Lone Werewolf Duology (bxb)

52. The Sweetest Sorrow

The sobbing coming from the tent shut off Volya's bellyaching better than a slap to the face. He rushed inside. Liam had the sleeping bag pulled over his head like a child. His sobs, though, were not the gurgling misery of a crying boy. Each was separate, half-suppressed and dry, as if Liam no longer believed in tears, but would choke if he didn't let his misery out.

Volya wrapped his arms around Liam's jerking shoulders.

"I'm sorry... so sorry... I'm so very sorry..." He stammered, lost for words. His excuses didn't improve. Heck, they'd gotten worse since he'd heard Liam cry. His gut churned with the fresh dose of self-loathing. He made Liam cry, and he brought nothing back to quench those tears. He was still naked, half-feral and a danger to all.

Liam dug himself from under the covers, sat up and squeezed Volya's face in his hands.

"Oh, thank God!" he exclaimed. Wet lips browsed Volya's forehead, nose and chin. "Thank God, you're back!"

"I'm sorry," Volya said between the smooches, almost in unison with Liam whispering the same thing.

Stunned, Volya pulled away.

Liam's eyes were closed, long lashes clumped from tears, but his face reflected Volya's own incredulous stare, as accurate as any mirror.

"You first," Volya whispered, because whatever Liam was trying to take on, he could dispel his guilt easily. He cornered guilt. "What the heck are you apologizing for?"

"I thought that I've made you transform for good." Liam traced Volya's ears, chest and arms surreptitiously with his fingers, as if he needed the tactile confirmation that Volya wasn't a figment of his imagination. "Like Anabelle."

"I'm not like Anabelle."

Liam swallowed, then whispered, "Was it a nightmare?"

So, the dummy still didn't get what had happened. Volya moved Liam's hands gently, but firmly. "Were it a nightmare, Liam, you'd be much better off."

"That's it. We're leaving. We'll find a way to break the news about Anabelle to the world. I don't care how, but we're leaving right now."

Volya blew hair out of his face. So much to say, so complicated, and all of it linked together. He had to choose his words carefully and in English. Throwing himself onto the Yamnaya's spears would have been easier than sparing Liam some grief.

"We don't have to do that, Liam. My transformation is under control." Well, almost under control. "While I'm learning it, I'm learning how to help Anabelle."

Conflicting feelings flickered across Liam's face. "Are you... are you absolutely sure?"

It was ridiculously easy to just play Anabelle's card. Liam truly loved her. "I know that turning into a werewolf doesn't look like it has anything to do with the curse, but it has everything to do with it."

Great, he'd just cleared everything up.

Liam's doe eyes searched him hopefully.

"I need to stay here longer."

"How much longer?"

"A few days. Maybe until the moon is waxing."

"Sure. That's why we came," Liam replied reasonably, not yet grasping what Volya was driving at.

They had come to the hard part of this exchange. There was no point beating around the bush. Volya caught Liam's hand and pressed it to his lips, holding back the surge of beastly desires that arose in his chest. Liam, bending underneath him, screaming in pain and ecstasy, as he raked his claws down... he licked his lips, half-aroused, half-disgusted.