#wolf shifter

Simon is in heaven.

The three other wolves pout by their warm spots by the fireplace, watching as you give Simon the full treatment. You checked him over incessently, making sure you didn't cripple the wolf beyond repair. Technically, Simon has already healed, but you don't need to know that.

Simon is milking the attention.

A whine gets him water. A soft tail wag gets him scratches behind his ears. You are wracked by the thought of how docile these wolves are once again, yet you can't bring yourself to care when your new companions, for however long, surround you. Big, plush bodies made to be cuddled.

If they'd let you.

You aren't quite sure you can breach that boundary. You can. The four wolves would be more than happy to rub their scent all over you and drape themselves over your form. It doesn't help that your house is the coziest they had in a long time.

You left to go clean up for a bit. Simon gets up, shaking off his body as he stretches. It definitely wasn't fun being slammed across the road by a metal contraption, but thankfully, he was still in a state where he could heal.

Most of the kinks are definitely gone.

Johnny stares him down, chuffing as Simon works on getting feeling back into his muscles. It feels good to move after a bit of pretending he was crippled. Whatever gets him easy access to you, though. He is no less a mutt than the other three shifters.

They're all desperate.

Even Price has been heavily attuned to you. He keeps closer to you and Simon when you two are together, hoping to look simply like an overprotective Pack Alpha. Inside, he is burning because he loves how sweet you smell.

They need something like you.

As soon as your footsteps approach again, Simon lifts up a paw and feigns injury. Gaz sighs and completely turns himself around, snout pressing close to the fire. Price and Johnny just keep watching him.

And it gets the reaction he wanted when you coo and rush to him. Asking him why he is trying to be brave when he's obviously in pain. The tail wag that follows as you encourage Simon back down into his bed is an insult to Price and Johnny.

Johnny clambers to his feet, looking right at you as he lifts his own paw and pretends to limp.

You chuckle and move towards him. "Silly little guy, you like playing?" You ask.

Johnny is content as he also gets his head scratched.

The whole situation is surreal to you. Four, should be aggressive animals, are completely docile in your home. Maybe you should wait for the other shoe to drop, but you've always been a sucker for cute things.

You are oblivious to the fact that Kyle has disappeared from the fire. Well, Price knew. He heard the nails clicking against the hardwood floor and watched his furred form disappear to the back rooms. Though he couldn't be bother to care. You'll notice eventually, so will the others.

It takes all but five minutes before you turn to look at the fire. Confusion morphs your face. Where'd one of them go? You look around, but he is gone.

You stand up, walking to the back rooms. Johnny follows you eagerly. He is also suspicious of Kyle and doesn't want him to get dibs on something before he does.

But dibs he has gotten.

You find the missing wolf, snout deep in your dirty hamper. He's sniffing around, shamelessly lifting his head as he blinks at you. You sigh and push him away from the hamper.

As you turn around again, now Johnny has his snout buried, and his tail is wagging a mile a minute.

"No!" You exclaim. "Out both of you!"

The two wolves scamper away, and you make sure to close your bedroom door to avoid that again. You can sense troublemakers on the horizon, and that part you're reluctant about. Maybe if you keep scolding, they'll eventually learn.

Something in your brain tingles and tells you that is a big lie.

You sit down next to Simon, rubbing along his spine. He snorts and shifts, leaning into you as he tries to fall asleep. They're all so sweet it makes your heart hurt.

A few moments later, a dry nose pokes your shoulder, and you turn to see the alpha. You're still intimidated by him, that's no doubt. He lies down right behind you, though.

Honestly, could you even be mad if they end up ripping your face off. Just the fact you got four wolves in your vicinity is enough.

X

You feel Cassian's heat behind you, and you try to ignore the way a wave of arousal immediately shoots to your core. You press your legs together as you walk, needing any bit of pressure to relieve the sudden ache. You never imagined mating the alpha of your pack, having the most explosive sex of your life, and then being told "it's just biology" as you were swiftly pushed out the door once your heat had passed. But that happened. And then it happened again when you got your next heat, and then again. Before you knew it you were in a for-heat-only relationship with your alpha. You never asked why and he never offered an explanation. So, this time around, you decided enough was enough— you'd find a way out of this mess.

Except now you are certain you're going into heat but you had been so sure you had more time— you had planned it all out so carefully. You wonder briefly if you could get away with handling it yourself if you got far enough away from—

You're suddenly and roughly pulled into a cabin and as the scent of pine and cinnamon suddenly fills your lungs you realize Cassian has caught you. He pushes you up against the closed door and buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and reaching down to palm himself over his pants. "Fuck, you smell so good."

Your hands go up to push at his chest but instead you find yourself fisting the fabric of his flannel. You try to remember you were supposed to leave, that you didn't want this anymore but as he licks a stripe up the side of your neck every single thought disappears from your brain and all you can think is that you need him. Right now.

