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Chapter Text

Bennett smells him before he sees him.

First thing that hits him is that this kid is another wolf, a boy, someone dominant enough that it makes his knees weak with the immediate instinct to submit. He hasn't felt something like that since he was seven and their current alpha came into power. Immediately after he smells a mixture of air after a rain, his mother's dorayaki, thick cedar like those that grow in their woods, his family's laundry detergent, and ocean salt. At the time the whole thing is so heady that he can't separate it, just something that makes his wolf jump to the forefront thinking good yes want. Oddly enough, the scent both calms and excites him; it feels like coming home at the same time that his wolf is straining on a metaphorical leash for it. His blood rushes beneath his skin, and as he instinctively takes another deep breath to get the scent, a spike of arousal shoots through his body.

Which is pretty goddamn uncalled for, if you ask him.

Meanwhile, none of his friends have noticed any of this, still caught up in their various conversations. Bennett's thankful for it, at the same time that he's eyeing them critically, because seriously, how could you not notice that.

Bennett sort of wishes he could inwardly glare at his wolf, because while all his other friends have been running around and hooking up, talking about how sometimes instincts run high or a person's smell can make you want them, Bennett's never experienced it. He's never questioned it; he merely thought he was in better control of his instincts.

Apparently he's just a freak.

He hears footsteps that move away from the general flow of students, straight toward their group. Bennett's curious, about to turn around, before the scent strengthens and he realizes it's coming from the same person as the footsteps. His shoulders tighten, pulled close and taught in the same way cloth tightens by a drawstring.

"Hello?" he hears behind him.

His friends all around him turn to the voice, startled. It's not easy to sneak up on a group of werewolves, and it's obvious no one else had noticed the newcomer. Warily, Bennett turns around, facing the scent head on.

He gets a smack in the face of the smell, nearly whimpers and drops to his knees, conflicted with instincts between going belly up in submission or ripping clothes off with his teeth. He has to screw his eyes tight, breathe steady for a few seconds to get used to it and get himself under control. Then he opens his eyes to see the other wolf.

The guy is blond, blue-eyed and practically the perfect vision of a California surfer, if he were in board shorts instead of ripped jeans and a hoodie. He's taller than Bennett, but that isn't saying much considering Bennett's about even with most of the girls.

And he's looking directly at Bennett.

There's a little curl at the side of his mouth, something smug. His eyes are practically twinkling, and he looks so pleased with himself that Bennett knows that no matter how much this guy's senses picked up, it's too much. Bennett wants to punch in his smug mouth; his wolf wants to bite and lick at it.

The whole thing is fucking annoying.

"Who are you?" Jasmine asks. She has her arms crossed, hip cocked as she stares this new boy down, one eyebrow ticked up in question. There's no way she's unaware of the dominance he's giving off, but it doesn't surprise Bennett that she's ignoring it. Bridget, on the other hand, is practically cowering back against the lockers.

He tears his eyes off of Bennett to look at Jasmine. "I'm Austin. My family just moved into this area; Colby welcomed us into his pack. He told me to introduce myself to all of you this morning."

Bennett seizes up with sudden realization. There's no firmer stake on territory and standing among the other packs than having a strong alpha, and the strongest ones are the rare ones made for the positions by naturally being born with unusually high dominance, like drawing a jackpot from the wolf hierarchy lottery. Bennett's by no means low, he's set around beta level which is fairly typical, but he'd had a predilection for leadership and clear thinking that had had Colby choose him to be trained as his successor.

He was supposed to be Alpha. And he knows he won't be now.

No one else seems to realize this yet, but it isn't their futures that are being overturned, so Bennett doesn't really blame them for it. Instead, Jasmine just tilts her head. "Nice to meet you. My name's Jasmine."

And that's it. The rest of the pack relaxes slightly at Jasmine's green light. It's like Bennett isn't even there.

Austin looks around at all of them. "And the rest of you?"

They all introduce themselves one by one, Bridget practically tripping over her words until Alison places a hand on the small of her back to brace her, and then she gets through it. They get to Bennett last.

Austin looks at him, eyes drilling through him, and then tilts his head and says, "And you, Princess?"

Bennett grits his teeth and glares. "My name is Bennett."

Austin hums. "I like it."

Bennett huffs and turns away.

All of his friends are staring at him, surprised that he's acting so unusual. Bennett's always the friendly one, the leader, the role model. He can feel their stares on his back, can hear in the silence tuned to him that they're curious.

He ignores it, and tries to ignore that Austin sits behind him in his first period class, his scent snaking over Bennett's shoulder like a bait to his wolf.

When he gets home, he dumps his books in his room and then goes to grab the sweatshirt he wears for running.

His mother looks up as he comes down the stairs and passes her in the kitchen. "Where are you going?"

"Run," he says shortly. He feels irritable and short, and it doesn't help that his wolf seems to be running itself wild inside his head, shooting him up with restlessness.

"Oh," his mother responds, blinking. "Alright. Will you be back for dinner?"

Bennett shrugs, and leans down as he puts on his running shoes. He doesn't bother to say goodbye before he leaves. His mother, native to Japan before she moved to America in her twenties, is also a shifter. However, as most legends coincide to the area they're from, she's a Kappa, a type of water shifter. He know she hasn't shifted in years, doesn't know if she misses it or the ocean, and he's never asked. He wonders if being unattached to the pull of the moon makes her urges different; if she's less wild, in a way. He thinks she might have been disappointed when he was born a wolf like his father instead of being like her, but they haven't talked about it. She doesn't seem to know what to do with a shifter child that isn't like her, usually lets him go and do what he pleases and ignores the full moon altogether.

Normally he takes transit closer to the edge of town, to the quieter, wilder woods, or, if he's in a better mood or it's further from the full moon, he'll run at the track the city gym houses. He briefly considers it, but it doesn't take long for him to evaluate that he doesn't have the patience for it today. He snakes through the neighbourhood until he gets to the edge of it, to the first hint of trees, only makes it in as far as he can't be seen from before he takes off at a dead run.

Bennett tries to play nice with Austin, but he can't stand him, can't stomach his smug attitude or that he seems to send his wolf out of control, even seems to notice what he's doing to Bennett's instincts and relishes it. He feels like he's constantly at the edge of his breaking point, snapping at Austin using his words and wishing he could do it with his teeth. Bennett always been relatively more human than most of the other pack when away from a full moon, but Austin brings the beast in him to the surface.

He waits restlessly for the full moon, not entirely sure what he's anticipating.

He catches a ride out with Bridget and her older brother Daniel, unable to drive himself and living close enough to them that it's not a huge inconvenience to circle around and pick him up on the occasional moon. Bridget, seated in the passenger seat, makes conversation with her brother while leaving Bennett alone. Being better at picking up people's emotions than most of their other friends, she seems to sense that Bennett would rather be left alone right now.

"We're here, kids," Daniel says, getting out of the car without waiting for Bridget or Bennett, going over to find some of the other pack members closer to his age.

Instead of getting out, Bridget turns around to look at Bennett. "You okay?"

Bennett rolls one shoulder, looking up through the sunroof at the moon barely concealed by cloud cover. "Just more restless than usual."

"Alright," Bridget concedes, and Bennett listens to the opening and closing of her car door before he gets out himself.

There's some waiting around and mingling for a while before the silent cue of an approaching shift washes over the crowd. Colby steps forward, eyes on the sky. When he lowers them to look at the rest of the crowd gathered, his eyes flash amber for a moment. "It's almost here."

Everyone starts to strip, some quiet and isolated while others chat amiably, unbothered by nudity. Bridget, whether by her lower rank or by her nature, is shy enough that she hops back into the car to change. Bennett isn't bothered by it, but he doesn't particularly like the idea of showing off, so he grabs his drawstring bag from the car before Bridget gets in and strips behind the car. He dumps his clothes in the bag, draws it shut, and knocks on the car window before opening the door and throwing his bag in without looking, closely it quickly after.

Staring up at the sky, he feels a tension enter his body, some feeling of expectation, of waiting for something, though he isn't aware of what. He's never felt this way before the shift; usually is strung tight like a bowstring waiting to fire without being aware of anything but soon soon run moon wolf soon.

Bridget hops out, and Bennett doesn't glance back at her as she rounds the car to hide behind it until the change comes. He gives a cursory glance around, seeing that everyone is prepared, a good number of the adults stretching languidly while supplying easy small talk. They're all just killing time until the moon reaches it's needed height, and the wolf takes over.

It doesn't take long.

Bennett feels it in his skin first, a prickling akin to feeling like you're being watched, his instincts and awareness heightening, until he feels like he can feel the forest breathe. He senses kick up next, his hearing and smell kicking into high gear, which says a lot since they're already far above that of the average human.

The physical changes come next.

Bennett thinks some part of his brain probably changes at this moment, or possibly it's just that his whole head changes shape, because he's never able to pin the shift into any sort of traceable order, it all sort of blurs together into shifting bone and sprouting skin and his body growing and shortening in different places. The humans brought into packs expect the shift to hurt, but it never does, it's just being different. The wolf is a part of you, always there, it only comes out strongest on the moon.

Shaking out his fur, feeling the thick of his hide ripple down his body at the motion, he revels in the power of this form. When it's not the moon, he tries to pretend he doesn't love being the wolf, that he doesn't like this part of himself, but he can't deny it now when his instincts are strongest. Vaguely, he's aware of Bridget coming up on his left side, he turns to her and butts his nose against her muzzle affectionately, and she licks his ear back. He friends joke that he's more touchy when he's a wolf than he is the entirety of the rest of the month combined, but he ignores it.

Colby lets out a howl then, a cry to the moon like paying it reverence, and the pack approaches before he turns and takes off into the woods, the rest of the wolves following after him and fanning out by rank.

Young as they are and not entirely sorted into specific places in pack structure yet, most of the group of Bennett and his friends ends up running somewhere around the middle.

Another wolf lopes into the muddle of them, and he gives off such an aura of dominance and power that all of them shrink away involuntarily. Bennett gets hit with his scent after a second, want coursing through him sharp and heady, and he whimpers as he slows down and lowers his body closer to the ground, submissive and still feeling his instincts going haywire.

The other wolf slows shortly after him, and the pack flows around them until they're at the back. The more dominant one stops, and without thinking Bennett does too, trotting back over to him and whimpering as he goes straight onto his stomach and crawls towards him. He's beautiful, all silky cream coloured fur and a powerful body made for taking down prey in a way Bennett's lean body isn't. Bennett knows that he's faster, that he could outrun this wolf without thinking, but that the wolf could take him down in a second if he wanted to, could pin Bennett while barely trying.

The lighter wolf lets out a pleased rumble and surprises Bennett by lowering down slightly to lick at the side of his face. The lowered posture, the licking - while the other wolf is still in the more dominant position, his behaviour is giving away ground to Bennett, willing to submit himself.

The realization that a more dominant wolf is giving himself up strikes through Bennett, as rapid and strong as lightning, and he wants.

He raises himself up, and when the other wolf doesn't make any move to stop him or chastise him for it, he moves closer and presses himself against the wolf, whining at the feel of his soft fur.

The wolf, contrary to pushing Bennett away, seems to enjoy it as well. He lets out a pleased whuff of air, nuzzles his snout into Bennett's flank and then breathes him in. Bennett, practically shaking at the attention, does the same, breathes in the scent that has him mesmerized.

And, with a strike of clarity, suddenly recognizes it.

Austin.

He pulls away sharply, backing off as quickly as he can, and when Austin turns around in confusion and takes a step towards him, Bennett bares his teeth and growls in warning.

Austin's posture turns defensive, but not in the way Bennett would expect of a wolf guaranteed to be an Alpha someday, but in the way of a wolf of lower rank. He lowers his body slightly, tucks his tail down and flattens his ears. He's deferring to Bennett, and for a moment Bennett wants so strongly that he nearly leaps onto Austin, before he gets control of himself.

He doesn't care that Austin's acting submissive for some reason unknown and unfathomable to Bennett, he just hates him. He wants him out of his space; he wants him to stop taking even more control away from Bennett than what he already loses during the full moon. With Bennett's sense of smell stronger in this form than it is when he's human, he'd been overwhelmed, but he knows now and he's in control.

It won't happen again.

Austin watches him, some sort of expectation in his eyes, like he's just waiting Bennett out. It makes Bennett's anger kick up into rage, and he snaps at Austin once before taking off passed him after the rest of the pack.

They don't talk about it.

Austin looks a little hesitant when he approaches the group of them the day after the moon, and the rest seem quick to reassure Austin that he was fine, that he did well in a new pack, as though that's the reason for his nervousness. Maybe it is, Bennett's not about to speak for him.

Austin catches his arm when Bennett goes to walk away, mouth opening, but Bennett shoots him such a scathing look that Austin closes it without comment. He wrenches out of his grip and walks away, and they don't talk about it.

Bennett gets called to Colby's house a few days later, and he's not surprised in the least. He knew it was coming.

He goes by himself, knocks on the door and lets himself in after Colby yells that it's open. As soon as he enters the house he can smell Austin, had been expecting him to be there, but his scent is everywhere, trailing down the hall and into the kitchen and living room, over useless things like the picture frame on the wall and some of the cups in the sink. He's at the front of the house, and he can smell it from here, even with the overwhelming chunk of Austin in the sitting room, where Bennett knows he is physically. He wonders if Austin's scent would be this particular among the others anywhere they went, or if it sticks out more here at their pack leader's base, the scent of a foreign potential alpha smeared everywhere.

He goes into the sitting room, the general living room Colby holds pack members in instead of the more personalized and relaxed one, spots Austin on the couch the second he enters and Colby in the armchair no one else would dare touch.

"Take a seat," Colby says, and Bennett wants to sit himself clear on the other side of the room, but he knows that they're both about to be addressed, and what that request means. He settles on the same couch as Austin, on the other end, a cushion of space as a separator.

