Bitten - 1
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Bitten - 1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher. Bitten
TOP SHELF
An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers
PO Box 2545
Round Rock, TX 78680
Copyright 2008 © by Sean Michael
Cover illustration by Rose Lenoir
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-60370-512-7, 1-60370-512-0
www.torquerepress.com All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. First Torquere Press Printing: October 2008 Printed in the USA
Bitten - 2
Chapter One
The last place Anton Lupi wanted to be was back on the farm with the werewolf pack. He and his mate Greg were supposed to be home, eating nearly raw steaks and discovering how they fit together now that Greg was a werewolf like him. They'd left the farm less than two hours ago and here they were again, his penthouse home engulfed in flames and his manservant Jackson kidnapped by vile outsiders who refused to challenge him head on, taking on his family instead. They’d already killed three, including Dorso, who they’d thought was the leader. They must have been wrong; no pack would mount such an offensive without an alpha. Much as Anton didn’t want to go back to the farmhouse, there had been nowhere else to go. He wanted to rescue Jackson on his own, but Anton knew that he would need the help of Andrea and the pack. He didn’t even know where to begin to look. He pulled up in front of the farmhouse and cut the engine, hand sliding on Greg's leg. Greg looked more than halfway feral, eyes glowing as he panted. "Where are they? We have to go get Jackson." "We have to plan first." He wasn't going to let anyone get their hands on Greg again, even if it meant locking his mate in the basement of the farmhouse. He would not trade Greg for Jackson. They would have to find another way. Even as the anger and determination coursed through him, Anton responded to the light in Greg's eyes, the wolf so close, his need right there. It was a newly formed bond, Greg a newly formed werewolf. Anton was being pulled in two directions. "Your apartment..." Greg's body rippled, the so-new wolf wanting out, fighting free.
Bitten - 3
"I know." He growled, moving in to kiss Greg, his teeth clacking against his mate's.
It hadn't been simply his apartment, either. Not at all. Greg's kitchen, their home. Their lives.
Greg's snarl answered him, the wolf still new, moving on pure instinct. He growled back, teeth
snapping near Greg's neck. Greg was his mate. His. His instincts, his wolf had never been so near
the surface as it had since Greg had been kidnapped.
The front door banged open, both of them growling at Devon, the little beta male almost
bristling. "Andrea says we have to get you inside, get you protected."
Anton hopped off the bike, still growling, hand curling possessively around Greg's bicep. "Does
she know where they're holding Jackson?"
"I don't know. Come on. I'm sorry about your friend." Devon padded in front of them, a livid
bruise on the back of his neck, the claim obviously meant to be seen.
It raised Anton's hackles, having a claim that wasn’t his own in plain sight, and he dug his fingers harder into Greg's arm, all but dragging his mate along. "Back off." Greg pulled away, muscles rippling. "I can walk."
Growling, he grabbed the collar of Greg's shirt, slamming him up against the wall next to the
door. "You're mine."
Devon tugged his arm. "Get out of the hallway. Daniel's resting."
He snarled at the little beta male, shrugging off Devon's hand. "You don't get to tell me what to
do."
"And if you can't get it under control, Anton, we're not going to get anything accomplished."
Andrea snapped at him, and at Devon, glaring at all three of them.
"Jesus, can't you people be quiet?" A carbon copy -- barring the hair, which was long and shaggy
instead of nearly shaved -- of Devon wandered out, heading for Andrea. "This the new pair?
Cripes, I go out of town for a few days and shit goes to hell."
Andrea cuffed the not-Devon boy playfully and Devon groaned. "Would you all shut UP! For
fuck's sake! Daniel is SLEEPING!"
Greg snorted. "Little shit's shrill, huh?"
"Not to mention I am not new. I was here long before you upstarts showed up. This is my
territory." Anton was pissed off about Jackson; it wouldn’t take much to provoke him today.
"Our territory."
Bitten - 4
Anton turned on Andrea. "Because I allow it. You may be Alpha Bitch, but I am the Alpha here." He had his hand wrapped around Greg's arm again, the wolf inside him screaming to come out. His mate freshly made, one of his family stolen, and all these other wolves in close proximity. It had him riled. "Stop it. Jesus. Where the fuck is Jackson?" Greg sounded furious. "Good question." He added his own growl to Greg's fury. He’d forwarded the message and picture to Andrea. As a cop, she had resources he didn’t. "You all need to calm down because we don't know yet, and until we do, the worst thing you can do is go running off half-cocked." Andrea folded her arms over her chest and glared at all of them as if daring them to challenge her. "He isn't at the farm where you were held, Greg. We have a few other leads and I've got people checking them out." She was a police detective, after all; it made her good at this sort of thing. "I hate that they've got him." Greg groaned, looking a little panicked. "What the fuck is going on here?" "Dorso wanted me dead, out." Anton spat the name. "He obviously wasn’t the alpha, though. His death would have ended this otherwise." Andrea nodded. "Dorso’s alpha knows if he gets rid of Anton he can have the pack, and the territory, for himself." "And you're good with that?" Greg looked at Andrea. "Can't you arrest him or something?" "Good with that? Do I look good with that? And arrest him? Risk exposing us all? Not to mention the little matter of finding him first." She got into Greg's face and Anton growled in the back of his throat in warning, seconds from shifting. "I." Greg barked sharply, teeth snapping the air. Anton gave her a single warning: "Back off." The only reason he hadn't already jumped Andrea was because she wasn't a male. As alpha bitch of the pack, she held a certain position and wasn’t a threat to him the way a male would have been. "Please. Please, guys. We're all on edge." Little Devon stroked his arm, gentling him. "There's a series of rooms made up, down in the basement. No windows. No way in." He nodded and met Greg's eyes. "Let's go. Andrea will tell us the moment there's news and we'll go get him back." He had a hunch that was the only way they were going to get Jackson back. While the message had spoken of a trade, their enemy had to know he wouldn’t give up his mate, and so far there had been no new messages.
Bitten - 5
"But..." Greg groaned, fighting his instincts, the wolf.
Anton growled, leaning into Greg, mouth opening on Greg's neck. "Come with me."
He could feel Greg's heart pounding, heard Devon's soft moan as Greg nodded. "Okay. Okay.
Now is good."
He grabbed Greg's hand, twisting their fingers together and heading for the stairs to the
basement. "Any room?" he asked Devon, intent on getting there.
"It's the one with the open door. There's a bathroom off it. A coffeemaker, a little fridge."
"Steaks?"
The little beta wolf nodded and Anton grinned toothily, moving faster. "Good."
He went down the stairs, pulling Greg along with him.
"I was hoping we were done hiding out here." Greg sighed, following easier once the others were
left upstairs.
"We won't do Jackson any good if we're hurt. And we need somewhere to stay until we find a
new home." Damn it, he'd loved his apartment, his refuge. He’d made himself a civilized home
in the middle of the city, as far away from the pack home base as he could get.
"I'm sorry. Your penthouse."
Anton knew he should say it was the people that mattered, and certainly he was overjoyed that
Greg was safe, that Jackson had not perished in the fire, but it was his home, his territory, damn
it!
The basement was comprised of a corridor with doors leading off from it. They found the
bedroom with the open door at one end, a soft light coming from a little lamp over the bed.
Anton closed the door as soon as they were inside the room, locking it. Then he had Greg in his arms, his mate's back hitting the wall. Some instincts were stronger than others, and this one had been there ever since Greg had walked into his home. This was his number one priority, his focus. Greg snarled, the sound raw and rough and worried. He pressed their lips together, one thigh pushing between Greg's legs. Mate. His. Protect.
He growled happily as Greg spread, hips rocking against him, cock filling. Yes. Yes, Mate. His
tongue tangled with Greg's, the kiss deep and hard, Greg’s goatee rubbing against his skin,
Bitten - 6
almost like fur. Grabbing at Greg's clothes, he just barely managed to keep from ripping them from his mate's body. Greg's fingers grabbed his hair, holding on, little growls and rumbles pushing into his mouth. It was sexy, having a true mate in his arms, someone who was driven as he was to join, to love, to let the animal out. He got Greg's shirt off, fingers pressing into the bare skin, nails dragging. Greg’s sounds got louder, needier, Greg's heart slamming against his chest. Anton tore his mouth from Greg's, finding a nice spot on Greg's neck. Worrying it, he began to pull up a mark as his fingers pinched and pulled at Greg's little nipples. "Fuck me." Greg arched, fingers scraping along his spine. "Fuck me." "Gonna." He would. He wanted to. He had to. Anton growled as his fingers refused to work the button on Greg's jeans, but then it came loose and he yanked down the zipper. The smell of Greg hit him hard, making his knees buckle. He pressed up against Greg, groaning, teeth catching on his mate's skin. That earned him a happy growl, Greg head-butting him, panting. "Don't. Tease." He laughed, nearly howling, and turned Greg to face the wall as he pulled the jeans down. "I won't." Greg helped, stripping out of his shoes, tattoos rippling and shifting as he stretched. Anton tore his own pants open, his prick pushing out eagerly. He touched Greg's hole, groaning as his fingers encountered the soft skin. Dropping to his knees, he spread Greg's cheeks with his hands. Those lean hips pushed into his touch, Greg ready, eager, wanton. The scent here was pure Greg and it made him even harder, his cock aching, dripping with need. He licked at Greg's hole, tongue dragging across the wrinkled skin. "Anton." He heard that low, single word, his name, as that tight hole jerked under his tongue. Growling, he pushed his tongue into Greg's body, feeling it squeeze around him. Greg braced himself, pushed back into Anton's face, movements jerky and needy. He fucked his mate's ass with his tongue, wetting the tight hole, getting it ready for his cock. "Need. Fuck." Greg's claws tore into the wall. "Mine." He rose up, pushing into Greg without fanfare, just slamming into his mate. "Yours." Greg howled, caught between him and the wall, hips jerking spasmodically.
Bitten - 7
He nodded, mouth closing over Greg's shoulder, biting as he took his lover. The muscles around his cock squeezed, rippling and working him. He let go of Greg's shoulder, and bit closer to Greg's neck. "Anton!" Greg pulled away and he bit again, marking, holding tight. His. Hips snapping, he drove the point home. He felt Greg's orgasm, squeezing around him.
"Yes!" Growling softly, he held, waiting for Greg to finish before slamming home again and
again until he came, too.
Greg slumped against the wall, whimpering softly. He leaned against his mate, still buried deep inside Greg's body. Groaning, he licked the sweat from Greg's shoulder, tongue sliding across his marks. "I don't know what to do next, Anton. I'm just a chef."
"You're not just anything. You're my mate." That trumped anything else Greg might be.
"I don't know if that makes me anything more than lucky."
Anton growled lightly, sliding from Greg's body before dragging him back to the bed. It wasn't
big, but it was clean and soft, comfortable, with a nest of covers.
He wrapped himself around Greg. "We'll find Jackson and get him back. And then we'll find a
place to call our own."
"I hate that they've got him."
"Me, too." He growled again, arms tightening around Greg. The human in him hated it, the wolf
even more.
Greg pushed close, panting again, so close to wolf that Anton could smell it. He wished it was
safe to go out. He needed to go running with his mate, to feel the wind in his fur, to smell Greg's musk. They’d only run together once. It was still all so new, and they needed to explore it. Until they could, he would hold tight and dream. *** He ran and ran, crying out again and again, his blood feeling as if it was boiling in his veins. The moon was heavy above him, his paws digging into the dirt, and he was lost. Lost.
Bitten - 8
"Anton!"
Greg ran faster, lungs burning.
Anton's howl called to him, the sound rich and full, sending shivers down his spine.
He shook, looking around, desperate to find his lover.
Another howl sounded, Anton shaking him.
His eyes popped open and he growled, springing up, still caught in his nightmare.
Anton's growl replied to his, hot hands sliding on his skin. "Greg."
"Anton." He turned, grabbing onto his lover. "Anton."
Anton growled, rubbing their cheeks together. "I have you."
"I'd lost you. I'd lost you again." He licked and nibbled, needing to taste, to know Anton was
real.
Anton's lip curled up with a growl. "I'm right here."
"Good." He swatted Anton's ass. "Don't growl at me."
Growling again, Anton swatted him back. "Why not?"
"Because..." Uh. Well, fuck. "Because I said so."
Anton started to chuckle. "Admit it -- you love it."
"I love you." He started to really relax, breathe.
That earned him a low, throaty purr and Anton pushed him back down, moving to lie on top of
him. He stretched, Anton's skin rubbing against his.
"Mmm..." Anton leaned down, sniffing his neck, nose and tongue tickling.
He couldn't decide whether to lift his chin and offer his throat or pull away. He couldn't figure
out why it mattered, either. Anton's lips worried a mark on his shoulder, pressing against it and
making it ache.
"This is hard -- my body is changing." He wasn't used to this, to everything being new, different.
Hell, somehow he'd hoped that when they'd gotten home...
Bitten - 9
"I know. And it wasn't your choice." Anton growled, baring his teeth. "But you have me. You
aren't alone in this."
"Tell me. Tell me again about what's happening. When it happened to you." He had heard the
story, but it made him feel more grounded, like everything wasn't helter-skelter.
"I was cursed at birth, but the change didn’t take me until puberty. I didn't have anyone to help
me through it, but I survived. I learned what it meant. I learned to use it." Anton placed biting
kisses over his shoulders and neck. "You can control it except for when the full moon commands
you, and then the wolf has free rein."
"I want to run with you." He lay beneath Anton and his lover stretched and pressed down into
him. "I want to. I feel like I can't focus."
"We can change now. All you need to do is think about it. Remember last time? You started with
your tail. You change back the same way. Follow my voice." By the time he was done talking,
Anton had changed into the wolf, barking for him.
Think about it. Right. He moaned, reached for Anton, fingers sliding on the soft, heavy fur.
Anton growled softly, the sound happy, and pushed into his touch.
"Beautiful." He wanted to howl with pure pleasure.
Anton barked at him, calling to him.
Greg knelt down, rubbing his face against Anton's ruff. His mate. His mate. His body rippled,
moaned, things inside him stretching. Anton kept barking, the sound urging him to change, to be
the wolf. Help me. He tried to speak the words, but he couldn't, his lips stretching, spreading out.
