Watching the boy disappear around the corner, Heller breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Only to groan, Sage’s scent still lingering, the kid’s sweat on his skin and musk dripping from his still straining erection. He struggled with the wolf inside him, the creature wanting to follow the boy, run him down, drag him away and have him as much as he could for as long as possible. He belonged with them—Whatever Sage was, he belonged with shifters.
Heller shook his head fiercely, growling under his breath. He tried to straighten his clothes, eyes lighting to the brick where the boy’s cum still lingered. He summoned his coat, slipping a vial from one of his pockets, which he then filled with the milky liquid. He sniffed it, groaning under his breath as he quickly placed the stopper in the vial. Then, because his head was full of the heat still and the young man’s seed smelled like some divine elixir, Heller knelt and ran his tongue slowly over the coarse brick, tasting Sage’s release and drinking it down.
He glared again at the opening to the alley the boy had escaped out of, wondering how close he lived. It would be nothing to follow, track his scent, find him among the rot and trash of the disgusting place. The kid was too vulnerable in a shithole like this, his green eyes far too wide, face too goddamn pretty to be around the freaks that lived in the Wastes. And his body; that slim, slender, clear skinned body. Heller growled, his wolf demanding he find the young man and take him. Sage had no parents, no protection, and he smelled… God, he smelled like bitch, and his wolf knew that it was important to protect such a rare shifter.
Except, of all the bitches Heller had come across, none had smelled like Sage. Their scents had not been as strong, not as maddening. Heller had never tried to run one down in any form. Maybe it was prison—Maybe his last two years stuck behind bars with the dregs of society had fucked up his self-control.
Forced to pretend to be a human so no tainted werewolf would discover and kill him had taken a toll. Escaping the life sentence of a crime he hadn’t committed had drained him even more, Heller on the last leg of his week-long escape. Vale had finally found a way to get him a route out, but Heller had to wonder if it was too late. He was clearly fucked in the head if some sweet-faced, scrawny-assed kid was doing it for him now.
He was wasting time. He should be heading to the last location of his pack, trying to get to safety before the authorities or the many cursed humans that lived in the city scented him and tried to kill him. The longer he stayed, the more he was risking his life. That he had gotten caught up with the boy at all had been madness. But Heller couldn’t pull himself away, staring angrily at the mouth of the alley, hating the delicious green-eyed brat that seemed to have caught him in some impossible spell.
He was one of theirs, his wolf kept insisting. Sage belonged with shifters. But Heller could not trust himself to be able to bring the boy safely to his pack unharmed. Fuck, he couldn’t trust himself to not just find him and fuck him until they both died of starvation. It wasn’t normal and couldn’t be approached the way his body and his wolf were howling for.
would go to Vale. His pack leader would know how to deal with the situation. And once he got a whiff of the kid’s seed, Heller would know if he was going crazy or if the kid really did smell like some irresistible siren of sex.
Decided, Heller deliberately tore his gaze from the alley entrance, pushing himself to his feet and heading north, back the way he had come. He would have no problem finding this place again, the entire incident glowing in his mind brighter than any memory he’d ever had. Once reaching familiar territory, he set off on a western trek through the city, each breath growing freer of Sage’s maddening scent.
Twenty minutes after leaving the alley, Heller almost felt like a civilized human being again, able to trust his wolf enough to banish his clothes and shift to his faster, four-legged form. The animal wanted to return and find the brunette but without Sage’s scent, it was much easier to divert the simpler mind. Heller raced down to the edge of the city, seeking out the thick forest that surrounded Dogtowne and housed the many packs of shifters.
“Where the hell have you been, shithead? I thought you were fucking werewolf food.”
Sage stopped dead in the doorway of their apartment kitchen, eyes widening. His brother was home, filling the cramped space with all five foot ten of his angry, skin-head, drunk-ass form. Corey had his bat, the one with the nails and razorblades sticking out, held loosely in his hand resting on the ground.
