Chapter Text
THE STRENGTH OF THE WOLF: STAR-CROSSED
PART ONE: KISS ME SLOWLY (Parachute)
I’m not sure where this is gonna go,
but in this moment all I know
is the skyline through the window,
the moon above you, and the streets below.
Hold my breath as you’re moving in,
taste your lips, and feel your skin.
When the time comes, baby, don’t run.
Just kiss me slowly.
It was just a dance, an innocent little dance, Hannah told herself as she dragged Zach onto the dancefloor. And dancing involves touching, she reasoned as her fingers caught in his belt loops, as he took her offered hand and spun her in time with the beat, as their faces came close enough to...
“What?” she shouted.
Zach started to repeat himself, but smiled instead and shook his head. They both knew there was no way she’d be able to hear him over the music. He pulled her off the dancefloor by the hand he still hadn’t let go of and back towards the quieter corner where they’d been sitting before.
He still had to lean close to make himself heard, though, which Hannah was completely okay with.
“I said, I’m having fun.”
Hannah laughed. “Then why did you stop?”
Zach’s blush was obvious even in the dim lighting of the club. He muttered something that she didn’t catch, which made Hannah lean in closer, until they were almost as close as they’d been while dancing, but she still couldn’t hear him.
Hannah made an annoyed sound. The club was too loud. There were too many people. All she wanted to do was get to know this gorgeous, clever boy (who talked far too much about dandelions) better.
“Come on!” she shouted, gesturing towards the patio. There would be loads of smokers out there, but at least it would be quieter.
The moment Hannah stepped out through the door, she sighed with relief. She hadn’t realised how hot it had been in the club until the chilly air hit her bare arms, causing instant gooseflesh. There weren’t even that many people on the patio, she was pleased to see. That meant fresh air and privacy.
She turned and leaned back against the low barrier, smiling at Zach a few steps behind her. “There, that’s better,” she was able to say at a normal speaking level. “Now, what were you saying?”
“That I’m having a good time?” Zach said awkwardly.
A person should not be allowed to be so adorable and sexy all at once.
“I’m glad,” Hannah said lamely. “I’d feel awful for dragging you out if you weren’t. I’m trying to make up for how Tobias behaved, after all.”
“It’s all right,” Zach insisted. “Really, it is. No point souring the evening by dwelling on it, right?”
“I suppose so,” said Hannah.
“Besides,” said Zach, “if that hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be here right now, would we?”
The shy smile he gave her when he said it practically gave Hannah stomach butterflies. It was a horrible cliché, but she had never felt this way about anyone before, especially so quickly. She was feeling all of those sensations from romantic films and pop songs--that nervous energy, the inexplicable magnetic spark--and she didn’t care that it was juvenile or sappy; she just wanted more of it. She wanted more of Zach.
“No, I s’pose we wouldn’t,” said Hannah, returning his smile. Boldly, she moved a step closer to him. The magnetic spark grew stronger. And there was nothing in the world Hannah wanted to do so much as kiss Zach in that moment, and she had the feeling that he might let her, that he might want her to do it--
But then Zach’s eyes flitted up over Hannah’s shoulder, and what he saw made him take a step back from her. Hannah glanced around just in time to see Jackson fleeing back into the club as if he’d just seen something disturbing. Hannah wondered how long he’d been standing there.
“Sorry,” Zach muttered. “Jack’s got an extremely annoying habit of trying to protect me. “
“I’ve gathered as much,” said Hannah. “I assume he’s worried his big brother will fall prey to the devious hunter girl?”
There was no point denying it, after all. Hannah would have to come clean sooner or later, and now was as good a time as any. If Zach somehow hadn’t worked it out for himself yet, he’d only be angrier with her later if she put off telling him.
“To say the least,” said Zach. The fact that he was unfazed made it clear that he had, in fact, put the pieces together. Really, what other humans besides hunters would know about werewolves (or be that prejudiced against them, in Toby’s case)? “He also failed to mention that bit of information.”
“Well, now you know about me,” said Hannah, “and you’re still here.”
“Well, I suspect you might know something about me,” Zach countered, “and you’re still here.”
Hannah smiled at him, but before she could respond, he rushed on: “Those things I said before…”
“About you not being human or a werewolf?” Hannah guessed when Zach didn’t continue, keeping her voice down, though there was little chance of someone nearby hearing her say the ‘W’-word.
Zach bit his lower lip self-consciously (which was somewhat distracting; he had a very nice mouth). “What your cousin said. He was right. Rude, but right.”
