Unwilling Ch. 01

I have read lots of stories about werewolves in the last few weeks, and I found most of them to be lacking something. Don't get me wrong, I loved most of them and gave 5 stars, but I'm not a fan of instant romance, or instant soul-mating on that behalf.

So, as a form of protest I came up with my own story and tried to dodge the instant happiness in favor of drama and more realistic building of relationships. If you're into classic "Alpha-shifter stories", this one probably won't meet your tastes.

This is an edited version of my story. Any similarities to real locations, people or events are unintentional. You may not duplicate, copy or distribute any parts of this story without my explicit (written!) consent.

~* Jared *~

Jared was tired. His eyelids drooped every few seconds and he had to blink and roll his eyeballs to re-wet them and stay awake. The west wing of Statsby Hall lay before him, promising a bed, a bath, and most important of all: peace of mind.

Damn that twenty-two hour drive! Maybe Jared should have stopped somewhere along the way, but he hadn't wanted to waste even a second in his quest to get as far away from his family as possible. Ever since his application to Banes Central University had been accepted and he had gotten a rugby scholarship, Jared hadn't been able to sit still. Every extra day he had spent at home he had literally loved his family into pieces, just by living with them and being what he was.

But now Jared, finally, was free. He felt so relieved that he nearly fell asleep with his hands on the steering wheel and the motor of his little Volkswagen Beetle still running.

The act of unfolding his six-foot-two-inch frame out of the tiny driver's seat made him grunt and grumble, and when his feet finally found their way to the concrete ground he stumbled about a bit and had to lean against the side of his car to get his bearings.

Jared was a guy with broad shoulders, sinewy, powerful arms and the sunny, tanned exterior of a California surfer boy. He was someone who should lean against a nice BMW sports car, or a muscle car, but not against THAT. When people saw Jared next to the tattered old car, their brain often refused to make the connection between the hunk and the nerd-chariot. In their minds, there was no way Jared could ever fit into that thing. But since it was the last thing Jared had left to remember his grandpa by, swapping it for a more modern car was out of the question.

With a sigh, Jared looked up to the baby blue sky above. Only a few more minutes, then he could collapse onto his new bed and sleep. What a relief!

Jared patted the left back pocket of his shaggy jeans where he kept the folded documents for his application, shoved his dead-tired carcass away from the car, and scuffled toward the main entrance of Statsby Hall.

That's when it hit him. Literally. The boomerang came out of nowhere, but that didn't ease the force of its collision with Jared's head. He didn't hear the shocked scream of the girl that had thrown it; he simply went down like a log.

He woke when he felt someone shaking his shoulders and blinked away dozens of shiny stars. The daylight hurt his eyes, but his head hurt even worse. "Ow! Damn," he mumbled, but his own words sounded hollow and far away. Then the world came back, crashing into his senses.

"Oh gosh, are you okay? Hey, can you hear me?" a female voice asked. Jared opened his eyes again and looked up into the blanched face of a pretty, brown-haired girl. She looked ready to faint, but kept shaking him bravely. "Come on, pal! Say something!"

"What was that-- are you Australian?" Jared mumbled, touching the side of his face. He felt a welt and some crusts, and when he looked at his fingertips, he saw blood. Ah, gorgeous! Not even inside his new home and already he had gotten attacked. The only thing missing was another Alpha living on-campus and another round of fights for dominance over a piece of land he had no interest in whatsoever, and this place would be just like home.

"Pretty cliché, huh? Don't move, you have a concussion," she drawled, pushing his hand away from the wound. "You are lucky you're not dead. I'm lucky you're not dead," she mumbled, then she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and pressed it onto the head wound.

Jared felt his wolf raise to the unintended challenge on his dominance and took the handkerchief off her to hold it in place by himself. Luck had nothing to do with him not being dead, although he could hardly tell her that. The girl smelled like a human and obviously meant well, but a hurt werewolf was dangerous and unpredictable. And a hurt, dominant werewolf might just try to attack anyone who tried to help him. Killing a werewolf with a boomerang would have been an impressive feat; killing a human teen would just have been sad.