Colby looks up then, eyes them both for a moment. "I'm here to talk to you both about something."

Bennett crosses his legs, affecting an air of calmness. "About how you're switching the alpha succession?"

Colby looks at him in surprise.

Bennett lets out a wry smile. "Wasn't hard to guess."

Colby watches him appraisingly. "I was expecting you to be upset, not to already know. How?"

Bennett shrugs a shoulder, uncomfortable. "He practically radiates dominance."

Austin lets out a huff of a laugh, seeming pleased, and Bennett shoots him an angry look. He had meant it as a statement, not as praise.

Colby's still watching him, the scrutiny a little unsettling. Bennett has to fight not to shift around in his seat. "I'm surprised you picked up on that so easily. You're still relatively young."

Bennett frowns. "It seems like it'd be hard not to."

"Usually wolves don't pick up a heightened sense of dominance until later. Both of you are still mostly developing."

Bennett frowns. He hates it when the adult wolves talk like that, like his judgement is impaired by his age. He's not sure if they only mean it in the sense that their instincts aren't as reliable, or if they believe that in general.

"Well, I figured this was a conversation better had in person, but you seem to be well ahead of the curve on that one," Colby says, frowning. He looks a little contemplative, like he's setting a new revelation into the set of data he already has and is closer to arranging a full picture, and it makes Bennett uncomfortable to be turned into a puzzle instead of a person.

"Can I go then?" Bennett asks, moving to perch on the end of his seat.

Colby holds up a hand. "Not yet."

Bennett pauses, waiting, but he doesn't relax. He eyes Colby, and when his alpha realizes he's not going moving back, his mouth creases, but he doesn't comment on it.

"I'm still considering some lessons with you," Colby tells him, like a punch to the gut. "You're an exceptional wolf and the best possible choice for a beta, and I'd like to prepare you for that if possible. I'd also like to bring you in for some of Austin's alpha sessions; you've been in preparation for a long time and could be a large help, if only because you're ahead of him but in the same age group."

Like Bennett needs to be reminded of all the time and effort he put into this. "Yes, alpha," he says, stilted, the words caught between tight teeth, the title used as a jab at Colby after having spent enough individual sessions to be one of the only kids in their pack to easily call him by his first name.

Colby looks a little pained, so Bennett thinks he hit his mark. A little bit of guilt sits sour in his stomach, but he locks his jaw and swallows it, not willing to concede to an apology for hurting Colby when his entire life got turned on its head. Logically, he knows this is a better choice, maybe not for him but for the pack as a whole. Young potential alphas have trouble keeping a pack because of the fear of a coup over the current alpha, but if you can take one into training that you trust to wait for proper succession, then they're your best bet at keeping a strong pack. Bennett knows this in his head; it's his heart and body that are having a harder time with acceptance.

"That wasn't an order, Bennett," Colby says, quiet. Bennett drops his eyes. Colby sighs. "Let me know. You can go."

Bennett gets up, doesn't look at either of the other wolves, technically a submissive gesture, though it really comes from an inability to bear to see what lies on written on their faces.

Bennett gets subjected to a lot more of Austin than he'd prefer.

He's everywhere, and Bennett supposes that a part of that is being pack, but most of the group genuinely seems to like him. He's joking and outgoing and nearly magnetizing, pulling everyone in around him, and Bennett feels like he's left stalling around the edges.

Austin's a natural leader, and it sticks in Bennett's teeth, catches in his chest, because it's one thing to be shuffled aside for propriety's sake and another thing entirely to be shunted away because he's unwanted.

And the worst part is that Bennett can't blame Austin for acting this way, can't blame him for Bennett being petty, because he's just acting like himself. There's no effort there to do this to Bennett, and yet he still is, and that sticks even more.

Bennett hates him, but his wolf still strains for him, a weak yearning inside him whenever his wolf catches onto Austin's smell before Bennett consciously can. He's not used to being at odds with his wolf; usually they're one in the same, the same feelings and actions in their tamed and raw forms. In the rarer cases where his wolf feels something different than he does, he trusts it, believes in its higher instincts and sense for things that operate on a level higher than Bennett can make sense of with more than his gut. This is the first time he's actively rebelled against his wolf, aside from the occasional out of place instinct that wouldn't be appropriate, but those are small pulls easy to resist. It's one thing to keep from sniffing his friends to check them when they've been away for a while, and another entirely for his wolf to want so completely for one thing, one person.

It's not good for him to reject his wolf like this, he knows it makes shifts easier and living as they are easier if he accepts what his wolf tells him, and in theory he wants to, but in this situation he has to hold back, because he doesn't know what exactly the alternative leads to but it frightens him.

It's making him feel vaguely sick, out of odds with himself, out of his skin, but he honestly can't align with his wolf on this. His wolf works on what it feels, primal drives, and usually Bennett can work with that even when he lives in such a civilized way, but this time he just knows that his wolf doesn't take feelings into account, doesn't take words said and actions taken, is instinct multiplied. It doesn't understand, and it frustrates Bennett that he can't reach out to it and say but you don't know him, you wouldn't feel this if you did. There is no logic to the beast under his skin, and it's warring with the more human part of him that coexists, entwined. He feels like he's being torn in two.

And maybe he could be doing better with the whole thing, but he feels split from his own pack, and none of them have even noticed. It's petty to hide in a corner and wait to be found, but he can't will out the courage to tell them how he feels upset about a decision that he understands the reasons for.

"How cool would it be to be alpha, though?" Alison says, excited, a little hushed. The school is a mixture of human and wolf, and so while they do discuss the pack on a regular basis, there's an aspect of secrecy to it. "Not even for being in charge or all of those things, but just to be able to shift whenever you want. I'm so used to being tugged into the shift by the moon that I wonder what it would feel like to shift voluntarily, or how you'd even manage it."

Bridget shivers a little. "I already don't like the uncontrollable aspect to the shift. I can't imagine having that hanging over my head all the time."

"No, but that's the point! You'd be in control all the time, it would be your choice."

Bridget laughs a little. "I think I'll leave it to Ben."

Ben smiles slightly, but it's fake, twisting at the edges like broken glass, jagged and breaking against his skin. "I won't be much help, considering that I'll never know either."

The entire pack turns to stare at him.

"What?" Luc says, eyes wide.

"You didn't tell them?" Austin asks, hushed, eyes fixed on Bennett.

"Tell us what?" Jasmine snaps, voice flinted.

Austin's eyes flicker to her. "Colby replaced me as his successor."

The group of them is silent. Surprise seems to be the main emotion, the degree of it ranging from face to face, though Jasmine's got a healthy dose of anger mixed in, catching her by the jaw and locking her teeth together.

"You're joking," Bridget says, soft. She sounds a little resigned, believing it but wishing she didn't.

Austin raises one shoulder before it drops. "No. It's been a week or so."

"Why would he do that?" Jasmine says, but she says it more like a general question, someone asking after an injustice that can't be explained away by logic.

"He's the more dominant one, surely you've noticed that," Bennett tells her. He stares her down, willing her to keep her head. It's a dominant gesture, one he technically shouldn't be using in the mishmash of their undefined not quite yet pack status, but he doesn't think she'll listen any other way.

"That doesn't say shit about leadership," she bites back.

Bennett doesn't waver. "Are you telling me you don't respect Colby's judgement?"

It's a dirty trick, and Jasmine knows it, her jaw clenching even tighter as she goes silent, the rest of the group lulled into a dip of the same as they wait to see if Jasmine will respond. To go against his decision after Bennett's directly insinuated that doing so is going against the alpha would put Jasmine as a traitor, as against the pack, and she may be mouthy, but Bennett knows as well as she does that she has no desire to run as a lone wolf.

Jasmine turns to Austin, eyes glinting like razors. "You better prove yourself," she says, before she turns and stalks away with ground eating strides.

"Suppose I have expectations to live up to," Austin murmurs to himself, eyes flickering to look at Bennett for just the barest fraction of a second, so quick that Bennett could almost think he imagined it, if it weren't for his wolf coming alive inside him.

Bennett gets requested to come to the next alpha training meeting, and he knows that Colby genuinely means it as an invitation and not a demand, but he goes anyway. He may not be the next alpha any more, but that doesn't mean he has to give up everything, that what his alpha thinks no longer matters. He wants to prove that even if they're going by stronger claims of leadership, the ones the wolves within recognize and can't be denied, he wants Colby to think that he wasn't wrong to choose him in the first place. He wants to prove that if Austin hadn't ever been here, he would have deserved it.

So he goes.

He knocks in the rhythm he and Colby established early into their sessions to let him know it's him, lets himself in. The alpha's house is always unlocked in case of emergencies, and no one in the pack would dare breach that for unjust reasons. Besides, when you have a wolf pack at your back and a nose that can track down anything that goes missing, robbery isn't as much of a problem, even when you're not home.

"Ben," he hears from deeper in the house when the door clicks softly shut behind him. He should learn not to underestimate werewolf hearing.

"Austin," he replies, even, tries to keep back the tiredness at so much as the thought of him out of his voice.

Austin's sitting in the more formal living room when Bennett follows the smell of him through the house. (He's all over the place, even more so than the last time Bennett was here. His scent's overlapping in layers over layers of itself, older and newer piling over themselves, and it's overwhelming. He can acutely tell the difference between the brand new fresh trails, the few days old ones, and the ones from the meeting Bennett got called in to have his succession revoked. He's never been this aware before, and it alarms him. His wolf is in high drive, and it wants to soak itself in the scent, the primal urge to mix them bleeding over into Bennett's veins, making him want to rub himself over all of the surrounding furniture, getting his scent where Austin's lays and getting Austin's scent on him in turn.

He ignores it.)

"I'm glad you showed up, Bennett," Colby's voice says from behind him. Austin jumps minutely, but Bennett doesn't startle, used to the way alphas can mask themselves. He wonders if Colby was already there, waiting to watch their exchange of greetings.

"Thank you for having me," Bennett tells him, turning and accepting a mug of hot chocolate from the tray Colby brought in. One small thing that was okay with being a werewolf was that the adverse reaction didn't carry over to them, though that was probably just a measure of the change in mass. Hard to have a gram of chocolate affect a grown man the way it did it a toy poodle.

Colby's mouth twitches at the corner, nearly a smile. "My pleasure. Please, sit."

It's not a request. Bennett carefully walks over and sits on the couch with Austin, again as distanced as he can be. He cradles his mug in his hands, spinning it slowly to give him something to do.

He looks up when there's nothing forthcoming from Colby. "Are you going to jump in so that I can help, or are you just expecting me to read minds?"

Colby rolls his eyes. "I forgot how snarky you can get when you're annoyed," Colby says, and Bennett would be irritated and insulted, already bristling, but Colby strides to the mantle over the fireplace, lined with thick tomes, and pulls out one with a thick green cover. "You have a talent for the politics of pack business, which seems to be Austin's weak spot. He excels with the instinctual, but struggles a little with some of the logistics of it." He looks up then, eyes pinning Bennett. "You're opposites in your strengths. I figured you can both learn from each other."

Bennett's tensed up and frozen into it, a coil left in the cold to stiffen into shape. "Right."

"Well of course we cover mine first, since I'll be alpha," Austin says, voice so casual and the statement so easy that Bennett wants to hit him.

Colby sighs. "Let's get started." His voice bears the weight of belief that it'll be a long night. He isn't far off.

Bennett doesn't go to all of the meetings, but he goes to enough to know that he and Austin balance each other in all their strengths and weaknesses, and grate in all the ways their personalities don't. Colby looks tired, but he keeps inviting Bennett for reasons Bennett can't grasp. Maybe it's pity, after dropping the boy he's spent the last half a decade promising his position to. Bennett hates that, hates that he gets this as a consolation prize, especially since it's a shitty one, but at this point when he's sitting on the edges of his friends and aching with what he wasn't aware he had, he'll take what he can get.

Bennett's struggling with helping Austin along with all the details of pack leadership, the rules and customs and laws, the concrete, but Austin seems to be refusing to learn. He's used to cruising by instinct, led along by his wolf, and has picked up the habit of getting distracted halfway through what Bennett's saying to him.

The sessions where they work on instincts and Austin gets the chance to coach him are rarer, too busy spending time playing catch-up preparing Austin to be able to spare much time on the things he doesn't need to work on, but it quickly becomes apparent in the few opportunities they have that Austin's instincts are far ahead of Bennett's, coming mostly without effort. He tries to teach Bennett, but most of the explanations go over his head, a litany of "you just have to feel it," until the phrase has lost all meaning, leaving Bennett frustrated and red-faced and sometimes even with tightly clenched fists. Austin can't teach Bennett to feel something that he's always known: it's like trying to teach a chicken not to birth from an egg, like trying to explain the taste of a food to someone who's never eaten it.

Bennett's not much help to Austin, but there's still potential to learn, should he be willing. Bennett knows he wouldn't make much of an alpha if he can't train his instincts more sharply, ending up with the ends of it trailing behind him like loose shoelaces he's trying not to trip over.

Austin's by far the better choice, and he doesn't even want it half as much as Bennett.

Bennett's wolf is still straining by the next moon.

He can feel the push of it under his skin, fighting with him, and he's heard other wolves describe the restlessness before, the feeling of their animal bursting for freedom closer to the moon, but he's never experienced it. He always thought it was an exaggeration, maybe a symptom of those at lower ranks or with less control.

Now he can feel the beast raging within in, snapping and snarling and pacing restless, and it makes Bennett irritable, knowing his wolf needs the space but having no way to give it. As the moon waxes, the crescent filling, the feeling grows. It starts early, the sharp slice of the moon yet to fatten sitting razor-edged in the sky, curling in to pinch together and grasp Bennett with the edges. He's never felt so out of control, so ruled by his wolf, and he doesn't like it.

