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Sorcerer Slayer S56


Dorian kept a sharp eye on Vincent while they were in the shop. Thankfully Tidal proved to be free of anything concerning, to the point he wasn’t even sure they would have what Jake needed. It was one of those new age magic shops. He assumed it would all be useless crap but apparently ‘new age’ was reappropriated to help take the dark taint out of what magic used to stand for.

Dorian hadn’t willingly been in a magic shop for years. The last time, he was with his grandfather and bored out of his mind. If he was honest, he kind of found a lot of things about magic boring. Old spells, old ingredients, old traditions and tons of bullshit. It was why he avoided these places like the plague. It was also why he found himself more than a little curious as he looked around. This was not the magic shops he’d grown up in. There was fun stuff here, ridiculous stuff, and maybe a few things that were actually functional while also not ancient as dirt.

He was impressed with the variety of herbs Tidal offered and that they used proper storage. They seemed to have everything; if Tidal ever gave up on magic they could totally run a seasoning company or something. If not that, maybe a quarry. Dorian had never seen so many different types of rocks in one place. He knew the use for some of them but it wasn’t one of those subjects he actually cared about enough to study. Antonio seemed thrilled with the larger pieces and had calmed a lot since they came in.

Dorian gave the crystals a cursory look and wondered if he could find something protective for Wylie. Wylie wasn’t into jewelry but he might keep something in his pocket if he convinced him to.

Dorian always got nervous when they were in the city. He knew Michael was with Wylie, he knew it wasn’t like those asshole gangsters would ever dare walk into a police station to fuck with him. Still, he couldn’t help but worry when Wylie was away. Outside of the Academy, the world felt so unsure and he hated it. He hated feeling dependant on a building, on all the people and the feeling of stability they created. Before the Academy, it had been his parents and his grandfather’s wealth and prestige. Now… now that Wylie had given him a taste of freedom, Dorian couldn’t help but fear it could be taken away.

He sighed heavily and drifted to display of wall ornaments meant to be hung. He paused when his gaze lit on a hand carved motif of a dragon, accented with whorls and flowers. He reached for it and ran his finger along the wooden edge, following each bump and groove.

“Don’t waste your money,” Vincent said from behind him.

“Why?” The design was beautiful and fierce. The intricate dragon made Dorian think of Wylie; a mix of peace and protectiveness. It was carved from a lightweight wood and stained a deep red. It would look nice on Wylie’s wall and mean something extra special if he imbued it with a spell.

“It’s fake.” Vincent came up beside him and ran his thumb along the serpentine tail. He pulled his hand back and held the digit up for Dorian to see. “No lacquer. It needs blood for it to work.”

Dorian started. “Blood?”

“Dragon blood.” Vincent’s eyes cut into his. “I thought you were morally against this. Do you really want to bring something back to the Academy meant to be coated in dragon blood?”

Dorian reared back from the carving as if burned. “Fucker.” He whirled on Vincent with a scowl. “Why do you know so much about this shit?”

Vincent scoffed and glanced away. “Why don’t you? I thought you were apprenticing with your grandfather. The old ones all know about this stuff.”

“I guess my grandfather was different than yours,” Dorian shot back. He glared at the ornate carving as his mind spun. He never would have assumed it was made for dragon’s blood, but now he thought about it, it did remind him of a drawing he saw in one of his grandfather’s old books.

“He wasn’t my grandfather,” Vincent said after a pause. “I have no family.”

Dorian clicked his mouth shut to stop from making another angry retort. He looked Vincent’s way and noticed how tight he was holding his shoulders. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

Vincent shrugged. He appeared unaffected as he pointed to a small mirror with whorls carved into its wooden frame. “That would be a better choice.”

“What?” Dorian lifted his head and turned to look.

“For Doe. The protection spell is weaved into the glass with sunlight.” Vincent’s expression was wry. “Considering who your boyfriend is rooming with, he could probably use all the protection he can get.”

Dorian nodded silently and pretended to study the mirror. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Vincent shrewdly took in the instruments and novelties around them with obvious knowledge. He scoffed at anything fake or that lacked the illegal means needed to make them potent for the spells they were created for. That those illegal means were usually the magic-soaked organs of shifters didn’t seem to bother Vincent much.

Dorian looked at his reflection in the mirror where his hazel eyes glared back. Vincent Frost was brilliant, a library of knowledge when it came to magic, and it was a wonder he was at the Academy. Any master with a brain would never let him live around shifters and grow a heart.

How had Vincent come to the Academy? He never talked about himself. Lately, he didn’t talk at all outside of yelling at Fox or answering the instructor’s questions in class. On the rare occasion Vincent did talk to the other patients, it was void of all his usual hateful shit that pushed everyone away.

Dorian still couldn’t understand what Vincent was doing in the last store. He had seemed half possessed with his need to buy the one fucking item he shouldn’t have ever wanted. The weird thing was, when he thought back to it, Vincent hadn’t fought him to destroy the item. Besides being pissed off from having it pulled from his hand, he hadn’t even looked upset. It didn’t make sense.

A lot about Vincent didn’t make sense.

Dorian turned to a shelf full of decorative, blank notebooks and let his fingers sift through the spines. “You thinking of getting anything?” he asked when Vincent paused a few feet away.

Vincent glanced his way and shook his head. “I don’t need anything.”

“And Fox?” Dorian raised an eyebrow.

Vincent’s expression grew stormy. He tossed his head back and his hair fanned around him in a sleek wave. “Why would I buy anything for that flea bag?”

If Vincent had a heart, Dorian was pretty sure it gave an extra beat when Fox was around, even if it was in violent protest. “Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled smoothly. “Maybe because most guys like it when they know you’re thinking about them.”

“I’m not thinking about him.” Vincent looked determined to convince the world. “I don’t ever think of him. Why would I think about that idiot?”

Dorian bit back a grin. Fuck, but it was too easy. It was funny enough to watch Fox rile Vincent up. Apparently just talking about the fox shifter had the same effect. He glanced Vincent’s way again before adding casually, “It’ll be weird when Fox gets you something and you don’t have anything to give back.”

“Get me?” Vincent froze and his brows drew down in thought. “Ridiculous.” His eyes were full of something new when he looked around the spacious shop again. After a long minute, he turned back to Dorian. “He wouldn’t like anything here.”

Dorian exhaled slowly to keep from shouting anything along the lines of ‘I knew it!’ Vincent still hadn’t actually admitted to liking Fox no matter all the fucking obvious signs he gave off. Dorian kept his voice cool as he asked, “How do you know he won’t like anything?”

“Because he’s a shifter and they hate anything to do with Applied Magic.” Vincent thought a moment and added in afterthought, “And he’s accident prone. He’d explode anything I gave him, the idiot.”

Dorian was pretty sure Fox would find a way to explode air if Vincent was around to be caught in the mess. The guy had a problem and it was connected to his dick more than anything to do with controlling his magic. “You can always get him food.”

Vincent glanced to the side and paused as he took in a display of colorful nail polish. The sign claimed each one was imbued with a different spell. Vincent peered closer and picked up a deep, vibrant blue.

Dorian smirked when he saw. “What, they have something there to make a person mute?”

“Clarity and focus,” Vincent whispered. He picked up a bottle of black that was supposed to protect against negativity and held it up to eye level. There were small little bits of glitter that caught the light as he stared.

“The blue looks good. Totally Fox’s color.” Dorian was trying really hard not to snicker. Vincent looked absolutely fascinated with the nail polish. There was no way Fox would say no. If Vincent gave him a gift, he would coat himself in the fucking thing to prove his gratitude.