X

Your taste explodes on his tongue, and he feels every single drop of his blood go right to his cock. He feels the exact moment you stop fighting him (he will figure out why later, an almost forgotten part of his brain says) as your sigh fans over his temple. His hands go to your waist and slip under the waistband of your shorts, as he reaches down to cup your mound. He immediately slips two fingers through your folds, feeling a deep growl reverberate his chest as he finds you absolutely drenched.

He pulls back to lock eyes with you as he brings his fingers up to his nose. "Is this for me, baby?" You nod, almost against your will, and he smirks before sucking his fingers clean. "Of course it fucking is." His voice is gravelly and he is so on edge that he simply throws you over his shoulder, walks you to his room and tosses you onto the bed on your belly.

He rips your shorts and panties off and you lift your hips up to him, baring that gorgeous pussy for him. Your slick drips down the insides of your thighs and you whimper impatiently. He slips two fingers inside you, hooking them as he pumps them in and out a few times before pulling them out entirely. You start to whine and he smacks your ass, hard, making you mewl. He's about to lose his mind, he needs to stop playing. He pumps himself twice before lining himself with your entrance and burying himself fully inside in one thrust. You cry out, hands fisting the cover as he loses all semblance of control, pounding into you so hard and fast the headboard bangs into the wall with each thrust. He feels you start to clench around him and groans as you scream and writhe with your orgasm.

X

You are still reeling from your orgasm when Cassian leans down to wrap a hand around your neck, pulling you so that your back is arched to the point of pain as his thrusts get somehow faster. Your tits bounce and you reach up to pinch your nipples as you feel another orgasm building already. You're so full of him, so desperate for his cock, so delirious with pleasure, that you can't fathom what made you ever think you could live without this, without him. A distant almost faded part of you reminds you that he doesn't love you, that it's biology that makes him want you, that he is otherwise completely uninterested in you. Your mind starts to clear, and you start to pull away from him.

He pulls out of you and flips you so that you're lying on your back before entering you once again. You notice that he hasn't even taken his clothes off, so desperate to get inside you that he didn't think to do so. Through the fog you think about the women that swoon and blush around their mates. Do their mates kiss them? Do they look into their eyes while their bodies move against each other? You know you're not humans and so fucking like humans isn't something wolves do, but a part of you always thought maybe it would be different with a mate. Isn't your mate supposed to want to make you feel good and care for you? Your parents had hated each other, and they fucked like they did (you moved out as soon as you could), and you had always told yourself it would be different for you. And yet here you were, mated to a male that only wants you when your body tells him to.

X

Cassian watches as your mind wanders off. He is balls deep inside his female and she is thinking about something else. He growls low, desperate for some reason to have your eyes on his. The sound pulls you from his thoughts and your eyes focus on his. He feels something like electricity shoot down his spine as he watches your pupils dilate so much your eyes become almost full black. Your lips part and your hands come up to pinch your nipples and he looks down, entranced by the way your tits bounce and the way you roll the tight buds between your fingers.

Cassian has never been good with feelings or showing emotions— those things always seemed so useless to him as alpha. But the moment he mated you, the very second he entered you for the first time and felt you come on his knot, he knew he was well and truly fucked. He’s not proud of it, but the moment your heat had ended, and as his brain had gained some clarity, he pushed you away. He has hated himself for it all these years, hated the way your face had fallen as he pushed you out the door, hated that you avoided him afterwards— rightfully so. And before he could get his thoughts together your heat came again and he lost himself in your heat and your scent and the sweet sounds you make when you come for him. And it became this vicious cycle that he had no idea how to stop.

He feels his balls tightening and his ass clenching, so close to orgasm that the edges of his vision start to blur and just before he comes, he reaches down to cup one of your breasts, pinching your nipple the way he'd seen you do and the way you cry out his name before slamming your eyes tight and clenching around him tight pushes him right over the edge. He feels his knot swell inside you, and he leans down to bury his face in your neck again, licking the sweat there, and the taste of you makes him come even harder somehow. You mewl, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as you suck at the skin of his neck. He groans low, feeling his cock twitch inside you, somehow still not done coating your walls. His eyelids grow heavy all of a sudden, his body relaxing completely, and as his world starts to go black, he thinks he feels your lips and tongue trace his jaw.

X

Cassian falls asleep, turning on his side and tucking you tightly against his chest, and you watch him. His face is so calm, his eyelashes so long they brush his cheekbones. You reach up to touch the very edges, and his arms tighten around you, pulling you into his chest. The movement makes your swollen clit rub over his pelvic bone and you moan, closing your eyes and rolling your hips into his, slightly frustrated when his knot makes it so that you can't move too much. You growl softly, shifting your hips. One of his hands slides down to your hip and he pulls you against him, lazily thrusting up into you. You open your eyes to find him looking at your through half lidded eyes and you feel the same spark you felt run down your spine earlier again.

His eyes hold yours as he leans in closer, so close that the tips of your noses touch and his breath fans over your skin as he pants softly. You stay like that, eyes locked, as his hand slips between you, one of his fingers swiping over your clit gently, tenderly.