He turns down Cooper's offer to catch a ride down with him and his older sister to the woods, heads out early so he can work some of the tension out of his body. He's never felt the need for anything more than their nightly run, but tonight it's not enough, feeling like his nerves are fuses running out as they're being lit.

He walks the whole way there, getting twitchier the closer the sun gets to the horizon, and he runs himself the last chunk of the distance, stretches out in the empty parking lot and tries to calm himself. He still feels strung tight, and the feeling isn't loosening at all, instead it's pulling him taught.

Colby pulls up first, blinking at Bennett when he steps down from his pick-up truck. He wanders over slowly, hands tucked in his pockets as he watches Bennett.

Bennett continues to stretch, waiting.

"What're you doing, kid?"

Bennett looks up as he leans over his left leg, catching his foot with both hands and feeling the muscle pull. He raises one eyebrow. "Stretching."

Colby's face flattens out. "I can see that."

"Don't know why you asked then."

"I meant why are you here already?" Colby asks, and it's mostly casual, but Bennett's been around his alpha enough to be able to recognize the subtle current of compulsion and command underneath the words.

Bennett mouths tightens, and he switches to stretch out the other leg. "Restless," he admits, terse, ashamed of his weakness. His wolf thrashes inside him, the moon so close, the sun hovering in a softening glow over the horizon, and he's caged caged caged needing to break free.

Colby frowns, squats down with his elbows propped on his knees to look at Bennett, and Bennett pauses in surprise, staring at him.

He has never once seen Colby lower himself to another wolf's level, unless it's to sit in his own living room, on his specific territory. He's the alpha, so he carefully monitors his body language to radiate control, and Bennett can't believe that Colby's nearly on the ground with him. Bennett quits stretching, pulls his legs up and tucks them under his chin, arms hanging loose around his knees, looks at Colby over them.

"Bennett," Colby says, gentle. "Are you alright?"

Bennett can feel himself tensing. "Fine."

Colby doesn't look convinced. "If it's your wolf, if anything feels off, I want you to know that you can come to me."

Bennett flicks his eyes to the side. "Yes."

Colby lets out a frustrated huff. "That wasn't an order, Bennett. I want to look out for you."

Bennett tightens his jaw, but doesn't look back, doesn't say anything. Colby seems like he wants to say something else, but another car pulls up then, tires crunching on the gravel and the headlights starting to swing towards them, and Colby stands up with a sigh.

The pack assembles around them slowly, Alison the first of their age group to show up, looking at Bennett curiously but grinning and joining him without suspicion when he'd explained that he was stretching.

Luc joins them with something of a 'why not' attitude, Bridget looking a little amused in her gentle way, seeming to enjoy the leisure of it over the usual wound-up atmosphere. Jasmine looks at them like they've lost their minds, and Peter jumps in solely because of that. Bennett's pretty sure Cooper only tries because Luc is, because if there is one thing Cooper is not, it's flexible.

As the first to start he's the first to run out of things to do, just watches the rest of his friends pull and stretch, lean bodies curved, looking like they belong with the way the branches of the trees around them twist towards the sun. If nature is a creator, Bennett can easily believe them to be hand crafted, careful bone and body constructed around the wolf within.

Austin comes then, and everyone else he'd only been aware of in the way they'd smelled pack, but Austin is his own, snaking down into Bennett's lungs and filling his system, until Bennett can't be aware of anything but the scent. He knows acutely where Austin is, somewhere behind him, can pick out which footsteps are his and listens as he strides over to talk to Colby for a moment, low muted voices, before he heads over to them.

Bennett tries not to stiffen.

"Hello," he says, and everyone looks up as though they've just noticed him for the first time, which they very well may have.

Jasmine, standing next to them like she can't stand the thought of even sitting among them while they stretch, snorts and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Hi, alpha trainee." There's a distinct sneer in her voice, even if it doesn't show on her face.

Bennett, sitting on the ground with his legs folded, looks up at her and frowns. She catches the look, locks her jaw, the edge of it keeping a slight tick, but she backs down none the less.

Bennett doesn't know why Colby's trying to groom him for beta now that he won't be alpha. Jasmine was meant to be his beta, and he can't imagine how anyone could be better. She's fierce, has good instincts, but can follow the rules when she knows the importance of them. More than anything else, once someone's proven that they're worthy, Jasmine's loyal enough to follow them to... well, Bennett hasn't personally experienced her limit yet.

"Get ready, everyone," Colby says, and he doesn't raise his voice but it carries nonetheless. Bennett glances over to see Colby silhouetted in the dim light, that moment where time just reaches twilight and the world seems to glow. He's looking at the sky, obviously able to feel the moon in the way the rest of them aren't.

Bennett stands. "Can I store with you, Alison?"

Alison shrugs. "Go for it."

Bennett lopes over to her car, shucks his clothes behind it and stuffs them into his bag before he throws them in the back seat. He knows he should go wait with his friends, knows he'll run with them, but he can't manage it just yet, feels claustrophobic even with the pack spread widely around him. He walks out into the parking lot, stalling at a certain spot for reasons he isn't sure of.

His wolf feels like it's everywhere inside of him, stretching open through his veins, clawing its way into his limbs and down his fingers, his body heat amped as though there's really another body living inside him.

He's shaking with it, but he can't get himself to stop.

A moment later, the moon breaks through the clouds overhead, spilling directly onto where Bennett's standing. He only has a moment to register that his instincts must have led him there for that, before the wolf twists within him, coming to life in a way it wasn't capable of inside him.

The change has never felt like a walk on the beach, but it's never really hurt either, always felt smooth instead of forceful. This shift feels different.

His wolf rips its way out of him.

Sound scrapes out of his throat, somewhere between a scream and a howl, primal and bone-shivering, and Bennett can feel the change rippling its way through his body. There's always a blurring of where and when and how he becomes the beast, but usually there's some sort of order to it, rather than this rushing, the prickling of hair growing and crack of his bones shifting and the flood of his senses changing.

It's overwhelming, and before Bennett knows it he's on his paws, panting. He's never shifted that fast, and he thought it would be advantageous, but he understands why the process works the way it does. It wasn't painful, he doesn't feel hurt, but it was unpleasant, and while Bennett feels like there's finally some sort of release, he also feels slightly uneasy, a wrongness settling in him when he thinks of that change.

Colby trots over, nudging Bennett's shoulder with his nose. His body language speaks for him. You okay?

Bennett lets out a huff of air, shakes his body to feel the fur ripple in waves. It feels strange not to have his wolf wound tight inside him, an absence inside him now that he's set it free.

He flicks his ears forward, showing attentiveness. Ready when you are.

Colby doesn't seem satisfied, but even if this was the place to have the discussion, there's everyone around them, and the forms they're in aren't particularly conductive to conversation.

Colby lopes passed him, throwing his head back to howl. The pack echoes it, and then they fall in together, running and running, the forest a blur around them.

Bennett can feel with each tense and release of his muscles the unravelling of the ball sitting tangled in his chest, but he worries that this is only temporary, and that it'll just rework itself in time for the next moon.

Bennett doesn't know how long it takes him to work the restlessness out of his muscles. What he does know is that by the time it does, he can finally begin to take in everything else - the feel of the ground under his paws instead of just the pounding of his paws onto it as he runs hard, the wide spaces between the trees and the familiarity of the pack winding between them, and then Austin's scent, hitting him full force.

Bennett snuffs out a breath, trying to drive it out of his nose, but it just seems to come back stronger on the next inhale.

He growls in annoyance, and Bridget looks over at him in alarm. Bennett hates the humanity shining in her eyes, the gentleness and compassion that shouldn't be on a wolf's face, and he races passed her so she can't give him that expression. He may be smaller than most of the others, but he's faster too.

He's racing along the ground, breath raking in and out of him, only the scent isn't weakening. There's a sudden spike of it, and then Bennett realizes that Austin's pulled up alongside him.

Bennett bares his teeth and snaps at him, but Austin neatly sidesteps it, and they keep running side by side.

Bennett can feel the thrum of aggression under his skin, even while Austin's scent is winding its way through his lungs and into his blood, and he expects Austin to retaliate, but he doesn't, just whines deep in his throat. Bennett's stride stutters in surprise, causing him to slow, and Austin follows him with it, keeping even.

There's heat radiating off of him and onto Bennett, contrasted to the damp night chill, different than the warmth of the pack that he can feel around him. Austin feels warmer than that, a diffusing burn that's spreading onto Bennett. Bennett's wolf seems to respond in turn, and he feels expectant of something he can't name, feverish feeling searing its way out from the centre.

Austin keeps running beside him, and Bennett can see the glint of intelligence behind his eyes, amber swimming behind the blue. The fact that the colour of the wolf, of an alpha, is sitting there just waiting to come forth tells Bennett that Austin really was made for this. He belongs in this form, in this place, in a way that they don't.

They're still running, so there isn't anyway to touch without setting each other off balance, but Austin seems tempted, pressing up as close as he can without actually bumping Bennett and messing with their stride.

He whines a little again, and feeling jolts through Bennett, want and a sort of rightness, cresting and settling in him at the same time.

It scares him, and his stride skips a little when he's caught off guard by it, before he takes off.

He sprints away, leaving the pack behind, knowing he's too fast to be caught and grateful for it instead of guilty.

He runs alone for a while, twisting through the darkened trees. He isn't worried about getting lost; he can follow his scent back, human or wolf. He doesn't know if he's being followed, if anyone's coming after him, since he's often running too fast for any of them to catch up to. He's a little too agile for them too, coiling in and around the forest's obstacles, but he can't figure out if he's doing that consciously to run himself ragged and surround himself by the forest, or if it's unconsciously to make his trail harder to follow.

By the time the moon gets swallowed by the clouds again, Bennett's somewhere in the middle of the forest, and the sixth sense he always seems to have for where his pack is, tucked away somewhere he can't touch, has finally quieted.

He stands alone among the trees, everything silent except for the whisper of the wind soft in the air, the susurrus of the trees moving with it. He thinks he should feel strange, standing naked out in the night air, bare feet pushing against the loamy soil scattered with forest debris.

He closes his eyes, feels the gentle sift of the breeze through his hair, and then focuses in on his sense of smell, opens his eyes, and finds his way home.

He skips the parking lot where the pack meets, sure they would have cleared out by the time he made it back anyway. He knows the woods well enough to loop around through them back to his own house, and he's glad for the dark when he sneaks back into his backyard and through the back door, even more grateful for the fact that his mom has an early morning tomorrow and should be firmly asleep by now. He heads straight to the bathroom, stands under the spray and turns it straight up to scalding, beating on his skin, wishing he could strip it away, maybe even rip off the rest of him, layer by layer, taking away the wolf he doesn't know any more and going deep enough to take him away completely.

After he showers, he dries off, dresses, and sleeps. His dreams are twisting, a moon glowing bright and the shadow of a black wolf biting out of it, leaving it a jagged crescent. The crescent twists, writhes, falls to the earth growing larger larger larger until Bennett's bathed in the light, unfolds so it can clamp around him, pincers crushing him until he struggles to breathe. The serrated lining breaks through to his skin and cuts like shards of glass, blood makes rivulets down his body widening into rivers, and when Bennett wakes up, panting and hoarse, for a second he thinks he's soaked in blood instead of sweat.

Alison gives him a look when Bennett walks up to them the next morning, and Bennett doesn't understand why until she tosses him the bag he'd stashed in her car during the moon. He catches it easily but winces at leaving it with her.

"Thanks for keeping it," he says, because there isn't much else to say, even if it comes out stilted and awkward.

"Are you okay, Ben?" she asks, frowning. "You weren't like yourself on the moon."

Bennett shrugs, turning away and shoving the bag of clothes into his locker so he can stop looking at it. "My wolf's been weird. Don't worry about it."

Jasmine gives him a calculating look at that, but Bennett studiously avoids her eyes, and Alison takes the attention off it, likely unintentionally, by commenting dryly, "Maybe you're finally getting a mating season."

Bennett shoots her a glare, mostly teasing, thankful for the reprieve in a sense but still feeling like it hit a little too close to home.

He smells Austin then, the smell curling around him, and his wolf lurches to the surface, instinct running sharp and nearly overflowing through him. He has a sudden sense of wanting, of sinking their teeth into each other, rolling around slick with sweat until they smell like each other, letting loose primal drives that blur the lines between what the man and the beast want.

He's alarmed by it, thought the wilder part of his reaction to Austin would be calmed after the moon, but he manages to tamp it down, used to getting side-swiped by his reaction to Austin's scent.

"Hey," Austin's voice carries over. Most of the group turns, but Bennett stays looking ahead, uses digging through his locker as an excuse. Jasmine doesn't even feign politeness, instead she pointedly turns away from Austin and faces Bennett.

"So, you had to get into your house naked?" she says, arching one dark brow. Bennett groans and drops his head against the frame of his locker.

Things progress. Austin's smell keeps blind-siding him, his wolf's starting to get restless under his skin again, and he goes to Austin's alpha training sessions and tries to pretend that each time Bennett teaches him something it doesn't feel like he's giving something up with it. And that's fine, he's learning to ignore it, or if not ignore it, at least the feeling's starting to get familiar enough that Bennett's able to cope.

He's managing, and thinks maybe he's finding a new normal, even if he doesn't really like it.

That's when the dreams start.

Bennett's a wolf, running and running, muscles stretching under his hide, powerful. He revels in it, feels not like he's being pushed and pulled by the moon, but like he's comfortable in himself in any form, human and wolf fluidly.

Another wolf pulls up beside Bennett, but he isn't alarmed, knows in that dream sense of knowing, where you're assured of something without being given a reason or proof: This wolf is safe, this wolf is someone he can trust.

They twist towards each other as they run, nipping at each other, playful. Eventually the other wolf tackles him, but Bennett isn't concerned, knows it's play instead of aggression or dominance. Bennett can see cream fur above him, and the wolf reaches down and bites at his shoulder.

