Pest Control, page 11
The wolf. The image of canine eyes and sharp teeth, dark fur and a long snout flashed in his mind. It was just a dream. But…this was undeniably real, and so was Everett. Rhys’s dreams had melded with reality into one giant clusterfuck.
There was only one explanation for it, and no matter how silly it seemed to come to this conclusion, Rhys finally felt as though he could see clearly for the first time in weeks—and feel the downright terror. How could he not be terrified when he was trapped in the arms of a fucking werewolf?
The longer Rhys stared up at Everett’s face, the softer it became. His growls had subsided into huffs. He stopped speaking, fury melting second by second. He’d no doubt registered the terror playing across Rhys’s features, from his wide eyes, to his clammy skin, to his tensed body ready to bolt at any second, to his throat as he gulped heavily.
“I…oh my god, Rhys, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my t-temper,” Everett said, tripping over his words.
He went to touch Rhys’s cheek, but Rhys flinched away from his touch, eyes slamming shut in anticipation of being mauled by this…creature. Everett frowned, slowly bringing his arm back.
“Rhys, please don’t be scared of me. I—”
“Everett,” Rhys interrupted as forcefully as he could manage, although it came out a bit squeakier than he’d hoped, his entire body shaking, and not from the cold this time. “You’re…what are you?”
Everett was taken aback by the question, his own eyes widening, irises darting around. “Uh…what?” He laughed nervously, forced and too loud. “What do you mean, ‘what am I’? I’m Everett!”
“No. No, Everett. What. Are. You. What are those?” Rhys pointed at Everett’s teeth. “What were those…noises you were making, huh? And don’t you lie to me! What are you? Because you certainly aren’t fucking human!”
Everett’s hands flew up to feel around his mouth, his body jolting ramrod straight when his fingers grazed along the points of his canines, so sharp they nicked his skin and a small bit of blood trickled down his hand. He gasped at the red liquid as if frightened of it just as much as Rhys was, if not more.
“I-I,” he whispered, eyes flickering between his wound and Rhys, who had begun to scoot back away from him. “Rhys, I…I swear I was going to tell you—”
“What? That you’re a fucking werewolf?” Rhys scoffed, not wanting to hear Everett spout bullshit any longer. “What the hell, Everett! That’s not something you just…hide from a person, especially the person who has been housing you, feeding you, taking care of you, loving you!”
“It’s not like it’s that easy to tell you I’m a wolf shifter!” Everett shot back as he stood, now looming over Rhys. He paced back and forth, his hands tightly fisted at his side. “You hate wolves, Rhys! You despise them! You tried to kill one even…tried to kill me!”
It all made sense now. Why Everett, of all things, was the prey in his wolf trap. Now that he thought about it, Rhys’s previous theories about him running away from his family, a cult, or a sex trafficking ring seemed more like fiction than Everett being a monster out of fairytales. How likely would it have been for a runaway to find Rhys’s tiny section of the backwoods among the hundreds of miles of forest on that specific day and step straight into his trap? One in millions. How likely would it have been for the wolf—werewolf—that’d been stalking Rhys for months to follow the scent trail of the bait and get caught? A hundred and ten percent.
“It was you, wasn’t it? The bastard wolf who was stealing all my kills?”
Everett had the gall to look offended at the words. He had no right, not after lying to Rhys for so long. “I wasn’t stealing them—”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what the word ‘stealing’ means, Everett, because I clearly remember teaching it to you when we played Monopoly,” Rhys snapped. “What else would you call it then, when you deliberately waited until the prey I shot ran out of view so you could snatch it up before I could catch up? I shot them all first! It’s not like you never had your own chance to kill them fair and square. That’s stealing, and it’s not fucking right!”
“Rhys, wait—”
“Is that why you decided to stay with me, huh?” Rhys continued, not caring that Everett appeared to be about to cry again. Rhys wasn’t falling for it this time. “Couldn’t hunt for your damn self so you thought you’d trick me into helping a fake homeless kid?”
