Arthur

“I have to do what?” Simon shouted while following me around the bedroom. “What did you do, Art?”

“I got Derrek’s guitar back.” I tossed an empty suitcase on the bed before neatly folding and stacking outfits into it.

“The mayor had it this whole time?” He plopped down on our ugly brown couch. “That guy’s had it in fer me since we moved here, and now you’ve gone and signed my life away.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s housework in a mansion, not breaking stones in a gulag. You can stand to do a little more than just eat, sleep and fuck.”

“But that’s the golden trinity! That’s the perfect life, and it’s all I wanna do.”

I grabbed more clothes from the dresser. “Well now you can do it all in a maid’s outfit.”

“He ain’t gonna make me wear one of them frilly black and white dresses is he?”

An involuntary snort left my nose when I thought of him crammed into one of those. “Dude.”

“I’m serious. I could make it work, with the right alterations.”

I stopped packing and looked back at the shitty grin he wore.

“Don’t ever wear one of those in this bedroom. I’ll never be able to have sex with you again.”

“You could wear one. Shit, I’m gettin’ hard just thinkin’ about it.”

The front door slammed open, and a pair of rapid, clawed footsteps raced through the house. 

“Art!”

“In the bedroom,” I shouted as Adam ran in. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh man, if I’m right about this, Austin’s gonna freak the fuck out.” He handed his phone to me. “Look.”

I scrolled through an app with a bunch of pictures of three werewolves in different place. One had them posing in front of the Matterhorn in Switzerland, and another had them relaxing on the beach of White Dunes. 

“What am I looking at?”

“It’s a new social media app for werewolves called ‘The Fuzz’.”

I handed the phone back. “You know I hate this stuff. I never even logged into the TikTok account you set up for me a couple months ago.”

“No, look at these guys,” he said, sitting on the bed before pulling me down next to him. “I think these were Austin’s packmates in the marines.”

“What?” I snatched the phone away from him this time. “You’re sure about that? I thought they died!”

“Shhhh,” Adam covered my mouth with his hand. “I don’t want Austin to hear.”

“You saw ‘em in yer visions?” Simon asked. 

Adam nodded. “Randall, Steve, and Blake. They’re alive and apparently doing pretty well for werewolves.”

“I don’t understand. Why does Austin think they’re dead?” I asked. 

“He assumed they were. A couple soldiers threw their dog tags in the trash, and kept hinting that something bad happened. But they also mentioned being contaminated, which may be why they threw the tags away—not because the werewolves were dead. Austin never saw their bodies either. He tried to break into the building, but it was too secure. He ended up assuming the worst and got the fuck out of there.”

Simon’s tail thudded against the bed. “Where are they livin’ now?”

“I don’t know. They don’t really live anywhere. They just travel to different places, stowing away or hitch hiking. They’ve even got a channel where they record themselves hopping on freight trains like hobos.” Adam scrolled back up to the top of the app and clicked his profile. “I’m going to send them a message with Austin’s picture and see if they recognize him. I’m like ninety-nine percent sure it’s them.”

“It’s been quite a few years. Hopefully they haven’t forgotten him,” I said, snapping my suitcase shut. 

“Nah,” Simon chimed in. “If they were as close as Austin said, they’re probably searchin’ the whole world for him and haven’t stopped. Packmates have a really strong bond.” That time Simon’s tone turned melancholy, cracking beneath his excitement.  

“I sent the message,” Adam said, turning off the screen before looking up. “Now we wait.”

The moment he said it, the phone vibrated again and again. 

---

Thanksgiving was tomorrow, but today we’d begin our long road trip to White Dunes. Willa and Mosavi were coming with us, which meant we’d be traveling by limo. Simon sat on the living room sofa with a sour look on his face, his fur still puffy from all the blow-drying earlier. 

“Don’t look at me like that. Mosavi’s not letting you into his limo smelling like butt crack.”

“I didn’t smell like butt crack,” Simon muttered. “I like my smell. Now I look stupid.”

“I’ll brush you in a bit. Oh! I’ve got a cute bandana with a bunch of little bones on it.” 

“Ha ha.” Simon looked away from me. “Puttin’ me in that harness was mean, and when the hell did Adam get so strong?”

I picked up a wide wire brush and began running it through his fur. “I love this. You’re so soft, you smell good, and you’re handsome.” 

“I look like a pomeranian.” 

“You’ll look great when I’m done, and you’re more chow chow than pomeranian.”

