Alphonse/Edmund: The one where they're furries

[ironysoul]

One hundred years in feline form, and now walking on two legs feels stilted. There was a knot between his shoulders that Al knew he could stretch out if he switched to fur. He could hunker down on his haunches and reach his front paws out far, sinking into a bow that would make every nodule of his spine pop. But while King Peter hadn't expressly banned fur, Al (and for that matter, the rest of the pride) still felt like it was something frowned upon now. Lesser, than their human form. At the very least that they should be grateful for it being restored.

He flexed paws (hands) and reminded himself again that his claws wouldn't unsheathe from the tips of his fingers. A hundred years in fur, and after almost a decade being able to change, he still felt wrong in this one.

At least, in the years since the age of winter, the pride had been restored to Cair Paravel. They'd served as stewards for generations, until Jadis had banished them. Not, Al was forced to admit, that he'd have been a particularly deft housekeeper with four paws. Maybe he could have dusted with his tail. The thought made him giggle.

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[just_edmund]

Lucy sighed and pushed her hair back from her forehead with one hand. "I wish you two could be happy. It's very sensible of you, of course. It will be easier in most ways. But I hate to see you both suffering so." Edmund's heart was ready to break. She wished she could tell Al that, but she couldn't break her brother's confidence. Even if she was at liberty to speak, it might only make Al's decision harder on him, if he was so sure this was for the best.

She looked more deeply into Al's face, studying his expression. "Your friendship meant a great deal to him. I've never seen him like this before. I can't say I'm not worried about him." The horses' hooves clopping filled the silence for a moment. Then, quietly, "You're going to miss him, aren't you?"

[ironysoul]

Whereas Al’s heart was already broken.

He wasn’t doing much to disguise the hurt and pain that crossed his face as Lucy spoke. Maybe she’d catch a glimpse there of how much Al loved her brother. He shouldn’t even think it, really, but what was the point now? The worst has already happened.

He loves Edmund and they’ll never be able to have what Al wants. Maybe Edmund is sad now, maybe he’ll miss him — but Lucy’s said the magic word. “Friends.” Edmund will be fine. He’ll move on soon enough.

“Yes, I will miss him very much,” Al says finally. He will. The more he thinks about leaving the more he suspects that it’s too late for him. He is bonded to Edmund. Maybe that means he’ll never find another mate, and maybe he’ll miss Edmund every day for the rest of his life. It only makes it more necessary that he go and not look back. The king of Narnia won’t feel this way.

“Your majesty, with all due respect, there’s a lot you brothers — all of you — still have to learn about what it means to be Narnian. Please don’t — push, on this, anymore. I’d only say something I’d regret.”

Stiff and formal from Al, and still tinged with grief.

[just_edmund]

Al felt as deeply about it as Edmund did, that was plain to see. Lucy felt a tinge of frustration for them both that they couldn't find a solution to this that didn't involve losing Al. Peter hadn't tried very hard...

A hurt look crossed her face at the stiff reproach. What hurt the most - Al implying she didn't know how to be Narnian. Just because she wanted her brother and her friend to be happy. Al thought his way was the only Narnian way; who'd died and made him Aslan?

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Al was hurt too, maybe he was angry. What he was saying wasn't necessarily true, or the whole truth. "Then think wisely, before you do something you'd regret," was all she said. She was reminding herself as much as him.

Al's words seemed to close the subject, and so she supposed she had better finish her commission and wash her hands of it. She didn't want to make things worse for Edmund. Lucy fumbled with her pack for a moment, then drew out the sealed letter. "Here. He wanted you to have this. And now my part in this is done." She handed it over, then gazed sadly at Al for a moment. "I'd have liked to have another brother." Especially one as fine as Al. But maybe it wasn't meant to be.

[ironysoul]

Another brother. As if Peter would have allowed it, even if Edmund had ever felt the same way —

No, Al reminded himself. No, it wasn’t fair to blame Peter for this. Or Edmund. Maybe he’d never been more than another conquest to the younger king, but that wasn’t wrong. Nothing Edmund had done was wrong for Edmund. It just — could never be right for Al.

“Thank you very much.” He said finally, accepting the letter. He didn’t know if he could ever bring himself to read it. It seemed like one more twist of the knife in a wound that would never heal. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t need to speak that harshly to her, after all. It might have been true — Lucy didn’t understand what she was asking Al to give up — but still.

