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Demon Bonded: Coven Saga S3


Ky watched his mother follow after Liem and Stewart to see them out. In his mind he was running through everything that happened the moment he felt the wards were breeched. Did Stewart really want to help? He hadn’t attacked, hadn’t really looked twice at Feral and Lovely outside of acknowledging the threat the two possessed. He hadn’t made a move to hurt his family, not even a threat.

Had he threatened anyone? Having him in his house sure felt like a threat. Stewart had to know that. Liem sure as fuck knew better after the last time he was there.

Ky wasn’t sure if he was relieved or pissed Liem totally lied his ass off. Probably to save his own skin. The Aeternum might not give a fuck about how many bodies of Relics piled up but it would be different for their own. The fucked up hypocrites came around collecting wands to remember their sorcerers by. They probably didn’t look kindly on their murder.

Was this just some complicated scheme to get the wand and Tobias’s relics? What was this Aeternum really like? If he stepped into the place would they do some crazy magic to make him give up the wand? Or did he have to fear leaving it at home and having someone steal it while he was there? Did he even have an option? They said they’d collect him if he didn’t show.

He knew nothing about sorcerers beyond the fact they had enough magic to capture beings with more power than Ky could ever hope to match. His eyes flickered down to where the black business card was on the hardwood floor. Marcus moved behind him and before Ky could question it, he quickly swooped down and picked the card up.

“I want an explanation.”

Marcus’s stare was a heavy weight on Ky’s back. He didn’t have to look to know his father was furious. Ky tucked the card in his pocket and turned to face him, refusing to flinch at the glare fixed on him. “What?” he asked flatly. He knew he was being a dick. Given the way his father’s eyes narrowed, it wasn’t lost on him.

“We need to talk.”

Ky wasn’t sure they did. There was very little he wanted to say to his father that didn’t involve swearing and possibly throwing things. Marcus let a sorcerer and stupid Liem walk into their house and all he wanted to do was give him shit for having a wand. Ky could tell the way he kept looking at his hands, like he was furious and terrified all at once by the instruments. Ky slowly tucked them away in his jeans and Marcus’s expression lightened a little.

“Sit,” Marcus growled and pointed to the living room where the worn couch they brought from their old place was. Ky didn’t budge. Just what the fuck was Marcus expecting? He wouldn’t even admit magic existed. If his father really didn’t believe in magic, he wouldn’t be so fucking afraid of it all the time, would he?

As he stared his father down defiantly, something snapped in Ky. He didn’t want to do this. He rushed downstairs to make sure his parents were okay, that they weren’t being attacked by an overseer like Demencious or worse, a sorcerer like Tobias. He didn’t want to fight with his father. Marcus was never going to believe him or even understand, but it didn’t mean he wanted to spend the rest of his life feeling like his parents hated him.

Ky sighed and walked stiffly into the living room. He watched his father follow him like he was waiting for him to make a run for it. Ky refused to sit and he saw the irritation from the simple lack of compliance flash on Marcus’s face.

Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. “You call the next time you’re going to be out so late. You text us. Something.”

It was about the most normal thing he could have expected from his father and Ky found himself blinking rapidly from the shock of it. “Okay.”

“Your mother and I were really worried about you,” Marcus continued, his brows knit tight together. “We called the school and they said you skipped out of class. That’s not like you.”

Ky gaped at his father. Had Marcus not been there for the last ten minutes? He was just going to treat him like he was some simple teenager who skipped class?

“What’s going on with you? Are you being bullied or something?”

Ky rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the question. He just helped kill a man and his dad was going to ask that? “Like you really care? I tried to tell you…” Marcus shook his head in warning and Ky fell silent. He huffed and his shoulders slumped. “Whatever, dad. What’s the point if you don’t want to listen?”

Livia walked in, her expression full of worried as she locked in on Ky. “What was Mr. Moore talking about? Why would you have something that belongs to this Mr. Godwin?” She tried to look calm as she added hesitantly, “Is this a father of a friend?”

Marcus grunted and gave him a look Ky refused to heed. “No, mom, Tobias wasn’t a father of a friend. I don’t actually have any friends around here. If I did, they wouldn’t have anything to do with someone like him.”

Livia bit her lip. “Okay, but you have something of his. Are you… are you dating?” At Ky’s baffled expression, she added hastily, “I don’t care how old he is. I understand how…”

“Dear fuck, mom. Give me some fucking credit for taste.” Ky scowled and raked fingers through his bangs. “The guy’s an asshole, for one. Dead, too. And for real, even if he wasn’t any of that, I’d never date a sorcerer, the arrogant asses.”

“I don’t understand, then. Why were you in some man’s house last night? A dead man’s house. Who is this Mr. Moore and why does he seem to think you have something that belongs to this Tobias Godwin?” Livia sighed and stood beside Marcus. “I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt here, Ky. We’ve been so overwhelmed trying to get this business off the ground; I know I haven’t really had a chance to talk to you in a while. We’ve got half an hour before we need to get across town to Greenly Park. The attic is in shambles, you’re missing classes; I just want to understand.”

A war waged in Ky. There were so many things his mother would love about the relics. She’d be amazed to know magic existed. Or she might freak the fuck out. There were so many things that could kill her; his parents were beyond ignorant as to all the dangers living with relics brought.

Maybe, just maybe, he wanted an ally who would understand how weird this all was. It was selfish, but fuck, was he expected to do this all on his own? Ky pulled Tobias’s wand from his pocket.

“No!” Marcus shouted, his face red.

Ky could see the terror in his eyes behind his glasses. For some reason, it just pissed him off more. His dad wasn’t a child but his fear for something he didn’t understand was making him act like one. It was bullshit.

Ky held the wand up to Livia. “Mom, this belongs to Tobias Godwin. I took it from his house because he’s dead and it’s the only way to get into the building.”

Livia glanced at Marcus’s angry face before stepping forward and staring at the instrument made of polished wood topped with a crystal. Her hand twitched out to touch it and she immediately drew back, like afraid it might cut her. “What is it? It looks expensive.”

Ky didn’t have a clue. He doubted the stones were actually valuable; the real worth was the magic it could channel. “It’s a wand,” he explained over his father’s growl. “It helps sorcerers focus magic. Think of it like a big key to a sorcerer’s house. Without it, strangers can’t get in.”

“I see.” Livia looked skeptical as she stared at the wicked looking instrument. She wasn’t calling him a liar, not to his face, at least, and Ky took it as a good sign.

“I have a wand, too. Anselm’s old wand. He was a…”

Marcus snapped at the threat of his father’s wand also being in the room. He stood taller, his voice hard and unyielding. “Ky, I want you to stop this now. Give me the wands and go to your room.”

Ky stilled, his face hidden by his hair. “You know I’m not going to give you my wands, dad. Would Anselm have ever handed his wand over? No. The only reason he gave it up was because he was killed.” When Ky met his father’s gaze, again he could see his fear. “You had to have known that too, right? Anselm wasn’t going to die unless something worse than him came along and killed him. You don’t grow up with a sorcerer for a father and not know what the fuck he is.”