“So you’re half and half.” Hannah shrugged, not quite understanding what the big deal was. Toby had made it sound like something horrible, but Hannah couldn’t see any reason to be bothered by it. It had been fairly clear as soon as she had met Zach that there was something wolfish about him: the very fact that he was with Isaac and Jackson, of course, but also his mannerisms, and the fact that Jackson referred to him as his ‘brother.’ But she hadn’t been completely certain as to whether he was himself a werewolf. Once she had noticed his piercings, she had ruled that out.
“My mum’s human,” Zach confirmed. “Most of the pack don’t treat me much differently to the proper wolves, but Jack’s… Well, you’ve met him.”
“I have,” Hannah said, with a laugh in her voice.
“On the positive side,” said Zach, “Meant I could get these.” He gestured vaguely to his facial and ear piercings, even sticking out his tongue a bit to show off a stud there. (As if he weren’t sexy enough already.)
His fringe fell in his eyes as he did so, and Hannah couldn’t help herself. She reached up and brushed it out of the way. It was soft and fine, and the dyed bright red was subdued by the soft glow of the lights on the patio. Hannah wanted to run her fingers through it, but she was leery of overstepping her bounds. She really hadn’t known Zach that long, and she knew that she could come on a little strong.
Zach looked momentarily startled, but then gave her another shy smile. Emboldened by the encouragement, she let her finger trace down the shell of Zach’s ear, careful of his piercings, before drawing her hand back.
“I s’pose we ought to go find the puppies,” she said reluctantly. Zach looked like he was going to say something, but instead, just nodded in agreement.
Hannah wasn’t sure which one of them initiated it, or even how it had happened exactly, but somehow, as they headed back into the noise and chaos of the club, their fingers became intertwined.
Grounded. For the first time in her life, Hannah was grounded. She hadn’t even known that was actually a thing that happened outside of TV. Grounded.
She sat in her desk chair, legs tucked up, slowly spinning. Maybe if she did it long enough, she could make herself believe the queasy feeling in her stomach was on account of the motion sickness.
What bothered her the most was the smug look on Tobias’s swollen face when her dad had made his decree. Cheeky bastard. This was entirely Toby’s fault! He had blown everything way out of proportion, and now she was grounded. She really should’ve hit him harder. If she’d known he’d do this, she would have done.
So she’d been flirting with a werewolf. Not even technically a werewolf, she reminded herself yet again, not that it seemed to matter to the rest of her family (who, admittedly, hunted werewolves for a living). So did Hannah, or, she would, anyway, when her gran announced her fit to be considered a full hunter in her own right. After tonight, Hannah wasn’t sure that would ever happen. She also wasn’t sure how she even felt about that.
The wolf boys had all been terribly sweet and understanding about the whole mess, but it didn’t make it any less awkward. As well-meaning as Isaac had been, walking her back last night (so late it had really been this morning) hadn’t helped the situation at home, either. So now Hannah was caught in a vortex of awkwardness. Fighting an awkward war being awkwardly assaulted on two awkward fronts.
Hannah loathed awkwardness.
She liked things to be easy and straightforward and non-judgmental. Was that so much to ask?
At least Zach hadn’t seemed upset when she’d told him she was a hunter. He had already figured it out, but it still had to have been a bit of a shock that his friends--who were also werewolves--were spending time with a hunter. Surely Zach would have questions about that.
Hannah stopped spinning in the chair and threw herself onto her bed dramatically, eyes closed and stomach tumbling. She hadn’t thought about it at the time, but was there a possibility that she had just been flirting with Zach because he was part werewolf? Hannah wasn’t in the habit of lying to herself, and she’d always had a bit of an attraction to playing with fire and other dangerous things. (Not that she had acted on it enough to get herself in trouble before.) Was Zach just another dangerous thing? Did that explain the attraction?
At first, Hannah hadn’t been able to get much information out of Isaac about Jackson’s gorgeous, red-haired “brother” (which she had been pretty sure meant pack) after meeting him in the coffee shop. She had texted Isaac that evening, only vaguely trying to be casual in her interest, and they had gleefully enthused about his beauty together. But looks were only skin deep, as Hannah well knew. She wanted to know the real stuff, and for that, she would have to talk to him again.
That had been one week ago. One week plus a day; a day of incredible, amazing, awkward things. If it hadn’t been for an overly casual, completely manipulative comment from Aunt Wendy forcing her to invite Tobias along, it wouldn’t have even been awkward. But that was Wendy’sway of keeping an eye on Hannah who, according to Wendy was “already much too sympathetic to the animals we (hunters) ought to be putting down.” Looking back on it, the evening had gone almost exactly as Hannah should have expected it to. Maybe slightly better, simply because there hadn’t been any casualties, and there really, really could have been.
