Sebastian stepped reluctantly down the dark street, hearing the sounds of happy children shrieking yards away as they rang doorbells and demanded candy. He would have driven to the store, but the roads were black and reflective from the cold rain that had been misting that evening and with all the kids milling around for Halloween, he was certain he’d end up running one of the idiots over. Totally by accident, no matter how annoying they were with their costumes and laughing and damn near happy ass lives.

He might be depressed. Not that he didn’t have good reason—He wasn’t one of those emo types that just hated life. Much.

Scowling, Sebastian kicked a wet maple leaf off of his sneaker, feeling the trickle of water get in through the hole in the sole. Perfect. Really perfect. His parents had sent him out to get more candy for the trick-or-treaters, but at this point, he was pretty sure they just wanted to get him out of the house so they wouldn’t have to watch him mope.

Gay. Claire Stevenson thought he was gay.

She hadn’t even been mean about it. She wasn’t the first person to call him gay but most people had done it while making fun of his sappy heart when it came to animals or the fact that he was short and thin and apparently that automatically made him girly. Whatever. He probably could have dismissed it if she had been bitchy and trying to make him feel like shit about himself. Not that the end result was much different. Because the girl he’d been dating for the last three months had just dumped him because she thought he was gay.

God, he hated his life.

You’re just, well, not that into me, Sebastian. It’s like you’re a best friend, not a boyfriend. I can’t make you want me the way I want you, and that’s really, well, terrible feeling to be with someone that doesn’t want me back.

No, she hadn’t been mean at all, but Claire had still managed to destroy him with one damn conversation. He had liked Claire forever. Sebastian couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had a crush on her. Sure, he wasn’t the most romantic of guys—He’d never say he got butterflies or anything, but that didn’t mean he was gay. Sebastian was just really low key. Boring, if he was feeling down about it. Yeah, he was kind of boring—But not gay. He just didn’t get overly excited about stuff even if he had been crushing on Claire for ages now.

When I kiss you, it’s like, I dunno, wow for me. Really crazy and intense feeling. But you… I don’t think you feel much of anything at all.

God damn it, how could you even measure something like that? How could she just know she felt more than he did? It wasn’t like he was trying to compare or reach some goal of epic makeout sessions. He’d been dreaming about Claire forever, and the moment he finally had a shot at her, he had wanted to take things slow. You know, build a foundation between them. Prove that they could be a long term thing. All of his previous girlfriends had been more like a week to week trial with a whole lot of empty space in between, but with Claire, Sebastian had wanted things to be different.

Well, in a way, they had been, hadn’t they? Instead of being dumped for being too weird or distant, Claire had decided he really just wanted dick. Right after they had been kissing, at that.

He didn’t think he was a bad kisser. He got self-conscious a lot, especially if anyone could be around and see him, but when he did kiss, he thought he was kissing with all his heart. How could she think he didn’t feel just as much for her as she did him? Who even got to say how much you were supposed to feel for someone for it to be officially enough? Hadn’t he like, talked to her every day on the phone and tried to see her every moment he could? Hadn’t he gone out of his way to keep his schedule open around his job and college and her classes to take her out whenever she wanted? How could he do so much and have her think he didn’t feel anything for her? What the fuck else was he supposed to feel?

Fuck, was he supposed to feel something else?

Sebastian growled, his left foot landing hard in an unseen puddle and sloshing up his jean leg, the material immediately soaked. “Fucker.” He hopped, but the damage had been done, his sneaker now squishing with every new step he took, the wet shoe slipping on soggy leaves and concrete alike.

It was an extremely irritating internal monolog, one that didn’t seem to have any answers forthcoming. Sebastian didn’t know if he was feeling enough—He didn’t even know what the fuck he was supposed to feel. He had trusted his feelings this far. Finally, with a girl Sebastian had thought to one day want to marry, she had told him he wasn’t feeling anything at all. And the truth of it was, Sebastian wasn’t fully confident he was feeling everything he was supposed to.

Movies would have him believe he needed to make grand romantic gestures and last-second dashes to airports to show how much he cared. Real life wasn’t like that. At least, his real life wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the type to go rent out an ice skating rink for a romantic date or send twelve dozen roses for the week of Valentine’s Day. He didn’t feel the need to write a book of poetry for how Claire looked in the morning light. He wasn’t the type to want to slice his wrists just because the girl he’d been crushing on had dumped him. For real, who the fuck did that? That wasn’t love; that was just a total chemical imbalance of insanity…

Right?

Running a hand through his damp, black bangs, Sebastian sighed weakly as the line of convenience stores came into view. The small strip mall was lit up in neon oranges, purples, and reds for the holiday, calling customers in from the clammy, wet night with the promise of shelter and heat. He quickened his pace, ignoring the slosh of his sneaker with each frozen step.

God, was he like an unfeeling, dead-hearted idiot and just didn’t know it? Should he be, like, thinking about jumping off a bridge or something because Claire was never going to be with him? Hadn’t he been planning a life with this girl? She was funny, smart, cute, and just all around perfect. Sebastian had friends that acted like if they were dumped, their life was ending. Was he seriously wondering if he was supposed to feel love an entirely different way?

And just who the fuck decided what you were supposed to feel anyways!

He really didn’t know, and the lack of answers was beyond frustrating. Because if he didn’t know, how the hell could he change it? Did he want to change it? Did he need to conform to some level of ‘feeling’ or be forced to accept that he was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life?

Would being alone be better when he wouldn’t be judging himself on how much he was failing to feel for someone he supposedly loved or damn near loved?

Being dumped by Claire didn’t have Sebastian wanting to kill himself, but trying to figure this particular problem out was definitely getting him thinking about a sturdy plastic bag with no air holes.

Jesus, fucking girls. Dictating how he was supposed to feel while in the same breath telling him he wasn’t doing it right. He had felt just as much for Claire as he was meant to feel, or was at least capable of feeling. It might not have been enough for her, but it had been to the best of his damn ability at the time. He sure as fuck hadn’t felt that much for a guy before. Just because he hadn’t lost it over Claire didn’t mean he was gay.

***

He left the warm lights of the convenience store behind him with two bags of candy and an impulsive—but decidedly needed—six-pack in hand. Sebastian’s mood only grew worse when he found the mist that had surrounded him on the walk to the store had turned into a light drizzle that was quickly threatening to grow into a miserable downpour. He hunched forward in his hoodie, the sweatshirt material doing little to protect him from the freezing water and chill wind of approaching winter.

He was full of dread at the idea of going home and having to face his parents’ well-meaning yet completely unhelpful comments as to why things hadn’t worked out with Claire. They kept pushing for him—none too subtly, at that—to move into a dorm or apartment with a group of students his own age. So he could be more sociable. As loathe as he was to have to surround himself with a bunch of loud peers while at the same time losing any ability to fill his savings account, he was starting to consider it if only to avoid the ever increasingly awkward conversations of why he was still single and just couldn’t find the right girl.

As he slipped on slick leaves in the dark, leaning sideways against the wind while standing on the sidewalk, Sebastion began to contemplate his parents’ parting words before he had left the house half an hour ago. Maybe they had been suggesting something else when saying he hadn’t met the ‘right girl’ yet. Maybe they were saying he shouldn’t be expecting to fall for a girl at all…

Did everyone think he was gay just because he’d been unlucky in love?

The sound of crunching tires hitting leaves behind him caught his attention. Sebastian immediately stepped as far from the street as the sidewalk would allow, his expression growing stormy when he heard a puddle splash and felt a fresh spray of water as the vehicle roared past.

“Asshole!” He growled, raising his hand holding the bag full of candy while ineffectively wiping the side of his face that had gotten caught in the deluge of dirty water. He glared after the fading red taillights, glad that the rain had at least driven most of the trick-or-treaters inside so they wouldn’t have to deal with the same fate. Shaking himself off, he forced his frozen feet forward, quietly contemplating just who had insisted on Halloween being so late in the season when the weather was always so cold.

He was going to go home, lock himself in his bedroom, and drink himself to sleep. Not because he was depressed over Claire—no, apparently he still couldn’t work up enough emotion for that—but because he was so fucking annoyed by being told he didn’t know how to feel. He knew how to feel. He did it every fucking day. And if that wasn’t good enough, well, too fucking bad for Claire.

Somehow feeling more empowered in his anger even though he was still absolutely lost on what the fuck Claire had been trying to tell him, Sebastian splashed through puddles and piles of colorful, rain-drenched leaves until he reached the familiar streets of his neighborhood. The rain had only increased and his steps sped up in response, his sweatshirt soaked through and bangs now dripping into his green eyes, obscuring his vision. Which was why, when headlights suddenly flashed and Sebastian caught sight of a small, hunched body in the middle of the road, without thinking he immediately dashed forward.

A horn blared startling loud, the tires to Mr. Walden’s sedan shrieking on the wet pavement when the man slammed on his brakes to avoid Sebastian’s poorly lit form. He barely noticed, his gaze fixed on the middle of the road where a child’s plastic pumpkin treat holder was tipped upside down, candy scattered on the ground all around it. But where he had thought he had seen the body of a person, a drenched, wide-eyed black cat looked up at him, it’s fur matted to its trembling body.

“Sebastian! Are you out of your damn mind, boy? You could have been killed!” Rolling his window down roughly, the older man squinted into the rain, trying to see past Sebastian’s knees illuminated by his headlights. “Oh, hell, don’t tell me that’s a…”

“It’s a cat,” Sebastian said, wonder and warmth filling his voice in equal proportions as he bent down and offered the back of his hand to the small creature’s delicate nose. “I think he was eating the candy.” He had never known a cat to eat candy, but with the torn wrappers under the cat’s paw, he was pretty sure that was what it was doing.

Scowling with a mix of annoyance and relief to find that there was no child crumpled under the wheels of his car, Mr. Walden revved his engine impatiently. “Come on, get out of the street. Whatever it’s doing, the road is no place for it or you. Especially in this rain.”

Eyes of impossible periwinkle depths stared up into his. Crouching down, Sebastian held his hands out, the frail looking cat following the movement with its head warily. “You cold, little guy?” Sebastian crooned, carefully scratching behind a bedraggled ear. When no bite or hiss came, he edged closer, cautiously wrapping his arms around the cat’s body but not lifting just yet. “I’m going to get you out of this rain, okay? My home is nice and warm and you won’t have to worry about being run over.”