“Stop,” Marcus bit out, his jaw tense and the muscles of his neck tight. “Just stop this.”

Ky shook his head. “You lived with thirty of them,” he growled in exasperation. “There were thirty demons in this house. Your sister saw them. You had to know, invisible or not. Cats don’t live that fucking long, dad!”

“Charlotte seeing things doesn’t mean anything,” Marcus said stubbornly.

“You’re so full of shit. Tobias Godwin is dead and I’m not going to let anyone else hurt his demons. Just because you’re afraid doesn’t mean you’re right. You don’t understand. You don’t want to understand, and you’re the last person I’d take advice from about it.”

“Ky!” Livia’s eyes were wide with shock. “This has gone on long enough. We need to talk about what happened the night of the wedding. You haven’t been the same since, and I know I heard voices. Who was in this house?”

Ky tore his gaze from Marcus’s glare and smiled grimly at his mother. “You can try, but I don’t think dad’s going to let you. He’d rather lie to himself and his family than face the truth right in front of him.”

“Enough.” Marcus clenched his hands into fists. “I want both of those wands by the end of the night, Ky. I’m done with this magic nonsense and I won’t have it in this house anymore. You will not fight me on this.” He looked like he was going to say something else, his troubled eyes fixed on the wand in Ky’s hand. For a moment Ky wondered if his father would actually try to take it from him. Marcus’s fear was still greater than his anger. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the living room, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood. Moments later, the front door slammed when he left.

Livia stared at the empty living room doorway in disbelief. She turned back to Ky with narrowed eyes. “What is going on?”

Ky fumed. Marcus had to know. He had to know everything. There were all those books and all the instruments hidden in the attic and he had that ridiculous fear of magic. He had to know and he was being a bullheaded idiot by pretending it wasn’t real.


Ky exhaled sharply and focused on his mother. “Anselm was a sorcerer. That guy who showed up and that obnoxious kid? They’re both sorcerers, too. They’re dangerous people, mom, and you don’t want to let them in the house. You don’t want to be around them at all.”

Livia blinked slowly and her gaze drifted down to the wand in Ky’s hand. “And you? Are you a sorcerer?”

Ky snorted humorlessly. “No. I’m the fucking idiot who let a bunch of demons posses me.” Something Marcus could have prevented if he’d just been truthful from the fucking start, if he just acted like an adult and faced the mess Anselm left. Feeling beyond bitter, Ky whirled on his heel and headed for the stairs and his room, deaf to his mother’s calls.

Livia stared after Ky’s retreating back, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry. After a moment she headed for the kitchen and grabbed her phone from where it was charging. She went through her contacts, only to pause and stare at a name for a moment. Her expression turned determined and she pressed the call button.

“Charlotte? Do you have a moment to talk? It’s about your father, Anselm.”

Sorcerer Slayer S32


Raider was very still as he sat in the lounge full of shifters and sorcerers. He was on a large couch next to Forest, with Fox and Dante on the other side of the leopard shifter, the television before them. He couldn’t tell if he was more freaked by seeing everyone in half shift, or a little relieved. Yes, having their animal characteristics out all the time made it impossible for the shifters to pass as just human, but it also made them look extra intimidating. Some were kind of cute with their tufts of fur and flicking ears if you ignored the claws and fangs. Raider at least felt a little safer knowing he wasn’t the only one who was going to be teased.

This was his first time out of his room since he locked himself away a few days ago. Sure, he ran out for food a few times, but only when the lounge was completely empty. Even then, his heart pounded so loud in his ears, he wasn’t sure he was going to survive the stress of it. This evening he was trying no matter how many fangs, scales, and tails caught his eyes. He was trying to piece together just what Fox meant.

He’d been alone the last days. Forest barely came by for much but a change of clothes or notebooks and he was glad for it. Sort of. Fox didn’t visit at all. Raider was left alone with his raccoon who was unbearable to the point leaving his room felt like death. He couldn’t go on like this. He needed his friend.

He needed Fox.

There was no way he’d survive on the other side of the gate without Fox. Fox was right about it all; he didn’t have a clue what people thought of him. He had no idea how to talk to people or make friends. He never knew. His father was such a fuck-up, Raider did everything to avoid the taunts and teasing the other kids directed at him. Anyone who ever got close would eventually learn who his father was. The town drunk. The town thief. Raider would never see them again after. Or worse, he saw them every day but they pretended he wasn’t there.

Fox was different. Fox sought him out. Fox chose to be his friend. If Fox didn’t want to be his friend, he had no idea how to fix it.

The only reason he was in the lounge now was to figure out how to get Fox to talk to him. Which meant learning how to be around his new pack. Being alone in his room was boring, even if his raccoon found fear in every footstep on the other side of the door. Raider waited until dinner time in the hopes he could listen to the others talk and see if he could jump into the conversation. He needed them to know even though they scared the fuck out of his raccoon, he really didn’t think they were monsters. Not really.

Raider glanced to the side where Forest’s black panther ears twitched on the top of his head. His skin was pure black since the Mutati flu transformed him and it made his yellow eyes nearly glow in otherworldly contrast. Raider quickly fixed his eyes on the television. They weren’t monsters but they were still really fucking scary.

The thing was, it was kind of hard to hold onto his terror when Dorian Black sounded ready to cream his pants.

Raider still wasn’t sure just what the fuck was wrong with Wylie Doe. The guy freaked him out on a totally different level than the others. His black, rainbow slick scales and wicked horns weren’t helping with his regard of the dragon shifter. His sex scent messed him up like the felines’ heat did, but different. Maybe it was the alpha thing… but dragon alpha. Raider couldn’t identify it. When Wylie looked his way, he knew he saw him. It was unsettling as fuck.

Not that Wylie was looking at him right now. No, his attention was completely focused on Dorian, who was trying not to moan from his perch on top of his boyfriend’s lap. Everyone’s attention was on Dorian, although the others in the lounge were far more subtle from their seats across the room.

“Ten minutes, tops,” Forest muttered. His eyes were glued on the television screen where an action movie was flashing but no one was actually watching.

“No way.” Fox ducked his head sideways and pitched his voice low enough so only a shifter’s ear could catch. “Black will never let him. I’m telling you, you’re throwing your money away.”

“Like fuck.” Justin, who was standing behind them, covered his mouth with his hand. He pulled it away to grin sheepishly at his friends. With a glance behind him, he leaned over the couch to whisper to the group of shifters facing the television. “He’s totally going to blow him.”

Raider broke down into a fit of ragged coughs. Sorcerer or not, Dorian Black was hot. Really hot. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle the guy taking his pants off in the fucking lounge.

“Bastard.” Forest hunched forward in his seat and his hands tangled fitfully in his dark hair. “This is fucking torture.” Leo gave an annoyed growl from his chair in agreement. He was sitting next to the large couch, his body tense even as his ears swiveled.

“Why is he… you know?” Raider dared to ask under his breath. “They do it all the time.”

