Feral Northern Shifters 2

long as cat, wanted to stay human. But his cat was frightened, his cat wanted to be able to defend himself against Doug, and his cat wasn’t listening to the human logic that said that if Ethan turned cougar again, he would be attacked, drugged, maybe killed.
The latter he could handle. But captivity and drugs… Ethan was going to lose it. More than he was losing it now.
So he paced, glancing from time to time at that corner of the room where the camera’s eye watched him. There might be other, less obvious cameras.
He dropped onto the bed and let his head fall into his hands. All this effort to capture him and hold him in this room, it didn’t make sense. He couldn’t fathom why they gave a fuck about his existence. Back when Gabriel had captured him, yeah, it had made sense. It had been a horror show, but it had made sense.
Eight years ago Ethan had consorted with a female werewolf—simply not allowed by “wolf law”, whatever the fuck that was and never mind that Lila had been a friend of his mother’s and, afterwards, a mother figure. In trying to protect Lila, Ethan had killed a werewolf—and was consequently punished for this act of murder. When Ethan had fought that punishment every step of the way, Gabriel had seen fit to use torture.
An awful kind of logic in all that, but still logic. Now? Not so much.
Not so much a way to escape either. Last time he’d been able to play dead for good reason. Now they fed him and hugged him.
Gawd.
If he had access to a phone—ha!—he’d dial that number Lila had given him long ago. She’d made him memorize it, saying the phone number belonged to a go-to guy if he ever got in trouble and couldn’t reach her. He’d never gotten a chance to use it, and neither had Lila.
Ethan still remembered those numbers. Some kind of ode to Lila, he supposed. If he had access to a phone, he’d be willing to see if this guy, yes another werewolf, would help a cat shifter. Obviously he was feeling desperate.
He threw himself back on the bed. What was the point of even thinking about it? Some stupid grasping at straws. Because, this many years later? Phone numbers changed. Besides a werewolf was going to think Doug’s treatment of Ethan was hunky-dory and exactly what a feral cat needed.
His skin began to tremble. It had been quite a while since he’d shifted from human to cat. He wasn’t quite comfortable with the transition anymore, though he used to be. If he were stronger, he’d fight it. Or maybe if he cared more he’d fight the cat off. But Bram was gone, scared away by God knows what. Ethan’s plea for help? Well, he supposed it was scary when you’re already at the bottom of the heap and someone even lower asks you to lend a hand. It wasn’t too difficult to recognize that Bram needed almost as much help as Ethan. Maybe more. At least Ethan recognized when he was being treated badly.
Bram seemed to have no such understanding of himself, seemed to think Doug was supposed to be an asshole.
Ethan pulled himself into a ball and turned on his side, putting his back to the camera. His heart began its long, sliding beat that presaged its own conversion to cougar. His bones began to melt into something else. His skin, no longer quite skin, prickled with heat, and his mind faded to gray. Enjoy the show, guys , was his last thought.
    “Hi, Doug.” Bram felt wary, but that was hardly a new emotion of his. Doug shouldn’t find it remarkable or out of line.
His alpha looked across at him, bored. He’d been leaning back on the chair, arms behind his head, and he brought himself forward. He gave Bram a lopsided grin, one Bram had always found endearing. “Funny, how something can be so boring and exciting at the same time.”
“Yeah.”
Doug eyed him, perhaps taking in Bram’s disapproval. “Not only is it best for Ethan, to go to people who can handle feral cats, it will help our pack, Bram.”
He swallowed, not wanting to hear this, not wanting to hear that Ethan’s existence and Ethan’s handover was a benefit to his pack.
“These people know about us wolves, they know about our headquarters, and they could cause us real trouble. However, if they regard us in a friendly light, if they see us as helpful, things will go better for us. That’s important. While knowledge of our existence”—Doug waved a finger between himself and Bram— “is not yet widespread in society, it probably will be one day. And even if we are never accepted as real, people in a