“Would you tell him goodbye from me?”

[just_edmund]

It'd be better coming from Al. But it was better than nothing at all. She hadn't really expected he'd write something back...just for Edmund's sake, she'd held onto the tiny wish of it. "I will," she promised him. "And...I'll keep an eye on him. Aslan knows he needs it." Lucy offered a small conspiratorial grin. "He won't even know he's being looked after."

If she had to leave her love behind forever, she'd feel better knowing he was in good hands. Edmund would have his family. And Al would have his. It was a shame they had to be separate entities this way. Yet maybe it really was how they were meant to be, to find mates among their kind or lead in solitary devotion to their clan. Once more, Lucy sighed, then urged her horse into a gallop.

~*~

As the months passed, Edmund found his condition manageable. Nothing was as bad as that first heat. What remained was uncomfortable but bearable even on his own. He'd taken to semi-weekly jaunts in a one-man skiff, so that his absences would not seem odd. Hopefully no one would put the pieces of the puzzle together for at least a few months.

Worse was not being able to transform whenever and wherever he liked. The few times he'd dared it, he'd seen other Weres sniffing with confusion and knew his secret would not be safe in that form. Al would find it ironic, he thought wistfully. Me, being careful about turning. He wasn't truly an omega, but neither was he purely beta anymore. It was a state that few could respect, and so he kept it a guarded secret, and stayed human unless he was fully alone.

(Worst of all was the ache of Al's absence, the most carefully guarded secret of all.)

Then Kala came to Cair Paravel, a lone hunter from the north, lean and dappled with her kills, grinning as she spoke of her midnight runs and the kiss of leaves dancing under her paws, swimming in the icy waters that trickled down from the mountains. Even in her human form, she would toss her long dark hair back and smile at him over her shoulder, and nobody could mistake her for anything else but Panther.

Her lineage was proud. The Panthers rarely formed pack, and their numbers were few, but her grandmother's territory had been large and fearsome enough to earn a song or two passed down through the Great Winter. Edmund listened to the minstrels who conjured the songs in their guest's honor, and found himself wondering what Al would think of such renown heaped on a solitary hero.

Talk turned in the Great Hall to old times, of the old traditions of the great Kings and Queens of Narnia. Of festivals and tourneys and sport of all kinds, and the merriment that was enjoyed by all there. Merchants would come from many miles to sell their wares, and the local industries thrived from all the demand. The Pevensies had to agree, it sounded like a grand scheme, if they could pull it off. They signed the documents drawing up plans, expenses, provisions, and it was all set into motion.

And Al would find himself receiving certain mail urging him to return to Cair Paravel for this tournament, where his skill would be sorely needed.

[ironysoul]

It wasn’t the first letter Al had received. Only the first sanctioned one, bearing the crests of the Kong’s and queens of Narnia. Of course Ed and Winry wrote him often, newsy updates about Cair Paravel he never asked for. He was circumspect in his replies. There was plenty he didn’t want them to know, though they might read between the lines.

As he’d promised Peter, he found a pack to take him. A second Alpha was always a liability in a pack, and even his status as a member of the Cair Paravel pack wasn’t enough to lessen that. What made them accept him, grudgingly, was the undertone to his scent of a mated lion. And no mate at his side.

Overall they saw him as a pathetic creature. An alpha with no status, bonded but alone, and relegated him to the bottom of the pride structure. He hadn’t expected anything more. With Peter’s edict that the Cair Paravel pack couldn’t breed outside of their own, he’d known he’d never attain the status to be a threat. Any alpha would want to remind him, he couldn’t blame them.

Still, it stung that Peter, who had discarded him so readily, would welcome him back when it became convenient.

He left his pride with no small amount of ill will. The Alpha who led it understood that only a few were being invited to Cair Paravel for the tourney. Only those of surpassing skill and power. The reminder that Al ranked among them while he did not, that if Al chose he could easily overthrow their delicate balance, well. It was just one more thorn that was going to make things difficult, it seemed.

In all his letters he’d been careful not to ask about Edmund. But some slipped in. He heard of the panther presence increasing in the castle, and he heard plenty about who precisely was there. The panthers had been present often throughout the longest winter, stalking castle grounds that were lion territory by right. Jadis had confided in the creatures, using them as spies in the darkness, informing on animals all across Narnia. Searching always for traitors. For Aslan.