Justin leaned Raider’s way. He did his best not to tense when the werewolf’s hair teased at his twitching ear. “Wy’s dragon has this thing for claiming his mate. Publicly,” Justin disclosed, breath tickling at his cheek. “We have a bet since they started dating for how long it will take for Dorian to crack. Wylie’s getting better at using his allure but Dorian is really powerful.”

Raider nodded blankly. His lower lip caught between his lip when the distinct sound of Dorian gasping reached him. Having it in the same room was way worse. Having that scent and the actual sounds to the point he could hear them breathing, fingers moving over flesh was fucking maddening.

“Trust me, Dorian has no interest in the dragon’s kink,” Fox said flatly, his gaze straying to the lounge door. “It’s never going to happen.”

Forest snarled under his breath. “I don’t care if it ever fucking happens. I just need to have five fucking seconds without thinking of sex. I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Raider watched the leopard shifter out of the corner of his eye, hyper aware of how Forest kept looking at him since he sat down. At first he thought it was out of some pent up anger because the guy hadn’t slept in his own bed for the last two days. Now he was getting the distinct impression Forest might be back to wanting him if only because of the strong sex scent coming his way.

“You like that, Ri?” Wylie’s voice was a low hiss, something Raider was both scared of and confusingly attracted to. In half shift, Wylie seemed more dragon than man, even if dragon shifters never actually turned into full dragons.

“D, eyes front.” Fox gave a light tap to Dante’s head.

“Why? They’re just making out.” Dante ducked around his arm to look at Wylie and Dorian. He shrugged and leaned back next to Fox on the couch. “It’s all they do. It’s so boring.”

“It’s definitely getting fucking old,” Forest muttered darkly.

Raider barely heard them, his ears turned to catch the sounds behind him. Whatever the two were doing was far more interesting than the television.

“Wylie… Wy,” Dorian mumbled between gasps for air.

“It’s good, right?”

“Wy… I will break your fucking fingers off.”

Justin gave a dejected sigh that almost blocked out Fox’s snort. “Told you,” Fox said smugly.

Wylie didn’t seem convinced. “Come on, Ri. You’re so fucking hard. Just a little, baby.”

Raider buried further into his seat when Dorian moaned in reply. “Fuck… fuck, Wy…”

“Damn it, I hate them,” Forest growled. His claws extended and slashed into the couch when Dorian released another needy whimper.

Raider was having a hard time thinking. The scent in the room was changing quickly. The air brimmed with unfulfilled sexual tension. It was like a current of electricity threatening to spark at any moment.

“Room. I’m serious, you perv,” Dorian murmured a little more determinedly.

“I want you.”

“And it is very easy to have me if we just take this to a room. Now get your hands out of my pants.”

“Ri, please.” Wylie’s hiss was beyond compelling, filled with allure, and had Raider dizzy without even having to see him.

Forest’s next growl was strained and Raider considered edging to the far side of the couch. Except, he had this growing concern if he moved at all, it would definitely draw Forest’s attention.

“I’m not a dragon.” Dorian’s words were muffled by Wylie’s lips. “I’m never going to be a dragon.”

“You’re my mate.” Wylie’s voice was breathless and from the wet sounds of kissing, it seemed Dorian was gaining the upper hand.

“I’m not going to do all those dragon things you keep expecting. I’m your mate but I’m not a dragon.”

“I don’t mind. You’re perfect, Ri. Really… really…”

“Fuck. Oh… wait.” Dorian’s husky moan was followed by the sound of fabric tearing. It took everything in Raider not to turn and see just whose clothing was being ripped off. Probably Wylie’s. He still had a tail and wings. Given the new scent flooding the room, he was going full dragon to try and win this strange battle between lovers.

Raider squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take a calming breath. It only filled his senses with more of the aggressive dragon mating scent. It was like he was feverish again, but this time the fever was in the air and there was no escape from the thrumming in his body. Forest was right next to him; he could practically taste his lips from the time they kissed. It would be nothing to rub up against him, let him take his clothes off…

Raider stood abruptly. “Fox, can I, uh, talk to you for a sec?”

Fox glanced his way, only to shrug and deliberately stare at the TV. “Busy, man.”

Damn it. The rejection was clear. Raider didn’t know how to tell his friend he really needed to get the fuck out of there but he couldn’t go alone. The Academy was too big, too dangerous, and filled with deadly shifters and sorcerers. Just, this very room was so much worse than all the others at the moment and Raider was terrified if he stayed another minute, he was going to do something stupid.

Really stupid.

With unsteady legs, he stepped forward. He didn’t know where he was going but he couldn’t stay. Not with those sounds. Not with that fucking scent of need. There was no way he’d be able to go near Wylie and Dorian to get to his dorm. Raider headed for the exit to the lounge. He stumbled midstep when his eyes met Leo’s. The lion shifter had an intensity to his gaze that made his cheeks heat up and body pulse hotter. His knees wobbled and his breath left him in a rush.

He wasn’t thinking that. He wasn’t. It was just the damn scent.

Raider shook his head and forced his feet forward. When he reached the door, he kept walking. As he escaped down the hall he tried to breathe in some fresh, sex free air so his mind could clear.

Teddy’s Naughty Adventures 8


Granny Emma was waiting for Teddy in the kitchen with a sandwich and glass of milk. He handed her the envelope Mr. Fowler had given to him than quickly pounced on the plate of food after washing his hands, his stomach giving a demanding rumble. It was much cooler in the house, but Teddy was still sticky and feeling kind of gross.

“Were you polite?” Granny Emma asked while rifling through the envelope. “Respectful? Did you do everything Mr. Fowler asked?”

Teddy nodded. “He said he wants to come by next week to play… Um, and do the lawn. He’s going to be planting some roses in the backyard.”

“Oh, I love roses.” Humming to herself, the elderly woman tucked the money away into her housecoat. Teddy watched her out of the corner of her eyes, wondering just why it seemed everyone was paying his Granny to work for her. Maybe people in the town understood just how old and in need of help Granny Emma was and they were just so generous that they gave her money. Teddy had never lived in such a place but was glad to find out there were just so many good people in his new house of his.

“Don’t forget to clean up, boy,” Granny Emma reminded as she slowly made her way towards the hallway that led to the living room she spent most of her time in. “You’re all dusty from the yard.”

“Kay, Granny,” he answered quickly, shoving the last of his sandwich into his mouth and jumping up to wash his plate.

The kitchen was still littered with pots and pans, and Teddy could see the oven was on, possibly a cake already being baked inside. He had never had a birthday cake for himself but his spirits were up to know Granny Emma would make a cake for a boy that just lived in the neighborhood. Maybe when his birthday came around, she’d make one for him too. He quickly put all the pots and pans away, then ran a wet sponge over the counter tops and tables to get the remnants of flour his poor sighted Granny had missed. His sneaker slipped on his next step and he stopped with a gasp, finding that he was dripping all of Mr. Fowler’s seed down his leg and getting it onto the floor.