Anton rubbed against him, mouth opening, holding over his muzzle for a moment. The scent of
his mate flooded him and he rippled, growling deep in his throat.
Barking, Greg leapt from the bed, running around the small room. He sat and shook his head,
then headed for the door.
Out.
Out.
Out.
Anton followed, running to beat him there. The door was closed; they’d locked it early, and now
Anton scratched at it, setting up barking.
He answered, howling, head thrown back.
Bitten - 10
Ooooout!
Anton growled and scratched again at the door, trying to get through it.
A key sounded in the lock and the door was flung open, a man staring down at them. "Will you
two stop it?"
Anton barked come on! and took off around the man's legs.
Greg ran, yipping as hands grabbed his tail and tugged, pulling hairs. He got around, though,
following his mate, his Anton, racing hard up the stairs. Anton headed down the hall toward the
door, going full out.
It closed just as Anton got there, his mate crashing into it hard.
Greg yelped, teeth bared as he tore toward Anton. Mate! Mate! Anton!
Anton went down with a whimper, body seeming to shimmer and then settling into human. Greg
pounced and licked, whining deep in his throat and snapping at anyone who came close.
"Call off your mate, Anton." Andrea's voice snapped and Anton groaned, hands going to his
head.
Greg licked Anton's face. Mate. Mate, love. Please.
One of Anton's hands reached for him, fingers sliding through his ruff. "Greg."
Yes. Mate. He rumbled, protecting his Anton.
"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Andrea grabbed at him, trying to pull him away. "I need to get to him to
make sure he's okay!"
He snapped, then someone grabbed his scruff and tugged him away. "Jesus, Andrea. Do we need
puppies?"
Anton surged up onto his feet, snarling. "Hands off him!"
"No. No, we don't need puppies." Andrea sighed, mouth moving faster as she complained.
Greg moved, licking and nuzzling Anton's crotch.
Anton's hands dropped to his head, petting him. "Come on, Mate. We're going back to our cell."
"It's for your own safety!" Andrea could be strident when she wanted.
Anton smelled so good. So good.
Bitten - 11
Growling, Anton headed down the hall. "With me, Greg." He padded behind, following, fascinated. The others didn't matter: only Anton. He could hear the low growls coming from Anton as he followed the pale, bare ass down the stairs. When Anton reached the bottom, Greg leapt, paws batting at Anton's shoulders playfully. Anton went down and suddenly was the wolf again, twisting and jumping, biting at his muzzle. Oh. Oh, play. The word blasted through him, and he crouched, wagging, ready to pounce. Anton faced him, butt in the air, moving back and forth. Then Anton barked loudly and jumped at him. Their chests slammed together, teeth flashing as they played. Barking, growling, biting, rolling, Anton led him through it all and then into a merry chase along the hall to their room. He leapt on the bed, bouncing, barking happily as he played king of the mountain. Anton chased him, leaping at him and rolling him. Somewhere in the rolling, he lost the wolf, fur becoming skin. Fur rubbed against him for a moment, and then Anton changed as well, mouth finding his in a toothy kiss. "Anton." He groaned, cock hard, aching, needing friction, touch, attention. Anton rolled them, sending them spinning off the bed. It didn't slow Anton down any, though, his lover continuing to kiss him, body rubbing. He bit Anton's shoulder, upper arm. Anton growled and jerked at each bite, hands sliding on his skin. He scooted down, needing the flavors of Anton in his mouth, in his throat, on his tongue. Groaning, Anton pushed toward his mouth, cock bumping against his lips. Yes. Yes, he wanted that. He sucked hard, fingers wrapping around Anton's hips and pulling the man in deep. "Greg!" The sound of his name rang through the room, Anton grabbing at his hair, trying to hold onto the short spikes. Yes, Anton. I'm Greg. He chuckled and pulled hard, swallowing hard, throat working around the tip of Anton's cock. Anton's hips began to snap, driving the thick cock into his throat. He looked up, eyes meeting Anton's dark ones as he pulled. His. Anton's head snapped back and he howled, come pouring down Greg's throat. Greg reached down, fisting his own cock as he drank Anton down, swallowing and groaning. Anton kept thrusting, cock sliding over his tongue. His eyes closed and he kept sucking, kept jacking himself off.
Bitten - 12
"Greg. So good. God." Anton moaned, hands moving over his shoulders.
Yours. Yours, Anton. Please. He didn't have to say the words out loud.
Those hands slid beneath his arms and tugged. "Come here," his lover growled.
"Anton." His lips popped off the heavy cock; his own prick dragged along Anton's thigh.
Anton's tongue pushed into his mouth, one big hand wrapping around his prick. Fuck him. He
went with it, humping and jerking, fucking Anton's hand, eyes rolling furiously. Growling,
Anton nipped at his lips, hard enough that he tasted the coppery tang of blood.
"More. More, God damn it, Anton."
Anton gave him more, hand tightening around his cock, the strokes rough. More kisses mashed
his lips against his teeth, Anton growling low in his throat. He whimpered, caught in the touches,
in Anton's attention.
Anton's other hand found his nipples, fingers pinching and twisting, nothing gentle in the
touches. He nodded, arched, the little nubs sensitive, aching, burning. God, it was good. The
touches became harder, even more aggressive.
"Gonna." He didn't want to, not yet.
"Do it." The growl slid over his skin and settled in his balls.
Heat poured out of his cock, shooting from him, his balls drawn tight.
"Yes. Smell that. Mate." With another growl, Anton raised his hand, licking Greg's come from it.
"Yours." He blinked a little, dazed. "Love you."
"Good. Me, too." Anton's eyes met his, full of love and heat and need, all right there for him.
"What do we do now?"
"I don't know exactly, but I've had enough of waiting around for Andrea's people to figure out
where Dorso’s alpha," Anton spat out the name, "has Jackson, and if they don't have any answers
in the morning, we're going to go looking for him ourselves."
"Okay." He didn't know what he was going to do, how he could help, but he'd try.
"Do you understand changing now, or do you need to practice some more?"
Bitten - 13
"I think I'm getting it. I'm getting better." He'd practiced a little before they'd headed home, but it wasn't natural for him; he still needed Anton’s help, needed Anton to remind him how to think, how to start it. "Given what happened when we shifted earlier, if you're comfortable enough with it, maybe we should avoid practicing inside." Anton rubbed his head where he'd slammed it up against the front door. He kissed the top of Anton's head. "I'm sorry, man."
"You weren't the one who slammed the door closed on me." Anton growled. "I hate being
cooped up in this room. I hate that Dorso’s alpha still has Jackson. I hate that he burned down
my home." Greg could almost see the hair on Anton's body bristling as he spoke.
He let himself pet and stroke, hands sliding over the heavy body. "I know. You should have..."
"I shouldn't have trusted my staff?" Anton grunted. "I hate that it was someone in my own home
who betrayed me."
"No. You should have let them have me. You would have been safe then." Greg wasn't good at being noble and shit, but he could try. Anton growled and grabbed his arms. "I will not give you up, not even if it means I lose everything else."
Well, that was good. "Let's shoot for keeping everything."
Anton nodded. "I can live with that."
"Yeah. Yeah, me, too."
"Let's get some sleep, then. We've got a busy day tomorrow -- the hardest part will be leaving
here. Andrea is not going to be happy about it."
"Okay. Okay, man. I'm with you." He wasn't ever going to be able to sleep.
Ever.
Anton tugged him in close, curled around him, arms tight. He could almost hear the word 'mine'
in the soft growls.
He held on, listened to Anton breathe, and waited for tomorrow.
Bitten - 14
Chapter Two
Jackson was alone. For now. He was tied to a chair, more than a little battered and bruised. His head hurt, but more than that, he was thirsty and he was tired, bone deep. They hadn't let him sleep, and he wasn't exactly sure how many days it had been since they'd taken him. It might have been only twenty-four hours, but maybe it had been three or four days. He thought the answer was somewhere in the middle, but he didn’t know. His faith in Anton coming to rescue him had not diminished, but the niggling worry that something had happened and Anton couldn't rescue him was growing stronger. There was a sound at the door and, much as he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of any reaction, he tensed. "What do you want?" That growl was low, familiar, unpleasant. His guard and sometimes tormentor. "I lost the bet. Bringing food for the prey." He didn't recognize that voice. Food. This could be good. It could also be bad. The leader, the one they called Lars, had given him ‘food’ already: raw, bloody, with the fur still on it. Jackson was pretty sure it had once been a squirrel. "I'm not sure we're feeding him." There was a brief growl, a scuffle, then a sharp yelp. Wonderful. Now they were fighting over who got to torture him next.
Bitten - 15
Taking a deep breath, he began to run through the steps involved in setting up a sit-down dinner party for Anton, picturing the table in his mind as it was set. The exercise calmed him, let him focus on something else. The door opened, a short, stocky redhead padding in, green eyes bright, a set of scratches on his face. "Food."
A tray was put in front of him, and a wickedly sharp knife appeared. "One hand free. I'll watch
you eat."
He let one of his eyebrows go up. So far, his calm demeanor seemed to annoy his captors, and
Jackson figured that was the least he could do.
In reality, he was not in the least calm. And right now his stomach was trying to claw its way up
his throat to get to the food. One of his hands was freed, the toast and egg and bacon smelling of
heaven. They had even allotted him a plastic fork and a serviette...
There were words on the bit of cloth.
I AM A FRIEND. THEY ARE LISTENING.
Jackson's eyes flew to green ones, looking for confirmation there.
He got a single, short nod. "Eat."
He meant to grab the fork and eat in a dignified manner, but once he had the plastic in his hand,
he couldn’t help but fall on the food, shoveling it in like a starving man. Which he was.
The food wasn't hot, but it filled his stomach. The man stared at him as he ate, silent, solid.
"Water?" he asked once he’d finished eating.
"There's a bottle." He moved the plate, showing Jackson the little bottle with the sports top.
He grabbed it up, drinking greedily, nearly moaning as the liquid hit his tongue, his throat, and
finally his belly. "Thank you."
"You sit tight and there'll be more." Those eyes were on the napkin.
He nodded, taking the napkin and wiping his mouth with it, wetting the words with his tongue so
they blurred.
"Okay. Give me your hand." The man walked behind him, binding his hands back together, very
loosely. "I'll be back."
The words were barely whispered as a knife was pressed into his hand. "Be ready."
Bitten - 16
He let his head drop forward in acknowledgment, his fingers wrapping tightly around the handle
of the knife.
Oh, thank God.
The man took the tray, padding away, snarling a little at the guard outside the door.
As soon as the door closed, he began to work through the ropes around his wrists.
He would be ready.
Bitten - 17
Chapter Three
Anton paced outside of Andrea’s study, pissed off at being made to wait to see her. He was ready to go and find Jackson right now, and the delay annoyed him. He’d given the pack more than enough time to come up with something on Jackson. Anything. It was his and Greg’s turn now. After all, Jackson was their family. The pack wasn’t invested in Jackson like he and Greg were. "You know, if you'd just play the game and live with the pack, you wouldn't have these issues." Van, Devon's twin and Andrea's playtoy, lounged against the doorframe, eyes twinkling. He bared his teeth, growling at the beta male. "Am I supposed to be scared of you?" "No, Van, but you are supposed to be polite to my guests. And show your alpha some respect." Andrea's voice snapped out, the alpha bitch baring her teeth. "I can fight my own battles, Andrea," Anton reminded her. It was, after all, why he was here; he needed to find Jackson and put his family back together again. "Yes, and I can discipline my mate without your intervention." He bared his teeth at her. "And can you find Jackson without my intervention, or do Greg and I need to go do that ourselves?" "Dorso was working for a wolf named Lars. We were right; it wasn’t just the three of them. Lars has a whole pack here. They've got Jackson in a stronghold. I can't get to him, but I have a friend who’s infiltrated the pack. He'll get Jackson out."
Bitten - 18
"And in the meantime I'm supposed to do what? Just sit here?" His enemy had a name now. Lars.
Anton growled.
"Yes. Go get your puppy used to his body before the moon changes. Look for a new place. Deal
with your insurance company. Just stay out of sight. They’ve got people looking for you and
Greg. Lars wants you alive, but he’ll take you dead."
"I need to do something about Jackson. He's my family, Andrea." How was he supposed to
concentrate on anything else while this Lars had his family?
"I swear to you, I swear. Nathan will get him out. If anyone can, Nathan will. You can't go there,
Anton, you'll start a war."
"And that's what Lars wants." He was tempted to give the asshole just what he wanted, too. It
was a new sensation for him; he’d been more than happy to leave pack politics to Andrea and
live his own, civilized life. Things were changing.
One of Andrea's eyebrows went up, her lips twisting.
"I'll be good," he growled. "But I don't like it." He didn't like it at all.
"Trust me. I know Nathan. He'll get Jackson out in one piece."
"You understand why it is hard for me to just sit and wait, though."
"You think I don't want to go in and tear his throat out?" No. No, he knew better. Somewhere, in
the back of his mind he wondered if maybe Dorso and his two boys hadn't hurt Van and Devon.
"Promise me you'll let me know if anything goes wrong, Andrea. I don't want to leave him there
a moment longer than necessary. Jackson isn't one of us -- he can't take what they're dishing out
for long."
"If anything goes wrong, we'll go in together. I swear."
He looked her in the eye, seeing the truth there -- she was his pack, after all, even if that was
more in name than practice -- and he grunted, nodded. "Fine. Now about this not being allowed
outside business..."
She looked at him. "You're a danger to yourself and us with that pup."
He growled at her. "He needs to get out and run --- feel the ground beneath his paws."
"I know, but he has no control."
"And he'll never learn it cooped up in here." He growled at her one last time, for good measure,
and stalked back down to the room he shared with his mate.
Bitten - 19
He could hear Greg pacing.
Pushing open the door, he immediately sought out his mate. "They say they have someone on the
inside who's going to get him out."
"Bullshit." Greg shook his head. "We don't know these people."
"Andrea has been a friend for a long time, Greg. The pack here is mine, in name at least. She
helped me save you. And I don't think you're ready for the kind of war we'll be facing if we take
on Lars ourselves."
"Lars? War? War? What the fuck is all this?"
"This is werewolves fighting for territory." Anton began to pace himself, hating the tight quarters
they were confined to. "Wolves like Lars don't care if we're exposed to the world or not, they just
want power and territory. He's trying to bring us to him, to make us fight on his terms, his turf."