The lions had escaped subjugation, now. While Peter delighted in his new contacts, Ed made it clear that the pride was in simmering revolt. They wanted Al back, and the tourney provided the perfect excuse.

So he came, tracing footfalls through a familiar hall almost unthinking. He felt wrong in human form, moving through the castle again after so long. He itched for fur.

[just_edmund]

That night, Edmund came in smelling of forest, of wind in his hair, and, a little, of the dark-haired beauty who'd run beside him. She'd told him she didn't care if he smelled wrong; she could be alpha enough for both of them. It sat strangely with him, but it also felt good to stretch his legs, to arch his back and lash his tail and run. Kala made it possible. No stray alpha would dare attack them hunting together. Edmund was aware too of the significance of this custom, for one of the few times that Panthers hunted in pack was during courtship. There was nothing official, no documents of intent, just her flanks rubbing against him after they'd feasted, leaving her scent on him.

It was a chaste courtship by his usual standards. He should have long bedded her by now. Every time he considered it, his mind brought him back to that night in the tent with Al, and the smell of him so perfect that anything else seemed mere garbage by comparison. Until he felt that way about someone else, Edmund promised himself, he wouldn't take another to his bed.

And he did have to take someone else, eventually. Peter - the pride had such strict standards of mating, he might never marry. Susan and Lucy might have their discreet dalliances, and their declared suitors, but they would take their time, he knew, finding mates who were right for Narnia as well as to be their consort. It was Edmund's clear duty. To feel something for someone else besides a self-banished Lion who didn't want him.

He'd know that scent anywhere. He quickly shifted, dressing himself in the clothes he'd left by the stewards' entrance, and padded silently towards the source of it.

"Dusting vases?" was the quiet husk that split the silence, a faint smile on Edmund's face. Al.

[ironysoul]

Well. Al might take issue with some of Edmund’s interpretations, but that was neither here nor there. He stilled as he scented the person joining him. There was no forgetting that scent. Not after the last time he’d been close enough to Edmund to smell it.

Al considers, for a moment of insanity, just bolting. Edmund knows he’s here, it’s silly. But Al thought he was ready, he thought he could do this, and — he wasn’t. Maybe he’d never be ready to see Edmund again, if just he simplest words made his chest ache like this. Aslan.

He stood his ground — and wished almost instantly that he hadn’t. As Edmund grew closer, he caught the second scent intertwined with Edmund’s own and grew irrationally angry. She’d just rubbed herself all over him, hadn’t she? Still a hussy, then. And he —

He had no claim. He couldn’t say anything. Maybe she’d changed. Maybe she made him happy. He didn’t get a say. He swallowed hard, sterling himself as best he could.

“Hello, Edmund...”

[just_edmund]

Edmund's senses, so recently in their Panther form, were still keenly attuned. Al's body language went all stiff, and he seemed to be bracing himself just to speak. Ah. Not forgiven then.

Flashes from the letter of so many months ago returned to Edmund. How sorry he was to have hurt Al, who'd been nothing but kind and protective toward him. Al had done his duty, and Edmund could not stand in the way of what he felt was his duty now. How much Al's absence would be felt, and his admonitions taken to heart. How thankful he was to have known Al, and how he wished him joy in his new life.

He tried to keep his voice light as he replied. "We weren't expecting you for two or three days, or else more red carpet could have been rolled out for you. At the very least, a few feather dusters." He held out his hand for Al to take, to clasp in greeting. His heart twisted into several new knots at the sight of his - he didn't even know what term applied. Friend was inadequate; lover had never been true; infatuation made him sound fourteen again, and was just as inadequate as friend.

Al was just...beautiful. He was thinner than Edmund remembered; had he been eating well enough with his new pack? The Narnian King ran a hand through his already wind-mussed hair, pushing it back, and basked in Al's very nearness. "How are you? I've barely had any news of you, just whenever I can catch Winfry." Ed had not been overly disposed to be communicative to him, fancy that.

[ironysoul]

Forgiven? Perhaps. Al had never been angry with Edmund, at least not in the way he imagined. Terrified. Lonely and heartbroken. Even now he didn’t know if Edmund understood everything Al had given up. Being so far from his family and pledging never to start a family of his own... self-exile, he called it, but it wasn’t that. It was for the good of Narnia. The rest was imposed upon him, and he couldn’t say no.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take Edmund’s hand. He didn’t know if he could trust himself to let go once they were touching. But Edmund was so nervous.