Flushing, he quickly wiped it up, his cheeks heating up. He didn’t quite know why, but the idea of his Granny finding out what he had done with the handsome man made him certain she’d be angry. He stepped tentative down the hallway, peeking in to the living room where the old woman was sitting. She was at her desk for a change, writing something in a ledger while a soap opera buzzed in the background.

“Granny, if you need me I’m just going to be upstairs getting cleaned up.”

Emma didn’t bother to turn, her head shaking slightly as she nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. After that you can help me frost the cake.”

Teddy’s eyes widened at the thought. The doorbell gave a sudden ring and he turned towards the front door, suddenly feeling nervous. “Granny, should I…?”

“Hurry up, before they think no one is home,” Emma called. Her eyesight might have been bad but the woman’s hearing was fine enough. She smiled to herself as Teddy dashed down the hall, her grandson quick to comply.

With wide eyes, Teddy stopped in front of the front door, trying to ignore how wet his thighs were and the way they were itching. He peeked out the small window, fumbling with the door handle when he saw who it was. It was the boy from the picture, the photo he had hidden in his room.

“Hi,” Teddy said breathlessly once he got the door open, staring at the boy. The blond was taller than him, but everyone was taller than Teddy. His eyes were a bright green and so pretty, his skin golden like his hair, lips pink and plump. Teddy couldn’t stop staring, feeling very shy when he found he was being stared back at as well. “Uh, I’m Teddy,” he added in a whisper, holding the door tight and using it like a shield as he peered at the boy.

“Hi, Teddy. My name’s Lief.” The blond smiled hesitantly, edging closer to where the short brunette was standing. “I have some clothes for you.” The boy held a big black plastic bag up, placing it back on the porch carefully.

Teddy nodded mutely, glancing down at the bag for a moment, then back at the boy. Lief was too beautiful for words and it just made him feel terribly shy even though he was jumping inside to have an entire bag of clothes to wear now.

“Um, I hope you don’t mind that they’re all hand me downs,” Lief added when Teddy refused to speak. “They’re all clothes I used to fit into but don’t anymore. But they’re really clean and… Uh, yeah.” He trailed off, shoving his hands into his short pockets. Lief was dressed strangely to how Teddy was used to seeing boys his age dress, the blond’s shorts very tight and short and his shirt clinging to him like a second skin. Used to wearing clothes much too big for him, Teddy wondered if his Aunt Jenny just hadn’t known hot to properly dress because Lief looked very nice in his red and black outfit.

“Do you live around here?” Teddy finally found his voice again, pulling his eyes away from the boy’s nice black sneakers.

Nodding, Lief stepped closer to hear the short boy. “Yeah, right over there.” He pointed to the big house next door, Teddy turning his head to look. It was the one that looked into the backyard, the house looking so much more taken care of than his Granny’s. Teddy was suddenly very aware of just how close Lief was standing, the blond willowy and sweet smelling, his green eyes skittering over the brunette only to look away just as quickly. “Emma sometimes watches me when my dad goes out of town for business trips,” Lief disclosed softly. “She’s nice enough. Always thanks me when I help her around the house.”

“What about your mom?” Teddy asked, daring a peek at the blond. “Why doesn’t she watch you?”

Lief shrugged awkwardly, scuffing his shoe on the porch. “She died a long time ago. It’s just me and my dad now.”

“Oh.” Realizing it was probably a sore subject for the boy, Teddy added after a moment. “Both my parents are dead. But I like Granny Emma. I’m hoping I’ll get to live here for a long time.”

Lief nodded silently, absorbing the information with a serious expression. “So… You like it here?” He asked after a moment.

“Yeah. I get my own room. And clothes. And Granny hasn’t hit me at all…” He glanced over awkwardly. “I don’t think she’d be fast enough, even if she wanted to.”

“Emma doesn’t hit,” Lief assured the brunette. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her yell. But she can be really stern. She’s gotten really tough with, um, well, my dad at times.” His expression growing stormy, Lief finished a little distantly, “She’s a nice lady. You’re really lucky to have her for your grandma.”

Looking up at the boy in concern, Teddy silently agreed. Granny Emma had been great so far. Probably the nicest out of any relative he’d lived with and it was only the second day. “Do you go to the school?” He asked, wondering if Lief had any stories of the place. He was excited about going to school but also really nervous that he’d be the stupid one in the group. He really hadn’t had a day of learning in his entire life.

“Yeah, the place down the street. It’s okay.”

“I’ve never been to school,” Teddy admitted hesitantly, glancing over to see if the boy would laugh. Lief didn’t, the blond’s gaze more intent on a streak of dirt on Teddy’s chin.

“I think you’ll like it. Just don’t get Mr. Howard upset,” Lief warned. “He uses the ruler if you talk back.”

Flinching, Teddy gripped the side of the door. “I don’t talk back. Not ever. Does it hurt?”

Shrugging, the blond gave a light blush, glancing over his shoulder towards his house. “I, uh, I’m good with pain.” Teddy followed his gaze, worry starting to gnaw in the pit of his stomach. Lief’s house looked right into his new backyard. Had the boy seen him with Mr. Fowler? Was he they type to make fun of him for something like that? It had been really, well, intense and Teddy didn’t want to have to explain it or anything. He definitely didn’t want the new boy to make fun of him for it.

“You can change now, if you want,” Lief offered, turning back and holding up the black trash bag again. Teddy glanced down to where the boy was looking, realizing he had edged outside enough for the blond to see his shorts were ruined. But he was too excited to care, realizing the bag was actually full of clothes just for him.

Beaming, he took the top of the bag when handed to him, trying to get the swooshy material to open so he could see inside. “Is there any underwear?” He looked up when the boy didn’t answer, Lief biting his lower lip and shaking his head at the question. “Oh—That’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m just really happy to get clothes,” Teddy assured quickly. “I’ve never had my own before. It’s like fifty Christmas all at once.”

“I, uh, I don’t actually own any underwear,” Lief admitted, stepping closer and pulling the band of his tight shorts away from his sharp hipbones to prove he wasn’t lying. “If I had some, I swear I’d have sent you some though. My dad doesn’t buy me any.”

Glancing up from where Lief’s golden skin revealed, a small, round bruise purple under the band of his shorts, Teddy was pretty sure the boy was telling the truth. “I don’t mind, really.” Lief’s green eyes met his fully, Teddy’s breath hitching, something tingling through him in a wave. For a moment he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss Lief the way Mr. Fowler had kissed him, sealing their lips together and tasting the other boy. It made him feel hot to think about, his blush only growing when he realized he had been staring at the boy for an unknown amount of time, Lief staring right back at him.

“Did you want help carrying the clothes?” Lief asked, looking reluctant to leave just yet.

Smiling brightly, Teddy agreed, throwing the door open so that the blond could come in and then turning so he wouldn’t be in the way of the large bag as Lief hauled it through the doorway. Glancing back, Teddy found the boy staring at his ass, his shorts wet with cum slick on his thighs. He didn’t know if Lief knew what he was looking at, but Teddy did, his entire body flushing heat as he quickly turned and used his hand to cover his butt. “S-Sorry, I should go wash up. I promised Granny.”

