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The hotel was too loud.
Shane could hear multiple parties occurring on his floor alone, not to mention the chaotic scene that was the hotel bar. The draft had ended hours ago, numbers assigned, futures announced, applause fading into chaotic celebration.
Shane had been invited to several different celebrations, but he hadn't been in the mood. Second overall sat in his chest like unfinished motion and he knew the only way that he was going to be able to sleep tonight would be to burn off some of the frustration.
He didn’t bother with the gym bag. Didn’t bother with clothes beyond the bare minimum that propriety demanded. The balcony doors slid open, letting in cool air that was thick with the smell of pine and damp earth.
The hotel stood at the edge of a protected forest preserve, the tree line dark and inviting, and Shane stepped into it without hesitation.
Gravity took him. The change met him halfway.
Night-dark fur spilled over muscle and bone, familiar and grounding. He landed at the forest’s edge on four strong paws, breath already deepening as the woods wrapped around him. Sound sharpened. Scent bloomed—moss, leaf rot, sap, the faint trace of water somewhere deeper in.
Shane ran.
At first, it was steady. Controlled. The kind of pace meant to burn off excess energy, to smooth the jagged edges left behind by long nights and bright lights. His wolf stretched into it gladly, stride lengthening as the trees blurred into dark pillars on either side of him.
Then the forest shifted.
A brush of branches through fur, the crunch of leaves beneath soft paws.
Cold air slid into the space ahead of him, carrying a presence that didn’t belong to any of the area's animal residents. This was heavier. Dominant. Familiar in a way that made Shane’s wolf lift his head without slowing.
White fur flashed between the trees.
Massive. Like a beam of moonlight cutting through the dark woods. Moving with unhurried confidence that spoke of old blood and unchallenged dominance. Pale eyes glittered in the faint light beneath the canopy.
Shane knew him instantly.
Rozanov.
Recognition passed between them like a current snapping taut.
Shane felt a warning growl rumble through his chest, lip lifting just enough to flash a touch of teeth at the other wolf. He had no interest in sharing his run with the wolf who'd taken the first pick spot.
But Rozanov didn't return the aggressive posture. Instead, his jaw dropped open, tongue loose in what was clearly a laugh. One of his fangs caught the moonlight, a chip missing out of the sharp point.
Shane shook the tension from his body, rolling his eyes as he did at the other wolf's expression.
Without further acknowledgement he turned his back on the (only slightly) larger wolf, springing forward to continue his run. He might've dug his back legs in a bit more than necessary to spray dirt onto the other wolf's glossy white fur... not that he'd ever admit that.
He'd hoped that Rozanov would take the hint, but the excited bark that rang out behind him quickly dispelled that hope.
Instead he felt the heat of another body surging beside him. Once he was parallel with Shane the other wolf shook out his fur, showering the dark wolf with the loose dirt that flew from his coat.
Shane let out an offended snarl at the mess, snapping his teeth warningly in the air by one of the light-colored ears.
And then the run transformed into a race.
Rozanov accelerated without warning, long strides eating up ground with effortless power to pull several strides ahead of the smaller wolf. Shane answered immediately, muscles burning as he pushed harder, black fur flashing as he drew even and then edged ahead.
The forest opened for them.
They tore through it, weaving between trees, leaping fallen logs, skidding through patches of loose earth and correcting without breaking stride. One would pull ahead, the other answering moments later, overtaking and being overtaken in a fluid, relentless exchange.
Neither yielded.
Eventually Shane began to feel the sharp pull of air, breath coming faster, heavier, that he knew meant he was nearing his limit. His wolf burned bright with exertion, exhilaration thrumming through him even as fatigue began to creep in. He dug deep, pushing through another burst of speed, matching Rozanov stride for stride one last time.
For a moment the two bodies were in perfect synchrony, black and white forms slipping through the dark as if in a dance.
And then Shane slowed.
The sprint bled into a jog, then into a walk, chest heaving as he dropped his head, breath tearing in and out of him. His paws sank into damp earth as he stopped completely, sides shuddering.