Vincent looked at the blue nail polish again and a frown twisted his lips. “The spells are fake. There’s no magic in these bottles.”

“You can enchant it yourself,” Dorian said quickly. “Or.” He held his hand out expectantly and Vincent went to hand him the bottle. In a swift move, Dorian grabbed his wrist and spelled Vincent’s fingernails black. “It’s an easy glamor. I used to do it all the time with my friends.”

Vincent pulled his hand free and stared at his nails. “You have friends?”

“Had,” Dorian replied flatly. “Magic users fuck that shit up pretty quick.” He scowled to himself as he spelled his own nails black. Sorcerers were terrible friends on the best of days. At least, he was when he was younger. He wasn’t even sure how he would go about being a friend now. If not for Wylie and Dante, he’d still be avoiding everyone at the Academy. Sure, he wasn’t mean to people or anything… well, unless they pissed him off.

Dorian sighed. When he wiggled his fingers, his fingernails turned purple. Each time he flexed a finger, the nail changed color, one white, another red, a florescent green and a glittering gold. Vincent watched the display intently, his focus on the flow of magic. Dorian waved both his hands at once and his fingernails turned black and stayed this time.

Vincent put the bottle of nail polish down, stared at his hands and concentrated. With a few softly spoken words, he made it so his nails looked like transparent, black glass.

“Nice,” Dorian whistled, feeling slightly envious. With a glance to Vincent’s nails, he made his own a matte black in comparison. It was such a deep black, they looked like light absorbing shadows. Vincent grunted in approval.

Dorian couldn’t help but study his face a moment while Vincent was busy playing with his glamor. Vincent might not be a complete asshole. He had no idea what the fuck was wrong with the guy—there was clearly something wrong with him—but when Dorian thought about it, there was something wrong with everyone at the Academy. You didn’t end up there for being normal.

“You should get him the blue one.” Dorian nodded to the nail polish when Vincent looked his way.

“The spell doesn’t work.”

“So?” Dorian snorted. “Blue’s a good color on Fox. It’ll match his tattoos and shit. Trust me, he likes crazy color.”

Vincent considered the bottle again. He turned it sideways to watch the paint coat the glass. “Do you buy Doe things like this?”

Dorian glanced away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “When he lets me. He’s really weird about that kind of shit.”

“He doesn’t like gifts?”

“No, not that… Well. He’s weird.” It was a difficult subject for him to explain, mostly because Dorian was still trying to figure it out. “Things mean more to him. Simple things like clothes and stuff. Wylie feels like an asshole because he doesn’t have any money so he gets pissed off when I spend on him. Not like it’s my money either,” Dorian felt the need to add. “I mean, my parents just dump shit in my bank account. Not like I can work like this or anything.” That particular subject was even more difficult and Dorian was quick to jump away from it.

“Wylie has nothing, and he hates that he doesn’t have anything because he thinks it means he’s a failure or some shit. But he won’t let me give him anything either, even worthless stuff. He gets angry like I’m saying he can’t buy his own stuff. But he can’t!” Dorian growled in exasperation. “He’s not allowed to make a fucking cent until his five years are up. I never know if he’s going to be pissed off or happy when I get him something.”

Just talking about it stirred the frustrating feelings up. Dorian’s gut felt tight and for the life of him, he had no fucking clue why he was telling this to Vincent of all people.

“Pride,” Vincent said simply as he stared at the bottle of nail polish. He looked deep in thought, his gray eyes unfocused.

Dorian nodded sharply and relaxed a bit. He glanced Vincent’s way when the other didn’t say anything else. “Yeah, stupid ass pride. Dante is way…”

“What the?” Antonio gasped. Dorian was already turning to the window and the source of the magic.

“That’s Justin.” Vincent took two steps toward the windowed wall that faced the street, then turned slightly to the right with his head cocked. “That was definitely Justin. What spell would he be using that we can feel him this far away and through that barrier?”

“The barrier is only one way,” Dorian reminded. He was far more curious to know why Justin would be using a spell at all in the middle of the city. Justin’s magic came from his werewolf and the dark creature’s magical signature was distinct. Justin didn’t cast magic unless his wolf was involved and it was never a good thing.

Vincent stood in the doorway of the shop, outlined in the afternoon light. His face turned as another flare of magic reached their senses. There was no doubt it belonged to Justin. They were all familiar with his signature from sensing the beast during the full moon. Jake immediately brought his goods up to the other side of the room and laid them out on the counter to be rung up.

“We’re leaving. Now,” Dorian said to Antonio, who was holding a basket full of things.

Antonio gave an exaggerated sigh but started toward the check out. “Why do they always ruin everything? They’re probably harassing pigeons or some shit.”

Dorian highly doubted it. Justin was the most composed out of all the shifters; he was too aware of the consequences not to be. The thing was, he fought with his dark wolf all the time and when he lost, it rarely had such strong magical results. Dorian crossed his arms over his chest and waited impatiently. He tried not to think of just what would have Justin casting magic in the middle of downtown among a bunch of defenseless humans.

Vincent gasped loudly and grasped the door frame hard for balance. Dorian stumbled back from the sudden disorienting blast of power. “Shit! We’re going now.”

Vincent was already down the stairs when Dorian broke into a run. In the distance Justin’s power snuffed out completely and Fox’s power rose up and flared in an explosion.

Demon Arms 19


It wasn’t difficult to find Wylie through the maze of towering shipping crates. The power radiating in the area was a beacon and any sorcerer in miles probably sensed it. Which made him wonder just what the fuck kind of idiot sorcerer would go through the trouble of protecting a crate and not mask his signature. It was just begging for a cocky bastard to come along and steal whatever was inside.

It wasn’t a sorcerer trying to get into the crate, Dorian soon discovered when he stepped up behind the gang of punks loaded down with weapons. No, it was some snot nosed amateur magic user and a bunch of gangsters, all of them human. They were camped out in front of the crate as if the thing was going to suddenly rear up and attack them. Seriously, what a bunch of idiots.

Although he wasn’t in a hurry to meet the arrogant sorcerer who spelled the canister, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Wylie get caught up with the powerful stranger either. Any sorcerer who could raise such a spell would know the worth of a dragon shifter. It was dangerous shit.

Unfortunately, Wylie was in the crate and Dorian had to get past the idiots with guns first.

He pulled a cigarette free and lit it idly while taking in the formation of men. The weirdo in the green jumpsuit looked like he ran the show. Someone was bleeding, a guy about his own age, and a tougher guy stood over him with a gun. It seemed like a good place to start. Dorian walked forward without bothering to camouflage himself.

His choice was correct. Dorian picked up on Wylie’s scent the closer he got to the guy swaying on the ground. He turned his gaze towards the large metal crate and wondered what the hell was inside it. But people were shouting at him now and the sounds of hammers being cocked were surprisingly distracting.

“Who the fuck are you!” He dismissed the man covered in scars and tattoos, who was waving his gun like it was going to do shit. Dorian turned to the guy on the ground. He offered him a hand and helped him to his feet.

“You know Wylie?” Dorian finished his cigarette and dispersed it with a puff of smoke. That got the angry yelling to stop. The men around him grew tenser when they realized he wasn’t just some powerless teenager wandering in.

Beck nodded slowly in answer to his question. He watched as the beautiful stranger moved so he was between Beck and the many men with guns. Dorian touched his face and he jumped. Dorian just raised an eyebrow at his reaction and pressed fingers again to his cheek. Heat radiated from his touch and soothed away the pain throbbing in the bruises Diego gave him.