Bennett arches, fur and hide melting away into skin, and when he scrambles his hands up, they catch the smooth expanse of a human back, broad and male. He can feel the muscle there, coiled carefully, shifting powerfully as he lowers over Bennett. The teeth are still in his shoulder, and the man above tightens his hold, incisors sinking deeper, but what would hurt with predatory teeth only comes across as sexual. Bennett can feel his own spike of arousal, smell it on the other, and he gasps and presses them together, skin to skin, and he can feel the heat of it that hasn't reached the point of sweat yet. The teeth detach from his shoulder, and the man pulls back, and Bennett catches blond hair dripping down over a face holding blue blue eyes.

Bennett wakes with a jerk, gasping, clutching his fingers in his sheets and feeling like he has claws just beneath the surface ready to spring free.

If it had been just that dream he could manage, but instead he gets them every night: ones where he willing turns over his dominance and lies out, shifting human as Austin stretches out over him; ones where he chases and chases something he can't reach but needs until he bursts out of the forest on paws, quickly turned into feet as he tumbles into Austin's arms; ones where he catches Austin by the scruff, climbing to mount him and lying somewhere between the realm of animal and human as they do; ones where they lie quiet and wrapped up in each other, comforted by the other's scent and heat and presence.

He thinks he's losing sleep, but he'll be damned if he lets his wolf try to hammer in its point by using his sleeping mind when it can't get to his concious mind by the instincts it pushes at him.

Usually Bennett gets some warning before he has to see Austin, some sort of time to calm himself or at least brace for it. Austin showing up unannounced at his house one day wasn't something he'd ever called for.

"You have a guest," his mom tells him, and Bennett frowns at the lack of description, but his mom doesn't really know any of his friends in detail, so he doesn't think much of it. He wonders which of his friends needed to come see him on a Saturday, but he isn't going to be concerned without being given a reason to be.

He understands when he crosses through the doorway to the living room, catches sight of a head of blond hair and realizes before he gets hit with Austin's scent full on. He nearly staggers under it, trying to hide it as Austin glances up at him, eyes blue even from across the room, and Bennett's dream from the night before rises up unbidden, flashing through his mind in a visual recall full of snapshots and feelings, wolf teeth roll body pressure heat want mine.

"What are you doing here?" he gets out, voice choked.

Austin tilts his head. "Colby recommended we work on your instincts, remember?"

Bennett grinds his teeth together. "You had to show up unannounced at my house?"

Austin shrugs. "What, like you were doing anything?"

Bennett has to resist the urge to make strangling motions in his direction. "That's not the point."

Austin smiles, smug. "And yet you didn't notice I was here until just before you came into the room. I think that proves we have some work to do."

Bennett breathes out slow through his nose, working to calm himself. "And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?"

Austin shrugs, leaning forward like he can convince Bennett by will. "Smell, body language, awareness, what have you. It sucks that we can't shift, but we can work with what we have."

Bennett's mind flashes back to his dreams, bodies melting between forms by will instead of the lunar cycle. He pushes it away.

"I don't see how you're going to teach me to be better at the things that are sorted out naturally," he grits out instead.

Austin shrugs again, this time just one shoulder. "I don't believe that's true, actually. I think the ease with dominant body language and stronger sense comes to higher ranked wolves easier, but I'm sure you can improve if you work at it."

"Great, you came here to test a theory," Bennett says, dry.

Austin looks at him then, serious, eyes pinning Bennett down. "And I thought you were the type to go for anything that could get you what you want."

Bennett locks his jaw, wanting to challenge Austin over knowing anything about him, but he can't. Not when there's maybe a chance Austin could be right. Bennett will never be alpha, but if he can shrug off that weakness he feels, the sense of being overpowered and outclassed, of being too small in his own skin, he can risk giving a little bit of ground for the trade off.

After repeated practices and attempts, Bennett's starting to think that all he's giving up is time.

Bennett can't figure out if Austin's theory is totally wrong, if Bennett just isn't picking it up, or if Austin's truly a terrible teacher.

"No, just like, watch my body language," he's saying, and Bennett watches the powerful shift of his shoulders, but hell if he knows what that means. He thought he knew this - all the lowered eyes and elevated heights and posturing, but apparently he has no sense of the nuances behind everything. "Not only is my body language changing, but my scent should too, getting weaker as my posture gets less dominant."

What the heck, Bennett's never noticed any of this before. And he isn't now, either.

"I'm not smelling anything different than usual," he snaps. "Unless you're just fucking with me."

Austin looks at him with disappointed eyes, like he can't sense it just because he doesn't believe, and fuck him, Bennett can smell Austin clear as anything. He has more awareness for him than anyone else, and he's still not getting any of this. He believes his senses first, trusts his wolf to keep him alerted, and he's focusing on it now whether Austin believes he is or not. That doesn't keep the disappointed expression off, though. Bennett wants to deck him.

"You know what?" Bennett says, rubbing at the skin above his eyes. "I think we should end for today."

Austin's lips purse, obviously not pleased, but he gets up, taking his jacket and leaving with a quiet click of the door behind him. His scent is still lingering behind him, now covering the living room and too strong either in that it's not something he's used to smelling at home, or just because it's Austin, and Bennett can't seem to ignore him no matter how hard he tries.

"Today I want to address mates," Colby says one session, pacing in front of the boys seated on the couch, though whether it's a restless gesture or one of dominance by elevation Bennett can't tell.

Bennett, focused on one of the books about werewolf government spread out on his lap, looks up with a frown. "You never talked about this with me."

Colby shakes his head. "It wasn't as important with you."

Bennett scowls, some sort of implication there that he doesn't really like.

"Why is it more important for me?" Austin asks, leaning forward and bracing his arms across his legs.

"You have stronger instincts."

Bennett makes a sour face. He had a feeling it'd be something like that.

"And?" Austin presses, still sounding confused at Colby's point.

Colby stops pacing, pivots to face them. "And while no alpha needs a mate, there's a higher chance of you getting a mating urge. Not only this, but since your strength is on the instinctive side, then having a partner to manage the more diplomatic side and work with you as another alpha, keep you in check and make you better, would be highly beneficial."

Austin's frowning at the floor, but it doesn't look upset, just... contemplative. "So then what do you have to say that's more than that and requires a whole session?"

Colby's eyes are serious and intent on Austin, and Bennett shivers, glad he's not the one caught under that gaze. Austin barely seems bothered though, merely staring back with curiosity, and Bennett curses his dominant genes.

"Do you know anything about mated pairs?" Colby asks.

Austin frowns. "Not really. I know it's like a special bond and everything, that it's permanent, that it can only be formed between two wolves that are already made to be compatible, but that's about it."

Colby nods, like this was what he expected. "That's the basics, general knowledge. You'll need to be informed of more specifics outside of the romantic aspect painted around were culture."

Austin doesn't look pleased, but he doesn't object, so Colby continues.

"There are other types of shifters that can mate, but it's not as common, partially because wolves are made to have a mated pair as alphas and, as pack animals, are typically more social and connected. Some shifters are more independent and are less likely to mate, or there may just be fewer of them. There's not as much known about mating among foreign types of shifters." Colby flickers a glance over towards Bennett.

Bennett shrugs in answer to the unasked question. "Mom never said anything, but then I've obviously ended up displaying more of my wolf blood than my kappa blood, so she might've thought it wouldn't really apply to me. There aren't really any other water shifters around here, let alone the Japanese ones."

Austin looks over at Bennett in curiosity. "Your mom's a shifter?"

Bennett nods briefly. "Japanese water shifter. I'm almost all wolf, though, so we don't talk about her experience that much."

Austin seems like he wants to ask what Bennett means by 'almost all wolf', but he gets cut off by Colby, who tells Bennett, "You might want to consider it. It may have more of an indirect effect than you think, on your perception of senses and the way you shift. Even if not, you can always learn something from another shifter's advice."

Bennett hadn't considered that his mom's shifter blood could have been what made his natural instincts so far behind what Austin was picking up, and he feels a shot of bitterness, even though he knows it's not really anyone's fault. He hates that he'll always be a step behind.

"Alphas are more likely to feel that pull for a mate," Colby continues, barely touching on the cold realization he'd dumped onto Bennett. "Your heightened sense of other wolves and awareness in general will make you more likely to recognize a potential mate. Most other mated pairs have to check with their alpha in the process of getting recognized as being romantically involved, generally just by tradition and respect to the Alpha, and they can often tell if two wolves have the possibility to mate."

"That sounds pretty vague," Austin says, scrunching his nose.

Colby folds his arms, looking disapproving. "It's serious business, Austin. These are life-long bonds."

"I know, but can other wolves really not sense if they can have that? Mating is intense and personal, isn't it? How can you not recognize that in other person?"

Colby presses his lips together. "Your wolf works on another level than the human side. Generally, it's just there sensing things at a lower level. As an alpha, or a potential one of your level, you have more of a connection to your wolf aside from when the lunar cycle pulls it close to the surface. Other wolves can sense their mates, but generally there isn't enough for them to recognize that pull for what it is, or to think anything of it. The only time they'll know like you would is if the potential bond is strong enough."

Austin perks up at that. "What do you mean?"

Colby looks like he wants to roll his eyes at the fact that Austin only pays attention when they're talking about the more extreme cases of things. "There's varying levels of strength in the bond between mated pairs. If the potential bond is strong enough, it will pull the wolf to the surface and attract that person to their potential mate by their senses, regardless of dominance or rank. It's rare that the mated bond is that strong though, so don't get wrapped up in that. Chances are if you do mate, it will be a weaker bond, more professional to help you manage the pack. You're more likely to let your instincts get the best of you and lead through those, and while they're fairly reliable, sometimes you have to take a step back and leash them because they're not an appropriate way to manage things in a more modern society, especially when relations between packs nowadays is more by treaties and legislation and agreements than dominance posturing."

Bennett pointedly ignores the details on stronger bonds pulling the wolf and it's senses to the surface.

Austin makes a face, displaying how this doesn't appeal to him. "But that's part of why Bennett's here, right? To help me learn all the boring paperwork side of things?"

Colby levels Austin an unimpressed look, and Bennett has to fight not to turn and snap at Austin that he's not his assistant, or whatever Austin has in mind for Bennett as his training partner and potential beta. "It's best that you learn all that you can on your own, yes, and a mate is far from required for you to lead, but in your case it might work out for the better. But because you're going to be of a more heightened dominance and rank even as an alpha, they'll be some unusual circumstances if you bond."

Austin's brows furrow. "What do you mean?"

Colby pauses. "There's going to be a sort of... imbalance."

Bennett sits up then, letting the binder in his lap lie open. "In the sense of control?"

"Not exactly," Colby hedges. "When an alpha takes power, their own dominance and power is enhanced, as displayed by the ability to choose a shift. Any mate of an alpha takes this on, usually as their equal, but since Austin already has such a higher level of dominance at his natural level, is designed to take leadership of a pack, he'll end up with more power than the regular alpha - including his mate, should he take one."

Austin looks discomfited in the same way Bennett feels. "So I'd overpower them," he says, soft, and Bennett feels this weird sense of pride in him, that he seems bothered by that more than imperious.

Colby holds up a hand. "I was getting to that."

Both of them go quiet, waiting.

Colby sighs, dragging a hand through his hair, until it stands up like a damp pelt where the fur was dragged against the way the hair lies. "It's uncommon, as the usual case with mated pairs is that the less dominant one gets elevated in status, made for them to be equal to each other in a way pack can't be, but there are mates of staggered dominance. In that case, the lower one can sort of... pull."

Bennett and Austin exchange a glance, but neither seems to understand what Colby's getting at.

"Pull?" Austin says, and the way he says it, wary, hesitant to let the words unfurl from his mouth, makes Bennett feel restless and uneasy.

"Essentially, yes," Colby agrees. "They can pull power, dominance, strengths from the other. I'm not aware of the specifics, since it's rare, but it's something to be aware of. You'll remain more dominant, but you won't be unequal - should your mate need it, they always have the ability to pull from your own strength through your connection."

Austin looks kind of alarmed. "Would that... weaken me?"

"Only slightly," Colby says. "You're meant to contain that power whereas it isn't natural to your mate, but generally you'll be together, so they won't need it. It's more in the case of separation. There are some minor records of when the naturally inclined alpha has to leave the pack and their mate pulls from their natural dominance to assert leadership more easily. It wouldn't be unequal, is what I'm trying to say. They won't be bowing down to you, even as your mate."

Bennett frowns. "But didn't you just tell us that they're still staggered, power-wise? How would that work?"

Colby pins Bennett with his stare then, and Bennett fights not to instinctually shrink back against the couch cushions. "Mates are made to be equal. Even in a mated pair of unequal rank, the higher wolf can recognize what their mate is, that they're safe, that they're meant for each other and to have an understanding, no posturing required. Some alphas become mated solely because of that, because of the isolation of having everyone defer to you and no one to challenge you or be your equal. If he mates, his wolf will recognize the difference between his mate and others, likely even before the bond is formed."

Bennett glances at Austin then, expecting him to seem more settled now that he knows he's not going to overpower his mate, but instead he looks almost haunted.

Colby catches it too, frowning. "Austin?"

Austin flickers a glance over to him. "Nothing."

They move onto another topic, but Austin still seems off and unsettled for the rest of the session.

It takes another two sessions before Bennett learns that Austin isn't really pack.

"What?" he says, bewildered, too taken by surprise to try to hide the expression on his face.

Austin shifts uncomfortably, while Colby looks him directly in the eye. Bennett drops his gaze by instinct.

"He can't be," Colby says, calm as ever. "He's a true alpha, born to take over pack rule. If I were to take him in it would almost certainly spark an instinctual challenge between us. I have to wait until he's ready before I cede power."

"So he's... he's a lone wolf?" Bennett says. He can't believe this. Lone wolves run on their own; if you don't have a pack you're certainly not just sitting inside pack territory easy as can be.

