I huddled into the oversized coat; Marisol had adopted me in a sense, bringing me clothes when it became apparent that I would be remaining with the group. Much as I would have liked to go out on my own, or even retrieve my wardrobe from the apartment, my ability to separate from the gray-haired man who'd attached himself to my side was minimal at best. 

A former self might have complained, but given what we'd been through, I welcomed the attachment. He was busy, shockingly so, in that he was either on his phone, answering what he called 'emails' on his computer, or helping to manage Helen. He was just as busy in this life as he was in our last, except now, I got to witness the chaos. 

Verando had very little time to go out; Marisol had been managing his home life almost entirely, a painful detail that I tried not to take too personally, considering I had just now found my way back into it. 

The waves roll, angry, as they crash onto the short beach that nestles closely to the rock face. 

The sound, while loud, is soothing in its consistency. I'd always had an appreciation for the ocean; it was my companion that'd never get on a boat again if society deemed it possible. 

"I don't like this." Verando comments lowly, as I accept the looming in exchange for warmth. He was a living furnace, and I could tolerate his overprotective nature for the relief it brought from the chill. Tyler emulates him, his arms wrapped around Helen, who looks almost as excited as I am. 

Marisol pulls off her coat, setting it on a rather pointy rock. 

"Of course you don't, it involves fun, and you're a wet sock." Marisol snorts.

"The phrase is 'wet blanket.'" Helen corrects happily, earning a scowl.

Convincing him that this was a good idea had been nearly impossible, and his reluctance wasn't doing much for Tyler's confidence. 

"Someone could see us, and then what? In case you've forgotten, Lycans are illegal." Verando reminds us all shortly.

"Then better not let them see you, hmm?" Marisol teases, pulling her hair out of its bun and shaking it out. "I want to run, baby. I'm a wolf, not a house pet, and we've been kept inside far too long. I can't pass up this opportunity and neither can you, Alpha is dying to get out. I can feel it." 

Helen seems to agree, though she doesn't voice it; her eyes are locked on the expanse of wet, packed sand as if her soul were already long gone. 

With the surge of energy between the two females, the chilling wind, and the salty spray that crashed onto the shore, I shiver in anticipation. "Try to be positive? Please?" I suggest, Verando responds with a heavy exhale at the audacity of such a request. 

Shifting his weight uncomfortably, I turn in his arms, brushing at the light sweater as beads of ocean water catch on the shoulder. 

"You need to let off some steam, and no one is going to come out here with weather like this. As long as we don't let Malka off this beach, and nobody takes to baying at the moon... It's going to be fine. I'm not going to let you go back to that facility, I promise." 

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I kiss his chest. "Do you know how long it's been since we've gone on a run together?" 

My tone softens his expression, easing the tension out of his body at the thought. My warlord must be desperate if I was suddenly making sense to him.  "It has been a while." He allowed, after a bit of hesitation, a sense of longing lingered in the background. He felt it too, as much as he was trying to hide it. 

"If something were to happen to us, Tyler and Helen are our only hope and we need to do everything we can to secure their bond. Is it the weight? She carried me just fine, if that's what you're worried about? Malka is strong." 

"Tyler is much bigger than you." Verando corrects. "It's not that. The fact that we're in broad daylight and what we're doing can be caught on camera and go public makes it very dangerous. We'd be hunted down if someone saw-" 

When I glance over, Marisol is naked, and I'm unprepared to see large breasts swinging free in the wind. She giggles excitedly, tossing her hair with the wind as she stretches against the breeze. 

"This feels amazing!" She practically squeals. 

Verando smirks at her, an Alpha before anything else; it was what his people wanted, and that would be what won him over. 

I try not to focus on whether he's observing her, dragging my tongue over my teeth in disapproval as I twist out of his grasp. Shaking his head with a more casual eye roll, he gives me a smack on the ass for my trouble. The gesture is a silent promise that he would play along, that it was my side that he was on, yet the idea of her sharing this with him stung. 

Legardo's fabrication hung in the back of my mind, the idea of 'fated mates'—a silly notion until I bore witness to it with Alpha dragging Verando back to me.

What if that damned beast chose someone else? 

Verando had explained the sex drive of a lycan to me before; it was animalistic, an instinct more than lust, though he found himself on the better end of a normal libido. 

How could I fight with what naturally could provide for him in that sense? 

"Leave something to the imagination, Kitten." Verando sighs. 

The Spanish woman holds up her middle finger and gestures to it as if presenting a gift. Dimpling his cheek, Verando pulled off his sweater, folded it, and placed it carefully behind the lip of the rock wall.