“He a friend of yours?” Dorian wanted to make sure he was helping the right guy. Probably. Beck was sweet looking and lacked the resolve to kill, unlike the hard-eyed men around them.

“Dating,” Beck muttered while he touched his face gingerly. When no pain came, he quickly wiped the remaining blood away. His hands were shaking, likely from having a gun at his head for so long.

“Ah.” Dorian didn’t know what to say to Wylie’s ex—or what, current? Had Wylie gone there just to get back together with the guy?

Well, fuck.

Dorian licked his teeth and tried to push the stab of jealousy away. There was a mini army of punks with guns and Wylie was in some crate with god only knew what. Now was not the time to start feeling sorry for himself.

“What’s in the box?” Dorian asked while inconspicuously studying Beck, who was pushing his hair from his face. He wasn’t bad looking beneath the bruises. He had a sweet face if not a bit innocent. Of course Wylie had been dating someone before he came to the Academy. Hell, maybe they were still dating. For all he knew, this guy was waiting patiently for Wylie to get his dragon form under control so the two could live happily ever after in their white-trash gangster ghetto.

Nope, he was totally bitter as fuck. Damn it.

Beck stared warily at the large metal crate and gave a shrug full of uncertainty. “Not sure. Something worth a lot of money but it’s supposed to be dangerous. Wylie went in there over ten minutes ago and he hasn’t come out. I don’t… I hope he’s okay.”

“You should mind your own business.” Adam walked over to the two and met Dorian’s gaze challengingly.

“Fuck off, Adam,” Beck snapped. “Go lick Roth’s boots like the little bitch you are.”

Adam folded his arms over his chest and continued to glare at Dorian. The kid was short with mousy brown hair and wide, frightened eyes. He had power but it wasn’t flowing properly, which meant he had no clue about what the fuck he was doing. Hardly a threat to someone like him.

“I’m here for my boy, Wylie. I really don’t give a fuck what’s going on.” Dorian turned and took in the array of gangsters still pointing guns at him. “Except, seeing as you all seem to be ready to go on a shooting spree aimed where my friend is, I might have to step in just to prevent that.”

“Maybe we can help each other out,” Roth spoke up with a fake smile plastered on his face.

Dorian watched as the weirdo in the green tracksuit approached. For someone with absolutely no magical power, he managed to look confident. “Oh?”

“Yes. Doe has gotten himself trapped in that crate over there and we can’t get through the magic locking him in.” Roth looked him over with an assessing gaze. Dorian’s eyes narrowed in response. “But you seem to have some power, kid. Either that or you’re really fucking brave. If you get that barrier down, we’ll be able to set Wylie free and the two of you can be on your way.”

Dorian wasn’t an idiot. If there were men more manipulative and terrifying than his own grandfather and father, he had yet to meet them. The poorly dressed gangster wasn’t even close to their league. Dorian glanced at Adam’s closed expression and then to Beck’s wide, fearful eyes.

“Don’t,” Beck pleaded under his breath. “They’re gonna kill him.”

A spark jumped off of Dorian’s fingers. Beck stared at him in shock but he didn’t notice. Dorian’s magic was bubbling up in response to the sudden emotion rising in him.

They were going to kill Wylie? Fucking kill him?

“Fuck,” Dorian growled. Two more sparks shot free while he struggled for control.

“Are you—oh!” His eyes wide, Beck stumbled back when Dorian grabbed him. He hauled the shorter boy to the crate. Dorian sliced his hand down, tore a temporary hole in the barrier and shoved Beck through before he could protest.

“What are you doing?” Beck pressed uselessly at the invisible barrier.

“Stay here. It might keep you alive. Wylie can shield some magic.” The barrier plus Wylie’s abilities might be enough. Maybe, if anything was ever enough.

It was getting hard to think. Dorian felt the magic surge up and try to take him over. It wanted blood and he, well, he wouldn’t mind killing these stupid, arrogant fuckers who thought they could just take Wylie away.

Wylie had left the Academy for these freaks. Had left him. No, fuck that.

Beck blanched from the expression on Dorian’s face. Jolts of light sparked across the sorcerer’s body while Dorian’s eyes changed. His once expressive hazel orbs turned black along with the whites of his eyes. It was creepy as fuck, somehow more so because he was so beautiful. Beck held his breath and was relieved when Dorian finally turned away.

Dorian hazily took in the gang of men. The shipping crates were stacked high around them and formed a bizarre metal canyon. It might be enough to contain his power. It might be enough to keep him from taking out more than just the area and the fuckers around him.

His eyes fell on Adam, who was so small and scrawny among the bulked and muscular gangsters. He smiled and felt his lips stretch in a more than psychotic way. “Are you looking to kill my Wylie too?” His voice was deceptively calm as he stepped towards Adam and more sparks flared from his skin. “Are you planning on skinning him? Stealing his fucking magic for some shit dark spells?”

Adam shook his head wildly and stumbled away from Dorian. He cringed when he saw the blackness of his eyes. “N-Never. I’m self-taught. I don’t know anything about magic except what I learned on the web. I’d never kill someone for a spell.”

Dorian’s smile grew. “Then you better get the fuck out cuz once I get started, this whole place is going down.”

Adam licked his lips nervously and glanced at Roth. If the gangster let him go, it would be riddled with bullets. But Dorian had damn monstrous power. If he were to choose between guns or the sorcerer, it would be Dorian. Adam slipped around the sparking sorcerer and headed to the crate Beck and Wylie were in. He swiftly moved down the length and ducked behind the makeshift shield.

“Do I give you creeps the same choice?” Dorian’s voice was unfamiliar in his own ear. It sounded smooth and controlled as he stalked forward. “You’re pointing guns at my guy.”

“Chill the fuck out, kid.” Roth hardly looked impressed with his power even though Dorian’s clothes were smoking and flames just started to lick up his shirt. “You’re getting worked up over nothing. The guns are for what’s in the crate, not Doe.”

“Wylie’s in the fucking crate!”

“Stupid kid.” Roth sighed resignedly and looked over at Diego. Diego raised his gun, pointed it at Dorian’s chest, and three bullets exploded out in succinct explosions.

Dorian didn’t bother moving. The bullets didn’t hit, not that Diego’s aim was off. They hovered in midair in front of the now flaming sorcerer where they were suspended inches from his body. Moments later, they fell with a metallic clatter.

“You guys might want to start running like the little bitches you are.” Dorian’s teeth bared in an expression he couldn’t comprehend. He felt wrong, twisted. It was the first time his power hadn’t immediately exploded outward and he wasn’t himself.

Roth glared back at his men who were staring at the sorcerer like they were facing the devil. “Come on, you pussies. It’s just a fucking kid. He can block one gun, but there’s no way he can block us all. Fucking shoot him!”

Dorian glared when two dozen guns immediately clicked in preparation to fire. Wow, they were really fucking stupid. What did he have to do, start flying for them to take him seriously? Fucktards.

A vicious smile twisted his lips. Let them shoot. They had no idea who they were fucking with.

The shooting grew louder. Wylie gasped when he got another centimeter open on the chain now coated in his blood. It was nearly done. With a growl he gave a final pull. He roared triumphantly when the chain snapped apart in his hands.

