@xkeirc
Goddammit.
Costa used to be good with his hands, back when things used to be simple. He missed the days when a set of standard tools could fix everything that needed fixing. He was a wolf caught between wishing for the days when his life had been so clear cut, one purpose, one allegiance, one pack, and the current time now, where everything was so much more gray, but brimming with possibilities. He could go out openly with men, practice his own career, and cultivate his own interests. Constantine Kattalakis could be his own person, but sometimes he wasnât entirely sure who that was.
And still, above all, his first loyalty was to his brother and pack. Which was why after trying to arrange a date for the following weekend, clocking out his shift at the hospital, and playing an online poker game while eating a fast food dinner, he was on his way home. It was dark, then, the light of the moon filtered through the branches of the trees that towered over the road he rode his bicycle down. The light was bright - and soon it would be time for him to shift. But not tonight, not when he had other things to worry about, such as the hissing sound that alerted him to a flattening tire.
âAw, shit,â he said aloud, hopping off his bike. âGoddammit.â It was miles to his place. He could walk there easily, but it would take time, and...he wouldnât admit it, but the sight of Nala Malraux haunted him, an alpha wolf brought to her knees and slaughtered. If someone could do that to an alpha, what could they do to a beta? He was frightened, and he hadnât been so in a long time.
Which was why when the sound of an engine roaring down the road alerted him, he looked over quickly, heartbeat picking up. Then, around the corner, emerged the motorcycleâs headlight, and, as it stopped some distance away from him, so did a figure that drew itself off the bike and stood in the darkness, one he couldnât quite make out when he was half blinded by the beam of light before him.
Constantine cleared his throat. A wolf never showed his belly, and he wouldnât now, even as he was aware of all the potential ways he could be ambushed and killed.
âKinda late to be out, huh? Guess itâs my lucky night. Know anything about fixing a tire? Or do you have anything to help out?â











