Page 52 of Wicked

At this point, I’m willing to try anything.

“Candlewick, I’d like to shift for you. How would you like that?”

He stares forward, his eyes still vacant.

“Just do it,” Lester says. “The guys are getting the stretcher ready.”

I have to pull out my dentures before I shift, which is always humiliating. People don’t expect a man my age to not have any teeth. But at this point, I’ve been stark naked in front of these guys for the better part of an hour, and I don’t know. The adhesive I use to keep the dentures in place is powerful, and it takes me a few seconds before I can pry them loose.

Lester holds out his hand very matter-of-factly. “I’ll hold them for you.”

I give him my fake teeth, covered in spit. This is one of those moments when you find out who your friends are and who is only there for you when times are easy. Lester is not just a fair-weather friend. He’s a ride or die kind of guy.

“Come now, let’s get on with it,” he says, opening the door to the limousine.

I start to shift. It’s strange to think that this might be the last time I use my animal form in a practical way. Anne and I won’t be going on any more missions where I have to prove myself to a group of children who won’t trust me enough to let me rescue them. I won’t have to hide out in a cold forest, reliant on the heat of my fur coat to keep me warm. It seems fitting that the last person I try to save with my wolf form is Candlewick.

The next stage of my life will be all about him. At least I hope it will be.

My body shrinks, and my skin sprouts fur. My nose elongates into a snout that allows me to smell Candlewick even better. A tail extends past my tailbone, and my hands transform into paws with thick pads and claws.

Candlewick opens his eyes and a faint smile spreads across his face. “Oh, Manny. You’re beautiful.”

Pride radiates through me. I’ve never been that confident about my appearance as a human, but I like my wolf form. The color of my fur is a deep rust, now flecked with gray, and I have one white paw. My omega dad used to call me his little fox.

I lick Candlewick’s cheek. He reaches out to stroke the fur on the top of my head. He looks more lucid now than he has in a while.

“Climb into his lap, Manny. We need to move him now,” Lester says.

I do as he says, and we’re lifted onto the stretcher. Candlewick holds me tight, like I’m his pet dog. Sometimes the children I rescued would do that too. Holding an animal was more comforting to them than hugging a human.

The ride on the stretcher into the sanctuary is rickety, but Candlewick is far calmer now, and thankfully no longer laughing like a hyena. Ken is waiting for us at the gate and ushers us inside. Candlewick pets my fur the whole way to the medical wing where over a dozen omegas are waiting for us next to a hospital bed.

Half of them are obviously from the sanctuary, wearing clothing they got from the donation room. The other half are sporting fancy suits and passing around champagne flutes. The omegas from the sanctuary gawk at my wolf form as we’re rolled in, but Candlewick’s friends politely avert their eyes, and pour champagne for each other.

Bless them. They aren’t fair-weather friends either. Candlewick has some wonderful people in his life.

David and Lester get out the trinkets we brought with us from Dorian’s house, placing his pearls and the Clue pieces on the portable tray next to the hospital bed. I retreat under the blanket to shift back into my human form, hoping that will help Candlewick kickstart his heat again. It takes a matter of seconds before we’re set up in this new space, and waiting to see if it’s enough for Candlewick to feel safe.

An omega in the corner clinks a pen against his champagne flute to get everyone’s attention.

“We’re going to play a game called ‘Never Have I Ever,’” he says. The omegas from the sanctuary now have glasses too. I guess they’re going to introduce them to day drinking. Lovely.

“Oh, c’mon Lead Pipe, they will cream us at Never Have I Ever.”

Lead Pipe lifts his glass. “That’s part of the fun. The goal is to keep the game extra loud to give our friends here a little privacy, so after every turn we will clap. Once the champagne is gone, I have another game planned.”

“What kind of game?” The other guy asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? This is Wrench, by the way. He’s a bit of a sass. Which gives me a great idea for my turn. Never Have I Ever fucked a senator in a private jet.”

Wrench rolls his eyes and takes a sip. The group of omegas from the sanctuary clap, and the omegas in suits laugh.

“See? Isn’t this a fun game? Who wants to go next?” Lead Pipe asks.

A lone omega walks into the room. It’s Milo, his face still covered in bandages. The crowd goes silent as we all collectively feel the pull of his super thrall.

“Never have I ever, huh? Where’s my glass?” he asks.

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