The bathroom door opened, and Adam pulled Austin into the living room by the hand. The huge werewolf’s fur was just as puffy and unruly as Simon’s, and he had the same disgruntled expression. His ears were low, his tail tucked, and we could all see the whites of his eyes. 

“Can I get that brush when you’re done?” Adam wrapped his arms around Austin, his head sinking into thick chest fluff. “This is nice,” he said, his voice muffled. Austin’s demeanor shifted as his ears pointed back up and his tail swayed. 

“He got you with the harness, didn’t he?” Simon asked.

The sad-looking werewolf nodded. 

“How’d he get you?” He shoved my arm. “This one promised me sex and breakfast in bed.”

The larger werewolf let out a sigh. 

“Sex and breakfast,” he muttered. 

“You guys are just evil.” Simon scooted away, snatching the brush from my hand before pointing it at Austin. “Look at that face. That’s a broken werewolf right there. Promised food and fuckin’ and got double-crossed by two evil twinks.”

“Don’t call me that,” Adam and I snapped in unison as I grabbed the brush again. 

“I’m telling you, Simon, Mosavi would not let you into his limo smelling like that. It was either I give you a bath, or he does—and I can almost guarantee you wouldn’t have any fur left if he did it.”

Simon swallowed hard. 

“And I only used the harness because you always put up a fight, and I’m not using elder magic on my pack anymore.”

“I am like three times yer age, mister. I am gonna get back at you one of these days.” He leaned in close to my ear. “I can give you a shower too.”

“Simon…” I felt my lower lip curl into my sharper canines. “If you even think about doing that again, I could have Mosavi make your life even more miserable than he’s already going to.”

“Alright alright.” Simon pouted, turning away as I continued grooming him. 

When I was finished, I handed the brush to Adam before leaning in close to Simon. “Who’s my handsome boy?”

Simon wrinkled his nose; however, his tail always gave him away as it thudded the cushion behind him.

“Come on. Who’s my handsome boy?”

“It’s me,” he said in a quiet, low voice. “I really don’t like you right now.”

“Is he bringing the guitar?” Austin asked, this time stringing more than a few words together. 

“Yeah,” I replied, looking out the window. It was a quarter to nine, and they would be outside of our house within the hour. “Mosavi insisted on hearing Derrek play it.”

“Wonder what he’s gonna say when he gets it back,” Simon said. “I’ve been lookin’ for that damn thing for years. I still don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I brushed a few locks of Simon’s mane away from his eyes. “He forgave you already.”

“He still doesn’t like me. Nothin’ will ever be the way it was between us. That wasn’t just me fuckin’ up, Art. That was me burnin’ a friendship to ashes, all for a high that wouldn’t even last the night.”

“Whatever happens, this is the right thing. It’ll be up to Derrek after that,” I said. 

“He used to be so carefree. We’d get stoned, and he’d go out and ride the waves or play his guitar. He smiled all the time, but now he ain’t not the same. He’s…cautious now, and downright mean and violent sometimes. Returning his dad’s guitar ain’t gonna bring back the old Derrek.”

“You’re right,” Austin said as we all turned to him. “He’ll never be his old self again, and that’s not always a bad thing.”

---

The stretch limo pulled to the side of the street in front of our house, and before the driver could open the door, Willa hopped out holding an entire pie tin in her hand wrapped in foil. Mosavi called after her, smacking his head as he emerged. The driver backed away as the old werewolf snarled and cursed in Farsi. 

“Oh he does not look happy,” Adam said, grabbing his bag. 

“When does he ever,” Simon cut in before opening the front door just as Willa climbed the steps. “Is that pumpkin pie?”

“It sure is,” she said, patting Simon’s stomach before handing him the dish.

He turned and glared at me. “I bet she wouldn’t tie me up and force me to bathe.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t tie him up, would you?” I asked, giving her a knowing grin. Simon was going to be witnessing her depravity first-hand soon enough. 

Simon froze as he was cutting a slice of pie with the claw on his index finger.

“What was that look?” he asked. 

“Enjoy the pie,” Willa responded, giving Simon a wicked smile. 

The werewolf picked up the slice and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, slowly chewing while eying us suspiciously. 

“Hurry up,” Mosavi said, pointing to the raised trunk of the limo. “Let’s not make loading the car an all-day event.”

“And how are you today?” I asked, tossing my suitcase into the trunk.

“Looking forward to our two nights a week,” he muttered. 

