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XX 68,000+ wrds, serial, paranormal, humanoid demons, sorcerers, and bondage. Published: February 4, 2017
X-XX 50,000+ wrds, serial, paranormal, humanoid demons, sorcerers, and bondage. Published: January 28, 2017
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It was dark when Sage woke, his eyes blinking in the dim light of the unfamiliar room as he tried to catch his bearings. He was on Frey’s big leather couch. Taylor was sitting next to him, the boy looking down at him with a worried expression. The blond boy kept wrinkling his nose, breathing through his mouth like he was trying to keep a smell out. Sage couldn’t smell anything unusual, just the clinging scent of Frey and the other men that had kindly fucked him to sleep.
“You okay?” Taylor asked, looking like he wanted to say more but holding himself back.
Sage looked around the room silently, finding no one else there. But there were all the screens on the wall and although they were currently shut off, it made him wonder if there was a camera in the office as well. He glanced down, relieved to see someone had dressed him while he slept. He didn’t really know what Taylor would think of him… What his friend would think of what he had done. He didn’t really want to talk about it if only for that fear alone.
Taylor ran his hand through his blond locks, looking away and then back at his prone friend. “Did they fix it, Sage? Did they remove the curse at least?”
Sage shook his head, forcing himself to sit up and face reality. His eyes closed involuntarily, his backside throbbing from all it had been through. He felt half numb, nearly buzzing in every cell, a strange, warm tingle replacing the normal feel of his skin. It was almost comforting, Sage sinking into the feeling while avoiding his friend’s eye. “I don’t think they can fix it,” he finally whispered. “I think… I think I’m going to be like this forever, Tayls.” He tried not to think what that might mean, his chest and throat tightening with something that was threatening to turn into a sob or scream.
Taylor bit his lip, tugging at Sage’s hand until the boy stood. “We don’t know that for sure.” He didn’t want to say Frey could be using Sage, that he might say just about anything to be able to have access to his beautiful friend whenever he wanted. He wasn’t sure if Frey was the type to be like that, but even as a ‘good’ werewolf, he was still a werewolf. It didn’t seem beyond the scope of even a slightly assholic normal human, nevermind a shrewd, ruthless werewolf pack leader.
“It might get better,” Taylor offered quietly. “Maybe you’ll grow out of it the same way you woke up with it. You don’t really know.”
Sage shrugged, not sure of anything at the moment. Right then, he only had the small hope that being in the Wastes would protect him. The smell was so bad there; shifters and werewolves all avoided the place. As long as he wasn’t found and scented by either group, he had hope that the feeling wouldn’t flare up crazy in him again. As long as he didn’t dream… didn’t remember.
“Are you okay?” Taylor asked when the slight brunette swayed unsteadily.
“Yeah. God, I feel good,” Sage mumbled, sleep heavy in his voice. He rested his forehead on Taylor’s shoulder, sighing softly.
“You… You wanted it, right?” Taylor asked tentatively, worry pinching his delicate features. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
Sage couldn’t tell his friend how he had basically refused to let any of the men go until he had gotten as much as he could from them. How his body had demanded so much cum and thickness from them that he had feared they wouldn’t be able to walk once he was done. All he could do was raise his head, fixing Taylor with a direct look. “I wanted it, Tayls. All of it.”
Taylor swallowed, looking away from Sage’s glowing green eyes and swollen red lips. “We should go. We’ll catch the bus and…” He fell silent, Jared suddenly pushing the door open that led to the hallway.
“Come on. We have a car ready.”
Taylor looked at the tall man, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you taking us home?”
“Of course. It’s not safe letting you two walk this late, especially with the kid’s scent.” Jared met Taylor’s gaze, something burning in his violet eyes that made his stomach tighten. It was the first time Taylor had doubted something Jared said and he wasn’t sure if it was because a part of him was sick at the thought of the cocoa-skinned man having just fucked his best friend with four other guys. He looked away, trying to ignore the seething of feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Come on. Frey is waiting.” Jared waved his hand and Sage readily stepped towards him while Taylor froze.
Even if the gang had ever offered to drive Taylor home, which they hadn’t, Frey never would have been involved.
Staring at his friend’s back, Taylor didn’t feel he had a choice. He had started this by convincing Sage to go to Frey. The kid could have been fine just so long as he never ran across a shifter again. Given how rare they were, it could have been an option. Not anymore. He was responsible.
Squaring his slender shoulders, Taylor followed after Sage, his expression tight as Jared held the door for him. Wherever they were going with Frey, he was certain it wouldn’t be home and it wouldn’t be good.
It was right before dawn when the black wolf Heller found his pack.
The verdant blue-green of the forest was how he remembered it, shadowed, fogged and deadly to any that didn’t belong. What would have been a simple wood was magically enhanced by his pack’s sorcery. Heller had found the warnings of new traps, scents that spooked his wolf and kept him from trails that two years ago had been safe. He found the remains of those less lucky, shredded bodies of the cursed that had dared to stalk in their territory during the full moon. There were more than a few picked away corpses left as a warning to those that might come next moon. It made Heller uneasy. The werewolves had rarely dared into their territory before. What had changed that made the crazed howlers think they could stand a chance?
The group of shifters was occupying one of the many private estates belonging to Vale. It was the west facing villa built right by the steep ravine, fortified and protected by both magic and the natural lay of the land. It was another concern because Vale had refrained from opening this last house for years because of the sentimental association it had for the alpha. Something had changed in the dynamic while Heller had been away and he hoped he had not lost his pale leader while he had sat in prison.
As Heller slipped into the manor, his dark paws padding near silent on the tile, he was overwhelmed with the scents of his pack. Breathing in, he could feel the last two years try to seep out of his bones and fur to be replaced with warmth and a feeling of security he had long thought gone. Home. It didn’t matter which building be it hovel or mansion; as long as his pack was there he was home.
He found his pack in the middle of the common room, the group of men, shifted wolves and dogs stretched out on the floor in a pile of fur, limbs and pillows, a few human mates and females among them. Heller recognized nearly all of them. Even though Vale was not among them, he had no fear that his alpha was nearby for the man’s scent was everywhere, still fresh and vibrant. Pack life was like no other. It provided many with a family beyond what they had been born into with stronger bonds and deeper loyalties that connected them together through magic and beast. Heller had not truly felt the loss of such a life until finally returning home.
Stepping surefootedly between the warm, hard bodies of his pack, Heller was greeted welcomingly if not sleepily. He took the spot between Blade and a fluffy Rusty and promptly curled up on the hardwood floor and sighed heavily. With his pack around him, it was nothing for him to close his eyes and slip into the darkness, for the first time free of the fear that had haunted him the last long months. Finally, Heller let himself sleep.
Heller felt his pack leave him while the light of day warmed him, their scents clinging and keeping him safe. There were more than a few wet tongues kissing his snout as they left, hands petting him gently before they slipped away to go about their day. Shadowed and familiar, it was the kindest dream he'd had. He wasn’t roused from his deep sleep until hours later and only because of the pale, bare feet of his alpha standing before him, patiently waiting for him to awake. It might have been two years, but Heller was not one to deny Vale anything.
“You made it.”
Heller stretched and then shifted into his human form, sitting for a dazed moment on the floor as he adjusted. “Barely,” he grunted, peering up through his long, black tangle of hair to take in the form of his pack leader. It was strange to see Vale immaculate as always, his white hair sleek and thrown over his shoulder, aristocratic features calm with a hint of haughtiness that only added to the man’s charm. His muscular form was toned and compact and currently dressed in a thin pair of white pants, downplaying the power the man held physically and magically. Vale was a force and even if his human form showed him to be serene and still, his wolf form was a white beast of size and strength none were able to match.
Vale looked the same as always while Heller knew the man saw a different story as he gazed down at him. He had been changed; too thin, face unshaven and dirty. His blue eyes were different as if prison had drained a vitality from him and replaced it with madness. He had always been hard to tame but Heller was now more wild and manic than ever. He felt very much unworthy to kneel before his beautiful alpha after all that he had been through, all that he had survived and ruined to make it this far.
Silver eyes assessing the brunette for long minutes, Vale reached his hand out. The warmth of the man’s hand was a jolt to Heller’s senses, his fingers curling and gripping his pack leader's palm tightly. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, avoiding Vale’s piercing gaze as he swayed unsteadily for a moment. His alpha refused to release his hand and Heller didn’t complain, drawing strength from the simple connection.
“How was the escape route?”
Heller huffed. “I had to go through the entire cursed town. Ended up in the Wastes and nearly lost my nose… and my mind. There was nothing easy about that route.” He dared to meet the man’s patient gaze, glaring back almost challengingly as he waited for whatever judgment Vale had for him.