“Did you…?” Dante blinked back tears and whimpered as Wylie moved to untangle him. It was overwhelmingly loud after so much silence. Metal struck metal as each freed loop landed on the floor of the crate. Dante sat up unsteadily with Wylie’s help. The chain was wrapped so many times around him Wylie swore under his breath.

“You’re like a fucking mummy.” Wylie hissed when metal burned into the cuts on his hands. The chain gave a final ear piercing clatter and fell flat on the ground in a heap.

Wylie licked his palms to heal his bloody cuts. He let Dante sway in his sitting position and get used to being unbound.

“You’re really strong,” Dante finally whispered. His rail-thin body shook uncontrollably. “Are all dragon shifters like you?”

“No clue.” He held his hands out and Dante fumbled for them the instant he made contact. “Try not to be scared when you see me, okay? I’m covered in black scales and I’m sure I look scary as hell. Can you stand?”

Dante tried. He clutched Wylie’s hands when his knees gave out.

“Damn.” Wylie’s anger grew to see how weak he was. “How long have you been in this crate?”

“I… I’m not sure,” Dante whispered. “It’s so dark. I couldn’t tell the time. I… I got sick…” he trailed off and blushed when his hand brushed over his damp pants.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like they gave you a bathroom.” Wylie tugged his hand and Dante nearly fell again. “I’m going to carry you, okay? We might have to run really fast and I don’t want you to fall and get hurt.”

“Okay.” Dante let himself be lifted. He wrapped his arms around the back of Wylie’s neck as scaled arms engulfed him. “You’re really strong.”

Wylie couldn’t answer. His rage was too great. The kid was thin as a straw and weighed barely anything. Who the fuck would have chained a little boy up in the dark and thrown him in some fucking crate? He didn’t know but if he ever met the person, he was going to make sure they suffered even more than little Dante had.

“We’re going to get you home, Dante. First, I’ll take you to the place I live. There are lots of good people there, and they’ll protect you. Then we’re going to find your parents and get you home. Just remember, I’m not going to look like a normal guy when you first see me. I have lots of scales.”

“I know.” Dante’s breath was too cold against his neck. Wylie had a chilling fear that the kid might be losing the last of his energy while in his arms, even though he was now free of the chains. He quickened his pace and headed for the door to the container. Wylie stopped short when he caught sight of an arm framed in the narrow gap leading out. He breathed deep and his confusion only grew from the familiar scent.


Beck didn’t answer. He barely glanced at Wylie when he pushed his way out the door with Dante in his arms. “Holy fuck, Wy. Your new boyfriend is fucking awesome.”

“Boyfriend?” His gaze followed to where Beck was staring. Wylie almost dropped Dante when he saw Dorian. “What the hell? When did he get here?” Better yet, why was he there? After the bonfire incident, he could have sworn Dorian wanted nothing to do with him.

Wylie jerked when he realized the bursts of magic shooting off of Dorian were just powerful versions of the sparks he had a habit of letting loose around him. “Shit. B, I need you to watch Dante. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

He carefully lowered Dante to the ground. Dante was transfixed as he stared up at Wylie’s scaled form in wonder. “Who is he?” Beck asked when he finally noticed the kid.

“Roth’s fucking treasure,” Wylie growled bitterly. “Be gentle with him. He’s weak, and probably starving and thirsty. I need to help Dorian before he loses his shit.” Wylie went to leave but Dante’s hand suddenly clutched his.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Sighing, Wylie crouched down and smiled grimly. “Don’t be scared, okay? I’m going to be right back.”

“They have guns,” Dante whispered.

“It’s okay. I’m going to be fine. Beck’s a good guy and he’s going to watch you until I come back.”

Pursing his lips, Dante reluctantly released Wylie’s clawed hand. Beck held a hand out to the boy and smiled encouragingly until Dante tentatively took it and stepped closer.

Wylie could sense where Dorian previously sliced the barrier. He pushed through the thin tear faster and with much less pain than last time. Noise immediately roared around him when he crossed the threshold and Wylie was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t realized how the barrier muffled all the sound until on the other side.

Shaking himself, he headed towards the sorcerer alight with magic and fire. “Dorian! Stop!”

At the sound of his voice, Dorian whirled. “Wylie!”

Wylie couldn’t help but stop and stare. Dorian was backlit with orange and surrounded in flames. The wood around them had caught on fire from the sparks jumping off of his form. Peering closer, he found a pile of guns at his feet. Dorian had collected them one by one with simple flicks of his wrists.

He was fucking beautiful.

A smile lit his face and Wylie reached a hand out to Dorian. He’d taken on the entire fucking gang for him, and didn’t even break a sweat. Well, besides his burning clothes, anyways. Wylie’s dragon had stopped its aggressive stance just on seeing its mate’s amazing power.

“It’s not worth it, Dorian. They’re just a bunch of dumbass scum. Not worth the guilt you’ll feel if you lose control of your power. Not worth ending up in Daiker—”

Dorian’s eyes went wide. Gasping, Wylie stared down at his chest when he was pushed back a step. Two small, perfectly round holes dotted his flesh beneath shattered scales. Blood slowly trickled out of the wounds.

“Shit.” It didn’t hurt. Being shot was supposed to hurt. Wylie’s body shuddered and tilted sideways. Against his consent, he slammed down heavily to his knees. “Shit.” He lurched forward. His face hit the ground hard and everything went black.

Dorian couldn’t breathe. Wylie was bleeding out, with his blood thick and black as it poured down his beautiful scales. But for some reason he was the one who couldn’t breathe. He felt lightheaded and no longer attached to his body. All he could do was watch Wylie gasp for air on the ground.

There was an explosion as his magic reacted to another array of bullets. Dorian turned slowly and looked blankly at the men remaining. Twelve were left. Roth’s lime-green tracksuit was lost in the dark while his men formed a shield to keep him from being harmed. It didn’t matter. Once his magic finished its quickly spiraling climb, anyone within a mile would be dead.

The moment the thought hit, it was a dam breaking of the numb wall blocking his emotions. His shirt was char and the wind swept it away. Smoke billowed up with his power. Dorian raised his hands and spread them wide. He pulled his arms down in a sweeping motion and the men before him fell, pinned flat to the ground even as the fire continued to burn higher.

They could have been something. They could have been something amazing. It was why it was so fucking hard to let Wylie go. Wylie could have been his damn life if his fucking magic hadn’t gotten in the way of everything.

God, he hated it! Years a slave to his grandfather’s ideals just because he was born with magic. And once he found a way free—at the sacrifice of Alastor’s life—he allowed himself to forget. He chose his terrible, cursed magic over a real future. He picked power like his heartless family would have instead of the one he loved.

Now the option was gone. He had chosen wrong and there was no do-over.

“Just so you know, you’re all going to die.” Dorian’s voice was hoarse from the smoke. He stepped forward and stood over the closest of the men who struggled and failed to move. It was the one covered with tattoos who threatened to kill Wylie’s friend. No, Wylie’s boyfriend.

Sparks flew from his body. Dorian embraced the feeling of jealousy. It was easier to focus on than the hollowness threatening to consume his heart. Ever since the accident with Alastor, he did everything to keep his emotions in check. Now he was doing everything to let them flow free. He wanted them to die. He wanted to see everyone die and there was more than enough pain inside to make it happen.

Demon Arms





Wylie Doe has screwed himself once again with the help of his freakish demon arms. Sentenced to an academy for out of control paranormal boys, he finds himself surrounded by shifters, sorcerers, and halflings while facing an identity crisis. He has a dragon inside him that’s in love with a sorcerer he’s only just met.