“That’s if you don’t like Derrek’s performance.”

“I won’t.” He climbed back into the car, but Willa smacked his rear end hard with the palm of her hand causing him to yelp. 

“He’s not keen on road trips,” she said, lowering her voice. “If I roll down the window, he’ll stick his head out with his mouth open. It’s really cute. He can’t help it.”

“Oh my God, I have to see this,” I said as we both broke into more laughter.

“Let’s go,” Mosavi shouted from inside. 

---

Even though it was late November, the breeze blowing in from the ocean was warm and slightly tepid. Mosavi and Willa dropped Simon and I off at Derrek’s while they and the others made their way to the Marriott further up the shore. As amazing as it would have been to stay in the presidential suite, I wanted to spend my time here. 

We were preparing ourselves emotionally for what was going to happen over the next day. Austin was unaware of what Adam had planned, but tonight was all about Simon and Derrek. I expected him to be overjoyed, but with how fragile their friendship was, it could go in any direction. That guitar could pull the scabs off of healing wounds, but I had to trust that whatever happened, things would get better. 

It was around four in the afternoon, and Derrek was high on his lifeguard chair in the distance. Simon gripped the handle of the black guitar case, his posture stiff as we climbed the steps of the deck. 

“Relax,” I said, gently stroking Simon’s back. “It’s all gonna work out.”

“If he still doesn’t like me after this, then I’ll know where I stand.”

“Derrek is complicated. You know that more than anyone.” I opened the door and sat my suitcase by that awful hammock I’d fallen out of countless times during my stay here. “That night you were desperate. That’s what addiction does.”

“It was still my choice. The pills didn’t buy themselves, and that guitar didn’t grow legs and walk away.” He looked down at the case. “I won’t be able to breathe right until this thing is in his hands.”

I glanced out the window at a now empty lifeguard chair. 

“I think he caught our scent.” I opened the front door again, scanning the beach to see if Derrek was anywhere close, but he was gone. “You should meet him on the beach and give it to him. I’ll stay here.” 

“Give what to me?” Derrek asked, startling us both as he seemed to almost materialize on the other side of the door. For someone so huge, he sure knew how to stay hidden. “I thought I’d be spending Thanksgiving by myself this year.” 

I stepped out onto the deck and wrapped my arms around him. Derrek’s fur always smelled fresh and briny, and he was slightly damp, the sea water soaking through my black shirt. 

“It’s really good to see you again.” Remembering those visions made me an emotional wreck while I held him close. Seeing him now was even more significant than before, especially since I saw first-hand the role he played in shaping our lives. The weird thing was, he had no clue.

“Alright, what’s going on? Who died?”

“Huh?” I asked, but he held his thumb to my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “Oh, I’m just happy to see you again.” 

“It’s been less than a month. What’s going on?” He looked over at Simon, who was still partially hidden behind the door. “What are you doing? You both are acting suspicious.”

Simon cleared his throat and took a step onto the deck. “I uh…I got somethin’ for ya.”

“Hopefully it’s a four course meal. I’m starving.”

Simon slowly crept out into the open before letting the door fall against the frame. He held the guitar case in his hand while locking eyes with the larger werewolf. 

“I’ve been lookin’ fer this thing for years, but Art found it.”

Derrek stiffened, his breathing growing heavier as he stood there, seemingly in shock. 

“I’m so sorry,” Simon whispered, tears now pouring from his eyes. He seemed to crumble while gauging Derrek’s reaction. “I know nothin’ I ever do will make it up to you, but just knowin’ you got a piece of yer dad back will be enough fer me.”

The huge werewolf took a few steps toward Simon, extending a trembling right hand to grab the handle. He sat the case flat on the spool table before lifting the latches. Slowly, he pulled it open before breaking. 

“Derrek?” I asked, stepping close to him as he hovered over the instrument, sobbing in deep grunts. 

He turned and scooped me into his arms before dragging Simon in close, burying his nose into the crook of his neck. 

“I forgave you a long time ago, Simon,” Derrek whispered. “I thought you didn’t care about me. I was there as a way to score easy drugs, but when I cooled down, I remembered what you did. You could have used the money you gave me, but you were trying to get clean, and you didn’t want me to fall into that life. I was more important to you than the drugs were.”

He let us go and wiped his eyes with the back of his arm. 