At least clouting Tobias hadn’t signaled the end of the evening. Going to the club had been fun, dancing with Zach had been brilliant, but just getting to talk to him, to be close to him, had been the best part of the evening by far.
Hannah had never considered herself a romantic. Sure, she’d had her share of relationships by teenager standards, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling so connected to someone before; someone she could never imagine herself spending too much time with or getting bored with or tired of. But Zach was funny, and something about the shy way he looked at her made the butterflies in her stomach pick up jackhammers. Even the memory of it now made them flutter a bit.
She wanted to brush the whole thing off. The last thing she needed right now was to be interested in anyone, let alone a werewolf (not technically, but close enough in her family’s eyes), but she knew that wasn’t how these things worked. Crushes didn’t just go away just because you asked them to nicely, and they had a nasty habit of cropping up when it was most inconvenient.
Whatever it was that was happening between her and Zach, it was something. She just didn’t know what exactly that was yet, or what she wanted it to become. And now she was grounded, left to stew and obsess over it.
God, was she bored. Being grounded was awful. No phone, no computer, no telly, not even any training. Not that the phone was any great loss; she hadn’t gotten his number anyway, and he was the only person Hannah wanted to talk to right now.
...So why shouldn’t she? If her dad was already cross with her, there probably wasn’t too much more she could do to make it worse, she considered as she gazed at her bedroom window thoughtfully.
Zach’s senses might not have been quite as finely tuned as the members of his pack who were of the more wolfy persuasion, but the minute he opened the door to his room, he could tell someone had been inside.
Correction, someone was inside.
And she was looking at a picture. Not just any picture; that picture. The one from the home-produced theatrical version of Little Red Riding Hood that Sarah had written, directed, and starred in when they were children, conning half the pack into helping her build a set in the sitting room (so no one had been able to actually use the room for a week), and the other half into acting in the play. The photograph was of Sarah (Little Red herself), Rodger (the Big Bad Wolf, of course), and Zach, who had a dark beard drawn on his cherubic face with make-up and was holding an axe made from a kitchen roll. Zach simultaneously adored and loathed that picture. It was not one he would have chosen to show a girl who he desperately wanted to think he was at least a little bit cool.
Zach wasn’t sure what he was more embarrassed about: that Hannah was looking at that picture or that he had a pile of laundry on the floor that still needed to be folded.
The fact that he ought to be confused about why she was in his room at all didn’t actually occur to him until a few moments after that. Then it was instantly forgotten again when Hannah glanced up and smiled at him mischievously.
“Hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I let myself in.”
“You climbed in through my window?” said Zach, shutting the door behind him. “That’s a little Shakespearean, don’t you think?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Hannah, setting down the picture exactly back where it had been. “I picked your lock.”
“I feel as though I ought to find that creepy...”
“I was aiming for charmingly assertive,” said Hannah, and her mischievous smile became mysterious. “I like to take initiative.”
“Well, I’ve never been happier to be burgled,” said Zach. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“‘Nice,’ he says.” Hannah giggled. “I’m flattered.”
Zach felt his ears starting to get warm, but he tried to ignore it and press on. After all, it wasn’t every day an opportunity like this literally broke into your room and figuratively fell into your lap.
“Not to make it sound like you’re not welcome here, because you’re very welcome here, but… To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?”
“I wanted to see you again.” Hannah shrugged. “I like you. I think you like me. So I decided I’d pop ‘round to see if I’m right. Am I?”
“Eh?” Zach said eloquently, having become somewhat distracted by the words ‘I like you’ and missing the rest.
“Do you like me?” she reiterated. If she was nervous at all, she hid it well.
Zach gave her a cautious smile as he nodded.
“Good,” said Hannah, returning his smile. “I like being right.”
Zach’s stomach felt like it had just joined the circus from all the flipping it was doing. He didn’t know if he was supposed to be frightened or excited or relieved or some other entirely new emotion that would have to be invented specifically for this moment in time because there was nothing in his life that could have prepared Zach for this moment.
So to put off thinking about it, Zach busied himself making excuses for the state of his room and gathering up all the laundry and hiding it in his closet (like that was actually any better; now she was going to think he was a slob and an idiot). Hannah sat in Zach’s desk chair to stay out of his way while he flitted about the room like the idiot she must now think he was. He was just about to offer her a drink--which was incredibly silly considering he didn’t have any cups besides the one he kept water in, or anything to drink (besides water) for that matter--when she spoke up again.
