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Phileas was woken up in the middle of the night by a cold, wet nose pressing against his cheek. He groaned and brought his hand up to shield his face, momentarily confused as he rolled over. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, hearing urgent whimpering and whining. Phileas rubbed his eyes and found himself face to face with a black wolf wearing a gold pendant necklace, staring at him with wide blue eyes. Phileas blinked again, this time in confusion.
“Lucian?” he asked.
The wolf whined and wagged his tail, pressing his nose into Phileas’s cheek again. The human smiled and scratched the wolf behind the ears, then at the scruff of his neck. Lucian leaned into the scratches and sat down, tail thumping against the bed. Phileas wasn’t sure what time it was, only that it was probably very late. He was also confused as to why Lucian was a wolf when he’d clearly been a man when they’d gone to bed.
“What’s going on, love?” Phileas asked. “Why are you a wolf?”
Lucian whined and lowered his head, tucking his tail close to his body and putting his ears back. Phileas had seen that look enough to know that it meant that Lucian was embarrassed by whatever had caused him to shift. Phileas ran his fingers through the wolf’s soft black fur and scratched at his ears again, coaxing Lucian to relax.
“It’s alright, love,” Phileas said softly. “I’m not mad at you.”
Lucian’s tail wagged slightly at that and he raised his head again, licking Phileas’s cheek. Phileas laughed and wiped his face, only for Lucian to lick him again. The human petted his wolf for a few minutes before he yawned.
“It’s late, Lucian,” he said. “Let’s go back to sleep, love. We can talk in the morning if you want, when you’re a man again.”
Lucian barked once in agreement. Phileas laid back down and Lucian stretched out next to him, nuzzling his chest. Phileas wrapped his arms around his lover’s furry form and buried his face in the thick fur at Lucian’s chest, breathing deeply as he closed his eyes. Lucian’s breathing helped lull him back to sleep, the warmth and feel of his fur softer than any blanket. The next morning, Phileas woke up alone, arms clinging to a pillow. He sat up and yawned, as Lucian entered the room with some tea, wearing a black dressing gown.
“Good morning, my love,” he said.
“Morning,” Phileas replied. “When did you get up?”
“Only an hour ago,” Lucian answered, “Did you sleep well? I’m sorry for waking you last night.”
“It’s alright,” Phileas said, accepting the tea.
He took a sip and eyed Lucian over the rim. Up close, his lover looked tired, his blue eyes underscored by dark shadows, more downtrodden and sad than usual. His long black hair was slightly tangled and where the sleeves of his dressing gown slipped down, there were bright red scratches on his arms and even on his neck. Phileas’s eyes widened and he set his cup down quickly.
“Lucian, what happened?” he asked, gently taking hold of Lucian’s arm and rolling his sleeve further down. “You’re bleeding.”
Lucian went rigid and his eyes flashed. He licked his lips and stared at the wall.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Sometimes when I sleep as I wolf, I scratch myself in my sleep sometimes.”
“Why were you a wolf last night?” Phileas asked.
Lucian shrugged and wouldn’t meet his lover’s eyes. Phileas could feel how tense his muscles were, the way Lucian was preparing to fight or run if he began to feel trapped. Phileas took his hand away and Lucian seemed to relax, letting out a tense breath. He rolled his sleeves back down and rubbed the scratches on his neck. In the morning light, the blueness of his eyes looked glassy. Phileas very gently took Lucian’s hand, entwining their fingers.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” Lucian answered. He wouldn’t meet Phileas’s gaze. “I know.”
Over the next few weeks, Phileas noticed some concerning changes in Lucian. Every couple of nights, he would wake Phileas in his wolf form, seemingly upset or restless. He would only settle once Phileas soothed him with pets and scratches, but curled up or stretched out as close to Phileas as possible, like he couldn’t bear being separate from him. In the mornings after those nights, Phileas usually woke up alone until Lucian came back to the room with tea and breakfast, looking more and more exhausted.
Phileas was concerned that maybe Lucian was slowly falling ill, but he wasn’t sure how possible that was. Lucian had explained to him that lycans healed much faster from wounds and other injuries, and rarely got ill unless they were exposed to silver or were bitten or infected by a vampire. Phileas became convinced that whatever was wrong with his lover, it was only happening late at night. He was determined to find out what it was, since Lucian didn’t seem to want to talk about it himself, deflecting whenever Phileas asked him.
That night, when they both went to bed, Phileas rolled over onto his side and let Lucian hold him from behind, but didn’t fall asleep. He kept his breathing even though, acting like he was, determined to see what nocturnal occurrences were keeping his lover awake. Phileas heard it when Lucian fell asleep, his breathing gentle and rhythmic. Phileas stayed still as a statue, waiting for something, anything to happen.
The night went on and Phileas found himself fighting sleep, his eyes heavy and leaden. He shook himself each time he nearly drifted off, straining his ears for a change in Lucian’s sleep. Then it happened. At first Lucian just released his embrace and rolled over onto his other side, his breathing getting ragged and labored. He was panting and he moved around on the bed, the blankets and sheets tangling around his arms and legs as he raised them, as if he were trying to ward off an attack.
“Please, no,” Lucian said, his breaths coming out quick and panicked. “Stop, leave me alone, please. No, no.”
Phileas sat up and rolled over quickly. Lucian’s face gleamed with sweat in the light of the full moon shining through the curtains, his hands clenching at the sheets as he tossed his head side to side of the pillow. His bare chest rose and fell rapidly as he breathed. Even though he was asleep, his handsome face was taut with pure fear. His legs kicked the blanket off, as though he were running.