"So, let's move." It was said like it was the simplest answer on earth.
"What?"
"If he wants the territory, he can have it. Who cares?"
"But... but this is where I live. I've been here for a long time. My apartment..." Was gone. Still, it
was his territory, the pack was his to lead, to protect.
"Well, then. If you care, let's go beat the shit out of him and take your part of town back. This is
stupid. Werewolf fucking gang wars. Idiots."
He growled at Greg, teeth snapping. "I am not an idiot. This is my territory, my home. I'm alpha.
I may not be proud of the uncivilized parts of my life, but they are what they are!"
"Don't snap at me!" Greg growled back, baring his teeth, challenging him.
"Then don't call me an idiot!" He pushed Greg back toward the bed, intent on asserting his
dominance.
Greg's hands landed on his shoulders with a slap, his lover's nostrils flaring. "I'll call you what I want to." Anton pushed again, following Greg down onto the bed. They landed hard, bodies slamming together. Greg's teeth sank into his shoulder, the anger between them turning to heat, to raw passion. He howled before returning the bite, leaving a lurid mark. He was so hard he ached, the need so strong between them.
Bitten - 20
He searched for Greg's throat, the soft belly, needing to remind his lover that he was the alpha. Him. His mouth closed over the big vein in Greg's neck, teeth threatening the skin as his fingers raked across Greg’s tender abdomen. "Mine," he growled. Greg fought him, the wolf panicking even as the human wanted. "I. Stop. Anton." No. No, submit. Anton bit again, shaking Greg a little. He pressed down against Greg, holding Greg’s body immobile as he growled deep in his throat. Instinct took over and Greg relaxed, panting, lifting his chin. Anton’s growls turned to approving whimpers and whines, and he gentled his hold, tongue licking Greg's skin, tasting the salt and musk of his mate. The relaxation increased, Greg sighing softly, hands wrapping around his waist. Groaning, he nibbled his way to Greg's nipples, biting at the little points of flesh. "Anton. God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snarl, man. I swear." "You're forgiven." As if he could stay angry at his mate. "We need this to be over, to be resolved." He needed to make love to his mate, to prove his dominance and show his love. "I want back in the kitchen. I want to cook for you." "God, yes. I miss your wonderful meals." He gnawed on Greg's nipple as if he was going to make a meal out of it. "We'll go to the kitchen. After this." "Okay. After." He smiled at the eager note in Greg's voice. Anton moved to the other nipple, teeth worrying the sensitive skin. His fingers danced their way down Greg's body, wrapping tightly around one hip. Greg's skin gave beautifully and he knew bruises would be popping up there. He kept moving downward, biting at Greg's navel, at the top of Greg’s pubes. Greg's cock jerked, brushed his cheek, gave it a wet, soft kiss. He could smell Greg's need here, the musk. He growled, resisting only long enough for that hardness to brush his cheek again, and then he twisted his head and pounced, sucking in the head. Greg's howl filled the room, echoing, ringing out. It made Anton suck harder in response, his tongue flicking back and forth across the tip. Greg twisted, turned, shifted until that hungry mouth could find his cock as well, his mate taking him in easily. He moaned around Greg's cock, hips snapping, eager to fuck Greg's hot mouth. Greg pulled hard enough that his toes curled, swallowing around the tip. He bobbed his head, taking Greg in over and over. They moved together, pleasure and need mingled together.
Bitten - 21
He could feel his climax building in his balls, could feel it echoed in Greg's cock, and knew his mate would come with him. Greg moaned, the sound vibrating around his prick. He sucked harder, his own hips pushing his cock deep. He was so close. One if Greg's fingers pushed inside him, stretching him. He jerked, his cock pulsing, shooting come down Greg's throat. Greg swallowed and sucked, hips driving in time. His own hips kept moving as he jerked through aftershocks, his mouth working Greg's prick. When Greg came, it was almost gentle, the desperation fading as Greg cleaned his cock. He drank everything Greg had and pulled off, growling softly, nuzzling the soft sacs. Greg patted his head. "Mmm. Yours."
Yes. "Yes, Mate. Mine." He encouraged Greg to turn and they kissed. He could taste himself in
Greg's mouth, the flavor mixing with the lingering taste of Greg's come on his own lips.
Greg held tight, eyelashes tickling him, the look peaceful.
He kept kissing, kept holding. They could invade Andrea's kitchen later.
They were done fighting, for now.
Bitten - 22
Chapter Four
Nathan padded through the compound, keeping his head down.
Keeping low.
He needed to get the path open to get Jackson out.
The others milled around, the pack of a dozen and a half males surprisingly close, tight. Lars
ruled here with an iron hand.
Nathan nodded to one as he headed toward the dorm. There was a fence behind the commissary,
behind the compost pile. He'd torn open a hole three days ago, watched to see if anyone noticed.
So far, so good.
Orion, one of Lars’ lieutenants, stopped him just before he got to the dorm. "Hey, you."
"Hey, man. How goes it?" He liked Orion, liked the easy-going smile.
Orion shrugged. "I'm a little bored, yeah? We need to get moving. Doing." Orion punched his
palm with his other hand.
"You just need to get laid, man. Aren't you old enough to want a little boredom?"
"Boredom is boredom. And if there was a single bitch around I'd be getting laid every night. Lars
doesn't believe in distractions."
Nathan let himself chuckle, roll his eyes. "Can't build a pack without bitches." God, he hated
this.
Bitten - 23
"Exactly! But Lars keeps them all to himself back at the f--" Orion broke off, obviously realizing
he'd been about to give away a secret most here at the compound didn't know.
"Anyway. I was thinking of going to go play with the prisoner a bit. Wanna join me?"
Fuck him. "Yeah? I got reamed for just taking the guy food."
"You fed him? Good idea. Keep his strength up so he lasts longer." Orion gave him a wolfish
grin. "Come on. We can play good wolf - bad wolf."
"Do I get to be bad wolf?" Orion had no idea. None at all.
Orion growled, heading in the direction of the building they were using as a prison. "I wanted to
be bad wolf."
"You got to be bad wolf last time."
"I'm good at it."
"You are." Please, Orion, go away. He didn't want to kill the man.
"I'm going to leave my mark on him tonight."
A sudden possessive snarl built in Nathan, surprising him.
Before it could escape him, before he needed to do something drastic, someone called for Orion.
"Boss is on the phone!"
"I'll meet you there, man." Okay, it was time. Lars took forever to debrief.
"Yeah, yeah, okay." Orion's focus was already on the call, no doubt trying to figure out how to
spin things to put himself in the best light.
Nathan headed in, nodding to the guard. "Orion's on a call, wants me to swap out. The front
needs a man."
Just like that the guy nodded, jogging off toward the front gate.
The coast was clear.
Nathan pulled the door open, meeting lovely, pale eyes. "It's time. Can you walk?"
Jackson didn't whine or say no. He simply pulled himself up, swaying unsteadily as the sawed-
through ropes fell from his wrists.
Bitten - 24
"Good man. We have to hurry. Keep the knife. If I get stopped, you go to the back of the compound. I cut a hole in the fence. There's a Jeep." "I will do my best to keep up with you." Jackson took a few deep breaths, nodding.
"Go, man. Now." He moved Jackson quickly, locking the door behind them, thankful that the sun
had set.
Jackson was limping, but he followed along gamely. Nathan could see the concentration in the man's face. Everything was silent, still and he knew the path like the back of his hand. The moon was black, the sky still. Jackson tripped over something on the path, grunting as he went down.
Nathan turned, snarling. "Quiet." God, pretty man, don't get us caught now. He reached down,
scooped Jackson up, and started running faster. Jackson struggled in his arms for a moment
before stilling, one arm wrapping around his neck and holding on. The word "sorry" was
whispered against his neck.
"Shh. I have you." He stumbled over some vines and nearly went down. Damn it. Damn it.
"Put me down, I can walk."
He eased Jackson down. "Come on. We're running out of time."
Jackson reached for his hand, holding on tight. "I can't see anything."
"Just follow me. We're close." They didn't have much time left.
Jackson stayed close, more sure-footed now with someone to hold on to. They'd just made it to
the compost heap when all hell broke loose behind them.
"Run, man. Now." He shoved Jackson through the hole in the fence, shutting it quickly. It
wouldn't hold up in the light of day, but for tonight, no one would see. The road was beyond the
trees, the Jeep hidden.
Jackson ran. He could hear the man stumbling and scrambling ahead of him in the woods that
surrounded the compound. He pulled Jackson to the left, nostrils flaring. They were going to
leave a scent trail a thousand yards wide.
"How far... how far do we have to run?"
"Not far. The Jeep is close." In fact he could see the shape of it, just barely.
"Good. I'll make it." Jackson's breathing had become labored.
Bitten - 25
"Shit. Hurry. If they find us, the keys are in the floorboard. You drive." There was a cabin, thirty
hours away, that he'd take them to.
"I'm hurrying. I am."
They hit the Jeep a moment later, literally in Jackson's case.
"In." He pushed Jackson in, found the key, and said a quick prayer to the moon herself that the
engine would turn over. When it roared to life, he floored it, hoping Jackson was holding on.
A shot sounded and Jackson dove down without him having to say a word.
All he had to do was get to the highway and drive.
Please.
Just let him get to the highway.
Bitten - 26
Chapter Five
Steak.
Steak.
Oh, God.
Greg stood in Andrea's kitchen, looking at her woefully inadequate spice selection. He had found
chives in the garden and created a compound butter, and the steaks were perfectly marbled, but
there was no garlic.
No 1013 onions.
No sweet potatoes.
"Is that steak?" Anton asked, practically drooling.
"Yes. The spices aren't great, though."
"You'll manage to work your magic anyway."
"You sound so sure." He found a heavy-bottomed pan and started heating it.
"I am. You make food more than just subsistence." Anton sat on one of the chairs at the small
kitchen table, hand sliding on Greg's ass as he passed.
"When are we going to be able to have a place again?"
"I don't know. I want Jackson back first."
Bitten - 27
Greg nodded. No one had heard anything.
Anton grumbled and stood, pacing over to the door, looking out, and then pacing back to the
chair.
"Sit down or go away. I'm working." He hated when Anton was restless.
Anton growled this time and came over, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him up
against the long body. The kiss was toothy and hard.
He actually dropped his spoon, eyes flying open. "Anton!"
He was given a wolfish grin, Anton nipping at the tip of his nose before his lover backed away
and sat down.
He stood there and blinked a second, just lost. Right.
Right.
Cooking.
Anton chuckled and gave a soft growl.
"Shut up." He grabbed one of the little yellow onions and started chopping, brandishing his
knife.
"Make me."
He stuck his tongue out, grinning. "I'm the one with the knife, man."
"Yes, I was just admiring your... knife."
"Yeah, yeah." Greg chuckled, salted and peppered the steak.
He could see Anton lick his lips. "I've missed your meals, Greg."
"Yeah. I miss being in the kitchen. I loved working for you." The parties, the late-night meals,
the challenge. He needed to get another job.
"You can always cook for me."
"I know. I will. I'll cook for you whenever I'm home." The steaks sizzled perfectly.
Anton growled. "What do you mean 'whenever'?"
Bitten - 28
"I have to find work, man. You know -- restaurant, cafe, something. I don't think I'll ever be anyone else's personal chef again." The growling became louder. "No, no you will not."
He nodded. "You spoiled me for that line of work." Hell, Anton had made him insane. Happy,
but insane.
"You're mine now. No one else can have you."
"I'm not going to fuck anyone, Anton. I'm going to feed them." Possessive bastard. He turned the
steak and added the onions.
"You don't think that's mine as well?" Anton demanded. He could smell Anton's arousal, his
musk.
"Huh?" He added pepper to the back of the steak and searched for plates.
"You feed me. I don't want you cooking for strangers." Anton had fought him on this from the
start.
"That's my job, Anton. Feeding people. Cooking."
Anton growled, eyes watching him. He rumbled in response, giving Anton one of the slabs of
meat. For a moment, he thought Anton was going to pick it up with his fingers and eat it like that, but then Anton reached for a fork and a steak knife. He started his steak, uncorked a bottle of red wine.
Anton moaned over his first bite, eyes half-closed in bliss. Beautiful asshole. Greg poured two
glasses of wine, humming a little under his breath.
Anton ate half the steak before pausing to drink some wine. "It's good."
"Thank you." Of course it was good.
Anton finished the meat, eating quickly, still moaning over each bite. He cut his own steak in
half, offering half to his lover.
Reaching out, Anton cupped his cheek. "You don't want it?"
"Half is enough for me." It was an urge he couldn't deny, to give Anton the best part.
Leaning over, his lover took a kiss. It started soft, but was soon toothy and hard. He opened to
the kiss, licking the blood off Anton's teeth. A shudder moved through Anton. One hand came up to cup the back of his head, holding him in place.
Bitten - 29
He slid around, pushing between Anton's thighs. Anton's free hand landed on his ass, dragging
him in closer. Oh, hell, yes. He moaned, nodded, forgetting about his steak.
Anton's fingers dug into his ass, the man's hard cock pressing against him. He groaned, stepped
close and rubbed, panting into Anton's mouth. Anton's hands pushed into his jeans to grab his ass
with nothing between them, nails digging into his flesh.
Oh. Oh, fuck. They hadn't pushed, played, been really wild together for eons.
Anton must have felt it, too, a low, needy growl tearing from his throat. The next thing to tear
was his shirt, Anton letting go of his ass in favor of ripping the shirt from him.
"Fuck. Anton, be careful. There are..." People. Here. Watching and stuff.
"More T-shirts." Anton's fingers raked over his skin, those sharp teeth biting at his lower lip.
"Huh?" Fuck him. Yes.
"You have other fucking T-shirts." Anton growled at him and then stood, pushing him down
onto the table, knocking dishes onto the floor.
"This isn't our place..." His legs parted, cock aching.
"It is right now." Anton pulled at his jeans, yanking on them.
"Anton." Stop. Don't stop. Something. Please.
His jeans finally made it down far enough for Anton's hand to wrap around his cock, the grip
tight, just the right side of painful.
Greg pushed closer, head back, nose in Anton's throat. He was bent over, ass out like a whore's.