And he doesn't smell foreign. And not only can Bennett smell him strongly enough to be able to tell, but he spends enough time with him. He doesn't have that acrid, bitter taste of an invader. None of the other pack members have made noise implying that either.

But then again, he doesn't smell like pack either. It's like an absence of a territory smell, just Austin.

Colby shakes his head. "Lone wolfs reject pack structure. It's more like he's just unclaimed right now. As soon as he has a pack, he'll likely be its alpha, so it's almost like his wolf is developing it's own sense of territory and smell that will orient itself around whatever pack it takes on. Usually it goes the other way around."

Bennett just blinks. "Huh."

"You don't have to say it like that," Austin grumbles. Bennett flicks a glance to him, slumping sullen on the couch.

"You can't blame him," Colby speaks before Austin can. "He has a different orientation to pack structure than you do. You're dominant enough to virtually exist outside of it, and even will continue to after you take leadership, since you won't be grappling with other alphas the way we all currently have to."

Austin ducks his head. "Great. Always going to be alone and different."

Bennett... hadn't looked at it that way. He saw power, opportunity, an advantage given that hadn't had to earned.

Maybe it's not so simple. Not so black and white.

Colby's mouth turns into a frown. "Again, this is part of why I think taking on a mate might be good. The only way to have more than one alpha in a pack is when they're a mated pair."

Austin throws his hands up. "But I'll still be above them! I'm not even going to be a regular alpha." He breathes heavy, dropping his hands like the energy in them is gone, dead weight. "Maybe I should be a lone wolf."

Colby pins Austin with a dead stare. "I'm not going to pretend it's my choice, but I won't pretend either that I like you considering that in the least."

Austin lifts his head and glares at Colby. Bennett nearly flinches back; it's one thing to meet an alpha's eyes when packs are slowly shifting dominance shows with modern times, but it's another to stare them down yourself. Bennett can't stop the part of him that makes this feel like a challenge, his wolf jumping up with nerves at two potential clashing alphas.

Colby doesn't move, eyes as steady on Austin as they were before Austin looked back. "You'd be squandering potential if you defected from packs, and your wolf would never be satisfied, never settle in the way the safety of a pack gives. But ultimately it would be your choice."

Austin ticks his jaw, contemplative.

"You don't know, do you?" Bennett says, quiet, barely audible, but both wolves can hear better than most and turn to him. Bennett doesn't look back, eyes on his hands, voice still soft. "You don't know that you radiate dominance off like a furnace, easy and thick and constant, and all of us are used to it now. I'm - It, it's comforting now. You could lead, you barely have to think of your instincts and your shifts and your wolf. It all just comes to you. Haven't you ever wondered what a pack under that would be like? So smooth?"

Austin stands up then, sudden, and this time Bennett can't quell it when he flinches back into the armrest on his side of the couch, shrinking away from Austin. "Right, so I just take their control?" Austin snaps. "So dominant everyone falls under me easily? How great."

"That's not what I meant," Bennett snarls back. "Everyone gains strength from the pack, from the connection between us. Have you imagined a pack with the kind of strength you'd have as an alpha? It would change it, but I'm not convinced it's for the worst. You have a better handle on your instincts than anyone I've ever seen; I have a hard time imagining it getting away from you."

The anger drains from Austin's posture then, the tension from his shoulders dripping down and pulling everything with it, leaving him slumping with the tight curl of his fists unfurling.

"But what if it does?" he says, voice quiet, eyes haunted. Bennett doesn't know what to say to that.

The next moon inches it's way into the sky, fattening like garden fruit. It hangs in the sky just on the edge on full, and Bennett's wolf crawls beneath his skin.

He doesn't think he can wait away with the pack for the change, would feel claustrophobic with that pressure pushing in when it already feels like his wolf's trying to push it's way out. He jogs to the closest edge of the forest, waits cross-legged and watching the sky, glowing with the closing dusk.

When it feels close, he strips, folding his clothes at the foot of a tree where they won't be easily found. The shift doesn't come long after.

He goes to find his pack shortly after, chasing down where they should be in the forest by knowing where they'd all start, following the pull of his own body and where it wants to go. He trusts that part of his wolf, at least: the pack has been within and wound up through the deep, wild, instinctual part of him where his wolf rests for as long as he's known either, so much that they're nearly one and the same.

He cuts across the edge of town, nothing too overt, just through an old abandoned farm yard that nobody's lived in for years. The boards are coming loose, worn down with weather, thin in some places and not even there in others, gaping holes in the wall like open mouths.

The grass is dry and dead beneath his paws as he runs, and he doesn't like it, but his wolf rarely likes anything but forest ground, where it belongs and where the territory is when they're animals, instead of the whole town being under their pack. He still knows it's theirs, somewhere in his head, but he feels exposed and like he's in the wrong place, and it's not a good feeling.

The wind whistles, rustling the grass and brushing across his fur, making the loose boards on the barn creak. He skitters, spooked. He knows it's just the wind, but something feels wrong.

Besides the wind, it's quiet.

Too quiet.

Bennett stops, skidding and looking around frantically, just as net sails over his head and misses him, where it would have caught if he'd still been running.

He snarls, afraid and angry, trying to get whatever hidden enemy there is to back off.

"Now, now, little doggy, be nice," a voice says, crooning, the sound snaking down his spine unpleasantly, slick like an oil spill. He spins towards it, teeth pulled back as his chest rumbles with a full growl, and he sees a man walking slowly out of the shadows.

This has never happened before; he doesn't know what to do. Can he hurt a human? Is that against the rules set out to protect them? Can he retaliate in self defence, or can he not deal damage at all?

He doesn't know, and it makes him uncertain, wary, shifting on his feet as his ears flick around.

He catches the snap of a branch to the side, turns towards it, directing the snarl there, and a woman's standing there, watching him, the same kind of net he'd just dodged held and stretched between her fingers, nails sharp like claws.

She smiles. It's not comforting or pleasant, but he's not sure it was meant to be. "Here, puppy puppy."

He flicks his eyes between them, gauging, backing away slowly. He's one of the fastest wolves in his pack, there's no way he couldn't outrun them, and even if they have a vehicle he'd by far get to the woods first, where they can't follow with it. He's even got his pelt, water resistant like an otter's fur, courtesy of his mother's lineage, enough that he's a better swimmer than any full wolf. He's already starting to map his way to a river, to water, in his head, looking at the gaps between the people approaching him with measured steps, enclosing around him.

"Trust me, you don't want to run away," the man says, voice dark, and Bennett tenses as the man steps forward. He moves to dart between him and the woman, and she throws the net out. He wonders what it's supposed to do, considering the edges look poorly weighted. There's no way that's holding him down, even if it landed square over top of him, which isn't likely when he's running.

The edge catches around his ankle, and he goes down, yelping, wondering how a simple net could hurt so much. Only the pain doesn't stop when he's down, it's still there, just as bad, and his leg feels like it's burning.

That's when he realizes the net is lined with silver.

"Good boy," the female voice coos, and he's thrashing, trying to get free, but the burning won't stop. His senses are disordered, and he can't tell where she is, ground and sky blurring, unable to track footsteps and smells probably.

His vision as a wolf isn't as good as it is when he's human, but other senses compensate. He's never felt well and truly blind until now.

He doesn't think he's ever been this scared.

He can't get free, and then the rest of the net wraps around him, and he wants to sob, in both hopelessness and pain, but it doesn't work in this body, and he lets out a long, high-pitched whine.

The people pay him no mind, and he's vaguely aware of being carried, then dumped onto a surface, someone climbing up beside him and making the floor rock, and then he realizes he's in the bed of a pick-up truck.

He's too disoriented to really be able to see the sky, but he's born to the moon, and he can feel it even now, the gentle tug it gives as it sits above, an impassive observer.

He turns his face towards it, basking in it, and then he throws his head back and howls.

He puts everything he can into it, attempting to tug on his connection to the pack, pouring in whatever human and animal strength he can muster, and he's never heard one like this, ringing eerie off the trees, but it could just be the way his hearing's thrown off.

He can only hope.

"Shut up, shut up," a voice says, hissing low, and then a hand smothers over Bennett's muzzle. He tries to snap at it, snarling, but then another voice says, "Put it under," one he doesn't recognize, and then there's a strange scent in his nose, chemical and sharp, and everything's going muffled and fading out into blackness.

When he reawakens, awareness comes in pieces. First, he's aware that he's human, that the full moon must be over. Second, he's aware of an intense, unrelenting burning around his wrists. Third, he's aware that he's in some sort of basement, the only light a tiny window set high in the wall and slanting sun onto the concrete floor, and he's shackled to the wall behind him. Based on the burning, they're made with silver, or at the very least coated with it.

He breathes heavy, deep, trying to inhale-exhale around the pain, but it doesn't do anything. He's achingly aware of the sharp agony wrapped just above his hands like the never ending lash of a whip curling all the way around the bones of his wrist.

He vaguely realizes he's shaking.

He doesn't know how long he's there in silence, listening to his own breathing, before he hears footsteps coming down the stairs.

He lifts his head in time to see the woman trekking down, boots landing heavy on each step. She raises an eyebrow when she sees him. "Hello pup."

He tenses his jaw, pressing his lips together. He doesn't care if he looks archaic, if he proves something about being less civilised - that last thing he wants is to talk to any of these people.

"Ah, don't look so down," she says, before turning and calling up the stairs, "He's awake!"

A shiver of fear, of warning, slithering down his spine. He reaches for his wolf, trying to feel it, but he can barely grasp it, lying quiet and weak within him, before his grasp slips.

The silver's making him weak.

He thought it was only the instantaneous reaction, the pain and the physical, but he can feel it draining him, feel how he's more tired than before.

He wonders what will happen the longer he stays here, if his wolf will get so far away that he won't be able to shift by the next moon, and he feels the fear welling up, thick and threatening to choke him, before he pushes it down.

He can't worry that far ahead. He has to focus on right now.

Another few pairs of footsteps thunder down the stairs, and Bennett watches two more people appear.

They're both men, and the younger one Bennett recognizes from the old farm house. The second is older, hair greying at the temples and streaking silver back through dark hair, and he watches Bennett with an intensity that makes him uncomfortable.

"Werewolf," he says, and that one word is enough for Bennett to recognize his voice as the one that had ordered the others to put him under when he'd been resting in the truck bed. He tenses instinctively at it, shoulders coiling back, but that just causes his wrists to pull on the chains, and the shackles dig in. He releases the posture with a hiss. The man watches him through it all, smiling when he's done. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

Bennett grits his teeth, staring him down. He knows the man doesn't have the least bit of wolf in him, would be able to smell it if he did, but even if the man doesn't understand the dominant gesture it gives Bennett a sense of satisfaction to implement it. This isn't his alpha; he isn't bowing down.

The man grips his chin, and Bennett tries to snarl, but the sound doesn't come out quite right, too much like imitation than a real sound.

"You're going to tell us so much," he says, eyes scanning over Bennett's face. "We can't usually catch a wolf. They put up too much of a fight, end up making us cause too much damage."

Bennett's stomach roils. He can see it, a bulky beta wolf snarling and throwing his weight around, a sleek silver wolf snapping her fine teeth and refusing to back down. And he tried to run. He didn't even get away, barely even got the change to fight. He wonders if being captured like this or fighting to the point that he got taken out, slow and painful, is better or worse. He can't help the thought that this will be worse.

These aren't just regular people, no curious folklore chaser or scientist. There is no confirming a theory here. All the people in the room speak about the wolves and their shifts like a certainty; they've already known for long before they found Bennett. There wasn't an ounce of surprise in their expressions when they came down the stairs to see him human again - they had silver ready, not only as a restraint but as a capture tactic.

These are hunters.

The old man's hand digs in harder, and Bennett can feel the bite of his nails. They don't hurt him, not in any real way, but the dig of pain sparks his irritation, and he curls his lips back off his teeth, baring them in their faces in a snarl without sound.

"You don't have to speak for us to learn from you," he says, threatening, and with the grey through his hair he could be taken as weak, but he has leathery hands, strong fingers, and Bennett can hear the steel in his voice, the carefully maintained but easy to reach strength lying underneath. He reminds Bennett of an alpha, but in a sick way, the ones that don't strengthen their pack in order to feel that strength themselves, but instead strip everyone else down to feel they have more power, don't bolster themselves with a strong pack but instead pull it from the members, turning everything parasitic and sickening.

"Fuck off," he says, and his voice comes out harsh, rasping, almost a growl through his human vocal cords.

The man doesn't so much as smile, just turns Bennett's head from side to side like an inspection. Like when you look over meat at the market to check if it's good. Bennett's stomach turns.

He realizes now why they were so triumphant over winning him without damage. They want to experiment.

He's going to be sick.

The man must see something in his face, because he steps back after he's glanced into Bennett's eyes, seen the look in them. He turns and heads back up the stairs.

"Vaelerie," he says over his shoulder, voice calm but commanding, carrying by his confidence instead of having to yell, "start with a blood sample."

The woman grins, heading over the side of the room where a counter lies, and she pulls out a syringe from some of the cupboards underneath. Bennett can't help but wonder about sterilization. Would they care to bother, barely seeing him as human? Would they do it just for clean experimentation results? Even if it has been used before, can it hurt him, could he even die by it? Were this any other case, he wouldn't give it a second thought, but with the silver pushing down the way his wolf is pounding beneath his pulse, he isn't sure of anything. It's made him weak already - maybe it's made him weak enough to suffer, to die in a way he wouldn't otherwise be able. He wonders if that's part of their aim.

The younger man comes forward, eyes sharp, and Bennett thrashes against the wall, throwing out whatever convincing noise he can, snarls and growls and deep, throat heavy sounds, all of which sound too human and not nearly wild enough. He feels stripped bare, like he's lying in human skin under the moon, waiting for a shift that never comes.