Taking the silence and trembling of the small form as permission, Sebastian carefully tightened his arms until the black cat was in his embrace. He stood slowly, hooking the plastic handle of the pumpkin with him so no kid would wander into the road to try and rescue it as well. He ignored Mr. Walden’s eyeroll—the man was clearly not as impressed by a pathetic, shivering, soaking wet cat as he was—and slowly walked his new friend to the sidewalk where they could both be safe.

“Do you have a collar, pretty?” He asked softly, gently scratching beneath the cat’s chin until it tilted its face up to reveal that it was indeed collarless. But even though the cat was bedraggled and scavenging for food, Sebastian was certain it belonged to someone or had only just recently lost its owner. It was far from feral, curled up in his arms and purring as it tried to heat itself against the rain and cold. It hadn’t tried to claw him or anything even though the poor thing had nearly been run over and had to be terrified.

Water dripped down onto Sebastian’s nose from the brim of his sweatshirt hood, startling him momentarily and reminding him that even though his new friend was safe from cars, it was still out in the miserable weather that could be just as dangerous for a domestic animal. Decided, he turned towards his house, speaking soothingly as he held the cat close against his chest between the damp layers of his shirt, offering it as much protection as he could from the elements while he took him home.

The drive had been full of an intense, silent energy that was quickly growing unbearable the longer Shane sat parked on top of Ryan’s dirt driveway under the thick canopy of oak and pine trees. He needed to say something. He needed to do something. He just had no fucking idea what. He was in the car with his werewolf mate and Shane was completely lost.

He couldn’t stop the crazy butterflies fluttering in his stomach. His teeth were itching, saliva building in his mouth at the very idea of biting Ryan Moss on the neck and claiming him back as his mate. Ditching class, he had led the dark haired, tanned werewolf to his secluded Charger, having parked under the trees and away from any stray door that could ruin the sparkling copper and black paint job. Still, once in his car, Ryan sitting a foot or so away on his front side passenger seat, Shane was again all nerves and doubt. The drive had been full of him testing questions in his head he never actually dared to speak and watching Ryan out of the corner of his eye as the brunette blatantly stared back at him.

A week ago when Ryan had taken everything he had wanted from him, things had been confusing and yet perfect all at once. Partly because Shane had felt trapped—He had literally been tied up by the lust crazed werewolf, locked in Ryan’s dark basement like something out of a horror movie. Just, it hadn’t felt like a horror movie, not really. Maybe more like a low budget porno where the big twist was he was being fucked by a wolf shifter. A shifter with so much animalistic charisma that Shane had finally given in to the possibility that he might not be as straight as he had once been certain of.

There was just something about Ryan. Noble, quiet, intelligent, and athletic—All traits that used to annoy the fucking shit out of him. Still did, actually. Shane was pretty sure even if he decided to bite the kid’s throat and claim him as his own, he’d still find Ryan Moss annoyingly perfect at every turn. Even in looks—Fuck, especially in looks. The brunette dressed practically in rags with his torn jeans and thin t-shirt but managed to look gorgeous, his windswept black hair teasing bangs across his eyes, his sharp jaw and cheekbones making the light blue of his gaze burn crystal beneath dark brows and thick lashes. Ryan might have been a werewolf but he was all man, over six feet tall with a tanned, toned, muscular build that Shane had found himself admiring on more than one rather confusing, blood boiling occasion.

In the light of day and outside of Ryan’s basement, the blond had to face the fact that this really devastatingly handsome werewolf wanted him as a mate and a part of him strongly returned the sentiment.

What the fuck was he supposed to do? Really? It was all up to him and he just felt frozen in indecision. Why exactly did he want to bite Ryan? What would being a mate to a werewolf really mean, especially to a male werewolf? What the hell had he gotten himself into by not running out the door the moment he had seen Ryan step into class that day?

“Your scent is different from last time,” Ryan finally spoke when Shane continued to shoot him sideway glances and refused to move. The werewolf’s voice was so deep and low it could have been a caress. The brunette’s muscles had puffed up again, the boy giving off such an intense, sexually charged scent, it was a wonder Ryan could smell Shane at all. But it was clear he could, the boy dipping closer, pressing his face to the skin of Shane’s throat and inhaling deeply. It sent a shudder of heat through the blond, Shane’s hand reaching up to grasp the werewolf’s bicep, the flesh hard and straining under Ryan’s t-shirt.

Shane kept his eyes closed, his confused thoughts slowly slipping away the longer he pressed against Ryan’s hot form. Touch was grounding. Ryan’s solid, sweat-damp flesh and hard muscles were very real even if Shane felt somewhat lost and out of his depth. He breathed in deep, their chests brushing from his inhale.

“You smell the same,” Shane finally whispered, daring to open his eyes to find Ryan’s ice-blue orbs fringed in black staring back at him. The boy was still full of the wolf, the heat having made Ryan more aggressive and animalistic. Shane was certain because before Ryan Moss had gone into heat he never had suspected the boy was a werewolf. He had always been quiet, smart, and patient; Ryan had never been the kind of crazy, aggressive fucker that screamed of testosterone driven wolf. Now that he knew, it was a thrill to discover such power and need hiding right beneath the brunette’s calm, familiar surface. It was as if Ryan’s animal had come out just for him and there was something totally sexy about it.

Ryan gave a slow smile, revealing unnaturally sharp fangs as his gaze swept down Shane’s form. “You recognize my scent, babe? After only one day together?”

Shane nodded, blushing slightly. “Is that weird?”

“I have no clue,” Ryan answered honestly. “Never had a mate before. It’s kind of a one-time thing with wolves. And it’s not like I’ve spent a lot of time with my pack asking about this stuff.” He paused, leaning forward again, Shane holding his breath when lips brushed lightly against the corner of his mouth. “I know it makes me happy. I’m really happy to have you recognize me.”

Something warm welled up in Shane’s chest and before he realized it, he was fumbling backward, the car door biting into his back as he tried to put some distance between them. Ryan watched him silently, a bemused smirk gracing his lips when the blond flushed and ducked his head.

“I… um…” Shane couldn’t meet the boy’s gaze, his mouth unbearably dry all of a sudden. God, what the fuck was he doing? What were his parents going to say when they found out he had been bitten by a werewolf? A male werewolf. Ryan’s hand brushed over his knee and Shane exhaled shakily. A really fucking gay werewolf.

Was he gay? Wanting to let a guy fuck him would probably mean he was totally gay. God, he really couldn’t be gay.

“You going to sit in the car all day?”

Shane shook his head, not willing to explain himself as he tried to ignore the heat radiating off of Ryan’s hand. He could barely think properly but he was pretty sure he was fucking up his entire life. His father was going to kill him if he came home gay. Not just gay, but mated to a werewolf. Wolf shifters were outcasts at the very least, total crazy ass killers at the worst. Was he going to, like, move out into the wilds with Ryan? Give up on his plans of running one of his father’s companies? Stop competing in swimming—Did werewolves swim? Would he have to give up his car in some weird equality to animals thing and start hunting or some shit?

Ryan continued to watch, Shane’s expression growing more and more distressed as the silence stretched on. He could scent the anxiety coming from the boy and could see it in the way Shane’s breath was strained and huffing too fast. He snagged the blond’s chin, Shane gasping as he was pulled from his anxious thoughts right into Ryan’s eyes. Ryan’s grin spread wide the longer Shane blushed, the blond’s glare narrowing angrily in response.

“Sexy, didn’t you just kiss me? In front of a hall full of people?” Ryan reminded softly, his smile tinged with a mocking hint he did nothing to hide.

Shane huffed, looking away. “I was swept up.”

Grinning wolfishly, Ryan leaned close until Shane was forced to press back against the door or kiss the boy. Shane chose the door, his chin tilted defiantly. “Swept up with being at total fag for me, right?”

“Fuck off,” Shane growled, pushing his hands up only to pause, his palms flat against Ryan’s chest. Fuck, he was strong and it made him feel so hot. “I’m not a… Well…” He couldn’t get the word out, Ryan’s intense, burning gaze making his stomach feel like a swarm of butterflies was trying to escape. He had done a shit ton of things with Ryan he was pretty sure was defined as really, totally gay. But somehow admitting to it was just too much to face, especially when Ryan was smirking at him like a damn bastard. “You tied me up.”

“Not the whole time,” Ryan replied lowly. “Not when you were upstairs.”

Shane glared sideways, their gaze touching a moment before he looked away. Heat was pooling through him at the memory and it was only making him more flustered. “You… uh… cornered me,” he mumbled, “In the shower.”

“Is that why you started touching yourself?” Ryan taunted in his ear, Shane shivering in response. “You thought the scary werewolf was going to hurt you if you didn’t act like a total cock slut?”

“Damn you,” Shane hissed, his body jolting from the light scrape of Ryan’s teeth on his throat. “You know you’re fucking stronger than me, Moss, you fucking pain. You can’t assume I was acting out of, well…” He refused to say desire, refused to admit to anything, especially when Ryan was right there making him feel so hot and confused.

Ryan grinned, Shane feeling it against his neck. “So you only let the strong guys fuck you, babe?”

“You motherfucking ass—I’m not gay!” Snarling, Shane went to shove the brunette back only to have his wrists caught in Ryan’s vicelike grip. He gasped, his anger draining away as quickly as it took to feel the werewolf’s hard dick press against the flat planes of his abs. He fought back a whimper, Ryan’s lips teasing over his neck while the brunette yanked him forward in his grip. Before Shane knew what was happening, Ryan had his arms behind his back, his shirt ripped and pulled from him, and then his wrists bound in the fabric with quick, confident movements.

Ryan sat back, watching the emotions slowly dawn across the blond’s face. Shane pulled at his arms a few times, his cheeks and neck turning red as he blinked down at the seat when he couldn’t get free.

Trapped. He was caught, trapped, and it was spiraling a dizzying heat through him that was threatening to drown him in lust. Shane dared to peek up at Ryan, the brunette’s ever watching gaze making his mouth go dry. He had to know. Ryan had to know what he was doing to him by first baiting him to anger and then just taking all his frustrating choices away. Given the somewhat smug look in the werewolf’s eye, Shane was pretty sure Ryan knew exactly what he was doing to him, especially when his stare moved down his bare chest and abs to where Shane’s erection was tenting his jeans.