“When you came back with Art, I knew you rescued another half-turn, just like you did me all those years ago. You made a bad mistake, and it took me a while to understand that. I never hated you; I was just really angry.” He pressed his forehead into Simon’s. “I love you. You’ll always be my packmate.” He turned to me. “And you!” His tears turned to laughter. “You’re worth a lot more than this guitar ever was. I knew that when I met you.”

“Now you’re just being sappy,” I said, sitting down on one of the plastic chairs surrounding the wooden spool table. 

“Yeah, but I mean it. How did you even know what Dad’s guitar looked like?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, pointing to the cooler. “How about I tell it over some beers?”

“You drink beer now?” Derrek asked, cracking open the container before tossing me a bottle. 

“Nope, it’s still gross, but tonight I’ll make an exception.”

---

The beach was empty except for six of us gathered around the bonfire while Simon was hard at work on Thanksgiving dinner in Derrek’s kitchen. All of the scents of food and flames filled the air as Derrek began playing his father’s guitar. There was something almost magical about the way he played now, like he was complete. 

The giant beach wolf swayed from side-to-side as his fingers nimbly traced the strings along the neck, the pointer and thumb claws of his other digits meticulously plucking each note. The guitar sang just as Mosavi described, and I kept glancing over at the elder to gauge his expression. It did little good because his face went from stoney indifference to stony interest as he sat on the sand, his arms crossed. 

With the final note, the guitar seemed to resonate far longer than it had, filling the air as the ocean waves applauded. 

Mosavi uncrossed his arms, rubbing the fur on his chest. “I remember this.”

“Thanks for taking good care of my guitar,” Derrek said with a cocky smile, knowing what he’d accomplished as the mayor melted into actual emotion.

“So you really are his grandson. Derrek Shields.” Mosavi drew in a deep breath, the intensity of his stare remaining. “The way you play…if it weren’t so absurd, I’d believe in reincarnation. Sebastien always performed with his eyes closed.”

“I need to be in a different place when I play these pieces,” Derrek said. “When I close my eyes, I can see every ribbon as a note. Each one is a different color, and I can picture where my fingers should be. It’s my way of slowing time. Dad always told me that’s the way my grandfather played, but my dad could never see the notes like that. He kept his eyes open.”

“You transcend reality,” Mosavi said, a wide smile finally parting his grimace. “I could never replicate the feeling myself with the violin, but I’ve come as close as I’ll ever get. You go well beyond that. It’s genius.”

Derrek laughed. “Genius is a little too flattering for a stoner werewolf living in a shack on the beach.”

“Perhaps,” Mosavi said, his eyes almost glistening while staring at the younger werewolf. “Perhaps merit shouldn’t be based solely upon appearance.” He turned to me. “It seems I owe you an apology.”

“Oh?” I said, rubbing my palms in anticipation for the crow he was about to eat. 

“I owe you one, but you’re not getting it. We still have a lot of work ahead of us.”

“You’re such a—” I whispered, but stopped and forced a smile when he glared at me. “So I take it our two nights a week have been canceled?” 

“Regrettably.”

Austin’s stomach rumbled from across the fire. 

“It’s two o’clock. When the hell is Simon gonna be finished?” he asked. 

“One mustn’t rush perfection,” Simon said in a fake Italian accent as he made his way to the fire. “Everything’s almost done. Just waitin’ on the rest of turkeys. They’re gonna be so juicy.”

“How many turkeys did you end up getting?” Austin asked. “I counted like eight of ‘em. We expecting more?”

“They’re on their way.” Adam had been glancing at his phone every five minutes until now. “I wanted to invite a few of my friends from the city.”

“Well shit. How about some damn appetizers then?” Austin held his stomach. “I haven’t eaten since last night.”

“I think the seven lobster dinners you ordered for room service and horked down on my bill should still be digesting,” Mosavi said through his teeth.

“Oh yeah. That was good shit,” Austin said casually. “Thanks mayor moneybags.” 

Mosavi was close to lunging, but Willa grabbed the sensitive area between his shoulder blades to calm him like she did the other day.

The sound of bus brakes squealed in the parking lot far behind Derrek’s shack, and Adam leapt to his feet before making a mad dash toward the commotion.  

“Good. Everyone’s here,” Austin muttered, turning to Simon. “Bring on the food, Emeril Lagasse.”

Simon scooped up a handful of sand. 

“Bam!” he shouted, throwing it to the ground, but a strong breeze blew it directly into Mosavi’s face. “Oh shit.” Simon tore away from the fire before running back into Derrek’s house with his tail between his legs. 

