Two Wolves
The street sign felt cold in her fingers. Rose swung around it a second time, listening to the metallic slide. On the quiet residential street, she saw signs of life in illuminated windows and people coming onto their porches, but she let them be. This was the edge of Gavin's neighborhood; she didn't come hungry. Under the waxing moon, she waited for the werewolf to meet her. Lately, they didn't spend time at his home or hers, for fear of packmates identifying smells. They met in the middle and went to neutral places.

On her tiptoes, she balanced on the curb, her small feet laced into tennis shoes. Rose's pants came to the calf muscle. Her shirt had a monogrammed R. She looked harmless as she did her tightrope walk, just passing the time until her beau came. A breeze carried the scents of home cooking and damp pavement from a recent storm. It also smelled of something animal. The hairs on Rose's arms raised, like they always did when Gavin got close. Eyes brightening, she turned around.

The air was sweet. Not sweet like summer, but enough for everyone to notice the seasons changing. Everything was slowly shifting and manifesting like a flower bud being pried open. Revealing all those hidden wonders and secrets, their scents and colours transforming until the world as you knew it was bursting full of new life. These were the nights people longed for. The kind where you could walk alone and not feel fear.
At least, that was the theory. Wyatt personally preferred the winter months. Dark and unpleasant like the scum collecting on the surface of ponds. Wyatt didn't like most people, but he could tolerate them when he had too. Vampires on the other hand... It wasn't luck that he turned down the street she was on, he could smell her in the air, tangled up with all the other scents. Like a piece of string, tightly woven together. The top of his lip curled into a sneer. "Ever hear the story of the big bad wolf?" A particularly vicious smirk worked its way over his lips.

"Oh!" Rose backed into the street sign.

Confusion was written all over her, because he smelled like Gavin. It dawned late on Rose that this was a packmate, that they often shared the same quarters, worked in the same restaurant. A sharp, tingling feeling ran down the vampire's spine, her senses heightening so she felt individual hairs rising on her arms and nape, tiny antennae warning her of trouble a bit too late.

"Sure I have," she said, clenching her fingers around the post. "He was boiled and eaten for supper." She had a heck of a time keeping her face pretty. The muscles twitched, aching to shift into a predatory mask. Cool your jets, she coaxed herself, but it was difficult. The wolf was practically licking his chops.

"Not in my version." His voice was like gravel, the kind that could leave your skin crawling. That sickly, thick rasp that grinds and erodes at a person's very core the way salt water ate through sandstone. The werewolf's eyes bored holes into her. Everything about him, from his stance to his heavy leather jacket, spoke of trouble. One careful, calculated step brought him closer. "You don't belong here." Those eyes narrowed. Lips pressed together with uninhibited disgust. Another step forward. "Loitering around in our neighbourhood like you have a fucking green card." The tip of his pink tongue trailed over his lower lip. The words were harsh, but the tone was misleading, almost gentle. "Where are my manners, it isn't polite to play with food, is it?" His large frame inched closer. Nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep lungful of air. The faintest sound of footsteps echoed behind him.

"You'll be roadkill before you get your teeth into me," she said, squeezing her fingernails into her palms. Rose's eyes lit preternaturally gold. A wildcat's eyes. Gavin, she thought over and over, just his name, a mental plea to her feral side. Don't forget your werewolf. If you get into a scrap with his packmate, you'll be done for, no matter how this cookie crumbles. She stepped to the side of the pole, preparing to beat a hasty retreat.

Rose's foot scraped backward.

Inside, where her demon trumped her passive personality, a hot poker of anger stirred to life. A growl like thunder eased from her throat, making a lie of her feminine features. The sharp red outline of lipstick, the curled eyelashes, the cherry blossom perfume. "Lay off..."

"I like the ones that fight back." The sly look on his face changed sharply to anger. Who did she think she was, ordering him around? Wyatt felt his lips pull back until his teeth were bared, glistening with saliva. The rumble bubbled up inside his chest and spilled from his mouth, taking a few droplets of spit with it. "You're going to look good as a stain on my shirt." That was when he lunged. No warning was given as his large hand snagged the fabric of her top. His finger nails digging into the pale skin beneath.

The heavy sound of boots on tarmac marched closer. There was no denying the malice in the growl as it erupted, like hot ash spewing into the otherwise quiet night. Though it wasn't directed towards the vampire. Nobody had to know that. "Do we have a problem?" Gavin's body was less than an inch away from the other werewolf's but his eyes were locked onto Rosalyn. Any closer and he could be considered a second skin. You could almost hear the crackle of static pass between them as his jacket scuffed Wyatt's arm, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Hazel eyes stared at the other werewolf's hand until the muscles in Gavin's jaw twitched. One wrong move and Rosalyn could be dust in the wind.

Rose felt fingers of cold fear inside, like icicles advancing in her veins. It should've been a relief, Gavin showing up like that, but it wasn't, because his packmate hadn't let go. She felt his fingers on her chest, human but maybe not for long. If you got a werewolf worked up, it didn't matter the shape of the moon, he'd howl.

"Aces. It'll match the yellow stain on your shorts," Rose shot back. As if it had a mind of its own, her hand shot up and snatched the guy's paw off her sweater. Until he transformed fully into a wolf, she beat him on strength and speed. It was after the bone-crunching morph that Rose would be up the creek without a paddle. Or, if he and another werewolf played tag-team.

