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though.”
    Jules wagged a
finger at Pat and the wolf sagely nodded at him.
    “My
hunt, my rules. You understand? If I tell you to
run, you run.” Jules tugged at Pat’s ear to make his point.
    Pat only whined in
annoyance. He wasn’t entirely sure if the gravity of his words sunk into Pat’s
thick wolf head, but there was nothing else he could do.
    “Let’s go then,”
Jules said, brushing off his shirt. Pat’s fur rubbing against his jeans as they
walked felt comforting.
    Jules jabbed a
finger into the elevator button and once the elevator’s doors opened, a boy and
his mother jumped at the sight of them.
    “Jeez mister,
that’s a monster of a dog.” The boy peered down at Pat curiously and extended a
hand out.
    He was maybe eight
or ten, and Pat nearly towered over him. His mother tugged him back
protectively, shrieking when Pat opened his mouth, revealing rows of sharp
teeth. His tongue slithered out and only licked the boy’s hand.
    “He’s pretty
harmless, ma’am,” Jules said rather unconvincingly, trying not to laugh.
    “You should place
him on a leash and collar, young man.” The woman stiffened, clutching the boy
close to her bosom. “It’s illegal walking around with animals that huge in
daylight.”
    “I’ll take note of
that,” Jules agreed, ushering Pat into the elevator. “Guess we have to stick to
less open places for now, or should we get you a fancy pink collar?”
    Pat only growled
at him in response, clearly not amused by his peal of laughter.

Chapter Six
     
    The woods tasted
like autumn. It tasted of fallen leaves and freshly turned earth preparing
itself for a cold winter. Normally, the air would be cold. It was just that
kind of autumn where one caught colds or the flu easily if one wasn’t careful.
It was an awful time to be out if one were a human anyway. The air only blew
coolly against their fur and Jules liked it when Pat’s body occasionally brushed
against his. Running through the woods side-by-side, Jules realized he missed
this. Missed the feeling of being free and unbound with his
soul mate running by side.
    Pat nipped at him
playfully, skating away when Jules wiped an annoyed but fond paw at him. If he
didn’t know the shy human Pat lurked beneath the fur of the wolf, Jules
would’ve never guessed this wolf could be him. To him, Pat always hovered in
the shadows and never smiled, as if he couldn’t shake off the unnamed grief
that haunted him.
    Jules wanted to
approach him on many occasions, wanted to clasp his shoulder and tell him that
he’d been there before and it was going to be alright. Except…well he would’ve
have been lying. Jules was a prime example of werewolf who could never move on.
He’d never really gotten over Cole’s death. Why else did he place a ‘pause’
button on living, if he’d gotten over it?
    Pat raced ahead of
him, a beautiful liquid brown blur. Remembering how he’d recklessly darted into
the woods and into the killer’s den without a second thought, Jules ran after
him. The other wolf was a bundle of ill-contained energy, like an undisciplined
wolf pup. Catching up to him, Jules lightly nipped at Pat’s ear, growling in
warning. Focus on the job, Jules wanted to say, hoping the other wolf would get
it.
    Mischief danced in
Pat’s amber eyes even as Jules looked at him disapprovingly. Didn’t he realize
how awful Jules had felt when he heard his yelp of pain and scented his blood
in the air? This time with the two of them, Jules would make sure nothing like
that ever happened again. If Pat had enough of playing and got some sense.
    Jules swatted at
his face, and Pat growled, finally getting his gist. Jules backed away, about
to resume their hunt when Pat lunged at him.
    It wasn’t an
attack. Jules didn’t feel Pat’s claws sink into his fur, but he did feel the
annoyed tug. Having enough of playing, Pat snarled softly at him. It was a
subtle warning that said, in shifter culture, “We haven’t decided who the
dominant