“This is all a test, isn’t it?” Mosavi snarled, turning to Willa. “Everyone is seeing how far they can push me before I go on a homicidal rampage.”

“Oh relax, dear,” she said, brushing the sand from his face. “It’s the beach. We’re going to get sand everywhere anyway.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Adam was quietly leading three werewolves to the beach, signaling for me to keep Austin distracted. 

“Uh, Austin, what’s in that little box you brought with you?”

His eyes brightened. 

“It’s a surprise for Adam, but don’t tell him. He thinks I was just working on the still.”

“I take it things have been going well for you two,” Derrek said. 

“I think so,” Austin said. “I’ve got a lot to make for.”

“Trust me. Adam doesn’t see it that way,” I said as the four werewolves stopped just shy of the fire. There was a short brown werewolf with a thick black mane, a silver werewolf around Simon’s height with dark gray mane, and a taller skinnier werewolf with shaggy black fur. They each wore a dog tag and army fatigues similar to Austin’s. 

“The pack’s got your back, ain’t that right boys?” the silver werewolf said, his voice cracking slightly. Austin snapped his head toward them as the others shouted in unison. 

“Yes sir!”

“W—what?” Austin scrambled to his feet, stumbling a few times in the sand before running up to the other three. He let out a high-pitched whine before squeaking out a “how?”

“Where the hell have you been?” the silver werewolf said as they surrounded the larger werewolf in a group hug. “You went AWOL without saying a word to us.”

“I thought you guys were dead!” he shouted hysterically, pulling away before wiping the tears from his eyes. He reached for his chest and snatched the dog tags he wore, pulling them away until the chain broke. “They threw these in the trash. I thought they killed you all, and I thought I was next.” It seemed to struggle to catch his breath.

“It was all classified, and they didn’t fill us in on anything until later. North Korea developed a nerve agent that can take down werewolves without having any effect on humans. They were testing ways to immunize us against it, but they never intended for any of us to die. They kept the doses really low until they found something that worked. They were protecting us.”

Austin looked down at the tags in his hand as tears fell from his face. “All this time…”

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” the taller black one said. “You have any idea what you put us through? We couldn’t let you go.”

“Big-little shit,” the short brown one said with a chuckle. “We missed you taking everything seriously all the time.”

Austin fell to his knees as the others held onto him, each one licking his face. Adam leaned in close to me before whispering into my ear. 

“I’ve been chatting with them for weeks. They’re gonna live in Norwich with Austin. They really were looking all over the world for him.” Tears welled in his eyes as he smiled, watching the four lick at each other. “I didn’t understand what I was a part of when I was a half-turn, and I don’t care what our original purpose was to the witches. They accidentally turned us into a better version of humanity.”

“I can’t wait until my day comes,” I whispered, looking around at everyone. Derrek watched the pack’s emotional reunion while cradling his father’s guitar. Mosavi slipped an arm around Willa’s waist as they kissed softly. Simon emerged from the shack and made his way back to the fire, standing by my side. 

“Now that’s a happy werewolf,” Simon whispered. 

I tugged at the thicker fur on his chest, and he leaned in, allowing me to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss of my own. It didn’t matter where we were or how bad things had gotten before, when our lips met, we were at home. Speaking of home…

“We’re gonna need a much bigger house,” I whispered to Simon. “I think we’re about to add a few more to our pack.”

“Hell yeah. More people to cook for,” Simon said, his tail wagging. 

Austin and the others pulled away, and the larger werewolf turned to Adam while reaching into his pocket before pulling out a small, wooden box. 

“I don’t deserve all this,” he said through tears before gently pressing the box into Adam’s hand. “This doesn’t even come close to what you gave me.”

Adam opened the gift and smiled as looked inside. He pulled out a chain with two dog tags, Austin’s name was on one and his name was on the other. 

“You looked good when you wore my chain that night you turned.” He took the piece of jewelry and slipped around the smaller werewolf’s neck. “It’s better than any kuu, and Willa helped me make it. I think you’ll like what it can do.”

Adam pushed his larger mate into the sand, falling on top of him, their eyes locking for several moments. It was as though everyone else had disappeared and they were the only ones left on earth. 

“You’ve been asking yourself for years the same question, but I have your answer.” Adam rested his head along the crook of Austin’s neck. “This is why you’re still here.”

Only during our darkest hours can we truly see the stars…

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