"Want you." Anton was barely verbal, words noises, growls.
"Uh-huh." Duh.
"Need slick." Anton pushed a fingertip into him, the burn rough, good.
"Uh-huh." Slick. Right. Slick. "Olive oil?"
"Oil. Good." Anton pulled away, shoving the bottles around.
"Andrea's going to kill you, you know." Van stood, arms crossed. "There are rules about public
displays."
Bitten - 30
"Fuck off," growled Anton. "Fuck off and get out."
"Anton..." His cheeks hurt, they were so hot, and he stood, turning.
Anton stepped in front of him, snarling at Van. "I said get out."
Van snapped and turned. "Fuckhead."
"Asshole. Go find Andrea and get yourself laid." Anton was bristling.
"Wash the kitchen with bleach when you're done."
Anton slammed the door behind Van and then grabbed the olive oil, advancing on him.
"Maybe we should..." He was a little unnerved, a little wigged.
Anton's mouth closed over his, tongue pushing between his lips. Those hands wrapped around
him, pulled him in tight, and he forgot about breathing for a second.
Groaning, Anton began to rub against him again. His cock, which had started to flag, swelled
again.
"Want you more now." Anton's fingers slid over him, heading for his cock.
"What?" He pushed up toward the touch.
"More. Want you more." Anton's hand grabbed him again, stroking him.
"Oh." Okay, he didn't know what Anton wanted, but so long as the man didn't stop touching, he'd
go along with it.
The scent of the olive oil was strong as Anton got the bottle open, spilling it over his fingers.
"Anton." He leaned down, bit the join of shoulder and neck.
Anton jerked and moaned, fingers slick as they moved over his crack.
"Don't play anymore. I want what you give me." He leaned harder, bit again.
Growling, Anton bent him back, the table hard and unyielding against his back, and pushed two
fingers into him.
"More." He always needed more.
A third finger joined the first two, Anton moaning and pushing, nailing his gland and spreading
those fingers wide. He arched, body pushing into Anton, head falling back, a cry torn from him.
Bitten - 31
Anton's fingers slammed into him, kept hitting that same spot. "More?"
"More." Fuck him, yes. More more more.
Anton's fingers disappeared, the bottle of olive oil clinking against the table. Then Anton's
fingers were back, four spreading him wide.
"Oh..." His frantic motions slowed as the stretch became a deep, rich burn.
"More," whispered Anton, lips hot on his skin. Anton's fingers kept working into him; they'd
back out a little and then push in further.
"Anton. Oh, fuck." Legs shaking, eyes rolling, he kept moving, riding it.
Anton's fingertips nudged against his gland. He almost stood, pulling away, the pleasure so huge.
Fingers twisting, Anton pegged him over and over, stretching him wide.
"I. I can't breathe." He couldn't think.
"Breathing's overrated." Anton didn't stop, didn't slow down; he simply kept fucking him with
nearly his whole hand.
"Want you." He needed. He needed everything.
"Uh-huh." Anton's fingers slid away, his lover settling between his legs.
Greg reached down, took Anton's cock in hand and rubbed it against his hole.
Anton laughed, the sound husky and deep. "Pushy."
"I need you. I need us to have a house so you can fuck me and I can scream."
"Yes." Anton pushed into him, one hard thrust that slammed their bodies together. "It's yours."
"Ours. I want to cook you steak. I want to..." A picture of them running under the moon flashed
behind his eyes. "I want to hunt with you."
Anton put his head back at that and howled, body pushing hard against him, cock filling him up.
Greg whimpered, bucking hard, hand wrapping around his cock. Moving hard and fast, Anton
fucked him, took him hard right there on the kitchen table. It was good, filling him deep, letting
him feel every inch of Anton's prick.
"Love," muttered Anton. "Mate. Mine. Greg."
"Yeah. Yeah, c'mon."
Bitten - 32
"You first." The growl was low, and accompanied by a solid, hard thrust.
"M... make me." Please.
Anton's hand slapped his away and replaced it on his cock, nothing gentle in the touch. Jacking
him in time with each thrust, Anton bent and bit hard into his neck.
Greg shot hard, his entire body orgasming.
"Yes!" Anton's howl was pure triumph married to pleasure.
Greg went limp, humming softly, happy in his bones. Anton kept moving inside him, thrusts
slowing, softening, just like the kisses Anton peppered over his face.
"Anton." He held on, blinking slowly.
Humming and growling softly, Anton licked and nuzzled against him. "Mine."
"Yes." He hadn't been able to deny that for a while.
Anton's mouth closed over his, the kiss hard and deep. He opened, stomach snarling, reminding
him that his steak had landed on the floor. Anton kissed him hard and then backed off, petting his
belly. "You're still hungry." "Yeah, and the kitchen is a mess."
"Andrea has people who can clean." Anton waved a hand and tugged up his own pants before
helping Greg with his. The T-shirt was in tatters.
"Spoiled brat." He picked up the steak, tossed it, and started running water.
"What are you making?" Anton asked, wiping his hands on some paper towels.
"I'm going to wash up and make myself some pasta." Although that didn't sound good at all.
He wanted meat.
"I'm sure there's more steak," growled Anton, opening the fridge.
"I'm good." He was starving. Growly.
Anton rummaged through the fridge and tossed a package of steaks on the counter next to him.
He arched an eyebrow, actually rumbling this time.
"See. Steak. You don't want pasta." Anton made a gag face.
Bitten - 33
"Pasta is delicious." No, he didn't want pasta. He wanted that. Now.
Anton snorted and pushed the package of steaks toward him. "I'll have another."
His nostrils flared, muscles rippling as something inside him fought to shift.
No.
No, he would control this.
Anton growled, moving in and sniffing him. "I can smell you, Mate."
He whimpered softly, head tossing. No. No. He licked at Anton's jaw, panting softly at the flavor
there.
Anton opened the meat, unwrapping the plastic. "If you shift, you can eat it as is."
"No. I'm not..." The scent of meat and blood hit him and he growled, muscles rippling.
Anton knocked the package onto the floor, shifting into the wolf and barking at him.
He heard his clothes ripping distantly, his muzzle lifting to the ceiling. Anton nipped at his
muzzle, the bite sharp, but good. He snapped back playfully, and then pounced at the meat, so
hungry.
Anton growled and pushed him out of the way, grabbing the choicest piece. He pounced, biting
Anton's rump. His turn. Anton turned to him and growled, snapping at his muzzle.
Hurt filled him and he turned, loping out of the room, heading for the dark room that was their
den, hunger gnawing at him. He didn't understand. This wasn't good, wasn't home. Wasn't right.
Anton followed him soon after, a piece of steak in his mouth. It was placed in front of him,
Anton licking his muzzle. He growled softly, miserable and lost. His stomach begged him to eat,
to snap up the food. Anton growled back, licked his muzzle again. Then the steak was pushed
toward him, Anton giving him a bark.
Quick as a bunny, he grabbed it, running to the shadows to snap it up. It filled his belly, so good.
Anton barked twice, and then whined, curling up on the bed. He settled on the floor, staring.
Anton lifted his head and barked again, looking at him. Greg found himself slinking across the
floor, his heart wanting to answer that call. Anton jumped up, barking, the sounds
encouragement. Mate. He wagged, leaping onto the bed and pushing into Anton's warmth.
Anton barked again, the sound happy. Then Anton changed, fur disappearing, replaced by skin.
Bitten - 34
Closing his eyes, Greg curled up, tail on his nose. Anton's fingers dug into his fur, rubbing and
petting.
Oh! He stretched tall, tail thumping hard.
Anton chuckled. "You like that, Mate."
Of course he liked it. He flipped over on his back. Anton rubbed his belly, fingers digging in. It
felt so good. His legs moved lazily in the air, his tongue lolling out. Anton laughed and lay down
next to him, indulging him for quite a while.
Eventually he lost his wolf form, body stretching out to cuddle close to Anton. "Love."
"Mmm..." Anton nuzzled against his neck, licking and kissing, nibbling.
His eyes closed and he sighed happily. Anton curled around him, holding him close and
protected in the strong arms.
"Mine." He didn’t hesitate as he said it; Anton was. His.
Anton growled softly. "Yes."
He nodded, humming under his breath. Yes. His. Theirs.
Fed, sated, together, they curled on the bed and slept.
Bitten - 35
Chapter Six
Jackson sat in the front seat of the Jeep, bent over, arms wrapped around his legs. He'd stayed there even after the gun shots had been left behind. He felt safer this way. He wasn't thinking, though. He wasn't thinking about the way his body ached, the way he imagined he could taste his own blood in his mouth. He didn't think about where they were going -- it was definitely not back toward the city -- or whether he'd just gone from the frying pan into the fire. For all he knew, this man was simply a new captor.
Jackson closed his eyes, breathed, and held onto his legs for dear life.
"Are you hurt?" The man was gruff, solid, a tad growly.
"I'm not sure." Everything ached -- he had been beaten, after all -- but he didn't know if there was
anything serious.
"I can't stop yet. There are painkillers in the glove compartment, bottled water behind the seat.
Andrea sent me."
Andrea. He was safe, then. "What about Anton and Greg?" One of the men torturing him had
told him they had killed them both. He’d held onto the belief that it wasn’t true.
“They’re at Andrea’s. Lars doesn’t know. He believes they ran after the explosion. That your
man took his pup and panicked. We’re heading north to hole up for a few weeks.”
"Explosion?" That had him sitting up, startled, even as he blew a sigh of relief.
Bitten - 36
"The building where you lived. It's gone. Destroyed." "Was anyone hurt? Why is this Lars doing this?" Jackson opened the glove compartment, pulling out the pain pills. "Your boys weren't hurt. Lars wants Anton's territory. He wants Andrea and any of the males who won’t challenge him."
"But was anyone in the building hurt?" It had been a high rise with hundreds of tenants.
Reaching back, he found the water and took a pair of pills.
"I don't know. The emergency people were there quickly."
He sighed, lying back in his seat. "This is crazy. You don't go around doing what Lars is doing."
He knew werewolves were different, but this was ridiculous. The beasts had to come into the
twenty-first century.
"You don't have to tell me, man. I'm just the muscle."
"And nice muscles they are, too." He had no idea why he'd said that, though it was certainly true.
The man -- and why he hadn't asked for a name, he wasn't sure -- chuckled, smiled at him. "Hit
your head?"
"Yes, I'm sure I did. Or had it hit for me." He gave the man a wry smile.
"I'm sorry I couldn't spring you sooner. I did my best."
"It could have been worse." He had a hunch it would have been much worse had he remained a
prisoner any longer.
"Yeah. Yeah. Get me a protein bar, man? I'm starving."
He felt back where he'd found the water and found a few bars. Opening one, he passed it over.
"I'm Jackson, by the way."
"Nathan. Thanks."
"So where are we going, Nathan?"
"North. There's a cabin." This man was possibly even less verbose than Anton.
"For how long?"
"A few weeks. There's food, safety. Quiet."
Bitten - 37
"A place to heal," he murmured softly, blinking at the scenery that was flashing by, mostly trees,
their leaves gone.
"Yes." Warm eyes flashed over to him. "It will be okay."
"I hope so." It was stupid, because he was safe now, but he began to shake, to shiver. He tried,
but couldn't stop. He knew it was shock, knew his body was reacting now that it was safe, but it
still scared him, the way he couldn't control it.
"Easy. Easy. What's your first name, man?"
"My first name?" The question startled him. He'd been Jackson for years, certainly since he'd
started working for Anton. "Geoffrey."
"Geoffrey. I like that. Where're you from? I like your voice."
"England. But I've been here with Anton for many years." The questions distracted him from the
way his body was betraying him.
"England, huh? I've never been. I'd like to, one day. Does it really rain all the time?"
"No, no. Not at all."
"Really? That's cool."
"Yeah. Maybe. Where are we?" He was cold and he wanted to sleep. He needed to sleep.
"The Gatineaus. There's a cabin waiting for us."
"Will we be there soon?"
"It'll be a few hours. We’ll drive all night. I want to be sure no one can find us, you know?"
"A few hours?" Or more than a few by the sound of it. He groaned, just wanting to be able to lie
down, to shut his eyes and finally sleep.
"You can wrap up in the back seat. There's a sleeping bag."
"If you don't mind... I take it we won't be stopping and I should just crawl back there?"
"Crawl away. We'll stop when we're farther down the road." His leg was patted, the touch gentle.
"Okay." He touched Nathan's hand. "Thank you."
"It's what I do." The man's smile warmed him, quite thoroughly.
Bitten - 38
"Oh? You make a habit of rescuing kidnap victims?"
"You're not the first, no. I am an extractor, for want of a better term."
"Ah, I see." He wasn't sure why that should give him a little pang, but it did.
"Get some rest, man. You'll feel more like you're alive after a nap."
Jackson nodded and climbed into the back, trying hard not to bump Nathan. There was a sleeping
bag, a pillow, thrown back there for him. Oh. He sank onto the pillow and pulled the sleeping
bag up around his shoulders. He was touched by the thoughtfulness.
He closed his eyes, his exhaustion taking him.
Bitten - 39
Chapter Seven
Anton looked out the farmhouse windows. He wanted to take Greg and run across the fields into the woods. He wanted to hunt and to play. It was uncivilized and pure instinct and he didn't care. He also needed to go find Jackson. He needed to find a new home. He needed to deal with Lars. There had been nothing from Lars -- no more offers to trade, no taunts. Anton’s cell phone had remained silent. He growled softly, his shoulders tight.
Hands landed on his shoulders, unfamiliar and strong. "You're all tense, Alpha."
He turned to see one of the older males, the look inviting, wanton.
One of his eyebrows went up. "I have a mate."
"He's not here. I'm simply offering comfort."
"I don't need comfort. I need my family."
"I'm right here." Greg's voice was low, furious. "Leave him alone."
Anton grinned at his possessive mate and gave the other male a look. "You heard him."
"I'd do you both." The little fuck wasn't paying attention.
"If you're not careful, I'll leave you alone with my mate -- let him handle you."
Greg came up, the ink seeming alive on his skin. "Leave. My. Mate. Alone."
Bitten - 40
Anton folded his arms and leaned against the window ledge, grinning. Greg was hot, sexy, like
this.