You feel yourself frown, confused at his sudden softness, and he frowns too, pulling his hand back. You look down at where your bodies still connect and then look back up at him. His knot has never stayed swollen this long before. You look up and it's like a door closed, his eyes are different and he looks almost... uncomfortable. Did your reaction throw him off? A part of you wants to let it go— the lines are blurring too much for your liking— but another part of you points out that he seems to be making some sort of effort. That part is willing to risk being hurt again just to have another tender touch from him.

He starts to pull away but you lean into him, keeping your eyes on his for a moment before looking down at his mouth. You press your lips to his, softly, and you feel him shiver ever so slightly. You decide to risk it and lick at the corner of his mouth. He groans suddenly gripping your hips tightly against him as he rolls onto his back, pulling you with him. His lips part and you lick into his mouth, rolling your hips into his as he bucks up into you languidly. And just like that, you’re kissing your mate. For the first time ever.

X

Cassian wonders for a second if it’s weak for a male to lie on his back while his female licks at his mouth like she’s hungry for more than his cock, but that thought quickly fades away when he feels his knot start to twitch as it slowly goes down. You’re so lost in his kiss that you barely notice when your hips start to come easier. He knows this because when his hands come to your hips, guiding your movements so you rise up and lower down instead of grinding against him, you gasp into his open mouth. He halts your movements then, carefully scooting up so his back is against the headboard, which brings you face to face with him.

Your eyes go wide for a second, then you roll your hips as if testing the new angle. His cock is so hard it’s almost painful, and he knows you’re ready for more too because your slick is dripping down his balls and your pupils are dilated. You start to lift yourself up off him but he holds you in place. You stare at each other for a long moment, a question in your eyes and a soft answer in his. You’ve never looked at each other while fucking, he almost always had you on all fours— as it should be. But earlier when you looked into his eyes it was like something locked into place. He’d never come so fast or so hard, even with you, his mate.

You look unsure as he guides you again, up and down, slowly, helping you ride his cock. Your hands are on his chest, nails digging into his flesh, and it only makes him harder. For the first time ever he wants to bite someone. He wants to bite you. Your movements pick up speed and he looks down to watch your tits bounce with each movement. He leaned down and catches one in his mouth, sucking the nipple hard and you cry out, movements picking up speed as your nails dig in so deep you pierce his skin. The scent of his own blood along with your combined arousals, and the slick sounds of his cock entering you again and again— it’s almost too much. Too fast.

He pulls you off him, turning to place you on your back on the mattress, as gentle as he can with how desperately he needs to get back inside you.

X

Cassian enters you in one swift moment and the feeling of being full to the brim with him is simply delightful. Completely blissed out and dazed from the sudden wave of heat that strikes you, you can’t think of a better place to be than in his bed. He fucks his come back inside you, the added lubrication making his movements even smoother, faster. Then Cassian pulls back a little, taking his eyes off your tits and watching where your pussy wraps around him, watching as his cock disappears deep inside you. Seeing the hunger in his eyes has a tightness building in your core that makes your toes curl.

But then the hunger changes, his eyes move up to yours and he leans down, his chest almost touching yours, and once again catches your eyes. You stare at him, so confused by the sudden change in his behavior that you don’t really think twice before reaching up with a hand and placing it on his cheek.

Where is the line?

X

Cassian has had clear lines for everything his entire life. It’s how he grew up, how he trains his fighters, how he runs the pack, how he approaches his mating.

But now, buried inside you, his movements languid and deep, eyes locked on yours, he once again feels the lines getting blurred. There is something different about this time. The animal takes over for minutes at a time and then just like he feels a desperate need to be inside you, to fill you with his seed, he now feels a need to look into your eyes. There is now a deep primal desire to satisfy you, to watch as your eyes glaze over, to make sure your needs are met. Before these times it had always been about the wolf. And now it was about you. You frowned up at him, most likely confused because the lines had always been clear for you as well.

He can’t stand that look on your face, the way you look away from him. He growls low and you close your eyes, still turned away. No.

“Give me your eyes.” His voice is gruff, but the gentle hand he places on your hip makes you turn to look at him again. “Just like that.” He murmurs the words, voice much softer than before.

You stay that way, eyes on him, though they go heavy lidded when he lifts your hips for a deeper angle. When he feels close to losing control he leans down and licks at the seam of your lips, groaning when you open for him, your tongue gliding over his. When he comes he pushes in as far as he can go, claming the deepest part of you as his. Tomorrow when you leave his cabin, you’ll have his scent coming out of your pores. He noses your neck, fangs elongating in preparation as the need to bite you begins to overpower him. You seem to realize this because you quickly reach up to cup his face, turning it towards yours and pressing a kiss to his lips.

Cassian pulls you tightly against him, trying to string together the words to express the desire— no the need to keep you at his side forever. But as he comes down from the high, looking down at your lovely face he realizes he has made a mistake.