Dorian Black is wealthy, cool, and extraordinarily powerful, but he hides a deadly secret. Drawn to Wylie and his alpha shifter ways, he can’t stop his dangerous attraction or the literal sparks that fly between them. Wylie’s everything Dorian’s been dreaming of but isn’t allowed to have.

When gangsters call Wylie out to face his past, he’s ready to take responsibility for his mistakes. Will Dorian finally make a stand for the boy he’s fallen for? Or will Wylie find out the hard way if his dragon scales can stop a downpour of bullets?

This novel contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language and violence. Expect sexual tension, animal behavior, mating of a very wet variety, angst, bloodlust, an institution filled with hot paranormal boys, first time experiences and some sweet sap near the end. All sexually active characters are 18+

101,000+ wrds, Published April 1, 2016.


Hey there, so just a few notes for those new to Demon Arms or to the website in general.

Usually free content is put behind a membership type wall to keep adult content (think 25+) from getting into the wrong hands. This story, and a few chapters of some other free stories are not behind that wall because the content is tame enough in my opinion. I’m a big believer in people having the ability to decide what they can handle. That said, I want to be as responsible as possible in what I put out into the world. So, to access the other free content on this site, you just need to sign up for a free membership. You get access to the rest of the freebies, including monthly free books.

A sequel to Demon Arms is being written, called Sorcerer Slayer, and there will be at least 5 books in the Paranormal Academy For Troubled Boys series once all is said and done. For those who can’t wait, you can read Sorcerer Slayer as I write it with a paid membership, otherwise you’ll see all that loveliness once it’s done and edited. Really hope you enjoy Demon Arms. These guys hold a special place in my heart.

<3 Sadie Sins


This story is over 100,000 words long and contains graphic language and sexually explicit content between men. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. This material is intended for adults only, and should not be viewed by anyone under the age of 18.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods unless for personal use. Feel free to print it out and read if you can’t handle squinting at the screen. Anything beyond, please contact me.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are all fictitious. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead, are all coincidental.



on August 20, 2016
Read this book NOW, you will not be disappointed. The chemistry between Wylie and Dorian so hot that you will need a cold shower. This book is so good that I have already re-read it about four or five times 😍, and I have no doubt that I will read it again and again.
on August 23, 2016
I sincerely hope there will be a continuation to this series, man it was awesome!
It was sexy, funny, had great characters, great character development and even though it was a case of (almost) insta-lust/love it worked freaking well for this story, because they still took their time.
I really really want to know what’s going to happen to Dante, Vince, Fox, Wylie and Dorian, as well as the rest of the academy…
Awesome, awesome story!!!!
on February 26, 2017
I chose this book through the instafreebie giveaway program and I love it! Dragons, sorcerers, gangsters, magic, shape shifters and romance! What a heady combination. Take Hogwarts and Harry Potter and go a step further. I loved the action, angst and danger thrown in with two guys so hot sparks fly and a total transformation occurs for the first time. You’ll rejoice for Dante, grieve for Leo and laugh with Vincent and Fox. I was so excited to see that this is the first in a series. I definitely wasn’t ready to leave The Academy forever. And now I won’t have to!

Hazy Summer Sale

If I sound sleepy… yeah. I am.

It’s bad outside. To the point my arms are starting to feel heavy. I was wondering how bad the allergy situation would have to be to overwhelm my fasting system. This bad, apparently.

Okay, I got a ton of $0.99 books for you guys. What else… Sorcerer Slayer is now up to scene #41. A petting turned straight into makeout session (Vince is just ridiculous <3) Intangible #9 is up and I’m hoping to have another Awakening this weekend once I get some new banners made. Cuz multitasking.

Hey, it’s been a month since I started the subscription site! Huzzah!

Anyone ever read Animorphs? It was this young adult series I used to read in… I want to say middle school. I revisited it the other day and was struck with how that was probably the series where I fell in love with shifters. And where I learned a serial format of writing. Funny the things that inspire us when we’re not even paying attention…

Could I write a young adult series? O_o I just don’t see me writing without there being sex everywhere.

Queer Romance is having a sale! Mostly $0.99, but a few higher prices thrown in too. Link below.

Smashwords is having a month long sale with free to discounted books! The categories vary and new books–they’re expecting hundreds–will be added throughout the month. It involves some searching but I’m sure there are gems to be found. Make sure your Adult and Erotica filters are on. XD Link below at the bottom.

Happy soon to be 4th. Sort of. Seriously, the idea of celebrating the independence of America with a racist, bigoted, fucktard in office doesn’t really thrill me. Is it patriotism or nationalism at this point? Keep waiting for the dinosaurs to go extinct only to have a new movement in regressivism sweep in. :/ There’s no going back.

I remember this book I read as a kid (I read a fucking lot XD) On The Flip Side. Technology had woken up a dimensional species of aliens who started attacking humans. The answer was the entire human race warped through willpower alone to another parallel world. No one remembered who they were but they were in a regressive existence without tech. That was the end. Like moving sideways and backward and forgetting all their experiences solved a thing. It was an annoying ending for a book–yeah, as a kid in elementary school I remember being pissed off. Who runs away from their planet after they fucked it up? What kind of lesson is that? It’s even more implausible in practice. You can’t go back and there is nowhere left to run. People need to learn to get along and deal with the mess they make.

Blah. Hope the weather treats you all well wherever you’re living. ^^ Don’t get allergies. Just don’t. It makes you grumpy and think about tons of books you once read.


Obey $0.99

In the dim lights of Aurora’s premier kink club waits an alpha eager to take control.

Billionaire Crawford Daniels has bedded submissives before, but he’s never given one his collar. That privilege is reserved for the man who’s strong-willed enough to tell him no, but whose pretty lips always say yes. Crawford wants more than a pet—he wants a partner. Someone to pamper and spoil.

Or punish.

Hidden behind case reports and paperwork waits an omega afraid to give it all up.

Owen Ellis has fought tooth and nail to rise above his omega status and find success. He’s educated, successful, and independent, but deep inside, he knows something is missing. A mistake during his teenage years has led to a lifetime of loneliness, and Owen refuses to surrender his heart again. He’s afraid to be hurt.

He’ll never let another alpha in.

But some rules are meant to be broken. When Owen meets Crawford and sparks fly, Owen has to decide if happiness is worth the risk. The choice is always his. He can walk away and embrace loneliness—

—or he can wear Crawford’s collar and obey.

Obey is a 42,000 word stand-alone novella packed full of steamy BDSM, MPreg, one of the hottest uses for an ice cube ever, and a happily ever after that proves in the end, love really does win.

Meow $0.99

Clair is a brilliant nineteen-year-old disowned for being gay…

Clair’s father found his Chrome search history. Now Clair is homeless, living in his car and dreaming about making use of his Harvard acceptance letter, or ungaying himself to make his life easier. His only friend is his cat Linus. In an emergency, Clair has no choice but to take Linus to Blake Jorgensen, the rage-filled veterinarian everybody warned him about.

Blake is an ultra-successful veterinarian with a lonely heart and a dirty mouth…

Everybody knows: Blake Jorgensen isn’t a nice guy. His clinic is called Pussy-Hound, and the building looks more like a strip club than a vet’s office. Blake rains profanities on clients who don’t take proper care of their animals, his office music is Marilyn Manson, and his assistant is a nervous handlebar-mustachioed dude named Catsmeat. But mostly, Blake is profoundly lonely. He knows that no man in Amelia Island will put up with a veterinarian who works fifteen-hour days and is singularly devoted to helping animals.