The little one -- he didn't even remember the asshole's name -- puffed up, but backed away a
step. "Come on, you mean to say you never play?"
"No." Greg was bristling.
"I don't share." He didn't like other men even looking at his mate.
"I don't either. Go away." Greg wasn't a big man, but the passion there couldn't be denied.
Anton put his arm around Greg, all puffed up with pride at his mate. "Go away. We don't want
you."
Greg pressed closer, hand on his belly staking a claim. To his surprise, the little beta smiled,
nodded, and panted a bit. "Told Van you two were tight. Congrats." Suddenly, aggressive and
pushy turned into puppyish and playful, the little one bouncing over to lick and nuzzle before
bounding away.
He blinked, watching the man go, ass wiggling the whole time. Then he growled. "We need to
get Jackson and find a place of our own."
"Yes. God, yes."
"We should confront Andrea together. She's put us off long enough." Of course, at the moment
he was a little distracted by Greg's fingers on his belly; the stroking was making him hard.
"Mmmhmm. We should. We need to know what's what." Greg's hand dropped, nudged his cock.
He growled and grabbed Greg's shoulders, pulling him close for a hard, toothy kiss. Greg met
him full force, growling into his kiss, goatee scratching his cheeks. Greg’s fingers slid down to
squeeze his balls.
Anton spread his legs, prick going full-on hard, a howl sitting in the back of his throat. Fingers
teasing and stroking, Greg was trying to make him insane, he knew it.
"Mate. Love." He did howl, pushing against Greg, holding his mate close.
"Yes." Greg latched onto his throat, shaking him a bit, marking him.
He growled, his hands tight on Greg's arms. He couldn't fight the urge, though, and he turned
them, slamming Greg up against the wall. Greg gasped, one leg wrapping around his hip and dragging him closer. He rubbed them together, the passion right there, hot and strong so quickly. "Mine." One hand wrapped around his nape, dragging him close.
Bitten - 41
"And you're mine." He bit at Greg's lips, teeth digging in hard enough that he tasted the copper
of Greg's blood.
"Yes." Greg rubbed against his leg, humping restlessly.
He grabbed Greg's thigh, squeezing it, pushing hard against his mate. Greg's head fell back,
throat working. So needy, all his. He took the exposed neck as an invitation, mouth latching onto
Greg's skin.
"Anton." The single word was snarled out, Greg bucking for him.
"Mate," he growled back, grabbing at Greg's ass.
"Fuck. Horny bastard."
"You are." He grinned wildly at Greg.
"Am not." Greg smiled back, chuffing, eyes bright.
He reached down and grabbed Greg's prick through his jeans. "Are, too." He could feel Greg,
throbbing, wanting him. "Mine," he growled again, tugging hard on the rigid prick.
"Yes." Greg fought to open his jeans.
He helped, sort of, his fingers eager for the hard, velvety cock. Greg arched, pushing into the
touch, demanding that he squeeze, tug, give Greg what they both needed. He moaned, his own
hips jerking as Greg finally got his pants open and tugged him out.
"More. More, Anton. Now. I want out of here. I want our lives back." Those eyes were flashing,
pissed.
"Yes. Yes, Mate." Anton growled, squeezed Greg's prick tighter.
Greg groaned, leaning in to bite at his lips, the bites stinging, burning him. Such strength in his
lover, his beautiful mate. He growled and bit back.
"Will you two stop it? Don't you want to know where Jackson is? Horndogs." Andrea came in,
wearing work clothes.
He snarled at her. How dare she interrupt them!
She snarled back, pushing right into his space, slamming him back against the wall. He got a
double handful of her blouse and growled, returning the favor by turning them and slamming her up against the wall. "Don't forget who's alpha here."
Bitten - 42
"I haven't." She was almost as strong as he was, almost as tall. "You sure are acting like you have." He growled again, holding her against the wall, refusing to back down for a second. Her knee came up, hitting his balls squarely, and he yelped, losing his grip. Andrea slid out from under him, shoulder slamming against his own.
He nearly collapsed, eyes crossing a little before he reached out and grabbed her arm. "Do that
again and I'll kill you," he snarled. Only the alpha bitch could have done such a thing to him and not immediately get taken out. "You'll try." She was marvelous -- strong and wild and sure. A good leader. The perfect alpha female. "I will." He growled again, just for good measure, and then let her arm go. "You have news of Jackson?" "Nathan's got him. They're on the way to a safe house in the mountains. Lars thinks you're both dead."
"Safe? He's safe? Where's this house? We'll go right away."
"I don't know."
He growled, finally tucking himself back into his pants. "What do you mean, you don't know?
You can't expect us to believe Jackson's fine without seeing the proof for ourselves!"
"Look, Anton. Nathan's undercover. Deep undercover, and he did me a favor. He had to cut and
run with your man, but one of the stipulations was I let him do his job."
Anton growled and pushed past her. He began to pace. "I am cut down at every turn. Left in the
dark. Made to wait like I'm some beta so far down the food chain I don't matter anymore."
"Why don't you get out of town, then? Travel. Deal with the insurance company and the money
and come back in a few weeks?"
"You don't tell me what to do!"
Andrea growled, then stopped, took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Anton."
Everyone stopped, stared at her.
"Really. Do what you need to. If I were you, I'd go and run for a few days."
Bitten - 43
It was a good idea -- he needed to figure out what they were going to do. Were they going to stay and fight Lars, or was he going to take his family and find a new home? Leave the pack to its own devices or protect it? "You swear to me that Jackson is safe?" "He's safer than you are right now. Nathan is a professional; I'd trust him with my mate without
question."
Anton growled and grabbed Greg, tugging him close. "No one touches my mate."
Andrea chuckled. "When you build a new home, you'll need to leave yourself pissing room."
"You don't need to worry yourself about what goes on in my home." God, if he'd been into
women, Andrea would have been a fantastic mate. As it was, she was just pissing him off.
"Fuck you." She flipped him off and turned on her heel.
He chuckled, reaching for Greg. Greg pushed into his arms, tense, rumbling softly. He stroked
his hands down along Greg's spine. "Shh, mate. I have you."
"I'm... this sucks." So eloquent, his mate.
"It does. But Jackson is safe. That's good news, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it made me sort of sick, thinking of him being hurt."
He nodded and growled. "Let's get the hell out of here."
"Really? Now?" Greg was already moving, the constant hiding chafing his lover.
"Yeah. We can decide where we're going on the way." They had some decisions to make. They
had running together beneath the moon to do.
"Okay. I'll pack."
Anton snorted. "What? Borrowed clothes? We don't need anything but each other." He had
stashes of cash here and there.
"Okay. We'll need our wallets. I'll meet you on the bike."
He pulled Greg in close, kissing his mate hard. "Five minutes."
"Five. Take me out of here, Anton."
Bitten - 44
"Yes." He kissed Greg again and then strode off toward Andrea's office. One of his stashes was
in there.
Andrea wasn't anywhere to be found and the pack was conspicuously absent, giving him some
breathing room.
It felt good.
He found the little safe behind the painting and spun the dials.
"So, you're really going?" Devon's voice was soft, warm. "You will come back, though, right?
Greg promised to teach me how to cook."
"We'll be back for Jackson." More than that he couldn't promise. Greg wanted them to find
somewhere new, somewhere without a war looming. He wasn't sure he could do that. No matter
how civilized he liked to pretend he was, there was still a wolf inside him.
"Take care." He got a quick hug, a kiss on the cheek.
He grunted, nodded. "Thanks. You, too." He had to go. Greg was waiting for him.
He grabbed the money out of the safe, the envelope clearly marked, and closed it back up,
spinning the dials before heading out to the front of the house.
Greg was waiting for him, straddling the bike, tension written all over him.
Growling, Anton strode over. "Everything okay?" he asked as he sat in front of his mate.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just... You know."
He grabbed Greg's thigh and squeezed. "I know. Hold on tight."
"Forever." He wasn't sure that he heard that, but he chose to assume he had.
He kicked the starter, the bike roaring to life between his thighs.
With Greg's arms around his waist, he pointed the bike northwest, not looking back.
Bitten - 45
Chapter Eight
The cabin was standing and solid, and Nathan parked in the back. The rain was coming down, the sky gray and gloomy, and he wasn't going to complain about that at all. Cool and cloudy suited him to the bone. There would be snow soon enough. Nathan unloaded first, and then went to grab Jackson -- Geoffrey -- who was wrapped up in blankets in the back, sleeping hard.
He hadn't had a chance to check out the extent of the man's injuries, but Lars had been pretty
clear that Geoffrey was to be kept alive -- tortured, yes, but if he died too soon, so would their
fun.
Geoffrey groaned as Nathan touched him.
"Shh. It's okay, man. I'm going to get you in and into a warm bed, 'kay?"
Geoffrey's hazel eyes blinked open, one nearly but not quite swollen shut. "Nathan? We're safe?"
"Yes. We're safe. We're going to settle in, heal and wait, okay?" He gathered Geoffrey close. "I
have you."
Geoffrey curled into his arms, settling easily against his chest. "Okay. Healing sounds good."
"I bet it does." He fought the urge to growl; this one got to him, made him want to howl. "We've
got food, supplies. Even a little generator."
"Pain pills?" Geoffrey asked drily.
Bitten - 46
"You know it." He grinned, chuffing softly. "And a guy with years of massage experience. You'll
be fine."
"I don't know that I've ever had a massage." Geoffrey patted his arm idly. "You shouldn't have to
carry me; I should walk."
"Shh. We're here." He muscled them inside and eased Geoffrey down on the bed, cocooning the
man in blankets before going to start the woodstove.
There were a few more groans from the bedroom. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."
"Hush. We'll blame Lupi, okay?"
There was silence for a second, and then a laugh, followed by a pained moan.
"Easy, man. Easy." He found two muscle relaxants and a bottle of water. "Take these, it'll help."
Geoffrey dutifully swallowed the pills, beat-up hand trembling a little as he held the water bottle
to his mouth.
"I'm not usually the one being waited on," Geoffrey admitted as he lay back with a sigh.
"You've earned it." He felt the man's forehead, nodded. No fever. Good.
Geoffrey nuzzled into his hand a moment, eyes closing.
"That's it. I've got you. I swear it." Pack. The word hit him, bone deep.
Geoffrey sighed again, his body going lax as he fell asleep. Geoffrey's trust in him was obviously
complete.
Nathan kissed the smooth forehead, tongue flicking out for the quickest taste.
Salty. Male. His.
He knew now.
Bitten - 47
Chapter Nine
They rode until they were both soaked to the skin, heading west now, flying over the highway. Greg kept his cheek against Anton's shoulder, arms wrapped around his lover. They had traveled past Toronto before they stopped, pulling into a motel in a small town just west of the big city. "We can stay here tonight." "Okay." He was shivering, teeth rattling some, but he was happy to be moving, out under the
sky.
Anton went in and registered them, coming back out a few minutes later with a room key. "We're
on the ground floor. This place backs out onto a field." He was given a wolfish smile.
"I..." He didn't know how to deal with that, in public. How would they lock the door behind
them? What if they got lost? What if he forgot how to change back?
"Come on." Anton grabbed his arm and tugged him toward a room at the far end of the motel.
"Pushy." He followed, boots slipping on the slick concrete.
"Yep." Anton gave him a look that sizzled all the way to his boots. "I am."
"And completely unrepentant, too."
"It's a great quality in an alpha; why should I repent it?" Anton unlocked the door and pulled him
inside.
Greg looked around, realizing that they weren't in Andrea's place, that they were free. The place
was small but clean, even if it did smell unused, closed up. There was a double bed, and two
chairs at a tiny table, a dresser with an old television bolted to it.
Bitten - 48
Greg headed to the bathroom, looking for towels. He was soaked.
Anton was right behind him. "Hot shower. Together."
"Sounds good." He stripped his shirt off, draping it over the towel rack.
Anton made a purring noise, eyes on his chest, fingers reaching to trace his tattoos. "You need
my mark on you."
"Do I?" He arched into the touch. He'd worn a number of Anton's marks.
"Yes." Reaching up, Anton stroked the hickey on his throat. "A permanent mark."
"And here I was thinking you were going to pop my ass again..." He'd wear Anton's ink.
Absolutely.
"Well, it's not like there's a tattoo shop anywhere near here, so I think that's an excellent idea."
"I was joking." Mostly.
"I'm not." Anton pulled him in close, fingers digging into his jeans.
"Anton." He stepped closer, cock jerking.
"You still remember my name." Anton winked, growling softly, working his jeans open.
"I'm good that way." Times like this, he was lucky he remembered his own.
Anton nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in as he fought with the wet jeans, trying to get them
down.
"I hate wet denim." It clung, so much.
"That's why we're getting you out of it." Anton bit at his throat.
"Ow. Be good, now." Or don't. That would work for him, too.
"I am being good." Anton nipped again. "Very good."
"Not." He kicked out of his jeans, trying to get to the shower.
"I am!" Anton grabbed him and pulled him up against the strong, wet-clothes-covered body.
"Dude! Cold! Wet!" He started laughing, trying to pull away.
Bitten - 49
"Then you should do something about it." Anton squeezed his ass.
He grinned and tugged Anton, fully-dressed, into the shower, and turned the hot water on.
"Greg!"
"What?" God, this was fun.
"You! I! Clothes!"
"Wow. And also, yes." He was going to get his butt blistered.
Anton growled, pulling at his clothes. "Just you wait."
"You're busy." He rinsed off, the water warm, good against his skin.
"I won't be for long." The buttons on Anton's shirt gave way, popping against the tiles.
"You don't have another to change into..." He was so screwed.
Anton fixed him in place with a growl and started working on his jeans.
Greg wanted to move. He did. But his fucking body wouldn't.
And then it was too late. Anton was out of his jeans, utterly naked and advancing on him.
"What did you do to me?" he asked, one foot sliding back.
Anton caught him and pulled him up tight against the solid body. "I haven't done anything. Yet."
"Yet." His cock was so hard he hurt.
Anton grabbed his arms and pushed him up against the tile, mouth slamming down on his. He
moaned, cock throbbing, balls aching with need. Then the kiss was over and Anton turned off the
water, dragging him out of the shower.
"Where are we going?" He had been rooting for shower sex.
"I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you."