Your eyes are distant, almost cold, as you gently but firmly push at his shoulders. When he lets you go you move to pick up your discarded clothing, pulling it back on quickly and efficiently. As he tries to get his bearings you turn to him, already making your way to the door, a polite smile on your lips.

“Thank you, for helping me with my heat.” Your voice is devoid of emotion and he is trying to understand what is going on but he can barely keep up with the emotions swirling in his mind.

As you turn on your heel to leave he finds his voice. “Stay, I—“

But unlike you and a majority of the population, there were outliers. Others that weren't partaken with conformity or willing to settle for such a thing known as ‘normality’. Mostly nut jobs, based on personal assumptions. Or even religious cultists and doomsday preppers. Or people too consumed with conspiracy theories and antigovernmental beliefs. The black sheep of the family. But among it all, you didn’t know where your grandparents aligned. Didn’t know if they were a little bit of the above or none at all. They were never heavily involved in your childhood or your teenage years. You had no memories of them. Only knew what was whispered between the adults. Questions brushed off when you got too curious for your own good. Denial when you happened to remember something small and stray. A fleeting memory, that was like sand grains in your palm. Rendered as nothing but a child’s wild imaginations or vivid dreams.

Or even the feign of ignorance when you found a Purple Heart behind a delve of old photographs. All collecting dust in an old shoebox when you were helping your parents go through old boxes for a spontaneous spring cleaning. You remembered your parents’ faces when you showed them the shoebox. Purple Heart in your palm, black-and-white photographs rifled through by your curiosity. They had a look of complete fear; wide-eyed, color drained from their faces and frozen in place. Before the shoebox was yanked from your hands and you were sent away to your room, excused from helping out. 

That was the last time you saw the shoebox. 

You remembered one time when you tried to sneak into their bedroom to find it, but to no avail. But that fear on your parents’ faces was unforgettable. As were the old monochrome photographs of blurry faces, of strangers. Just like the weight of the Purple Heart in your hand and the stain of grime and dust on your fingertips. Sometimes you wondered about the significance of it. Wondered why your parents acted the way they did that day. They never did answer your questions about it, told you they didn't know what you were talking about when you would bring it up.

And soon, just like many things in your life, it became nothing but an odd occurrence in your past. Something you tossed around your head before shrugging your shoulders and worrying about other things. But one thing stood out to you, one thing was certain as time passed. Those strangers in the photographs weren’t just some random faces in a crowd. They were your grandparents. Those unspoken, estranged family members scratched out in the familial records. And even more interesting, they were former military. 

Now, you were sitting in your break room. Mentally exhausted, physically tired. Ready to go home and snuggle underneath your bed covers, scrolling through your phone until bedtime. It had been a long and draining work week. More than you had thought possible. But it wasn’t unusual. The holidays were coming up which only meant more strenuous work and more tedious responsibilities -– but such was life was it not? Luckily, you were the only person in the break room. Able to take a breather and actually enjoy your break by yourself. Your social battery was completely depleted, and you were in no mood to socialize, let alone tolerate another presence in the same vicinity as you. 

Quietly brewing in your own thoughts, you thumbed against a piece of paper in your hand. One that had been just another envelope lost in your endless pile of mail on your side table: bills, notices, magazines, and flyers. You had stumbled upon it a few days ago when finally getting the motivation to sort through the accumulating pile. Inscription of a legal notice was across the front that made your heart drop into your chest, fingers shaking as you carefully tore the seal to fish out what was inside. A will, and all assets and inheritance named to you. From your supposed grandparents. The call that followed was interesting… for lack of a better word. You were the sole inheritor, no one else in your family was named. But none of your family had contested it. Not even your parents. Upon their death, your grandparents’ bodies were already taken care of; cremated and buried in a private graveyard in their hometown.   

You had taken note of the information given to you and made arrangements for your appointment with an attorney in regards to the probate. You had gone early yesterday morning, all legalities and protocols were explained to you. And in the following afternoon, with a few signatures, all assets and inheritance were now legally yours. Namely, and more intriguingly, a property out in Alaska was now under your name. Now, you eyed the document again. Still in disbelief. It all felt too good to be true. As if any second, you would wake up from a dream to a snoozed alarm and indentations on your skin from your sheets. Your eyes went to your blaring watch, realizing that your break was over. You folded the document, tucking it away in your pocket. Letting out a deep sigh, you forced yourself on your feet. It was going to be a long day…

Back at home, you collapsed on your couch. Bag, keys, and all. Too tired to walk to your bedroom. Too tired to even think. But underneath it all, there was relief as well. Not only from finally being at home after such a long and grueling day. But also from your time-off being approved. Which was surprising given such a short notice and the upcoming holiday season. You remembered the nervousness. The shock you felt when you got that approval email. Things were going too well for your liking. But there was no time to question it or mull over it. You supposed ‘urgent family emergency’ had been sufficient enough. Which was accurate, but you knew it would serve partly as much needed time away from life.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there lounging on your couch. But eventually, like you had in the break room, you forced yourself up on your feet to get ready for bed. You had another long work week ahead of you. All you needed to do was to tough it out and get through it. Then it was packing up and heading to Alaska to see that estate for yourself. Do some upkeep and maintenance if necessary, take time-off as you did so, and then simply sell it — land and all. Then it would be a piece of cake from there. A straightforward plan; a solid course of action. 