Their first meeting is a mess. Blake dresses down Clair, while Clair worries about what a guy named Catsmeat will do to Linus. But Blake is the only person willing to help not only Linus recover from tularemia, but Clair recover from his loneliness and uncertainty.

Clair can’t stop admiring Blake’s ripped body, his professional dedication, and his wacky humor — while Blake is in love with a lanky young man who’s smart, wise, caring, and handsome way beyond his nineteen years.

Blake offers Clair a room at his beachfront mansion, with absolutely no obligations. Clair assumes Blake expects a little something-something, but Blake pushes him away. If Clair can’t accept Blake’s secret, he and Blake might remain nothing more than housemates.

Meow is a gay romantic comedy with a feel-good HEA, copious breath mints, a profanity-activated feeder, lots of laughs, and a whiny cat named Paul Lynde. No cliffhanger, no cheating, and no sad kitties.

Rough Riders $0.99

Threesomes With Bad Bays Is Sure To Add Some Excitement In Mitchell’s Sex Life

Mitchell didn’t really have much excitement in his life until his friends convinced him to sign up for a dating site. He expected boring dates with men who just wanted to get in his pants like he’d always had, but when a pair of big muscular boys sent him a message, he knew he had to reply.

Now, he has to balance his old life of being an innocent man in a boring job, with the excitement of being the love-toy for a pair of hunks, and not just that, but bear shifters! Keeping their secret, when disaster strikes, he has to decide; will he go beyond just having a bit of fun and become their mate?

How to REALLY Self-Publish Erotica $2.99

Writing stories that make people hard doesn’t have to be hard!

Why are so many people getting into writing and self publishing erotica? According to the New York Times, the porn industry brings in $10 to $14 billion dollars a year. You can tap into that income, too!

What about E. L. James, author of the hit erotica series Fifty Shades of Grey? As of late July in 2012, the author had sold 15 million copies of her books in the United States and Canada alone. That’s why so many people are getting into this business.

Making money with erotica isn’t as easy as people make it seem, though. That’s why you need this guide.
Buy this quick how-to guide now and start earning money!

What are the best stock photos? How big should a cover be? Where should the font go? How and where do I advertise my stories? What should my stories even be about?

How often have you heard, “Nobody makes money from self-publishing”? It’s coming from the mouths of authors, agents, publishers and editors out of ignorance… or malice. Don’t fall for their lies!

If you’re looking to jump-start your career in writing, though, self-publishing is the average person’s solution. The problem is, the information you need is scattered all over the internet. And frankly, the money is best in erotica, and money is ultimately the bottom line between you and writing full-time.

Demon Arms $0.99

Wylie Doe has screwed himself once again with the help of his freakish demon arms. Sentenced to an academy for out of control paranormal boys, he finds himself surrounded by shifters, sorcerers, and halflings while facing an identity crisis. He has a dragon inside him that’s in love with a sorcerer he’s only just met.

Dorian Black is wealthy, cool, and extraordinarily powerful, but he hides a deadly secret. Drawn to Wylie and his alpha shifter ways, he can’t stop his dangerous attraction or the literal sparks that fly between them. Wylie’s everything Dorian’s been dreaming of but isn’t allowed to have.

When gangsters call Wylie out to face his past, he’s ready to take responsibility for his mistakes. Will Dorian finally make a stand for the boy he’s fallen for? Or will Wylie find out the hard way if his dragon scales can stop a downpour of bullets?

This novel contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language and violence. Expect sexual tension, animal behavior, mating of a very wet variety, angst, bloodlust, an institution filled with hot paranormal boys, first time experiences and some sweet sap near the end. All sexually active characters are 18+

City Howls 9


The luxurious lounge that Frey kept as an office in The Den had become host to a messy event. Whatever hangups that may have existed in any of the werewolves that Frey had called in to help service the unbearably needy Sage quickly dispersed the moment the gangsters caught the boy’s overwhelming sex scent flooding the room. Clothing had been discarded and forgotten minutes in, the only one showing embarrassment being the green-eyed boy gasping prettily for the men to take him. In a hope to preserve his desk and the paperwork still waiting for him, Frey had left the slender Sage on the lush leather couch by the window, the L-shaped furniture more than large enough to handle the five men trying to give the aching boy the relief he needed. And Sage was in need of relief. It was as if every orgasm he had only grew the insane heat in him further, the boy’s cries hoarse and tinged with desperation.

“Please… God, please.” Sage gripped the back of the couch, pushing his face against the lush, dark leather while Kyle knelt behind him, their knees sinking into the material as they moved together. Sage could feel the other men’s eyes on him—they hadn’t stopped staring since they had arrived—and fought back his blush. He was naked, covered in cum and painfully self-conscious of the fact that the men Frey had brought to help were all growing tired while he was still aching for more. He couldn’t understand what was wrong with him. Even now, even with Kyle buried deep inside him, the kind blond man thrusting in and out of his clenching hole, he still needed more. He wasn’t sure if the feeling was ever going to end, but god, he needed it to stop. There was no way to live like this, forever begging for a thick dick inside of him, claiming him, filling him.

At least they had all been really nice about it. Besides Frey and his insistence that Sage was his pet of some sort, none of the other men had said anything to suggest he was theirs. He supposed it made sense; If anyone were to own anything, it would be the pack leader of the werewolf gang, not the men that answered to him.

Kyle groaned softly in his ear, the man grinding into him hard while trying to stave off his climax for as long as possible. He had feathery blond hair, his bangs dripping sweat onto his handsome face. Kyle had kind chocolate brown eyes and a really nice feeling dick. It was long but not nearly as thick and overwhelming as Frey’s monster cock. Kyle fucked him gently, his slick flesh rubbing again and again over the gland inside Sage that had swollen the longer he’d been taken, each touch gifting him pleasure in unbearable levels. Sage clenched around the length fucking him tighter, knowing the man was going to come and wanting to get as much of his wet seed from him as he could.

“That’s it…God, you get tight, Sage.” Kyle pressed his lips hard to the boy’s pale throat, Sage whimpering and turning back to meet his heated gaze.

“Teeth. Use your teeth.”

“No,” Frey growled from the other side of the couch. “No biting my bitch.” The pack leader was sitting back on the couch, glaring between the monitors that showed him every angle of his club and the show of Sage being taken. The other men were on the floor, kneeling around the green-eyed boy to wait and watch. Frey had been observing his men with interest, curious to find they had turned into almost supplicants to the pup’s needs. Every time a pause came in the fucking, the men would descend on Sage, licking him from top to bottom. It was almost ritualistic. Frey had never seen werewolves act in such a way before and he was wondering just what the fuck a shifter bitch did for the pack dynamic besides flash his pink hole and beg to be fucked.

Sage groaned, turning his pleading eyes to the golden-eyed werewolf. Frey sighed after a moment, exhaling a drag of his cigarette before standing. The pack leader’s nude form rippled with muscle, his golden skin marred by soft blond body hair and a network of white shimmery scars. He was impossible to look away from, Sage’s eyes fixed on him as the man approached.

“Sweetness, you don’t want werewolves to bite you,” Frey explained patiently. “It puts ideas in their heads. Ideas like they might just have a claim on a tight, slutty little hole like you.” He let his gaze drift down the boy, Kyle’s hard body wrapped around Sage’s back, cock stretching the brunette wide where cum was slowly dribbling free.

