twist around. Then again, Sid did outweigh him by a fair margin-it wasn’t like he could really go anywhere.

His efforts didn’t pass along any packscent-which meant he already belonged to a pack, thankfully, even if he couldn’t identify which one by smell alone. The rasp of his tongue across the downy-soft fur was practically meditative. The tension slowly bled away from both of them until the cub rolled over and showed Sid his belly. Sid nudged him back again and herded him to his feet and out from behind the dumpster.

Geno wasn’t looking quite as gobsmacked as Sid felt, probably because he’d heard the cub fussing and had time to prepare himself. He moved past Sid and the cub shrank back, watching Geno with nervous eyes. Geno stepped past them and looked behind the dumpster. A moment later he emerged with a backpack.

“This is all?” Geno asked. The pup didn’t answer, but he nodded anyway. “We go to my house. Call Mario. Then we figure this out, yes?”

He started back towards the car, trusting Sid to follow. He did, pup carefully in tow. Now that they had him, they weren’t going to lose him. Not until they figured out who he was and where he’d come from.



Carson Brière.

Carson. Fucking. Brière.

“Danny’s probably going apeshit,” Sid muttered, his eyes fixed on where Carson had curled up on Geno’s couch, watching television with such rapt attention there was no doubt he was listening to them speak.  “Christ, I can’t even imagine…”

“We need to call him,” Geno said. “Is best thing.”

“And then what? We can’t just take him back to Philadelphia. Caspar’s got a price on my head,” Sid hissed.

“Arrange meeting on neutral ground. Drop him off. Come home.” Geno placed a heavy hand on Sid’s shoulder. “You worry too much.”

“I think in this case I’m worried the perfect amount,” Sid protested. “What if he brings Claude? Or Caspar? We can’t get into a fight, Geno, we have a game tomorrow.”

“Do I get a vote?” They both whipped around to look at the cub. At Carson Fucking Brière. “Because I’d really like a vote.”

Sid resisted the urge to shout. It probably came through all the same, what with how his jaw wouldn’t properly unclench. “You’re an outsider on pack land, kid. No, you don’t get a vote.” Sid took a steadying breath. “Your father is probably going to kill me for waiting this long to call him.”

It had taken them over an hour after getting back to Geno’s to coach the kid back into his human skin. In that time, Geno had rummaged around through the backpack and found a one-way Greyhound ticket, an indecent amount of vending machine crap and what looked like required reading for school, unless Carson was legitimately interested in To Kill A Mockingbird.

“I don’t want you to call him. I don’t want to go home!” Carson shouted.

“Well you can’t stay here!”

Sid really hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but the reality of the situation was starting to set in. Caspar and Mario barely had a truce in place. No wolf from Pittsburgh could set foot in Philadelphia without being hunted down. If it got out that they had one of the Philadelphia pack cubs, it would be tantamount to a declaration of war. And the only war Sid was even remotely interested in was the one for the Cup.

“Sid,” Geno muttered. Anyone who hadn’t known him as long as Sid had would’ve missed the gentle chastisement in his voice. Sid threw up his hands and headed into the kitchen. Let Geno sort it out. Obviously he had some idea of what to do with runaways.

Sid deposited himself at the kitchen island. If he listened in, well, it was only because he wanted to make sure Geno didn’t need a hand. Teenagers-even those who’d barely lost their milk teeth-were a handful.

“Okay, Carson. You talk. I listen.”

There was a hesitant pause, and then, “really?”

The tone was at once both hopeful and defeated; Sid immediately felt guilty. A little resentful, yes. But still guilty. He’d always hated being dismissed when he was Carson’s age, after all.

“Really. Promise.”

It was like a dam had broken. “I found out I’m an omega and Caelan says I’m going to be everyone’s bitch and I’m going to have to give up hockey and Caspar is going to punish Dad and Claude for not telling him and I thought if I came here then I wouldn’t have to do any of that because no one could come get me and force me to go home and I thought I’d just live in the park. Claude said he used to spend his summers as a wolf at Fushimi Lake and I figured it’d be the same thing.” He took a breath-his first one since he’d started speaking. “More or less.”

There was a long silence. “Wow,” Geno finally said. “Many problems.”

Carson coughed, though it sounded closer to a sob. “Yeah.”