Glancing at the blond, Teddy edged towards the stairs, jolting when Lief suddenly caught his arm, the blond leaning down to whisper in his ear. “You got off on it, right? When the gardener was fucking you, I could see you had cum.”

Licking his lips, Teddy nodded once, his mind fixated on the word Lief had just said. Fucking. The boy had seen Mr. Fowler fucking him. “It felt good,” he whispered, his body currently feeling really good with Lief’s breath against his cheek, the boy soft and gentle as he held his arms.

“Dave is one of the nicest guys around,” Lief disclosed quietly to the blushing brunette. “He likes to make sure you feel good. Seeing you like that, it uh, it really felt good for me,” he added with a blush. “You’re really cute, Teddy. I think you’re the cutest boy I’ve ever met.”

Blushing wildly, Teddy dared to peek up through his curls, Leif giving him a small smile in return. He wanted to tell the blond that he thought he was cute too, but he couldn’t seem to get his mouth to work. He felt stuck in place, his throat dry and heart hammering in his chest.

“I gotta get back home before my dad gets pissed off,” Lief said, his lashes fluttering as he glanced down at the boy’s mouth. “It’s really good to meet you. I’m glad you’re so, well, nice.”

Teddy nodded mutely, staring up at the boy imploringly and really wishing he could say something back. Looking at the brunette again, Lief suddenly leaned forward, kissing Teddy on the cheek. His breath hitching, Teddy felt even more frozen.

“I hope the clothes fit.” Lief disappeared before Teddy could speak, closing the front door behind him. Teddy stared after, biting his lip hard, his body tingling from head to toe from the simple kiss.

Oh, he was in trouble. Lief was really handsome and nice and he just felt so stupid around the boy. Surely the blond must have thought he was dumb or something. But… he had called him really cute. Had kissed him, even if it was just on his cheek. Teddy wasn’t about to complain about any of it even if his stupid mouth had refused to work.

With shaking hands, he dragged the bag of clothes up the stairs, heaving it onto his bed before stumbling into the bathroom and plugging the tub so he could wash. When he finally squirmed into the lukewarm water and carefully washed his morning from his skin, Teddy could only think of Lief, the boy’s hands, his lips and his sweet smelling flesh.

City Howls 4


Sage had managed to get to school without Corey waking up, his brother having stumbled in drunk some time around dawn and promptly falling asleep. School had been difficult, impossible to concentrate with so many thoughts running through his head never mind feelings through his body. The shifter had not been in the alley. Sage had checked. He wasn’t even sure why just that he had to know that Heller was really gone. Whether he wanted the man to still be there or not, Sage still wasn’t sure. His body was aching and he couldn’t stop thinking about the night before.

Taylor was waiting for him after school, soft ash blond hair and bright blue eyes setting him apart from the others. Taylor was a really odd kid, looking very much sweet and weak and even shorter than Sage was. But the boy was vicious when he needed to be, a switch inside his friend that turned Taylor into a wild, angry thing that would defend himself and friends at any cost. That was how they had become friends to begin with.

Sage had seen the boy being picked on and gone to help, only to be as surprised as the bullies to find that Taylor was plain crazy, biting and punching back with a rock in his fist. He had burst out laughing, seeing such a sweet looking kid go nuts and win. Bullies always underestimated him too, and it just seemed right to hang with Taylor after that.

“You get home alright last night?” Taylor asked, slipping in step with Sage, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans. “I wish you had let me go with you. You know how I worry.”

Sage nodded mutely, not sure what he wanted to tell his friend just yet. He was in trouble, he knew that much. His body was aching, each step he took making his hole throb in memory and unceasing want.

“Sage… you kinda smell, man,” Taylor said, glancing over at him. “And not a garbage smell from the Wastes. Something musky, almost.” He stopped, grabbing the brunette’s hand when the boy tried to walk by him. “What are those marks on your neck?”

Sage ducked away, covering his neck. His flesh had only gotten darker as he slept, bruises blossoming purple in the morning light. “Shit, is it really noticeable?”

“That someone’s been sucking on your neck? Yeah, it fucking is. What the hell happened last night?”

“Oh god, Corey’s going to kill me,” Sage gasped frantically, eyes wide in fear. “Literally kill me. Tayls, I need makeup or some shit. I need to hide this. You know how he gets—He’s going to slice me up so bad, I’ll never move again!”

“Calm down, Sage. Just stop and breathe.” Looking around at the students in the distance, Taylor pulled his friend down the street, heading for his neighborhood. “Start at the beginning and we’ll figure out how to fix it.”

Sage nodded weakly, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Tayls… do werewolves ever… fuck people on the full moon?” He asked quietly, staring at his sneakers.

Taylor stopped walking, scratching the back of his head. “Umm… why do you…?”

Sage ducked his head, edging closer to whisper into the blond’s ear. “When they’re transformed, do they ever… fuck people?” He asked again, blushing brightly.

“I don’t…” Taylor glanced around, speaking quietly. “Yeah, I think so. Not something I’ve seen firsthand, or anything, but they talk about it sometimes. I guess there are some people that really, er, like it.”

“What about shifters?” Sage asked, fidgeting under his friend’s stare.

“Do werewolves fuck shifters?” Taylor asked, looking confused.

“No… damn it.” Sage got right into Taylor’s ear, feeling the blond shiver from his breath. “Do transformed shifters screw a lot of people?”

“Um… maybe? There was this girl once, sister to one of the shifters. The gang had said things about her. About her letting dogs do her and stuff. Why? Did you see something last night?” Taylor stepped back, looking Sage over cautiously. His friend looked different, his already pale skin nearly translucent, lips flushed a deep red, green eyes bright and glowing.

Sage had always been kind of pretty, singled out for his delicate features and slender form. The kid was tough with a terrible brother that kept most bullies away just by existing, but Taylor had taken it on himself to protect Sage as much as he could. The boy was just so nice, stuck in a bad situation with his brother and was the most loyal friend a guy could want. Seeing the brunette now, he had to wonder if maybe Sage might have been getting a different sort of attention looking the way he did.

Glancing around nervously, Sage pulled Taylor into a blind alley, making sure no one was walking by or that any windows were open. “I… I don’t know how to say this,” he mumbled, rocking from foot to foot. “It’s really, really fucked up and… and I don’t know if…”

“Just say it,” Taylor demanded, grabbing Sage by the shoulders. “I don’t care, just tell me. Was it Corey? Did he kill one of them?”

Sage shook his head, fingers tangling in his hair as he tugged his chocolate locks in frustration. “I met a shifter.”

Eyes widening, Taylor pressed his hand over the brunette’s mouth, looking around the alley to make sure that no one was definitely there. “Are you fucking serious? Did he hurt you?”

Sage bit his lip, unable to meet his friend’s concerned gaze. “A little… I don’t think he meant to. There’s something wrong with me, Tayls. I think someone might have, have cursed me or something.”