"We all have to be naked?"Tyler grimaces, almost making me choke at the thought, he moves to stand in front of Helen as she fights with her clothes. The image horrifies him, making him blush as he averts his eyes.

"No. They will shred their clothes if they shift while wearing them." As I speak, Helen is pulling out of her sweater, fighting to get out of her jeans. Every time she pauses, her hand returns to her heart as if she can't manage to be in this form for one more second. 

Tyler spreads his jacket to allow her to change as privately as possible. "And you expect me to sit on her back as you did? Didn't you say she wasn't going to like that much?"

"Try not to be too nervous, it's a lot easier than it looks. Have you ever ridden a horse?" 

Tyler's expression makes me think the answer to that is no. 

"Just don't fall off and don't kick; it's mostly your body weight that controls them. The scruff is the easiest place to hold onto. Randy?" 

 Marisol was only inches from the man, her body dangerously close to his. He leaned down slightly, a private conversation between two people who truly looked like they went together. His hands had paused, resting on the hem of his boxer briefs, and I flinch when I realize they are speaking in Spanish to keep their conversation from us. 

She complimented him in different ways than I had; her quirky nature was fire to his ice. Her height was within an inch of my own, her tanned skin warm against the pale complexion he had adopted since coming to the future. Marisol's soft fingers linger on his arm, intimately; did he even notice the way her eyes never left his mouth? 

Was he even aware of how comfortable he looked with her?

My voice ends their conversation, making him straighten as he leaves her in favor of me.

Cocking his head, I compose my expression, which I hadn't even realized I was making. "I was hoping you could help me demonstrate for Tyler." His jaw tightens, and I find myself wondering if I had interrupted a pep talk. "Is this the part you're worried about? Have you shifted since-" I stop myself, keeping my eyes focused, knowing that if I even dare a glance at the repair, it would turn him off. 

Helen's hopeful gaze is pressure I didn't want for him, but it might be the thing we need to push him back to our side. "Is Alpha gone? Like Daddys?" She frowns, her hands hovering over her bare breasts. 

I find I'm now agreeing with Tyler and avert my eyes, keeping them firmly on my warlord. 

"No, it's not that. It's.. I don't know what the metal in this shoulder is going to do when I shift. A human shoulder blade is quite different from a wolf's; I'm concerned about what will happen to the plates and screws. I'm just-"

Marisol elbows him in the ribs, "If it's damaged, then they'll fix it again. Get over it, a vagina doesn't suit you."

Despite the confidence of her answer, Verando narrows his eyes at her with a harsh rumble from his throat. "You're a foul creature." 

She sticks out her tongue dismissively. 

I trail my fingers over his pectoral muscles, marveling at the wall of muscle before my mind trails to the past, and I'm briefly reminded of Tomas, the jestor of our group. 

"Do you know who I miss in times like these?"

"Tomas?" He mirrors my thoughts.

 I nod, and with a devious grin, I grope him as one would grab a pair of breasts. Verando gasps, horrified as he retracts, before wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Have you all lost your damn minds?" 

Shrugging innocently, I lift my palms, squeezing the air in threat. "That's for making tits behind me while I was meeting Fillipa! Now, change, we have work to do." 

The wolf appeared before me, the gray creature I hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime. The light eyes peer at me with a different consciousness, maintaining the offending left leg in a lifted position, and for a moment, I fear the worst.  

Holding out my hand, he limps towards me, and as he closes the space, he bears more weight until he takes a whole step. 

"How does it feel?" 

Verando responds with a single tail wag. Smiling, I wrap my arm around the creature's fluffy neck and hug him tightly as he bumps me with his cheek. I feel it before I see it, and when I turn, I note Tyler is on the edge of quitting. 

"They are massive..." Tyler manages in disbelief. "I don't think we should be riding these... I know they're our friends, but this..? Nic, this just doesn't feel right." 

I guess that was the difference between us; riding them came naturally to me. "They like it. It's hard to explain, but it's written into them by the spell that makes them wolves. Just like a dragon, they crave the connection."

Marisol shifts, and all that is left is Helen. 

"Just call your wolf and let go. The more you fight it, the more it hurts. Your bones must break to form the wolf; once the fractures become a memory to the bone, it stops being so painful and becomes much more tolerable." His voice is rough; more of a projection than a spoken word.