None came. Reading his gaze for another silent moment, Vale pulled Heller into a fierce embrace, wrapping the taller brunette so tight, Heller wasn’t sure he’d be able to breathe. Still, he hugged him back just as tightly, a desperation in his movements and the sting of tears to his eyes that threatened to have him fall apart if he let go too soon.
Heller sank into the feeling of Vale scenting him, the blond breathing him in deep and ingraining him into his memory. The man was always quiet—except when he was angry, then Vale was quiet and bloody. Very much a ghost, the pack leader had moon pale skin and nearly as white hair, his long silky locks looking to belong to a much older man. Many shifters aged differently, some were even thought to be immortal. Heller didn’t know Vale’s true age but he knew he looked only in his late thirties, all tall, limber muscle and cold, icy silver eyes. He had looked the same when Heller had joined Vale’s pack over twenty years ago when the brunette had turned fifteen. There was no one he trusted more than his white wolf alpha.
Vale pulled away all too soon, Heller left feeling lost and confused to no longer have the man’s warmth and strength around him. “Have you eaten?” Vale asked, eyes again reading something on his face he wished he could hide. “Flint saved you some breakfast.”
“I’m starving,” Heller admitted brusquely, summoning a pair of loose drawstring pants to step into. Two years had filled him with such coldness and he couldn’t find the words for anything just yet. He was home but he didn’t know if it was the same, if he still fit after so much time. Vale seemed to sense his distress, the shorter man wrapping an arm around Heller’s back and holding his bicep as they walked towards the kitchens as if afraid he would disappear if he let go.
“I didn’t expect to find the pack here,” Heller muttered, glancing around the manor as he tried to gain his bearings. He had been to the villa more times than he cared to remember, always alone with his pack leader. It had not only been a fortress to keep enemies out but also to imprison those that were too dangerous to let loose. Knowing his pack was living there was a concern on a different level for Heller.
“I had little choice in the matter,” Vale said simply. “The potion is still effective.”
Heller glanced sideways at the man, wondering how many months Vale had spent wondering if his pack would be wiped out from inside the manor instead of from without.
Shifter wolf packs were more necessity than tradition. There had been a time when shifters hadn’t felt the need to stay together beyond family, especially when the world had opened up with technology and communication. Magic and a simple internet connection could give every available luxury a shifter could dream of. But that was for other shifters, ones that didn’t have to face the cursed.
No one was sure exactly where the source of the werewolf population sprang from. There had of course been legends as far back as humans had been able to write, and before that, when they shared their tales around the fire. Werewolves had always existed in small numbers as had shifters, but something had changed less than a hundred years ago that had spread the werewolf infliction through the population. For a time, every month a new town was infected, the epidemic threatening to take out all of Europe and America until someone had finally made a stand.
Magic users were not the type to work together. They were freelancers at their best, egomaniacal and power hungry on a normal day; sorcerers and sorceresses were more likely to exploit a situation than save humanity. Shifters, not always strong in magic but magical enough to transform into their inner animal, were less prone to self-centered thinking but still preferred to be left alone. If the cursed hadn’t been enraged by the scent of all canines, including the shifters that transformed into the four-legged creatures, the wolf packs may have never taken on the task of destroying the werewolf population. But they had, and after word had gotten out that the cursed were systematically hunting and murdering every canine shifter they could find whether the moon was full or not, they'd had little choice. They could either fight back or be wiped out.
Packs had started to form beyond just family bonds, growing out of a need for survival. Sorcery was taught to every member no matter how little they had the skill. Werewolves had a magic to their cursed forms and physical attack alone could not harm them when they were transformed. Defenses and ways to single out a werewolf in the light of day and far from the full moon were adapted over time. They had even started working on potions in the hopes of finding a cure for the cursed, and if not that, at least a way to keep them from their beserker, howler ways when the moon did hit them.
The shifter wolf packs had come a long way in a short amount of time and while they had struggled to survive, the werewolf population had started to balance from their full out murderous assault and began to police themselves as only their kind could. Leaders had risen up among them, more intelligent and in control of their instincts than the untamed cursed. They had formed gangs that controlled territories, demanding loyalty from the werewolves and humans that if not given was met with ruthless, joyful violence. The shifters had not stopped their war for survival but they enjoyed the lull while the werewolf gangs fought each other for dominance of the cities.
Of the twenty-some shifters that made up Vale’s pack, they consisted mostly of wolves and a few large dog. All of them were accomplished sorcerers, powerful in magic in a way few shifters could claim. Most lived with their spouses and children, a few choosing to move as far away from Dogtowne as possible once they had bred even if it meant losing the pack’s immediate protection. Pack life was unique but it wasn’t always healthy for families. Their days were filled with magic, strategies, and patrols, ever watching the moon and anticipating the bloody fight to come.
Vale had one of the most powerful shifter packs around and Heller had once been second in command to his charismatic alpha. But that had been before the murder of Lorna by the werewolves, before he had been falsely convicted and imprisoned. Heller had no idea where he stood with his pack anymore or the enigmatic man he called alpha.
“I saw the dead cursed in the woods,” Heller remarked, his eyes sliding to what could only be a mounted cursed head. Someone had taken the time to preserve the hideous piece, the strange distortion of human and wolf face twisted in its final death throws. “Fresh. No older than a moon.”
Vale nodded, his grip on Heller’s shoulder tightening for a moment. “I had a room set up for you,” he said in his quiet way, eyes fixed straight ahead. “All your things are there; instruments, spell books, clothing. Even that dreadful ficus that you refused to let die. I need to leave soon—We're in the middle of a crisis. But I thought you could settle in, get caught up with the pack for now. I'm sure you're tired.”
Heller growled, trying to pull away, only to have Vale hold his arm tighter.
“I'm not excluding you. You've been on the run for weeks, Heller,” Vale said calmly. “You need rest and there is little of that outside these walls.”
“It was prison, not a retirement home,” Heller snapped. “I can help. I... Well, I actually might need your assistance for something.”
Vale raised a pale eyebrow, releasing the brunette once they reached the kitchen. The room was huge, tiled and filled with stainless steel appliances to go with the three large refrigerators and walk-in freezer. Shifters required a lot of food to handle their advanced metabolism. What they hunted and didn't eat, they froze for later. Food was already out, meat and vegetables waiting at the kitchen island making Heller's stomach growl at the scent.
“Is this someone from the prison?” Vale asked while Heller threw himself across the room at the plate.
“No, nothing like that.” Heller summoned his jacket one handed while grabbing a fork with the other. “Upper left pocket. Vial. I ran across some sort of... Well, I'll let you decide what the hell he was. Small, likely a runt if anything.”
Vale caught the long coat when it was thrown to him, picking through Heller's pockets until finding the item he was talking about. “Sperm?” He asked, his voice reflecting growing confusion.
“Smell it,” Heller grunted, his mouth full. Food had been sparse the last month, nonexistent his last week running for his life. That he felt hunger he took as a good sign that his body hadn’t given up just yet. Each bite was a return to himself, a reminder he wasn’t starving, wasn’t running. Home. He had made it home.
Eyebrow again raised, Vale stared curiously at the small vial, eventually popping the lid to give the contents a hesitant sniff. “Son of a—Fuck!” He snarled, immediately capping the vial and grabbing onto the nearest stool to keep from falling to the ground. “Heller... What the fuck are you trying to do to me?” He snapped, silver eyes flashing warningly.
“Just tell me what he is, Vale,” Heller said, not looking remotely apologetic as the pale man swayed and grasped the kitchen island hard. “I need to know I'm not going crazy here.”
“Bitch,” Vale gritted out, his glare only growing as his trembling arms gave out and he fell chest first against the marble top. “Fuck... Fuck, Heller, you know what that scent does to me.”
“It's stronger, right? Stronger than a normal bitch scent?” Heller pressed, dropping his fork as he reached over and took the vial from his alpha's fingers before the man accidentally crushed it.
“Yeah... He has some sort of magical enhancement. Whoever he is, he's powerful.” Vale continued to glare, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to gain control of himself. “Who is he? Is he in our territory?”
Heller grinned, his fangs glinting as he leaned down next to the panting man and met his gaze. “He lives in the Wastes.”
“What?” Vale wrinkled his nose in confusion. “In the dump?”
“He doesn't even know how to transform. His parents are dead. Lives with some dick that thinks shifters are the devil.”
Vale furrowed his brow, trying to focus on what the brunette was saying. “But he’s a shifter... How could he have been left behind? We always collect our own.”
“He said werewolves killed his family.” Heller paused, fingers combing into Vale's long, white hair, his alpha exhaling loudly from the touch. “He doesn't know he's a shifter. He's confused, scared... He begged so pretty when he took my wolf's knot. Wanted it so bad.”