Rozanov came to a stop quickly after. The larger wolf's sides heaved in exertion as well as he trotted back, coming to a stop several feet from Shane.
For a moment the air was filled with nothing but the sound of heavy, panting breaths. The two wolves watched each other with an attentive intensity, reading each other's body language and settling down from the thrill of the race.
Rozanov was the one who broke the moment, stepping a bit closer to the smaller wolf before pausing and lifting his head to scent the air.
A moment later, he turned and disappeared into the trees.
Shane stayed where he was, still breathing hard but no longer shuddering with the effort, listening as the forest settled again. Somewhere ahead, he heard the quiet, unmistakable sound of water—the gentle lap of a creek over stones.
A rustle of brush signaled the dark wolf's return.
Rozanov reappeared at Shane’s side, nudging him firmly at the shoulder. Not forceful, but insistent. He pressed again, using his larger size to get Shane moving until the darker wolf gave in with a huff and followed as the white wolf duck back under the branches in the direction that he'd been investigating.
It only took Shane a moment to figure out where Rozanov was leading them, as the sound of water burbling over rock became louder with each step.
Another five feet and the little stream came into view. Clear water slid over smooth rocks, cool and inviting.
Shane hesitated only a moment before brushing past Rozanov and stepping into the edge of the water. Water soaked the tired pads of his front paws as he lowered his head and drank deeply, easing the burn in his muscles and the tightness in his chest.
Next to him the water splashed lightly as Rozanov stepped next to him. White wolf's head lowered to lap at the crisp water even as his gaze never left Shane. His ears swiveled and flicked in response to the forest sounds around them.
Reveling in the cool water Shane drank until his breathing slowed, until the world steadied again. When he finally lifted his head he moved a short distance away and collapsed at the base of a wide pine, the ground there soft with needles. He stretched out on his side, exhaustion finally catching up with him, and began to clean the mud from his fur with methodical swipes of his tongue.
Rozanov lingered for a moment longer in the water before stepping out. He flicked his paws to shake off the water in a way that amusingly reminded Shane of a cat and stopped a few steps away from where the black wolf was sprawled out.
Rozanov hesitated, hovering for just long enough that Shane noticed the unsure pause. The large wolf paced once, then stopped, attention fixed on Shane. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself beside him, curling his massive body along Shane’s back, careful not to crowd him.
Shane stilled, surprised, but didn’t pull away.
Rozanov watched him for a long moment, waiting to see if Shane was going to reject his presence. When the black wolf didn't react beyond a measured glance Rozanov leaned in and began to groom the places Shane couldn’t reach—along his shoulders, the back of his neck, between his shoulder blades where dried mud clung stubbornly.
The touch was gentle. Deliberate.
Shane’s wolf startled at first, then settled, warmth blooming low in his chest. He allowed it, leaning subtly into the contact, eyes slipping half-closed as tension eased out of him completely.
The forest hummed softly around them.
At some point, breathing slowed. Bodies stilled. Sleep claimed them both beneath the pine’s sheltering branches.
Shane woke to quiet.
Morning light filtered weakly through the trees, pale and cool. He lifted his head slowly, blinking in surprise at the light. He hadn't meant to sleep for so long, had in fact never accidentally slept a full night in his wolf form.
The memory of steady warmth along his back and a heavy head resting on his shoulder made his pulse tick up with both nerves and pleasure. He shifted just enough to look behind him, already knowing what he would see.
He was alone.
The space beside him was empty, but the earth there was pressed down, unmistakably shaped by the curve of another body. The scent lingered too—cold air and iron and something undeniably Rozanov, worked deep into Shane’s fur where he’d been groomed.
For a long moment Shane lay in the moment, breathing deeply and enjoying the feel of muscles that had been worked hard and then properly rested.
Then, slowly, he rose, the day waiting whether he was ready or not. But for the first time since the draft results were announced all he felt no frustration at coming second, or fear of letting down his parents.
Just excitement for the future that lay spread out ahead of him.