“Is there a reason you’re all the way over there?” Hannah cocked her head to the side. Zach didn’t realise until then that he was hovering near his closet. “It’s just that this is your room, and I feel awkward with you standing over there and me sitting in your chair.”
Zach laughed nervously and took a few steps closer to Hannah. “Sorry. You’re a bit... intimidating.”
“Intimidating?” She looked puzzled. “Why, because I’m a hunter?”
“That, too,” said Zach. The next words came out almost without conscious thought: “But mostly because you’re beautiful. Stunningly.”
Hannah turned her head slightly and arched an eyebrow as if to ask, ‘Is that all?’
“I expect you get called beautiful all the time, though,” said Zach, backtracking. This was a disaster. Zach had no business trying to be suave. It was all going to backfire on him horribly.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean that I don’t like hearing it,” said Hannah with a slow smile. “Depending on who’s saying it. But I expect you’re complimented on your looks quite often, yourself.”
“Now and then,” said Zach, stifling a smile.
He remembered Isaac openly staring at him when they’d first met and going on about his appearance. That wasn’t an uncommon reaction. Unfortunately, people thinking he was aesthetically pleasing to look at hadn’t translated into meaningful relationships very often. It was flattering that people liked the way he looked, but actions spoke louder than words.
“Oh, shut it,” Hannah teased. “You are well aware of how gorgeous you are.”
Zach laughed, which made Hannah laugh in turn. Her laugh was almost as beautiful as the rest of her. It put Zach at ease, and he moved to sit at the edge of his bed, facing Hannah, who pivoted in the desk chair to face Zach. They were roughly at eye level now, knees inches apart, but though Zach was heart-in-his-throat nervous, he was still (mostly) comfortable with her.
“So you like me,” said Hannah, as if the last minute or so of their conversation had been a tangent and she wanted to get back on track. “Why do you like me? Besides the fact that I’m ‘stunningly beautiful,’ obviously.”
“Well, to start, no one’s ever punched anyone for me before,” Zach said with a smile.
“I didn’t do it for you,” said Hannah. “Tobias was being rude and overprotective. I don’t need anyone protecting me.”
“Yeah, I get that general sense from you,” said Zach. “Still, it probably kept Jack from attacking a human in public. So, thanks.”
“You looked quite fierce yourself, Mowgli,” said Hannah. “Not that I blame you. What he said about your mother was horrible.”
Mowgli. A boy raised by wolves. The pet name likely would’ve been annoying coming from anyone else, but from Hannah it was somehow endearing. Zach liked that she had thought about him enough to give him a pet name (and it was nicer than ‘Puss,’ in any case).
Zach shrugged. “I’ve heard much worse. But I don’t like people touching me when I don’t want them to. Particularly men, and particularly when they’re trying to hurt me.”
“I think that sounds perfectly reasonable,” Hannah assured him. She cocked her head to the side and regarded Zach thoughtfully for a moment.
The intensity of her gaze made Zach look down self-consciously. So she knew, then. Maybe Isaac or Jack had told her, but most likely she’d figured it out on her own. She was perceptive, and it wasn’t as if Zach looked or sounded particularly masculine, after all. Usually he managed to look like a boy about five years younger than his actual age.
“Just… don’t feel sorry for me or anything, right? I hate it from anyone, but I’m not sure I could bear it from you.”
Hannah ducked her head to try to get Zach to look at her.
“With those eyes?” She made a mock scoffing sound. “You’ll get no sympathy from me. How can they be blue and yellow at the same time?”
Zach laughed. “You might not want to ask a Biology student about that. I’ve taken several modules on Genetics, and I expect you’ll want to sleep at some point before dawn.”
“That would depend on what I was staying awake for,” said Hannah, her expression suggestive. “If I had a professor with a mouth like yours, I might pay more attention in classes.”
Completely shameless, this girl! Zach slowly raised his head and met Hannah’s dark eyes. “Just so you know… As you’re not a man and you’re not looking to injure me--at least, I don’t think you are--it’s all right for you to touch me.”
When Hannah arched an elegant eyebrow at him, Zach blushed furiously. “Shit, could I be worse at this?”
“Yes,” said Hannah. She smiled and tousled Zach’s hair, which caused him to lean into her hand like a dog being petted before he realised what he was doing. As soon as he did, he pulled back abruptly.
“Oh, God. Can we forget I just did that?” said Zach, mortified. “It’s just that I grew up with werewolves, and--”
“Not a chance,” said Hannah, giving him a scratch behind the ear for good measure--which actually did feel unbelievably good--before pulling her hand away. “That is too adorable. I’ll remember it for as long as I possibly can.”
