7 Mail Call

AFGHANISTAN

True to his word, Sirius kept Wyatt updated on Celeste. When she graduated boot camp, he went and watched but stayed away. He fought against every instinct that told him to go to her. But he smiled when the wind shifted, and she caught his scent. Laura was telling her something and then her head popped up and she looked in his direction. He moved further into the shadows to stay out of sight but was glad that she’d had that reaction.

A few days later, a package arrived in the mail. Inside the box, along with pictures and a letter, was a PT shirt in a Ziploc bag. He moved quickly and closed the door to his room in the apartment he shared with two other shipmates. Then he opened it and inhaled that wonderful scent.

Neither of his pila roommates would understand him sniffing a T-shirt in a Ziploc bag to stave off bloodlust and insanity. He often wondered how his pila friends would react if they found out that werewolves and shifters were real. And that, unlike what Hollywood says, they could shift at any time.

But just as Hollywood portrayed, they mated for life. And the beasts that they shared their body with, mind and soul, needed their mate. Without it, the animal would take over, and they would become feral.

A mate was found through the scent that each wolf carried. All people carried a scent, but most pila were unaware of the individual scents. The human side of the werewolf would also feel the pull - a tingling sensation felt at a touch, the urge and unexplainable need to go towards something. Some called it a premonition or a sense of deja vu. A base instinct that predated man having a beast, maybe when he himself was more beast than man.

Without their mate, a wolf would give into the bloodlust. They could lose touch with reality and kill indiscriminately. Sirius had seen wolves and cats that were away from their mates for too long and gave into the bloodlust. So many times, it was passed off as a wild animal attack or a mental break.

As with anything else in this world, there were ways around it. Close contact with the mate or family. Keeping their scent close by. Having pups to care for. Something to keep them grounded and anchored in reality.

The she-wolf across the hall completely understood what Wyatt was experiencing. Her own mate was currently on a float on the submarine USS Texas – not to be confused with the dreadnought battleship USS Texas.

Both she and her husband were from the Buffalo Bayou pack in Houston, Texas. Thanks to them, Wyatt now knew more about the USS Texas than he ever thought possible. Texans may be friendly and humble about themselves, but when it came to their state, they were anything but.

A few months later, he received another package. The she-wolf from across the hall met him in the hallway with the package that was delivered to their apartment in error. This was a unit shirt. Celeste was an M.P. for the Marines.

This is how it went for the next several years. Anytime Sirius or one of his siblings went to see Celeste, they stole a shirt. And then he would get a new package in the mail with her shirt, a letter and if he was really lucky, sweets. He in turn would send her one of his own shirts and a letter and, sometimes, a care package. If she was going to be close by, he would go and watch from a distance. Every time that she caught his scent and looked for him, he and Demon got excited.

Occasionally, he felt like a stalker. Sometimes he even felt guilty.

But then, he’d catch her scent, and the world would spin upside down.

And when she caught his scent, her head would pop up and those silver eyes would seek him.

Once, he was certain that she had seen him. A few other times, he thought that she might have but wasn’t certain. Not like that one time at the bar when their eyes had met. She stared at him with desire in her eyes and started to move towards him. Then her friends got her attention and the desire quickly turned to hate.

Sirius’ words from the Hunt that the Silver Lake pack hosted echoed through his mind. Don’t think that you can just go there and get her; the more you try to force her, the more she will fight. He did not want her to fight him. He wanted her to come to him, willingly and wanting to build a life together.

Wyatt smiled at her and then left. It took everything in him to walk away. But he did.

He knew that if she had come to him, it would have been under the influence of alcohol. She would probably regret it in the morning. As Demon screamed at him to go back to her, he left.

Being much more careful after that, Wyatt never followed her to a bar again. And since she was a Marine, there were lots of bars. Lots of nights that she could have her pick of men to spend the night with. And he had to let her.

From then on, it was strictly letters and packages. And those made the deployments more bearable. Such as the night, not quite two years since the Silver Lake Hunt, he was sitting in the middle of a bombed out building with the Marines that he was embedded with, he pulled out the letter from Laura and reread it yet again in the low light of the moon.

Tucking the latest letter back into his pocket he pulled out his notebook and pencil. With the rest of the men asleep, except for the one walking patrol, a new letter was penned.

My Dearest Mate,

I'm sitting here in the glow of a half moon; the Hunt is only a few weeks away. If we had met at the one at Crystal River, this would be our second anniversary. There are times that I wonder what it would be like if we had met then.

I remember what your brother told me about you, and I know that this is better for us both. You would be miserable having been forced into a marriage you did not want… were not ready for. I would have been miserable knowing that you were at home, and I was not.

I understand your need to serve and travel and to find yourself. I have done the same. I have enjoyed seeing the world. I can only hope that you have also enjoyed your time.

As it is nearly two here, I must get some sleep. But nit before I ask you the question that has been bouncing around in my head for the last few days…

Neither rain, or sleet nor snow… But what about mortar fire? Does that keep the mail from being delivered?

As always, I will wait until the moon goddess brings you to me.

AW

Closing the notepad, he tucked it back into its spot and settled in for a few hours of sleep. Thankfully, the battlefield remained quiet, and he did not have to wonder if the mail still ran under the rain of bullets. Folding up a shirt and placing it in a Ziploc bag, he headed for the exchange.

“You got toys for the K9s?” Wyatt asked the man working the small post exchange.

Chuckling, the man shook his head. “In the past seven months, the answer has never changed. Until today.” A small box of dog toys was placed on the plywood counter. “Had my wife send some just for you.”

“How much do I owe you?” Wyatt asked, taking the whole box.

“Don’t worry about it, Doc.” He smiled, waving the money away before it could appear. “Just…” his eyes cut one way and then the other and his voice dropped to a whisper, “get your Luna.”

Wyatt stepped back and was surprised to see the man’s pupils shift to those of a cat. Taking a deep breath, he wondered why he could not detect the presence of a werecat.

“It’s a blocker and shampoo, ” the postal worker admitted, seeing Wyatt’s confusion. “I’m mated to a Donskoi; I think you call them pila.”

“It’s a breed of hairless dog…” Wyatt explained.

“Same with Donskoi, but a cat.”