“Why would you…? Just tell me what happened,” Taylor muttered, ducking his head so his friend could whisper in his ear. Blue eyes widening in shock, Taylor began to curse under his breath as Sage poured out the events of the last night in halting sentences. “Holy fuck, Sage. Shit… Shit! How did you even go to school after that? How are you just fucking standing there and not fucking freaking out or something? He—Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t yell.” Taylor stepped away, kicking the nearest thing he could find, a soda can clattering loudly down the pavement.

Sage continued to tug at his hair agitatedly, watching Taylor’s sneakers as the blond paced. “I gotta find a way to hide the marks, Tayls,” he whispered, flinching when the blond reeled and turned on him.

“You’ve just been fucking raped!” Taylor covered his mouth, glaring at the entrance to the alley. Ducking his head, he whispered furiously into Sage’s ear. “You should go to a doctor. Make sure he didn’t give you something. Who the fuck knows what kinds of diseases shifters have?”

Sage just shook his head, his anxiety growing. “If I go to a doctor, they’ll want to talk to Corey. The shifter is not the issue right now. If Corey finds out, I’m fucking dead!”

“He wouldn’t—Would he? Is he that fucked up that…” Taylor trailed off, eyes closing. Corey was that fucked up. He wouldn’t care how or why, just that Sage had been tainted by a shifter.

“Please, Tayls, I don’t know what to do,” Sage pleaded softly, watching the emotions swirl on his friend’s face. “There’s something wrong with me. The shifter said I had a scent that made him that way. And Corey smelled me last night and you just did now. I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay. Okay, we’re going to fix this. I just… just have to ask for help.” Taylor looked at his friend warily, again taking in the brunette’s strangely beautiful features. Whatever had changed in his friend, it wasn’t just the odd, musky scent. He looked different too, possibly magically different. “First we’re going to get you a hoodie to cover you up. I got something big at home you can wear. And then… then I’m going to call Jared,” he added under his breath.

“But Jared’s a werewolf,” Sage said fretfully.

“Yes, and werewolves know magic,” Taylor replied as evenly as possible, trying to ignore the feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. “So if you’ve really been cursed to… to make shifters want to do that… Well, he’ll be able to help.”

Fidgeting, Sage eventually nodded, letting Taylor grasp his arm and lead him towards his house. “Just… we can’t tell Corey. If he finds out that I’m talking to a werewolf… I already get in trouble because you talk to them.”

“I know, Sage, and I’m sorry about that. We’re going to disguise you so no one will know it’s you.”

Taylor’s mom had once had a fling with a werewolf, the man passing through their lives very briefly. But Taylor had been drawn to the lifestyle the werewolves had led while they were dating, never having to worry about anyone preying on his family or trying to cheat his mom out of her hard earned money and house. Taylor had figured if he were a werewolf, maybe he could protect his family the same way.

“He won’t… he won’t think I want to be one, right?” Sage whispered, Taylor unlocking the door to the small house he lived in and quickly jostling the brunette inside.

“I’ll let him know, not that it matters. They have so many damn hoops you have to jump through,” Taylor said bitterly. “Jared says they won’t even consider me until I’m twenty-five—Which is fucking bullshit because I’ve seen way younger than me. But that’s Frey for you. He’s one of the better pack leaders and has rules like that to keep from being totally terrible like the other gangs.”

Taylor left Sage drinking a glass of orange juice in the kitchen while he rustled up a large, black sweatshirt out of his closet. Grabbing a toothpick, he chewed on it mindlessly while looking around his room. His eyes fell on a pair of sunglasses on his bureau and he quickly snatched them, bringing both downstairs to his friend.

Sage dressed while Taylor used his special cellphone to contact Jared. There would be no way the werewolf would come to his house. It just wasn’t smart, even with Ms. Hunt out and working at the hospital. Taylor’s mom was not a fan of what her son had been slowly getting into, having seen firsthand the consequences of the werewolf gangs and the people that tried to cross them.

“Come on. He says he’ll meet us at The Den,” Taylor said abruptly, pocketing his phone. Sighing, he pulled the hood over Sage’s hair. “I know it’s hot out, but you have to stay covered so you won’t be recognized.” Taylor didn’t bother mentioning that he’d run across way too many fucked up werewolves that would think someone as pretty as Sage was fair game. Jared was his sponsor, protecting him from any ill attention even though he wasn’t officially in with Frey’s pack yet. Another perk with joining a proper werewolf pack and not some bunch of fucked up creeps that thought just because they could transform on the full moon they could hurt anyone they liked.

Sage let Taylor pull him out of the house, his head spinning, stomach tight with anxiety as they headed for the bus. He had made a point to avoid the werewolves; after nearly being murdered by one as a child, Sage really didn’t trust any of them. Taylor was the only reason he was even considering this, and mostly because his friend was as street smart as they came. If Taylor thought the werewolves were his only chance to fix whatever had happened to him, then Sage was willing to give it a shot.

City Howls 1


Sage ran faster, his blood roaring in his ears. Beneath the sound of his heart frantically beating, he could hear it still; claws clicking on cement. It was dark and he had waited too long to go home after leaving his friend Taylor’s. His blond friend had offered to walk with him, but that would have just left Taylor to walk home alone at an even later, more dangerous hour. Sage’s brother would never let someone like Taylor stay at their place overnight, not when the boy hung out with the werewolves.

There was a loud huff, then a growl. Green eyes widening, Sage caught sight of an off shoot, an alleyway connecting streets together. If he could get over to Washington St. where the bars and bright lights were, he might be okay. As if reading his thoughts, there was a low howl, chilling and hungry. It made his knees weak and Sage stumbled to a halt. Dimly he realized that no other voices had raised to join the cry. The shifter was alone, stalking him down without a pack.

Oh god, what was wrong with him? He felt so hot all of a sudden. Not just from the running, but from the sound of the wolf, blue eyes glowing out of the darkness as it panted. “L-Leave me alone,” Sage said weakly, stepping back away from the intense stare. “I’m not… I’m not a werewolf. Your kind are supposed to be able to smell that. I’m just a guy… so leave me alone.”

He had reached the alley, brick rubbing his shoulder coarsely as he turned and nearly barreled backward, just catching the corner to keep from falling. His shoulder ached from how his arm had wrenched. And something else… Something else ached inside him, his legs shaking and feeling heavy. The shifter kept approaching, head low, a dark shadow stalking forward.

Sage knew it was a shifter and not a real wolf. Real wolves didn’t get as big. Something about the magic that allowed shifters to transform into animals also made them look more beautiful than the real creatures out of nature. The black wolf was otherworldly in appearance, silky looking blue-black fur and ice blue eyes. It was looking at him almost as if trying to figure out what he was, nose scenting the air.