“Adorable,” repeated Zach. “Not the adjective I’d choose for myself.”
“How would you prefer to be described?” said Hannah, eyes dancing. “Sexy? Because you definitely are that.”
She reached for the zip of the hoodie Zach was wearing, and Zach flinched away from her hand reflexively, pulse spiking from nerves. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to touch him (in fact, the idea was very appealing); he just hadn’t expected her to do that and wasn’t sure what she wanted.
“Sorry!” said Hannah, quickly pulling her hand back, dismayed. “I wasn’t thinking. I only wanted to see your tattoo.”
Zach glanced down at himself and realised that his hoodie was unzipped enough that the top of his wolf pawprint was visible. It occurred to him then that every other time he’d seen Hannah, he’d been wearing a shirt or jacket with long sleeves that was buttoned up enough to cover all of his tattoos.
“No, I’m sorry,” said Zach. “Just skittish. It’s okay.”
When Hannah didn’t go for the zip again, Zach rolled his eyes and took her hand, moving it there. “It really is okay.”
Hannah watched Zach’s eyes as she unzipped his hoodie and helped him take it off. As soon as it was off, though, her gaze dropped to his body. He was wearing a tank with a relatively low neckline, so most of his tattoos were visible. She looked stunned by the sheer number of them at first (a common reaction), but then she smiled at the part of the pawprint that was visible--a couple of paw pads and claws--near his collarbone, and then cautiously (presumably in case he didn’t want her to) traced some of the little images in his right upper-arm sleeve. Her fingernails tickled, but Zach managed to keep from laughing by watching her expression of awed fascination.
“Yeah,” said Hannah, biting her lower lip as she examined the symbols inked in black. “Really bloody sexy.”
Though there was quite a bit more ink on his right arm, the four words on the inside of his left forearm caught Hannah’s eye, saving Zach from having to find an appropriate response.
“‘Mind, heart, self, soul’?” she read aloud, making it a question.
“It’s…” Zach struggled to find an explanation. “I don’t know how much you know about werewolf mantras. They help werewolves focus when they feel like they’re going to shift, especially on the full moon. Our pack use an old one. That’s a reference to it.”
“Can I hear the whole thing, or is it a secret?”
Zach smiled. “I don’t know if it’s a secret, but I suppose that, as you’re a hunter, I ought to make you promise not to repeat it.”
“I promise,” Hannah said earnestly.
“All right.” Zach cleared his throat so he could recite it properly. “‘Nor moon, nor men, nor stars control my mind, my heart, my self, my soul.’” He said it with reverence. Those fifteen words had gotten his packmates and generations of other werewolves through the most difficult parts of their lives. They deserved respect.
Hannah paused before speaking. “That’s beautiful.”
Zach fidgeted, growing self-conscious again. He didn’t know what to say to that, and Hannah wasn’t saying anything, either. She was regarding him with an unreadable expression.
“What’s that look for?” said Zach, hoping to keep the silence from growing awkward.
“I was just thinking that I’d like to kiss you,” said Hannah, matter-of-factly, “and wondering if I should ask your permission first.”
Zach’s pulse skipped at her words, but he managed to stay relatively collected (or, at least, he hoped so). “Yeah? Have you decided?”
“I’m not sure,” said Hannah. Her voice had the kind of tone you’d use when choosing between two breakfast options. Zach would’ve smiled if he hadn’t been so nervous. “On the one hand, asking doesn’t sound particularly sexy or romantic. People don’t usually ask, do they?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Zach shook his head anyway.
“On the other hand…” Hannah tapped her finger against her own lips, examining Zach like he was a particularly complicated maths problem she was just on the verge of solving.
Zach hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath until she spoke:
“May I kiss you, Zach?”
He nodded dumbly, having to take a deep breath and clear his throat twice before he could force the word “Yes” out of his mouth.
As soon as he’d said it, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. They were full and warm and tasted of some kind of vanilla balm. She needed to brace her hands on his legs so she wouldn’t fall out of the chair, and Zach put one of his hands on her hip to help steady her, the other one moving to hold the back of her neck. He nearly groaned when she opened her mouth for his tongue, and he took full advantage of the invitation.
It was a top-notch first kiss with someone new, and one of the best kisses Zach had ever had, no exaggeration necessary. Hannah’s mouth was made for kissing. She also seemed to like his tongue stud and the labret stud below his bottom lip, which boded well. (He tried his best not to hit the metal against her teeth.) Zach immediately developed a new life goal: Kiss Hannah at every opportunity (or at least when he could pluck up the courage).