"I'm alive, I guess," he groaned and then slowly sat up. A small flock of students had gathered around to watch them, and that made Jared even more nervous. He got up even though his stomach tried to crawl up his gullet.

"Whoa, you are so not alright!" she scoffed, and tried to support him by grabbing his arm. He swallowed a growl in her direction but tensed under her fingers, thinking calm thoughts at his wolf-instincts. He managed to hold still and to keep the snarl from his lips, but he couldn't relax. Not yet.

"It's just a bit of blood," he assured her, then threw a hard glance at the crowd and barked, "Move on people, nothing to see here!"

"I'm Darla. My middle name is take-you-to-the-sick-room. Come on, big boy," the girl said resolutely, pulled his arm and started dragging him towards the entrance of the student residence.

It was either rip her apart or just submit to her insistence. Jared contemplated version one for a good ten seconds, then hung his head and shuffled after her. He was simply too tired to stay angry for long.

The sick room was on ground level, right next to the students' admissions bureau. Jared threw a longing gaze to the sign when they passed it, wishing he could just shake off that boomerang-throwing hell strumpet and go in there to get assigned to his room. But Darla was unshakable in her quest to get him patched up, and she tugged at his arm demandingly when he slowed down.

"Come on mate, just a few steps more," she insisted.

Jared could have easily broken free. Hell, he could have easily punched a hole into the wall, and without a scratch to show for it, but humans didn't do things like that. And heterosexual humans were into beautiful, exotic women like Darla. Jared was neither human, nor heterosexual, but this was supposed to be a new start, a new, better life. He didn't want to risk it all on the first day.

But then he smelled something strangely familiar. Suddenly Darla didn't have to pull him along, because Jared sped up, his nose filtering the air for that scent that wafted through the corridor.

Werewolf.

Jared felt his lips curl when he instinctively bared his teeth to the sudden hint of danger. He wanted to growl, but a wry look from Darla made him close his lips and lick them to get the strange numb feeling out of them. Was there another werewolf on campus? Was this pack territory?

Another cloud of musky fragrance hit his senses and made his fingers all tingly with excitement. A male, young and close by.

"Here we are," Darla said, sounding very relieved when she pushed open the door and pulled Jared inside.

And there he was, standing right next to a big shelf full of strange flasks. Jared dug his heels into the linoleum floor when a piercing gaze from the other werewolf struck him. Even the need to play charade with humans wouldn't have made him step into the home of another werewolf uninvited.

He was just a little shorter than Jared, slim and lanky, with hair black as raven's feathers and stunning blue eyes, like those of a Siberian Husky. His skin was pale, like carved ivory, but dark circles underneath his eyes hinted towards a strain and exhaustion his gaze didn't let on.

Meanwhile, his eyes fell first on Jared's bloodied face and the handkerchief still sticking to his head wound. It then wandered down and inspected his and Darla's hands holding each other. His upper lip curled to a half snarl, but he seemed to get Jared's dilemma quickly.

"Come in; sit down," he said, and his voice crawled right into Jared's groin. Jared felt paralyzed, hypnotized, but another harsh tug from Darla made him move forward again. Realizing that he had stared, Jared glimpsed around in the room. He didn't lower his gaze even though he was in the territory of another were, because it would have meant that he surrendered to his presence -- something he couldn't, wouldn't do. This was the same problem that had gotten him kicked out of his last pack, and nearly ruined his family. Dominance.

Some werewolves would have attacked him even for that little impertinence, but this one just flicked his tongue disapprovingly and motioned Jared over to one of the examination tables. "Sit, please," the dark stranger emphasized with twitching lips while his eyes followed Darla and her heroic attempts to shove Jared around like an unruly kid. Her behavior seemed to amuse him, but then Jared was pretty sure that the sight was amusing and unusual. It didn't happen that often that a full grown werewolf was bossed around by a human, and that little lady had guts.

When Jared finally sat on the table she turned around and blushed. "I hit him with a boomerang in the head. It was an accident," she said, then started to rummage through her pockets and produced a small business card. Here's my contact information, please contact my insurance for this. It was entirely my fault."