Biting his lip, Sage hesitantly held his hand out. Once the shifter smelled him, he would know he wasn’t a werewolf. The shifters and werewolves didn’t get along. Dogtowne was the border where both packs fringed. The name was ironic given that any real dog had been killed off by the cursed werewolves years ago. The werewolves liked to kill the shifters, and the shifters liked to kill them back. Hopefully hanging around with Taylor hadn’t gotten too much werewolf smell on him. Taylor wasn’t a werewolf but he wanted to be.

“Stop!” Sage gasped, the wolf loping up to him and reaching its terrible fangs right at his hand. But the boy had held his hand out, something the shifter recognized enough to approach.

It was so much bigger close up. Sage was small even though full grown, slender and wiry-limbed from never getting a full meal. With his messy chocolate hair and bright green eyes, he was constantly being mistaken for much younger. The wolf stretched out nose to tail tip would likely be as tall as him and much heavier and stronger. Swallowing nervously, Sage raised his hand again, watching his thin fingers shake. The wolf pressed its large maw to his hand, breathing deeply, a low whine falling from its mouth.

Sage had only ever seen one other shifter up close. He had been a wolf too, bright white fur, maybe the same size of this one or even larger. A long time ago when Sage had been just a child, his parents were killed by warring werewolf packs. He had run, a transformed werewolf chasing after him, humanoid and muscular with terrible claws and slavering jaws. Everyone knew werewolves ate children during the full moon and Sage had not wished to be a meal.

He hadn’t known if the white wolf had come to save him or to just kill a werewolf. The shifter had died, the injured werewolf lurching and staggering away while the wolf bled out. Sage had cried, watching the fluffy fur stained scarlet turn into a tall, powerful looking man, blood pouring from his throat. He had been beautiful, long white-blond hair and pale eyes. His skin had nearly been as white as the wolf’s fur.

He had tried to help the shifter, but Sage’s brother had found him. Corey had screamed at him for going near such a filthy, horrible monster and pulled him away. Corey didn’t care that the shifter had saved Sage. He hated all of them, shifters and werewolves.

Staring at the icy eyes of the dark creature still sniffing his hand and wrist, Sage wondered what the man looked like. They were all males, the shifter gene stuck on the Y-chromosome. Not all men were shifters, but all shifters were male. They were also usually very handsome, or so Sage had been told. The shifters didn’t come into the city as people. The werewolves could smell what they were and would hunt them down quick enough. Moving as a wolf was much faster.

“S-See? I told you I wasn’t a werewolf,” Sage stammered, foot slipping back to creep away. The wolf growled at him, the boy freezing and biting his lip. What if the rumors were true? What if the shifters were just as terrible as the werewolves and if they got hungry enough they might just eat a person?

Sweat trickled down his neck. The wolf didn’t look particularly skinny, more compact muscle and nicely kept fur. But maybe it was just well fed on stupid humans that didn’t know better than to wait until daylight to travel?

Sage cautiously peeked over his shoulder. There was a large dumpster blocking most of his view. Only as far as two towering apartment buildings away were city lights, neon and garish. If he ran for them, he might make it. The shifter wouldn’t risk being around a huge population. The werewolves roamed at night, partying with their human crew of gangsters. Surely the shifter would avoid a bar full of both.

Decided, heart slamming in his chest, Sage turned and ran. He made it about three feet before he tripped, blind to the black plastic bag of trash that had been right by his foot. He fell heavily, the concrete jarring his bones, everything spinning for frantic, dizzy minutes. “Shit—Oh fuck, get off me,” he whimpered, the wolf growling and biting the collar of his shirt, paws and a great weight pinning him hard to the ground by his shoulders.

Sage felt so hot and dizzy. There was something wrong with him, some sort of fever. There was a musky, strange smell around him that had nothing to do with the garbage only feet away. He thought maybe it was the wolf. The creature was tearing at his shirt with its vicious teeth, pulling a long slash down the fabric, a ripping noise loud in his ears.

It was going to eat him. Peel his clothes off and eat him like a bag of dog food. As if to validate the terrifying thought, the wolf began to lick over Sage’s exposed back, its slippery pink tongue lapping down, stealing the spots of blood its claws had caused while it continued to stand on top of him. Sage should have been terrified but there was something wrong with him at the moment. His body felt so hot, so achingly tight and hard. He woke up some mornings, heated dreams fading where he felt like this. He had never felt it while awake. He could be dreaming… that would make more sense.

“Oh god… please stop,” Sage groaned, teeth nipping at his shoulder and shooting fire through him. He shouldn’t like this. It was a shifter and a male. Sage wasn’t supposed to like guys… or wolves. “Oh… oh hell…” The tongue moved lower, down his back, licking the dip of his waist and leaving trails of wet on his skin. He wondered if it would go lower—If he should help the shifter get his jeans off so it would lick even lower.

Eyes squeezed shut, Sage silently cursed himself. He shouldn’t want that. What kind of freak wanted that? God, he was so hard, though.

While he fought with his body’s confusing desires, the shifter nipped at his waistband, sinking teeth in and pulling his jeans down. They were too tight, Sage gasping with each tug of fabric that pulled snug on his erection. He was going crazy. Shifters might eat a person, but they didn’t fuck them. At least, he didn’t think they did. His brother had suggested something disgusting along the lines of it, but Corey always said gross stuff about sex. The man thought everything about sex was filthy, including wanting it. Sage was, unfortunately, feeling very filthy at the moment.

Unable to hold back any longer, he reached down, fighting with the clasp of his jeans and unbuttoning them one handed. He unzipped slowly, the wolf stilling as he heard the metal teeth unfurl. Panting, Sage raised his hips when the shifter tugged again, the heavy fabric giving way, pulling down his narrow hips and then slender thighs with each wrench and snarl, leaving his exposed flesh stinging on the rough concrete. God, what was he doing?

A hard nose pressed against his ass, his briefs the only protection from the hot snuffles and sharp teeth. The shifter was smelling him, down his crack, pushing between his cheeks, breathing in the musk of his balls. Sage bit his lip hard, trying to keep from moaning with each touch. Maybe this was all it wanted. Just to smell him and learn whatever the hell it was canines learned from sniffing each other. That Sage was getting hard, his cock dripping precum was really just something fucked up with him.

It was apparently not enough, the wolf huffing and nipping at the thin material of his underwear, stretching it from the boy’s golden skin. It got his briefs halfway down his thighs, the material snagging on the front around Sage’s embarrassingly hard dick. The nose returned with prickling whiskers and damp heat, nuzzling and wedging between his pert cheeks with clear intent. Sage could not stop from crying out loudly, his hips jolting forward.

“Why are you…? Oh god… that’s bad… really, really bad,” Sage mumbled mindlessly, the slippery tongue delving, tasting his bare ass and sac, sliding around to lap at his hard cock. Then it wiggled between his cheeks and lighted over the pucker of his hole. “It’s dirty… so dirty,” he whispered, his face and neck bright red. But it felt so good.

Corey had promised to beat him if he ever masturbated like some degenerate, freak pervert. His older brother used to beat Sage whenever he caught him getting hard. Sometimes even doing stuff to hurt him that made him hard and then punishing him for it after. Only sick freaks liked that. Corey still did that sometimes, usually after getting drunk and extra mean. Sage still couldn’t stop from getting hard, just showing how fucked up he was.