“I didn’t expect any welcome,” he said softly. How could he explain that coming back was more home without any fanfare at all than his new pride? He didn’t want to make Edmund feel worse.

“I’m well. My pride has been very welcoming. I’m very grateful to them. How are you?” He forced the words around a tightness in his throat. He should probably let go of Edmund’s hand.

[just_edmund]

Edmund knew some of it. Knew that Al had been very close with his family, had had to leave his pride with them to join one where he would be an outsider. The particulars about not taking a mate were ones he wasn't privy to. The details he did know, made him most glad Al had returned at least for a little while.

Gladly, he curled his hand around Al's fingers. "Consider this your welcome party." He drew Al towards the kitchens, where surely something could be scrounged up for a late-night snack. Leading him there was as good an excuse as any to keep a hold of his hand. There was an electricity to the space between their skin, a heat that was palpable but not dangerous.

Tucked away in a snug bedchamber, on the other hand...

"Good. They are very lucky to have you. As are we, to have you in the tourney." I, to have you back.... Edmund smiled in spite of the giant's hand squeezing and clenching at his heart in his chest. "I am...much better than when we last met," he murmured, a little shyly. So different than the prowling young King who had pounced on the giggling Steward he'd found in a hallway not too far from this one. "Fresh air does me good. And we have made much progress with the Wolves and Panthers. Susan has been marvelous...and Kala has drawn many of my kindred to come back to our ranks."

[ironysoul]

Al has always been very bad at just saying no to Edmund. That, apparently, hasn’t changed, as what he meant to be a brief handshake had become a cozy hike to the kitchens. Al’s heart seized in his chest, and no matter how it hurt, he followed Edmund with a slight smile. “I really don’t— ”

Edmund was different. He was quieter. Still bossy — the fact that he was towing Al along to the kitchens spoke to that. But he was less of a know it all. Less strident. It didn’t seem like he thought he was more correct or smarter, anymore.

Which was good — but it unsettled Al. It didn’t seem so much like this new introspection was just from maturity. There was something off about it.

Then Ed said her name, and his heart — already pounding in his chest, froze. “Have you been spending a lot of time with her?” Al asked finally, withdrawing his hand from Edmund’s grip.

[just_edmund]

Mild protests are swept away in the thrill of Al's return-turned-celebration. Al might not see it as a cause for rejoicing, but Edmund was visibly rejoicing in his presence again, and he would let ceremony stand in the way, nor hubris or arguments about who was right or wrong.

He felt the absence of Al's touch immediately. Edmund glanced at him questioningly. "Well, yes. She is of my kind. Just as you have spent your time with yours." Wasn't that what Al had wanted for them? The Narnian King didn't know what was so wrong with seeking out a mate from his own 'pack'. Unless...

"Oh, I know what they say about us. That we're all traitors, Witch-kind. Do you believe that, Al? Do you think none of us Panthers can truly be Narnian?" His eyes were very big and very dark on Alphonse's golden, honest face.

[ironysoul]

Al’s gut twisted sharply at Edmund’s words. Trust him to turn this back around on Al. Yes, he wanted Edmund to choose a more appropriate mate, but Kala — well, Al remembered her from the age of winter.

Jadis had twisted and used many people. Edmund among them. They were to forgive and forge trust, but of all the people for Edmund to become enameled with... Aslan. How was he always so infuriating?

“That reputation wasn’t entirely unearned,” Al said softly. This was going to blow up, he already knew it. Edmund was going to get mad at him again, yell at him again, because he’d only lived the tail end of Jadis’s rule. He didn’t understand the scars the lions carried. And he would never forgive Al for remembering them, would he?

Edmund hadn’t said anything at all, but Al felt his throat closing as his eyes began to burn. He already knew how this would end. He shouldn’t have come back.

[just_edmund]

Al's murmur was more effective than if he'd shouted. Edmund stared at him, instantly feeling the weight of those words. Al had never spoken like this of his youthful indiscretions, the betrayal of a hurt and lonely boy. It was true...and he would never deny it...but for Al to confirm it...

He breathed in and out, stopping before the door to the kitchen. The hall was quiet and dark save for dim torchlight flickering overhead. Edmund turned and looked Al directly in the eyes, but he didn't yell. His voice, too, was quiet, almost intimate. "What do you mean?"