Jared watched them in silence. Okay, so he watched the face of that other werewolf like a lovestruck teen, but at least he listened to both of them. Darla sounded sincere in her description, and since he didn't have his new contact information yet, her offer was a big help. It calmed Jared a bit, but it didn't help against his headache or his exhaustion.

"Darla McIntire," the pale wolf read, and then smiled cynically. "I'll make sure everything is handled properly. Now please excuse me, I've got a hunting injury to tend to." With those words he pointed at Jared's head and shooed her towards the exit.

Darla trotted towards it, but looked over her shoulder when she reached the door. "I'll come visit you later to apologize properly, okay?" Her eyes had a strange flicker in them, a certain starry quality Jared had seen all too often. Another girl that fell for the golden bronze hulk; he should have seen it coming.

"Okay. Thanks, Darla," he said and waved with one hand, just to get her out of there.

When the door clicked shut behind her, Jared turned his head just far enough to look at the other were out of the corner of his eyes. Silence unfurled and crawled into every corner of the room, away from the two werewolves eyeing each other.

Finally, the strange one broke the spell. "I'm a paramedic," he said, "and I know you are not seriously hurt, because if you were, that chick would be corned beef now." He hadn't moved an inch, but he started to lift one hand. When Jared growled, he stopped instantly, froze, and then rolled his eyes. Dislike rolled off his posture in thick, numbing waves. "Growling, really? I have to patch you up at least a little bit. Too many people have seen your bloody kisser already."

This time he didn't move until Jared sighed and nodded, but the were's face kept his unhappy, exasperated expression when he finished the gesture and tugged the piece of cloth from Jared's wound.

It hurt like a bitch, but Jared didn't let his pain show. "What's your name?" he asked instead, mainly to get his mind off the burning wound. He was more than curious now, even though the other werewolf looked thoroughly annoyed.

"Darwin." The answer was short, clipped and unhappy. "I'll clean that. It'll burn. Please hold still," he murmured and pulled a brown glass bottle out of the shelf next to the table.

Jared's eyes followed the new object in Darwin's hands curiously because his wolf demanded it. The horny teen inside him wanted to stare at Darwin's face. "Is this your territory?" Jared asked as Darwin drenched a wound dressing in clear liquid. The stench of disinfectant crept into his nose and tainted the wonderful aroma of werewolf, but Jared had already transferred Darwin's personal scent to memory.

"No." Again the answer was short and clipped, impatient, and unfriendly. Darwin concentrated on Jared's forehead and started cleaning the half healed cut, brows drawn together and wrinkled. "This university is on the outskirts of the Banes pack territory, but it's off limits to hunts and... diplomatic interactions." His voice sounded far away and strained with the necessity to talk.

Of course Jared knew what "diplomatic interactions" meant: brawls, fights, and kills. It did sound logical; like at every other university or college there were surely dozens of other weres passing through every year, staying for a while, studying and leaving again. No reason to risk their camouflage. A necessary evil for every bigger city pack.

When Darwin was finished with cleaning Jared's forehead, he turned around, presented his back to him and went over to the sink. He produced a lighter out of his pocket and set the used wound dressing on fire. Even though the gesture seemed so unimportant and natural it told Jared something very unexpected: Darwin was not a dominant werewolf. No dominant would have ever turned their back on a strange and injured were. Only submissives wouldn't think that far. They had no reason to.

Jared wouldn't have pegged Darwin for a submissive, but now his libido went on overdrive. He scented the air again, but it was of no use -- the disinfectant still killed every scent in the room, making him practically nose-blind.

Darwin's voice cut through the rutty thoughts Jared delved into, clear as glass. "If you think you can come here, get all worked up over my ass, and get what you want, you are so very wrong." His pale face held an icy glare; his lips were curled in a warning snarl. He tore a slip of paper off his clipboard, held it out for Jared to take, and growled, "Here's your sick leave certificate. Now get out of my sight."

Jared didn't have a choice. If he didn't want to fuck up and anger the local pack on his first day he had to obey, but damn, it was the hardest thing he had ever done. He wanted to punch Darwin, throw him against a wall, throttle him, anything to show him what dominance meant -- But he couldn't. Instead he hissed, "Like I would like to tap that ugly mug of yours," and stomped out, nearly cracking the door as he slammed it behind him. The bang it produced echoed through the building. Damn, that little bastard got him going good!