He groaned, hand tugging his balls.
Anton barely took the time to give him a short, rough toweling. Anton was just as rough with his
cock and balls, making him grunt. Whimper.
Bitten - 50
"Come on." Anton moved them into the bedroom and tossed him onto the mattress on his
stomach.
His hips bucked up, his cock pushing him up off the mattress.
"Look how you want it." Anton landed beside him, one hand coming down onto his ass.
"No." Except yes. So much. Harder, Anton.
"No?" Anton hit his ass again, palm flat, slapping hard. "I think yes."
"No." He spread, moaning low, bucking up into the touch.
"You’re begging for it." And Anton was giving it to him, one smack after another, heating his
skin.
Greg braced himself, pushed back against each blow.
"Yeah. Like that. Like that." Anton was panting, growling low in his throat.
"Need you." Fuck, it was hot. So good. So fucking necessary.
"I know." Anton suddenly bent and bit his ass cheek.
"Fuck!" He jerked, hips slamming against the mattress. "Bastard."
"Yours." Anton just kept smacking him. "Yours."
"Yes. Fuck. More. God, it's good."
"Yes!" Anton hissed, hand moving over both cheeks, the top of his thighs.
"Want you. Want you so fucking bad." He just kept moving, kept humping.
"Gonna get me. Soon as we're done here." Anton's little finger just caught his balls.
"Fuck!" He pulled away, sobbing a little.
Anton dragged him back, hitting his ass faster, harder, just going to town on him.
"Anton! Anton, Mate!" He howled, his ass burning.
"Mine!" Two fingers pushed into him, wet with Anton's saliva.
"Yes. Yes, please. Please!" He couldn't catch his breath, fingers scrabbling on the covers.
Bitten - 51
The prep was short, but sweet, Anton's fingers making him burn. He nodded frantically, rocking
back as much as he could. He keened as Anton's fingers disappeared.
A moment later his lover was there, pushing into him, filling him with hard heat.
"Yes." Anton's hands wrapped around his shoulders, holding on, dragging him in.
Every time Anton's hips slammed against his ass, it shot sensation all through him. The edges of
his world faded, his heart slamming in his chest. Anton set up a hard, steady thrusting, pushing in
deep. His arms buckled, shoulders landing on the mattress.
Anton's hand slid around his prick, pulling as hard as Anton was fucking. He screamed, spunk shooting from him, the world going gray. The only thing that existed was Anton's cock, filling his ass again and again until finally Anton went still, cock throbbing, pumping him full of heat. He whimpered, burning up, soaring. Anton lay on him, breath panting harshly.
"Love." He gasped the word.
"Mate," Anton replied softly, the low growl vibrating against his chest.
"Yes."
Anton's lips closed over the back of his neck, teeth digging sharply into his skin.
"Fuck. Fuck." He whimpered, jerking, fucking himself on Anton's cock all over again as the
world went red.
Anton's howl called for his own, shot straight through him. Those teeth struck again, Anton
shaking him, and he bucked, riding harder, his cry ringing from him. They slammed together,
bodies wild, harsh panting and groans coming from them both.
It was pure heat and pleasure and claiming.
The last sure, human thought he had before everything dissolved into raw need was that he was
going to be really sore in the morning. Anton's howl preceded the heat that filled him deep inside, the grip on his cock tightening as Anton came. His orgasm was almost an afterthought, just shaking him a little bit.
They collapsed together, Anton hot and solid above him, his lover's breath panting across the
skin of his neck, teasing the bites that had been left there.
"Mate." He was going to die a happy man.
Bitten - 52
"Yes. Mate." Anton growled softly and licked his neck. "Mine."
"Yeah. Yours, all of me."
"Mmm..." Anton's low rumble sounded half asleep.
His own answer was a soft snore.
Bitten - 53
Chapter Ten
Jackson whimpered softly.
Everything ached, from his swollen eye down to his feet. Someone had stepped on his right foot
and he knew one or two toes were broken. He thought maybe he'd like to just go back to sleep
until the hurting stopped, thank you very much.
"Here, Geoff. Have these, it'll ease it." Two pills were pressed to his lips, then a straw.
He tried to say "thank you," but his mouth was too dry and it came out as a croak. He sucked on
the straw, the water blessedly cool.
Gentle touches brushed his jaw, his hair. "Easy."
The touches were such a contrast to the beatings he'd been taking, and they felt so good. The
blankets were adjusted, keeping him cocooned and warm. Still. Safe.
"Where...?" He had vague memories of running and then driving. Someone... Nathan. Nathan
rescuing him.
"Shh. You're okay. Recovering. You're at the cabin, recovering."
Oh, yes. He remembered now. They were safe and warm at some cabin. "Thank you." He
managed the words this time.
"Mmm." Another touch eased him, tempted him back into sleep.
"I should..." There wasn't anything he could think of that he needed to be doing, though, even
though his whole life had been devoted to doing and working, taking care of Anton.
Bitten - 54
"Shh. You should rest. The pills will make you floaty." "Okay. Floaty would be better than ouchie." His eyes stayed closed -- it was easier than trying to open them. "Indeed. Are you hungry?" He considered that and was surprised to find that he was, just a little. "Yes." "Soup or toast?" He didn't even have to think about it. "Soup." Chewing sounded like far too much effort. "I'll be right back." Soft whistling filled the air, the sound echoing and oddly familiar. He floated, there in his nest of warm, soft covers, the pills driving the aches away. "I brought you tomato soup with a straw in the mug, so you don't have to sit up." Another straw
nudged his lips.
Oh, bless the man.
He managed to open his eyes a crack, offering Nathan a smile before he sucked carefully. Warm
and soothing, it slipped down his throat, so good. He drank several more sips before it became
too much effort, sleep pulling at him.
"Rest, now. You're good." That touch came again, and what he imagined was the softest, open-
mouthed kiss to his temple.
It was soothing and comforting and he let sleep have him, the sensation of that touch following him into his dreams.
Bitten - 55
Chapter Eleven
Anton woke after the sun was up. He felt well-sated, and the heat from Greg's ass felt great
against his belly.
His stomach growled. Loudly.
Very loudly.
They'd skipped dinner last night; they'd fallen asleep right after making love. He poked Greg's
shoulder, purring happily at the sight of his bite marks on his mate's skin.
"Shh. Sleeping." Greg curled up tighter under the covers.
"I'm hungry." He poked Greg again, and then leaned in and kissed him.
"There's a vending machine. Get a Snickers." Greg chuckled, pushed in closer.
"I want real food. Steak." He'd seen a diner just down from the hotel when they'd ridden in. He'd
bet they did great breakfasts. "Maybe pancakes, too."
"Mmm. Pancakes." Greg's stomach rumbled. "Although I really want bacon."
"I'm sure any place that can do us steak and pancakes can also do bacon." His stomach growled,
rivaling Greg's. "Come on. Get up before our stomachs revolt and eat us."
Greg's laughter rubbed that fiery backside against him. He groaned happily, hand reaching for
Greg's morning wood. There was no reason they couldn't have a quickie...
"I thought you were hungry."
Bitten - 56
"I am." He wrapped his fingers tight around Greg's prick, his own nestling along Greg's crack, the heat incredible. "Mmm. I won't let you eat me up." Greg's legs spread, letting one of his in.
"That's not what you usually say." He began to stroke Greg's prick, thrusting with his hips along
Greg's ass.
"Are you sure?" Greg's head fell forward, a mark on the back of Greg’s neck lurid, bloody. In
time there would be a scar. His scar. His mate.
It made him move faster, his hand and his hips, a low growl his only answer.
"Anton." Greg rocked for him, muscles rolling, shifting the colorful ink.
"Right here." He growled the words, the need sharp under his skin.
"Yes. Fuck. I'm burning up."
"On fire for me." Anton growled, squeezing Greg's cock harder.
"Are you sure?" Always pushing. His Greg was always pushing.
"I know." He pushed his thumb into the slit at the top of Greg's cock.
Greg jerked, legs shifting and spasming. "Fuck."
"No, just a quick hand job."
The laugh he received was breathless, gasping.
He moved them faster, eager to get to the coming. Greg went first, crying out and tumbling over
the edge, heat spraying over his fingers. The scent of it was all he needed, spunk spraying out of
him and up along Greg's back.
"Mmm." That hum was happy, deep, satisfied.
He brought his hand up and began to lick Greg's come from it.
"Damn." Greg moaned, stretching out under him.
He kissed Greg's neck, making soft noises. The moment was ruined by his stomach protesting
loudly once again.
"We have to eat. A cow. Possibly two."
Bitten - 57
"I've been saying that from the start," he pointed out. "Come on, lazybones."
"Jackass. Come shower."
"There's no food in the shower." He got up, though.
"We smell like come. They'll throw us out."
"All right. But no sex in the shower. I need to eat."
"Bitch, bitch, bitch."
"Not me. I'm all alpha male." Grinning, he high-tailed it to the bathroom.
He got pounced, Greg's arms and legs wrapped around him. Laughing, growling, he stumbled
into the bathroom, dragging his mate along with him. Greg bit his shoulder, nibbling at him,
teasing him.
He dragged them both into the shower, the hot water falling down on them.
"Mmm. This is a much better shower today. We should go buy clothes."
"Shit. My stuff got soaked last night." And he sure as hell hadn't been thinking about spreading it
out so it would dry...
"And torn. You did a lot of tearing."
He growled. "I'm hungry."
His jacket would be dry. As long as he hadn't torn his jeans, he could always wear them wet.
"You said. You're also naked."
"Well, we're in the shower."
Greg's laugh filled the air.
He grabbed the soap and ran it over Greg, soaping his lover up.
"Mmm." Greg rubbed against him, the soap bubbles popping.
"This is just a shower." Anton was reminding himself as much as Greg. It didn't matter that he'd
just come; his mate made him want to make love all over again.
"I'm just cleaning you off, Anton. Just touching. Not everything's about sex."
Bitten - 58
"You make me want you when you touch me." Or when he smelled Greg. Or saw him. Maybe
not everything was about sex, but lots of things were.
"You can't want me already. You just had me." Greg washed his arms, his hands.
He gave Greg a look. "Mate. I always want you."
"That's not what I mean. There's 'wanting' in that general desire way, and 'wanting' in that 'if I
don't fuck your ass my balls are going to explode' way. Two different things."
Greg was right. When had he given in to the animal? When had he lost control? The answer to that was right in front of him. "Well, my stomach is growling madly. I'm wanting in that 'I wish you were making me steak' way." Greg's look warmed, fingers moving to cup his jaw. "I want to cook for you. You know that.
More than anything."
"You think the diner would let you use the kitchen?"
"Not a chance. We'll find a place, though. A cabin, a condo, something."
Anton’s stomach growled again. "Yeah, but for now someone else's cooking will do."
"If we can find you a shirt, yeah."
"I'll keep my leather jacket on." He turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing the towel off
the floor.
Greg nodded, gathering his T-shirt and shaking it out. "Man, food, then store."
"Yeah." He reached out and stroked Greg's bruised ass.
Greg jerked for him, stepped away. "Sore. Good sore, but sore."
"I know." He was going to enjoy watching Greg squirm at the diner.
He grabbed his jeans. They were still quite damp, but at least they weren't sopping. Making a
face, he began to work them on.
"Jeans. T-shirts. Underwear. Socks." Greg dressed, idly making a list.
Anton put on his jacket. "See? I'm presentable." If somewhat squishy.
"You're going to mold."
"I'll risk it. Come on. Let's go eat."
Bitten - 59
"I'm right behind you."
"You like the view?" He shook his ass.
His answer was a hard swat.
"Be careful." He held the door open for Greg. "I might reciprocate."
"No way. My ass is sore." There was indeed a diner just across the parking lot, visible in the
morning light.
"That was my point." He grinned at Greg and ignored the way his damp pants rubbed.
Their laughter rang out -- not the sophisticated chuckling he was used to doing, but full-bodied
laughter. They were still laughing as they entered the diner, the locals turning to look at them.
The waitress came up, smiled, and led them to a booth. "Coffee?"
Greg nodded. "Yes, please."
"And we'd both like steak and eggs with pancakes, please." He didn't see any reason not to get
the food started.
"Hungry this morning, are you? How would you like your eggs?"
Greg answered. "Sunny side up, please, and with bacon."
Anton nodded. "And the steaks should be rare." He couldn’t wait.
"You got it, boys."
Greg grinned over. "We're going to get a place with a kitchen."
"A big kitchen. Or at least one with top of the line equipment."
"Yes."
Greg bounced a little, and then winced. "Damn."
He chuckled, prick jerking. God, he loved that, the careful way Greg was sitting.
"Don't you laugh at me, Anton." Greg grinned, winked.
"It's laugh or pounce. I'm holding out for food before there's any pouncing."
Bitten - 60
"God, me too." Greg's wolf was at the surface, shining out through the eyes.
It called to the animal inside him and he growled softly, reaching out to touch Greg's cheek. "I'll
feed you, Mate."
Greg rumbled, claws scratching on the table.
"Careful," he murmured, tamping down his own response. If he let his wolf as near the surface as
Greg's was, his mate would likely not be able to control the change.
"Here comes the coffee -- it can fool our stomachs into believing we're already being fed."
"Uh-huh." Greg was panting, nostrils flaring.
Anton didn't touch Greg again, not wanting to break that fine control.
The waitress came back with their coffees. "Your food'll be ready in a few. Is there anything else
I can get you?"
Greg shook his head, muttering softly.
"We're good. Just need the food we've ordered, thanks."
"Well, like I said, it'll be ready in a few." She left some little creamers at their table and went on
with the pot to the next table.
"Anton. How do I... It's close. What's going on?"
"Some things draw the wolf to the surface. Pain, hunger, strong emotions. The moon. That last
one you can't control." He took a sip of his coffee, his stomach feeling like it was trying to claw its way out of his belly. "The others you can learn to control." Greg nodded, swallowed. Sighed.
"Have some coffee. It'll help." Or at least distract his mate from the hunger pushing the wolf to
the forefront.
"Okay. I'm sorry. It's weird." Greg gulped down the coffee, yelping a little at the heat.
"It'll be second nature soon enough. We'll find somewhere we can let the beasts out to play." He
glanced back at the counter, sighing when it was clear their food wasn't up yet.
