63 Days Later Read online

  63 Days Later is a holiday Novella based off of the characters from WILD a full-length novel.

  This story is dedicated to all of those who loved

  August and Keegan from WILD so much you needed more of them.

  A special thank you to Lane McCulley

  for being an excellent beta reader.

  Copyright 2017 Adrienne Wilder. Art by Adrienne Wilder.

  No part of this story may be copied or reproduced, electronically, print, cave paintings, smoke signals, morse code, transmitted to other people, aliens, or pets.

  In other words, don’t be a douche canoe and respect a person’s work.

  The characters in this story are fiction and represent no one alive or dead. However they do represent persons in an alternate universe where the events of WILD took place. Any resemblance to your aunt, uncle, friend, neighbor, sister, brother, cousin (first, second, third, fourth, or removed), boss, friend’s relative, some weird guy you met who insisted on telling you their life story, is completely coincidental.

  Roughly eighteen months and 63 Days Later

  August leaned against the doorjamb while cradling a cup of coffee in his hands. In the short time he’d been in the kitchen, Keegan had already spread across the king-size bed, a toe at each corner, his arms under the pillow, and the sheets tossed to the edge.

  Sunlight fell across his thighs, the swell of his ass, and trickled away at the middle of his back, painting gold streaks onto his bronze skin.

  August would always savor these quiet moments. There’d been a time when no such peace existed. Where even in silence the fear of death was imminent.

  That was almost two years ago and over four thousand miles away in a world where magic came in the form of dancing lights in the sky, ice crystals in the air splitting the sun, and a hero wrapped in animal skins.

  Alaska was nothing more than a memory for August. But some nights it was still Keegan’s nightmare.

  Ten years out there in the bush, ten years he’d survived in a place no man should. A desolate countryside where winter swallowed the days and summer burned the skies. Everyday Keegan had lived there was written in jagged scars down his body. The worst on his hip where a grizzly had tried to kill him as a boy.

  Keegan sighed in his sleep and reached out smoothing his hand over the empty space under August’s pillow. He walked over and set his coffee cup on the bedside table. Keegan huffed and wrinkled his brow. August feathered his touch up Keegan’s arms.

  The first year they’d been back the simple act of August rolling over would have woken Keegan. But once his mind figured out he no longer needed to be hyper-vigilant of danger, he slept.

  And god when he slept he slept like the dead.

  Which could be entertaining, really.

  August moved to the end of the bed and traced a line up the bottom of Keegan’s foot. He pulled away. August rested a knee on the edge of the bed and eased himself between Keegan’s thighs. With one hand on either side of Keegan’s torso, August lowered himself until the tiny invisible hairs between Keegan’s shoulders tickled August’s lips.

  He blew a breath. Goose pimples raced up the back of Keegan’s neck. He grunted.

  August followed the valley of muscle edging Keegan’s spine, exhaling against his skin, stopping at the top of his crack. The downy hairs shimmered in the patch of sunlight sweeping over his back. August chased the bright patch with his tongue.

  Keegan moaned and rolled his hips. August returned his attention to the back of Keegan’s neck. One gentled kiss after the other he made a path to Keegan’s cheek.

  He opened his eyes. His gaze as fierce as any wild animal and at the same time overflowing with absolute adoration. “What are you doing?”

  “Waking you up.” August nuzzled the soft spot under Keegan’s ear. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Christmas isn’t until next week.” Keegan turned enough to put an arm around August and pull him down. He wound up on his back and pinned beside Keegan.

  August made a weak attempt to push Keegan off. “Yep, so you better be good, or Santa will leave coal in your stocking.”

  “According to you, I am good.” Keegan nipped August’s ear.

  A crackle of pleasure tickled its way to August’s balls. “Sucking dick doesn’t count.” He tilted his head giving Keegan access to his throat. Keegan nibbled a line down to August’s shoulder.

  “What about rimming?” Lower Keegan found a nipple and latched on.

  August gasped. “Mmm—nope sorry.”

  Keegan parted August’s robe and gripped his cock. “Hand jobs?”

  “Absolutely Nnn—”

  Keegan scraped his thumbnail over the slit.

  August jerked. “Fuck.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t quite hear you.” Lower, Keegan bit the edge of August’s navel.

  “Okay, now you’re cheating.”

  “Not yet I’m not.” Keegan took the head of August’s cock into his mouth. All that warmth, gentle suction, and how Keegan slid his tongue over the glans, had August hard in seconds. He moaned and dropped his head back on the pillow. Keegan took August to the back of his throat.

  The spiral of pleasure tightened in August’s gut and spread through his limbs. Fire and ice, it seared his muscles. He gripped Keegan by his hair. The dark brown locks made lazy curls over August’s fingers.

  Keegan smiled around August’s cock, and laughter danced in his eyes.

  “So good…” August undulated against the mattress.

  Keegan returned his attention to the end of August’s dick, sucking harder, bobbing his head, putting enough pressure with his tongue to squeeze. Bliss became euphoria.