Shane held his breath when Ryan reached for him, the brunette’s fingertips teasing slowly up his side. He shivered at the realization that he couldn’t get away. That even if he wanted to, which he still wasn’t sure that he did, he was very much under Ryan’s power. The brunette’s thumb brushed his nipple, Shane hissing out in surprise. Ryan ran a circle around the nub, doing it again when the blond gave a whimper. Shane hadn’t realized his nipples were even remotely erogenous until Ryan had shown an interest in them, his chest muscles flexing with each tormenting touch.

Ryan ducked closer, watching Shane’s face as the blond stared down engrossed at what his hand was doing. Shane’s lips were parted, his brows furrowed, breath coming out in fast puffs of heat. With his short blond hair, sharp, dark eyes, and flushed skin, the boy was breathtaking as he gasped in pleasure. Ryan stilled his assault, gently squeezing Shane’s nipple between thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck,” Shane whimpered, his eyes closing as he pushed into the touch. Ryan squeezed harder, twisting until the blond released a weak moan and threw his head back.

“You are fucking gorgeous,” Ryan murmured, kissing Shane’s parted lips. The touch was feather light, Shane trying to get more contact only to have the brunette hover just out of reach. Ryan continued to torment his red bud, alternating between sharp tugs and gentle circles with his thumb while he kissed down Shane’s exposed throat.

Shane felt like he was going to hyperventilate. The last time Ryan had tied him up, the boy had been barely controlled, all desperate hard sex and crazed werewolf heat. Although certainly hard, Ryan’s movements were completely different now. Shane was forced to feel every touch, process every sensation as his nerve endings zapped just from Ryan’s shirt brushing his bare chest. Ryan’s lips tingled on his throat, Shane tilting his head even further back as teeth scraped wet across his flesh.

Shane groaned when the brunette dipped lower, silky strands of hair tickling his collarbone and bicep. Ryan’s mouth suddenly latched onto his already tingling nipple, Shane gasping and jerking from the feel of heat and wet. Teeth nipped at the bud and Shane couldn’t stop his loud cry, his back arching and nearly bucking the brunette off him from the force of the move. He could feel Ryan smile against his chest and he knew it was smug. Fuck, but he just couldn’t stop reacting to everything the boy did, be it fighting or fucking. How did Ryan do it to him every damn time?

Strong hands slid down his torso, Shane jolting when fingers slipped into his waistband and unbuttoned the clasp. He held his breath, his stomach muscles trembling with each light brush of knuckles to his flesh. He could feel sweat trickle down his back, making his flesh slippery beneath the werewolf’s hands. Ryan’s breath was molten against his neck, the brunette growling lowly as he unzipped Shane’s jeans and released his aching erection from the tight confines.

Shane blinked his eyes open when Ryan sat back, meeting the boy’s gaze with confusion. Ryan just smirked and grabbed the blond’s ankle, Shane gasping in surprise as his sneakers and socks were pulled free and thrown to the floor. Ryan tugged Shane’s jeans down his thighs immediately after, the blond left in nothing but his briefs.

Ryan was staring at him with a heavy-lidded gaze, Shane’s breathing speeding up in response to the look the werewolf was giving him. He was caught, trapped, and now nearly naked. Shane looked up at him wide-eyed, gulping as Ryan hooked a finger into the band of his underwear and slowly pulled the fabric forward. He thought Ryan might say something, might taunt him for just how crazy he was acting from just a few touches by a guy. The silence was somehow worse, Shane’s gasps filling the car as Ryan slowly worked the blond’s underwear down his damp hips and thighs. Shane was left panting, hands tied behind his back. With his golden body hair shaved for swimming, there was nothing to obscure his flushed dick rising rigid from between his thighs.

“You’re longer. A bit thicker,” Ryan finally said, glancing up from his interested perusal of Shane’s cock for confirmation.

Swallowing, Shane nodded hesitantly. Along with his dick, all of the blond’s body had changed in subtle ways after being bit by Ryan. He didn’t have a knot, thank god, but on top of feeling stronger with better endurance, he had transformed in ways only someone really familiar with his body would notice. It had only been one day together a week ago but Shane had to acknowledge that Ryan had memorized his body already.

Ryan’s hand slipped lower, his palm cupping and caressing the blond’s balls. Shane fought back a moan, his leg slipping off the seat when he spread his thighs wider to give the boy access. Ryan bent down close, breathing deep and sighing as Shane’s musk filled his senses. He growled on his exhale, Shane shuddering to feel the heat on his hip when Ryan quickly tore his underwear down the rest of the way, stripping him of the last of his clothes.

Fuck, he was going to lose his mind. Shane was hyper conscious of the fact he was naked in his car, the leather seats clinging to the back of his thighs, his arms pulled tight behind his back where they were bound. Ryan’s jeans were coarse as they scraped his legs, the boy’s hands rough and possessive as he pushed Shane’s knee up, spreading the blond open wide. It left him feeling vulnerable in a way he only ever felt with Ryan—Maybe because the werewolf kept putting him in these situations. Or more likely, because Shane had always felt raw and frayed when it came to Ryan Moss and having the boy touch him only increased that feeling tenfold.

“Wider, babe. Yeah, right there.” Glaring down at Shane’s nearly pained expression, the blond’s eyes closed and lips parted for each ragged breath, Ryan ran his hand up the boy’s inner thigh, squeezing the hard muscle. Shane groaned, jolting into his touch, a cry spilling free when Ryan suddenly folded down between his legs and licked his tongue up his dick from root to twitching tip. He paused at the top, stealing into his slit and tasting the precum beading there.

“Fuck—Oh, fuck,” Shane mumbled, sinking down the seat, his neck and shoulders scrunched uncomfortably against the door when the brunette grabbed him by the hips and wrenched him closer. He whimpered lowly with every gentle nuzzle of Ryan’s lips and nose between his thighs, his aching dick ignored, balls teased with a soft kiss right before Ryan’s wide tongue licked along his crack and plunged into his hole. “Fuck!”

Ryan hummed at the blond’s surprised yelp, using his thumbs to spread Shane’s hole open so he could drive his tongue in deep. Shane twisted and jerked beneath him but the boy had no leverage to escape, reduced to aching groans, gasping cries, and flexing feet as he was eaten out ravenously.

His hands clutching uselessly behind his back, Shane’s face and dick fought for all the blood in his body as his legs were directed over Ryan’s broad shoulders, the brunette angling him for better admittance. The werewolf kept groaning hungrily, the sound vibrating through Shane’s entire body as his hole was stretched and thoroughly lubricated with hot saliva. He was mortified; if anyone happened by the car and saw, there would be no question to what was happening. Ryan had his tongue up his ass and it was so dirty and messed up and felt, fuck, so unbelievably amazing. If anyone saw, they would know he liked it, would know that the broken cries he kept releasing were for more and deeper, and if Shane could only get his balance he’d be trying to get Ryan’s thick cock inside him again.

He could remember it so clearly—how overwhelming Ryan had felt filling his passage with his large dick. It had been too much, too long and thick and god, his knot had swollen so much. It had been a glorious insanity that Shane wasn’t sure how he’d survived. He was still confused, still unsure, but a part of him had been craving it ever since. He needed it. He needed Ryan so bad. He couldn’t understand just what the fuck was happening to him and he was certain he was going crazy.

“That’s it, you sexy little hole.” Licking the raw corner of his lips, Ryan pulled back enough to tease a finger over Shane’s wet, swollen pucker, swirling gently as he worked his way past the boy’s tight ring of muscle. He couldn’t seem to stop himself, his tongue again following and plunging deep into the blond’s hot flesh. He loved the taste of his mate, loved the moans Shane made as the boy rocked and quickly became undone with everything he did to him. Shane was his. The blond’s body knew and begged for him. He was his mate and fuck, he had missed the mouthy bastard.

Nipping Shane’s trembling inner thigh, Ryan waited for the blond to unclench once the pain faded to a burn, then immediately plunged two fingers into the boy’s hole. Shane sobbed, his body jerking uselessly as he squirmed from the sensation of his passage being filled. Ryan didn’t let up, stretching him relentlessly, gliding his thick digits in and out of the boy’s flesh to make Shane ready for his cock and knot.

God, when the angry boy had kissed him it had been the sexiest fucking thing. Almost as sexy as Shane gasping now, opening to him readily even for all his words of denial. The boy would remember once they were together again. He couldn’t expect Shane to change overnight after a lifetime of being defensive as fuck about his sexuality and talking shit about gays. Hell, they had fought since day one—And really, Ryan wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change overnight either. He liked fighting with Shane. He liked seeing the kid’s face flush in anger almost as much as it looked moaning in pleasure. Ryan had no problem taking things slow with them getting to know each other. Just as long as Shane relented to being his mate and accepted the many ways that role would be enjoyable for the two of them.

“God, Ryan, please… Fuck, please.”

Ryan couldn’t ignore the blond’s desperate cries any longer, his attention pulled up the boy’s flexing muscles. He found Shane’s handsome face, his dark eyes slitted open, cheeks flushed and streaked with tears. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was from the helplessness of the boy’s situation or just how fucking aching Shane was over him, but he loved seeing the blond fall apart. He straightened up, leaning over the boy’s crunched position, unable to stop from looking down at Shane’s quivering form a moment before meeting his smoldering eyes again. “You need it, babe? Do you need me to fill you?”

His eyes closing, Shane shuddered with a low whimper. Ryan pushed his fingers deeper into the blond’s clenching flesh, the third digit stretching him wider than before. Shane couldn’t help that he loved it just as much as he couldn’t stop how embarrassed he was by that fact. The absolute intimacy of being in the car wasn’t helping his problem. Their sweaty bodies had heated up the small space, the seat under him squeaking, Ryan’s rough jeans above him as the brunette ground his hard dick against his hip. He had been so big inside him last time. So overwhelming. Shane had barely known who he was by the end of it.

“Babe?” Ryan nipped Shane’s ear, his free hand sliding up the blond’s hard torso. “Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”

Forcing his eyes open, Shane met Ryan’s heated stare hesitantly. “I… I don’t know,” he whispered weakly, his lips wet and red. Ryan’s scent was everywhere, mixing with his own arousal and confusing him even more.

Ryan took in Shane’s debauched form, the blond naked, short hair mussed and expression full of torment. He was sexy as fuck and he had little interest in waiting any longer for Shane to figure his shit out. He gave a small growl, wrapping the blond around the waist and pulling him off the door and into his arms. Shane gasped, staring down blankly at the werewolf’s chest while he panted softly, Ryan’s hands moving over his back and down to his ass.

