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Winter high up on the northern mountain spared no one's weakness, and Lando had spent nearly a decade surviving by simply not caring about anyone else's. His wolf was fast, with ash-brown fur and paws used to sharp rocks; a solitary wolf who never went down to the valleys or answered the distant calls of neighboring packs. The mountain was his, quiet and still, exactly how he liked it. Until the metallic scent of fresh blood cut through the pure, freezing air. At the edge of the ravine, half-buried in snow and broken undergrowth, lay a grayish shape. It was a young alpha, large and powerfully built, but on the verge of death. He was unconscious, his side torn open by claws, barely breathing with a faint wheeze against the snow.
The rule of the mountain was simple, what falls in the snow stays in the snow. Lando snorted, turned around on all fours, and began walking away without looking back. Not his pack, not his problem. But the northern wind betrayed him with a violent gust that slammed the alpha's scent straight into his snout. It didn't just smell like blood or wet earth; underneath the pain burned a deep note of fresh wood and rain-soaked earth that struck his gut like a physical blow. His inner wolf froze in its tracks, thrashing behind his ribs with a primal howl that tightened the muscles in his neck. It was a biological command, an invisible bond that in twenty-six winters had never bothered to wake up. Lando bared his teeth, furious with his own body for reacting like that to a stranger he didn't even know.
He returned to the ravine, cursing with every step. Shifting broke the silence with the dry snap of bones and joints realigning all at once. Standing in the snow, Lando's pale, naked skin didn't shiver against the freezing wind; nudity was second nature to someone living wild. He knelt in the slush, running rough hands through the alpha's fur to check the damage. Touching the wolf's warm neck sent an electric shock through his palms, raising the hair on the back of his neck. With an effort that wrenched a hoarse groan from his throat, Lando hoisted the massive, dead weight of the boy over his shoulders. The alpha's head fell heavy against his neck, dusting his skin with short, hot breaths as they began the slow trek up toward the shelter.
The cabin was a rough but sturdy shelter Lando had built trunk by trunk at the base of a massive boulder that shielded it from the wind. Inside, the air held onto the warmth of a stone fireplace where glowing embers still lingered. He dropped the wolf onto the wooden bed, cushioned with thick furs that softened the impact. In the closed space, the alpha's scent grew heavy; it no longer scattered in the wind, but clung to the logs, the blankets, and Lando's own skin. With a clay bowl of warm water and crushed roots to ward off infection, he set to work cleaning the torn gash along his side. The beast shivered with fever. Every time Lando's fingers brushed raw flesh, the wolf let out a low growl, a warning that only sparked anger in Lando. He had no intention of backing down under his own roof.
The shift to human form came in the middle of the night from sheer exhaustion and fever. The crack of shifting bones broke the quiet around the fire, and thick fur gave way to the damp, broad skin of an alpha. Oscar wasn't small; despite his youth, he had wide shoulders, strong arms, and a straight, sharp jawline. Lando froze by the fire, dirty rag in hand, staring at the chest rising and falling violently. Seeing another shapeshifter unclothed was nothing new, but the sheer presence of this alpha filled the entire room. He moved closer to drape a heavy pelt over him, and brushing the heat of the feverish neck, the scent of fresh pine and rain flared so intensely Lando's knees went weak. The scent gland on his own neck pulsed, craving warmth. He ground his teeth, furious with his body for wanting to curl up against a stranger.
The grip was sudden. A large, burning hand clamped tightly around Lando's wrist just as he tried to pull away. Oscar didn't open his eyes all the way; beneath dark lashes there was only a fever-hazed gaze, guided purely by animal instinct. The alpha yanked downward with force, dragging Lando to his knees on the furs, chest pressed against his. The skin-to-skin contact dragged a soft, submissive sound from the depths of Lando's throat, which he cut off instantly by biting his tongue until he tasted blood. Oscar inhaled deeply against the omega's neck, nuzzling the exact spot where his scent gland throbbed, letting out a heavy, possessive breath. Lando pressed his free hand against the alpha's chest to shove him off, torn between his stubborn pride and the heat threatening to freeze his muscles.
Survival instinct beat out the dizziness. With a sharp wrench that nearly sprained his wrist, Lando broke free and stumbled back onto the wooden planks. The air escaped his split lips in ragged gasps. It took him less than a second to grab the sharp stone knife with its wooden handle from his belt. Before the alpha could push himself up, Lando lunged, planting a knee on the edge of the bed and pressing the blade straight to his throat.
—Move an inch and I'll slit your throat —he warned harshly, chest heaving, eyes blazing, refusing to show the faint tremor in his limbs.
Oscar didn't flinch. The blade pressed hard enough to dent the skin, but the alpha didn't even try to pull back. The fever haze had cleared, revealing dark, steady, completely unbothered eyes. Up close, he didn't look fragile, he was a young alpha of twenty-two winters, broad-shouldered and built with the strength of a hunter weathered by snow, noticeably larger than Lando. He had fallen to an ambush or the bitter cold, not weakness. He looked at the knife and the omega's coiled stance with total calm.
—You didn't haul me all the way up here just to butcher me on your blankets —the alpha rasped, voice cracked with thirst, yet carrying a heavy calm that filled the cabin.
Lando held the knife there for three more seconds, if only to prove to himself he was still in control. The alpha's pulse beat slow and steady beneath the cold stone, without a flicker of fear. With an irritated huff, Lando yanked the blade away, though his hand remained clenched tight around the hilt. Turning toward the hearth, he grabbed an earthen bowl of warm water and honey and held it out, keeping a safe distance.
—Drink —Lando spat, glaring at him coldly— And keep your hands still. This cabin is mine, the firewood is mine, and you'll freeze the second you step outside. Don't look for trouble.
Oscar took the bowl slowly, careful not to pull at his wounded side. His eyes never left the omega's prickly stance, clocking his tense muscles and the way he tracked every single breath. He drank steadily, feeling the warm liquid soothe the fire in his throat. When finished, he set the bowl on the floorboards and rested his head back against the log wall with a breath.