Now all you needed to do was book that flight.

------------------------------------------------

From above, the town of Fairbanks was a spectacle among all the wilderness. And, after hours of flying, it was also a sight for sore eyes. Fairbanks was much more than what you expected for a city out in the Alaskan frontier. With high-rise buildings, arching bridges, highways, downtown areas, residentials and beautiful wilderness just beyond. A beautiful city just waiting to be explored and experienced. But it was not your destination nor was there any time to tour it. You had another flight to catch immediately after yours landed. The property that was left to you was out further, in the outskirts of Fairbanks. In a small town; more rural, more remote. Driving there was feasible. The main highway went near enough to the small town, but it did not go thoroughly. Renting out a car and driving there was an option, but not something you wanted to do after such a long flight. The next best option you found was to take another plane there. And luckily, the town had an airstrip.  

With all your luggage behind you, you went to find the right terminal gate and the pilot that would take you there. The terminal was surprisingly busy. But expected given the upcoming season and it being in such a huge city. Though it wasn’t the worst, not too overcrowded or hectic, as it wasn’t a hindrance to walk around. You eventually found the terminal gate on the other side of the terminal, opposite to where your plane landed. The sitting area for the terminal gate was completely empty, save for a couple workers behind a tall desk. The sight of it made you double check that you were in the right area. But soon after checking, you sat down and waited for the boarding call. Which didn’t take long to be announced. 

You walked forward with your luggage. Confused when the workers didn’t take it to be packed away onto the plane. Instead you were escorted onto the tarmac and towards a noticeably small conventional aircraft ahead of you. There was a person near the wing of the plane in the distance. Rendered into a blurred figure in the sun, no matter how hard you squinted to make out any noticeable features. But as you grew nearer, the clearer the figure became; as did the plane. A man stood against an old Beechcraft. Wiping along the wing tips so affectionately that it made you feel that you were stumbling into a private moment. But as you approached, his head lifted up and the man’s focus waned. Attention now on you. 

His face immediately lit up.

The man gave both of the workers a nod and a grin. Immediately, your ears perked up at the rhythmic lilt of a Russian accent as the man introduced himself as Nikolai. He took your luggage from the workers and you, stacking it away into the underside compartment of the Beechcraft. You couldn’t help but notice how casually the man was dressed for a pilot. Clad in jeans, a plain T-shirt, a brown leather jacket and boots. Finger length raven hair was slicked back neatly, curling naturally at the bottom of his neck  and emphasized his widow’s peak. A Cuban gold link chain hung around his neck. Apprehension prickled down your spine, suddenly unsure. More so as the workers left you alone with your supposed pilot. You eyed the man as he stacked another one of your suitcases inside the belly of the aircraft. 

“So you’re a pilot… sir ?” You asked. Trying to sound polite, conversationalist even, only for the skepticism to peek through and waver your voice. But if your pilot was bothered by it, you couldn’t tell. He only gave you a warm smile.

“Call me Nik, please.” He said, stuffing your duffel bag away. “And yes. Your pilot to be exact.” 

 “Well… Nik . How long have you been a pilot for?” 

“Nearly two decades.” With your luggage and bags all put away safely, Nikolai shut the underside compartment closed with an audible click. “But don’t worry. You’re in good hands.” He patted the side of the plane. “Katyushka and I will get you there safely.” 

You blinked at him. “ Katyushka.. ?”

The edges of Nikolai’s lips twitched as his smile widened. Obviously finding your butchering of the Russian word funny.

“Yes.” He leaned against the Beechcraft. “Well, to me. But to strangers, it’s Ekaterina .” The drawl of his accent made it sound so sensuous that you couldn’t help but shift your weight on your heels. “Built her from the ground up years ago. She’ll take you where you need to go, no problem.” He affirmed that notion with a gentle patting on the metal body again.

“Ok.” You nodded, your concerns not diminished in the slightest.

“It’ll be smooth sailing, I promise.” Nik opened the passenger side door. Offering his hand out to you as you reluctantly stepped forward and into the aircraft. Then took his seat in the pilot seat afterwards. 

Curious, your eyes wandered around the flight deck. At the various knobs, levers, buttons, and dials. Blinking displays and flashing lights that grabbed your attention, wondering what they all were for. Nikolai grabbed the aviator headset from its perch, placing it on top of his head. Then looked towards you, gaze meeting your inquisitive one as he tapped against the earmuff. 

“Headset – put it on.”

You nodded, looking around near your seat aimlessly before a hand darted in your vision, grabbing the other headset next to the side of your seat. Though Nik’s smile remained, you grabbed them sheepishly. Putting them on then fastened your seatbelt. Nikolai flicked a few switches and pressed more buttons before the Beechcraft sounded to life. The engine revved as the propeller began to spin faster and faster. Until the twisted nose blade was but a blur. 