When the chair situation became too awkward, Zach got his arms around Hannah’s waist and tugged her onto the single bed with him (even though it caused a twinge in the shoulder that Hannah’s cousin had shoved). She kicked off her shoes--Zach followed suit--and settled in like she belonged there, and pulled Zach close to her, letting him kiss her and responding enthusiastically. She encouraged him without pushing, mindful of any boundaries she might be crossing, but at the same time it didn’t make Zach feel delicate. It was certainly the most considerate anyone had been when snogging the breath out of Zach.
Still, after a few minutes, it became a bit overwhelming. Zach was grateful that Hannah didn’t seem affronted when he stopped kissing her, and he settled in on his side, facing her. She smiled a heartbreakingly beautiful smile at him, lips kiss-flushed, and brushed his fringe out of his eyes. They were both breathing hard, sharing the same air.
“You’re fun to kiss,” she said, in the hushed tone people automatically adopt when they’re lying in a bed in a dimly-lit room. It made Zach think about the other things people do when they’re lying in a bed in a dimly-lit room.
“So’re you,” said Zach, matching her tone. ‘Fun’ didn’t even come close to describing kissing Hannah, but it was a start.
“So much fun, in fact,” she continued, “that I practically forgot to breathe. Thanks for letting me come up for air.”
Zach knew what she was doing. But somehow, he didn’t mind. Maybe it was the fact that she was so genuine about it, that she wasn’t being sarcastic or snide, and really seemed to understand, but he was grateful for it, even if he didn’t really know how to respond to it.
Luckily, once again, she didn’t make him.
“Of course, if I get overwhelmed by how sexy you are and ever do forget to breathe, you’ll remind me, yeah?”
“Definitely,” said Zach, kissing her again briefly to show that, despite being skittish, he was still very interested. Hannah seemed to appreciate that.
They settled into the bed, facing each other. Hannah asked Zach questions about himself to keep him talking so he wouldn’t get overly nervous. She seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. Her focus on him was undivided, to the point where sometimes he had to look away while he was talking. If it bothered her, she didn’t say.
“What was it like, growing up human in a werewolf pack?” asked Hannah after Zach told a funny story about how Rodger used to lurk in his bedroom closet when he was little and scare the living daylights out of him by making his eyes glow when Zach opened it.
“Well, I’m not human,” said Zach, idly twining his fingers with Hannah’s. She’d taken his hand in hers a few minutes ago. “I mean, not fully.”
“How’s that?” asked Hannah, puzzled.
“My mother’s human. My father’s a wolf. Rodger’s dad is Welsh and his mum is from Pakistan. Rodge mostly looks Pakistani. But half his blood’s still Welsh, right?”
Hannah considered this for a moment. “I suppose. But is it the same? You can’t transform, can you?”
Zach shrugged. “No, but I don’t mind. It makes full moons easier. When I was young, my mum and I used to stay at a posh hotel together sometimes. A mini-break to get us out of the flat so the others wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally hurting us. When I got older I could stay and help Sarah--my biological sister. She’s got wolf abilities.” Zach had some vague recollection that maybe he had mentioned Sarah when he’d been drunk, but he wasn’t entirely sure. “Then I moved here when I started university, so this is where I usually stay on full moons. Close enough to the den if they need me.”
Hannah smiled when Zach used the word ‘den,’ but she didn’t comment on it.
“So the full moon doesn’t affect you?”
“I get a bit… giddy,” said Zach. “Restless. But it might just be because of my pack. Their emotions can be sort of infectious.”
“What happens if a half-werewolf who’s born without the ability to transform gets bitten by an alpha?”
“No one in our pack knows, actually,” said Zach. “Hell, hunters may know more about it than we do. You could ask your dad, maybe.”
“Yes, that would go over well,” Hannah drawled. She lifted their entwined hands and kissed the back of Zach’s. Like she wanted contact with him but was trying to rein herself in.
“Would you ever consider taking the Bite?” she asked, like the Bite was something strange and dangerous to her. Zach supposed that to a hunter, especially a young one, it would be.
“No,” said Zach, with certainty. “Our pack think--and I agree--that with half-wolves, whichever side wins out in the womb is what you’re meant to be. My dad was our pack’s alpha when I was conceived, so I’ve already been exposed to whatever it is in an alpha’s bite that turns people. If another alpha bit me, I’d probably either be immune, or my body would reject the Bite and I’d die.”
Hannah looked fascinated. “And you’re a scientist. This must drive you mad!”
“Yes,” Zach said emphatically. “I keep wondering if the Bite is like a virus, and if it is, why some people survive it and some don’t. And how the transformation works on a biological level. I think that’s part of why I started studying it in the first place.”