—I just want to make it through the night —the alpha said, voice low and flat, closing his eyes without a hint of hostility or submission— I won't touch anything of yours.
Lando clicked his tongue, slipping the knife back into his belt without letting his guard down.
—You better not —Lando ended the conversation, sitting by the fire to keep watch, resigned to the fact that neither of them was sleeping tonight.
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Frost crunched beneath Lando's fur boots the following morning. The early air burned his lungs. He knelt by the small patch dug out between the rocks behind the cabin, clawing at the hardened earth with a spade of wood and bone. He was digging for the winter potatoes and tubers that usually endured beneath the frozen soil, but what he found was ruined. Almost everything had rotted before maturing, withered by a cold that had struck weeks early. The basket barely filled a third with scrawny, dried-up roots. A knot of dread twisted in his gut, the mountain was warning him that this winter would show no mercy.
He slammed the cabin door behind him, shaking loose snow from the frame. He dropped the basket onto the pine table with a dull thud that sent a couple of dirty roots rolling across the wood.
—The ground died early —Lando said bluntly, dusting snow from his curls and rubbing his red hands in front of the fire—There isn't even half of what we usually get. If the soil froze to the root on the first frost, this winter is going to be the longest and harshest in years. This barely fed me alone... now there are two of us in this cabin.
Oscar watched him from the bed, sitting with his back against the logs and the bandage on his flank clean. His eyes took in the meager food without surprise; he had seen that exact same misery weeks ago.
—It was the same in the valleys —Oscar said quietly, measuring each word as if breathing took effort—The crops didn't grow and the packs started rationing. The young, unmated alphas were kicked out before the first real snow. Fewer mouths to feed so the rest wouldn't starve.
The alpha sounded neither bitter nor defeated; he was merely stating a brutal fact. Lando stood still, a sour lump rising in his throat at the detachment with which Oscar summarized his exile. Nothing came free on the mountain, but for a pack to cast out its own young hunters proved that panic ran deep below. He set his jaw; there was no time for pity.
—Then there's no choice —Lando declared, pulling down his hunting belt and a thick coil of rope— These roots won't keep us alive. We need fat and cured meat before the worst blizzard hits, and the only prey big enough is down in the low forest. I'm going after a stag.
Oscar tried to swing his legs over the edge, but a strangled gasp caught in his throat as the gash on his flank flared with agony. He froze halfway, knuckles white against the wood.
—You can't take down an animal that size alone —the alpha said tautly, pinning him with a stare— Wait until my wound heals. We hunt together.
—If I wait for you to heal, snow will bury the door and we'll be eating bark —Lando snapped back, though his gaze flickered to the bandage with thinly veiled concern—Stay put, keep the fire going, and don't die while I'm gone.
Lando shifted without a sound, in the blink of an eye, the brown wolf shook out its coat, puffed a warm breath toward the bed, and vanished quickly among the trees. The hunt was brutal and lasted nearly two days. He tracked prints half-erased by the wind until cornering a massive red stag at the bottom of a rocky ravine. The clash was violent and desperate. In the final struggle, a vicious kick from the stag slammed squarely into the wolf's ribs, splintering bone before Lando managed to clamp his jaws around its throat, bringing the giant beast crashing down onto the crimson-stained snow.
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Nearly two days had passed in the cabin. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the logs as if trying to tear them apart. Inside, Oscar's wolf found no peace; the omega's scent hadn't returned, and the bond tying them together throbbed in his chest like an alarm. Lando was down somewhere out in the storm. Without stopping to consider if his wound would hold, Oscar threw a heavy pelt over his shoulders, seized a burning branch, and shoved the door open. The freezing gale nearly knocked him flat, but the faint trail of pine and fresh blood guided him blind through the blizzard.
He found him a few miles from the cabin, sprawled motionless beside the carcass of the dead stag. The agony in his ribs had forced Lando back into human form; he lay curled in the snow, bare, bruised, and losing heat fast. Hauling both the giant stag and the battered omega through that wind was impossible. Oscar didn't hesitate, he buried the deer under a mound of snow to protect it from scavengers, scooped Lando up gently against his warm chest, wrapped him in his own coat, and started the trek back, teeth clenched against the gale.
Lando woke hours later, his side burning like fire. The cabin was dim, lit only by the embers of the hearth. Reaching out to find the bed empty, panic seized his chest, the alpha was gone. The deer was gone too. The blankets were cold. The thought that he had failed, that he was crippled and alone before the worst of the freeze, shattered his resolve. He curled inward, weeping silently in bitter helplessness against the furs, loathing how weak he felt.
The sudden bang of the door flying open shattered the quiet. A swirl of snow rushed in, and behind it appeared Oscar, brows and shoulders frosted white. His flank bandage was bleeding again, but his hands hauled with raw strength on the rope hitched to the dead stag. With one final heavy heave, he dragged the carcass into the cabin, kicked the door shut, and dropped the wooden bar across it. He dropped to his knees on the floor, panting clouds of thick steam, eyes locked onto Lando.
—Still alive —the alpha rasped through frost-bitten breath, a bare whisper that stopped the omega's tears in their tracks.
Relief lasted only a heartbeat. Oscar's strength gave out and his body collapsed hard against the floorboards. The stag lay half-settled and frost was creeping under the threshold. Lando swallowed his tears, a sudden rush of protective anger dulling the agony in his ribs. Crawling as best he could, he secured the door and dragged the alpha toward the bed. Oscar was freezing, and the wound on his side had reopened. Legs shaking and groaning with every push, Lando managed to hoist Oscar's weight onto the furs before slumping to the floor, resting his forehead against the wood to keep from blacking out.