“Sexy, I have a damn good idea what you need right now and I am so fucking ready to give it to you,” Ryan murmured, exhaling unsteadily as he tasted the boy’s flesh and sweat. “You’re my mate, and you’re so hard that it has to hurt. You need me, babe. You gotta know you need me.” He peeled his own t-shirt off, half tearing it in his haste. When Ryan pressed his bare chest to Shane’s, the blond moaned and tried to push up against him tighter. “That’s right,” Ryan whispered. “This is what your mate feels like.”

Shane swallowed hard, his body burning from the feel of Ryan’s flesh. The werewolf’s hands gripped his wrists behind his back for a moment, Shane’s dick twitching in response. No choice now. No choice and, god, Ryan could do anything to him. The boy was so strong, so powerful, and he wanted only him. There was nothing he could do to stop him—Nothing he wanted to do, anyways. Shane kept silent, panting in anticipation.

His forehead resting against the blond’s, Ryan unzipped his own jeans, sliding them down his hips. He pushed his underwear aside, revealing his hard, thick dick slick with precum. The knot low on the boy’s length was already partially swollen and flushed with color. Ryan’s hand wrapped around his shaft, Shane fighting back a moan when he watched precum drizzle from the boy’s slit and drip down his flushed crown and over his fingers.

There was an unspoken question in Ryan’s eyes, one Shane was trying really hard to ignore when the brunette pushed him back against the door. Shane’s gaze kept drifting down to where Ryan was touching himself, remembering just how it had felt to have that hard length inside him. He forced his eyes up, blushing at the hungry glare fixed on him. Fuck. Fuck, he knew that look. That look had once had him begging in the shower for Ryan to fuck him. That look had gotten him so hot he had nearly let the werewolf take him in the fucking classroom. Now tied up and cornered against the door with the steering wheel restricting his movements, Shane felt the strange ache inside him grow that seemed to go hand in hand with Ryan’s burning stare.

Shane closed his eyes, groaning softly as his body responded—nipples hard, dick twitching, ass clenching—from just one damn look. There was nowhere to go. Nothing between them at all. He was naked, Ryan was dripping precum, and he knew what his mate wanted.

“Ryan,” Shane finally spoke, unable to handle the feelings welling in his body any longer. His voice sounded hoarse and strange in his ears, reflecting the desperation he was trying and failing to hide. He needed to be touched. He needed to be touched and not just stared at and left feeling so needy. He just didn’t know how to admit it.

It was some sort of signal for the werewolf, Ryan growling and straddling Shane’s waist as the blond gulped and hesitantly met glaring blue eyes. Ryan’s hips shifted forward, hot, sticky fluid dripping down both their damp skin. Shane couldn’t turn his gaze away once he looked down, his body shuddering hotly from the sight of Ryan stroking himself.

His breath coming out in ragged pants, Shane held himself still, groaning when Ryan rubbed his cock up against his abs, the brunette kneeling taller to reach his chest and smear his precum over his hot flesh so it would drip down. Fluid hit the bottom of his jaw and Shane jolted, hissing in anticipation. Ryan’s hand wrapped around the back of his head, the brunette pulling him down and guiding his mouth to the top of the werewolf’s cock.

Ryan’s dick was still too big to be normal but Shane was much less overwhelmed this time, his mouth watering from the first touch of hot flesh to his tongue. Ryan let him get used to the feel, the weight, slowly feeding him just the first few inches of his dick while the blond’s lips stretched to accommodate. Shane opened wide, running his tongue over the blunt tip, hating and loving how hot he got from sucking the boy’s dick. Fuck, but it made him hot. He teased the tip of his tongue into Ryan’s slit, groaning when he was rewarded with a hot spurt of slightly bitter liquid.

“Ryan,” Shane whimpered, craning his neck forward so he could reach more and lick down the boy’s throbbing shaft. The car was filled with the sounds of his own desperate, wet sucking and Ryan’s quiet pants for air. It made him feel dizzy, wild, Shane’s eyes closing as he gave in to the sensations he had been fighting. With dripping, trembling lips, he mouthed down the brunette’s thick cock, sucking on the swollen knot that had tormented him, laving it thoroughly with heated strokes. He wanted to make Ryan come. He wanted to get the boy so hot, he wouldn’t care just how fucking annoying Shane could be at times. And if he could get Ryan to blow like this, Shane was pretty sure it would mean he had won this round.

Growling as more of his precum streamed down his dick and streaked the blond’s face, Ryan tightened his hand in Shane’s hair. He pulled him back to the task at the top of his long length, groaning when Shane stubbornly gave a final suck to his knot in parting. Pushing his thumb between the blond’s red lips, Ryan glared down, his wolf howling to hurry up and claim the dazed, wickedly grinning boy currently teasing his tongue over the fluid wet on his fingers. Instead, he fought the urge, wanting to see just how obedient, if at all, his mate had grown since they’d been apart. He gripped the nape of Shane’s neck hard, watching the boy’s dark eyes widen for a moment before the blond opened to his thrusting cock.

Shane surrendered to the thick flesh, focusing on his lost breath and the feeling of his mouth and throat being taken by Ryan’s firm pumps. His jaw quickly grew sore, his lips weak from clenching and trying to grip the boy’s dick into his mouth. He could feel Ryan’s knot swell with every inward thrust, his precum growing thicker and more flavorful as it began to flood his mouth along with his saliva. He wanted to grab the werewolf’s legs for balance but with his hands tied, Shane was left tightening his abs to keep from falling back, his feet gripping the seat for purchase. It felt like something was melting inside him, loosening even while his erection throbbed and his hole clenched for attention. Ryan’s knot gave another twitch against his lips and Shane moaned, opening as wide as he could and trying to swallow him down.

He was going to come. God, just having Ryan’s dick in his mouth, taking his throat made him so hard he was going to come. His eyes squeezed shut, Shane tried to fight off the pressure rising in him, his moans reverberating through the brunette’s body. It was one thing to get off because Ryan was touching him, doing things to him that he couldn’t ignore the pleasure in. But to come from just the feel of the boy’s dick in his mouth? It spoke of things he didn’t want to face, things that were only getting worse with every thrust against his tonsils.

“Fuck, babe… Fuck,” Ryan rasped out, holding Shane still so he could hump deep into the boy’s throat, spurting more hot precum onto his tongue. He pulled out abruptly, his breathing strained, pupils oddly narrow as he ran his hand up and down Shane’s wet cheek and jaw, spreading the fluid that had collected down the blond’s throat. “You look so fucking sexy like this.”

Flushing, Shane looked up at him, swaying when Ryan released the grip on his face. He was aching, felt so lost and desperate and unbearably hard. He wanted release but there was no ignoring the demanding look in the werewolf’s eyes. It was inevitable. With Ryan pointing his monster sized cock at him slick with his saliva, there was only one obvious course of events.

“W-Wait,” Shane whispered, his voice cracking when Ryan pushed him back against the door.

“No. I waited a fucking week.” Ryan grabbed the boy’s throat with one hand and Shane’s leg with the other, settling between the blond’s thighs. Shane closed his eyes, the grip on his neck making him hot and weak all at once. “I waited that damn class and the drive here,” Ryan continued softer, his eyes taking in the blond’s red cheeks and swollen lips. “I waited ten fucking years for you to grow the fuck up and look at me like a man. I’m done waiting, babe. I need you and I know you need me. I know.”

Exhaling unsteadily, Shane blinked his eyes open, immediately caught in the werewolf’s gaze. Had Ryan liked him for that long? Even though he had been a total ass to the boy? Even when most days of his childhood he had felt like an absolute failure with no one that gave a fuck about him? Ryan had still seen something in him he liked?

Shane was pulled from his thoughts with a gasp, strong hands grasping his hips and pulling him up Ryan’s muscular thighs. The brunette’s dick pressed relentless between his cheeks, thick and dripping wet as it slipped and settled tight against his opening. He couldn’t stop the sudden anxiety, that same feeling of emptiness and fullness in his chest making him want to run and get as far away as possible.

“Fuck, fuck… Just hold on,” Shane whimpered, groaning when Ryan ignored him and pushed harder, his entrance slowly stretching to contain the brunette’s tip. Ryan’s hands held him in place, his hot mouth sucking at the scar where he had bitten and claimed him as his mate. Shane arched as he was breached, his breath coming out in a blast as he felt Ryan slowly and mercilessly penetrate him. “Big,” he gasped out, his head lolling back. “So big.”

“I have you,” Ryan whispered fiercely, holding the blond upright, Shane unable to do anything in his tied position besides open to him, and moan, and beg. He was trying to hold back, trying to be more considerate this time now that the crazed heat and anger had left him. But having Shane clenching around his dick, the boy’s perfect body arching and giving in to him was just too much. He’d been dreaming of this moment, had been certain he had fucked everything up, and he just needed Shane too much to slow down.

Groaning, Shane lurched forward, burying his face against the sweaty flesh of Ryan’s neck, the brunette fucking into him deeper, pumping in again and again while the blond gasped and trembled around the overwhelming sensations. Without his arms, he couldn’t get any purchase, forced to ride out every rough thrust of Ryan’s hips, his body rocking with the brunette’s hard movements. Teeth nipped at his neck and he jolted, squeezing the thick flesh filling him impossibly tight. It sent a shudder through him, knowing Ryan was inside him again, his seed soon to be slicking the walls of his tight passage, claiming him, owning him in a way he had never understood he’d wanted until a week ago.

Ryan pushed him back roughly against the door, growling as he followed right after. He spread Shane’s thighs wider and bent his knee up, gripping him tight. Shane met his piercing stare, moaning weakly when he felt Ryan’s swollen knot start to stretch into his entrance, the thick flesh forcing him wider with each agonizing thrust.

“Fuck… Oh, fuck.” Shane’s head fell back against the window, his eyelids slit as he struggled to rise above the insane feeling of Ryan working his knot into him.

“That’s it. Open to me, babe… That’s my boy.” Taking in the tears teasing down the blond’s face, Ryan lapped his tongue out and groaned as he got another inch deeper. “Missed you, sexy. Missed you so bad—Fuck.” He growled, kissing Shane’s gasping lips roughly. “You are so fucking tight for me.”