He grabs Bennett by the shoulders, pinning him against the wall with rough fingers and palms and hands. He holds him there as the woman comes forward, the sharp point of the needle gleaming along with the sharp curved grin of her teeth.

"Here puppy, puppy, puppy," she says, and he snarls into her face, the sound just as fearful as it is angry and aggressive, and with the man pinning him to the wall, she jabs the needle into the skin at the inside bend of his elbow.

He knows it'll hurt, but he tries to rip away, even get the needle to drag out of his skin, through the layers, bring up blood, but he's too pinned down. He watches her pull it out, feeling dizzy with it, and then she pulls away, and the man drops him. He swings on the chain, silver wrenching at his wrists, pulling at the thin skin of his elbow where the needle had pierced, and he snarls at them. The woman only smiles back, waving the vial at him, showing that she doesn't need anything else from him - not in a reminder that she won't hurt him, but that his only use to her is what his body can provide. The man does't look at him at all.

He stays there a long time. They are not kind to him.

Bennett knows that he's just a vessel to them, a puzzle, that they have no reason to keep him alive besides new data, new experimental materials. Not even just in the sense of what they can take from him, but in that he himself is data. He is the one that contains the wolf they study.

He would lose track of time if he were anything but what he is, if he couldn't feel the moon. He can feel it moving, slow, sluggish, the only tie to his wolf he can find. He can't feel his wolf, can't take strength from it or its instincts, can't feel the pull to his pack at all, stronger when he's shifted but still there as a soft tug when human, a reminder.

He's well and truly alone, like he hasn't been for years. He can't remember that twin instinct, sense, in his head, in his bones. The wolf isn't just something lying side by side inside of him, but a part of him. He is the wolf and the wolf is him.

And he's lost it. Possibly for good.

They don't take off the shackles, take blood samples every day, feed him just enough to sate his hunger. He thinks they would give less if they didn't need the blood.

Bennett thinks he might have a better idea of what to do with this, if it wasn't so quiet. He has nothing to do when the hunters aren't there, a cycle of boredom and then fear, and he can't remember the last time he spoke, doesn't know whether to use anger or calm if he did, worried he'll give up too much. He's here, but at least there's no one else.

The silver never comes off. Even in the dark, alone, he can't try to plan an escape even if he truly believed he could implement one, because he mind spin spins spins and his wrists burn.

"Puppy," The woman says, lifting up one of his eyelids, waking him up from the sluggish sleep he can only manage when he hits the edges of exhaustion, when that burns out the pain.

He snuffles, trying to get the scent of her so close out of his nose, and she laughs into his face outright.

"We're going to try something," she tells him, like she's being conspiratorial, like she's telling him a secret. Like he'd ever have the chance to tell anyone outside of this place anything ever again.

"Vaelerie, why do you always talk to it?" the man says, voice a bored drawl.

She shrugs. "Not like either of you are much conversation. I've got nothing better to do." She turns back to Bennett, pats his cheek in rough approximation of her mark. "You're not going to like this one," she says cheerfully, and shivers run down his spine, slithering like cool metal.

The man takes out a new syringe, but instead of taking it straight to Bennett, he fills it with something.

They're going to inject him with something.

He can feel himself shrinking back automatically, trying to get as far away physically as possible, but there's no where to go.

The man hands the woman the syringe, looking bored, and then comes forward and braces Bennett with his weight. By now it's routine, too usual for Bennett to put up much protest, but today he thrashes anew, gives all of what little strength he has into making this difficult for them at the very least.

The man grunts, reaches forward and gets a better grip on Bennett, sticks his shoulder into him, edges sharp. "Sit still, you little shit," he says, but Bennett growls right into his ear, all the animalistic aggression he can muster. It sounds how he feels, angry and fearful and ruined, yet it doesn't sound enough like a wolf and too much like a boy.

"You're covering him too much for me to get the needle in," the woman says, sounding like this is all banal, and it fucks Bennett up, that this has become routine, that they aren't trying to screw him over any longer but are verging closer to apathy.

"Fuck you, fuck you," he snaps at her, at both of them, at this situation, his voice rough and harsh but whether because of the fury and rage and panic or from misuse he can't tell.

He's thrashing too much to see either of their faces, but there's a smile in the woman's voice. "He speaks," she says, sounding pleased.

"Yeah, Val, he speaks. Help me out here?" the man says, grunting, gruffness in his voice from exertion.

She comes forward, and Bennett's still trying to throw the man off, chafing his wrists further in the shackles, but he figures his wrists will be permanently fucked up whether he gets out of this or not, and protecting himself and what might be left of his wolf is more important. Getting out alive but damaged is better than only being let out when he's dead.

She grasps him by the shoulder, pins it to the wall with one hand while the the man continues to brace himself against Bennett, so he has his body covered, and with her other hand she reaches up and slides the needle into the skin of his elbow, pulled taught from the way he's hanging by his arms.

When they pull blood out, it isn't pleasant, but this is like they're pumping fire into him.

It burns, and his mouth pulls open, jaw working wordlessly on a scream, too much pain to get in enough air, turning too high and merely squeaking out of his throat, a slight trip of sound. Liquid fire, licking away from his elbow, up through his forearm, slipped into a vein and heading back towards his heart. He burns and burns and he hopes for death.

The world turns black before the pain finishes its curling movement over and down his shoulder, towards his chest, towards his heart.

When Bennett wakes, he honestly wishes he had died.

His entire body aches, sore and still burning, and every inhale of breath hurts. He thinks he must have been crying, because he can feel the way the tear tracks dried on his face to make it feel tight, the way his eyes hurt and feel crusted.

His throat is dry and aching, and he thinks at some point he must have been screaming. He doesn't remember it.

He's not sure he can feel his fingers, but that may just be how long he's been hanging here at this point, he's not sure any more. He's not sure of very many things.

He's aching, and sore, and scared, and exhausted, so it takes him a while to notice that he can barely feel the moon any more, just a shadow, a whisper.

Bennett sees the man first, and he doesn't say anything, just pours a cup of water down Bennett's throat and leaves.

The next he sees is all three of them, and it must be important, because the old man rarely comes to see him, so he must want to check on the results of his miniature experiment.

He doesn't smile when he sees Bennett, doesn't grin, doesn't look evil or crazed or pleased. He just looks like this is business, and that's what scares Bennett most of all, that he doesn't get anything out of this from Bennett specifically that he couldn't get from any other werewolf. He is convenient, but not necessary.

"Hmmm," he says, looking Bennett over, speculative, hands behind his back. Bennett notices he doesn't touch him very much, not unless he needs to move Bennett, like he doesn't want to dirty his hands. "We'll see how that turns out, won't we?" he speculates, more to himself than anyone else in the room. He looks up then, and his eyes are flat when they meet Bennett's, like he doesn't really believe anything to be looking back at him. "Don't suppose you'd tell me how you feel?"

Bennett doesn't say anything.

"I thought not," the older man says, and then turns to the younger man and woman. "Monitor him," is all he says before disappearing back up the stairs.

Bennett's glad to see him gone, even when he knows distance doesn't make him safe from him.

They continue to take his blood, but they don't tell him anything about the results. They only care what they can take from him.

Hanging there one night, lying in the dark, Bennett can feel the moon ripening, not yet full, and he wants to sleep but the stretch in his arms isn't enough to allow him. He breathes slow, trying to will it, aware of the quiet of the dark night, when he feels an urgency begin to pump beneath his skin, a harsh beating of his heart.

He squirms, tugging at the shackles, feeling the burn of the silver into his skin. It bothers him, but he feels this urgency to be somewhere, and he breathes heavy thinking of how he's trapped but is being called to be somewhere else, not just free, not just out but needed.

Bennett closes his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling, beyond the squirm whispering to him to find them follow it follow it, and there is some feeling of something big, something close and getting closer, but his thoughts are too scattered to make more sense of it than that.

He doesn't know what the mass of it is, not enough to be afraid.

It approaches, and Bennett breathes in deep, feeling the way his chest feels full, the way he feels surrounded. He doesn't know what it is, but he's not afraid, all the same.

A howl pierces through the air, eerie in the otherwise silent air, and Bennett can feel the barest flicker of the wolf within him before it gets buried again, too much silver scraping on his skin and running inside his blood.

But he knows.

Hope unfurls in his chest, blooming like a flower.

The woman comes hurtling down the stairs, slowing when she sees he's still hanging there, her eyes wild.

"What did you do?" she says, furious and frightened.

He doesn't say anything, just stares at her, and she clenches her jaw, frustrated. She rips through the cupboards, comes up with one long strip of cloth, which she forces into his mouth as a gag, ties behind his head so he can't spit it out. She doesn't even glance at him before going back up the stairs at a run, taking a few of the guns hung on the wall with her.

They're all large hunting rifles.

He closes his eyes, tilts his head back against the wall, tries to steady his breathing and the hum beneath his skin. There's nothing to do but wait, even if he feels like he'll shake apart in the meantime.

He hears the battle start above his head, but he can't do anything, tied down. He listens to the door being broken down, the hunters making a stand, footsteps above his head, growling out of human throats and gunfire. There's smacks and thuds and grunting, and it scares Bennett, to think he that he doesn't know who's winning.

He can hear the gurgling of blood out of throats broken open, closes his eyes, feels wetness on his lashes, desperate hope and fear tangling together in his chest.

The trap door to the basement swings open, and Bennett just tries to breathe steady despite the gag. He wants to keep that hope, doesn't want to know just yet, is worried that the wrong side won, that he pulled his pack to their deaths.

"Fuck," mutters a familiar voice, just under their breath, and Bennett's eyes flash open to watch Jasmine, half way down the stairs, turn back and yell, "Found him!"

He nearly sobs in relief, and when she turns back to him her eyes go wide, rushing down towards him, "Hey, it's okay. We got you."

Austin comes swinging out of the small panel, landing with a thump onto the first stair and flying down them, Colby shortly behind him, if moving slower.

"Bennett," Austin breathes, relief evident in his voice, eyes wide, and there's blood soaking part of the collar of his shirt, but he doesn't seem to care. Bennett can't figure out if it's his own or not.

Austin's there in the next second, unknotting the gag from behind his head and pulling it out of his mouth. Bennett chokes on a sob the second he can breathe, adrenaline he could never use while he was tied down and listening to the fight draining out of his body, his emotions of stark relief catching in his throat as he tries to suck in air now that he can breathe easily, uninhibited.

"Austin," he says, the word nearly blocking up his throat once he manages to get it out, emotion catching him off balance.

"Hey, hey, easy there," Austin's hands come up to cup his cheeks, "Breathe slow now, no rush, you're safe."

Bennett closes his eyes, feels the wetness on his cheeks, the rawness in his throat.

"Get me out of here," he says, voice quiet, scratched out.

Austin kisses his closed eyelids. "As you say."

When they finally get him out of the silver cuffs, careful as they can be with it, his skin is raw and red where they'd been wrapped his wrists. He slumps to the ground, grateful to be able to sit, tries to stretch out the ache in his legs, and Austin sits next to him, quiet, holds one of his injured wrists cradled gently in his hands, trying to keep from touching where they'd been burned.

Bennett thinks he should ask about Austin's careful silence, but he's too tired to. The part of the pack down here with him doesn't say anything as he sits in the cellar, chilled by the concrete floor. They shift as he stands, looks around, takes in where he's been for weeks and will, hopefully, never see again.

He looks at Austin for a moment before he turns to Colby. "Let's go home," he says.

The pack takes him home, and his mom stands up from the counter as soon as they come in, eyes wide. She looks like she's seeing a ghost, too hopeful to believe it's actually real, but her eyes scan down him until they catch on his mangled wrists, and her face goes white, all the colour washing out.

"My child," she says in Japanese, voice soft, coming forward to unfold him into a hug.

"You'll be okay here?" Colby asks, laying a hand on his shoulder when his mother finally lets him go.

Bennett hesitates for a second before nodding. "I'll miss the packscent a bit, but I need to be home right now. I'll come by tomorrow?" he looks over at Colby for answer, and Colby nods decisively.

"Tomorrow," he says, and starts to leave, the rest of the pack that had accompanied them there trailing him out.

Except for Austin.

He's standing there, shuffling his feet, fidgeting with his hands and pushing them down his thighs like he can't figure out whether to put them in his pockets or not.

He looks up eventually, pins Bennett where he is. "Be safe," he says.

Bennett feels something shivery fill him, but he just nods. "I will," he pauses for a second, considering if he wants to say what he's thinking. "I'll call if I need you. Even if that's just... comfort, and not danger."

Austin's eyes go even softer, if that's possible. "Good," he says, and then backs up a step, eyes still on Bennett. "Good night," he tells him, before turning and leaving.

Bennett's mother pulls him in again, breathes soft into his hair, and he relaxes into her, buries his nose into the juncture of her throat and shoulder, scenting her. She usually hates that, berates him for acting uncivilized, but this time she just clutches him tighter.

He's not sure if his mother knows he needs the company, the closeness and protection, the feeling of being surrounded and the smell of family; he's not sure if she's just frightened at having nearly lost him, needs it herself. He crawls into her bed, his owns sheets smelling stale, and though he's hesitant, she pulls him in easy, curling around him.

"You're my son," she tells him, words sliding soft over the syllables of her own language, "I don't care if you're not all I am, if you're a wolf when it's not what I wanted you to be. That's about me more than it is you. You will always be my son."

He buries his face into her warmth, into her smell, enveloped in home and safe. He falls asleep peaceful for the first time since the night of the full moon.

He wakes up groggy, surprised at being warm, and breathes in deep, relaxing as he smells his mother, knows he's home. Remembers that he's safe.

He allows himself to wake up slowly, take his time, lets his mother baby him, cook him eggs for breakfast as he rubs the sand out of his sleepy eyes.