“She purrs like a dream.” The static voice of Nik surprised you as it hummed through the intercom. “Hope you’re not afraid of heights or get motion sick. Ran out of emesis bags months ago.”

You swallowed, putting on a neutral expression. “I’ll be fine. Already came this far, didn’t I?” 

You didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself but either way Nikolai moved the plane down an unoccupied part of the airstrip. Away from the other larger commercial planes, one of which you had arrived on. He stopped just at the end of the tarmac where it ended at the tree line. Slowly and steadily, the Beechcraft went along the airstrip before Nikolai increased the throttle, making the Beechcraft pick up more speed. Until the wheels hovered above and the aircraft soared. The worst part of the plane ride came and went. The Beechcraft cruised at a comfortable altitude. But your nails were dug into the leather of your seat still and you released the lungful of air you repressed. The Russian man found it amusing it seemed by the way his grin only widened. Which made you force yourself to ease your grip on the seat and relax. 

There was a silence between you both, more comfortable than awkward which you appreciated after such a long day of traveling. You settled back into your seat, arms across your chest as you leaned to your right. Stared out of your passenger window to the sight beyond. All you saw was a clear blue sky and the tufts of clouds floating on by, whipped around by wind. Before you knew it, you were starting to get drowsy. Your aviation headset blocked out the sound of the plane and the propeller, only emitting white noise from an open radio line. You decided to lay down your head for a while, letting your eyelids flutter close as you snuggled against the side of the plane’s interior and into the leather seat. But soon just resting your head turned into you dozing off the rest of the way there.

A sudden turbulence made you bolt you awake, panicked as your stomach dropped. Hands gripped around the armrests as the plane shook as it began to descend. Your wide eyes darted to your left, catching the Russian pilot’s apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” Nik said over the headset, “Didn’t mean to scare you awake.”

You were groggy, still rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. Not lucid enough to consciously hide the scowl on your face. You relaxed a little, arms across your chest as you peered through your window. You weren’t surrounded by an endless sky anymore, having decreased in altitude. Below you was the Alaskan frontier in all its glory — alpine mountains, wide lakes and winding rivers, overgrown grasslands, open fields and thick woodlands.

You couldn’t help but admire the beautiful view, disregarding all that second guessing that occupied your headspace since your first flight. For that moment, all worry and regret was gone, and you felt at peace. Enjoyed all the scenery for a while, but it wasn't long before you were near your destination. From above, the small town of Coalition was a strange sight in the surrounding frontier. A smidge of civilization in all that untamed and untapped Alaskan wilderness. 

"Hold on."

The fuzzy words of your pilot came through the aviation headset that you both wore. 

On cue, Nikolai eased the Beechcraft lower and the cabin of it shook as it began to descend downwards, making you clutch against the armrests. Your pilot aimed towards the landing strip on the outskirts of the town where its fetal airport, paling in comparison to a commercial terminal, settled in a manmade open field. When the plane's wheels safely kissed the ground, you let out a rush of air. Relaxing into your seat as Nikolai slowed the acceleration until the aircraft began to lose its speed and rolled off into a slow and easy cruise.

He drove it towards an overarching steel hangar, coming to a stop just at the threshold. When the engines were cut off, you were quick to pull your aviation headset off and hop out. Stretching away the ache in your limbs and breathing in deeply for once as crisp air filled your chest for once rather than city smog. You took in the sight of the trees in the distance. Already their canopies were just beginning to lose their green pigmentation, right on the cusp of turning into shimmering gold and auburn. 

Fall was imminent. Thereafter, winter. Ideally, the land you inherited would be sold before then with a bit of luck on your side. But for now, you would enjoy your time off in such beautiful surroundings. 

“See. Told you it would be smooth sailing.” Nik smiled with a lean against the right wing of the plane.

“What about when you scared me awake? What was smooth about that?” You asked.

But he only shrugged. “Can’t tame the wind.”

Nikolai began to pull your luggage out of the holding compartment – one by one. Quicker he was retrieving it out than he was when trying to stack them inside like Tetris pieces. When you grabbed all your luggage, you and Nik exchanged your farewells before sauntering off and tended to the plane. His ‘ Katyushka’ , whatever that meant. But it was only when you grabbed all your luggage, struggling to carry it all as you walked, when you realized how far the town was from the airstrip. And how you didn’t have a designated ride there. You stood there for a moment, contemplating on what to do next. With such a small town, you doubted there were any taxis or any sort of paid ride shares. It seemed your predicament wasn’t as internal as it seemed when Nikolai soon approached you, concern etched on his smiling face.

“Are you waiting for someone?” 

“Not really.” You said, trying to sound unbothered. “I was just going to walk.”

“All the way to town?!” Nikolai eyed all your bags. 

You couldn’t help but feel bashful, feeling a need to dissuade and not draw attention to yourself and your little predicament. “Yeah. I need to stretch my legs anyway after the back-to-back flights.”