An hour later Jared was finally able to collapse onto his new bed and close his eyes. He was too tired to snarl when the last picture his mind produced before fainting was Darwin's face.

~* Darwin *~

It had been a long day. Darwin flipped the light switch of the university's sick room and closed the door before locking it. A damn long day with nine hours of constant visits. The first day of university always went like this, or so he had been told. With so many people moving into the building, carrying heavy loads, moving furniture, and finally, getting drunk after having finished the moving procedure, it was bound to happen. And the vicious circle was repeated every year: broken bones, sprained ankles, hurt backs, cut fingers, the whole hoopla.

No wonder the regular doctor had taken sick leave for today.

Not that Darwin minded the extra hours; he needed every penny he could make to be able to afford living on campus. With his father's house almost in walking distance, he didn't need to live in the student residence, but not having to go home every day was worth the work, the tears, and the missed sleep. Because of him. Not his father, he loved his father, but the other male person that mattered in his life -- his Alpha.

Shuddering violently, he turned away from the door and started marching down the corridor. Must not think of that man. Every time he thought too hard about him he couldn't sleep for hours. The insomnia had gotten worse since he had moved into Statsby Hall, but the lack of sleep still didn't trump the stuff that had happened to him when he had still lived at home.

Don't think about that! he cursed himself and hastened his steps. Think about something else!

That new werewolf for example.

His dick twitched instantly and thickened again. He had had a hard time calming that damn thing down after meeting Jared. He had been in a state of constant, vague arousal since that guy had left the sick room, and it had only lessened when he had just thought of his Alpha. His libido seemed persistent though, and not easily intimidated. That hunk had looked like a sleepy force of nature, his gaze piercing, muscles rippling even on the verge of total exhaustion. Just watching him had given him an instant boner that, luckily, had been hidden by his white doctor's coat.

Darwin still hated himself for his stupid performance that morning. He worked so hard on keeping a dominant facade, and he had managed it so well too -- only to be thrown off his game by a blond, stupid, arrogant, single-minded, hunky, gorgeous werewolf. That guy hadn't even done anything, he had just sat there and stared at Darwin with bleary, reddened eyes like a coked up junkie on a trip.

And his smell! Mary, mother of Christ, he had smelled like sunshine and heated granite, with a spicy, musky note of wildness. It had driven Darwin mad with lust, until... well, until he had remembered his own life and how he'd never be able to actually have a relationship with a dominant wolf and survive it. No, it was easier to settle on hating him, pushing him away as far as possible. Keep his distance. Be a dick and scare him off, if need be, just stay away from the temptation. After all, what did he have to gain otherwise? Love? Love didn't keep him breathing. Love didn't keep his father safe. Love didn't matter.

Darwin squared his shoulders and started walking. Love doesn't matter, right?

When he woke next morning, the images of strange, disturbing dreams clung to his mind like cobwebs. Dreams of naked bodies, sweat, groans and sighs, and a feeling of fullness he had missed for a long time. They haunted him until he took an ice cold shower, and even then he had to lay a hand on his dick to get his rocks off and fit that damn thing into his cycling shorts.

Today was gymnastics training and a glance at his bedside clock showed that he was already late. He hated being late. Gymnastics club was one of the few things Darwin did just because he loved it. He would have had more time to work if he dropped that club, but it would also have killed something inside him to give it up.

The gym was located next to Statsby Hall and Darwin had already changed in his room, so he skipped the locker rooms and went directly into the hall. His gymnastics team was warming up in the left part of the giant, airy building and his friend Harry waved at him as soon as he saw Darwin. "Where have you been? Coach Ronson asked for you," he whispered when Darwin reached the group.

"Long night," Darwin mumbled and sank to the floor to join their stretching. Harry just grinned at him and went back to straining his back muscles.

On the right side of the hall another group of athletes were waiting for football tryouts, but Darwin didn't spare them a glance. The sight of jocks always made his stomach feel funny and he despised that helpless, giddy mood. He didn't need some jock catching him salivating over their behind and beating him up later.