She kisses the top of his head when he's finishing up, more affectionate than most goodbyes, and wanders into the living room. He rinses off his plate, puts it in the dishwasher, and then shrugs on his jacket to go see Colby.

Colby's door is open as always, and Bennett doesn't bother to knock this time, knowing he's expected. He wanders in right away, stands in the entryway and breathes in deep, taking the packscent he's missed as deep into his lungs as he can get it. He knows there's no physical difference to the air, but there's something comforting about it, coming home after a long trip and finding things are the same as you left them.

He finds his way to the living room, stopping in surprise at the doorway, watching Austin pace the floor. Bennett hadn't expected him to be here.

"You can't rush him to get here, Austin," Colby says, lounging in an arm chair across the room, reading something Bennett can't see that's spread across his lap, steam curling lazily from the teacup resting on the end table at his elbow.

"Fuck," Austin hisses, turning on his heel again to stalk across the room, hands locked behind his back as he grips the fingers of one hand with the other, so tight the skin is nearly white.

"...Hello?" Bennett says, taking a hesitant step into the room, and Austin had been crossing back and forth in front of him, but he stops now, whirls to face Bennett, eyes wide.

"Good to see you," Colby says without even looking up, something slow and dry and drawling in his voice, like he's the only one in on a joke.

Bennett inclines his head, even if Colby isn't looking. "Alpha."

Colby does look up then, giving Bennett a small smile. "I know you're not set to be my predecessor, but you don't know how relieved I am to know you're alright."

Bennett shivers, thinks of that night under the moon, feeling pinned under burning silver, heavy and acid across his shoulders. "I'm relieved too," he says, quiet, more to himself than to the others in the room.

Colby's smile turns sad. "I can only imagine."

"We heard you," Austin interrupts, and when Bennett turns to look at him, there's less of that surprise, that restlessness in him; instead a layer of desperation hides under his eyes, and when he catches Bennett looking back, he steps forward. "When they caught you, we heard you call. We heard you and we looked for you and we found you." There's something in his eyes, in the seriousness of his voice and posture that says he's trying to convey something to Bennett that's written between the lines, only he can't be sure what it is.

"He's right," Colby says, closing the newspaper on his lap, standing gracefully to place it next to his cup. "You, your wolf - both of you knew the danger you were in. That you wouldn't be able to reach the pack physically. You called to our aid." He turns to Bennett, looking at him for a moment, silence pressing heavy in on the room. "It's difficult to do, howl like that, call the pack. It means a certain level of strength in your wolf, unity between you, a desperation of circumstances.

It might be stupid, but Bennett's already nearly died once, has stared down his end at the hands of men with the tools made to tear him apart, and his alpha hardly seems as frightening as before. "I'm not an alpha; I never will be."

Colby doesn't flinch, he doesn't hear bitterness in Bennett's voice like there would have been before, takes him at face value as Bennett meant the words. "You don't have to be," he says, steady. "You and your wolf can be in harmony with each other even while having trouble applying those instincts to others. You pay attention to your wolf, even if you disagree. You, specifically, can't apply those instincts and intuition and use it with dominance over others. It's your weakness."

Austin flinches, though Bennett doesn't. "I understand," he says, ignoring Austin, meeting Colby's eyes to show he means it.

Colby leans down slightly, and Bennett blinks, shocked that his alpha is displaying a submissive posture. Colby meets his eyes. "You were incredibly strong, I hope you know."

Bennett swallows the sudden emotion in his throat. "Thank you," he says, quiet.

Austin ushers himself up at his back, heat spilling strong off of him, pressing himself to Bennett. "You don't need to be an alpha."

Bennett resists the urge to look over his shoulder at him, knows it would put them too closely face to face. "I know that."

Austin seems to growl low in his throat. "It's not a falling out of your strength, it's not your fault they took you, it's not that you would have been safe as an alpha or if you were set to take over -"

"I know that," Bennett cuts him off, stepping away from him so he can turn around and face him. "Do you?"

Austin gets quiet suddenly. "I think so," he tells him, a near whisper.

"Do you know you couldn't have saved me either, even if you have the alpha dominance I don't?"

Austin's eyes cut to the side. Bennett knows he caught what this was really about.

"I was avoiding the pack on purpose," Bennett tells him, and Austin meets his eyes again, looking submissive and guilty still. "There's no possible way you could have protected me."

Austin's response is nearly just breath. "But I'm the reason you weren't with everyone else."

Bennett breathes deep, steadying himself, getting a lungful of Austin and packscent altogether. "You didn't do anything. It was my reaction, my choice. You didn't make me."

Austin still looks miserable. "But it was me. It was me and our wolves and I didn't trust your own decisions as much as I should have, even if they weren't allying with your instincts. I had to respect that. But I pushed you instead, and it drove you away and right to the hunters."

Bennett steps close, looks up at Austin, meeting his eyes but craning his neck just a bit too far on purpose, baring his throat. He lays a hand on Austin's arm, giving him the choice of contact. "There's no way you could have known."

"I know," Austin says, stepping straight into Bennett, dropping his head to rest his face in the side of Bennett's neck. "But how I am supposed to be alpha when I'm driving away my pack, believing my own instincts and choices more important than what they think?"

Bennett smooths a hand down his back. "You're learning. We just both wish it hadn't had to be so harsh to get the lesson."

Austin breathes deep. "Fuck, what's wrong with me. This isn't even about me, and you're comforting me." He pulls back from resting in Bennett's neck, and Bennett tries to smooth another hand down his back, wanting to keep him calm, but Austin tenses up instead and his mouth twists.

Bennett steps back then, getting a bit angry. "You don't get to determine what I need. You don't get to baby me and beat yourself up for not taking good enough care of me when you haven't even asked if I want help at all."

Austin deflates instantly, looking to the side as he clenches his jaw.

Colby steps in then. "We got rid of all the hunters. They won't be bothering us any longer." Bennett feels a shiver snake up his spine, has to shake it off. Of course not, he remembers climbing out of the basement to the metallic smell of blood thick in his nose, but he couldn't bear to look. He knew that was what it took to get him out, to end the threat. "I can't guarantee that there won't be other hunters alerted by the missing presence of these ones, but I doubt it. Hunters generally work in fairly small and isolated groups."

"There better not be any fucking others," Austin growls.

Colby cuts a look at him, "If there are, likeliness is that you'll be alpha by the time they come around, if none come as a direct response of this."

Bennett can feel himself shrinking. Fuck, in saving him did he just lead the danger right back to his pack? Did he put them all under threat?

Colby looks at him for a split second, almost like he's just checking in while dealing with Austin, most of his focus elsewhere, but he does a double take when he catches Bennett's expression. "Hey," he says, voice soft, and Bennett knows he means to be comforting but feels awful immediately, a child needing to be swaddled. He places his hands on Bennett's shoulders. "You're safe, I promise you that. You're safe now. We got you back to the pack and hunters will never touch you again."

Austin's at his back immediately, hands pressed to Bennett's ribs, nosing at his hairline. Bennett feels himself shudder, knowing Austin's got his mouth so close to Bennett's nape, making him the one in the vulnerable position. He hates it immediately - not for the implication, or the act itself, but that Austin doesn't ask, that he sees Bennett home safe and sound and needs to calm his wolf by letting it all over him, covering Bennett with them. He feels like he gets no say in the matter, that Austin doesn't think it might not be want he needs or even wants, and he shrugs him off, not bothering to look back even as he can feel Austin back away, stung.

He tries to shrug Colby's hands off too, but Colby just grips tighter. "Do you understand?"

"I could have fucking led them right back," Bennett bites, not even caring that he's practically snarling right into his alpha's face, basically demanding punishment. Maybe he's hoping for it. "Right back to the pack, to all of us."

Colby blinks at him, grip slackening for just a split second before his face goes serious. "We are a group. We are a pack. We are united. We have strength together they do not."

"I risked all of you," Bennett says, near whisper, words choked.

"We risked ourselves to get you back," Colby argues. "And we would do it again. You hold no fault, you hear me?"

Bennett ducks his head, and Colby sighs, brushes one hand up to cup his neck, thumb at his hairline, before letting Bennett go. It does calm him a bit, that feeling of his alpha assuring his control.

"Get some rest," Colby tells him, hushed, but it's still not a command, and Bennett's grateful.

He doesn't look Austin in the eye on the way out.

Bennett wakes up late again the next day, stirring a bowl of cereal and seriously considering going back upstairs to nap and catch up on the ridiculous amount of rest he's behind on, either from the discomfort of his captivity or the adrenaline response of it, when the doorbell rings.

He opens the door, rubbing his still groggy eyes, only to blink at drop his hands when he sees who's there.

"Surprise!" Alison calls, ushering him in the door, and the rest of the group sneaks in behind her before Jasmine closes the door behind her.

"What." It's all Bennett can come up with.

"We missed you," Bridget says, coming up to warp her arms over Bennett's shoulder in a hug, nuzzling herself into him, small and submissive even though she's taller than he is. "We can only imagine how much you missed all of the pack."

"We're prescribing a puppy pile," Jasmine tells him, hands on her hips, and Bennett only blinks. Bridget lets him go, only for Luc to grab him by the arm and bully him onto his couch, the rest of his friends piling in around him. Jasmine pulls his head to rest in her lap, and he tenses for only a moment before she smooths a palm down his back, leans over to let her hair spill forward and shower her scent down over him. Luc pulls Bennett's legs onto his lap, Cooper on his other side keeping a hand wrapped around his ankle, like he wants the contact without being overwhelming.

Bridget pulls a blanket and some pillows off the other couch, lays them down at the foot of the couch they're all on and lies down, pulls Bennett's arm off the edge of the couch to hold his hand. Alison lays a kiss to his forehead, bares her throat to him for just a second before she curls up with Bridget on the floor.

He closes his eyes, breathes in deep, easily able to sense where each of them are him, their scent and touch and heat readily there, even beneath that thrumming sense of comfort and safety and pack.

Jasmine palms over his head, pushing his hair back in a smoothing gesture, carefully avoiding touching his neck. He heaves a deep sigh out, and drifts off.

His mother is home by the time he wakes up, sitting at the kitchen counter, and she glances over to check on them, sees that Bennett's awake.

She doesn't say anything but "are they staying for dinner?"

He doesn't know. He wakes Jasmine up to ask.

A rotation of pack members come by his house over the next week, checking on him, letting him know they are still pack even if they've never been close to him, old or young. He blinks and thanks them all, trying to hide his discomfort.

Austin comes around last.

Bennett's exhausted of the routine by the time the doorbell rings again, and his mom doesn't even look up from her newspaper.

He opens the door, only to blink in surprise, his grip on the doorknob tightening to stiffness.

"Hi," Austin says, awkward, shuffling his feet. He seems to know he's on Bennett's doorstep, but doesn't know how to explain why.

"Hi," he replies, words bitten off, more with awkwardness than upset. He's not quite as sure how to feel about Austin, now that he's not going in the full opposite direction of whatever instincts his wolf's throwing out in all directions. His wolf is quiet now, and while that's worrying to Bennett, he's not sure what else there is to do.

"Can I come in for a moment?" Austin asks, gesturing passed Bennett to the space between him and the door frame.

"I -" Bennett hesitates, before he pulls aside. "Yeah."

Austin looks even more nervous, ducking passed Bennett through the doorway, standing in his entryway as Bennett closes the door. He ends up looking like his body is too big for him, not knowing how to hold his gangly limbs in, hunching down his height, hands pressed to his thighs.

"You wanted something?" Bennett asks.

"Yeah. Can we - somewhere else?" Austin gestures behind him.

Bennett tucks some hair behind his ear. "Yeah."

Austin follows him into his house, and his mother looks up when he passes her, but he just tells her "I need to speak with him," and she nods, folds up her newspaper and leaves.

Bennett turns to face Austin. "Go ahead."

Austin blinks at his mother's retreating back, before he turns back to Bennett. "I'm... look, you obviously know I have stronger instincts than normal. My wolf knows you'll be pack, wants to protect you, knows its more dominant, and it tried to act that way when we got you back for reassurance. I was ignoring you, and I'm sorry."

Bennett shrugs, uncomfortable, the motion limited and tense. "You said something similar at Colby's."

"And then I turned around and did it again," Austin insists. He hesitates a second, and Bennett can't figure out why, until Austin meets his eyes, purposefully lowers them, bends his knees and cranes his neck back to expose his throat.

It's implicitly submissive behaviour, basically everything to show it besides Austin rolling on his back and displaying his belly, and even though Bennett's wolf has been practically dormant, he feels a roll of heat through him. Come to think of it, he's not even sure if that's more his or wolf or him.

He gasps aloud, and Austin's eyes flicker up a second to gauge him, to check that he's okay and not displeased. He drops his eyes immediately after, but his nostrils flare, like he's confirming what he saw, and Bennett can hear a strange, strangled, high sound catch in his throat.

It almost sounds like it could be a whine, but that doesn't make sense.

Austin is much more dominant than him, no contest, and he should be closer to his wolf being pleased and acting like a puppy if Bennett were submitting to him, not the other way around.

Bennett licks dry lips, stretches his hand out, hesitant, and Austin takes in a deep breath, seems to hold it, but doesn't pull away. Bennett places his hand on the back of Austin's neck.

Austin lets out a huff of breath through his nose, drops his head forward and closes his eyes. Bennett twists his fingers into the hair at the back of Austin's neck for a moment, grounding them both. Austin's breathing heavy, but he's not moving away, and Bennett can't figure out if he likes this or if he's doing this because he's believes it's penance, will make his own actions even.

Bennett can't stand the idea of that, knows Austin wouldn't admit to it if that was the reason, so he lets go, but he can't resist trailing his fingertips down where he knows the knobs in his spine to be, a gentle touch as he pulls away.

Austin raises his head again after, breathes steady as though letting himself readjust before he opens his eyes. Bennett expects them to be amber with his wolf, but instead they're blue as his human side is, pupils round and slowly contracting with peace and the light of the room.