Crying out as the thick flesh surged deeper into him again, stretching him so wide, Shane’s arms flexed, something inhuman rippling through his muscles in a wave. The fabric tied around his wrists snapped, his arms automatically rising to grab Ryan’s shoulders so he could gain some leverage and relief from the insane feeling of being so full. Ryan grinned savagely and wrapped tight around the boy’s chest in response, biting the blond’s neck hard until Shane shuddered and relented. The werewolf pinned him with his body, dominating him completely with his full strength and deep thrusts, working his swollen knot into him while Shane’s moans increased in pitch.

“Fuck, that’s it… That’s it, babe.” Groaning, Ryan surged the final inch forward, settling deep into Shane’s tight passage. “Mine. You’re fucking mine.”

Shane shouted hoarsely, his hands clinging to the brunette’s wide shoulders. Ryan’s knot swelled almost immediately, locking the boy’s thick cock inside his aching channel. It was impossibly large and Shane was certain he was going to cum at any second from the sheer intensity. “Can’t—Fuck, it’s too much,” he moaned, shuddering as he felt the first splash of hot liquid inside him.

“You’re doing it,” Ryan growled, kissing the boy’s face and jaw while Shane whimpered and gasped. “You were made for me. Made for my knot. Made to be bred.” His fingers bruised into Shane’s flesh, his hips rocking erratically as he fucked the blond’s hot, tight passage, determined to fill him with every gush of his seed. Shane’s tormented cries were pure music, the boy’s body both taut with pleasure and lax in pain. Ryan reached for the blond’s dick, palming him slowly, wanting to draw Shane’s cries out as much as possible, especially when it resulted in the boy clenching on his knot, milking his cum from him with his tight passage.

“My mate,” he growled lowly, kissing the dazed boy. Shane mumbled something against his neck, the blond shuddering, sweating, jolting with every shallow hump as his prostate was stroked again and again. “You’re there, Shane… Come for me. Show me how much you love this.” He jerked Shane’s throbbing length firmly, groaning when the blond gaped wide and shouted. Ryan forced his tongue into the boy’s perfect mouth even as Shane bucked in his grasp, the blond coming all over his hand and both their stomachs. Shane whimpered against his lips as more cum streamed from him, the blond’s body tense and straining as he splattered them both.

Shane fought to breathe, Ryan’s mouth threatening to steal the last thread of his sanity. He glanced down as his moans slowly faded, shuddering when he found himself covered in pearly streams, Ryan’s chest and abdomen sticking to his. Fuck, he might not have had a knot and it might not have been to the same copious level, but he was definitely not fully human anymore.

He started, gasping as Ryan’s hot tongue dipped down, licking at the spatters of seed that had reached up his chest. Shane would have protested, tried to, but Ryan was still humping slowly into him, gushing the last of his semen into him while his strong arms held him tight. The brunette kept kissing him, tasting his cum, teasing his tingling flesh with lips and tongue and teeth. All Shane could do was sigh, waiting for the boy’s knot to fully deflate, seed dripping from between his cheeks as the werewolf devoured him at his leisure.

Ryan nipped his shoulder and Shane jerked, a wave of dizziness crashing over him. His teeth gave a strange itch, dull pain throbbing in his jaw. Bite. He needed to bite Ryan. His mate.

But it was like a commitment, wasn’t it? Like saying he was definitely gay as fuck. His dad would kill him. Coopers weren’t allowed to be gay. They weren’t allowed to be anything but perfect. Shane had never been a good Cooper and he was starting to fear that he wouldn’t be a Cooper at all for much longer.

“Babe… You okay?”

Fighting with the strange feelings inside, Shane barely heard Ryan’s voice from far away. Was he alright? He was pretty sure he was feeling good. Really good. He was a total fuck up that couldn’t do anything right but at least he felt good.

Ryan Moss had just stepped in the door and already regretted coming to school. He could feel the heat coming over him, each wave stronger than the last and threatening to cascade into a fever he wasn’t sure he could contain. He had to, he had exams and classes and needed to keep his fucking shit together. It was just getting surprisingly difficult.

He hadn’t actually expected to actually feel hot but, fuck, he was seriously sweating. His backpack felt attached to his flesh, his thin t-shirt nothing more than a second skin at this point. He had jogged to school like he always did, the morning air a cool contrast to the exercise, but his body wasn’t responding right. He had gotten there in half the time, his first class not starting for another twenty minutes. The muscles of his strong, tanned, six-foot-seven-inch frame were bulging and currently drenched with moisture, his dark bangs dripping into his pale eyes covered by sunglasses. He didn’t dare take the lenses off; his normally deep blue eyes had turned nearly white, his pupils a pinprick and reflecting the torment of his inner wolf.

Fuck, he was feeling really hot. Horny. Had he mentioned horny? Crazy, hot, and horny. He was about ready to hump the library book drop-off slot, he was feeling so crazy. Damn Mr. Menson and his fucking calculus exam.

His older brother Will had warned him, had told him how it hadn’t mattered how determined and focused he was, there was no fighting the heat. But Will wasn’t like him. Will belonged in the woods with the rest of their family while Ryan passed with the humans. No one had pegged him for a werewolf the last twenty years of his life and if he could just make it through this week, he was damn sure he could make it through a lifetime pretending to be two-legged and furless with an actual fucking career.

Being the first werewolf to graduate in his family probably would have been a bigger deal if his family gave a fuck. They didn’t. Ryan was a bit of the laughingstock with his wild relatives who were more than happy to dance under the moon after howling and hunting their dinner first. Not that he had anything against being a wolf. But times were changing—Fuck, they were already so changed that the pack was facing extinction. His family was screwing around in the woods instead of learning how to defend their land from the encroaching companies looking to mine through land and animal alike for dwindling fossil fuels.

Maybe it was unrealistic to hope his wild cousins would skin up and lawyer up after a lifetime of rooting around in the forest. Maybe he was a total tool for thinking he could fix what they had failed to even attempt. Well, besides the murdering. The pack had gotten damn good at killing the poor innocents that trespassed on their land for drilling. It was a problem, one Ryan was hoping to eventually solve no matter how dismissive his family got about him leaving the pack.

And fuck, now he was hard.

What part of needing to become the smartest fucking werewolf out there and get into law was getting him hard?

Growling to himself, Ryan pulled at his shirt, the soaked material stubbornly sticking to his skin even though he was in the air-conditioned hallway that led to his class. It did nothing helpful, his nerve endings tingling from the simple feel of fabric against his flesh, his nipples peaking, cock twitching. His calculus class was right after his first-period history class with Mr. Edwards. He just needed to get through the stupid exam and he could go home and masturbate until he was raw.

This thought hot in the forefront of his mind, Ryan forced himself to walk towards his next class, trying to ignore the way his skin was tingling, his muscles puffed up too large, stature too aggressive and intimidating. He knew he was acting more wolf than man that day and he was having a hard time curbing the beast. It was horny—unbearably horny—and the damn thing kept fixating, staring at every person that dared close, scenting, seeking. Thank fuck the place was nearly deserted. Showing up early had one good advantage. God, he needed sex. Preferably with a drop dead sexy guy with strong thighs and hard abs. Someone strong enough to handle the marathon of fucking his wolf was up for. It would be a marathon. A week at least, if he found a sexy enough body he could convince to spread for him.

“Mr. Cooper, I was clear with you. Take it up with the Administration board if you think you’re being treated unfairly. I don’t care. Just get the hell out of my class.”

“Bullshit! Do you even know how much money my parents donate to this shit joke of a school? I need to pass this course!”

Ryan rolled his eyes as Shane Cooper’s privileged, snobby ass voice reached his super sensitive hearing through the door that led to his first class of the day. Shane and him had gone to grade school together, giving Ryan many a year to hate the obnoxious bully. Shane thought he was better than everyone. More so, that he deserved to be better than everyone just because the kid’s parents were richer than fuck. Ryan had spent the better part of his education finding himself in competition with the rich snob. Not because he was trying to compete with the kid but because Shane hated anyone smarter than him. Ryan was happy to say he was fucking smarter. He was stronger, faster, and had all intentions of beating Shane Cooper at anything the annoying fucker challenged him at. Seeing the blond’s face flushed with anger every time he beat him only made it sweeter.

Professor Edwards seemed even less impressed with Shane’s parents if Ryan guessed by the man’s next words. “I have warned you numerous times what would happen if you continued to be late for my class, Mr. Cooper. If you can’t be bothered to show up on time, I can’t be bothered to teach you.”

Ryan could see where this was going, two other students already kicked out of their history class since the semester started. Shane apparently could too, his tone changing to one of pleading. “I told you, I have swimming practice. I get here as soon as humanly possible and—”

“It is not my fault that you didn’t plan your schedule better. Perhaps dropping my class would be a boon to you.”

“Damn it, please, Professor. I need this class. Can we work something out? I’m sure you could use a little help towards retirement and I’m always happy to donate to education.”

“Fucktard,” Ryan sighed. He counted silently to himself, giving his professor enough credit for not actually slugging the annoying brat.

“Mr. Cooper, I will give you a week to allow you to reconsider your stance on this particular topic.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“I mean I will be informing the Dean of this conversation. If you are seen on school property during the next week, you will be permanently expelled. The next time you arrive for my class in a week’s time you can either be on time or expect to be removed from it. Now leave.”

The door to the class snapped open, Ryan stepping back before Shane could storm into him. The tall blond stopped short on seeing him, his angry scowl only growing. “Get the fuck out of my way, faggot.”

Ryan refused, too busy staring at the angry boy. Shane Cooper was the absolute bane of his existence but today his wolf was at the surface and the animal didn’t seem to give a fuck about that. No, it was too busy howling at the way Shane’s broad shoulders stretched his stupid preppy shirt and his designer jeans clung to his hips and tight, muscular ass. Damn, he could fuck that. Hell, he wouldn’t even have to bag the kid—Shane was hot all around except for his ugly-ass mouth with the stupid shit he was always saying. His dirty blond hair was kept short and spiky, making his nearly black eyes look even more intense when the kid glared at him. All he’d have to do is gag the annoying punk and then he could happily fuck him senseless. Shane would look good in a gag. In a gag and absolutely nothing else.

Closing his eyes, Ryan took a steadying breath and tried to calm his suddenly pounding heart. Fuck, he really shouldn’t have come in today. He had to be fucked in the head to ever think of Shane Cooper as fuckable. He hated Shane. Absolutely hated him.

