Gev walked by the bank of elevators that people crowded onto. “Executive privileges,” he said, bypassing the crowd and heading around the corner. There was another elevator with a black box next to it. Gev waved his wallet in front of the box, and the lights dinged. The doors opened, and the two men stepped inside the nicely marbled elevator.
“Wow, this is nice,” Byron said.
Gev pressed 17, and the elevator sped up. “Faster, too.”
“Too fast for a quickie, huh?”
Gev put his hand on the emergency stop.
“I’m joking!”
Gev laughed, and took his hand away from it. Instead, he kissed his lover. The elevator let them off on the 17th floor, and they walked around to a set of glass doors. Through those, and Vicenzo walked by people’s desks and cubicles, saying hello and introducing Byron. It took about an hour to get to Vicenzo’s office, which was at the far end of the cubicle farm, and encased in mahogany and cream walls. His secretary had a collection of beanie babies at her desk, and tons of pictures. Byron wondered how – or if – she ever got any work done.
“Buon giorno, Signore Romano,” she said, standing up and smiling.
“Bella, this is Byron, my fiance.”
“Fiance?” She smiled at Byron. “Congratulations, Signore.”
“Get some coffee and muffins delivered up here, please? I will be in meetings all morning.”
“Of course, Signore.” She sat down and got on the phone. Byron followed Vicenzo into the office proper. The view was beautiful, a skyline of Rome.
Byron went to the window and gazed out of it. “You’re giving up this, for me?” he said quietly.
“You’re worth it, mio amore,” Gev said, coming up behind him and nuzzling into this neck. “And not all of it. Just a large amount. It’s about time I do that anyway.”
They stayed like that until someone knocked on the door, and Gev called for them to come in. Someone from the cafeteria brought in a platter of muffins and a carafe of coffee. Following him was Nico. “You wanted to see me this morning, signore?” he asked.
“Nico, if you would be so kind, could you have someone take Byron around this morning and show him what we do.”
“I can do it myself,” he said.
Byron immediately thought, Suckup, but said nothing. After sharing a muffin and a coffee with Gev, he then followed Nico out and around. Byron felt like a new employee being shown where everything is. He also felt out of place, especially when a vice president or whatever upper-management title Nico held was the one taking him around.
A couple of times, Nico had to take emails and calls, but in general he was attentive. It took about three hours to tour everything, and then another half hour of chit-chatting in the company cafeteria. Nico was married to a nice French girl, bringing new blood into the pack. He admitted to spending more time working than at home, but she didn’t seem to mind. “She’s got everything she wants – horseback riding, girlfriends to hang out with, money to spend…”
“Except you.”
Nico shrugged. “She doesn’t need me.”
Byron hoped against hope that Gev would never turn into the man sitting in front of him. Nico dropped Byron off back at Gev’s office, and Gev took him to a posh restaurant two doors down that seemed to cater to the upper-management set. Byron sat in on some of the meetings, held in Italian, feeling like the kid who was brought to work by a parent because he had no other place for him to be.
However, Byron could watch Gev quietly. He saw as Gev took command of situations, told them what needed to be done – he thought – and then the rest of the group would nod or do whatever he said. This is what made him an alpha, and this is what made him love him.
After work, Byron and Gev went to another fancy restaurant, this one with, of all things, Mexican food. They talked about small things, but the place was too noisy for conductive conversation. Back in the limo, they were too busy for conductive conversation.
Day 4: A ox msowytp. (I am chalnjd)
The morning sun was warm on his skin as he ran through the woods near the villa. He remembered the trail they took as wolves, and had resolved he would run to the sheep fields and back. He leaped over some logs, and kept right on going down the trail.
He heard something behind him. He stopped, breathing heavily, and looked. Nothing was there. He turned to go back down the trail when he heard the rustle of the brush to his right, and another to his left. He stayed still, waiting. He didn’t have a mace, so he reached for a stick in the ground, keeping an eye on his right side.
It came at him from the left, as he expected, and Byron rolled in the brush with it. It was a wolf, its jaws already going for Byron’s throat. Byron got his knees under it and shoved it up and off, changing as he did. His clothes ripped, and he crouched, half-man, half-wolf, his own fear realized.
Something bit his thigh, and he swung his hand down, missing it. He saw it among the trees, though it was the same rusty color as the brush. The other was a lighter color, a simple gray wolf, and both were snarling and snapping at him.
Byron got a tree at his back, and faced the two. He had broken his stick, so tossed it aside. The gray wolf pounced, just as the rusty one did also. He grabbed the gray as it jumped, but the red was going right for his crotch. He turned to the side and got a good chunk of his upper thigh taken out of him. Yet he was more distracted by the squirming gray in his arms.
He started to squeeze at the gray’s throat. The rusty one sank fangs into his muscular arms, but he didn’t feel it, so intent he was on crushing the gray’s windpipe. Then he tilted the gray sideways, leaned back, and tossed the gray down hard onto its back. The gray yelped, and scrabbled its front legs. Its back legs weren’t moving.
The rusty one went for his face, but Byron ducked, and it got a mouthful of tree instead. Byron elbowed the beast hard, in between the ribs of his chest, and he felt something give way. The rusty one whined, injured, and fell to the brush.
Byron made his full change into a wolf, leaving his ratty clothes behind, and he bolted off into the woods. He felt his blood pumping out of his thigh, but also felt it healing from the outside in. His running was arrhythmic at first, but then as he healed he was faster.
He got out into the villa’s compound and ran past the guards, one of whom opened the door for him. He skidded on the marble floor, scenting for Gev. He dashed toward the kitchen, but Gev met him in the dining room. “Mio amore, what happened to you?” he asked, bending down to inspect him. Byron whined, and turned to go upstairs; he wasn’t going to change here and end up being naked, possibly in front of his mother.
Gev would have none of it, though, and held onto him, still checking him over. Byron thought that the worst possible thing would be his mother coming in, so as he knelt in Gev’s arms, he changed. “I was attacked,” was the first words that came out of his mouth. “I took care of them.”
“Attacked? By who?” Byron had seen Gev this angry. It preceded an explosion.