He couldn't pass out now. He dragged over a bowl of warm water and his jars of animal fat and medicinal herbs. With quick hands, he peeled away the soiled linen strips and cleaned the open wound. Oscar's scent, wood, rain, and fresh earth, filled the warm room again, hitting Lando right in the chest. The omega ground his teeth, quietly cursing how stubborn the alpha was while rubbing the salve into the tear. Every time his hands brushed the hot skin of the other's stomach, a strange pull tightened his gut, forcing him to breathe slowly to stay grounded.
Outside, the trees groaned, signaling the temperature was plummeting. Lando dug into the bottom of a wooden chest for his heaviest pelts, a thick bison hide and a black bear pelt. He climbed onto the bed and tucked Oscar in up to his chin, sealing the edges tight. In his heavy sleep, the alpha instinctively chased the heat, burying his face in the furs and letting out warm breath that brushed Lando's fingers. The omega froze, staring at the sharp jawline and pale skin. He pulled his hand away abruptly, irritated with himself for hovering like a dazed pup.
Sitting by the fire, Lando tended to himself. The hoof strike had left an ugly purple bruise across three ribs; they were cracked, not shattered, but fast movements stole his breath. He applied the salve and bound his chest tightly to immobilize it. He wasn't hungry, after taking down the stag in the woods, his wolf had gorged on the fresh kill before attempting to drag it, leaving him enough reserves to go two days without a bite. Bound tight and clear-headed, he got to his feet.
The stag on the floor couldn't wait. If the night chill froze the carcass solid, butchering it would be impossible. Armed with his stone knife, Lando knelt and began the heavy labor, skinning the hide with clean cuts, carving out the haunches, and hanging strips of meat from the roof beams where the chimney smoke would cure them. He collected blocks of tallow in clay bowls to render into lamp oil and grease. He worked for hours without a break, sweating through the pain in his ribs, accompanied only by the steady, quiet rhythm of the alpha's breathing.
Once the last strip hung suspended and the blood was scrubbed from the floor, sheer exhaustion crushed him. He washed his arms in cold water and looked toward the bed. Thick pelts covered Oscar, occupying the space that had always been Lando's alone. The mere thought of climbing up there, sharing that narrow ledge with a large, naked body, flushed his ears scarlet. He buried his face in his hands, furious at the ridiculous shyness overtaking him under his own roof.
Yet the chill seeping up through the floorboards was relentless. With no other way to keep from freezing his battered bones, Lando climbed quietly onto the platform, careful not to creak the planks. He lay with his back to Oscar, keeping a careful gap between them and pulling the bear pelt up over his head. It did nothing. Oscar's body was a furnace at his back, a dense heat bleeding through the furs, dousing him in that scent of forest and rain that loosened his shoulders without permission.
What infuriated him most was his own body's treason. Deep in his chest, his wolf settled with such deep relief that Lando felt the phantom wag of a tail thumping contentedly against his ribs. He was safe, warm, and sheltered by an alpha. Shame burned his cheeks in the dark. He gritted his teeth, feeling like a fool for yielding so easily. He couldn't stay here; he'd rather freeze on the hard floor than let his body go soft.
Gingerly, Lando edged his legs toward the side to climb down. But the second his feet caught the cold air, a heavy arm shot across the furs like a spring trap. A large, scorching hand clamped around his waist, stopping him dead. The pull was firm, unhurried, but unyielding, the alpha dragged him backward across the bed until Lando's back hit his broad, warm chest flush. The breath lodged in his throat. The electric shock that zapped up his spine from that direct skin-to-skin touch left him frozen, unable to move.
Oscar's steady breath washed over the sensitive skin of his neck, thick and warm. His voice carried no trace of sleep; it was low, gravelly, and resolute.
—If you go down to the floor, I'll have to drag myself down after you —the alpha said quietly, his heavy hand resting over Lando's stomach to anchor him in place— And we'll both tear our ribs open. Go to sleep. Your wolf already picked where it wants to stay.
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What alerted Lando before he even opened his eyes the next morning was the total silence. It wasn't the usual quiet, but a dead, muffled heaviness, as if the world had frozen solid. Opening his eyes, the light wasn't white, but a dim, ghostly blue. He checked the low window near the fireplace, it was completely walled off by a solid bank of snow. The worst blizzard hadn't waited for the three days they'd calculated; the storm had struck in the night with savage fury, burying the cabin halfway up and trapping them inside.
The dread of being trapped lasted only a second before he registered how he was lying. Lando wasn't cold at all; quite the opposite, he was drenched in thick warmth beneath the pelts. Sometime in the night, his body had completely defied his mind, he was wrapped entirely around Oscar. His nose was buried in the crook of the alpha's neck, breathing in his scent without realizing it, with one leg tangled between Oscar's and his forehead resting against his bare chest. Shame scorched his skin the instant he realized how thoroughly exposed he was.
He tried to slide away inch by inch without waking him, but a searing jolt through his ribs snatched the air from his lungs. The ache wasn't a dull thud anymore; it was a throbbing burn eating him from the inside out. The healing fever was catching up to him, that harsh process where a shifter's core temperature spikes to knit broken bone before the cold can freeze it crooked. He was burning up, frail and trembling, a low whimper slipping past his teeth.
That faint sound was enough. Oscar's arm over his hip didn't loosen; if anything, it locked tight, hauling Lando flush against his chest once more.
—Snow's burying the door and you're burning up with fever —Oscar muttered without opening his eyes, holding him with maddening ease— Nowhere to go. Stop fighting the blankets.
The alpha's hand slid up his flank, feeling the wrap and the scorching heat of Lando's skin with instinctive care. Without another word, Oscar adjusted him in his arms and dipped his head, resting his jaw against the curve of Lando's neck. He began rubbing his chin slowly against Lando's scent gland, releasing a warm wash of forest and rain to soothe the throbbing bone. The gentle friction and the hot breath against his most vulnerable spot sent such a fierce shiver down Lando's spine that a soft gasp escaped him, his wolf melting against the alpha in helpless surrender.