Her body began to tremble, heat radiating off her in heavy waves that caused steam to billow into the window. Clutching her stomach, she drops to her knees and cries out in agony. As the wolf almost seems to shred through her, I can't help but recall the memory the book showed me of the first lycans forced to shift.

My hand absently rests on his shoulder, and Marisol snags the thin female by her scruff-- Helen snarls at her, fangs bared, ears flat back. 

Tyler jumps back, scrambling in the sand to stay upright. I quickly grab Helen by her ear, pulling her head down. 

The presence of the gray wolf behind me keeps her under my command.

"It's difficult to bite you in this position, so if she manages to throw you off, you must catch her by the ear. You need to understand that if you fall, she's going to try to kill you." 

It was the same speech verbatim, Sota's voice ringing in my ears as if I were reliving it, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest, terrified and excited, ready to die. Helen is not Alpha; Helen plots and becomes quiet, whereas Alpha never hides his feelings.

Verando lowers himself, allowing me to climb on. 

There was a clear difference when I sat on Marisol, as if she were not meant for me, whereas the transition to Tonic had been somewhat more straightforward. The gaits were off; her body movement was rougher and out of practice. 

Seated here, it's as if I never left. 

"The farther you lean back, the slower they should go. Hold on with your legs; pull the scruff if you must." I run my fingers through the dense fur on the back of his neck, feeling the now even planes of muscle under my thighs. "Talk to her. She can understand you. Alpha wants to be in front, so she should fall behind him. Marisol will run alongside and try to keep her off of you if you fall." 

Tyler shakes his head in disbelief as he approaches the white female. Her stillness is eerie, those large eyes full of concern. 

"I'm going to die... This is so insane. Why am I doing this?"

"Because you love her," I tell him simply as he carefully pulls himself up onto her back. "If there was ever a time to be commanding, now is that time. Any weakness, and she will sense it. You must be certain." 

Marisol releases the female, and Verando moves to stand beside her; as he approaches, Helen lowers her body slightly, not wanting to incite his wrath. 

"Try and have fun?" In all my focus on Tyler and Helen, I had forgotten the creature under me, his ears erected like a crown as he stared down the sandbar. Slow, long, inhales fill his lungs as he shares the space with Alpha, who was taking it all in for the first time. 

The gray wolf takes a confident step forward, and I quickly check him with his scruff. 

"Hey. It's been a long time since I've sat on you, so take it easy on me, alright?" I tell him shortly, a silent plea for mercy.

Marisol giggled, "Good luck, Nic." 

Tyler glances up in a panic as if he had believed the farce that I was entirely in control. With an apologetic shrug to the other solomonari seated on a rogue beast at my request, I accept my fate.

Verando lurches forward, and I practically fall off in the first leap, hearing Tyler's cry of surprise as Helen follows suit. Where I assumed we would start easily, there was no such luck with a runway of open sand and a healed shoulder. 

The striding feels different, longer, more powerful. Alpha had hardly known life with no shoulder pain, for Verando had just barely figured out how to shift when he fought his father. The creature below me is no longer Verando; it's an unleashed beast previously trapped in a broken body. 

There is no longer a limp, nor the fatigue of back muscles long since severed, in the angular shape of his body on the lacking side. The sand sprays to hit the bottom of my shoes as he jets forward, in a full sprint, paws devouring the ground with each stride, chasing freedom. 

In the distance, I hear Tyler yelling, and I glance over my shoulder to see an emaciated lycan and an average-condition female who can't keep up with an Alpha male in peak physical condition.

With the whistle of the wind and the crisp ocean scent, I can't blame him for wanting to run until his lungs burst. But leaving Marisol to contend with Helen on her own wasn't the most fair. Tyler would never forgive me if I abandoned them. 

"We should turn back-" The thought transfers quicker than I can say it, the wolf spins to backtrack faster than my body can follow. 

I fly through the air with enough time to write my memoirs before I shield my face and grunt as I hit the hard-packed sand that could have been concrete more than soft powder. "Damn it! Randy!!!" I snap at him; my body feels like it's been hit by a sledgehammer. 

I lay there, holding my side, still sore from my time in the ocean, wondering why I'd tethered myself to these barbarians. 

The gray muzzle bumps me, I'm met with apologetic light eyes, and I shove his nose away in offense. "Asshole. You did that on purpose!"

The pitter-patter of trotting feet makes me sit up, and I spot the approaching wolves as I roll onto my hip and cough on the sand, scrubbing it from my hair.

"Nice fall." Marisol snorts. 

"Thanks." I spit through my teeth, shoving his muzzle away again as he sniffs my face. "What happened to you guys?"