Sage whimpered, extending his tongue out until Frey pressed his fingers to the boy’s lips. Kyle’s thrusts grew more erratic, the man grunting even as he kissed Sage’s throat lightly. The brunette moaned, arching when he felt Kyle release spurt after spurt of cum inside him. It only added to the collection filling him, dripping and dirtying him in ways he had never imagined. Sage gripped the couch hard, pushing back until the pressure in his passage grew too much and he came with a choked cry.

His eyes barely open, dark lashes wet and tangled, Sage looked up at Frey pleadingly as his orgasm faded. “Please, Frey? Please… God, I need to feel something on my neck. And… And something in my mouth,” he added with a blush, licking his tongue over his lips. “I need more.”

Frey glared down at the boy with his golden eyes for a silent minute. He took another drag of his cigarette, tilting his head to the cocoa-skinned young man watching the exchange. “Jared, can you honestly tell me you won’t try to run off with this delicious fuck toy if I let you sink your fangs into his neck?” Frey asked bluntly.

Jared inhaled sharply, his violet eyes fixing to Sage’s, the aching boy flushing red. Jared had a really nice dick and used it nearly as well as Frey. Sage had liked how strong he had been, big yet considerate. Jared had held him in his lap while he had fucked him up and down on his long length and Sage was ready to feel it again.

Jared looked over to Frey, not flinching from his glare. “Boss, you know I’d never challenge you over anything. Not just because I’d lose—And fuck, I would lose. The kid isn’t meant to be claimed. He needs a fucking pack just to get him laid.”

That Sage did, Frey’s mind assessing as he nodded his consent for Jared to take Kyle’s place. Jared didn’t right away, first pulling Sage down the couch, forcing the brunette’s slender thighs open so he could lap long licks at his cum-soaked crack. Sage mewled desperately, going limp and giving in as the other men leaned over him, Frey watching as the pup was licked thoroughly by his crew.

Fuck, but the kid was doing something to them. Something that made Frey want to get down and have a few swipes of his own at that beautiful, luminescent flesh, drive his tongue and then his dick between the boy’s gasping red lips. Sage was meant to be fucked, adored, cherished. What the fuck did werewolves understand about that when most only knew how to kill and violate?

Snarling to himself, Frey stepped over to his ashtray, crushing his cigarette out. He had picked these men for this task for a reason. They had been men that had started out kind and then remained so even when infected by the cursed infliction. None of them had chosen to be changed, some coming from worse backgrounds than others. Kyle, the sweet blond slab of toned muscle had been beaten repeatedly to the cusp of death for over half a year. He had been the weakest of the pack he had never wanted to join before Frey had killed his former pack leader and absorbed the men with enough humanity to continue on. The cursed too crazed to be of use, Frey had killed. He didn’t need that kind of shit—The world didn’t need that kind of shit. If a werewolf didn’t have his fucking soul then he wasn’t worth the air he breathed or the blood he spilled.

Tony, the pack’s newest member, had come to Frey seeking asylum after being attacked just two moons ago by a crazed werewolf. He had woken up in a hospital to find he was infected and that his new alpha was expecting him to join their gang of insane cursed once he went about murdering the doctors and nurses that had kept Tony alive first. Frey had given the young man the protection he needed and Tony had turned out to be a social worker, of all fucking things. Frey still wasn’t sure what the fuck he was going to do with a social worker in his gang but he had ended up with seemingly even more useless members, considering Yapper had been one of those jobless survivalists before he had been attacked by a werewolf when hiking. Sure, the latino could build a fire in five minutes straight without the use of magic and track the lightest of sure-footed doe, but Frey had yet to find any of it useful in the fucking concrete jungle of Dogtowne. Thankfully the guy was sharp for security and could scent a cursed or shifter three miles away. There was always a use for someone.

Even a desperate bitch.

Frey’s nostrils flared when he heard Sage cry out, the boy gasping from the feel of teeth on his neck. He stepped back to the couch, leaning over the side to make sure Jared hadn’t drawn blood. He hadn’t. Jared was one of his more controlled werewolves. Not as sweet as the other three, but even though the young man had the crazed wolf howling in his head louder than most, Jared chose to be human. Sage was tight in the black-skinned man’s lap, riding his cock while Jared nipped small, controlled bites at the boy’s throat and neck. It was clearly what the pup needed, Sage arching and coming again with trembling limbs after barely five minutes since his last orgasm. The kid was a fucking faucet of cum.

Yapper went to take Sage’s mouth, pushing his flushed dick to the boy’s parted lips while a groaning Tony nuzzled down between the tangle of legs, licking at the divinely scented seed the boy had released. Frey watched impassively, fighting back the heat inside of him that wanted to pull the small brunette from the group and fuck him hard, possessively until the boy begged him to stop. It was just the crazy wolf, the one that he had learned to distinguish in most situations, even ones where he was unreasonably horny.

Frey instead sat on the couch, glancing at the monitors to make sure nothing was amiss in the club. Taylor was still safe under Howie’s watchful eye and no one was making trouble in the bar. It was starting to get around to the time when if trouble was going to start, it would be arriving soon. He was hoping the green-eyed slut would be done by then. At least filled with enough cock to stop his damn sex scent.

Frey looked over when Jared gave a grunt, his eyes caught on the way the cocoa-skinned man’s face contorted in pleasure when Sage’s tight passage milked his dick. He had to admit, although he had fucked and bitten all his pack members at least once, Frey had rarely indulged in much else afterward. Something he was seeing had been a clear crime now that he watched his men in action with the pretty Sage. His pack was powerful with hard, healthy bodies and handsome, if not slightly fierce, faces. They were perfect specimens of masculinity that Frey had managed to miss because he had been staring too long at ledgers and numbers.

His eyes slid down, finding Tony leaning against the bottom of the couch while panting softly. The young man was particularly beautiful, his midnight black hair short, bangs teasing into his strange, yellow eyes that glowed with compassion. The change had put a layer of muscle on the man that stretched his pale skin in all the right places even if his shy demeanor and sweet smile still made him seem more victim than cursed.

“Tony,” Frey called. Although his voice was pitched low, the young man responded almost instantly, turning from the show of Sage being taken to immediately crawl to his pack leader. The man was lovely, his bangs obscuring one of his eyes, the man gazing up at him full of trust and an eagerness to please. Yes, Tony might not have had a background in business or any experience in defending himself or others but the man did have some useful qualities, including those lush lips of his.

Frey spread his knees apart, Tony inhaling slowly and slipping in between his muscular thighs without the need of further invitation. The brunette kissed up the inside of Frey’s leg, slicking the flesh wet, licking and smoothing his tongue over the golden hair fuzzing there and sucking small, eager touches. Frey exhaled heavily when Tony reached his balls, the brunette taking them into his mouth with only the slightest of hesitation, caressing the smooth sac with his lips and creating light suction. Tony slowly continued up Frey’s shaft with a similar technique, using soft kisses and a lapping tongue. His movements were tentative out of inexperience more than hesitation, Frey having little to complain about as he watched the young man worship his cock with thorough, dazed movements.

Frey was hard—had not been able to soften since Sage’s scent had clouded the room in its heady perfume—and the feel of Tony’s hot, silky mouth wetting over the head of his cock was an agonizing relief to the pressure that had been building. Frey gripped the side of the man’s head, Tony’s glowing eyes meeting his a moment before the man opened wider in response, allowing himself to be forced down to take Frey’s dick deeper into his mouth. Frey was careful—blowjobs were a bit of a hazard with his size. He barely got halfway in without hitting the back of Tony’s tight throat. Frey combed through the man’s dark locks while Tony struggled to take him further, gurgling around his cock while whimpering in need.