Rhys seethed, his blood boiling in his veins. He wanted to scream, to get up and punch the shit out of Everett for taking advantage of him, for making him look foolish this whole time. He wanted to kick him out into the blizzard and let him die, but all he could do with his weak body was hope his words hit just as hard as his fists would.
Everett sniffled and visibly deflated, his eyes glued to the bloodstain on the floor. He was silent for a long moment, so long Rhys was about to start his rant again until Everett knelt in front of him and spoke in a quiet, hurt whisper.
“Rhys, I-I got kicked out of my pack. Got run out of the territory last spring.”
Rhys cocked an eyebrow. “Okay? And?”
“And you’re right. I stole your prey because I couldn’t do it myself. Spent months alone and was barely able to hunt rabbits, not a single deer. You’re right, okay? I-I’m a fucking stealing bastard wolf who can’t hunt for shit. They never taught me how, always preferred my other siblings to go out on hunts with them while I was left to pick at the bones just because I was the runt, not worth using resources on. And then they kicked me out because I flirted with one of the neighboring pack’s sons when he came looking for my sisters during the mating season—”
Everett growled under his breath and shook his head. “It’s no excuse for my behavior toward you, though, no matter how desperate and starving I was. I know it was wrong to steal from you. That’s why I’ve tried so hard from the start to be useful to you. I wasn’t even planning on staying any longer than a few weeks but I…I fell in love with you, Rhys. I fell in love with everything about you, even what you may think are your flaws—I love them. And I couldn’t just leave, not when you were so alone. You act like you’re so tough, but you need someone here with you, to care for you, to love you like you deserve—and you deserve so much love, Rhys, so much. It was never about taking advantage of you. I would never.”
Everett held their eye contact steady, making Rhys feel as though his expression was being desperately searched. And Everett must’ve not found what he was looking for because he let out a long sigh and hung his head.
“I understand if you don’t believe me though. I was the one stealing your kills for months, the one who put you in this position of almost dying of starvation. I can never forgive myself for always being such a fucking wimp.”
Everett paused to laugh bitterly as tears fell from his face onto the floor. “You know, I could’ve gone out to hunt weeks ago. I have better senses than you, so with all of the hunting knowledge you gave me, I would’ve been able to hunt down a deer for us just like that one. Except, it would have to be in my wolf form, which meant I’d have to tell you. I knew if I told you I’m a wolf, the wolf, you’d hate me, kick me out, or even fucking kill me. I was scared, Rhys.
“But, when you told me you love me…I thought that would mean if I revealed my wolf side, you might’ve been able to look past it and still love me and forgive me. But maybe…I was wrong. Maybe your love for me isn’t enough to outweigh your anger and fear. So, now that I’ve succeeded in saving your life…if you want to, you can kill me, and I won’t put up a fight.”
Rhys didn’t know how to react, how to feel, not when Everett was begging on his knees for his forgiveness and understanding. He wanted to believe his words, he really did, but it was almost impossible for him to look past the lies, even if they were supposedly told out of good intention. There was no way for him to know whether Everett wasn’t still lying straight through his teeth, even now. Rhys had been lied to so much in the past, been tricked and made a fool of.
How could he trust Everett after this? How could he look at him in the same way, now that it’d been revealed he was part animal? Would he someday turn on Rhys out of instinctual, feral anger and rip him to shreds? Was he only taking care of Rhys because he wanted to fatten him up to eat come spring?
But at the same time, how could Rhys just forget and deny his love for Everett?
Lies were still lies; stealing was still stealing—yet at the same time, love was still love, and his love for Everett was something he would never be able to erase. So what if he had lied and stolen? So what if he was a fucking werewolf? So fucking what? Everett wasn’t his parents, his exes, or the no-good world Rhys had left behind; he was only Everett, Rhys’s first ever real love. No one had ever done this much for Rhys before, gone to such an effort to prove the extent of their love selflessly without asking anything in return. How could he push him away? How could he hold a grudge over him? How could he vilify him out of his own past trauma? He couldn’t—and he didn’t want to. He wanted Everett, with his lies, stealing, wolfy-ness, and all.