"You ran like you broke out of hell's gates, spooked Malka, and she fizzled out quickly," Tyler tells me, looking more confident. 

I frown, noting the uncertainty in those light eyes of the female lycan. 

"Seriously?" I demand, gripping his muzzle with both hands to prevent the invasion into my space. 

As I climb to my knees, Verando nuzzles his forehead against my chest, and I can tell my warlord is back. "That's pretty fucked up, Randy. Tyler gets one ride, and it's all hearts and rainbows? You seriously just threw me off, and it's been years! What the hell?!" 

Verando shrugs, allowing me to support myself on him as I test my hip. "Wait until she's strong. This isn't over. She just got a good look at what it can be." 

I climb onto his back, despite his protest, because I wasn't prepared to let it end on such a sour note. I'd missed him, all of him, and I wouldn't allow this to deter me. We wasted the better part of the day enjoying the endless bliss of lycans set free, basking in the warmth of happiness I'd never felt in the gray being. 

___________________________________________

Long after Helen and Marisol were sprawled out in the cool sand and my thighs were too sore to even think of another pass, Verando was on edge, ready for another round. I slide off of him, collapsing onto the dryer bits of sand surrounding the crude fire Tyler had managed to start.

The sun teases the distant horizon, contemplating sleep. Despite the threat of rain, we'd been surrounded by wind and overcast skies, with the occasional spray of sea foam. 

"I'm exhausted." Tyler groans, rubbing his thighs. I want to complain, but decide against it, opting instead to smile and hide my discomfort. The way he watched the expanse of beach brought me back to Tyler's aversion at the beginning.

 Did he have a point? 

Was it right to ride them for fun? 

Part of me had dared to wonder, if only for a moment, if it was fair to tether these beings to mortal lives. 

"Randy," I call him back, pushing the thought out of my mind.  

One ear flicks, and he unlocks himself as he rejoins us.

To our shock, Marisol pounces before him, her front end lowered to the ground with a playful tail wag. 

Giving her an annoyed look, my warlord steps around her only to have her shove him with her paw and skitter away as a young pup might. His body is tense; his coat bristles. Helen slowly stands, watching with interest as the tan wolf hopped around in a manner I hadn't seen before. 

Cautiously, she bowed, and Marisol leaped onto her.

Jumping to my feet, worried they might be fighting, I slowly realize that they seem to be playing. They wrestle, tumble, run, and jump, an oddity I'd never witnessed in my time with the lycan army. 

Disturbed, Verando comes to sit beside us, and I flash him a casual look, raising my eyebrows expectantly. 

Met with a grunt, he settles down in the picture of control, unwilling to dignify such antics. 

My warlord was too good with children to have me believe there wasn't a side of him that enjoyed such antics. I push his shoulder, "Don't pretend like you aren't dying to go over there. I promise I won't even judge you for 'frolicking'." I tease. 

The two females skirt across the sand, chasing each other, bouncing and rolling as they play. 

"Go," I tell him more gently.

 Reluctantly, he stands, uncertain as he places himself into the open of the sand arena. I chuckle as Helen leaps on him with such enthusiasm; while it's awkward and he's out of practice, they incorporate him into their game, and all over again, I'm grateful for Marisol. 

"Wolves are happiest with a pack." I sigh. "We need more lycans."

Tyler makes a face. "They have each other."

"We had hundreds of lycans, potentially thousands if you think of all those that were still enslaved. This is okay, but it's sad to think of what it used to be. It's incredible how close they are to each other, and the loyalty that follows. I'd pick lycans over people any day."

 After a long moment, Tyler seems to accept my answer, leaning back against the rock face we're using to block out the wind. As the sun sets and the moon takes over the sky, I'm disappointed by the lack of stars, considering the light from the city. 

"The sky looks sick," I comment. 

Tyler glances at the city, "It's light pollution, sir. Unfortunately, you don't get many stars."

"Stars, hmm? I never cared much about studying the sky. So those are 'stars'?"

He nods, "Millions and millions of them. Billions, maybe." 

I can't even fathom the number; we didn't have 'billions' in my time. We both jump at the low, curling howl that chills us to our core. 

"That's a bit creepy." 

The females join him as they howl, heads tilted back. 

"Yeah, that's not like him to howl like that. Randy-" I call. "I don't want anyone to hear us. We don't need a group of people seeing naked humans rolling around on the beach-" 

I'm stopped in my tracks; it's not our lycans howling, but a response, way off in the distance.