Was that why Al wouldn't have anything to do with him? Because he had once been a traitor? The Lions were a righteous set, but Al had seemed...different, somehow. The hurt of it shone in his dark gaze, naked.

[ironysoul]

Did Edmund think Al was talking about him? al’s Eyes widened, large golden saucers catching the light, and he drew in a sharp breath. Whatever spilled out of his mouth wasn’t likely to help his case, but he didn’t want Edmund thinking — he’d been a child! He’d been misled and lied to by an adult woman who’d manipulated him.

Kala had been young, yes. And certainly Jadis had twisted things to her own advantage, hurting everyone in the process. But she hadn’t been as young as Edmund, and she had been — gleeful.

“Edmund, I know you’ve heard — as much as anyone thrived under Jadis, the panthers did. She was cruel to them. To everyone. But they embraced her. Many of them.”

Yes, including Kala. Al had seen it.

[just_edmund]

Al's face, those shining golden eyes, told more than his words. Edmund, gazing into them so deeply, was suddenly soothed. The surprise was genuine and obvious on Al's honest features. In their light, the hurt flickering in Edmund's began to abate.

"Yes," he said, not trying to deny the accusations leveled against his kind. "So did the Wolves. And the Minotaurs. Even some of the Fauns and Trees. What did the Panthers do that was more unforgivable than the rest?"

He didn't speak defensively, as hard as he wanted to defend the woman who'd been so kind to him these past weeks. A twinge of guilt nagged at him, that he didn't stand up more fiercely for Kala, who had given him back so much. But...he needed to know. He counted Al's opinion more highly than perhaps Al even knew. And Al knew something, maybe something important. Edmund was willing to listen.

[ironysoul]

Unbidden, memories arose of panthers creeping from the darkness to maim or wound, seemingly at random. He remembered watching his words, always afraid of unseen eyes in the darkness. There was a feeling, even at Cair Paravel, that you were never safe. Friends disappearing, only to be found later in Jadis’s gardens. Black forms moving across the snow.

Even though he knew, he’d been there, At was hesitant to speak. What if he was wrong about Kala’s role, in particular? What if she hadn’t been involved, or what if she hadn’t been as complicit? Jadis lies, threatened, hurt as easily as breathing. Who was Al to say what she’d told the panthers? That they were worse than the wolves or Minotaurs? What if this was a test of Aslan’s?

“I think — I think you should ask Kala. And see if you’re satisfied with her answer.”

Edmund was whip-smart and suspicious. He’d know if he was being lied to.

At least — the old Edmund would. Al wasn’t sure about this newer version. He seemed almost meek.

Suddenly Al wanted very much to talk to Lucy or Susan, or evenWinry. He wasn’t sure what had happened to Edmund after he left — how much was his fault?

[just_edmund]

Edmund's instincts were right. Al knew more than he was willing to tell...and that knowledge could be critical. He watched the ghosts of memories shift across Al's face. Too painful to share? Or was he afraid Edmund wouldn't believe him?

Ask Kala. But he was asking Al. He parted his lips to say as much, when something made him question why Al would have singled her out for the tale. She knew something too. He had never pressed her for the details, assuming she was as repentant of that time as he was. Maybe...maybe now was the time to do so.

Slowly, Edmund nodded. "I will ask her. Though I am more curious to know what you remember."

He wouldn't push for it, only catch Al by the wrist and open the door to the kitchen. "Come, let's get you some dinner."

It was warm and cozy in the dark, deserted kitchen, a fire banked on the hearth, and plenty of goodies covered with cloths, wrapped in paper, or buried in the ice chest. Edmund scrounged up some cold pieces of roast chicken and broccoli, bread baked fresh that night, and thick slices of buttery cheese, with ripe pears and candied walnuts for dessert. They perched on the butcher block table in the kitchen and dug in to their impromptu feast. Good company, Edmund reflected with satisfaction, was the best sauce.

[ironysoul]

He’d singled her out because she’d been involved. He’d singled her out because she was courting
Edmund — shouldn’t he want to hear it from her? Why would Al’s opinion matter more? Ed had trusted him, as his steward, but he’d laughed off any romantic warnings. And Al was hesitant to get pulled back in. He couldn’t keep carving his heart open this way.