"I'm going to make steaks and pasta and stir fry."
"But mostly steaks." He grinned and winked. He liked everything Greg cooked, but steak was the
very best.
Bitten - 61
"I know. I could murder a big, juicy burger."
He groaned. Luckily the waitress came back with their food then; he was practically drooling.
He'd never seen Greg eat so fast, and it occurred to him that Greg had missed a number of the
last few meals they’d had, even ones Anton had eaten. No wonder his mate was hungry.
He ate nearly as quickly, downing his steak in a few quick bites before slowing down for the
eggs, bacon and pancakes.
Greg moaned, licking his fingers clean. "Good."
He watched the licking through narrowed eyes, licking his own lips. "Very good."
"I want more."
Anton passed over the rest of his pancakes and raised his hand to get the waitress' attention.
"Could we have a couple of burger platters, please?"
"You two are hungry."
Greg nodded. "It's been a while. Please."
Anton took out his wallet. "We can pay."
"You're good. I'll order."
"Thank you." He grinned at Greg. "She thinks we're insane."
"We are. Just think if she knew the truth."
He started to chuckle. "Don’t tell her -- she'd never feed us if she knew."
"We can't have that." Greg lapped syrup off the fork.
"God, no. You might try and eat me if we don't get more meat in you."
The smile he got was all teeth and hunger. He purred, thinking that Greg eating him wouldn't
necessarily be a bad thing. Suddenly he could smell his mate, rich, strong, male. He leaned in.
He could feel his eyes glowing.
"Anton." The single word was a rumble.
"Right here." His own voice growled and vibrated in his chest.
Bitten - 62
"I know. The burgers are coming?"
"I sure hope so." He let the question distract him, looking for their waitress.
The burgers came, Greg devouring his. Anton thought -- maybe -- this time Greg tasted it. He ate
his own more slowly, his control over the beast stronger. When Greg had finished, Anton
magnanimously handed over the last quarter of his burger.
"You're sure, Mate?" He could barely understand Greg’s words. He was going to have to get
Greg out soon.
He nodded. "Eat." He waved his credit card at the waitress.
The rest of the burger disappeared, Greg moaning almost orgasmically. It was time to go. Now.
That waitress was taking too damn long. Growling, he went over to the counter. "I need to pay
for our meals."
Greg headed outside, muscles rippling under the T-shirt.
Anton took care of the bill, leaving her a nice tip before following. As he hit the outdoors, he was
reminded that his jeans were still wet. "Man, we need clothes."
"Yes." Greg was shivering, panting, tongue lolling out.
"Maybe we need to explore that field behind the motel, first." He headed back across the road.
He could hear Greg padding behind him. He went faster. "We'll change in the motel. We need
the clothes we have." "Uh-huh." Pant. Pant. Pant.
He hurried along, letting them in and starting on Greg's clothes as soon as the door closed behind
them. Greg stepped in close, nuzzling, panting against him, licking his chin.
He groaned. "Almost there, Mate." He'd have to open the bathroom window for them.
A sharp, sweet yip filled the air, his mate puppyish. Sweet.
He tugged off his own clothes and then went for the bathroom window, opening it wide. "Out we
go, Mate. Out to run."
Greg crouched, nuzzling his cock.
His cock began to fill. "Fuck. Mate."
"Run, Mate. Then fuck. You smell so good."
Bitten - 63
"Go," he growled. His cock got another lick and Greg started to change, his lover crying out, the shift still painful, awkward. He waited until Greg had changed, rubbing a hand through the soft fur before changing himself. Greg bounced, running around him, barking happily. He was still laughing as he shifted. Barking, he leapt for the window and took off.
Bitten - 64
Chapter Twelve
He sat in front of the fire, playing solitaire, humming softly under his breath. Geoffrey was
sleeping and he was too wired for that, too wired for dreaming, so he played cards.
For hours.
Geoffrey shifted, making a small noise, groaning.
Nathan stood, went to see what Geoffrey might need -- water, bathroom, food, pills. "Hey, man.
How're you doing?"
Geoffrey blinked sleepily. "Like I've been in this bed for far too long."
"You have been there a few days." Healing took time.
"I feel stiff. And hungry." Geoffrey struggled to sit up.
He helped Geoffrey get upright, hands stroking down the man's back.
"Mmm..." Geoffrey leaned into the touches, smiling lightly. "Your hands are so warm."
"I'm like a little furnace." Or a big one.
Geoffrey laughed softly at that, poor abused face lighting up for him.
"Come now. I'll help you to the toilet again and then we'll feed you."
"That sounds like a plan."
He smiled and helped Geoffrey up, inhaling the man's scent. Better. Healthier. Good.
Bitten - 65
"Are you smelling me?" Geoffrey asked as they made their way to the bathroom.
"Hmm?" He went for innocent.
Geoffrey shook his head gently. "Never mind, sir."
"No." He nuzzled, rumbling softly. "Nathan."
"I'm sorry... habit."
"It's okay." He didn't want to be Geoff's boss or his 'sir.'
"I'd like to try on my own today," Geoff told him when they got to the bathroom, a little twinkle
in the man's eyes.
"Are you sure?" he teased. "I could hold it for you."
A wave of color rose from Geoff's neck and into his face. "I'm quite sure."
"Okay, okay, no offense meant."
"None taken, s-- Nathan."
"I'll make a couple of sandwiches." He resisted the urge to lean in, take a kiss. Humans were
different. They didn't know pack.
"Oh, that sounds good. Thank you. I won’t be a minute." Geoff gave him a smile and the door
closed between them.
He made two sandwiches -- something simple and filling, but not too heavy. Turkey and Swiss.
Geoff joined him in the little kitchen alcove before he'd finished. "Can I do anything to help?"
"Can you make tea?"
Geoff laughed at that, not a chuckle, but an honest-to-God laugh. "I have been making tea since I
was knee high to a grasshopper, so yes, I can indeed make tea."
"Excellent. That would help. My tea tastes like mud."
Geoff smiled at him and put water in the kettle before searching the cupboards, presumably for
utensils.
"What do you need?" Besides me, of course.
Bitten - 66
"Kettle’s going, so, pot, and either tea bags or tea leaves."
"There's pots next to the stove. The tea bags are... in one of the canisters?" He thought.
The kettle went on the stove, the little tea pot tutted over. "It's very small. I guess we'll just have
to fill it more often." When the tea bags were found, Geoffrey tutted over those as well. "I don't
suppose we'll be going out for supplies any time soon?"
"In a few days, yes. We'll need milk, bread, more meat." They'd have to risk it.
"Fresh tea," Geoffrey added drily. "I think your tea tasting like mud might not be entirely your
fault if this is what you have to work with." Two teabags were dumped into the pot. "That
sandwich, on the other hand, smells wonderful."
"You'll have to make a list." He handed the sandwich over with a grin. The sandwich wasn't what
smelled good. That was Geoff.
Geoff fell on the turkey and Swiss like he hadn't eaten in days. Which, actually, the man hadn't,
not really. It was good to see him with a good appetite; it meant his body was healing, was
searching for energy to do that. Of course when he finally slowed down, about halfway through
the sandwich, Geoff looked a little sheepish as he wiped his mouth. "I apologize, I was just so
hungry."
"I understand hunger." He caught himself rumbling, sniffing the air.
Geoff caught the movement and looked around, eyes wide. "What?"
"Nothing. Nothing. Sorry." He shook himself. No scaring the humans.
Geoff took a step closer to him. "We are safe here, aren't we?"
"Yes. There are traps set, all around the perimeter. No one knows we're here." He reached out,
instinctively needing to comfort.
Geoff stepped closer, into his outstretched arm. "Good. I'm not sure I could do that again."
Nathan pulled Geoff closer, hand running up and down the lean back. "I will protect you. I swear
it."
Geoff nodded, leaning against him. "I believe you. After all, you saved me from that madman's
clutches. I can only imagine what other tortures he would have visited upon me." Geoff
shuddered.
"Shh. I would not have let him. I will kill him before he hurts you again." Poor mate. Poor love.
Bitten - 67
"Thank you, Nathan." Geoff hugged him quickly and then took a step back again. "Let's see how
that kettle is doing."
He nodded, and it occurred to him suddenly that the other alpha, Anton, might have claimed this
one. The thought made his muscles jerk, and he fought his growl.
The kettle began to whistle and Geoff poured the hot water into the teapot. "Mmm... Once I've
had tea, I'll know."
"Know what?"
"That everything's all right." Geoffrey gave him a smile.
"Ah." Brits.
He went to make himself another sandwich, his stomach snapping and snarling under his ribcage.
Geoffrey chuckled. "I know it's a cliché, but there really isn't anything like a good cup of tea.
How do you take yours?"
"With lemon, no milk."
"Excellent."
Geoff fixed two cups, one with lemon, the other plain. The lemon one was passed over,
Geoffrey's fingers sliding against his as he took the mug.
"Mmm." He rumbled softly, pleased. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Geoff took a sip and then sighed. "Oh, yes. I needed this."
"See? Less like mud."
"Indeed." Geoffrey had a few more sips. "Did I see that you had playing cards?"
"I do. Playing cards. Chess. Checkers. Dice." Simple things to pass the time.
"Then let's play."
He blinked, surprised. "What game?"
"How about we start slowly, say with checkers?"
Did that mean what he thought it might mean? He blinked over, feeling a bit like a puppy, like he
could bounce. "Absolutely."
Bitten - 68
Geoff grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Wonderful."
"Why do I feel like I'm getting into trouble?" He smiled, knowing that he couldn't help the
wolfish cast to it.
Geoff laughed. "You're only in trouble when we start betting."
"Strip checkers!" He chuffed happily, leading them into the main room.
Geoff laughed, following him and sitting with a touch of a wicked grin on the bruised face.
There was something about this man. Something wonderful. Something addictive.
Nathan couldn't wait to play.
Bitten - 69
Chapter Thirteen
Greg walked around the shore of the lake, wrapped warmly in his new coat, new boots crunching on the dried-up grass and sand. Anton had taken him shopping -- taken them both for a hundred little things they needed, from clothes to toiletries, kitchen supplies to books. Greg was scared that he'd never feel like he was home again.
Anton joined him halfway to where the sand ended and the rocks started, one arm going around
his shoulders. "You like the place? We've got it 'til spring." Anton grinned wolfishly. "Just the two of us, Mate." "I do." The cabin was cozy, but not in the least cheap. It was classy, rustic, warm. A perfect place to hole up.
Anton bumped their hips together. "Too bad it's too cold to go skinny dipping."
He smiled over, his mood lightening a bit. "It is. Too cold."
"I bet you the wolf doesn't agree." Anton stopped them, pulling him back against the solid chest
and wrapping both arms around him.
"Feels good." It did -- solid and warm and fine.
"Mmmhmm..." Anton buried his nose -- his cold nose -- in Greg's neck and breathed in deeply.
He squeaked and jerked forward, Anton's hands holding him close.
"You smell fantastic up here," murmured Anton. "Not a lot of other scents to distract from you."
Greg found himself relaxing, leaning in. "I could get used to this. It must make you crazed."
Bitten - 70
"Why?"
"Because you loved the parties, the sophisticated shit."
Anton laughed. "I had everyone convinced of that, didn't I?"
"You were living the life, man." Dripping with pearls and everything.
"I was bored and unhappy until you showed up."
"I'm glad I showed up, then."
Anton tilted his head so he was looking into his mate's eyes. "Me, too." Then he was given a
kiss, intense, but slow at the same time.
He caught himself leaning off-balance, trusting that strength to hold him. The kiss grew teeth,
Anton growling into his mouth. Greg forced himself to stay relaxed, to keep the kiss easy. Anton
bit his lip as he broke the kiss, tongue coming out to lap at his mouth.
"Love." He loved how the word made Anton smile, rumble.
"Mate," Anton returned, arms tightening, pulling him closer.
They stood together, watching the water lap at the shore. They breathed, slowly, steadily, the feel
of Anton's heart against his back hypnotic.
After awhile, Anton broke the silence. "Are you hungry?"
"It seems like I'm always hungry now."
"It's the wolf. You remember how I ate when you became my chef."
"I do." He smiled. He'd cooked for Anton for three days. It had been wonderful.
"Well, we've got a fully-equipped kitchen and fresh groceries... come cook for both of us."
"Do you want chicken picatta?" They had lemons, short grain rice.
"Is there a steak appetizer to go with it?" God, Anton was predictable.
"No more steak. Not for a day or two."
"What? Why not?" Anton turned him, frowning.
"It'll get boring."
Bitten - 71
Anton snorted. "It will not."
Greg chuckled, pushed up to lick Anton's chin. "Will, too."
"Not." Stubborn man.
This time he bit, a little. "Too."
Anton growled and leaned down to bite back. "Not. You'll see. Red meat good."
"Mmm. Yes. Red meat very good." He winked, pulled away a little. "As is pasta. Chicken.
Turkey."
"You're a great chef, and all those are good things. But a man needs red meat."
"You know, there are dogs that only eat chicken..." He'd been reading up on it.
"We are not dogs."
"Woof." This was fun.
Anton growled at him, nipping at his jaw. He growled back, just a touch, bouncing a bit. Anton
pounced, pulling him close and taking a kiss that was all teeth. That sudden motion caught his
attention fully and he dove into the kiss, biting back, panting and rumbling playfully. The kiss
went on and on, power moving from him to Anton and back again. The wind started blowing, bringing fascinating scents, making him shudder. "Want you, Mate." Anton's voice just growled, moved through him like the wind. "You always want me. It's--" He chuckled, dancing away, teasing. "Amazing." "And hot." Anton chased him lazily. "Don't forget hot." "Necessary. I like that about it, too. I never thought, when I was playing with so many men, that
I'd want just one." He kept out of Anton's reach.
Anton growled, teeth snapping as he put on speed, the chase more serious now.
He moved, sliding away, teasing. "Now, now. No growling. We've established that you're not
into watching me with other men."
"I don't really want to hear about them, either." Anton looked like he was almost ready to shift
and pounce. "You're mine."