Humming, Frey tilted the man’s face up, Tony’s lips clinging to the tip of his dick even as he met his questioning gaze. “You need a cock to ride, Tony?” Frey asked, sliding his hand down the trail of saliva that had slipped from the man’s parted lips, moving down his chin and throat. To the best of his memory, Tony had professed to be completely straight all the way up to when Frey had reamed the man’s tight, virgin hole as part of his initiation and promise to protect the young man. Frey rarely took liberties from the reluctant of his crew outside of their claiming. There were just far too many willing, for him to press the matter with those resistant. But Tony was moaning around his dick with a desperate keen that Frey was certain to mean the man was begging to be fucked nearly as hard as the pup gasping right next to them was.

Groaning, Tony released Frey’s slick tip with a wet pop, pushing his face into his pack leader’s large hand. He licked his tongue out, whimpering when Frey moved his thumb to his bottom lip and teased back and forth.“Come up here, pretty eyes,” Frey murmured huskily, pulling the brunette up by his chin.

Tony readily climbed into his lap, straddling the battle-scarred werewolf and pressing his damp, hot flesh tight to his pack leader’s, their dicks rigid and sticky between them. He licked his lips, his lashes fluttering shut when Frey gave him a wicked grin and wrapped his arm around his waist, keeping him from escaping. “Frey, I…”

“Hush. Do you think I can’t smell it on you?” Frey ran his palm down the back of the man’s thigh, sliding up to push two fingers against his entrance. He cast a spell, Tony giving a gasp to feel stretched and lubed in an instant. Frey still stroked fingers deep into the man’s passage, wanting him to get used to the sensation of being filled. He was certain Tony had not felt the urge to indulge this particular activity since he had claimed him months ago, this thought made more evident when Tony trembled and wrapped his arms around him tight.

The brunette moaned lowly, burying his face against the werewolf leader’s neck while his entrance was filled with merciless, deep plunges of Frey’s thick fingers. When Tony started to push back into the thrusts, gasping with every touch to his prostate, Frey relented, pulling his fingers free from his clenching passage.

Tony whimpered when he felt the pack leader’s cock, hot and thick, push to the rim of his entrance. “Just… God, will it hurt again?” He dared to ask, tears stinging in his eyes as he remembered his claiming.

Frey brushed his lips softly to Tony’s throat, crooning softly. “No teeth, baby. No bite. You’re going to like being fucked, Tony, I promise.” With Sage’s bitch scent so thick in the air, he was pretty sure he could have half murdered his sweet, buttercup-eyed wolf and Tony would love every second of it.

Frey gripped the man by his ass, spreading his cheeks while slowly pulling Tony down onto his cock. Tony groaned, clutching his shoulders desperately as he was filled, his moans rising up with each new inch. Frey could feel every clench, every squeeze from the young man as Tony dripped tears and opened to him. “Good boy… Fucking good, tight boy,” Frey growled, holding Tony tight in his arms while the brunette whined and took his cock deeper.

“Too much,” Tony groaned, swallowing around his gasps. “Boss—Fuck, I c-can’t.”

“You already are, pretty. Just hold on a little longer.” With a growl, Frey pulled the man flush to his body, grabbing his muscular ass and fucking up into him with slow, sure pushes. Tony’s wail turned into a moan, desperate sounds spilling from him with every stroke Frey filled him with that also managed to hit his prostate. Frey drew out his thrusts even slower, Tony already there, already about to burst from the overload of sensation of being fucked by his oversized cock.

Claws scratching into the blond’s back, Tony couldn’t hold on any longer, his body jerking in rough, gasping jolts as he came all while his passage tried to push out the dick impaling him. Frey groaned as he felt the man collapse against him, Tony’s head hanging limply, the brunette gasps loud as Frey continued to drive into him with unhurried, tormenting strokes.

Frey slipped a hand between the crush of their bodies, finding Tony’s cum and tasting it. He pushed the rest to the brunette’s mouth, Tony opening with a weak moan, licking his seed down and accepting Frey’s tongue when the pack leader kissed him deep and bruising. Once he was released, he slumped back against Frey, his eyes closed as he tried to get his shaking body to ride out the continuous rhythm of his leader fucking him.

Frey turned his head at Sage’s cry, the boy’s face twisted in delicious agony as he came again with Jared spent and deep inside him. Yapper’s cum was still wet on the brunette’s lips and face, dripping a white mess. “You have enough yet, pup?” Frey asked, honestly not certain what answer he would get. The boy seemed both exhausted and yet unwilling or incapable of stopping.

Sage looked up at the werewolf leader imploringly, the boy covered in cum, dripping sweat and damn near everything else. “Please?” He rasped out, gnawing on his lower lip as he looked Frey over. “Y-You’re so big. If you stayed in longer, it might be enough.”

Frey gave another thrust into Tony’s passage, the brunette whimpering from the feel of him stretching him so wide. He had planned to fuck the young man’s perfectly fine hole until completion but had little issue in doing the same in Sage’s instead. “Sorry, sexy,” he murmured in apology to Tony, giving a parting nip to his lush bottom lip before lifting him off his dick and helping him to stand. Tony swayed, his legs buckling, Frey forced to catch him or have the sweet man fall. Kyle helped Tony kneel and rest against the couch, Frey’s gaze lingering too long as he watched the blond man hold the gasping Tony. Fuck, the scent was definitely getting to him. He’d be demanding his men fuck each other soon if things didn’t stop.

Sage crawled into Frey’s lap, the boy’s wet limbs slipping on the leather couch as he crossed the space. Frey lifted him with ease, adjusting him so that the brunette’s slender legs were wrapped tight around his waist.

“You should stay with us, sweetness,” Frey murmured, his eyes closing when Sage’s tight entrance began to envelop his dick. Hell but the boy kept getting so tight no matter what they did to him. It just wasn’t normal, although extremely enjoyable.

Moans falling from his lips unchecked, Sage couldn’t find a way to answer. Frey was just so large, filling him so tight, reaching so impossibly deep inside him until it was all he knew. It wasn’t until he was fully impaled on Frey’s large cock, his slim body completely dominated inside and out by the muscular werewolf leader, that Sage could remember why he couldn’t stay. “My b-brother will be angry if I’m out late. I… I need to get back home.”

Frey huffed, rolling his eyes. “I can take care of you, pup. Better than anyone else in this shit city.”

“Corey wouldn’t like that… Doesn’t like werewolves.” Sage whimpered, shifting his hips, gripping Frey’s heavy biceps and getting him deeper. “Oh… Oh, you’re so big inside me. So big. Need it… Fucking need it big.”

Frey let the boy rock himself on his length, his eyes drawn to the scars littering the brunette’s back. He didn’t bother suggesting the boy stay with him again. It was no longer an option he was willing to give the little pup. Not after the hours of entertainment the boy had already provided. Not after seeing Sage turn four grown men into his personal sex toys with nothing but his scent and slender, sexy form.

“Harder,” Sage whimpered, nipping lightly at Frey’s shoulder. “Move, Frey. Fuck me harder.”

Frey ran smoldering eyes over the boy’s beautiful face, grinning fiercely at him before smacking his hand down on the swell of Sage’s perky ass. Sage gasped, moaning lowly and jolting forward as pain and pleasure filled him. Yeah, he had little interest in letting his new slutty bitch go anytime soon.