"Oh," Austin says, quiet.

"I'm - did you come in planning that?" Bennett asks, awkward.

Austin shakes his head, rakes hair back and away from his face. "No, I just had an apology, but I uh- it seemed to be right in the moment, sort of."

Bennett breathes heavy through his nose, trying to calm himself, but he only ends up bringing Austin's scent in deeper. "Okay. I - okay."

Austin doesn't look any more balanced than Bennett. He licks his lips, still staring at Bennett, and for a second Bennett forgets the hierarchical meaning behind eye contact, just takes in Austin, takes in his face and expression and the perfect lake of blue around the center his pupil makes, before he remembers himself and drops his eyes.

Bennett clears his throat. "Did Colby say anything about wanting me back for your lessons?"

Austin catches the conversation switching train tracks. "I think he wanted to give you time to readjust, was waiting for you to come to him. Do you want me to ask?"

Bennett nods, still looking at the tile beneath his feet. "Yes."

"Okay, I'll - When I see him, I'll ask."

Bennett doesn't say anything, hunches his shoulders a bit more in acquiescence, and he can feel Austin's awkwardness and displeasure, that he was asking Bennett and not telling him and he's unhappy that Bennett's treating it that way.

"I'll see you," Austin tells him.

Bennett flickers a glance up. "Yeah."

He lets Austin out, and even with his wolf unsettlingly quiet, he can still feel Austin's smell lingering strong in his nostrils.

For the first time in years his mom drives him to meet up with the pack on the full moon, pulls into the parking lot where the pack is congregated, spread around the tarmac. Some members look up, tensed at the unfamiliar sight and smell of the car, but relax when they catch that it's him.

Bennett goes to climb out as soon as they're stopped, but his mom halts him with a hand on his arm for a moment, and Bennett looks over in surprise. She pulls him in, gentle, kisses the side of his head. "Be safe," she tells him.

He can feel emotion pulling taut in his chest, just nods, mute, unsure what to say. His mother doesn't seem to expect anything though, lets him go, and Bennett slides out of the car, something squirming under his skin that he can't pin down as either positive or negative. He glances back once as she drives away.

Colby nods to him when he sees him, Austin's standing next to him, and his eyes flicker over to see Bennett, and he blinks, looking like he's surprised, but his eyes flash wolf yellow for just a moment.

Bennett walks passed him, goes over to Bridget, taps her on the shoulder. She looks over at him in curiosity. "Did your brother drive you?" she nods. "Can I keep my clothes with you guys?"

Bridget smiles, nodding.

Bennett sheds his clothes, folds them to lay in the backseat of Daniel's car. He pulls his hair out of his face with one hand and watches the sky, sees the moon fat and full nearly at the arc of the sky, light cutting through the thin mist and highlighting the dusky night sky, making obvious the edges of the sparse cloud cover framing it.

He closes his eyes, waits for the thrum of anticipation under skin, the drop into his shift, but when he focuses, he can barely feel the moon at all, can't reach his wolf, buried deep and sleeping.

It shouldn't be. It should be wide awake, aware - restless even.

Instead, Bennett is the one restless, anxious, and he opens his eyes again, stares at the sky, furrows his brow, as though just wondering at why his instincts don't match to his sight will make it align the way he knows is right, from his whole experience, from the feeling in his bones.

"Shift's close," Colby says, looking at the moon, and Bennett can feel a shiver race over his skin, because he can't feel it.

His wolf is dead asleep, and Bennett almost feels like crying, has had it as a part of himself, synonymous and mutual, both of them part of one being in separate parts, and now he's been left alone. He didn't realize how much they were together, how much of him was his wolf, and now he's worried it'll never come back, that he's forever changed, that it's not just that his wolf is rattled from everything with the hunters.

The hunters. Goosebumps raise on Bennett's arms, and he looks to Austin, wanting to convey what he thinks he's realized, and he only just catches eyes with him before he can feel his whole body twist under him, and pain rips through him completely.

He screams, and it comes out of his throat unhuman, and he thrashes on the ground, can feel his body trying to change under the moon but unable to, and he arches his body, claws at the ground beneath him, because his body knows. He has always been this, had his wolf, and the change is a part of him, but the human part of him can't reach the wolf. His body knows the way it is right now is wrong but can't be fixed.

Bennett's vaguely aware of other wolves coming to surround him in his agony, and he's still screaming, throat raw, but when he pauses long enough to rip in more breath he can hear someone whining, thinks maybe it's Bridget, can't smell as well in this form but even if he could, he's in fair too much pain to pay attention to anything but the acid in his veins for very long.

"Bennett, Bennett," he hears, voice breathless and scared, and then there are wide hands turning him over, putting him on his back, and he screws his face up, locks his jaw so tightly it aches, but it's barely anything over how he feels in every part of his body.

"Ben, Ben, look at me." There are hands on his face, warm, and Bennett dimly realizes that he's been crying when his head is turned by their grip.

He sees Austin's face above him, blurry through the way his eyes are tearing, and Austin looks terrified, brushes his fingers over Bennett's cheek. His voice shakes when he speaks, "Talk to me, okay? What's happening?"

Another wave of agony races through his body, and Bennett screams before he can reply, back arching off the ground, and Austin scrambles to cover him, cradles his head so he doesn't it slam it back against the ground.

"What's happening, what's happening, is he okay?" Austin's saying, voice scratched out and frantic.

Colby replies, "Keep calm." He must kneel next to Austin then, or have already been there, because he turns Bennett to him, looks into his eyes, flashes them to show his wolf, entire posture dominant and just on the edge of wild. Bennett's in complete pain, but even then, it's hard to ignore his alpha when everything about him is saying pay attention, look at me.

"Shift," he commands, and Bennett can feel his wolf screaming to life beneath his skin, but it slams up against some kind of wall, howling and gone mad with wildness, knows the moon and pack and alpha, but is unable to come out.

Bennett screams louder if possible, rolls himself violently out of Colby's grip, needs away, and Austin grabs at him immediately, pulls him close, tries to shush and soothe him, but he can't do anything.

"Fuck, fuck," Austin's saying.

"I don't know what's wrong," Colby says, and now there's worry creeping into his voice. His alpha shouldn't sound like that, Bennett's wolf starts adding to his own panic, not just desperation to be free coming from it, but now fear.

"Austin," Bennett chokes out, and he has Austin's attention immediately, his hands cradling Bennett's face again, turning his face towards him, eyes wide.

"Yes?" Austin asks, voice gentler than Bennett thought he could manage under circumstances.

Bennett can feel the pain cresting in him, tries to hold it back long enough to get out what he needs to say. "Hunters. Silver."

Austin's eyes go wide, and Bennett knows he understands, could cry in relief that even if he's hated Austin, let his bitterness and jealousy rule him, Austin still knows him well enough to listen and understand.

He cries out again, writhes, and Austin runs his hands down his body as goes through it, murmuring to him, reassuring him as the pain makes Bennett's breath catch on sobs.

"The hunter's silver did something to his wolf," Austin's saying to Colby. "I don't know if his wolf's not there or if the silver's preventing his shift, but there's definitely something wrong."

"His wolf's there," Colby says. "Mine can feel it, knows where the pack is as alpha. It's why I tried to call it to the surface, but you must be right when it only seemed to make things worse."

"What do we do?" Austin asks, breathless.

"I don't know how to get a wolf to the surface when it's buried like this," Colby says, frustrated.

"Claimings bring the wolf the closest to the surface that they ever get outside of the full moon, right?" Austin asks, voice desperate. "What if he was claimed on the full moon?"

"I am not trading him to another pack," Colby growls.

"I know," Austin replies, but he's breathless, and Bennett can hear the hope in his voice as he pants into Austin's leg. "But you already have someone you intend to be your alpha. What does it matter if one pack member gets claimed early?"

Colby's quiet for only a moment, and when he speaks, there's steel determination in his voice. "Do it."

Austin lets out a noisy breath, audible over what is now Bennett's quiet crying, the pain still there only he's too exhausted to scream.

Austin helps him up so he can look him in the eye again. "Ben, I'm going to -"

"I heard," Bennett gasps, because he can't wait for Austin to explain through the pain. He wants to say Do it, Austin, please, but there's just one more thing. He lets his head flop to the side, meets Colby's eyes. "Can we have - alone?" he tries, still breathless, closes his eyes and shudders, sobbing, as his body burns again.

"Yes," Colby tells him when the wave settles again, stands only to shift into his wolf, throws his head up to howl to the moon before turning and running into the woods. The pack follows him, even as the ones Bennett recognizes as his friends lag behind for just a moment before going too, the dark wolves Bennett knows as Bridget and Jasmine brushing along his side before taking off.

"What?" Austin asks, able to catch on that there's something making Bennett hesitant, not just that he wants privacy for a claim, even if it is something that is usually just between the alpha and the new pack member.

"You know," Bennett starts, arranging his words carefully, because it's harder to find them when he's like this. Even if his wolf has quieted, the moon still burns in his blood. "You know what our wolves are like, how they're connected, what that means." Bennett swallows, he's been denying this extensively, but he's known for a long time, and Bennett's been studying about wolves and pack for even longer. He can't let Austin go into this without knowing what it means. "You claim me, it'll mate us too. There's no coming back from that."

Austin frowns, cups Bennett's cheek again, runs his thumb gently over the cheekbone. "I'm willing to do that."

"There's no divorce in mates," Bennett snaps. "We do this, it's forever."

Austin lets out a slow breath. "I know that."

"You don't have to sacrifice that for me -"

"You're in pain -"

As if to punctuate that, Bennett can the feel need to change pulsing through him, clenches his teeth around a scream.

When he comes around, Austin's staring at him, distressed, and Bennett can't take that the only reason he'd be tying them together in this way is because he wants to be able to fix Bennett.

"You wouldn't be getting anything out of this," he says, nearly choked. He can feel the pull of the moon stretching his bones, wants to shift but can remember the feeling of not being able to.

"I'd get a powerful mate, more secure placing of my territory," Austin says, taking his hand from Bennett's face and instead rubbing his hands up and down Bennett's arms, though Bennett can't tell if he means it for comfort or warmth.

Bennett laughs, but it's dry, broken and cracked. "That's hardly anything."

"You'd be surprised," Austin says. "You're the one that's been trained this entire time, that knows how to be an alpha, that knows the intricacies and the rules. I -" His breath gets caught in his throat for a moment. "I barely know anything."

"You're a natural leader," Bennett tells him, disbelieving.

"I'm leaning on my wolf to get me position," Austin counters, no anger. He's not arguing, just correcting. "Me? I'm not a leader yet, I'm just a teenager. You're the one who has leadership naturally - not that your wolf is made to be an alpha, but you, Bennett. Who you are as a person." He pauses a second, eyes raking over Bennett's face like the tender, gentle touch of a lover's hands. "I could give this to you."

"You don't owe me," Bennett says, broken.

"I want to," Austin tells him. "I know maybe we're not ready for this yet, but I know that we would be, eventually. We have that pull to each other, and we would have eventually followed to the end of that pull, even if we've been too stubborn to listen. If it's something we'd do eventually, why would we wait when bonding now could help you?"

Bennett stares at him for a moment, gauges that Austin's telling the truth. Then, deliberately, he turns his head to the side, baring his neck.

His wolf squirms under his skin, reacting to the unquestionably submissive body language he's giving off. Austin leans in, exhales to steady himself, and then bites down on Bennett's neck, breaking the skin.

Bennett can feel the surge in his wolf, can feel himself immediately get overwhelmed by instinct, the wild and feral taking over all of him.

He can feel his wolf come forward, meld together with him, and he can feel both parts of himself, wolf and man, connect to Austin.

When he surfaces from that, breathes steady, he can feel his wolf in every beat of his heart, the two of them one. He gives himself a second to take it in, blinks before focusing and looking at Austin.

Austin's staring at his hands, gently runs one finger down his other hand, from middle finger, into the dip of palm and following the life line. His expression is broken open and raw, eyes wide, as if in awe.

He looks up at Bennett, and says, voice quiet with something like disbelief. "I can feel you. I can feel you as my pack. I - my instincts are so much more, even the wolf part of me knows you're mine, and it's - I feel like I can sense everything."

Bennett smiles at him, crawls forward, and he's always been able to look Austin in the eye, young pack member dynamics too fluid for them to be limited by a dominance hierarchy, for their behaviour towards others to always be ruled. But it's different now, Bennett can feel how they're been made equal, can look Austin in the eye like he's not trying to prove himself, not trying to elevate or keep status, but just look at him as is, see his face and his blue eyes and the dark blond slope of his eyebrows. Austin looks back at him, something close to happiness that he can't contain enough to keep it from pulling at his mouth just a little. He notices Bennett coming towards him, but instead of hugging him like Bennett expects, he lowers himself down, lies on his belly, baring the back of his neck.

Bennett can feel his breath catch in his throat, because here is Austin proving to him that even if Austin is an alpha, born to be, has even more dominance than Bennett despite that they're now both alphas of a pack that is just them, that doesn't define them. He's telling Bennett he doesn't expect that, that it won't be a normal dynamic for Austin to always be more dominant, that Austin wants to feel safe and submit to Bennett if no one else, even if more regularly or just as equally does Bennett submit to him as well.

He's making a promise, that there's nothing he would ask of Bennett to do for him that he wouldn't also being willing to do in return.

Bennett leans down, noses at the nape of Austin's neck, feels him shiver, breathe evenly to steady himself. He waits just a moment, breathes over the skin to give Austin time to adjust, and then he opens his mouth wide, bites down.

It's not something that's needed, not like Austin's claiming, the stark meaning behind it, connecting them as mates and pack and alphas.

This is something just for them, and to him, it's just as significant. He can tell for Austin it's the same.

When Bennett shifts, it's as smooth as flowing water.