The humiliation of being subdued by a mere touch lit a spark of rage. With a muffled snarl, Lando bared his teeth and snapped blindly at Oscar's shoulder. He sank his teeth in hard, wanting to hurt him, to force him to let go, to prove he wasn't some helpless pup to be coddled. But the bite had no real bite to it, between the dizzying fever and the agony in his ribs whenever he strained, the nip was weak, barely indenting Oscar's skin.
Oscar didn't even flinch. Instead of pulling away or shoving back, he let out a low rumble from deep in his chest, a sound so heavy and commanding it vibrated right into Lando's bones like a quiet order. Far from retreating, Oscar tilted his head farther, offering more neck if it would settle him, while slowly carding his fingers through Lando's dark, sweat-damp curls.
—If you're going to bite me, actually bite —he rumbled against his temple, unbothered— You won't shake me off with that.
The breath left Lando all at once. His jaw trembled until his teeth slipped from the marked flesh, leaving behind only faint red crescents on the alpha's shoulder. All the fight drained from his limbs, leaving him slumping his forehead into the hollow of Oscar's neck, panting. His inner wolf, far from defiant, let out a soft, submissive whine, nuzzling against the alpha's pulse to sue for peace. Oscar stroked the nape of his neck patiently, smoothing the knots in his hair and letting off a scent so rich and warm that the sharp ache in his side began to dull into a heavy haze.
The cabin remained in dim shadow, sealed under the snow. Oscar stretched deliberately, drawing Lando along without unsettling the blankets, until his long arm reached the bowl of cold meltwater on the bedside stool. He brought the rim to Lando's lips, coaxing him into small sips. The cold water soothed his parched throat; he drank with heavy eyelids, swallowing his pride under the alpha's watchful gaze.
With a sure motion, Oscar pulled the bison pelt up over their shoulders, trapping their shared heat beneath the covers. He circled Lando's waist with his good arm, anchoring him to his chest and tucking Lando's cold feet between his own legs.
—Storm isn't breaking anytime soon —the alpha murmured into the quiet, eyes closed, resting his face in Lando's curls— There's meat, there's fire, and you need those ribs to heal. Sleep.
Lando squeezed his eyes shut, but the hands that had meant to push the alpha away ended up gripping his sides instead, finally giving in to the heavy slumber his fever demanded.
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Midway through the second night, the temperature plummeted past endurance. It was a biting cold that sneaked through the logs, frosting even the stone edges of the hearth. Lando began to shiver. At first it was faint tremors, but before long his whole body convulsed with violent spasms. His skin turned pale and bluish, his fingernails bruised purple, his lips drained of color. The heat of the fever had vanished, replaced by a numbing freeze that seeped into his marrow.
The change in breathing jerked Oscar awake. Touching Lando's arm was like touching a slab of ice. Panic flared instantly. Forgetting the ache in his own flank, he sprang up, hurried barefoot across the frozen floorboards, stoked the coals, and tossed on three thick pine logs until the flames roared, fighting to push warmth toward the bed.
He emptied the wooden chest, hauling out every pelt left, fox skins, deer hides, and thick wool. He piled everything over Lando, but the omega's body wouldn't hold heat; he kept shuddering so hard his teeth clattered together hollowly. Oscar ladled hot broth into a bowl and sat beside him, cradling the back of his head. He tried to get him to drink, but Lando's lips barely parted; the broth dribbled down his chin, unable to swallow through the clenching of his frozen jaw.
—Look at me —Oscar commanded steadily, rubbing his chest to force the blood to move— You have to swallow.
Lando could barely slit his eyes open, his gaze glassy and unfocused. Oscar knew pelts and human body heat wouldn't cut it against this freeze; Lando's body was shutting down. Setting the bowl aside, he planted his palms on the mattress, taking a deep breath.
—I'm going to shift —the alpha said urgently— My wolf's coat holds heat better than any dead hide. It'll bring you back in minutes.
Despite the fog clouding his mind, Lando's stubborn streak didn't break. With a ragged effort, he lifted a trembling hand and clamped his stiff fingers around Oscar's wrist, pushing back weakly.
—Don't be... an idiot —he forced out between chattering teeth, his voice raspy—Shifting... will cost you all your energy. Your wound won't take it. If your wolf burns that strength now... you'll need twice as much food not to starve... and we won't make it... to spring...
The words trailed off into a frosty sigh. Lando's grip slipped from Oscar's wrist, his hand falling limp onto the pelts. His eyes slid shut and his head rolled to the side, slipping into unconsciousness. The pulse in his throat was a slow, faint flutter. Oscar's chest tightened, there was no time to count rations or worry about spring if the omega died tonight.
He didn't hesitate. The sound of shifting filled the cabin, a sharp snap of expanding bone and tearing sinew as muscle stretched with brutal force. The wound on his flank pulled hard, tearing a deep grunt of pain from his throat. In seconds, his human form gave way to a monstrous wolf, broad-backed with paws like tree stumps and a dark, dense, shaggy coat built to endure the deadliest mountain gales.
The wolf shook out his muzzle and climbed gingerly onto the bed, mindful of his weight. Nudging aside the useless blankets with his nose, he curled onto his side, bending his massive frame into a sheltering crescent around Lando. He enveloped the omega with his barrel chest, draped his thick tail over his frozen legs, and bracketed him with his front paws, trapping him in a living hearth of burning fur that radiated heat like an oven in the dead of winter.
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Lando woke hours later. What met him wasn't pain or cold, but a rich, heavy warmth filling his lungs. The stiffness in his limbs was gone; he could flex his fingers and his face felt warm. Opening his eyes, he faced a soft wall of dark fur that smelled of fresh pine and rain. He was tucked flush against the giant wolf's belly, completely shielded from the chill of the cabin. A tender ache tightened his chest, dissolving all urge to fight. Slowly, he slipped a hand out from under the covers and buried his fingers into the thick scruff of the beast's neck, scratching behind his ear in quiet, tender gratitude.