“This is hard for me, Everett.” Rhys sighed. “I’m definitely not going to kill you, so shut up about that. But…I don’t…know what to do. I’ve never been in love with a werewolf before—”
“You still love me?” Everett blurted out and then slapped a hand over his mouth as if he didn’t mean to ask that.
Rhys giggled softly. Yup, he was still very much enamored with Everett, even now. “Of course I do. You think my love is that fragile? Because it isn’t, and that’s what scares me— I still love you, even when you steal and lie and terrify me. Like what the hell? Is there something wrong with me? Jesus Christ, I’m in love with a fucking werewolf like I’m in goddamn Twilight or something. I’m still not convinced I’m not still dreaming right now. I thought you liked women this entire time!”
“Not a single thing is wrong with you, except maybe being oblivious, thinking I like women. I thought it was pretty obvious that I was and am attracted to you.” Everett laughed in disbelief. He dared to hesitantly reach out his hand again to touch Rhys’s shoulder, a small smile rising when his affection was accepted this time. “And you’re not dreaming; I promise this is very, very real. And so is my love for you.”
“Shut up. That’s so cheesy!”
Everett’s smile widened as he pinched Rhys’s pouty bottom lip. “You shut up; you know you like it,” he teased. “But…does that mean you forgive me? A-and still want me here? Because I totally understand if you want me to fuck off forever—”
“Just shut up, and come kiss me already.”
And he did. Everett fell into Rhys’s embrace easily, letting their lips meld together for the second time that night, holding each other so close it almost hurt. It wasn’t as passionate as the first, but perfectly slow, letting them get lost in the moment. Rhys didn’t even mind it when he felt Everett’s canines scrape ever so slightly against his lips, no longer afraid of them, only grinning into the kiss like an idiot.
Eventually, their lips parted, but their embrace didn’t. Everett held Rhys like they were never going to see each other again—and based on how this almost had been the case, the feeling made a lot of sense. Rhys hugged him back just as tight, arms wrapped around his torso like his life depended on it.
Silence filled the cabin for a while, save for the occasional sniffles and soft, pleased sighs, as well as the crackling of the fireplace. The silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, as there were no other words needed. Rhys’s feelings were still such a jumbled mess, but this moment was quite welcome, leaving his worries for another day, another time. In his lover’s arms, he had a safe place, a comfortable haven, where he could purely enjoy the love they shared.
He couldn’t really deny it anymore, could he? The things he felt were too real. The food in his belly, Everett’s very warm and very alive brown eyes, sparkling with the trillions of stars of the pure and unrelenting love they shared. As impossible as it all seemed, it was all too real to be a dream. Rhys really had woken up. And Everett had, by some miracle, found his way back to his side.
It was all so overwhelming that he couldn’t help but tremble slightly. Rhys was incredibly relieved. This lifestyle had worked well for him but for one flaw: his loneliness. The second he’d found his remedy, it had been ripped away from him so violently. But now, Everett was back, and there was absolutely no way Rhys would ever let him go again.
“You called me ‘my Rhys’ earlier, hmm?” he whispered.
Everett’s posture tensed slightly.
“W-well…yeah. Because you’re mine,” he stammered, nuzzling Rhys’s hair. “Right?”
Rhys’s face warmed, even though it wasn’t himself he was trying to fluster. “I mean…if you want me to be,” he murmured, wringing his fingers nervously.
“Of course I do,” Everett rushed out with zero hesitation. “And I want to be yours as well, if you’ll have me.”
“Of course I will.” Rhys smiled, tilting his head up to plant a kiss on Everett’s nose. “We belong to each other.”
Chapter Eleven
Things seemed to look promising for the couple’s hope of surviving the rest of the long winter together.
The deer Everett had dragged home was a well-fed buck with plenty of meat on its bones. How he had even managed to track down such a magnificent beast floored Rhys at first since the deer were supposed to have migrated down the mountain to the valley. Somehow, Everett had not only managed to trudge those long, arduous miles in the blizzard, but also found the buck, which had been injured already. He’d killed it and lugged the carcass back to the cabin all by himself in his starvation-weakened state. Everett attributed this to Rhys’s amazing hunting lessons, though Rhys knew it had more to do with the werewolf’s superhuman abilities.