“It’s a two mile walk into town.”

You nodded, nonchalant about it. But internally you were screaming. “That’s not too bad.”

By the look on his face he doubted your words. “Do you have anyone you can call to pick you up?”

“No.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Before saying, “Wait here.”

You watched as Nikolai jogged towards the hanger then went around the side of it. Less than a minute later, a loud engine roared to life. Revving in the distance before a vintage four door sedan appeared from behind the hangar. And around the landing strip, following a gravel road along the perimeter. The car stopped at a junction just off the runway, where the gravel merged into a dirt road and then stopped in front of you. Nikolai emerged from the driver’s side, trunk already popped open as he went for your bags.

“It’s ok, Nik, really. I don’t mind walking. It’s not that far.”

But he only shook his head at you. “It’s no problem to me.”

“But the road leads straight to the town, right? I think I can manage it fine.” 

“With all these bags? You won’t make it there by sunset.” Nik said right as he stuffed one of your duffle bags into his trunk. Ignoring your pointed stare. “Besides, we got some wolf sightings recently. Not good to let you wander about.” 

You widened your eyes at him. Your skin began to prickle. “Wolves? Aren’t they usually too scared to be so close to people?”

“Usually, yes. But this pack’s the bold type. They like to sometimes wander the outskirts of town, too close for people’s liking. But for the most part, they mainly stick to the forest.” Nik huffed as he picked up one of your heaviest suitcase. “Which is why I don’t want to let you walk all the way to town. If you get lost in the trees and end up as their dinner, I don’t want to have that on my conscience.”

You let out a sigh, an almost laugh that made you ease up. You watched him a moment before deciding to help Nikolai put away your luggage in his car. Despite his insistence for you to let him do it. 

“Is it a big pack?" You asked, putting your bag into his backseat. Mostly for conversation but also to feed your curiosity. 

Nikolai loaded the last suitcase and closed the trunk with a loud click. Then shook his head. “It's only a few of them.”

You hummed in interest. Went around the car and opened the passenger side door. You settled yourself in the leather seat, putting on your seatbelt before the car went driving down the road. A silence settled between you and Nikolai once more, much like the one during the flight here. You occupied yourself by leaning on the car door armrest, looking out the window to the surrounding trees. But as the road turned uneven and rough, the car rattled over holes and bumps. What was a nice cruise down turned to slow and steady driving as Nik carefully tried not to scratch the paint or get his car stuck or scraped. And the lowered suspension from the added weight of  all your luggage didn’t help the effort of getting over potholes and elevated ground. 

You sat back in your seat, arms across your chest. But nonetheless grateful for not walking, experiencing just how bad the desolate road had become. Soon Nikolai was on a paved road again, leading into civilization. The town of Coalition was about what you expected for a small, rural town in the middle of nowhere. Small facilities here and there, the necessities needed to sustain and maintain a population. You noted some of them as the car drove by: a small general store, a local grocery store, a doctor’s clinic, a post office, a community center and a gas station. And all in a centralized area. 

You guided Nikolai towards where the property was, having written the directions just in case. Nikolai knew the roads by heart and nodded along, already knowing where to go. The property was on the outskirts of the town, more situated within the forest. But it wasn’t uncommon, there were other properties that did the same. It was late afternoon, by the time the vintage sedan rolled up to the property, following an off road dirt roadway leading between a dense thicket. Soon you saw a cabin, unassuming in the shadow of the pines and evergreens and all by its lonesome in a clearing in the forest. It stood on a few acres of sundered land – your land – that endured against the fickleness of nature. Slowly and steadily, the forest encroached – brush, young tree saplings and briar that creeped into the clearing and towards the cabin. 

Nik stopped just short of the gravel driveway where a tree had fallen and blocked the path. Roots uprooted, sticking out of the end of the trunk. It was a young tree, properly too weak to hold its canopy during the winter. The hole where it grew from was already covered up. And the tree was already cut up and sectioned in logs by a chainsaw, its branches rotting in a heap thrown aside towards the forest. You wondered if your grandfather had done it. The thought sat like a stone in your mind, it made you recoil. Trying to imagine the grandparents you never met, never saw. But still gave you this property after their passing. One that you looked up at now with curiosity and… fear, comprehension? 

Too many questions, too many thoughts. You dismissed it all away.

You expected Nikolai to stop right then and there and park. But he only drove around the logs, crushing the vegetation underneath as he went. The sedan stopped in front of the cabin. He left the car on but in park as he hopped out, wasting no time in unloading all your luggage with your help despite his disapproving frown. It was easier taking it all out than it was loading it, and before you knew it all your luggage and bags were on the front porch. And with a wave and smile from Nikolai, and sincere gratitude from you, you watched as the sedan drove away until it disappeared between the trees. 