Could he tell? What did someone look like after having sex? Could Corey tell he had just been fucked by a shifter only minutes ago? Or a wolf earlier? Corey had always said if Sage ever got off, he’d know and he’d be fucking sorry. Sage knew he had cuts on his back, knew the shifter had bitten and sucked at his neck. His face was bright red—What if Corey could tell?
Heart hammering in his chest, Sage forced himself to stay calm, trying not to flinch while he thought of a reasonable lie. Corey would kill him. He had no doubt. It wouldn’t matter if Sage was his brother—Hell, that would somehow justify it even more to his older, and completely psychotic sibling.
“Some guy caught me stealing from him,” Sage whispered, eyes darting from the bat to Corey’s angry face. “I h-had to run through the heap. Was hiding for ages. Thought he was going to shoot me.”
“So you got something, right?” Corey finally answered, his glower lightening slightly. “Cus I would fucking kill for a fucking meal right now.” He slammed the bat down on the floor, one of the rotted vinyl tiles shattering into gray pieces. Sage winced, fingers slipping into his back jean’s pocket. He had managed to pick a wallet that night, but it hadn’t been much. Enough hopefully for Corey to drink away and leave him the fuck alone.
“Shit—Twenty bucks? You might as well have stayed out there. The fucking werewolves would have given me more to feed you to them,” Corey said with a snarl. He pocketed the money, glaring at Sage. “You smell like shit. Fucking wash up. I’ll be with the guys at the club. Wasting my fucking night waiting for you. Fucking ungrateful…” He slammed out the apartment door, muttering angrily.
Sage held his breath, listening as his violent brother made his way loudly down the stairs. He didn’t relax until Corey was smashing the metal garbage can in the alley on his way to see his friends. Sage breathed a deep sigh of relief, his entire body folding forward, knees going weak.
He ended up on the floor, trying not to scream. What was he going to do? How long until Corey figured it out? He had been distracted now, wanting to get to the club. What happened when he was fucked up on drugs with nothing to think about but where his little brother had been the entire night?
Corey hated Sage’s friend Taylor enough, hated that he got fed by someone other than his brother even though Corey hated sharing and having to be responsible. He was territorial, even in his negligence. He knew Taylor was interested in the werewolves. Maybe he’d assume Sage was running with them—Not much better, but slightly better than being fucked by a shifter.
Groaning, Sage pushed himself up off the ground, stumbling towards the bathroom. He needed to get clean. Even Corey could smell him—Although, thank god he hadn’t had the reaction to his scent like the shifter had. Had the man been lying? Just some weird, fucked up ruse to get in his pants and not apologize after? Who the hell would do that?
His jeans were ruined but he couldn’t toss them. He didn’t have money for clothes, didn’t have money for anything. Corey might have him out stealing after school, but it didn’t mean Sage got to keep any of it. Corey would know if he did. He always fucking knew.
The bathroom light didn’t work. It hadn’t days into when they moved in. So Corey could know if Sage was touching himself. His brother was so fucked up. Sage wasn’t sure exactly what Corey’s deal was, except that he ran with a bunch of perverts that liked to take pictures of girls on the toilet. If any girl had been dumb enough to let Corey touch them, Sage didn’t think it was on purpose. Hence, all of Corey’s time spent at the strip club. Why he obsessed over Sage and what he did with his dick made no sense, but then, Corey was deranged. Even before their mom and dad had been killed, his brother had used to talk about Sage being dirty.
Sage shook his head, leaving the bathroom door open so that the hallway light shone in and then stripped quickly. His muscles were shaking, his limbs heavy, back burning from the wolf scratches. His hole throbbed with his heartbeat, a sore, dull ache that kept reminding him of what had happened. He breathed out slowly, trying to will the feeling away.
Maybe Corey could tell even all the way back then? Maybe his brother had known deep inside that Sage was a total freak. That was why he got so angry at him, beat him, touched him; Corey knew there was something wrong inside Sage and wanted to make it stop.