Vale whimpered, turning his head so he was face to face with the brunette. “Heller.”
“Made me think of you, beautiful. How much you need it at times.” God but his alpha was beautiful like this. Heller tilted his head so he was resting it on the table, his mouth brushing close to Vale’s red lips. “You get so desperate to be filled. Do you want that, Vale? Do you want me?”
“Please,” Vale whispered, arching his back with a moan. “I missed you. Need you.”
Part of Heller wanted to grab the man then and there and just sink into him, fuck him until Vale was a part of his flesh. But he held back, letting his gaze move over his beautiful alpha, taking in the sweat sliding down his pale flesh, watching his muscles ripple with each gasping breath Vale took. It had been years and this was a sight he had been dreaming of one day seeing again. His alpha ached to be filled the way all bitches ached and seeing it always sent a wave of cruel possessiveness through Heller. Watching his pack leader break down until he was whimpering, whining, outright begging to be fucked made Heller only burn to hear more.
Maybe it was sadistic, wanting to see the immaculate, authoritative Vale dirtied and on his knees like a lowly whore. Heller just couldn’t seem to stop himself even after all this time. As powerful as Vale was—ruthless when it came to warring and brilliant for strategy—he was still a bitch beneath it all, something very few people knew in the shifter circles. Even less knew in Vale’s own pack, Heller one of the two trusted with his alpha’s secret. It was almost as dangerous as Vale’s other secret, just nearly.
A pack leader to also be a bitch was to open the pack up to the possibility of being taken over, their needy alpha too easily swayed when his heat was on him. In some ways it was just foolish politics; just because Vale enjoyed being fucked raw didn’t mean his ability to defend his pack and territory was impaired. But Heller also knew, in moments like these when Vale was so dazed and full of lust that he tore his pants off and got on the table, his knees spread wide, body folded over and ass held up in offering, that if any other alpha were to see the man, they would do anything to steal him and keep him, damning all the people that depended on Vale for protection at the same time.
“Who’s been fucking you, baby?” Heller growled heatedly, grabbing the pale, muscular globes of Vale’s ass and pressing his lips to the man’s pucker. Vale smelled devoid of any recent attention, scenting of bitch and need and nothing else. “How long has it been?”
Vale whined, Heller’s tongue teasing around the rim of his entrance. “Long. Months.”
“But there was someone?”
Vale snorted at Heller’s possessive growl, only to groan when the brunette nipped at the sensitive flesh of his hole. “Damn—Of course. Some fool of a boy.”
Vale smelled like sex and power, a mix that always made Heller dizzy. He slicked his tongue deep into the man’s hole, humming to feel the blond grow wet for him, Vale’s sweet juices slowly dripping free. His scent rose up, enticing, maddening, and Heller’s jealously only grew. Pulling back, he replaced his tongue with two fingers, pushing into the lithe man and stretching him. “Then where is this lucky fool? Why isn’t he balls deep in you right now?”
Vale gripped the table, panting loudly while rocking back on the fingers stroking deep into his passage. “Don’t ask… what you don’t wish the answer to.”
Narrowing his eyes, Heller pushed aside his plate with a clatter, climbing up on the marble table so he could grip Vale’s hair and force the man to meet his gaze. “Was he a shifter?”
“He’s dead,” Vale said tightly, panting in the rough hold. “I killed him. The fool overstepped and I was forced to kill him.”
Heller bent forward, twisting Vale’s silky hair so he could nip the nape of the blond’s neck. Vale shuddered beneath his teeth, pressing his strong body back against the brunette’s, his hips shifting until Heller’s clothed erection was tight against his entrance. Heller had had two years to wonder if Vale had sent him to prison, and just as long to realize that even if his alpha hadn’t orchestrated it, he had allowed the events to unfold as they had. Two years had been more than a punishment. Vale had wanted him to learn a lesson. One he must have decided he had finally mastered.
He ran his palms down Vale’s flexing muscles, gripping hard, slowly letting his claws scrape pink lines into the impossibly pale flesh. Vale was already dripping, his long, flushed cock spraying precum onto the sleek table with every rock of his hips as he tried to get the brunette to slide into him. Heller refused to rush it. He had missed this more than he could remember. Vale’s perfect, tireless body beneath his, growing more desperate with each minute until he knew his alpha would beg—beg or bite depending on his mood—to get him to fuck him. He slid his palms over the blond’s tight navel, moving up over his broad chest, then pulling down to his thighs.
“Heller…” Vale arched, groaning as teeth nipped the back of his neck hard. The brunette kept avoiding his cock, giving only the lightest of brushes to his balls as relief to the pressure building.
“Are you still angry with me, alpha?” Heller ran his bristled jaw down over the blond’s shoulder, growling lowly when the answer didn’t come swift enough.
Although Vale’s body was begging for completion, his silver eyes were sharp and unrelenting, piercing into the brunette as the blond grabbed the back of Heller’s head and tugged him forward. He turned his face, clamping sharp teeth into the pale of Heller’s throat, the brunette stilling with a guttural gasp. Heller went limp, his eyes rolling back as he waited. Vale released him just as abruptly, lapping his tongue over the indent of his teeth, coppery blood flooding his senses.
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Vale rasped, meeting Heller’s wild blue eyes. “If I cannot trust you, then you are of no use to me or this pack. Can I trust you, Heller?”
“Yes, alpha,” Heller answered readily. “You can trust me to protect our people. To keep your secrets.”
“To kill?” Vale pressed.
“Yes, if that is what you ask of me. I will not hesitate again.” Heller nipped at the blond’s nape, sighing when Vale shuddered and moved into his touch. “I will give you everything you need.”
“Then do it, you tormenting bastard,” Vale demanded, wiggling his hips. “Before the pack scents me.”
Heller plunged his fingers into Vale’s tightness again, the blond pushing back into each rough stroke. Vale was as impatient as ever to be done with his ache, but Heller thought maybe there was a softness to the man’s haughty features this time. His alpha had called him home and readily spread to him. Had not clawed or pushed him away. No, his strong, muscular body trembled for him and Heller could not ignore the fondness that warmed in him from it.
“You’re not even—”
“Now, Heller. I need you now,” Vale moaned, more slick liquid streaming from his hole and down his thighs. “Fuck me. Give me your knot and fuck me.”
Panting harshly, Heller quickly pulled his slacks down, focusing on his hard dick so he could transform it partially. Vale rarely asked to be knotted. It was usually an indignity too low for his alpha to tolerate unless he was in heat. To have him ask it of him now spoke of desperation and ache greater than first realized. It had to be the scent. The strength of the bitch scent from that green-eyed young man that lived in the Wastes.
“Yes, fuck… Fuck, do it,” Vale whimpered, spreading his knees wider when he felt the brunette’s cock press to his entrance. Heller pushed forward, grunting and grabbing the blond’s hips when Vale tried to impale himself faster. “Fill me… Damn, don’t hold back.”
Heller snarled, slamming forward once he had gotten his swollen cock head buried into the man’s clenching hole. Vale howled in approval, crashing back to meet him, groaning when the brunette’s knot stretched at the sensitive flesh of his entrance. Heller didn’t remain buried long, Vale’s insistent groans urging him to thrust into the man’s slick passage, pumping in mercilessly, his knot stretching the blond wider each time he got deep.
“You’re tight, baby… God, you’ve been needing this, haven’t you?” Heller gripped Vale’s hip until it bruised, humping shallowly as he worked his knot further into the man’s aching hole. “Got what you need, bitch… Gonna fix you… Mate you.”
Vale moaned, low and throaty when Heller’s swollen knot finally breached him, the thick flesh sinking into his entrance. “Fuck,” he gasped, desperate, ache filled cries falling from his wet lips. He reached his hand up behind him, grabbing a fistful of Heller’s black, silky hair and pulling hard until the brunette relented and nipped at his neck and shoulders.
“Do it… Fuck, give me your seed,” Vale rasped, pushing back with his hips, driving Heller deeper inside him as he clenched around his thickness.
The man was unbearably tight, Vale’s prostate swelling with his arousal to ensure his experience was as pleasurable as possible. That along with his lubricating hole and impossibly enticing sex scent made bitches stand apart from normal shifter wolves. Heller knew Vale let him fuck the man out of convenience, not love, but damn, it didn’t mean it was unenjoyable for either of them.
Heller’s knot began to swell, stretching Vale’s passage wider, the blond moaning as he folded forward, his face pressing to the table to increase the angle of the brunette’s rocking hips. Vale’s claws tore into the rock surface, the man growling lowly as gush after gush of hot cum began to fill his channel. “Yes… Heller, bite harder.
