Outlaw Redeemed

Emrys, are you illiterate, or just too stupid to understand when someone wants nothing at all to do with you?

Hands shoved in his pockets, Emrys stared down at the neon orange words painted in the brilliant white snow, heart hammering erratically as other wolves gave a wide berth as they went past. A few snickering but one called out to him to give it up man, it’s beyond sad now.

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The wolf was right. Emrys knew it. He’d managed two weeks without leaving a note for his mate to find. But late last night, after the snow stopped and the rest of the town was silent, he’d crept back to the square. With the way the weather had been changing lately, it was probably the final snow of the season, his last chance to leave a message in what he was coming to think of as their spot. A glutton for punishment, that’s what he was. The whole time he was painting his question in the snow, he’d told himself he was being an absolute fool, hoping his mate had reconsidered wanting to meet him.

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That message had been drawn through with several angry black lines and stomped with heavy boot prints, clearly conveying his mate’s state of mind. The wolf wasn’t just annoyed now, but clearly angry that Emrys kept trying to get to know them, which was made perfectly clear by the second line of his response.

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If you were the only other wolf left in the universe, I’d choose to die alone rather than ever spend a single second in your company, now leave me the fuck alone, before I tell the people you’re running from where and how to find you.

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Shaking, Emrys felt the first stirrings of a panic attack kicking in. He knew. His mate knew who he really was. Kicking at the snow he scattered it, destroying the message, leaving little more than splatters of orange randomly dotting the trampled mess. Glancing around, he saw several wolves watching from the sidewalks, others with their heads together, whispering. At least they stopped short of pointing at him.

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Some faces he recognized, others he didn’t, and one…

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He couldn’t breathe. Clawing at the zipper of his coat he tried to undo it, but his field of vision was narrowing, and his hands kept fumbling and forgetting what to do. Finally, he just yanked it off over his head, nearly choking himself in his haste to get it off. The t-shirt he wore beneath offered no real protection from the elements, not that he cared as he let the coat slip from his fingers.

Blinking, he struggled to focus, telling himself there was no way in hell the wolf watching from the sidewalk was Sydney, Sy was dead. There was no coming back from getting one’s head taken off by a tow chain.

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Logic wasn’t enough to slow his heartbeat, or still the twitching in his fingers and the panicked urge to run and hide somewhere no one would think to look for him. Even when the guy moved, and sunlight struck his hair, showing the shades of reds and golds shimmering in brown strands that weren’t dull like Emrys, but alive with colors, it was difficult to separate what he was seeing from his memories.

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“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

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The voice in his ear, and the soft touch on his arm, now that grounded him. Only one person in his life sounded like that, and he was grateful as hell for Zane’s appearance now. The small wolf picked up his coat and handed it back to him, Emrys hugging it to his chest when he did. He’d have stood there like his feet were glued to the spot if Zane hadn’t taken charge and steered him away from the square and the remnants of those words.

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Zane said nothing as they walked, he just steered Emrys down the street and around the corner, directing him the whole four blocks back to the apartment he and Dalton shared which was a good thing, because Emrys couldn’t manage to get his brain to kick in gear and take over. Even inside, it was Zane who propelled him to sit at the kitchen table, Zane who put the kettle on for tea, and Zane who hung up both their jackets before getting the mugs ready. His one pause was to pull out his cell phone and type out a simple text, probably to his mates.

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“They threatened to tell the Outlaws how to find me,” Emrys said softly. “In their message in the show, they said to leave them alone, or they’d tell the people I was running from how to find me.”

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“How’d they find out about them, and who you really are?”

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Emrys looked at him and threw his hands up. “I don’t know. None of you would have told them.”

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“Who else knows?”

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“Just your dad and Cormac, and they wouldn’t have said anything either.”

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“You’ve never performed under your true name, and we’ve never performed anywhere near Outlaw territory,” Zane mused. “They’d have had to contact different packs until they’d found someone who could identify you.”

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“Which means even if they didn’t tell them where I was, yet, they know I’m still alive, and they know what I’ve changed my name to, and they know I’m a member of the band,” Emrys said, the ramifications of that hitting like a crowbar to the back of the knees. He was glad he was sitting down or he’d have wound up on the kitchen floor. “I can’t perform anymore.”

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“Bullshit,” Zane said as he rounded the table to hug him from behind. “Touring wouldn’t be safe, but performing? There are plenty of wolves right here who would love to see us play, and if we want to share our music with others, we can put it up on a streaming service. Was kinda leaning in that direction anyway. No way I could just leave my pups for days at a time nor would I want to take them out into the human world with me.”

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“You’re right,” Emrys admitted. “I can’t picture you getting in that RV without them, but to take them wouldn’t be safe. Here is safe. It’s the safest place I’ve ever known.”

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“Me too.”