Feral Northern Shifters 2

did. At least it made Ethan weary of fighting. Though he was a fool to relax, the hold tempted him, and he stopped struggling. After a moment, exhaustion reasserted itself, and despite everything, he laid his head back on the wolf’s shoulders and simply breathed. He had never felt so bone-tired in his life.
The wolf could go for the jugular and Ethan wouldn’t have the ability to stop him. Were they starving him, was that their plan? He began to pant in fear, but also with terrible hope, because whoever held him had yet to hurt him.
No teeth, just a nuzzle, and a sound of…satisfaction? Relief?
“Ethan?” Kind of tentative the way Ethan’s name was said. “Can you speak?”
But Ethan lolled against his captor while his chest shuddered, breaths going in and out, grateful that today there were no knives, no claws.
They made him drink then. He hadn’t even realized he was thirsty until another’s hands guided him to the glass. Fluid at his lips, he started gulping and continued till nothing was left. His eyelids fell shut, the drinking having worn him out, so once again he laid his head against the wolf and fell asleep.
    Again, Ethan woke, and he was hungry this time. Of course, the ever-present hands were on him, but they did not invoke alarm or make him recoil, despite the alienness of it all. His human welcomed the embrace and he rested against the manwolf, grateful his mind was not in a churning panic at this moment. Could one get used to this bizarre existence?
    Very slowly Ethan opened his eyes and bright light didn’t assail them. The room was dimly lit and unlike his previous wakings, Ethan felt capable of taking in what surrounded him. It seemed as if his vision, or whatever part of his brain processed his vision, was now working.
    It was a small room, not well furnished, just the bed they sat upon, a chair and a table. Ethan looked around for the second wolf, the alpha who offered drinks and made dire warnings, but there was only the one captor.
Who was, unlike himself, dressed.
    “Hey.” That same soothing voice which was becoming unnervingly familiar, even if it was a false familiarity. They were playing on his weaknesses.
Despite the futility of it all, Ethan bucked against the hold that, as a matter of course, tightened. That face landed on his neck, right at the tendon, nuzzling, not-quite-kissing, and Ethan shivered and stopped struggling. Let out a long, shaky breath that revealed too much. But his captor had not used his tears or his exhaustion to torment him. Not yet.
Tempted to once again lean back against the wolf, Ethan instead used what little was left of his pride to sit more upright. He searched for his cat and found him, found the cat was no longer furious, no longer desperate to escape. Both halves of Ethan were nervous, but also puzzled.
“What”—Ethan had to clear his rough throat before continuing—“the hell is going on?” He’d wanted to sound matter-of-fact, but there was a thready aspect to his voice that embarrassed him, even if it was in part caused by disuse. He’d been human so long ago, and his cat wasn’t much one for speech.
The hold relaxed a fraction and his captor waited, probably expecting Ethan to struggle again. But Ethan worked to stay still.
“I’m Bram.” Not exactly an answer.
Ah, yes. One of them , but Bram had lurked in the background years ago, a skinny, frightened, bangedup teenager. He hadn’t touched Ethan, for whatever that was worth. Probably not much. Ethan needed to keep up his guard without getting uselessly panicked.
“Bram,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
Ethan hoped for more explanation, but none came. “Uh, why are you holding me like this?” “I’m sorry.”
At the words, for he couldn’t fathom what this stranger was sorry for, Ethan tried not to show his fear, because wolves could smell everything, and they let you know it. Bram’s face came back to his neck, moved forward towards his throat, and Ethan found himself sinking into Bram’s hold. He wanted to turn, to return the embrace. His foolish, foolish human was as weak as he’d always known him to be. No wonder the cat had kept such a stranglehold on his existence. It was the only way to survive.
“Ethan.” Even Bram’s voice relaxed him. “I’m holding you so you don’t hurt me.”
His entire body reacted in surprise at this strange admission. Strange lie , he corrected himself. This one was a liar. Still, name-calling wouldn’t get him far, whereas questions