There had been a time when Shane had been taller than him. The blond had taken huge amounts of joy in it even though Ryan had always been able to outrun the annoying fucker. Now Ryan’s bicep was nearly thicker than Shane’s head. Even though he was well aware of it, the blond who was half a head shorter than him seemed oblivious as he snarled and went to push past him.

Shane hit him square in the chest but Ryan didn’t budge, a soft growl rising up from the brunette as he caught a whiff of the boy’s scent. Holy fuck, yeah, he could totally hit that. Not only did he look like sex, the kid smelled like it too. Ryan’s wolf gave another inner howl, heat rushing over his skin like wildfire.

“I said, get the fuck out of my way, you fudge packing, panty wearing fairy!” Shane went to shove him but Ryan was faster. He grabbed the blond’s wrist, ignoring the hiss it was met with when he squeezed too tight. Shane might have thought he was tough shit, but against a werewolf, the boy’s perfect swimmer’s body might as well have been ornamental. With an angry snarl, Shane went to punch him with his free hand, Ryan easily catching that one as well and pinning it in his larger palm.

Looking into the boy’s dark, wide eyes, Ryan did everything he could to fight the beast inside him that was demanding he push Shane Cooper against the wall, tear his tight jeans down, and fuck him raw.

“Moss, get the fuck off me.”

There was a new tightness to the blond’s voice, something that broke through the hazy heat trying to steal Ryan’s mind completely. Shane was not a werewolf. Fuck, he wasn’t even a potential mate—The kid was an angry, gay hating, rich punk that couldn’t face the real world without his parents’ money to fix all his fuck ups.

God, but he smelled so fucking good. Looked so fucking tight and hard and fucking hot. The stupid fucker could get in his face and talk shit all he liked, just as long as he kept smelling like that. Fuck, he wanted to rape him. Just a little. Just until the blond was begging. He could make Shane beg. He could make him beg like a good bitch. Or just cripple the annoying fucker and do whatever the fuck he wanted to him.

Fuck, he was turning into a total psycho. Ryan dropped Shane’s hands before he could convince himself otherwise, turning and taking two large strides away, his breath loud in his ears. The heat was only getting stronger and the annoying little punk just smelled so good to him. Bullshit—Fucking bullshit. He hated Shane.

“What the fuck is your problem, Moss?” Shane snapped, rubbing his wrist, a red mark threatening to turn purple where the brunette had grabbed him. “Choke on the wrong side of the dick today?”

God, he fucking hated him. Ryan started down the hall, not caring if he missed his history class and failed his calculus exam. He needed to get the fuck out before he did something stupid and potentially dangerous. He should have listened to his brother. Should have never tried to fight his wolf nature and just hid away in the woods until the heat left him. Fuck, he could still smell the annoying fucker!

Ryan whirled, Shane right behind him, the blond’s expression twisted in a wicked smirk suggesting he was about to make another rude, smart-ass remark. “Get the fuck away from me, Cooper.”

“Like fuck, you faggot freak. I think you sprained my wrist. I’m totally going to sue your pansy ass for assault.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryan tried to take a steadying breath. It might have worked on a normal day but today his vision was full of a throbbing red that had never been there before, his blood pounding loud in his ears, muscles tense with restrained force. Every inhale only surrounded him with more of the strange, enticing scent of the blond before him, and it was everything he could do to keep his hands at his sides.

“I’m going to take you for everything you own, Moss. All twenty-five dollars and seventeen cents.”

Asshole. The motherfucking asshole. He went to turn away, growling when he felt Shane move, the blond rushing forward to shove him. Snapping around, he grabbed Shane by the collar, slamming him hard against the wall of lockers no one ever used but the college insisted on having.

“Shit,” Shane hissed, grabbing uselessly at the large hand effortlessly holding him in place. He stilled when Ryan pulled his sunglasses free, nearly white, inhuman eyes staring back at him. “What the fuck?”

“You really don’t want to mess with me right now,” Ryan said, his voice a low, husky growl, strange pale eyes burning into Shane’s. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, inhaling deeply of the blond’s scent and listening to Shane’s breath hitch in surprise. Sexy. So fucking angry and sexy. The things he would do to this kid. Nasty, degrading things and it would be so easy.

“Be good for me, Cooper,” Ryan murmured, letting his lips press to the boy’s jaw for a fleeting second, his dick throbbing from the light contact. “Be good and shut that sexy mouth of yours for one damn minute so I can get the fuck out of here.” He let the blond go abruptly, immediately regretting it as he took a step away, his piercing gaze pinning Shane in place. Fuck, it would be so easy. Shane was weak and he was strong. His wolf knew what that meant. The creature understood all too well what happened to weak things that crossed their path. They were used. Broken. Devoured in all the many ways one could devour a hot, tasty morsel like Shane Cooper.

Daring him on, he flashed the blond a condescending smile, Shane’s eyes widening when he caught sight of Ryan’s elongated fangs. He watched uncertainty flicker on the blond’s face, quickly replaced by hot embarrassment and anger as Shane pushed himself off the wall of lockers and took a stalking step towards him. It felt like slow motion to Ryan’s enhanced wolf senses when the blond pulled his arm back, winding up to punch him like the hotheaded, tasty bitch he was.

Grinning fiercely, Ryan grabbed the boy by the bicep, spun him with a rough wrench, and slammed him chest first against the lockers, pinning him with his chest and hips. Before he could fully understand what he was doing, Ryan’s fangs slid deep into the juncture where Shane’s neck met his shoulder, hot, tangy blood flowing onto his tongue in a gush. Fuck, yeah.

Shane gave a pained howl, his face going pale, body tensing then going limp from the sudden, overwhelming pain. Ryan barely noticed, his senses filled with the scent of the boy’s flesh and sweat, the taste of his perfect blood and feel of his hard body against his. Groaning lowly, he rocked his hips forward, rubbing his aching erection against the strong globes of the blond’s ass, humping him in rough, erratic thrusts while gripping Shane’s hip painfully tight. He came with a grunt, his fangs slicing deeper and flooding more blood, a growl ripping through him as he slammed the boy’s limp body forward and ground his orgasm against Shane’s tight cheeks.

His. Fuck, Shane Cooper was his.

He’s ours…

Sitting in the large, sun-soaked cafeteria with the voices of excited students all around him, Daniel could not look away from Mason Blackthorne. It was a problem, and not a new one. He’d had a thing for the blond for years now, but lately things were getting worse. Dangerous. Something was different about Mason and it was driving him crazy.

Oh, he still looked the same. Mason Blackthorne was one of the hottest sorcerers Daniel had ever met, and that was saying something. With enough magic everyone looked damn sexy. It was just something innate about using the power, like the magic sank into the cells and transformed the wielder with each spell. Daniel was used to being surrounded by beautiful people, was used to being one himself with his dark hair and strange, gold eyes, yet Mason managed to stand out like a glowing flame to his senses.

To call Mason pale would be an understatement. The boy’s skin was pure cream, his hair platinum white. Average height but lithe and toned, Mason was a glint of moonlight most of the time, the only color he revealed being his red lips and maddening cerulean eyes that glowed in certain light. Mason was stunning and Daniel wished that was the reason he couldn’t stop staring at him.

He tried valiantly to focus on what his best friends William and Tiana were saying across from him at the table. The couple was getting an apartment together, both of them having already applied and been accepted as magical regulators in training. He didn’t want to think about the fact that it was his last day at the Academy of Magical Arts and Sorcery. Daniel was giving up magic and hadn’t told anyone yet. It was for the best. It was time to finally let magic and Mason Blackthorne go for good.

It was the only answer. Surely anything else would lead to him destroying the beautiful boy and himself in the process.

Daniel didn’t want to live in a world of magic. After four years of advanced sorcerer training, he no longer had any doubts. It didn’t matter that he had raw talent and even greater power. He had been named an Elite, a title bestowed on only the most illustrious of sorcery students, Daniel being the only one during the last five years to receive the honor. Since the title, he had been interview repeatedly in three different newspapers, offered two internships, one of them into the Council of Esteemed, and had received two dozen offers from Masters around the world hoping he would choose them for formal apprenticeship. Daniel had the magical world in the palm of his hand and he was determined to leave it all behind.

Unfortunately there was a loud, roaring, bloodthirsty beast inside of him that wanted to stay.

Ours… We must make him ours…

It had been a difficult year. Two months ago Daniel had lost his chronically ill grandmother, his only guardian since he was a small child. It had almost been a relief when Sofia Warweaver finally passed away. Even though he was away at what would be considered the equivalent of college in an academic setting, the majority of his attention had been spent dealing with the doctors and nurses keeping the sorceress alive. Her mind had failed in the end, the women a shadow of her former powerful glory as the curse that had been cast on her before Daniel was born took its slow, torturous course of eating her away.

It had been a reminder to him of just what magic did, even to the most powerful. And his Grandmum had been one of the greats. Older than what she claimed, certainly, although she managed to look under forty when Daniel last saw her, she had lost both her son and daughter to terrible warlocks over twenty years ago, that daughter being Daniel’s mother. For all her power, she had not been able to save either of her children and it had broken her more than the curse that struck her down.

Take him… Claim him…

Daniel, eyes having managed to find their way to his breakfast of scrambled eggs and ham, slowly looked back up to where Mason was chatting obliviously with his friends.

You can smell him… He wants us… He’s aching for us…

“Shut the fuck up,” Daniel muttered under his breath. His beast did not, growling lowly in his ear, commenting on all the ways Mason chose to not look in his direction, the boy blatantly ignoring them like the little flirt he was.

Over the table… He won’t fight us… He’s begging for us… Just cross the room, push him down to the table, and take him… He’ll give in… He wants to give in to us…

Daniel was not a crazy person, even if he did have a dark voice rumbling in his ear to fuck Mason Blackthorne senseless. He was a shifter, one of the rare mythical shifters at that. The beast inside of him had never walked the earth in any other form, waking up in the oldest, strongest family bloodlines to experience life with a human host. It was supposed to be a great honor to hold a beast within. Daniel had found out very quickly that it was not, the blood lion within him an absolute menace. The moment it had woken up he had caged the beast to keep it from taking over his body and transforming him into a wild animal. No, Daniel wasn’t a crazy person, but if he had to deal with the beast roaring over Mason Blackthorne for another month, he was going to go out of his fucking mind.