The wolf wasn't asleep. Feeling the omega's touch, his ears flicked forward and he opened calm, amber eyes. He puffed a warm breath that ruffled Lando's hair and, instead of pulling back, rested his broad muzzle against the crook of Lando's neck, settling heavily across his chest with a soft rumble that vibrated between them. Lando let his breath out slowly, closing his eyes and resting his chin over the wolf's furry crown.
—I'm Lando —he whispered softly into the warm fur— In case you wanted to know.
The peace was short-lived. From deep in the wolf's belly came a hollow, rumbling growl, the beast's gut was churning with raw hunger. Radiating that kind of heat to drag Lando back from hypothermia had burned through every ounce of reserve fat he had left. The wolf dropped his chin heavily onto the mattress, spent, a violent tremor of starvation shaking his forepaws.
Lando understood right away. Maintaining a wolf body that large burned three times as much energy as being human. If Oscar stayed on four legs, he'd starve from the inside out. Gently but firmly, Lando cupped the scruff of his neck and scratched behind his ears to coax his head up.
—You have to shift back —he said softly, holding those amber eyes— You warmed me up, I'm okay now. If you stay a wolf you'll burn through yourself. Turn back into a human; there's meat hanging from the rafters.
The wolf held his gaze for a beat, turning the command over with characteristic calm, and blew a warm puff of air against his cheek. With a gravelly whine, he slid off the bed onto the floor. The shift was agonizing, bones cracking back into place and breath tearing from his lungs as fur melted back into bare skin. When Oscar tumbled onto his side in human form, gasping against the floorboards, Lando was down beside him in an instant. The first thing he checked was his flank, to his shock, the wolf's rapid healing had worked wonders. The open wound had sealed into a thick, pink scar; the bleeding had stopped. But in return, Oscar was gaunt, his ribs stark against pale skin from the brutal drain on his reserves.
Lando tossed a pelt over him so he wouldn't freeze. Oscar lifted his head slowly, sweat gluing dark hair to his brow, eyes alert as they caught Lando's.
—Oscar —the alpha rasped, voice cracked from strain, but steady— My name is Oscar.
Lando held his gaze. The name sounded solid, unvarnished, fitting the quiet alpha before him to perfection.
—Alright, Oscar —Lando replied, hardening his face to mask the flutter in his chest— Now get up before the cold sets into your bones again. I didn't save your life twice just to watch you starve to death on my floor.
Hunger couldn't wait. Lando moved swiftly to the hearth, stoked the dry wood, and coaxed a deep bed of glowing coals. He sliced thick cuts of venison from the hanging carcass and laid them across a flat stone over the fire. The hiss of sizzling fat and the rich aroma of roasted meat filled the cabin within seconds, setting both their stomachs growling in unison. In a clay pot, he stirred boiling broth with rendered fat and coarse salt, heating it until steam billowed.
They ate side by side on the floor by the fire, wrapped in pelts. Oscar devoured the hot meat ravenously, swallowing large chunks to fill the hollow pit left by the shift. Lando ate more measuredly, feeling his strength return and relieved to see color creeping back into Oscar's cheeks. The closeness no longer felt dangerous; the silence between them had eased into a quiet truce, forged through blood, cold, and saving each other's lives.
Yet outside, the snow kept falling. A sharp crack shuddered through the ceiling beams, chased by the wind shrieking against the stones. The mounting drifts didn't just block the entrance; the draft slipping through the chinks was a black frost, the kind that locks the world in ice for weeks.
—This isn't clearing for days —Oscar said grimly, eyeing the frost clinging to the inner edges of the door despite the fire— Could stay like this for weeks.
—And we can't keep shifting into wolves —Lando answered, hugging his knees as he stared into the embers— If you shift to give off heat, you starve. If I shift with these ribs, the bones will shatter completely. And if we stay human, the firewood will run out long before the snow thaws, and we'll freeze to death in our sleep.
It was a mountain trap. They had enough food to endure while resting, but human body heat couldn't outlast this kind of cold without burning through too much wood. The silence settled back over the cabin, heavier than before. Both knew, by the ancient memory of their wolves, the only way out their kind had in catastrophic freezes, forcing a heat. Prolonged, intimate contact with an alpha's concentrated pheromones forced an omega's core temperature to skyrocket, keeping both of them warm for weeks without relying on the fire.
—You know what wolves do in the snow when there's no fire —Oscar broke the silence, voice low.
Heat surged up Lando's neck. He stared at the stone wall, heart hammering at the reality of it. It wasn't about desire; it was cold survival, a pact between two bodies that had no other way to stay alive under feet of snow.
—This is an agreement to survive, nothing more —Lando said, voice trembling slightly between fear and instinct, turning to look the alpha dead in the eye— If we let this happen... if we force a heat so we don't freeze to death... the second the snow melts and the pass opens, you go your way and I go mine.
Oscar watched him in silence for a few seconds, noting the shake in the omega's hands, before nodding slowly.
—Only to survive —the alpha rumbled, extending a steady hand over the pelt between them— Until spring.
The pact was sealed. Without another word, the bite of the cold spurred them to move. Lando got up on unsteady legs and went to the bed to ready the nest. His hands moved on pure instinct, laying the softest furs in the center, tucking the heaviest hides along the edges to seal out drafts, shaping the hollow to lock in every bit of warmth. His mind screamed that he was tearing down his last defense, but the air in the cabin was already shifting.
Oscar rose slowly from the floor. His body still carried the wear of the shift, but his presence was entirely different now, steady, grounded, his eyes fixed on the omega arranging the blankets. Taking a deep breath, the alpha unleashed his scent completely. Pine and rain deepened into a heavy, intoxicating fog, filling the cabin with a thick, protective presence.
The effect on Lando was instant. A ringing filled his ears and heat flared through his veins. The air turned thick in his lungs; his pulse hammered against his throat and his pale skin flushed scarlet and hot. The alpha's pheromones acted like a spark to dry kindling, waking the cycle Lando had kept dormant through years of isolation, melting the tension from his limbs and clouding his mind with sheer physical need.