The water spray in the small shower was lukewarm, Sage quickly scrubbing himself red under the stream of liquid. He had to be quick just in case Corey decided to come back for some reason. Had to be quick because sometimes it just felt too good and he got hard, and when Corey noticed he hurt him. The cuts on his back stung when soap and water hit them, but not in the right way. Sage whimpered, gasping at the sensation, his dick twitching.
Shit… shit. This was bad. Everything was just feeling so good even when he knew it could get him killed. What was happening to him?
Sage had spent the majority of his young adult life trying not to think about the things he dreamed about. Some days had been harder than others, waking from vivid rushes of heated flesh and fur and unable to push it away until Corey found and beat him long enough to make the good feelings stop. Now he was fighting more than a dream. He was fighting a memory, a memory that was still alive in his body. Every inch of flesh Sage touched while washing was trying to remind him what had happened. Almost like his body wanted to relive it… Go out and find it again.
Sage groaned, the muscles of his thighs and ass flexing. He needed to clean inside. He was dripping with seed, and the only way to make sure Corey never found out was to clean it all. He listened intently, waiting for the telltale signs of his brother sneaking in the door, muttering lowly about making sure he wasn’t being a freak. But there was nothing. Only the neighbors arguing, the pipes rattling, a television blaring through the wall of the small shower stall.
Bottom lip caught between his teeth, Sage took a handful of soap and carefully pushed two slick fingers deep inside his hole. He bit back a cry, his entire body coming alive, fire rushing over his skin, muscles tightening, the ache flaring so strong he thought he might fall. He stood braced on the wall whimpering lowly, watching his dick grow hard and needy. The water streaming down his back was electric, every touch tingling him, reminding him of the feel of fur on his back, on his thighs and ass. He wanted it again.
Sage could feel it still inside, wet and hot, his slick channel clenching tight around his fingers. The wolf had filled him so much, had put so much of its seed inside him. Like he was one of its kind instead of some demented boy living in a trash heap. But shifters were pretty, were special and had power and riches. Sage was not any of those things.
“Oh fuck… Oh,” Sage groaned, pushing his fingers deeper, then pulling them back. It felt so good. He needed it so much. Even if Corey walked in at that moment, he didn’t think he could stop. Resting his forehead on the cracked tile wall, he began thrusting his fingers slowly in and out of his aching hole, the soap tingling and making things feel so slick. “Don’t stop,” he mumbled heatedly. “Just need a little more. Need it bigger… thicker. God, it was so good when it was thick. So crazy good.”
Sage came suddenly, his fingers brushing something deep inside that made his body jerk in wild pleasure and his vision dim. He whimpered as he looked down, his cock jetting more seed on the tile wall. God, he was so fucked up. He needed to find a way to stop this or Corey was going to catch him. Catch him and kill him.
Wiping the cum away with the flat of his palm, Sage washed his hand off beneath the shower spray, refusing to pull his fingers free from his clenching hole just yet. It felt so good having something inside him. It had felt good, the wolf stuck deep for so long, cum streaming into him, filling him again and again. The shifter had known. Had given it to him when he needed it so bad.
Sage wished Heller was there now. The man had been big inside him, strong and thick. He didn’t even care if the shifter thought he was a slut. What did it matter, just as long as he filled him again?
Sage stood under the shower spray until the water turned cold and his fingers had pruned. He wasn’t sure if he had gotten all the cum out of him, but he couldn’t dare stay any longer. Corey didn’t have enough money to stay long at the club. Hopefully, his crew of perverts and punks would go off to torment strangers for the rest of the night. He left his clothes soaking in the bottom of the shower, dressed in a thin pair of pajama bottoms and promptly fell asleep on his sheetless mattress.
His body was exhausted from everything he had been through, especially of all his fear. He slept sounder than he had in weeks, sleep an absolute escape from the anxious thoughts racing in his mind.