  “Keegan…oh fuck…baby that’s—”

  He took August to the back of his throat again. The unbroken slide was the fuel, and the swallowing around August put the spark to the incendiary. Everything shattered. August twisted his hand in Keegan’s hair while thrusting his hips. Shockwave after shock-wave ripped through August and he shot down Keegan’s throat.

  The last wave receded leaving August flopped on the mattress. Stars danced in front of his eyes and his throat burned.

  Keegan moved up and pressed his lips to August’s. He opened as Keegan fed him the aftertaste of cum.

  “Mmm—breakfast of champions.”

  Keegan laughed. “Champions, huh?”

  “Champion cock suckers.”

  “Hey, that’s a not a very nice thing to say about the guy you love.” Keegan took August’s hand and kissed the spot on his finger right below the pale gold wedding band.

  “I meant it in a good way.” August ran his thumb over Keegan’s bottom lip to the line of his jaw. With his beard cut short to his skin, the angles of his rugged face were sharper. “Have I told you I love you today?”

  Keegan leaned closer. August inhaled his exhale.

  “I’m pretty sure somewhere between harder and faster you did.”

  August wrinkled his brow. “When did I say that?”

  “Somewhere between, one AM and three AM, but it might have been as late as four.”

  If they’d made love that long then no wonder August’s ass burned when he showered that morning. Keegan pushed his hands under August’s robe and around his body. His gentle touch turned into a slow massage of ten points of pressure digging into August’s muscle.

  August groaned. “Don’t stop.”

  Keegan chuckled and kissed August’s chest. “I’ll never stop.”

  “Good. Wait, no, not good, you have to stop sometime, or I’ll melt.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Keegan moved his hands lower, working the hip of August’s bad leg.

  “Only if you never want breakfast again.” August closed his eyes. “Or blowj
obs.” He petted the back of Keegan’s neck. “Or sex.”

  “The only thing I need is you.” The words were nothing more than a light breath against August’s ear but the weight of truth they held cinched his throat and squeezed his chest. Because Keegan truly believed what he said. And he’d proven it time and time again in that dangerous alien world north of Canada.

  August caressed Keegan’s jaw. The short hairs rasped against his fingertips.

  “Have you had breakfast yet?” Keegan continued to massage August’s ass and thighs.

  “I don’t think I could care less about food right now.” He smiled, and so did Keegan.

  “You need to eat.”

  “As long as I have your magic fingers I’ll never need to eat again.”

  “Want me to make waffles?” Keegan worked his hands higher.

  The muscles across August’s back liquefied. “With blueberries?”

  “Sure.”

  “Walnuts?”

  “I think there’s some left in the cabinet.”

  “Then more massages while I eat.”

  Keegan rolled away.

  “Awww—that was just getting good.”

  “C’mon let’s eat breakfast then I’ll let you open one of your presents.” Keegan got out of bed and held out his hand.

  *****

  The simple act of August sliding his fingers between Keegan’s grounded him to the here and now refusing to let his thoughts wander back to that desolate mountainside where he’d lived for far too long.

  Some mornings Keegan was sure escaping had been a dream. Some nights the nightmares convinced him nothing in his life now was real.

  Until that moment when August would do something as simple as wrap an arm around Keegan’s waist, kiss the back of his neck…

  Or hold his hand.

  August snagged Keegan’s boxers off the floor and handed them over. “Just in case Daisy tries to play tug-o-war. She’s been in a mood lately.”

  Keegan growled.

  August held up a hand. “She hasn’t done it since she was a puppy, but it would better to be safe than sorry.”

  “There’s enough of her now I could make two hats and probably a pair of boots.”

  “And what would you do with them? I can barely keep clothes on you.” August grazed a look over Keegan. “Not that I’m complaining, but you did scare the UPS man last week.”

  “He shouldn’t have been peeking in the windows.”

  “And the mail lady?”

  “It was July, and I was hot.”

  “You were taking out the garbage.”

  “Yeah, and that only takes two minutes. I wasn’t going to get dressed for two minutes in and out. We don’t have neighbors for ten miles.”

  August stepped in front of Keegan. “I think you’re just an exhibitionist.”

  Perhaps. Because the one thing Keegan loved about this climate was the warmth. Even in winter, thanks to modern amenities, he could go without wearing anything and never get chilled.

  “Speaking of your mangy wolf, where is she? Her usual layer of hair wasn’t spread all over your pillow this morning.” Normally when August got up, Daisy claimed his spot. As long as August wasn’t there to watch, Keegan would scratch her behind the ears. He owed Daisy everything. She’d saved more than just Keegan’s life, she saved his heart.

  “Probably outside chasing squirrels.” August headed into the living room.

  “I thought we agreed to keep the dog door locked at night.” Keegan had not enjoyed waking up to the family of skunks in the kitchen or trying to get them to vacate without getting sprayed.

  “Sorry. I thought I did. But thanks to you, I was a little distracted last night.”

  Keegan walked into the living room. White lights twinkled between the branches of the Christmas tree. The dog door leading out to the back deck was latched. “You sure you didn’t let her out?”

  “Positive.” August stopped beside Keegan. “You didn't forget to let her in did you?”