He looks good today…

Mason did, in fact, look fucking hot as hell, the boy dressed in tailored slacks and a collared short-sleeved shirt like the privileged preppy brat he was. His biceps, tight and toned, were looking particularly interesting as the blond leaned his elbows on the table to talk to his neighbor, cerulean eyes lighting ever so subtly on Daniel’s intense stare before looking away with a small grin.

He wants us… We should take him… Have him… Keep him…

“Shut up, you stupid furball,” Daniel muttered, wishing Mason would stop grinning every time he looked his way.

He’ll be tight… Loud… His cries for us will echo off the walls…

Daniel really needed to get the fuck out of there. It was the last day of class. Tomorrow he’d be officially graduated and no longer required to share a cafeteria, hallway, or classroom with Mason. Just one more day to endure, and he’d be free from this insanity.

“Seeing as you’re talking to yourself, I’m going to assume you haven’t been listening?” William broke in, only looking slightly annoyed when Daniel glanced at him blankly. William, tall with light brown hair and dark eyes, had been attempting to draw Daniel into conversation for the last ten minutes. His failure was only mildly disheartening, having grown used to his friend’s strange behavior. “Blackthorne?” He asked when Daniel’s golden gaze began slipping away again. “Has he hexed you again?”

Grunting noncommittally, Daniel forced his attention to William and Tiana’s expectant faces. He hadn’t felt it necessary to reveal to his friends of four years that lately whenever he was fighting with Mason he was also trying to hold back the beast from tearing the boy’s clothes off. The two knew about the Blood King inside him and had accepted a lot of weird behavior from him as the consequence. Still, some things were just a bit too much to share.

“We were asking if you’d like to join us on our vacation, Daniel,” Tiana spoke up. “I hate to think of you all alone in that big house now that your grandmother has passed away.”

Daniel winced, picking up his fork so he could pretend to eat. “I’m going to be really busy this summer. The Estate needs to be settled, things boxed up—That sort of thing.” He didn’t meet Tiana’s eye. Daniel was actually homeless. With the death of his Grandmum, the large Warweaver Estate had been spelled shut to everyone. He couldn’t even get to his own things until the reading of the will, something that wouldn’t occur for another month. “Besides, you two haven’t had a chance to be alone since you started dating. I’d hate to be a third wheel.”

William shot Daniel a grateful look. Tiana worried too much and William was a bit oblivious, but Daniel loved them both and didn’t want to burden them with his own shit.

He had met his Aunt April for the first time at Sophia’s funeral. He knew the woman existed but she had never contacted him after his father’s death. He hadn’t given much thought to why until face to face with his aunt. She was terrified of magic, and more so, the people that wielded it. Her brother and his family had been obliterated in the blink of an eye and she had not been able to take in the nephew that had survived. Until now, when she had demanded Daniel live with her family that summer until the will was settled. Daniel, with no place left to turn, had hesitantly agreed.

April’s only stipulation was that he didn’t perform magic while at the house. And well, that had been more than fine with him. It would be a summer without magic while finally getting to know the only family he had left in the world. And maybe, if things went well, it would be a lot longer than a summer.

“Oh, the Trinity’s here.” Tiana jumped up, her silky red hair flipping over her shoulders as she scraped her chair back to get a copy of the sorcery rag before they were all snatched up. There were a few different newspapers dedicated just to the magical going ons in the world, even though the main papers still had a section for magic users. Daniel had stopped reading them once he started finding his own face staring out at him since named the newest Elite. It was just bizarre.

He’s calling us… Can’t you feel his power? The dragon is calling us to claim him…

Daniel groaned inwardly, hunching into his seat as he tried to pull his beast from its focus on Mason.

He wants us… If we reveal ourselves he will bend to us… Cry for us…

Daniel wasn’t certain that the King was wrong. Something had changed about Mason. About three months ago when he’d been watching the last of his grandmother’s life slip away, Mason Blackthorne had woken up different and his beast had not shut up since about it.

Mason and Daniel didn’t have a traditional relationship to begin with—Well, unless you counted on the playground. Mason loved to annoy the shit out him every chance he got, from casting little hexes on him, to challenging him in class, to outright sabotaging his homework. The blond just couldn’t leave him alone and Daniel had been more than okay with it.

He enjoyed their strange game, forever transfixed on the vicious expression Mason made right before he struck. They had a bizarre interaction, extremely intense and one that Mason seemed quite happy to pretend was nothing more than childish rivalry even as he fueled Daniel’s attraction into a burning flame. And if he’d been fully human, maybe that would have been easy enough to resist. But the beast inside him full of power and terrible, malevolent instincts had different plans for Mason.

The Blood King found the taunting game fascinating. A lion toying with a soft, fragile mouse, his beast had flexed claws while Mason nibbled, twittered, and fluffed his whiskers whenever Daniel walked into the room. And in response to Daniel’s attention, Mason had become outright teasing, his otherworldly eyes flashing in laughter as he stared too long, hands brushing over him in electric moments as they passed too close. Even lips against his ear once, Mason leaning in to whisper something lewd and asinine while he’d been reading. It had become a very riveting game.

Take him now… He’s calling us, wants us… We must have him…

Then it had all gone to shit.

Mason was no longer a mouse. Months ago something had changed in the boy that made the King stare intrigued and possessive. Snapping, caustic energy, luminous and unrestrained had begun to crackle just beneath the blond’s surface. It was deadly, powerful, and awesomely alluring. To the point that Daniel’s beast could no longer concentrate on anything but said power whenever Mason was near. He’d been forced to push back to keep the blond at arm’s length and safe from his beast. He had enough control over himself, his beast still only a caged animal roaring inside him. But sometimes when Mason came too close, snapped his power too loud with clamping jaws and slashing talons, Daniel lost himself, the beast rearing up to… Well.

Screwing Mason Blackthorne into a wall was not an activity Daniel felt healthy, for himself or the obnoxious, rich brat.

It was an extremely complicated issue, seeing as Mason was fucking gorgeous, adorably snarky, and usually fun to be around when not hexing him. Fine, even when hexing. It didn’t really matter. It was a lost cause, one Daniel should never have indulged in. No matter that Mason flirted with him every chance he got, in cruel, cutting ways to shock him. No matter that his beast roared loud and demanding whenever the boy was near, snapping and rattling its cage until Daniel was brooding and ready to break something for want of the blond. They could never be together.

Even if Mason Blackthorne came to him on hands and knees and begged, Daniel would never, ever, touch the boy, no matter how much he wanted to.

Tiana gave a huff when William began to prod her, finally handing the newspaper over to her boyfriend, who always demanded the sports section before she became ensnared in the pages. Daniel’s eyes were across the room again, watching Mason bow his head as he read his own paper. For the life of him, he just couldn’t keep his eyes off the boy.

Mason was biting his lip, thoughtlessly gnawing on the flushed flesh as he flipped through the oversized pages. His hair, shining blond and silvery, was hanging down loose, soft around his shoulders. Slowly a tint of pink began to reach the perfect, creamy skin of his cheeks as he stopped and started reading intently.

The terrible things he would do with Mason Blackthorne’s lips. The things he would make him say, beg… He could make Mason beg. Beg for more, for harder, and faster, and every drop of seed he had to give him…

“Son of a—Phsssh!” William spluttered, spraying orange juice all over the table and the paper he was reading. “Holy hell,” he uttered between coughs. “The fucking… ass… is getting bonded.”

Daniel wasn’t sure who or what he was referring to, but he was grateful for the distraction. It had been enough to draw his attention from Mason and the heated thoughts swirling in his mind once again. God, he really needed to get the fuck out of there.

“What?” Tiana asked, snatching the paper from William when her boyfriend showed more interest in choking on his drink than finishing his thought. “Oh. My. God.” She gaped, jaw falling open and staying open.

Narrowing his eyes at his friends’ display, Daniel grabbed the damp paper from Tiana’s slack grasp. On the third page a large black and white image of Mason stared back at him, looking restrained and cool with mild hints of nervousness around his mouth. There was no fucking escape from the brat. Daniel resisted the urge to crumple the paper up, instead folding the page so he would not have to stare at Mason Blackthorne’s face as he read the article beneath.

Unreal. Fucking bizarre.

“It’s a joke, right?” Tiana asked. “A dragon? He’s looking for suitors because he’s part dragon? I never saw him as having a beast.”

Daniel shrugged distractedly as he read, realizing he had never mentioned it to his friends. He really didn’t need them to know just how crazy he was about the kid. His eyes followed down to where Selina, Mason’s mother, was said to have passed down strong dragon ancestry to her son when conceived. Dragon genes were prominent in the Rowe family bloodline and woke up during the early twenties.

William shook his head, finally able to get his coughing under control. “Being part dragon isn’t the issue. He’s a conduit. Anyone looking for a hit of power will be running him down to force a bond.”

Daniel then got to that part; the very special ability Mason had locked inside him. Unimaginable power that the boy couldn’t access alone but his bondmate could, the sorcerer of choice capable of wielding it however he so desired.

Daniel paused, taking a slow breath as his blood lion gave a rattle to its cage. That would be the wild power that had been driving his beast insane lately. It wasn’t unique… it wasn’t just him. Every beast that got a look at Mason would sense it too. They would all want him.

He is ours…

Daniel ignored the creature and turned back to the paper. Mason needed a bondmate, soon, before some power hungry jackass decided that they’d have that power no matter how the boy felt about it. And the mate had to be powerful and fierce because those power hungry madmen would have no issue in killing Mason’s chosen just to chain the dragon and have it at beck and call exclusively.

It was a chilling situation, Daniel’s mind wandering to his dead parents and sister, their lives cut down because of insane men that had wanted power so much they had drained it from the living. It was the seedy dark side to sorcery no one talked about; insatiable greed in the hands of powerful men. Mason wouldn’t be killed, but he would be enslaved for the rest of his life, some monster draining him dry whenever he wished if the boy were captured.

Mason would be seeing suitors that summer, going through a selection process to find an acceptable bondmate. Until then, the boy would be locked in his house, protected from any maniac that would try to kidnap and force a bond on him.

Daniel threw the paper into Tiana’s waiting hands, scowling darkly at the table top. Suitors. How many fucking sorcerers wanted into Mason’s pants? Probably a shit ton if they only had a look at the gorgeous boy. Fucking absurd. With furious restraint, Daniel raised his eyes and sought out Mason’s face across the room.