Heller groaned, his fangs growing in response. It was the closest thing to mating he was ever going to get with his beautiful alpha. He sunk his teeth into Vale’s shoulder, knowing the man needed the pain just as much as he needed his cock and seed inside him.
It was enough, Vale grunting, his jaw grit tight moments before he came, his dick spurting streams of pearly seed onto the table beneath him, the cum splashing up to tickle the flesh of his chest. He continued to rock back against the pumps of Heller’s hips, taking every thrust, every drop of seed while his passage milked the brunette’s thick knot.
Eyes dazed, Vale slumped forward, groaning lowly. Heller kept most of his weight off the man, licking Vale’s long throat, tasting his flesh and blood from the wound that had already healed.
“I should have brought you home sooner,” Vale whispered hoarsely, giving a final clench to Heller’s knot, cum gushing into his channel in reward.
Heller shrugged, lapping another line of wet onto the blond’s flesh with his wide tongue. “I should have apologized.”
Vale didn’t remark to if that would have made a difference or not, his face turning to rest on the table heavily. “I want to stay like this but there is little time.”
Heller stared down at the blond’s closed eyes, taking in Vale’s flushed lips and the light pink to his cheek. Just one whiff of the strange boy’s scent and Vale had spread to him, becoming nearly subservient. It was intriguing but also a dangerous revelation, one he was not sure what to do with just yet.
Heller shifted until he had his dick back to normal proportions, then carefully pulled from the blond’s entrance. He slid down his alpha’s body, finding his wet, sore hole and gently soothing it with his tongue. Vale sighed, groaning softly and spreading his legs wider. “You’ve yet to tell me about the crisis,” Heller remarked, loving how his cum mingled with Vale’s sex scent. It was short lived, a wave of magic shivering over the blond’s pale body, sweat, cum, and dirt whisked away as if it had never been there. Heller licked his lips, still tasting Vale on him, holding onto the flavor as long as possible while the blond stretched and sat up on the table, long white hair fanning around him.
“A pup has gone missing,” Vale disclosed, his tone flat in the way of news that had no potential of being positive.
“Whose?” There were few children in their pack. It was either one of their own or from a neighboring pack.
“Mercy’s.” Vale fixed Heller with a hard stare, watching the man’s blue eyes flash with emotion. “She and Clate moved out when she became pregnant with her second shortly after you were incarcerated. They scented werewolves right before the last moon but by the time we got there…” Vale huffed, shaking his head.
“Dead?” Heller asked, his throat tight.
“Clate and the newborn. Mercy survived but she’s been turned. She’s asking to be killed but only after she knows Ronan is either saved or dead."
Heller snarled, straightening with restrained emotion. “Is the boy still—?”
“Impossibly beautiful? Even more so these last years,” Vale spat, his bitterness at the situation clear. Ronan had been unique, a crimson colored wolf, his fur alone speaking of the boy being more magic than shifter. The boy had been nearly a gift of the gods, one he would suffer for while in the hands of the cursed. “They’ll sell the pup to the highest bidder and undoubtedly turn him next moon if we can’t find him.”
“They’ll destroy him if they haven’t already,” Heller whispered, his anger only growing.
“Likely. I’m hoping they’ll try to breed him first. He’s unique and some of the cursed have become more curious. It could buy us some time.” Vale didn’t look convinced by his own words. “I promised his mother I’d find him. Time is short.”
They had till the next full moon. It was the only time a werewolf could turn other werewolves. Shifters didn’t turn the way humans did, at least, not the canine shifters. Something in the magic that infected a soul with the deranged, evil wolf turned most all wolf shifters into howlers. They couldn’t coexist and the host went insane. It was a fate worse than death to a shifter and the werewolves took terrible joy in inflicting it to as many as they could.
“Let me help,” Heller said, having decided the moment he understood the situation.
Floating his pants up to him with a wave of his hand, Vale considered the man with a sharp look. “You should rest.”
“I’ll rest after the next moon,” Heller growled, his eyes burning back into the blond’s with a plea. “Clate was a friend and Mercy deserves vengeance for her family. If we can save at least one of them…” God, the entire family wiped out in the span of a moon. Damn the hell-infected beasts.
Exhaling heavily, Vale eventually nodded his agreement. He slipped into his pants, magicking a stain off of them idly before standing. “I have questions for you, Heller. Not now, but soon. About who you met in prison.”
Heller blinked, fighting the look of surprise off his face. “Alpha?”
“Not now. Just know that I know and we will discuss it later.” Vale pushed his sleek, white-blond hair from his face, fixing the brunette with another sharp glare before stepping from the kitchen. Heller watched him go, then slipped into his own pants, his mind strangely blank when he thought of his time in prison.
He forced himself to think of Clate’s child, the man’s only child when Heller had disappeared into the maximum security prison two years ago. Ronan was possibly dead, very likely mutilated and raped. Could he kill the boy if he found him to have been turned into a mindless howler? He set his jaw, thinking of the scar that tore from the top of Vale’s spine down to his right buttock, the only mark to permanently mar the man’s otherwise perfect, milk-white flesh. Vale would demand death. Heller would not be given a choice in the matter and maybe that was for the best. Howlers needed to die; it was a kindness to the cursed shifters. Death was always kinder than the curse.
The werewolf was doing all he could to keep the desk between himself and the beautiful green-eyed Sage. That the young man was panting, whimpering soft moans while Frey just looked at him was extremely distracting, as was the kid's scent quickly filling the room. “Sage, was it? I need to understand what's happening to you if I'm going to find the answer to this... this problem.”
Sage nodded, all his weight on his arms as he clutched the polished, dark desk. “What do you want to know?” He asked, his voice sounding so hoarse and strange in his ears.
“When did this start?” Frey couldn't stop himself, his fingers again drawn to the boy's tangle of hair. Sage gave a small gasp when the man tightened his grip, tugging on his locks. It would be so easy to pull him over the desk. Frey's eyes traveled over Sage's form, taking in his slim limbs, slender waist, and narrow hips. Very easy.
“Last night,” Sage murmured, head pushing into the man's large hand. “A shifter found me... He was fast, his teeth so scary... I couldn't get away.” Sage closed his eyes, the memory sparking fire through his body. “Oh... Oh, hell. I feel so empty.”
“Empty?” Frey asked sharply, bending down and pulling the brunette's face up. “You feel empty?”
Sage nodded heavily, eyes caught on the man's. Frey had a very handsome face. Not as aristocratic-featured as Heller, but definitely animalistic, predatory and consuming. Sage was growing to understand the new look directed at him and he liked it.
“Are you a shifter?” Frey asked, his hand caressing down the boy's jaw and neck, his palm rough compared to the brunette's smooth skin.
“No,” Sage whispered, leaning forward into the firm touch. Frey's chest was very close, the man smelling of rich cologne and heavenly musky sweat. “He asked me that, too.”
“There are some shifters that fill a particular purpose in their packs.” Frey's hand ran slowly down the front of Sage's t-shirt, fingertips brushing lightly against his body. “Since they're all males, it's theorized that they evolved some sort of bitch to help alleviate tensions.”
Sage felt when Frey found the hem of his t-shirt, the man rolling it lightly, his fingers sliding over the boy's flat stomach. “B-But I'm not a shifter,” Sage pointed out, his body trembling with every hot touch of fingers to his skin.
“I think you are, kid. I think you just haven't had anyone to show you how to transform. Only shifter bitches feel empty the way you feel.” Frey's hand slipped to the brunette's back, pulling the boy up against the side of the desk. Sage gave a weak cry, hands grasping the desk to keep from falling. “Just... I never heard of them having such a strong scent. Do you need it a lot?” Frey asked, lips moving over Sage's ear and neck.
“N-Need it?” Sage tilted his head to give the man's tongue and teeth better access, his arms beginning to shake as he held himself up.
“Sometimes a bitch just really needs to be filled. How much do you need to be filled?” Frey asked into his ear, teeth nipping lightly. Sage jerked at the question, his entire body tensing, fire moving over his skin in an unbearable wave.
“Oh god... oh please,” he whimpered, arms giving way. Sage rested his chest down on the desk, gasping soft pants. “I need it so bad... so fucking bad.”
Frey groaned, stepping back from the desk and the young man spreading his legs in offering. The kid's scent was only getting worse the more flushed and undone Sage became. And he was a very pretty kid, especially when he kept gasping like that, bright red lips parted and enticing. Frey had never met a shifter bitch, the creatures so rare and well protected that they weren't let out on raids. He could understand why—Having someone like this around when trying to get work done would really fuck things up.
“Sir... could you just fix this?” Sage asked weakly, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips and then further, lapping on the desk in slow, anguished swipes. “A spell... a potion... something.”