“No, leave him alone,” Lucian gasped. “Please, don’t hurt him. Take me, please.”
“Lucian?” Phileas asked softly. “Lucian, wake up.”
He reached out and touched his lover’s arm lightly, but Lucian jumped as though he’d been stuck with a fireplace poker. His breathing was getting worse; he sounded like a drowning man struggling for air. Phileas shook his shoulder, now growing scared himself. Lucian yelled out and in an instant, he shifted into a wolf and continued to fight off the attackers in his mind, claws raking at his own skin. He rolled off the bed and that was when he finally woke up, whimpering with fear.
“Lucian?” Phileas looked over the edge of the bed and a pair of terrified blue eyes stared back at him from the floor.
“It’s alright, love,” Phileas said, keeping his voice low, moving slowly closer to the wolf. “You were just having a nightmare.”
He held his hand out but Lucian flinched and shrunk away from it, whining. Phileas froze and moved back a little to give his lover space. Lucian eyed him with wary caution and carefully approached him, sniffing. Phileas held his hand out again and Lucian sniffed it, then licked it, letting out a soft bark and tilting his head.
“It’s me, darling,” Phileas said quietly. “It’s Phileas.”
Lucian sniffed him again and jumped back up onto the bed again, burrowing into Phileas’s lap with a series of whines and whimpers, his furry form trembling. Phileas felt his heart crumple at the sight and he wrapped both arms around his lover’s furry form, stroking and petting his fur, whispering softly to him.
“Shh, darling, shh, everything’s alright,” Phileas murmured. “I’m here, I’ve got you, everything’s going to be alright. You’re safe with me, love.”
After about an hour, Lucian calmed down and stopped trembling. He pressed his nose into Phileas’s neck and licked his cheek, then nuzzled against him. Phileas scratched at his ears and stroked his muzzle, kissing his nose. His brown eyes met Lucian’s blue ones as he petted the wolf’s head.
“Can you change back?” Phileas asked.
Lucian closed his eyes and breathed deeply, wiggling slightly, and in a flash, Phileas had a lapful of his naked lover. Lucian’s eyes were red and wet with lingering tears, cheeks stained with tear tracks. Phileas cupped his face and wiped them away. Lucian grasped his wrists, bringing their foreheads together.
“Is this what’s been happening to you?” Phileas asked. “Why you’ve been a wolf in the middle of the night? And why you haven’t been sleeping?”
“Yes,” Lucian answered, his voice a whisper. “I’m sorry, my love. I should’ve warned you about my nightmares. I know how disruptive they are.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Phileas said, kissing his lover’s forehead. “How long have these been going on?”
“Almost my whole life,” Lucian admitted. “Some nights all I see is Sonja’s death, over and over. Other nights I’m being chased by the Hunters or being lashed at Viktor’s castle.” He sniffled and his eyes flashed with tears. “But lately, they’ve been about losing you, or you getting hurt because of me.”
The pure anguish in his voice and the pain in his eyes was like a bullet to Phileas’s heart. He gathered Lucian tighter in his arms and stroked his hair. Lucian clung to him, crying into his neck. Phileas kissed his lover’s temple and rubbed his back gently, carding fingers through Lucian’s hair.
“It’s alright, darling, I’m here,” Phileas murmured gently. “You’re not going to lose me, I promise.”
After another few minutes, Lucian pulled back slightly, wiping at his eyes. He glanced at the window, where the full moon hung large and bright in the sky. Phileas followed his gaze.
“The full moon makes it worse,” Lucian explained. “Every lycan is affected differently by it. Some lose control and go on mindless rampages, while others just feel the need to hunt. Sometimes that happens to me, but mostly, it just makes my nightmares more vivid.”
“I’m so sorry, Lucian,” Phileas said. “I had no idea you’d been suffering like this.” He frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Lucian’s cheeks flushed and he lowered his eyes. “I suppose I didn’t want to appear weak in front of you. I usually have better control over them, but the moon makes it harder to focus my dreams and usually makes me shift in my sleep.” He swallowed. “Sometimes I find it easier to sleep as a wolf after that. They usually stop once I wake up.” He met Phileas’s eyes again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell, my love. I didn’t want you to worry.”
Phileas smiled fondly and kissed Lucian gently on the lips, stroking his beard, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.
“I love you, Lucian,” Phileas said. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. You don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.” He kissed the lycan’s cheek. “Next time this happens, wake me. You don’t need to be alone like that.”
“But you need sleep,” Lucian mildly protested.
“So do you,” Phileas countered. “We’ll stay up until you feel ready to try and go back to sleep.” He took Lucian’s right hand in his and kissed his knuckles. “I’m here for you, darling.”
Lucian smiled for the first time and looked more like himself than he had in weeks. He yawned and the shadows under his eyes seemed to grow darker. Phileas stroked his cheek.
“Let’s get you some rest,” he said. “You can shift back if you need to.”
“I think I’ll be fine like this,” Lucian replied.
Phileas grinned and they laid back down again. Phileas pulled the thick blanket over them and Lucan wrapped his muscular arms around his human, pulling him closer to his broad chest. Phileas snuggled deeper into his lover’s warmth and closed his eyes. Lucian kissed his human’s hair and breathed in his comforting scent, the perfect balm that soothed him into a more peaceful slumber for the rest of that night and many nights afterward.