The blond was in full out angry blush, pink having turned to red as he ripped his paper in half right down the middle of his photo. His parents must have had the article published in the hopes of attracting eligible suitors. Mason’s handsomeness, wealth, and many talents had been listed at the end, most with glaring tones of innuendo.

“I don’t understand,” Tiana mused aloud, reading through the article again. “Why are they calling for powerful sorcerers? Wouldn’t Blackthorne want to be bonded to a sorceress? I mean, bonding is like some antiquated form of marriage, but with magic.”

“He’s gay,” Daniel said darkly, eyes fixed on Mason, who was taking the torn pieces and ripping them again, slowly turning the paper into a mess of long strips. Gay, containing a dragon, and apparently a conduit. How many fucking sorcerers would be chasing after the boy now?

“Oh… Ohhh.” Tiana blinked up, looking at Daniel. “Is that something… Like, you can tell your own kind?”

He glanced her way, the corners of his mouth curling in a grim smirk. “As in beast, or as in fag? Both seem to apply.”

Tiana nodded mutely, then turned back to the article. Only to look up again, eyebrows raised inquiringly. “So are you going to…?”

Slowly and deliberately, Daniel turned his full attention to Tiana while William spluttered again on his juice beside her. “Tia, I want you to finish that sentence. And then I want you to stop and realize just how fucking halfwitted you are.”

Tiana glared, staring Daniel down as her ill-tempered friend tried to intimidate her. She had grown used to his foul moods and dark power years ago and never allowed it to get the best of her. “You are both gay. You both apparently have powerful beasts. And you are both absolutely and madly obsessed with each other,” she hissed lowly. “It is not an unreasonable thought that you might want to date him.”

“You are out of your goddamn mind,” Daniel growled, hands biting into the wood of the table as he gripped hard. It didn’t matter that his beast was agreeing with the girl, very much wanting to claim Mason, and preferably before any competition showed up.

“Yeah? Then why are you so angry?” Tiana shot back, picking up the paper and unfurling so he was forced to stare at Mason’s obnoxiously attractive face. She knew Daniel wanted Blackthorne, for years now. She just couldn’t figure out why he refused to admit it, especially since he’d apparently known the kid was gay the whole time.

William, once again gaining control of his coughing, crushed the paper down, grabbed Tiana around the waist, and pulled her against his tall form so that she fell away from Daniel’s menacing glare. “Tia, you’re sticking your nose in it.”

“He called me a halfwit!” She muttered with a petulant huff.

“He’s going to do a hell of a lot worse if you don’t stop pissing him off about the pain in the ass. Daniel, calm down!” William ordered, slamming his fist loudly on the table to break Daniel from his angry, low growl.

Daniel blinked out of his glower, looking up and around while the other students sitting at the table gave him wary glares. He had become rather dangerous lately, prone to moods and violent outbursts at the slightest of provocation since Mason’s energy had started sparking. He hadn’t hurt anyone yet, that they knew of, but it seemed to be only a matter of time.

Scowling darkly, Daniel’s gaze once again trailed over to where Mason was sitting, only to meet an answering blue glare. Fucking Blackthorne.

He flipped the blond off, rewarded with a vicious snarl and a returning rude hand gesture. Then the fucker blew him a kiss, his beast practically salivating at the sight, and Daniel got up and stormed out of the cafeteria.

***

Glare following as Daniel left, Mason turned to Jackson. “Fucking Cross.”

Jackson Falkner just rolled his ice-blue eyes, ducking beneath long black hair and reading the paper he had refused to let Mason tear up. His friend had issues with Daniel Cross, usually resulting in endless, drawn out monologues filled with more obscenities than usable words. Not commenting was the only way to keep from encouraging Mason into said rants.

Unfortunately, Mason rarely needed the encouragement, and this was one of those times.

“Fucking headcase, probably making fun of me with his fucktard friends. Like I wanted my fucking life put in the damn paper like a damn fucking fool. Now the whole fucking school knows I’m not only a fucking conduit beast, but that I also like cock. Fucking shithead, crazy ass, Cross.”

Jackson didn’t bother pointing out that Cross had actually no fault in Mason’s life being dragged out in the paper. It was exclusively his friend’s terrible, manipulative parents. Mason’s parents were always doing things to embarrass the boy, to the point that Jackson wondered if it wasn’t intentional. Really, a call for a bondmate didn’t need such details. Those were normally given later in privacy once an interested suitor had approached.

“What exactly makes your parents think you can blow as good as you get?” Suzy drawled, her long blond hair sparkling in the light, brown eyes flashing teasingly as Mason turned his glare to her. “Is this something they’ve seen first hand? Or do you just share far too much information?”

“Fuck off,” Mason grumbled, trying to grab her paper so he could destroy it, only to have her hold it out of reach.

“Oh no, I’m framing this. And did you see Cross? He was pissed. Must be jealous he has competition for your special, freakish affection.”

Mason rolled his eyes, stabbing his fork into the table until it stood vertically into the wood. Suzy had a theory, the miserable bitch, and insisted on trotting it out every time Cross showed any emotion towards him. Of course, most Cross ever showed towards him was anger, even more explosive recently than before. Mason didn’t know what the asshole’s problem was and he didn’t fucking care. It just made things more fun when he sabotaged his spellwork.

“They’ve gone too far,” Jackson interjected before Suzy could once again run down her many reasons she was certain Cross was gagging for Mason’s dick. “Mentioning you were a conduit before you’re bonded—They’ve put you in serious danger. You’re not even safely hidden within your ancestry walls yet.”

Mason bit his lip, well aware. His parents meant well, in their overbearing arrogant need to show him off, and themselves as a result. But letting the whole fucking world know that he was a conduit was asking for every crazy warlock in the vicinity to come knocking on the Academy’s front door to kidnap and rape him. It was concerning, to say the least.

“Stupid fucking Cross and his fucking show off Elite power. Couldn’t get a goddamn article on that championship duel he won to bump this fucking disaster my fucking parents put out. Fuck, fuck, fuck… fuck… fuck…” Mason started dropping his head on the table, clunking repeatedly to every muttered curse. It helped a little.

Jackson reached over and placed his dark hand beneath his friend’s forehead before he could smash his brains out. “This needs a strategy. What the fuck are you going to do? You’re putting everyone at risk as long as you’re here.”

Mason glared, resting his face in Jackson’s palm. “I suppose I’ll find the biggest, baddest motherfucker in the school and have him make me his bitch.”

Jackson raised a brow while Suzy cackled happily and clapped. It was difficult to argue with the girl when Mason kept saying things that clearly showed an interest in the Elite sorcerer. He might not have been particularly tall or muscular, but Cross was the most powerful sorcerer to come out of the Academy in years. The kid had become damn near beastly in attitude, and no one could match him in fighting or much anything else for that matter. “Or instead of letting Cross fuck you, you could, you know, take a portal home.”

“Whatever,” Mason muttered, shutting his eyes.

It was bad enough he had to go through finding a suitable bondmate while so young and for such dire reasons. But now he had to do it while all his fucking classmates knew. He’d been able to get away with the other aspects that had arisen when his beast had woken up and started prowling. This was apparently the end of that.

No one had seen his physical changes associated with it, at least, not the weird ones. He had grown, his already toned body lengthening and strengthening to manifest the dragon now curled within him. But no one had seen the horns, or the scales, or even the claws, fangs, and wings. Even though power buzzed inside him, no one had noticed his spells becoming more powerful and explosive.

If he craved raw red meat once in a while, no one called him on it. Nor when he started sniffing people as they passed, seeking out information and potential suitors. So he was a little more surly, a little more cutting and vicious; not really anything to write home about. Mason had never actually been nice before.

But this. This fucking article business. This was nearly everything laid out in black and white. This was mortifying, not to mention dangerous. As strong as he had become when his beast awoke, he was not invincible. Part of his existence was to empower another, not wield such power himself. His dragon craved desperately for a companion to help ensure his survival. A protector. A lover.

Very much the last one.

The beast was preposterously horny. Like, fucking on your knees, begging for dick, horny. It was embarrassing. He had a permanent spell on all his underwear just to keep from looking like a degenerate around the academy. Thankfully no one noticed his constant tang of sex scent, no other beasts in the school to respond.

Well, except for fucking Cross. Daniel had never said a word to anyone, had never even suggested that he was more than human, but the day Mason’s dragon had woken, every telltale sign of the beast was suddenly blaring loud to his senses and impossible to ignore. Daniel was something, something powerful, and he wouldn’t let it out. Which was just like stupid, noble Cross. The kid had a stick up his ass that had only lodged in deeper since he’d been named an Elite. Always going on about not abusing magic, that the dark arts were the killer of the soul, blah, fucking blah. Daniel was a moralistic bore that wouldn’t cast a dark spell to save his own fucking life.

The jackass had also outright ignored everything Mason had thrown at him. Even when he’d managed to look like he’d accidentally fallen right into the Elite’s lap yesterday. The fucker had lifted him up like he weighed nothing at all, placed him on his feet, and left the class they were sharing even though there had been a half hour left. Daniel had started ignoring him, not responding to his pranks or taunts like he used to, and it was getting really fucking annoying.

Not that he wanted Cross, with his brooding moods, and fucking wild gold eyes, and sexy mouth… His inky black hair always mussed up in a stylish, freshly fucked look, his skin a warm, golden tan with that fit, toned body that just begged to be touched and kissed and licked… Damn it.

Fuck Cross, the fucking asshole. Fuck him hard, and deep, and on his fucking knees like the fucking slut he was.

“Mason, stop drooling on my hand,” Jackson complained, wrenching his hand out from beneath his head to let the blond clunk on the table.

Mason blinked up, not certain when his thoughts had once again strayed. The fucking dragon was misery; horny, powerful, and a glowing damn target for every eligible psycho in the area. It had also fixated on Cross like the boy was catnip, trying to get Mason to do things—Really messed up things that involved stripping naked and crawling on his knees, even in rooms as busy and full as the cafeteria. Seeing as he was only just starting to get to know his dragon, Mason still wasn’t sure if this was because Cross was hiding a beast, or if it was just because it was Cross. Either way, it was too fucking embarrassing for words.

Thank god he was going home in less than a week. He would be safe in the mansion. Safe from asshole students giggling behind their hands about him looking for a bondmate. Safe from rapist, power hungry madmen wanting to force a bond to steal his power. Safe to jerk at the ridiculous level needed to finally find some peace.

He couldn’t wait to go home and never have to see Daniel fucking Cross again.