Frey shook his head, walking around the desk in measured steps. “Sorry, kid. You were born this way. That you made it even as old as you have is fucking amazing. You must have one hell of a chastity belt.”
Sage groaned, rubbing rhythmically against the desk, his hand reaching up to pull at his t-shirt that suddenly felt far too tight to ever be worn again. “My brother will kill me.”
“Yes, Jared mentioned something along those lines.” Frey had reached the brunette, his hip cocked against the desk as he watched the boy rock, t-shirt now wrapped around his chest. “Your brother's one of those anti-werewolf fanatics.”
He reached his fingers out with claws extended and deliberately tore a long line through the back of Sage's shirt. The material peeled away with a ripping sound, Frey tugging until the brunette's back was exposed. Claw marks and teeth bites were all over the boy's back and neck, the blond dipping closer to see. “Did you like it, kid? The beast that gave you these marks; did you like when it fucked you?”
Moaning from the memory, Sage couldn't answer right away. Frey didn't wait, the man slipping a finger into the boy's waistband and pulling a gap. He leaned forward, breathing in the brunette's scent, growling from the heady musk. “My god, that is tasty. Kid, I got this feeling you're going to be a shit ton of problems,” he muttered even as he knelt and began running his tongue over Sage's bare back.
Feeling the wet heat tasting him, following over the new claw marks and old scars that Corey had left on him, Sage whimpered desperately. He tried to get his shaking arms to work, needing his pants off now, but his fingers weren't cooperating. Frey grabbed one of his seeking hands, leaning down to nip his fingertips. “Patience, pup. I'm going to fill you nice and hard. Just some things are worth waiting for.”
Sage groaned, the man licking up his side, turning him easily and pushing him back flat on the desk. Frey smirked down at him, holding the boy's chest down with one hand while he began to unbutton his own dress shirt. Sage watched in growing wonder, warm golden skin, soft chest hair and hard, ripped muscles slowly revealed with each pop of button. The man's chest was littered with old slashes, large scars a shimmery white, one particularly nasty one on his left bicep that the brunette reached for, fingers brushing curiously. Frey's muscles flexed under his touch, Sage biting his lip, his breath increasing in speed. The man was really fucking strong and for some reason that made his ache flare even greater.
He gaped, Frey suddenly dipping his head and licking up Sage's chest, finding his nipple and lapping hard swipes. “Oh hell... oh.” Whimpering, Sage rocked his hips up, grinding his erection into the man's, hooking his leg around Frey's very strong thigh and trying to pull closer.
“That's it.” Frey ran his hand down the boy's stomach while tugging with his teeth at his other nipple, finding the clasp to Sage's jeans and tearing it open. He slipped beneath the band of the boy's briefs and cupped his palm against his hard dick. Sage gasped, hips thrusting into the touch, back arching as he fell against the desk.
“Please... I feel so hot.” Sage wiggled his hips, trying to get his jeans to slip further down. Frey growled, both hands grabbing his hips and pinning them in place.
“Slow down, brat. You're going to get everything you want. Just at my pace. Oh... I can smell that desperate, desperate need. And I want to see how much you can endure.”
Sage gave a disappointed moan, the werewolf's strong body and perfect heat pulling away from him, leaving him to writhe on the desk alone. “Please, I need it,” he whined, mouth gasping breaths of air. “Feel so... crazy. Aches.” Frey just watched him, eventually reaching over and whispering some words as he pulled the boy's hands up.
Sage glanced to the right, finding a leather bracelet around his wrist, magic holding him to the desk. He tried to calm himself, anxiety rising in him along with even more heat. That he couldn't move his arms was somehow making his need even worse. God, he was so messed up.
He groaned, Frey reaching over him, sliding a drawer open and pulling something free all the while managing to not touch him. The man pulled a dark colored cigarette from a gold case, lighting it while his eyes moved over the brunette. “How you feeling, pup?” He asked lowly, resting his elbows on the desk while dragging on his cigarette.
“Ache,” Sage whispered hoarsely, watching the sweet smelling smoke rise into the air. “I need it.”
“What do you need?” Frey asked, fingers moving forward to press against the boy's pouting mouth. Sage parted his lips, tongue reaching out, tasting the blond's fingers greedily. He groaned, Frey dipping into his mouth and drawing his saliva out, down his chin and throat in a long line. The man strayed, fingers pinching at Sage's nipples, twisting a pink bud until it was red and achingly sore. “Come now, speak up. I'm much nicer when my pets are obedient.”
Sage fought through the haze in his mind, eyes narrowing on Frey's lazy grin. “I'm not your pet.”
“Oh?” Frey slipped closer, bracing a heavily muscled arm on one side of Sage while he bent down, inches from his face. “You're a shifter, aren't you? A pretty bitch shifter that doesn't even know how to transform. One that is lying on my desk begging me to fuck him. Either I just won the fucking karmic lottery, or you are very confused as to what is happening here.”
Sage bit his lip, really wishing the man would stop talking and just kiss him. “I'm not...”
“I'm an alpha, pup. I'm a leader of many, many people and I have been for a very long time.” Frey took his cigarette from his mouth, leaning down to slowly lick the boy's lips. “When I turn my very extended family, I do it with two constants. I bite them, here.” He ran his tongue down, kissing the side of Sage's neck. “And I fuck them.”
Frey pulled back, eyes running over the gasping brunette, taking in his narrow chest and clenching stomach. “I don't like to turn young people. Their hormones are so fucked up, they have no self-control. The obnoxious pissants just cause me a headache while I'm trying to run my many businesses. So, if I fuck you and don't bite you, that can only mean you're something else, right?”
Sage, who was very relieved to find out he wasn't going to be turned into a werewolf just yet, didn't say anything, watching the man with wide, green eyes. “Answer me, pup. I don't enjoy talking to myself.”
“I... I don't know. I've never met a werewolf before,” Sage whispered. “Or a pack leader, either.”
“Mmm, today's your lucky day, kid. I'm probably the nicest werewolf you're ever going to meet in this shit city. I don't eat babies, don't rape anybody, and, oh, only kill when justified. Or very, very angry.” Frey gave a self-deprecating bark of laughter. “Hell, I even let the prissy shifters live, as long as they stay away from my pack. Although...” He moved his fingers over Sage's neck, taking in the heavy bite marks and claws. “I do like this guy's style. You didn't happen to catch this dog's name, did you?”
Breath speeding up from the renewed touch, his bruises aching under Frey's fingertips, Sage didn't think to lie. “Wolf. He was a black wolf named Heller.”
“Oh, a wolf? Those are the damn worst, aren't they? Always so high and mighty, full of daddy's money and unwarranted disdain for the rest of the fucking commoners. Gotta say, pup, he sure didn't fuck you like one of the noble bitches.” Frey ran his hand down Sage's torso, pushing the young man's jeans slowly down his hips. “All these marks on you, you sure it wasn't some wild animal that wanted into your hole?”
Sage gasped, his body tingling with each tug of his pants moving down his thighs. “He transformed. Had long, black hair, and pale blue eyes. He... uh, he walked me home... to be safe.”
Frey snorted, shaking his head. “Fucking wolves.” He bowed, pulling the kid's shoes off and letting them tumble to the carpet. Then he wrenched Sage's jeans down with one smooth pull. “Let me guess; he wanted to ask your parents for your fucking hand in marriage too, hmm? Prissy bitches.”
Sage fell silent, watching Frey pull his underwear down his slender legs and toss his briefs to the ground as well. “Oh... oh fuck,” he whimpered, head falling back heavily on the desk as the man ran his rough palm up the inside of his thigh, bending and pushing Sage's leg up on the desk and spreading him open.
“You smell like wolf cum. Mmm... And that fucking wild bitch scent.” Frey stubbed his cigarette out on the back of his hand, tossing it aside so he could lick up the young man's raised leg, then down his thigh. He paused, breathing in the kid's scent, nose nuzzling into his sac and tongue slowly pushing forward, sliding between his cheeks. Sage gave a loud cry, his arms involuntarily pulling at his magical bonds as he jerked.
“Oh, god... please do it... please,” Sage begged breathlessly, his head rocking side to side on the desk. Frey gripped his thigh harder, raising the brunette's other leg up over his shoulder while he probed the boy's hole with his tongue, teeth scraping against his skin and slicking wet wherever he touched. Sage could only moan, internally wishing it was thicker and longer and driving into him with much more force. But the werewolf seemed to be very interested in tasting him and he wasn't going to complain, enjoying it much more than the man's questions.
“Fuck, you are one tight little hole,” Frey groaned, tongue lapping out to run up Sage's hard dick in a long swipe. “You sure you were fucked last night? I've never known a shifter to be small—Another obnoxious thing about the damn haughty bastards. That wolf should have left you gaping wide.”