The bed groaned under Oscar's weight as he climbed up. He moved slowly across the furs, giving Lando time to adjust to his closeness, even as his broad frame cast a shadow over him. He stopped inches away, their hot breaths mingling in the dimness. Oscar reached out, brushing his knuckles along Lando's flushed cheek, trailing down to the sensitive dip of his neck where his scent gland throbbed wildly.
—Last chance to back out —the alpha growled, dark eyes burning into his.
Lando didn't flinch; he swallowed hard and held his gaze, letting the heat of that hand shatter whatever little fight he had left.
ㅤ♡
Lando closed his eyes, humiliated by his own body and how easily it betrayed his will. He slowly parted his legs, letting the alpha's frame loom over him, heavy and warm. Oscar's gaze traced the silhouette sprawled beneath his shadow. Nudity among shifters was an everyday thing, completely natural; but seeing Lando like this, exposed, vulnerable, legs parted in an unspoken offering, felt entirely different. He was a strong omega, that much was obvious, arms toned from years of hunting and building, a flat, hard stomach, and thick thighs from running the mountain paths. But what completely caught Oscar's attention was the perfect curve of his hips, the full, firm ass resting against the furs, waiting.
He had this omega right in front of him, thighs open and ready to take whatever Oscar wanted to give him. It was a first time for both of them, he knew it from the nervous scent rolling off Lando, from the taut pull in his muscles, but deep down in the marrow of instinct, mating was nothing more than a biological necessity. Push in, knot, fill him. Simple.
With that primal thought hammering behind his temples, Oscar braced himself. Lando squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the harsh entry, the rough, careless shove he feared so much. Tears pricked at the corners of his closed eyes; he had never imagined doing this, had never wanted to submit. He knew how the valley alphas were, consumed only with their own pleasure, pushing in hard, ignoring the omega's pain, caring little whether there was any pleasure or just endurance.
—You need to relax... Lando —Oscar breathed against his neck, his voice a low vibration against sensitive skin— You can tell me if anything hurts or bothers you, and I'll stop immediately. Is that alright?
Lando opened his eyes, disoriented. Still processing the words, so foreign, so careful, he felt heat flood his cheeks. He tried to fire back, to shape some sharp or defiant remark, but only managed a small, trembling nod.
Oscar pressed soft kisses to Lando's scent gland, right where neck met shoulder, where his purest essence throbbed. With his right hand, he gathered both of the omega's wrists and pinned them above his head into the furs. With his left, he began slowly stroking the inside of Lando's thighs, sweeping up and down in a steady rhythm that woke nerve endings where there had only been tension.
Lando bit down hard on his lip, refusing to make a sound, refusing to show weakness. But with the alpha working on him like this, coaxing sensation from multiple places at once, completely forgetting the rush, he knew he wouldn't last.
Oscar felt the resistance, the internal war the omega was waging against his own pleasure. He shifted tactics; the kisses deepened into long, slow drags of his tongue. First over the scent gland, then tracing down his collarbone, brushing his shoulders. When he saw Lando was still reluctant to part his lips, he kept descending until he found the omega's peaked nipples.
—What are you... —Lando gasped, but the question dissolved into a helpless moan when Oscar caught one of those points between his teeth.
The alpha tugged the sensitive flesh gently, teasing with the tip of his tongue, alternating between suckling and releasing. He let go of Lando's wrists to span the other's chest with his large hand, pressing down firmly while his mouth worked the nipple with a feral hunger, as if expecting something to flow from it, as if determined to draw out every last ounce of fight.
Lando didn't know where to put his hands. They ended up buried in Oscar's dark hair, torn between shoving him off and pulling him closer. Oscar took the gesture as permission, or perhaps he simply couldn't hold back anymore, and used both hands to cup each side of the omega's chest, alternating his mouth between them, sucking, nipping, leaving the skin flushed and glistening.
Lando didn't realize he had started making noise, breathless whimpers, broken gasps, muffled protests slipping out without consent. Nor did he notice that his entrance, tight, throbbing, tucked between his thighs, had begun weeping slick, that biological lubrication his body so traitorously offered the alpha. He was too caught up in the sight of Oscar devouring his chest, in the feel of those demanding lips. He had never imagined those spots could yield such pleasure; he had always believed they were strictly functional, meant for nursing pups, not to serve as a feast for a starving alpha.
—I love the sounds you make, Lando... —Oscar murmured, glancing up, dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the absolute wreck the omega had become, flushed cheeks, parted mouth, chest damp and marked by his saliva.
—S-stop doing that... nothing's going to come out of there... —Lando managed to stammer, mortified by his own voice, pitch-high and wrecked.
—I just want them red and glistening with my spit —Oscar replied, pressing a final kiss to each nipple as if sealing his work— I want you to feel every part of my mouth on you before I go in.
The alpha continued his descent, dragging his tongue down Lando's trembling stomach, following the trail of sweet scent now flooding the cabin. The omega's slick was unmistakable, a fragrance calling to Oscar with pure instinct.
Lando choked on a cry when Oscar hooked both legs and hitched them high, opening him completely to settle his head between his thighs, burying his face right against his entrance and drinking straight from the source.
—Oscar...
Lando slapped a hand over his mouth, mortified by the ragged moans spilling from his throat. With the other, he caught a handful of the alpha's hair and tried to pull him away, tugging weakly. But that resistance only fed Oscar's hunger; he lapped harder against the tight fold, taking in every drop of slick Lando's body produced, using his tongue to work him open, to prep him, even if in a raw, primal way.
The omega was a mess of moans and ragged breathing now. All strength had drained from his hands, his legs hanging loose, cradled solely by Oscar's arms. His body had surrendered to the heat, going soft for the first time in years. He had never been touched like this; his solitary heats had always been endured in the dark of his cabin, with clumsy, hurried strokes that merely blunted the edge of the ache without ever actually exploring it.