  “Of course not.” If Keegan had Daisy would have adamantly reminded him with a series of baleful howls.

  “Daisy?” August walked through the kitchen.

  Keegan made a lap around the living room. He checked behind the woodstove, the other side of the bookcase, between the large potted plants in the corner.

  Nothing.

  It wasn’t like the cabin was all that big.

  He made another circle, double checking even though there was no way he could have missed her.

  Where the hell could an almost hundred-pound wolf hide?

  A soft squeak came from the direction of the Christmas tree. The presents Keegan had stacked were pushed over.

  “I checked the laundry room and the guest bedroom.” Panic tinged August's voice. “Where could she have gone? And how could she have gotten out?”

  “I don't think she got out.” Keegan knelt by the tree.

  “What are you doing?”

  Green blotches stained the skirt wrapped around the stand.

  “Keegan?”

  “Shh—” Keegan moved a few of the boxes. Red stains followed the green. Keegan lowered himself to the floor. Daisy lay curled in a ball at the far side of the tree, against the wall, where the branches hung low creating a makeshift den.

  August got on his knees and peeked under the tree. “Daisy, what the hell?” He widened his eyes. “Is that blood?”

  “And meconium.”

  “What?”

  “Afterbirth.”

  August's confused expression fell. “What?”

  Keegan tugged at the tree skirt smoothing out the material where Daisy had bunched it around herself. Tucked against her side three tiny bodies with tawny-colored hair. “Take a look.”

  August crawled up beside Keegan.

  “Are those—”

  “Puppies.”

  “Daisy had puppies.” August crawled farther under the tree.

  “That might not be such a good idea—” It was a good way to lose a nose. But of course, Daisy didn’t even growl. As if she would ever growl at August for anything.

  He backed out with a puppy in his hands. The umbilical cord glistened. “Oh my god, she had babies.” And the tone of August's voice said everything Keegan feared. “I didn't even know she was pregnant.” August looked at Keegan. “Did you?”

  “No.” If he'd known she was in heat, he would have put her under lock and key and stood guard with a rifle to shoot any would-be suitors.

  “Wow, you sound absolutely thrilled.” August ducked back under the tree. “There's three of them. Do you think she'll have more?”

  “Not if we're lucky.”

  August sat up again, this time with one in each hand. He cradled them against his chest. “What's wrong with you?”

  Keegan stood. Daisy had scooted closer to the edge of the tree. Her baleful expression peered at him between the branches. “She had puppies.”

  “Yeah, puppies. You sound like she'd dug up a body or something.”

  “I wish she had dug up a body. That I could clean up. This...” Keegan shook his head. “Puppies.”

  Just what they didn't need. More Daisies to chew up underwear, cart in dead squirrels, and jump on the bed just when Keegan had fallen asleep.

  “Maybe we should call a vet?” August returned the two puppies to Daisy. She scooted around until they were buried in the curl of her body.

  “Why?”

  “She might need help.”

  “She's a wolf.”

  “So. What if one gets stuck?”

  “Wolves have been having puppies on their own for thousands of years.”

  “What if she's in pain? Do they have shots for that?”

  “August.”

  He had his cheek against the floor. “I hope there's more.”

  Fuck. Keegan dragged himself off the floor and went into the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get a drink.”

  “It's eight in the
morning?”

  Keegan found the decanter of scotch. He snagged a tumbler off the shelf and filled it.

  August appeared in the kitchen and snatched the glass away. “Why are you drinking?”

  “’Cause if she has more puppies I'm going to need it.” He took the glass back.

  August stole it again. “I need you sober, just in case.”

  “In case what?”

  “She needs help or something.”

  Keegan reclaimed the tumbler, and before August took it away again, he threw back the shot. His throat ignited and his eyes burned.

  Puppies.

  Goddamn puppies.

  Keegan poured himself another drink.

  *****

  August lay on his side between the valley walls made from Christmas presents. Pine needles tickled the back of his neck, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

  Not when looking at the pile of perfect wiggling babies Daisy had given him.

  Puppies. Eight puppies.

  Holy crap.

  Puppies.

  He stroked his finger along the back of the one closest to him. Dark hairs made a stripe down its back, and the edges faded into the chestnut brown coat. The muzzle, ears, and top of the head were also black. Over the eyes, there were two dots of gold.

  “What color do you think they'll be?”

  Keegan sat in the La-Z-Boy with his eyes closed. “Wolf color.”

  “Gray? Brown? Black?”

  Even broken up by the layers of tree branches, Keegan's glare was hot.

  He had to be the only person on earth who didn't smile at the sight of puppies.

  August returned his attention to Daisy. “I'm so proud of you.” He scratched her behind the ears. “And no matter what the grumpy old man says, he's proud of you too.”

  “No, I'm not.”

  August grinned at Daisy, and she panted.

  “I think she's hot. Maybe we should turn on the air conditioner.”

  “She's keeping the puppies warm.”

  “Oh.” August counted the toes on the middle pup. It tugged at the nipple it was attached to. “How do you think she got pregnant?”

  “That should be obvious August.”