“Right, yes, ignorant as dirt,” Frey interrupted smoothly. “Don't worry, kid. I'm going to teach a few fine lessons here today. Lessons I have a feeling you are going to be begging to have repeated. You like to beg, don't you pup?” He asked, smirking wickedly while he brushed a finger to the boy's entrance, his thumb roughly pressing into his hole. Sage moaned, body jolting on the desk, eyes squeezed shut. “Come on, now. Beg me, pretty bitch.”
Sage really wanted to tell the man to fuck off but his body really, really wanted Frey to continue. He was pretty sure if he wasn't fucked soon he was going to die—Or at least, lose his mind. Opening his eyes back up, he found the man staring down at him, otherworldly golden eyes glaring in a way that demanded obedience. Sage growled, letting his focus drift to the heat burning over his skin, the way his mouth was dry from need, and his hole twitching, aching for the thumb to bury deeper within him.
“Please,” Sage breathed out, almost completely meaning it. Frey hummed, his other hand slipping down the boy's thigh, another thumb joining the first and pushing in slowly. “Oh fuck—fuck... please!” He gasped, wondering how he could have ever resisted such a perfect goddamn touch. He closed his eyes, groaning when he felt the now familiar slippery tongue pushing between the two thumbs, sliding deeper inside him than before and pulling moan after moan from him.
“See what a little self-control can get you, pup?” Frey murmured into his pink hole, thumbs digging in and pulling apart. Sage cried out, his limbs jerking, arms yanking painfully on their bonds as he tried and failed to pull the man closer. “I'm going to teach you how to not be such a slut. Oh, you'll still beg for it,” he assured, lifting his head from between the boy's thighs to grin wickedly. “But you won't be bending to every goddamn shifter or werewolf you happen to run into. Eventually, anyways. These things take time.”
Sage gasped, Frey suddenly on top of him, the man swift and powerful as he wrenched the boy's hands free only to pin them over his head. “I'm going to take care of you, kid. This fucking situation you're in while living in a city like this is just too dangerous. If some fuckwit gangster werewolf gets a whiff of your hole, he's liable to tear you to pieces just because that's how he likes it. But if you happen to be covered in my scent—the scent of an alpha—well, you have a much better chance of getting out of things alive.”
Sage nodded mutely, eyes fixed on the man's lips as he spoke. He wasn't sure if this was what he really wanted but, at the same time, he couldn't think of another way. He couldn't fight off a city full of werewolves—Hell, he hadn't been able to fight off one shifter. And Frey, abrasive as he was, hadn't hurt him yet, hadn't even fucked him, showing an amazing amount of restraint.
“What about my brother?” Sage asked quietly. “He won't... he can't know about you or the shifter. I know he'll kill me. He hates... everything...” he trailed off, the man leaning down close enough that Sage could reach his jaw with his tongue.
“We'll figure out something, pup. You're a sweet thing and I don't like the idea of you having to be afraid all the time.” That Frey seemed to mean it was somehow more confusing to Sage. But then, the shifter had been so abrasive and harsh only to be noble deep inside. Maybe deep inside this sarcastic, rough pack leader was someone that gave a fuck about a kid in a bad situation. Taylor had brought him to The Den for a reason, after all.
“Please,” Sage whispered, rocking his hips while raising his head closer, nipping at Frey's jaw. The man growled, pushing the boy's head back against the desk and following to kiss him hard. He tasted like cloves and a slightly sour flavor, Sage gasping as a tongue was pushed deep into his mouth, tangling with his, luring and taunting while hot palms moved over his body. He grasped blindly at the man's hair, liking the shaggy feel of the sandy blond locks, the tension in his neck and strength in his shoulders. “Oh...”
Gasping, Sage's entire body tightened, Frey rubbing his face down, bristle scratching over the brunette's chest, wide tongue quickly soothing the burning path. A hand cupped his ass, squeezing the tight muscles, fingers seeking between his cheeks with clear intent. “Oh, no,” Sage groaned, recognizing the feel of magic as his hole tingled, two fingers roughly thrusting in while he shouted. “Fuck... fuck, wait.”
“You sure about that?” Frey teased, watching Sage's face, the brunette gaping silent and not so silent cries. He twisted his fingers, pulling the boy's hole side to side, humming at just how tight he was. “Very nice, pup. You are very fucking nice inside. Damn, did that shifter fuck you twice?” He asked, catching the other scent of human. Frey licked his fingers, grinning viciously as he watched the young man try to gain more contact. He then shoved his fingers into Sage's mouth, the brunette groaning, nearly choking as he reached as far as he could down his throat. “Fucked by a wolf and a man. Do you have a preference?”
Sage whimpered, Frey grabbing his jaw and snaring his gaze. “Seriously, bitch, which did you like better? Wolf or man?”
“I...” Sage blushed, realizing he was more fucked up than he had originally thought. “The wolf's cock was... was really big and wet. And was in for so long.”
Frey groaned, tongue running over the boy's face. “He tied with you? Ran you down, fucked you hard, and tied you. What a bad, nasty wolf.” He shoved three fingers deep into Sage's hole, slamming in hard while the boy moaned. “Some shifters can be selective with their transformations. You find a nasty enough dog and he might fuck you with the type of cock you want. Very much the best of both worlds, that.”
Sage didn't say anything, too busy crying out from the feel of the man's thick fingers pumping inside him. Blearily, he wondered if Frey had ever been fucked by a shifter. The man looked like a slab of muscle but that probably didn't mean anything for liking something hard up your ass. “Oh... that's... god, yes.” Frey's searching fingers found the spot inside his passage and pushed deliberately, the boy crying out as his vision flashed and darkened. Legs jolting, he rubbed his thigh up against the man's pants, wishing it was flesh and not rough material.
“What do you think, pup?” Frey asked, fingers thrusting into Sage in slow, agonizing pushes. “Think you're ready?”
Sage nodded his head frantically, hooking his knees around the man's hips. Grunting at his eagerness, Frey removed his fingers from the boy's tight heat, pulling away to unzip his slacks. Sage watched him through slitted lashes, a shattered moan breaking free when Frey pushed his boxer briefs down with a wry smile. The man was huge—Pornstar huge, dusky flesh flushed red rising from trim golden hair and curving towards the ceiling.
“Part of the job description of pack leader. You gotta be hung like a horse.” Golden eyes moving over Sage's form, Frey slid his palm again between the boy's slender thighs, following with his face to breathe deeply of his warm musk.
Sage just stared, biting his lip, eyes widening when Frey grabbed his narrow hips and pulled him down the desk. There was no way that cock was going to fit in him. “This... this isn't going to work,” he whispered weakly, his body crying out in disappointment at the realization. He met the man's questioning gaze, explaining softly, “You're too big.”
“Sweetness, don't you worry about a thing,” Frey murmured, a secretive smile twisting his lips as he bent over Sage and kissed his throat. “I've been fucking pretty tight holes for a long time. That, along with biting long throats and making cash happens to be my specialty.” He pulled the brunette's legs up, feeling the toned limbs tremble as he wrapped them around his hips. “You're going to like this. Hell, the way you're designed, anything up that tight ass of yours will probably get you off.”
“It's just—Oh!” Mouth wide in surprise, Sage fell silent beyond his strained breathing. Frey pushed the head of his cock harder against his entrance, the boy gasping, his cheeks spread achingly wide. He closed his eyes, whining lowly in his throat, feeling his hole opening to the unimaginable thickness. He released a burst of air on his exhale, a cry escaping his lips.
It was hot, so hot and stretching him so wide. A burning, sore sensation that was forcing his body to reform around Frey's dick, inch by aching inch. “Oh god,” he choked, eyes flying open, finding the man staring at his flushed face intently. When Sage met his gaze, Frey leaned down, licking his lips almost sweetly.
“Alright there, pup?” He rumbled, his voice deeper with need, hands soothing over the boy's hips before tightening again. “How's it feel?”
“F-Full,” Sage said with a moan, the man sinking further inside him. “Hot... God, it's so hot.”
“Does it hurt?” Frey asked, his breath coming out in quick pants against the boy's hair.
“No... no, it's good,” Sage managed to grit out, his body clenching around the thickness that just kept reaching deeper. Fuck—how big was he? “Oh god... oh god.” Head falling back on the desk, Sage whimpered loudly, not sure how much more he could take. God, it was so big, reaching so deep, forcing him open wider than anything natural ever should.
“That's it. You are one filthy little bitch,” Frey growled, teeth nipping at the boy's neck while Sage mumbled wildly. “Taking me all in your first time. That is some fucking skill, sweetness.”