Only days later, the blizzard tapered off into gentle snow showers, as if somehow knowing its goal had been completed when the couple had admitted their feelings to each other. Though the snow was still a couple of feet deep with ice hiding underneath, it was finally safe again to venture outside the cabin and revel in the calmer winds and clearer skies, admiring the beautiful landscape they called home.
However, Rhys was unable to enjoy their bounty of food or join Everett as the wolf happily romped through the snow, clearing pathways and hunting rabbits. It sounded like a simple task, to recover from starvation; all he needed was to eat and he’d be better in no time…right?
Wrong. His recovery was more like downright hell.
While Everett’s magical werewolf powers had allowed him to heal almost entirely in just two weeks, Rhys’s weak human body took three painful months, which was completely unfair and rigged.
Despite Rhys being incredibly hungry and the venison smelling absolutely delicious, his traitorous stomach wouldn’t keep down much of anything. It rejected food for weeks; as it had gone so long without any, it didn’t recognize nutrients anymore. Vomiting so often had caused Rhys to become disgusted by even the idea of food, though Everett still forced him to eat. More often than not, Rhys would find himself slumped over a bucket filled with his own puke, the putrid taste of bile in his mouth and Everett’s comforting hand stroking his back.
Though he desperately wanted to escape the claustrophobic confines of the cabin and run outside, Rhys remained bedridden for two months. During his period of starvation, his body had begun to consume itself, leaving him with little muscle mass and fat reserves. His limbs, thin and brittle, threatened to snap when he so much as put on his clothes in the morning. He couldn’t walk on his own, with his legs as thin as his arms, and needed Everett to either carry him everywhere or eventually be used as a human crutch.
The cold was twice as brutal on him without enough mass to keep him warm, so he always lay by the fire wrapped in as many blankets as possible, usually with Everett cozied up by his side. When they weren’t cuddling, Everett took care of the outside chores, from clearing the snow to catching rabbits and deer. Rhys could only watch from the window with a pout, not even able to sit out on the porch thanks to the nipping cold.
The hardest part of recovery was the effect starvation had on his brain. Rhys had potential nerve damage that caused searing pains to shoot down his limbs like lightning when he moved too fast. And most nights, Rhys relived the nightmare he’d had the day Everett came back, dreaming of finding his love frozen and dead. He’d wake up in a cold sweat and sobbing, desperately holding Everett as if afraid he’d disappear into the cold again, leaving him to starve and die alone. Everett could only watch with tears of his own, whispering reassurances that he’d never, ever leave like that again.
They both worried that Rhys would need to be taken down to a hospital, but thankfully, it never got to that point. As the months passed, his stomach slowly learned to tolerate simple, small meals such as bland broths with small chunks of meat, carrots, and potatoes—the backwoods equivalent of chicken noodle soup. By the end of the third month, Rhys was overjoyed to be able to chow down ravenously on big plates of venison steaks, almost as if he were the wolf instead. Mass eventually returned to his body, with Rhys feeling stronger each day. During their nightly cuddle sessions, Everett took immense pleasure in Rhys gaining his weight back, nuzzling against the subtle layer of fat that now covered his ribs. Though Rhys still experienced the occasional nightmares, pains, and muscle weakness, they were both relieved to see his gradual recovery in time for spring, which had just begun.
Now that he was significantly stronger, Everett allowed himself to shift more often, no longer afraid Rhys would need his human form twenty-four-seven. Rhys found himself, most mornings, waking up to a gigantic fluffy wolf taking up half of his bed. And if sometimes he woke up pinned to the wall, he really didn’t mind it.
Wolf-Everett was an even better cuddle buddy than his human counterpart, warmer than any fur blanket could ever be, so Rhys never complained unless Everett also decided he needed a face licking to go along with the cuddles.