With a heavy sigh, you turned and faced the door to the cabin. The house key felt heavier in your pocket. Overcome with a sudden hesitation that prevented you from moving. As if you were a vampire needing permission to enter a home. You took a big step back, sitting on one of the wooden chairs out on the patio. Next to dead perennials and other potted plants grouped along the railing where you assumed the early morning sun concentrated. You took in the fresh air. The smell of the forest and soil that felt cleansing for your lungs, accustomed to the fumes of pollution. After a few minutes you stood back up. Facing the door once more, you placed your hands upon the wood. Feeling the cool, smooth surface. You grabbed the key, turning the lock and with a squeak, you opened the cabin door and went inside. 

You stared into darkness. Only a rectangular strip of light extended into the cabin from behind you. Enough for you to distinguish the shadowed shapes of furniture and decorations. Your footsteps echoed against the wood flooring, reverberating through the dark as you grabbled around for a light switch. 

“Let there be light.” You mumbled to yourself and flicked on a light switch. 

Immediately the house flooded with warm lighting. You walked further in, hit with the layered smell of dust and must. The cabin was a bit smaller than it looked from the outside. With a small yet open kitchen that led directly to a living room. A singular hall divided both, leading to the back of the cabin where a bedroom and bathroom were. You took a second to wander and take in the inside. It was what you expected a grandparents’ house to be like. Rustic and vintage. With old furnishings, knickknacks, and décor. 

Various art pieces, landscape paintings and nature photographs hung on the walls. 

A cross-stitch sampler of the wild Alaskan landscape full of grazing deer and songbirds in the treetops was next to the front door, right above a small table where a wilted plant sat. Plush couches overstuffed with not matching throw pillows huddled around a wood-stove in the living room. A large bookshelf stuffed full of old books and films lined along the wall, away from the wood-stove, and next to an antique grandfather clock. Ticking away, louder than your footsteps as you went to the window. Pulled the drapery and opened the window to air out the house and get rid of the stench. Dust motes danced in the sun streams, floating and falling slowly like fall leaves.

Everything felt lived-in and loved. How peculiar.

You made quick work in bringing in all your luggage and bags. Collapsing on one of the couches and into the pile of pillows, some tumbling onto the floor from your impact. But soon the smell of dust from the cushions invaded your nose and you quickly got up, making a mental note to deodorize the couches. You grabbed your suitcases and bags, taking them down the hall past the other bathroom and a closet to where the master bedroom was at its end.

The floor creaked as you stepped foot inside. Sunlight filtered through the drapery as you pulled it aside and right onto the handcrafted quilted duvet of a queen sized bed in the center. It was a decently sized room with a small connecting bathroom. Compared to the rest of the house, it was decorated minimally. With only a bed, an armoire, and a lamp. A small vanity desk near the window. Some novelties here and there. You lifted the window latch and opened the bedroom window to get rid of the stuffiness in the bedroom and continue to air out the house. You rummaged around the room, finding clean sheets, pillowcases and blankets in a plastic tub underneath the bedframe. 

They were still fresh and smelt of detergent, better than the duvet and pillowcases that have been sitting in a stuffy room for who knows how long. You quickly changed the bedsheets, pillowcases and duvets. Throwing the stripped contents aside on an end-of-the-bed bench to be cleaned later. You brought all your luggage inside, the entirety of it cluttered a majority of the space. Only giving you one way to get on and off the bed and a path to the bathroom. You cleaned up as much as you could, a shallow cleaning: sweeping and wiping away the gathering dust; taking up the rest of the late afternoon that turned into early evening.  

Now, the only thing left was something to eat. You walked into the kitchen, looking around. The fridge was filled with expired and molding food. And nothing appetizing. You looked into the pantry cabinet, seeing a lot of canned foods and sealed, labelled mason jars. One of the labels reading ‘chamomile’ caught your eye. You grabbed it, looking inside to see the dried flowers of chamomile. Deciding that tea and that bag of chips in your handbag from your flight to Alaska would be your dinner. You found an old kettle and searched through the kitchen cabinets stacked with mismatched dishes, old tea cups, novelty mugs, and glassware. You grabbed one of the mugs, noticing it was hand-painted with a howling wolf. After a few tries, you managed to light the propane stove, filled the kettle with water and began to boil it. You filled a tea ball you found in one of the drawers with the tea, letting it seep once the kettle whistled and you filled up your mug with boiling water. 

You enjoyed what you could of your…dinner. Deciding to peruse the bookshelf for something interesting to read as you began to settle. But soon, you felt your entire day weigh down on you; the entirety of your day filled with travel. You closed the living room window, noticing the waning gibbous moon between the sliver of clouds. You pulled the curtain closed and went to the bathroom for a much needed shower. When you finally collapsed onto the bed and sunk into the quilt, you tried to get some rest. Only to toss and turn for hours, not being able to get comfortable. Soon there came a recognizable sound. Between the doldrum came a cry, the howls of wolves in the distance. It was a night’s call, a symphony. Haunting, beautiful. You couldn’t help but tilt your head, trying to hear it better. Memorized by the harmony. 

You snuggled underneath the covers, listening to the howling until it lulled you to sleep.

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