The tongue kept moving, nose pushing relentlessly against his crack, spreading his cheeks wider as it slipped over his entrance again and again. The wolf nosed lower, pushing at Sage’s thighs, forcing him up onto his knees while the boy’s slender legs trembled. Then again, slipping deep between his cheeks, tasting him more from the new angle, dripping trails of saliva down his pale inner thighs.

“D-Don’t—You shouldn’t… oh fuck—Oh fuck, you’re gonna…” Sage sobbed weakly, realizing what was coming next. He was surrounded by silky fur, black and suffocating as it rubbed on his bare back, ass and thighs. The wolf settled heavily on his sloped torso, paws clutching his narrow, heaving chest. Sage could feel hot splatters of liquid, each hump of the wolf’s hard cock adding another stream of wet to his thighs and ass.

He wanted to spread his legs wider but his jeans caught on his lower thighs prevented him. The wolf kept rocking against him, hard, eager thrusts against the firm flesh of his right ass cheek, jarring him forward until he toppled, face bruising to the ground, hands barely able to catch him in time. It was going to fuck him. Like some dirty animal in some dark back alley. That was all Sage was—Some weak little bitch, even to a shifter that had just met him.

The pink tongue was back, licking over his neck in long, languid swipes. The wolf leaned forward more, seeking out Sage’s gasping lips against the ground, tongue swirling over, stealing his moans, plunging inside him. “Oh hell…” Sage was overwhelmed, breath caught as the wolf lapped into his mouth, up his face and then back again, delving deep. The shifter was kissing him almost like he was supposed to like it. Had it fucked people before? Did other people like this too?

“Oh no, don’t do that… Please stop. It feels…” Sage pulled from the persistent tongue, the wolf adjusting, its large cockhead pushing between the boy’s tight cheeks. “It’ll hurt. It’s too big.”

The shifter whined in his ear apologetically even as it surged forward, Sage’s hole stretching wide around the slick, red head. “Oh god, no, no—Stop… gotta stop.” The dick was so much bigger than anything should be. So hot and thick, throbbing between his clenched muscles. Too big. Too thick… but… so damn good…

He was really messed up. An absolute freak. And the shifter knew because he hadn’t tried to eat him or even kill him. No, he had smelled him and decided fucking was how to deal with a boy like him. And a really sick part of Sage was glad for it as he panted aching breaths on the ground and tried to unclench for the thick dick.

Eyes squeezed shut, mouth open wide gasping for breath, Sage began to moan. It wasn’t stopping, the heavy, silky beast jarring forward, burying its length deeper, forcing the brunette’s channel open inch, by sinking inch. Surging again and again, slicking wet, dripping juices inside him and out, down his thighs and legs with every thrust. Beneath the low grunts and pants in his ear, Sage could hear the shifter fucking him. Harsh, slapping wet sounds echoed off the alley walls as the wolf jolted its large cock into him unceasingly.

“Please… oh no… too much,” Sage choked out, the swollen base of the beast’s cock trying to push inside his stretched flesh. It was thicker, a sharp knot that kept surging against his sore hole, pushing his flesh wider with each thrust. Sage felt so hot inside, his hole stretched again and then again, achingly wide to accommodate the too large base.

The wolf growled in his ear, nipping at his shoulder and tightening its forelegs as it began to hump him harder. It pounded forward, trying to shove its knot deep into Sage’s clenching entrance. Cry after shuddering cry, Sage’s muscles opened to the thick flesh, tears and sweat streaming down his face from the impossible girth burying inside him. So big. So crazy, achingly big.

With a low whine, the wolf’s knot made it past his unstretched muscles, Sage crying out in agony from the feel of it filling him completely. Everything changed in that moment, heat rising through him, vision dizzy from pain and adrenaline. “Oh hell… Oh.” Sage’s hole cinched tight, holding the long cock and thick knot in deep inside him. Where it belonged, deep, tight inside him, filling him. The thrusts, once wild and slapping, were now grinding, hard jolts that turned his vision red with each pump. Sage pushed back into each slam as he rested his forehead on the ground and groaned.

“God, don’t stop… Need it. Need it so bad… Oh, oh fuck…” The beast was licking him again, stealing the saliva that was dripping down his gasping mouth and collecting on his chin. “Fuck… fuck me… Harder.” He was so fucked up. So fucked for liking it. Was it magic? Did the shifter cast a spell on him to make him want this as much as he did? So much suffocating, silky fur against his skin, hard, hot muscle, and thick, dripping cock. He couldn’t really want it as bad as he did. It was too good. So thick. So big inside and so good.

“Oh god!” Sage cried out, the knot inside him swelling, the wolf grinding him forward, bearing all its weight onto his shaking legs as it pulsed spurt after spurt of seed inside him. “Wet… hot, and… wet,” he moaned, wiggling his hips back, trying to get the fluid deeper inside. It was so wet, cum splashing molten against his burning passage. Unceasing gushes flooded him, claiming him, staining deep inside. It was right. So wrong, and fuck, so right. He needed it.

“M-More… Don’t stop… Need it.” He was so messed up. Even the shifter had to know there was just something fucking wrong with him for liking it. “Oh yeah… Oh yeah, that’s it… again,” Sage pleaded as the wolf nipped his neck, then his shoulder, each jolt of pain and hump of hips making his cock twitch. He was so close, so fucking close. He wasn’t supposed to cum, wasn’t ever supposed to be like those degenerate freaks Corey was always talking about. But he was so close, and Sage was being fucked by a wolf and didn’t fucking care what Corey had to say about anything at the moment. He needed it so bad.

“Need it… fucking need it, wolf. God, yes, just a little… harder.” Breath catching in his throat, Sage mouth gaped wide, eyes squeezed shut as his body clenched tight around the wolf cock buried deep inside him. “So big… So fucking big.” He came with a strangled cry, harsh, broken noises falling from his lips as he spurted cum all over the front of his underwear.

So good. It felt so good.

Sage’s voice returned with a sob, heat flushing his face, neck, and shoulders as he began to realize what he had just done.

With a shifter. On his knees in an alley with some fucking dog of a shifter. Corey was right; he was a freak. He got hard over fingers and cock, and it didn’t even matter what that cock was attached to.

“Get off me,” he whispered hoarsely, his shaking body feeling heavy and tired. The wolf was still humping, softer jolting rocks that hurt his knees and bracing arms with each movement. Sage was sweating beneath the black fur, feeling too hot, his skin too sensitive to every strand, every breeze. “Please… please stop.”

The shifter licked his face, whining as it wet his ear, cheek and nose with its whipping tongue. Still it fucked him even when Sage stretched forward, wearily lying out on the hard ground strewn with wet newspaper and trash. He closed his eyes, wondering how much longer the shifter would continue. The wolf made a heavy, hot blanket, and he drifted as the shuddering jolts of hips became gentle, intermittent pushes.