"No problem," she said to Gavin, not daring to look at him. She was afraid her face would give something away. "I was just out for a stroll."

There was a fine line that Wyatt was walking on, and he didn't even realise it. With a twisted grin he lifted one shoulder haphazardly. "I'm going to enjoy making you scream." Short nails grew into thick, pointed claws as Wyatt got excited. His senses becoming sharper as his eyes darkened to black. Saliva pooled at the corners of his mouth until it looked white and frothy. The animal inside him driving a snarl from between clenched teeth. "You and your kind are filth, plaguing our streets and now you're daring to walk into our territory? You think if the tables were turned you'd let us just walk away?" Spittle flew through the air like an assault as Wyatt's voice got louder. Leaning closer, deliberately invading the brunette's space, he whispered almost seductively, "I'm the kind of guy who'll rip your teeth out, then make you swallow them one by one."

The hairs on the back of Gavin's neck stood on end, but he couldn't let his emotions leak out. If that happened, someone would have to die, and while Wyatt wasn't one of his favorite people he wasn't one of the hated either. "Wyatt..." Gavin paused, choosing his words carefully, "This is my area. Keep your voice down, or the nice people in their nice homes will hear you and get suspicious." Each word was said slowly, as if they were sticking to the roof of his mouth. His body turned to watch the younger werewolf.

Actually, if the tables were turned, Rosalyn wouldn't give a rat's tail. She wasn't like them; she didn't mark territory. She nested in a pink apartment and wandered where she pleased. But she knew his type, knew what turned his gears, too. She smelled the pheromones all over him. "Doll," she said, her voice sweet as sugar cane, eyes going to the bulge of his jeans. "You couldn't make me scream if you tied one on."

As he came into her space, Rose was enveloped in the scent of his foaming saliva and the hairs sprouting from his hands. The delicate thread of control that leashed her demon snapped. The air crackled as her bones shifted and her throat answered Wyatt's growl. Nails sharp, Rose lifted an arm and slapped. The vampiric oomph behind it could spin a man like a top, and probably knock him on his ass, a few feet back.
Head turned slightly to eye the Alpha. Then there was sharp pain, and the side of Wyatt's jaw throbbed. Large feet scuffled the sidewalk as he reeled from the impact of the strike. Copper tang touched his tongue. She had split the side of his lower lip. Wyatt's teeth bared as he pivoted towards the vampire again. Sound boiled up from within his chest until it roared from his mouth. Words resembled barks as his hand shot out at an alarming rate, latching around her throat and squeezing until his claws were about to pierce the pale skin. "Bitch! Like a real man would ever touch something like you." Rather than letting her go, the werewolf snarled, bringing his face right up close to hers. Black eyes reflected the gold as saliva trickled and dripped from sharp teeth to chin. It was with a push that his hand finally released her, the back of his hand raising to wipe the blood from his lip. "You're lucky that I found you in this neighbourhood." The implication was very clear.

Initially Gavin had suppressed the beginnings of a grin when Rosalyn had slapped Wyatt. Soon he found himself quite literally biting his tongue as he shook from denying the powerful urge to beat seven shades of shit out of the younger werewolf. Breathing heavily, the Alpha ground his teeth, clenched fists rigidly by his sides. "Wyatt." The name felt like acid on his tongue, but before he could say anything else the door of someone's house across the street creaked open. Two teenagers laughing made their way towards the car parked in the drive.

Rose hadn't the need to breathe. Still, his werewolf fingers bruised the flesh of her throat. She was pulled onto her tiptoes for the epithet and then violently shoved off. Touching the marks, Rose looked at Gavin. She wasn't sure who Wyatt's taunt insulted more. "Some gentleman," she said of the packmate. The bones in her face shifted into human guise, so she was just a blue-eyed girl with curls, again. "If real men are like you, I don't wanna know where they put it."

The neighborhood wasn't lucky, it was those teenagers. With them in earshot, Wyatt wouldn't force the issue, and Gavin wouldn't have to make a choice. But it wouldn't take the kids long to put the pedal to the metal. Stepping backwards, she added, "Later, alligator." Rose felt a gulf between her boyfriend and herself. What a long way they were from that beach hotel in Texas. She wished he could run, too, and leave Wyatt standing in the dust. She hadn't even gotten to touch him.

She took off running, putting precious seconds between herself and them. Her tiny, white shoes bounced on the asphalt. As she ran, worries chasing her heels, nipping at her like dogs. Would Gavin listen to what Wyatt said? Would he resent her for striking his packmate? Would he hate the yellow in her eyes? Would he remember why they couldn't be together, now that it stared him in the face? Would he follow her, or call her, and say it was alright?

There was a snort as Wyatt grinned, before spitting on the street close by the vampire's feet. "I'll find you." Eyebrows lifted momentarily as the younger werewolf stepped back, falling behind Gavin as if it were a mark of respect. Then he slung one arm around the Alpha's shoulder and laughed, "We both will, right Vine? Her nights are numbered." He watched as she turned to run, waving all the while as if they were close friends.

Gavin resisted from lashing out at Wyatt, but he dared not speak in fear of crucifying himself. Instead he watched helplessly as the woman he loved ran for her life. Well, un-life, rather. That had been the first time the werewolf had witnessed her true visage. Having expected to be repulsed, he was conflicted by the fact that he still recognized her. Maybe it was because he knew her, or maybe it was because he finally had a good look at Wyatt, but the person who sickened him the most right now was his own pack-mate.