The freeze outside had dissolved entirely. Both were submerged in the heavy heat they shared, in that tangle of pheromones, pine and rain against cedar and snow, creating an intoxicating haze. Oscar paused to look at his work, Lando's opening, once tight and guarded, now glistened pink and swollen, fluttering in tiny, shy spasms, practically begging for what Oscar had yet to give.
Yet Oscar didn't rush. He propped himself up on his elbows, running his eyes over the body spread out beneath him, and then dipped back down.
Lando gasped when he felt Oscar's tongue against his entrance again, licking in long, slow strokes, pressing into the ring of muscle. The alpha used his thumbs to part him gently, exposing him to the warm cabin air, and lapped over him repeatedly until Lando felt entirely undone, his body weeping even more slick under the relentless friction.
When Oscar felt the muscles give way beneath his tongue, he slid a finger inside. Lando gritted his teeth, but it wasn't pain, it was an overwhelming fullness, a sense of intrusion his body didn't know how to process. Oscar worked his finger carefully, curling it in search of the spot that would steal Lando's breath. When he found it, that inner coil that made the omega arch off the pelts with a choked cry, he smiled against his thigh.
He added a second finger, stretching him patiently, mapping each of Lando's reactions. Only when Lando began tilting his hips back against his hand, chasing the friction, chasing the depth, did Oscar rise.
He settled between the omega's legs, lining his cock against that opening, slick, flushed, and yielding, but still narrow. Lando was impossibly tight; years of isolation had kept him completely untouched, and as Oscar began to press in, he felt the taut resistance of unworked muscle and the suffocating heat pulling him down.
Oscar was thick, and as he breached the tight ring, Lando arched with a strangled sob, nails biting deep into the alpha's shoulders. Oscar stopped dead, buried barely an inch deep, his own breath catching from the sheer strain of holding back.
—It hurts... —Lando panted, real tears slipping past his temples, not from agony, but from the raw intensity of the stretch—Wait, wait, please...
Oscar didn't budge. He stayed perfectly still, resting his forehead against Lando's, mingling their labored breaths.
—Breathe —he whispered— Breathe with me. I won't move until you're ready.
Lando obeyed, gulping in air. The burn was searing, a tight heat spreading from his entrance straight into his gut, but Oscar's steady, unyielding patience gave his body room to adjust. Slowly, the sting softened into a heavy, intoxicating ache, a craving for more.
—Alright... it's better now —Lando whispered, startled by his own voice, broken yet urgent— You can... you can keep going.
Oscar drove the rest of the way in, sinking fully until his hips met flush against Lando's ass. Both gasped at once. Oscar buried his face against the omega's neck, savoring the tight, welcoming heat wrapping around him.
He began moving with slow, deep strokes, each thrust angled to graze that inner ridge he had mapped with his fingers. Lando wasn't holding back anymore, abandoning all shame. Every drive from the alpha tore desperate cries from his throat; his legs locked tight around Oscar's waist, heels pressing into his back, urging him deeper, harder.
Oscar slipped a hand down between their bodies, finding Lando's cock hard and slick against his stomach. He began stroking him in time with his thrusts, his fist tight around the omega's length, moving in lockstep with his hips.
—Let go —Oscar rumbled into his ear, voice raspy and low— I want to feel you come around me.
Lando shattered. The sensory overload of being filled, touched, and watched with such absolute focus was too much. He came with a raw cry, his body seizing, his walls clamping down hard around Oscar's length, milking him through spasms that seemed never-ending.
Oscar groaned into the crook of his neck, feeling Lando come, but he didn't stop. He kept driving into him, taking advantage of how soft, receptive, and sensitized the omega's body had become. He thrust once, twice, three times more, and then felt the base of his cock begin to swell, the knot forming, locking deep inside Lando and binding them together.
Lando gasped at the sudden expansion, the realization that they were locked, the searing rush of Oscar's seed filling him in heavy, hot pulses deep inside his core. Oscar bit down on Lando's neck, right over his scent gland, not to claim him permanently, it wasn't the time, there were no mating vows, but as an instinctual anchor while they both rode out the blinding high.
They stayed like that, locked tight, the alpha sheltering the omega with his weight, chest to chest in the dim cabin. The heat they threw off was intense, enough to keep the winter at bay for hours.
—Still with me? —Oscar murmured into his ear, voice trembling with exhaustion.
—...I think so —Lando breathed, barely a thread of sound, eyes shut, cheeks burning—Can't feel my legs, though.
Oscar let out a low huff of laughter against Lando's neck. They stayed joined until the knot eased, and when they finally slipped apart, it was only for Lando, stubbornness flaring despite his bone-deep weariness, to shove Oscar onto his back across the pelts.
—My turn to control this —Lando declared, trying to sound firm, trying to salvage some scrap of dignity.
He sank down onto Oscar's length, which was still semi-hard, groaning as he was stretched full again, but now in control of the angle and the depth. He began to move, riding the alpha with clumsy, determined strokes. His hands braced against Oscar's chest, nails grazing the skin.
Yet Oscar wasn't built to stay underneath for long. He watched Lando move, captivated by the sight of the omega lost in his own pleasure, but the urge to take over quickly proved unbearable. With a swift motion, his large hands clamped onto Lando's hips, halting the rhythm.
—Sorry, Lando —Oscar grunted, a smirk touching his mouth that carried zero apology— But I call the shots.
With raw strength, he began lifting and guiding Lando's hips, using him for his own pleasure, thrusting upward from below with a force that tore sharp cries from Lando's throat. The omega tried to brace himself, tried to keep control of his pace, but Oscar's hands were iron, dictating the depth, forcing him to take every bruising drive.
—Oscar... Oscar, please... —Lando whined, caught between begging him to stop and begging for more.
The alpha didn't answer with words. He only picked up the tempo, hammering into Lando's sweet spot over and over until the omega came again, spilling across Oscar's stomach, his upper body slumping forward in total surrender.