Sid tried to relax muscles that had tensed the moment Carson admitted to being an omega. He’d never felt the instant and unavoidable need to protect every omega he came across- there had to be something wrong with him and his instincts-but for a second he had wanted to go to Carson and guard him from the world. From Caspar in particular. The Philadelphia pack didn’t have any omegas to his knowledge; it was part of why they were all such aggressive assholes. Who knew what Caspar would do now he had one under his influence? Little wonder Danny hadn’t told him yet.

“Okay. We go one by one, yes? First, omegas important. Keep peace and balance. Not bitches. No one can tell you to be bitch. And I know omega who plays hockey very, very well.”

Personally, Sid thought Skinner was a brat, but god forbid anyone say as much in front of one of the Staals, the hyper-protective weirdoes. Especially Eric.

“-and if your dad has not told Caspar yet, he has his reasons. You must trust he will do what’s best for you. And you must do what’s best for you also. No living behind dumpster, yes?”

“It wasn’t very comfortable,” Carson admitted.

“And smelly,” Geno said. “You maybe go shower and Sid call your father. He worries, this I know.”

A few minutes later, the sound of the shower springing to life echoed from upstairs and Geno rejoined him in the kitchen.

“He didn’t really smell,” Sid said with a laugh.

“He smelled like you. Would not go over well, when he is home.”

That was certainly true. “He wasn’t wrong, you know. If he’s really an omega, Caspar won’t let him play hockey. He probably won’t even let him leave the city again.”

“Ferox come and go, Sid. Bad ones the most. And Giroux nipping at Caspar’s heels. Won’t be long.”

Sid’s nose wrinkled. “Not sure how much better that would be.”

“At least Giroux respect hockey.”

William Caspar was a bully. Sid knew men like him on the ice and off; men who thought that because they were big and powerful they could treat those around them as disposable. He wasn’t a hockey player, but he lorded his power over the wolves who needed to enter his territory for games like a medieval king. And when they didn’t pay correct respects… it got unpleasant. And, yeah, despite his personal feelings about Claude Giroux, he wouldn’t be as unreasonable as Caspar was when it came to wolves entering his territory.

Sid grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He didn’t have Brière’s number on hand, but certainly Sharp would. Chicago’s Ferox knew everyone.

A couple of text messages later, he waited for Brière to pick up, dodging around Geno as the other wolf gathered up what he needed for a few sandwiches for the road.

Brière sounded panicked when he finally answered. “Carson?”

“Danny, this is Sid Crosby-”

“I don’t have time for this,” Danny snapped.

“Carson’s here.”

Danny was silent for a moment, and then a growl ripped itself out of him. Sid’s own eyes shifted to an angry yellow in response. “You son of a-”

“Calm down. He ran away. We found him. We’re planning to return him.” Short, to the point statements. It cut through what Sid could only imagine was a blinding combination of terror and rage. “We can meet you in Harrisburg in a few hours.” Sid winced. It was six hours there and back if they drove conservatively. Good thing their next game wasn’t until Wednesday.

“I-” Danny took a breath. “Thank you.” There was a lot of weight behind those words.

Sid shifted uncomfortably, pathetically grateful when Carson rejoined them, still toweling off his hair. He thrust the phone in the cub’s direction. Carson leveled him with a peeved look Sid knew he’d seen Brière shoot him on the ice, but took it anyway.

“Hey, Dad…”

He wandered out of the kitchen and Sid winced in sympathy when he heard Danny start to shout.

“I hope he doesn’t bring Giroux with him,” Sid said quietly.

Geno cocked an eyebrow. “Is neutral territory. No fighting.”

“I’ll try, but that smug asshole brings out the worst in me.”

“Maybe you wait in car?”

Sid pursed his lips in annoyance and Geno laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. Like he’d ever let Geno face another wolf on his own, let alone two. Neutral territory or not.



Although Carson had talked their ears off for most of the drive, he got quiet as soon as they passed into the Harrisburg pack’s territory. The feeling of being on another pack’s land without seeing the Ferox sat like a sour aftertaste on Sid’s tongue, and he found himself straightening in his seat. Harrisburg’s Ferox was a reasonable woman. Didn’t ask for more than a brief acknowledgment when foreign wolves came and went through her territory-Sid had already called her from the road. Sandwiched between the two state powerhouses must’ve made maintaining neutrality a pain in the ass, but she’d been doing it for years.