“Nerd,” Hannah teased. She traced the tattoo on Zach’s upper left arm to emphasize her point: it was a band made of a DNA strand.
“What gave me away?” he said, and kissed her when she smiled.
They fell into kissing again for what seemed like a long while--Zach had to grab a glass of water from his bedside table for them somewhere in the middle--until Zach got overwhelmed again. He wanted Hannah. He wanted her badly. But it had been a while since he’d done this, and last time it hadn’t ended particularly well, and objectively he didn’t really know Hannah--
He sat up suddenly, hugging one knee to his chest, turning away from Hannah. Why did this have to be so complicated?
Zach felt Hannah slowly sitting up behind him. A moment later, her hand tentatively settled on his shoulder, just a reminder of her presence, nothing insistent. This was good; this he could handle. The touch became a pressureless rub, back and forth across his shoulders, then a gentle scratch up his neck and into his hair. Zach felt himself slowly relaxing. He wondered idly if Hannah somehow knew about pack comfort; what she was doing reminded him of what pack members would sometimes do when he or someone else in the pack was upset, especially the young ones.
After a bit, Hannah’s hand stilled, and her cheek came to rest against Zach’s shoulder blade.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. Her other hand came up to squeeze his arm gently. “You’re safe with me.”
“I know,” he whispered as well, catching her hand before she could pull it away and lacing their fingers together again. “But my body won’t listen to my brain. Instincts and all that.”
“You’re not the only one,” said Hannah, bumping her forehead against his shoulder playfully. “But I promise I’ll behave.”
“Then I promise I’ll tell you when you don’t need to behave anymore,” said Zach, trying his best to be confidently flirty.
“It’s a deal,” said Hannah. She reached for the glass of water and happened to look at Zach’s alarm clock. “Shit! Am I keeping you awake? Have you got classes tomorrow?”
“Yes, and yes,” said Zach. “But I don’t mind.”
Hannah frowned. “Are you sure? I could go if you--”
“Please don’t leave yet,” Zach surprised himself by saying. “I can stay up a bit longer. You’re more important than sleep.”
She gave him a surprisingly sweet smile in response, but then Zach yawned, causing her to burst into the kind of giggles you only hear when people are awake in the middle of the night.
Yes, Zach was exhausted, and it was difficult not to yawn again, but he dragged Hannah back down to lie on the bed with him properly. And maybe it was because he was so tired, or because she was so beautiful and wonderful, or because the way she talked and kissed him wrecked his ability to think clearly, but the words slipped out anyway:
“I’m not entirely sure you’re actually here,” he said in a soft voice, holding Hannah’s hand in his and her eyes with his eyes. “I’ve thought about you a lot since that day in the café, and of course after the other night. I didn’t think you’d… Anyway, thanks. For being real.”
When Hannah didn’t say anything, Zach’s self-consciousness overcame his sleepiness and he looked away, letting Hannah’s hand go as well. “I mean-- God, that sounded so--”
But Hannah just made an exasperated sound and pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek and then his forehead.
“Silly boy,” she murmured against his ear. “I’ve thought about you, too. Why do you think I’m here?” She loosened her grip on him and pulled back far enough that she could see his face. “I will have you know, Mowgli, that I was grounded over you. And then I sneaked out to make the grand romantic gesture of breaking into your flat so I could see you, which means that if I’m caught I’ll be in even worse trouble when I get home.”
Zach frowned. “I don’t want to get you in trouble with your family.”
“Firstly, you haven’t gotten me in trouble. I have. Secondly,” Hanna said with a fond smile, “you are completely worth losing computer and telly privileges over. It’s embarrassing enough that I can be grounded at my age, anyway.”
Oh, right. Her age. Zach had completely forgotten the conversation he’d had with Jack about Hannah being in secondary school. Even though she’d been drinking earlier, that could have been a fake ID. (God knew IDs hadn’t stopped Jack or Isaac.) Zach cleared his throat in what he hoped was a convincingly casual way. “And, er, what age might that be?”
“How old do you think I am?” Hannah asked slyly.
“Well, I’m really hoping you’re at least eighteen, or I’m about to be in quite a lot of trouble with more than just your family.”
Hannah giggled mischievously. “You should see the look on your face right now.” She kissed his nose quickly and closed the rest of the space between them, nestling her face in his neck. When she pulled his arm so that it draped across her and kept her close to him, Zach eagerly shifted so that Hannah could mold herself against him as she said, “No need to fret. I’m eighteen.”
Even Hannah’s silence was nice, Zach decided as they lay there together. Normally, Zach would feel pressured to say something else, to keep the conversation going, but Zach felt like he could be happy just staying like that with Hannah forever.