Oscar wasn't done. With his cock still thick, the forced heat keeping him hard beyond reason, he flipped Lando onto all fours across the pelts. The sight of the omega like that, spine dipped, ass offered, entrance red, swollen, and dripping with slick and seed, snapped the last thread of Oscar's restraint.
He lined up behind him, gripping Lando's hips with bruising force, and drove in with one deep, unyielding thrust that made Lando scream into the blankets, burying his face in the scent of his own nest. Oscar began to fuck him with a rough pace that stood in stark contrast to his earlier care. His thrusts were heavy, relentless, the sharp slap of skin against skin echoing off the timber walls alongside Lando's broken sobs.
—You feel... so perfect... so hot... —Oscar groaned, leaning over Lando's back to nip at his shoulder blade, at the nape of his neck.
Lando could only claw at the pelts, taking every drive, feeling his body yield unconditionally. Oscar pushed the pace until the rhythm of their bodies collided with the howling wind outside. When he felt the third knot begin to form, he adjusted the angle, grinding into Lando's spot with merciless precision.
The omega came a third time, though barely anything remained in him, his body seizing in dry, violent tremors that left him trembling, face-down against the furs. Oscar followed seconds later, his knot locking into place, sealing their union as he emptied himself into Lando once more, biting down hard on his shoulder without breaking the skin, a mark of temporary dominance, a boundary held without a permanent claim.
They stayed like that, undone, slick with sweat and release, the cold outside entirely forgotten while the snow kept falling and the embers crackled beside them.
ㅤ♡
The silence that settled over the cabin afterward was unlike any other; it was no longer the icy tension of two wary beasts watching each other's backs, but a heavy, warm, bone-deep exhaustion weighing down their eyelids. Lando could barely move his legs. His breathing gradually slowed against Oscar's chest, feeling the slow, steady thump of the alpha's heartbeat right beneath his ear. The heat radiating between them under the mound of furs was so stifling that, for the first time in weeks, the mountain's relentless freeze felt distant, almost unreal.
Lando blinked slowly into the shadows, aware of his sticky skin and the dull ache in his muscles. His mind, clearing from the blind haze of pheromones, tried to rebuild its old walls, remembering the pact, the distance, the promise that this was merely an arrangement for survival and that come spring, they would part ways. But it was no use. His wolf refused to fight; it was curled deep in his chest, thoroughly content, peaceful, and lulled by the alpha's heavy presence. The guilt of feeling so safe lasted barely a breath before exhaustion pulled him under again.
Oscar didn't pull away an inch. Moving with lazy slowness, he reached out with his free arm to yank the heavy bison hide up over their backs and shoulders, sealing in the pocket of warm air they had made. His large hand slid down Lando's spine in a slow, languid stroke, settling on the curve of his hip to keep him anchored tight against his body. He tipped his face into Lando's messy curls, blowing a warm breath through the dark strands. He said nothing, and the quiet wasn't strained; it was a peaceful truce, a new understanding where neither needed to break the stillness with words they wouldn't know how to say.
The snap of a log collapsing into the embers lulled them into the dark. Outside, snow kept falling without pause, piling onto the roof as a reminder that the worst of winter had only just begun. Lando closed his eyes with a shuddering exhale, surrendering to the pull of sleep while his fingers, almost unconsciously, curled around Oscar's forearm. Spring was far too distant to worry about tonight.
ㅤ♡
The days that followed blurred into a thick haze where time lost all meaning. Snowbound within four log walls while the mountain howled outside, the entire world shrank to the warmth of the nest and the constant gravity of the other. The need to keep the heat burning in their blood drove them to seek each other out again and again over the course of nearly two weeks; no words or explanations were needed for their bodies to tangle under the furs whenever the air chilled, moving with a blind urgency that slowly shed its initial desperation, turning deeper, slower, and shared. They ate roasted venison in quiet, tended to each other's aches with warm water, and slept tangled together, breathing the same air until their combined scent soaked into every timber of the cabin, erasing any trace of the loneliness that had once lived there.
The shift didn't arrive with a roar, but with an entirely different kind of quiet.
Lando woke one morning without the suffocating weight of cold pressing against his face. The cabin didn't groan against the wind. He blinked heavily, catching sight of a clean, golden beam slicing through the dim room, cutting across the floorboards to touch the blankets, direct sunlight. Beside him, Oscar was already awake, staring toward the low window. The solid wall of snow that had blocked it had collapsed; a thin, glassy crust let in a crisp, bright light they hadn't seen in weeks.
The strangest part was the sound from outside. The blizzard was no longer howling. A steady, brisk, cheerful drip pattered against the roof logs.
With his heart skipping in sudden unease, Lando pushed back the furs and slipped out of bed. The floorboards no longer felt like ice against the soles of his feet. He crossed to the door, lifted the wooden bar, and shoved outward. He had expected to dig through packed ice, but the wood gave easily; the drift banked against the frame had turned soft, slumping away in heavy, wet clumps.
The air that hit his face was crisp, but no longer biting.
Oscar stepped up right behind him, a blanket draped over his shoulders, body alert as he looked over Lando's head. The view outside stole their breath. The worst freeze, the one that had threatened to suffocate the mountain for months, had broken early. The sky was wide and clear, a brilliant pale blue, with a gentle sun washing over the peak. The snow was melting fast, clear ribbons of runoff trickled down the rocks, and just yards from the door, the dark soil of Lando's little garden was beginning to poke through the white, soft and wet, waking from its freeze sooner than promised.
It was a miracle for survival, but a death sentence for the peace they had built.
Lando stood frozen in the doorway, staring down at the path along the ravine slowly clearing toward the valley below. Spring was arriving weeks ahead of time. He felt the solid presence of Oscar at his back, his steady warmth, the alpha's quiet breathing grazing his shoulder, and for the first time all winter, fear didn't come from the snow or the hunger.
It came from remembering, with razor-sharp clarity, the pact they had made: the moment the pass opened, they would each go their own way.