Geno pulled up into one of the parking lots dotting Reservoir Park. The area was firmly in the center of the territory, and though the local Ferox had offered to supervise the meeting, Sid had declined. If Brière tried anything, he’d be breaking neutrality laws, and it would be within Sid’s rights to kick his ass all the way back to Philly. There was a certain amount of satisfaction in the idea.

There was only one other car in the lot, and before Geno even rolled to a stop, Brière had jumped out and started running towards them. Carson fidgeted in the seat behind them and Geno looked at him in the rear view mirror.

“Remember what I say,” he admonished.

Carson nodded. “I will. Thanks.” He climbed out of the car, but barely made it more than a few feet before he was swept up in Brière’s arms.

Sid gave them a sec and then slipped out, Geno close behind him. He didn’t see Giroux anywhere, even though his scent tangled up tight with Danny’s. It put him a little more at ease. He and Geno were more than capable of taking out a single beta if they needed to.

Brière’s voice grew steadily in volume, even though he was obviously more relieved than he was angry. For now, anyway. “…could have been hurt. Do you have any idea how worried we were? You are so lucky Claude is visiting his family, because I swear-”

“Are you going to tell him?” Carson asked quietly.

“Am I-of course I’m going to tell him! Claude is a part of this family, and if you think-”

“No, Dad, I meant… are you going to tell Caspar? About me?”

Brière quieted, his face drawing in grave thought. “Is that what this was about?” He sighed and pulled Carson into a tight embrace, kissing his forehead. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Carson frowned, but nodded.

Finally, Brière looked to Sid and Geno, though his arm stayed firmly around his son. Geno offered him Carson’s backpack, which Brière took with a wan smile.

“I-” He looked back and forth between Geno and Sid. “Thank you again. I won’t forget this.”

Sid nodded awkwardly. What was he supposed to say to that? It wasn’t like they were going to keep the kid or anything.

Brière chuckled, and Sid privately cursed when he realized he’d said as much out loud.

“We play next week, don’t we?” Brière asked. Sid nodded. “I… From now on, Crosby, you won’t have anything to worry about from me. Or Claude.”

Sid’s eyebrow twitched upwards in surprise. “Will your Ferox appreciate that?”

“Caspar doesn’t appreciate anything, really. But regardless.” He paused. “Thank you.”

Brière kept a hand on Carson as he steered him back to the other car. Geno and Sid watched silently until they’d pulled out of the parking lot and back in the direction of the highway.

“Good kid,” Geno finally announced. He poked Sid’s side and rounded the car to the driver’s door.

Sid nodded to himself and climbed back into the car. “Too bad he takes after his dad.”

The drive back to Pittsburgh was filled with comfortable silence, occasional fiddling with the radio and speculating about the season. It was almost two in the morning by the time they pulled back into city limits, and instead of taking the turn off to Mario’s, Geno drove straight towards his place.

He didn’t look in Sid’s direction, though he tilted his chin towards his front door. “Stay. Is late.”

It was on the tip of Sid’s tongue to protest, but when he looked Geno’s way he couldn’t find it in him to do much more than nod. He trailed after Geno into the house, pausing when the other wolf headed towards his bedroom. Eventually, his instincts would ping with the fact that Geno was another alpha, not a beta, omega or even a human. Not someone he could be with.

Maybe he could enjoy this closeness until then, though.

He took the left side of the bed, putting his body between Geno and the door. Geno chuckled in amusement and stretched out an arm. Sid tucked himself against Geno’s body, relishing the warmth.

“Sid?”

“Yeah?”

Geno took a steadying breath. “You want me to call some betas? Make you more comfortable?”

It was on the tip of Sid’s tongue to dismiss the offer immediately, but he paused. Would it make him more comfortable? It never had before. Being around anyone he didn’t know particularly well keyed him up beyond help, and the idea of sharing Geno with a random beta from their pack made his teeth grit.

“Do,” he coughed, “do you want to?”

“No.”

Sid’s chest tightened. “Good.”

Geno slipped his arm beneath Sid’s neck and pulled him closer. Sid listened to Geno’s heartbeat as it gradually slowed. Geno took calming breaths in and out-so deliberate that Sid found himself echoing the rhythm. He blinked heavily a few times, sleep tugging at him until, finally, Geno’s warmth and lulling calm coaxed him back to sleep.