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Star System
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*Be honest. Legit, if I've fucked up and you hate my book, I need to know so I can improve as a writer.

*You are not required to write a long ass review. Just do what makes you comfortable .

*Amazon will not allow reviews in exchange for free books anymore. They will allow free books to be given and a reader to voluntarily choose to review--In case you guys didn't realize, you are not obligated to do anything. I know it and that's why I'm so appreciative that you're here to begin with. It's important you know it too. If you're having trouble with the right wording for this statement, I pulled this off a website which should be acceptable.
"I received a free copy of this book and voluntarily chose to review it."

*I'm pretty focused on Amazon at the moment because of visibility, but if you're all hooked up with Goodreads or Smashwords, by all means. Oh, if you're in another country and reviewing, you can either review on the US site or the one you're connected to--I'm not a 100% sure how it works. I'm sure it'll be good, whatever you do. <3 I'm going to do a series of links at the bottom and it's up to you where you actually want to post the review.

Thank you!

~Sadie Sins

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CHAPTER TEN

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.

CHAPTER NINE

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

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

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

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

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

“Teeth. Use your teeth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even a desperate bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAPTER EIGHT

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.

“I’m ready.”

“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.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Taylor waited anxiously in the hallway outside Frey's office door, chewing on the side of his thumb. It felt like an eternity before Jared returned, and even more so when the door finally opened. He jumped up quickly at the noise only to freeze, dread growing in the pit of his stomach when he caught sight of Frey.

The man was dripping sweat, shirtless, his pants hanging low from his hips, suspenders loose at his sides. His hair was a mess and lips swollen, fluid clinging in a small stream from the corner of his mouth down his chin. Taylor tried to look behind him but Frey's muscular form blocked his view.

Frey only gave the boy a passing glance, fixing his golden glare on Jared. “I want Kyle, Yapper, and Tony if he's in yet. Tell them to free up at least an hour.”

Raising his brows, Jared gave a nod, turning to get the other packmates. “How's Sage?” Taylor asked quietly, trying not to flinch when the pack leader turned his glare to him.

“Fine, just really fucking horny,” Frey said with a wry grin. “Jared, take the kid and leave him with Howie. The last thing I need is him getting covered in that scent. Free up an hour for yourself too. I need people that won't lose their shit and start biting.”

He shut the door, Taylor staring blankly at where Frey had just been. “Jared...?”

“He's fine, Tayls.” Jared grabbed him by the back of the neck, firmly turning the blond and leading him down the hall. “You know Yapper and Kyle. They might look a bit rough, but they're the sweetest guys ever. No one's going to hurt him. Especially when Frey's in the room.”

Taylor wasn't so sure. Even if they didn't hurt Sage, he had a fairly good idea what they would be doing to him. “Are you really going to...? I mean, you don't even know him.”

Jared shrugged silently, gently shoving the boy down into a bar stool where Howie could watch him front and center. “Get the kid whatever he wants—No booze. He doesn't leave your sight.”

“Jared, are you really going to?”

Turning purple eyes to the worried blond, Jared said pointedly, “I don't hurt people, Tayls. Not unless they've done something worth hurting them over. Your friend doesn't have anything to worry about. Now chill out and watch some television or some shit.”

Feeling numb, Taylor slumped forward in his seat, ignoring Howie's concerned stare. They were going to fuck him. Not just Frey, but others from the pack. Was Sage okay with that? Had he asked for more or was Frey just using him like some cheap whore? Sage hadn't ever even had a boyfriend before, then last night that shifter jumped him and now... Whatever the hell was happening now.

He should never have brought Sage here. The kid had enough problems with his parents being dead and living with a psychotic brother. And he was so afraid of werewolves. Was he afraid now?

Taylor lifted his head, watching as Jared led the men Frey had asked for into the back area. He recognized all of them but Tony. But when the others talked about Tony, they sounded kind of exasperated because the guy was always letting people walk all over him. So maybe not the kind of guy to hurt Sage.

Which made Taylor wonder if they were all gay. Or, with Sage's strange scent, did that not even matter? He'd heard of guys being in prison for so long, they didn't care where they put it in, just as long as they got some. Maybe that's all it took. Maybe they wouldn't even see what Sage was, just see something to use to get off.

It wasn't a comforting thought and Taylor slumped forward again, kicking his feet idly on his stool while he waited.