Hannah sighed deeply. “I ought to go home, let you get some sleep before class.”
“Oh,” said Zach, hoping his disappointment wasn’t too obvious.
“Or... You could always ask me to stay over?”
“Stay,” Zach said without thinking, then added more quietly, “please?”
“If you insist,” Hannah replied with mock reluctance as she nestled more firmly against him.
As delighted as Zach was that Hannah was staying, he had failed to account for the fact that this meant he would need to take his binder off while she was there; it wouldn’t be healthy (or comfortable) to leave it on while sleeping. So much for maintaining the illusion.
“I, um.” Zach reluctantly pulled away from Hannah and got out of bed.
Hannah started to get up, frowning. “I’m sorry. I can go--”
“No, it’s not you. It’s just…” Zach gestured vaguely toward his own torso. “If you could just pretend I don’t have to do this, that would be great.”
Hannah gave him this affectionately exasperated look from the bed, as if he were being utterly ridiculous and she thought it was cute. “Zach. I know who you are. Go get comfortable so we can sleep. I promise not to look, if that helps.”
“It does, actually.” Zach was infinitely grateful that she’d said ‘who’ instead of ‘what’. He’d been an ‘it’ and a ‘what’ to too many people over the past several years. “Okay, um, you can borrow some of my things to sleep in, if you like.”
Zach indicated his bureau drawers (trying not to think too hard about Hannah changing into his clothes), and snatched up a tank that was tight enough to sort of keep everything in place without interfering with his circulation, as well as a loose T-shirt and a pair of pyjama bottoms. Then he fled to his ensuite to change. When he got back, he saw that Hannah had opted to wear one of his smaller T-shirts and a pair of boxer shorts. And now it was impossible not to think about Hannah changing into his clothes. Especially when he happened to see her bra tucked out of the way on the floor.
She was already lying back down on his bed, and seeing her there, curled up beneath his blankets with her head on his pillow, made Zach sure that everything in his life would be okay if only she would be there waiting for him every night...
Which was obviously an overreaction caused by the chemicals in his brain that made him attracted to this girl (who he’d really only known for a few hours cumulatively). But despite knowing the biology of attraction, or perhaps because he knew how it all worked, Zach didn’t care; Hannah was lying in his bed, and as he crawled under the covers beside her, he knew he was being silly and overdramatic and that there was almost no way this would end well, but he was still happy.
Hannah opened her eyes to smile at him sleepily as he lay down next to her. She didn’t move, though, which Zach took to mean that she wanted him to decide how he was going to be most comfortable.
He thought about letting her stay beside him. He wouldn’t be as self-conscious that way. But he didn’t want that. He wanted to be the big spoon, as it were. He wanted to act on his vestigial wolf instincts and curl up close around her, protecting her smaller form. So after a moment of indecision he shifted onto his side and pulled her close against him, his chest pressed to her back.
She must have sensed his anxiety, because she gave a sleepy laugh and said, “Stop worrying that there’s something about you I think is strange. I can’t fall asleep with you being so tense.”
“Sorry,” he murmured, tightening his one-armed hold on her waist. “This is… new.”
“Is new good?”
“Yes,” said Zach, without hesitation. “This kind of new is good.”
“Good.”
It felt nice having Hannah so close like this. Comfortable. Right. Zach had spent the better part of his life feeling uneasy in his own skin. It had gotten a lot better in the past few years, but every now and then he still felt like he was at odds with his own body. Something had just been… off. But not with Hannah. The way her body fit against his gave Zach one of those rare and infinitely precious moments where he felt like he was exactly who he was meant to be. He’d only just met Hannah, and she’d already made him feel more like himself than anyone outside his pack ever had.
“Still not completely sure you’re real,” he murmured into her hair. But Hannah was already fast asleep.
Zach didn’t remember falling asleep, but the feeling of Hannah not being in his arms anymore and the quiet sounds of someone moving around his room were what slowly started to bring him back to consciousness. He hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep, though, and his eyes felt heavy and didn’t want to cooperate when he tried to make them open to look for her.
Then her fingers were brushing the hair away from his forehead and she was gently shushing him. “Go back to sleep, Mowgli. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Zach tried to ask what time it was, but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Still, Hannah must have gotten the general idea because she responded with, “It’s still early.”
He wanted to ask why she was leaving, but the soothing repetition of her fingers stroking his hair was quickly sending him back to sleep.
She kissed him quickly, just before he nodded off again, and the last thought on his mind was the pleasant realisation that her lips still tasted like vanilla.