He shouldn’t even stay longer. But Edmund wasn’t taking no as his answer, towing Al into the kitchen and piling foood on him. It all looked so good. Much better than what Al was allowed in the pride. Did Edmund know? Was he trying to sneak Al extras, or — did he want to remind Al of what he’d left? What he could have had? Edmund wasn’t that cruel, was he?

As a result, Al only nibbled nervously at the edges of his meal. How often had they sat like this, when he was Edmund’s steward? He ate mostly alone now, and until this moment, he hadn’t understood how lonely it was.

[just_edmund]

Edmund wasn't easy enough with their situation to quite laugh off any romantic warnings from Al. But he was determined to take proper care of him while he was still under Cair Paravel's roof, especially if his pride had been neglecting him. There was no thought of rubbing in Al's face of what he had turned away from. Panther he might be, but Edmund was not capable of such vindictiveness.

He kept urging Al to eat more. "I know what you can put away," Edmund teased him. "I've seen you do it." It was almost like old times. His cheeks glowed pink with the inherent pleasure at being next to - not *his* alpha, but the alpha who made him feel as if everything would be well.

"Besides, you must be in tiptop shape for the tournament in a few days if you're to do us credit. The Lion's share and all." The expression in his eyes, peeking up at Al through thick lashes, was almost adoring. His body was tipped unconsciously toward the breadth of Al's, as if it couldn't help supplicating.

[ironysoul]

“Are the panthers not competing?” Surely Edmund would support his own men above any others. Surely —

There was something deeply wrong with Edmund’s posture. Al knew what omegas looked like, and their was an easiness to them that Edmund lacked entirely. This was very... cultivated. It was nothing like the king Al remembered. He had been a beta, but he’d worn his royalty like an Alpha,

“Have you been okay? Really?” He remembered what it was like the night they separated. Edmund was clearly adjusting to whatever the bite had made him. Would it have been easier if Al had been his Alpha then? Maybe Edmund might have transitioned entirely, instead of being this. Whatever this was.

[just_edmund]

"A few. Mostly in the Were rounds. But my heart cheers for you."

Al was staring at him. Edmund was just glad he wasn't running away. He'd missed their friendship dearly, quite apart from the ache of wanting him, and this - this was like a balm to his spirit. He smiled with what he hoped was reassurance at the alpha.

"Of course. Never better. Look..." He drew away the collar of his tunic to show Al the place on his neck where he'd been bitten. Only two faint white circles, tiny against the pale freckled skin, showed any trace of the attack. He arched his neck for inspection. Another submissive gesture. "Lucy's cordial made sure any of the poison was fully drawn out. And I haven't had anything as bad as - that night." Edmund flushed, but soldiered on. "Few know. Just us, my family...Kala knows something is different, since I run with her, but I've never told her everything." Although if she asked him too...it would be hard to deny her.

[ironysoul]

Al hesitated, visibly shaken at the obvious show of submission. Edmund just bared his throat like that, exposing not only the bite, but his scent glans and pulse. Any alpha would be tempted to take full advantage. Even Al, whose dominant tendencies were largely in check, was tempted to push in and mark him. Welcome or not.

Forcing his breath to steady, Al shook his head. “No. No, I meant — are you okay? You’re very different.”

Probably he shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. Edmund had so much pride. Or the Edmund he used to know had. Even that night after the incident, Edmund had been defiant. Nothing like this.

“You’re not acting like yourself.” He’d already said it. Might as well commit now. Had the bite done this? Or was it something else? If Kala had groomed this behavior from him, what else had she done?

[just_edmund]

The pride was still there. The red filling Edmund's cheeks wasn't just the memories of that night. Embarrassment, awareness of his weakness around Al - or any alpha who piqued his interest, but it was the most obvious with Al - and yes, mortified pride made him run hot all over. He was above throwing himself at Al, even with these small ways. But this was his nature now, and if he didn't manifest it in private with those he trusted most, he would only make a fool of himself in a public spectacle, sooner or later. Kala had implied as much, in more subtle wording.

He touched the back of Al's hand. "I'm fine, Al. Really." Edmund exhaled, gathering his courage. "You're right. Things haven't been the same since that night. It's like - a part of me isn't complete. I've been able to control my urges, but I - I need an alpha. Sooner or later, or nature will run its course, I fear."

He seemed - if not resigned to his fate, reconciled to the practicality of it. He couldn't change who he was now, and he couldn't outrun his own nature. He peeked at Al as if afraid the alpha would begin to upbraid him on how he had failed in this too.