Fingers clawing at the man's hair, Sage could only moan, feeling when Frey finally reached the base of his length, the man gripping him hard and rocking into him as he tried to grind deeper. Sage sobbed, vaguely aware that he was covered in sweat, tremors shaking his entire body as he arched on the desk. His foot slipped, leg falling off the man's hips, thigh aching as it spread wide to the side.
“I'm going to go slow with you, brat. Even though that scent of yours is begging for it hard,” Frey growled out, mouth tight on the boy's ear, breath steaming over his damp hair. “Even though I know... fucking know... you're going to be begging for more.”
Sage gasped, eyes rolling back in his head when Frey began to move, one of the man's strong arms wrapped around his waist, angling his hips as he fucked him into the desk. Every long inch that had been pushed deep inside him was trying to retreat, Sage's body clenching inadvertently, slick friction on the walls of his passage burning unbearable. Only to have Frey's thick dick sheath back deep inside him, filling him beyond compare, pulling loud cries and uncontainable sobs from his shaking body. His fingers felt weak, arms pulling with odd weight as Frey took him with long, utterly thorough thrusts, his prostate rubbed each time.
It was too much—Too much to feel, the overwhelming sensations of each grinding stroke stealing more moans and more of Sage's sight, darkness sneaking up at the edges of his field of vision. All that was left was Frey's eyes, burning into him like golden hellfire, the man's expression ferocious as he watched the boy gasp beneath him.
“Pup, you're cumming a fucking river,” Frey observed hoarsely, pausing to wipe his hand between their bodies, bringing it up to the brunette's face to show he was indeed dripping with seed. Sage, lips already wide, did not resist when those fingers were pushed into his mouth, feeling too weak to even close. Frey wiped the cum on the boy's swollen bottom lip, half the fluid dribbling down his chin, the rest a bitter tang on his tongue. Then the fingers were moving over his face, Sage groaning as he felt cum smeared over his features, Frey reaching down to bring more creamy seed to cover his flushed skin. Starting from his cheek, Frey firmly pulled two fingers down, graffitiing the brunette's flesh, down his jaw and throat. Again, he dipped his fingers into Sage's mouth, brushing his tongue, forcing him to taste the sharp flavor.
“You dirty nice. Really, fucking nice.” Eyes drinking down the sight of Sage covered in sweat and cum, Frey began to thrust again, hands pulling the boy's hips down into each pump, his motions growing erratic, a low growl rumbling almost permanently through him. Sage choked out cries with each forceful jolt, his arms falling down to the desk limply beside his face. The werewolf was impossibly strong, Sage feeling no more than a ragdoll, so small and fragile in comparison, unable to do anything but spread his quivering legs wider and take in everything Frey gave him.
“That's it, sweetness... God, you're doing so good, baby... so tight. Fuck, you're getting tight,” Frey muttered, snarling into Sage's throat. He pushed the boy's legs up, driving into him relentlessly with each surge forward. Sage, head heavy on the desk, could only moan and jerk, his hole burning with aching friction, fire building and building inside as his channel clenched and milked the thick flesh moving inside him.
Sage gave a sudden sob, claws digging into his flesh, drawing blood, making his entire lithe body taut in need. Frey snarled again, holding him so tight, slamming into him as he pulled the boy's narrow hips down a final time to jet deep inside his shaking body.
“God, yes... Suck it in. Get filled.” Panting heavily, Frey's teeth scraped over Sage's throat, pinching sharply, warningly. “Oh, sweetness, I want to keep you. Want to put you on a pretty leash and keep you on your knees. Ass end up, begging for cock.”
Sage moaned, his hole so unbearably full with the man's dick filling him along with his seed. His hips kept rocking, trying to stroke it deeper inside, trying to get the man to continue pumping.
“What do you want, sweetness?” Frey ran his tongue roughly up the boy's throat, over his cheek, stealing a long, uncoordinated kiss. “What can I get you to make you stay?”
“Please, just...” Sage released a heavy breath, fingers curling weakly into the man's hair. “Keep fucking me. Need it, god, moving. Like the... the wolf.”
Frey wet his lips, groaning softly. “Kid, you telling me you're not done? That you still want more after all the cum you lost, nevermind what I just put in you?”
Sage blinked up blearily, his glowing green eyes hazy and hungry. He rocked his hips again, feeling the flesh inside him softening. “Need it. So bad.”
Staring down at the beautiful young man, Frey pushed Sage's sweaty dark locks off his pale face. “How do you feel about sharing, pup?” He kissed the red lips, nipping lightly. “Cus I got a few friends that might be willing to help you out. Well, to be honest, I think they'd get down on their fucking knees for the chance. What do you say?”
Swallowing hard, Sage rocked his hips again, whimpering when the man's dick only receded more from his aching hole. “Please.”
Frey grinned, pulling out of the boy and shuffling through his clothes for his discarded cigarette. He lit it with a flash of magic from his fingertips, taking a slow drag while he pulled his pants back on. “You got a preference?”
Sage shook his head, panting weakly on the desk. “Any of them, um, shifters?”
Frey gave him a sharp look, exhaling smoke through his nose. “Sweetness, I might not kill every shifter that comes my way, but you'll be hard-pressed to find one in a werewolf pack. They stick with their own. And if they get cursed, they kill their own before they let them go werewolf. I might be able to find you some sort of canine if you're that hard up for dog dick.”
Sage scrunched his nose, hating the part of him that got hot at the idea. “No, werewolves are fine.”
“I got some sweet ones, don't worry,” Frey assured, combing his fingers through his blond hair while moving to the monitors to see who was in the club. “Need the ones that can listen. Can't have them hurting a sweet thing like you... How many?” He turned, the boy still groggy on the desk and not looking at him.
Sage gasped as a palm suddenly slid between his thighs, two fingers pressing into his hole.
“How many times do you think you want to be filled, pretty bitch?” Frey asked, eyes blazing as he pressed his fingers deeper, the brunette bucking and whimpering for more.
“I don't... God, a lot. I just really need it. I can't... I don't know.” Sage moaned deeply, Frey finding his prostate and stroking it.
“Yeah, you are going to take a shit ton of attention, I think,” Frey muttered, taking the cigarette from his mouth so he could kiss the top of the boy's throbbing dick. “Although, it's about time I started training a few more managers.”
Sage just stared, gasping when the man licked his tongue out and swirled it slowly over the head of his hard cock. “Once we get you trained a bit, I'm sure you'll be less needy.” He pushed his fingers harder into the boy's passage, making the brunette arch and cry out.
“Let's start with four, sweetness. Let's see how you do with that.”
The Den was a bar in the middle of the industrial area of Dogtown. Usually frequented by blue collar workers after their shifts, it happened to be run by the werewolves of Frey's pack. Frey's gang got along with people instead of just exploiting the shit out of them—At least, that was how Taylor had explained it. Sage wasn't sure how running one legitimate business exempted the pack from all damn ill, but he kept his mouth shut. Corey had told him too many stories of the cursed to ever fully trust them.
The bar was divided into multiple sections, the mainly traversed area only starting to fill as workers streamed in, sweat still on their brows from their long day. It looked fancier than it needed to be for their simple customers, rich dark woods, shining tabletops, and sparkling glasses. The bar itself was a beautiful rainbow of colored bottles on a mirrored wall. Taylor led Sage to the tall, gleaming bar top while he spoke quietly with the bartender. Sage ducked away when he felt the man looking at him, his dark eyes seeming to sear into him while he talked with Taylor.
The bartender left to get Jared and Sage breathed a little easier. There was a smell in the room, tickling at him, making him feel hot. He wanted to take his hoodie off but resisted, licking his dry lips and trying not to think how good it felt. Taylor gave him a look, slipping close to whisper at him. “Howie said something. Said you smelled odd.”
Sage bit his lip, glancing around the room worriedly. “Tayls, what if they're like the shifter? What if they can't—If they want to...?” He couldn't finish the thought, just thinking about yesterday making him feel dizzy.
“I don't know,” Taylor muttered, his brows furrowed. “They sometimes talk about smells and scents. Maybe they can smell that you're different but won't react the way the shifter did? I mean, I can smell you and I'm not doing anything to you.”
Sage nodded, keeping his head ducked as the bartender returned, Taylor's friend now with him.
“What's this all about, Tayls?” Jared asked, arms folded across his chest. The man's skin was a cool cocoa, form tall and toned with compact muscles. His hair was in long thin dreadlocks let loose to drape over his broad shoulders. Sage gazed at him warily from behind his sunglasses, taking in Jared's odd purple eyes and sharp teeth. Werewolves could be picked out from normal humans by the points to their ears and teeth, along with odd eye colors that could never quite pass for human. Not to mention, they all seemed to have a wild viciousness to them, quick to anger, quick to lose control, quick to punish.
Glancing at Sage, Taylor stepped forward, keeping the boy behind him. “I need help removing some sort of spell. Someone cursed my friend and, well, if it's not fixed, he's going to be in a lot of trouble.”
Eyebrows raising, Jared peered over at Sage's hunched form. “You're going to have to talk to Frey directly about anything like that, Tayls. He doesn't like us magicking the humans.” He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck to the side while he thought. “He's in right now. He stopped by to do some administrative shit.” He looked Taylor over, a worried furrow forming between his brows. “You know there will be some sort of price.”
“I'll deal with it,” Taylor said flatly. If Sage was really cursed so that any shifter would just walk up to him and fuck him, it didn't matter what the hell Frey wanted in return to fix it. Any price would be worth saving his friend from such a horrible existence.
“Come on, then,” Jared said, stepping around the bar and leading the two through a set of doors. Another bar was there, even fancier looking than the first, elegant with a modern flair and currently empty. Sage did his best not to stare, having never seen anything so rich looking outside of the television at Taylor's house. Weaving past tables, Jared brought them to the back of the building, through the kitchen entrance and then down a long, tiled corridor. He held his hand up, indicating Taylor and Sage should wait, then pushed into the entrance, shutting the door behind him.
Sage and Taylor exchanged glances as they stood in the narrow hall, the blond whispering, “Frey's an alright guy. Fucking scary at times, but he keeps his word and doesn't go hunting people the way the other gangs do. As long as you stay calm around him, it'll be fine.”
Sage licked his lips, remembering a little about what Taylor had once told him about werewolves. They had a sort of animalistic culture where showing fear usually gave you something to be terrified of. Weakness was not encouraged and usually punished. Sage squared his shoulders, head rising as the door opened, Jared waving them in.
He'd been expecting an office but instead found himself in some sort of lounge. There was a desk, a man leaning forward in a leather roller chair as he flipped through papers, but the rest of the room seemed to fit the elegant bar, decorated in rich blacks and polished stainless steel, matching leather sofas and chairs forming a large L-shape. There was a large flat-screen on the wall, beside it an array of smaller monitors that looked to be connected to the bar's security system. The carpet was lush and black beneath his feet, Sage immediately feeling disoriented. He was used to a very low caliber of living and this was not it.
Seeing that Taylor was staring patiently at the man at the desk, Sage did as well, noticing that besides Jared, there was no one else there. Which meant, by default, the man at the desk was Frey, the werewolf pack leader. Sage let his sunglasses slip down his nose, biting his lip as the man came into better view. He seemed rather normal, honey-colored locks and dark gold eyes. Maybe thirty... or forty... His skin was even a bit golden tinted and Sage imagined when he transformed he was possibly a golden colored werewolf.
The man had heavy brows and sharp cheekbones, but a full, soft mouth. He had a haze of stubble on his jaw that looked as if he never found time to truly get to it, his well-tailored suit with leather suspenders managing to look rumpled as he scrawled something out on paper. He was handsome in a scruffy way, something about him almost calming. There was a coat rack behind him, a long wool coat and fedora waiting for when the pack leader was done.
“Who's your friend, Tayls?” Frey suddenly spoke, eyes still tight on his work. His voice was low with a smooth undertone that had Sage gnawing on his lip, something warm trickling through him. He couldn't help but notice the smell again, stronger in the room with fewer people to dilute it.
“Sage. He needs some serious help.” Taylor scratched the back of his head, slinging his arm through Sage's and pulling them closer to the desk. “He's been cursed.”
“Cursed?” That was apparently enough to get the man to look up, his sharp golden glare suddenly on the slender brunette. “What sort of curse?”
Taylor winced. “Um... it's a bit difficult to explain.”
“It's a sex curse,” Sage said bluntly, raising his chin defiantly as the man blinked and straightened in his seat. “It leaves me with a scent that makes shifters want to have sex with me.”
Looking at the boy dubiously, Frey carefully twisted his pen shut and placed it down on his desk. “I can only presume you have firsthand experience of this?”
Sage pushed his hood back, pulling the sweatshirt from his neck so the man could see the marks there, some of them wolf teeth. Nostrils flaring, Frey crooked his finger, Sage stepping forward hesitantly so the man could see clearer.
“Are you the same age as Taylor?” Frey asked, glaring at the bruises on the young man's neck. He snagged the back of Sage's hood and t-shirt, finding the claw marks on his back as well.
“Yeah, we're graduating together.” Sage started when the man's hand was suddenly in front of his face, stilling so Frey could remove his sunglasses. The werewolf's eyes were definitely otherworldly, sharp and penetrating as they ran over the brunette's features intently.
“How can you be sure you've been cursed?” Frey asked, pulling again at the boy's large shirt, finding more scratches and bruises beneath.
“The shifter. He was trying to... to stop himself.” Sage looked away when those eyes again snapped to his. “He said it was my scent. That someone must have done something to me.” He wished the man would stop pulling at his shirt, Sage feeling somewhat dizzy and hot from the touch. “He wanted to help me... but he couldn't get too close without... without the scent messing him up... so he made me run.”
“What's happening to you?” Frey muttered, standing slowly while Sage swayed on his feet, the boy beginning to pant.
“Sorry... There's something about you... your eyes, I think... And a smell,” Sage mumbled, pulling at his sweatshirt, the material feeling too heavy and restrictive. He tugged it over his head, his dark hair fluffing up, Taylor rushing to his side to keep him from falling.
“You're all flushed,” Taylor said, running his hand over his friend's face. “Like you have a fever.”
Sage nodded, leaning into the cool touch, eyes closing slightly. “Happened last time. Felt feverish... dizzy.” He breathed in deeply, swaying more. “Shit, it's getting worse.”
Holding the boy up, Taylor looked helplessly to Frey, gulping when he saw the pack leader's hungry expression as the man stared fixated on the slender brunette. “Sir, he needs help,” he said, his anxiety only growing when Frey gave a low growl.
“Tayls, you need to come with me,” Jared said stiffly, holding his hand out to the blond. “Your friend is giving off a really powerful scent and he's way too close to the boss. I don't know how long I can stay in here, so you need to come now.”
Taylor looked over, finding Jared pressed up against the door, one hand covering his nose. “What about Sage?” He asked weakly, looking again to Frey, the man practically puffed up, his beast growing his muscles and size. Taylor had only ever seen that happen before a werewolf went to fight. To see it while the man was looking at his dazed friend was even more unsettling.
“You're going to have to let him go,” Jared said evenly. “There are about five werewolves in that kitchen, kid, and more out at the bar. If they smell him, this is going to be a huge fucking problem. Drop him and get the fuck out of here.”
Torn, Taylor turned to Sage, finding the boy's green eyes nearly glowing as they stared at the bristling Frey. “Sage? I can try to...”
Sage smiled lazily, gaze slipping to Taylor. “He's strong. He's really, really strong.”
Taylor remembered how Sage had said he'd liked it. He had thought his friend had just been confused, having never had any sort of positive sexual encounter when he had such a fucked up brother. But looking at the boy now, he thought maybe Sage might really be cursed and just couldn't help himself.
“I won't leave you. I'll be right outside,” Taylor promised, gently releasing Sage's arms, the brunette lurching forward to grab the desk before him. Taylor backed away, eyes taking in the sight of Frey combing fingers through the young man's tangle of dark hair, the man leaning closer to breathe up Sage's neck and talk lowly. Frey licked his tongue out, but Taylor didn't see anything else, Jared roughly grabbing him around the waist and rolling them both through the door.
“Holy shit, you weren't kidding!” Jared growled, fanning his face as he tried to get the lingering remains of Sage's scent from his nostrils. “That can't be natural. Not at all.”
Staring at the closed door, Taylor tried to figure out what was happening inside. He frowned, pressing his face to the steel painted to look like wood.
“It's soundproof. You're not going to hear anything,” Jared said, not unkindly.
“Is he... Will Frey hurt him? He looked really aggressive.”
Jared shrugged, uncertain. “That scent, it was fucking strong. Made me want to... Well, let's just say, I've never thought of doing that with a young thing. Much.” He glanced away from the blond in front of him, Taylor's rosebud lips obscured by the boy's thumb as he pressed it to his teeth. “I need some air to get rid of this scent. You gonna be okay?”
Taylor nodded, continuing to stare at the door. He shouldn't have brought Sage there. He should have just talked over the phone and... What? Magic over the phone never worked. There was no way they could have really explained the scent without smelling it firsthand. Just... Just now Sage had to worry about a damn city full of werewolves, not just the stray shifters that came through.