Bitten - 72
"Am I?" He knew it, bone deep. He had for a while now. Still, it didn't hurt Anton to work a bit. Greg bounced in, nuzzled briefly before bouncing away. "You are!" Anton ran for him, serious now, hand grabbing his arm and dragging him in close. "Mine." It was growled, Anton's mouth coming down hard on his. "Stop it." He snarled a little, lip bleeding. "Don't you leave bruises because you're mad." They weren't animals, damn it. "I'm not mad -- I'm proving you're mine." He searched Anton's eyes, and then nodded, seeing the truth in them. "As long as we're playing." Anton tilted his head. "You are mine -- that's not playing." "I know that. I." He blinked over. "The teasing, that's the playing part." "The teasing about other men makes me growl, Greg. I can't help that." Stepping closer, he reached up, stroked Anton's cheeks. "I'm not sure I want you to. It's sexy." Anton nuzzled into his touch, a light growl sounding. "I like when you chase me, Anton. It's exciting as fuck." He leaned in, licked a line up Anton's jaw line so he could whisper into the man's ear. "I love getting caught." A shudder moved through his lover. "I love catching you." Anton grabbed his face, fingers sliding on his goatee, and kissed him hard before letting him go. "I'll give you a count to three head start." "Cool. I'm there." He didn't even wait for one; he simply ran. He vaguely heard Anton counting, and then he heard the roar as his lover began to chase him. Suddenly he wasn't thinking, was just running, pushing himself faster and faster, knowing he was being hunted. He could hear Anton's laughter, the sound wild, happy. That sound had his feet stuttering, only for a moment. His mate. His. Anton's hand brushed his arm, and he could hear his mate's footsteps now. Speeding up, he headed toward the cabin, knowing that was where he wanted to be caught. Anton seemed to know as well, those footsteps loud behind him, but not overtaking him. Not until they'd cleared the door. He headed toward the bedroom, toward a soft surface. Anton obviously had different ideas, his mate pouncing and taking him down in the hall. Grunting, he landed hard on the floor, breath whooshing out of him. Anton lifted long enough to turn him onto his back, and then he was pinned to the ground again.
Bitten - 73
"Anton." He arched, fighting his lover's grip.
"Mate." Anton's mouth took his.
He groaned his "yes" into the kiss, his hips pushing him, demanding contact.
Anton began tugging at his clothes, pushing aside his coat and clawing at his shirt. He went
through more clothes this way. Good thing Anton had money.
He bit Anton's shoulder. "These clothes are new."
Anton growled at the bite, but didn't look upset about it. "I haven't ripped them. Yet."
"Good. Don't. I like them." He bit again.
"Then help me deal with these stupid buttons." Anton growled again, frustration in the sound this
time as his fingers failed to deal with the little plastic closures.
"Okay. Hold on." He worked them open, fingers moving quickly, easily.
Anton pounced as soon as his skin was bared, fingers and lips licking and stroking. He spread
wide, letting Anton have him. He'd been caught, now it was time to enjoy it. Anton's mouth
found his right nipple, teeth worrying at it before the hot tongue soothed it. "Mmm. Yours." He arched, hips rubbing idly.
"Yes. Mine." Anton raked his fingers down along Greg's belly, going to tug at the waistband of
his jeans. "Off."
He popped the top button, wiggling and shoving at the denim. Anton shifted downward, fingers
wrapping around the waistband and dragging the jeans off his hips.
"You. You're pretty good at that." Fuck, the floor was cold.
Anton gave him a wink. "I'm motivated."
He could learn to like being motivation.
Stinging bites followed his jeans down, peppering his thighs with little bites.
"Toothy bastard." He shifted, moving away as the bites got deeper.
"Comes with the territory." Anton grabbed onto his thighs, pushing them down against the floor,
teeth sinking into one inner thigh.
Bitten - 74
"Ow!" Fuck, yes. Hurt. He spread, hands reaching down to soothe the ache away.
Anton's hand slapped his away. "Mine." The next bite was just below the first.
"Stings." He tried to jerk away, so hard he burned.
"Uh-huh." A low growl preceded the next bite, this one on his other leg. "Supposed to."
"Fuck." He spun, scrabbling a little, caught between turned on and freaked out.
Anton's lips fastened onto his ass, sucking.
His cock jerked, and he whimpered, stopping and bracing himself for more. "Need you. God,
Anton."
"Mate. Mine." Anton spread his cheeks, the next biting kiss landing right on his hole.
"Anton!" This time he yelped, his entire body vibrating, shocked. Desperate.
Anton's tongue pushed into him, fucking him. He rocked back, pushing himself on that tongue,
toes curling with pleasure. Anton kept tongue-fucking him, fingers digging into his ass.
"Anton. Anton, please." He wasn't sure if that was don't stop or please, stop.
One hand slid down, cupped his balls, and then tugged on them.
Oh. Oh, fuck. "Yes."
Anton's pleased growl vibrated from his ass down into his balls and up along his spine. He
arched, rumbling softly, every nerve in his body seeming to fire at once. Anton did something with his tongue, wriggling it and twisting it inside him. Greg grunted, scooted forward on the wood floor. Anton grabbed his thighs and pulled him back onto that insane-making tongue. "Making me crazy."
"Good." Anton bit at his ass cheek.
"Is not."
"Is so," growled Anton. "I'll prove it." With that, Anton's prick pressed against his hole.
"Anton!" That heavy cock pushed the word out of him in a rush, his throat working.
Anton's fingers wrapped around his hips, thumbs digging into his ass as his mate began to pound
into him. He opened, his body eager, the burn pleasurable and deep. He could hear his claws scrabbling on the floor, hear how his moans slid up into whines and little yelps.
Bitten - 75
Anton growled, the sounds forming words repeated with every thrust. "Mate. Mine. Love."
He chuckled, somewhere deep inside him. Hell, he'd been Anton's for months.
Anton's fat prick spread him wide, seeming to go deeper with each thrust. Then Anton changed
position and banged his gland. Howls filled the air, the room seeming to disappear under a flash of pure pleasure. Anton grabbed his prick, mouth landing on his shoulder. The sharp teeth bit as Anton squeezed him tight. "Damn." His chin dipped before he could stop it, exposing the back of his neck, the deep wound
there shaped like Anton's mouth.
"Mate!" Anton cried out, cock pulsing and filling him with heat.
He jerked frantically, pushing between hand and cock, trying to get off, to come.
"Come," growled Anton.
"I'm trying. I'm fucking trying." He was so excited he was caught up.
Anton's cock slid out of him, Anton pushing beneath him and wrapping hot lips around his cock.
He screamed, hips pumping, driving into that hot mouth. Yes. Yes. God, yes. Anton's throat
closed over the head of his cock as his mate swallowed.
Spunk poured out of him, Greg coming with every fiber of his being. Anton swallowed him down, hums vibrating along his prick. Whimpering softly, he managed to hold himself up, muscles trembling. That hot mouth slid away, Anton shifting along the floor beneath him until they were face to face. "Mmmmate." The word was a happy growl.
"Uh-huh." Anton's arms went around him, tugging him down and taking a sloppy kiss.
He chuffed softly, tongue pushing into Anton's lips. Anton's mouth opened, welcoming him in,
the low rumble vibrating Anton's chest. His fingers pushed into that heavy, amazing pelt of hair,
tangling in. Anton's arms held him close, one hand sliding down to grab his ass and squeeze. His mate. His. His hips shifted, almost wagging with pleasure. Anton laughed, biting at his lips, his chin, little stinging nips that didn't break the skin. "Mate." He growled softly, melting.
Anton pulled back to smile into his eyes. "Yours. Forever."
"Yes." Now that they had that worked out, they could get back to living.
Bitten - 76
Chapter Fourteen
Jackson walked carefully along the path, such as it was. The ground was slick; it had been raining daily and then freezing overnight. There would be snow soon. He had to admit, now that his aches and pains were fading, he was rather enjoying his enforced vacation. The cabin was small, but it was warm and cozy, with a lovely fireplace. There was plenty to eat; Nathan had turned out to be a decent cook. Oh, not as good as Greg was, but the food was always good, hearty and flavorful. They had plenty of games to play, and if Jackson wasn't mistaken, Nathan was flirting with him. It had been quite a long time since anyone had, and God knew he wasn't a young man anymore, but Nathan was definitely stroking his ego. He came up on the cabin, Nathan in the little clearing beside the house chopping wood. The man really was something else. Jackson found himself staring. Nathan was shirtless, red hair lying against the broad shoulders. Tanned and muscled -- Nathan was much too masculine to be traditionally beautiful, but he was quite... arousing. It had been a long time since Jackson had indulged in attraction like this. Oh, he was human enough, he'd spent the occasional night in a discreet liaison, but usually he made do with his own hand. He had a reputation, a boss' reputation as well, to think of. But here... well, there was only himself and Nathan, wasn't there? He didn't have to be the consummate gentleman's man here. He kept watching. Nathan was whistling, thighs parted, ass pushing back with each swing. Jackson felt his breath catch in his throat, his cock hardening. Nathan stopped, sniffed, turned toward him. Smiled. "Geoff."
Bitten - 77
He shivered at the sound of his given name. "Hello, Nathan."
"Hello." The smile he received was hungry, happy, exciting.
He couldn't help but smile back, take steps toward Nathan. "You look hot. I mean, that looks like
hot work."
"It is. It's good work. I like to use my body."
"Yes, I can see that." He had to stop himself from reaching out and touching.
Those nostrils flared, Nathan preening a bit. "I'm glad."
"Really? You're glad this old man can see you're... well-built?"
"Old?" Nathan put the axe down, turning toward him, almost bouncing. "Where?"
"You're looking at him."
"No. You're not old."
Jackson reached out, patting Nathan's arm. "My birth certificate would disagree."
Nathan leaned in, scenting him, nuzzling him. "Hmm?"
"Nathan!" He was shocked! He was hard, too, his cock pushing at the zipper of his trousers.
"Sorry." Nathan pinked, head ducking as the man stepped away. "Sorry, Geoff."
He swallowed, feeling badly for having made Nathan feel embarrassed. "No, I'm sorry. I. You
surprised me."
"I didn't mean to. You smell so good, and..." He got a toothy grin, the man looking like a huge puppy. "I couldn't resist." "I smell like Ivory soap." He couldn't help but smile back, though, and he found himself taking another step forward and reaching again to pat Nathan. He'd been aiming for the man's arm, truly he had, but somehow he was patting an impressive pectoral instead. The soft happy rumble vibrated his hand, Nathan's nipple going hard from the simple touch. His hand froze and he was quite unsure what to do. Flirting was one thing, but this touching was quite another, even if the touching had started out innocently enough. As he watched his hand continue to pat at the strong muscles, a part of his brain wondered just how innocently his touch had been meant.
Bitten - 78
The rest of him was merely cataloguing the heat and texture of Nathan's chest. Covered in a fine mat of soft, red curls, the tanned skin responded to his touch, the muscles underneath jerking and twitching. He licked his lips, his cock aching within his trousers. Time seemed to freeze, right here, at this moment. And then suddenly Jackson was aware of what he was doing, and he jerked his hand back. "I... sorry!" He turned and fled back toward the cabin door, his cheeks flaming. "Mate." He heard the soft sound of footsteps behind him seconds before strong arms wrapped around him. "Please." Nathan's cock was a brand against his ass. "You want me?" It shouldn't have been a question, and it wasn't, really, except that he needed to hear it, to know. "I want." Nathan's lips brushed his ear, just barely. He groaned, giving in and melting back against Nathan. "Why?" He couldn't help asking; Nathan was a stud, virile and strong, he had to have a ton of offers. "You're so strong and you smell like my own." One of Nathan's hands dropped down, cupped his balls. "Your own?" His words were lost to a groan as his cock jerked at the touch, his balls beginning to draw up against his body. "My own. So good..." Nathan was rumbling softly, fingers moving, driving him crazy. He let everything go but the touches and the hot, solid body behind him. There was no one here but Nathan and himself -- he could do as he wanted. And right now he wanted more. Tilting his head back, he offered Nathan a kiss. The eager little sound he got made his head spin, Nathan's lips pressing down upon his with need. He couldn't remember anyone ever wanting a kiss from him this much, and it sent his arousal soaring until his own prick was as hard as the one pressing against his ass. His lips moved beneath Nathan's, parting to let the man in. The kiss was clumsy, untried, and incredibly dear, Nathan shivering behind him. Moaning softly, he reached up to cup Nathan's cheek, fingers stroking. Nathan turned him, drew him into the heavy curve of his body, cradled him. Nathan's skin was so warm, and the man so strong, but Nathan held him carefully, as if he were precious. Moaning, he pressed closer, tongue sliding over Nathan's lips.
Bitten - 79
The air blew around them, chill and cold, the hint of snow in the air. Nathan kept him warm, though, and he lost himself in the kiss. Soft, happy little sounds pushed into his lips, Nathan's arms sliding up and down his back, petting him. "We should go inside." It was far too cold out to undress and he desperately wanted more skin
between them than there was.
"We should. I could build the fire so that you're warm."
"I'm pretty warm already," he admitted.
"We'll be warmer inside." The door opened, the charming, comfortable cabin waiting for them.
"And more comfortable. There's the bed..."
Nathan moaned, rubbed against him. "Yes. Yes, a bed."
They stumbled toward the bed, and he held onto Nathan, not wanting this to stop, to end. Those
hands never seemed to stop moving, stroking and petting him. Once they were by the bed, he slid
his own hands over Nathan's chest, fingers finding the hard little nipples, teasing them.
Nathan gasped, hips bucking, the look on that square face surprised.
"Has no one ever played with your nipples before?" He pinched one between his fingers.
"No. No, I have been... careful choosing who I take pleasure with."
"I guess that makes me lucky." Smiling, he leaned in, tongue flicking at the hard flesh.
"Geoff!" He could get quite used to his name growled in that tone of voice.
"You like that," he teased, doing it again.
"Yes. Yes, Mate. I like that."
"I hope I'm more than a friend," he murmured softly, fingers catching on the hairs on Nathan's
chest. Though if mates were all Nathan could offer...
"More. My pack. My Mate." Nathan nuzzled in, tongue licking his throat.
"Oh, my." That kind of mates. Jackson swallowed, and then moaned, tilting his head back.
Nathan's happy little sounds echoed inside him, vibrating him bone deep. He began to work on
his shirt, the buttons like puzzles to his eager fingers. It didn't seem to bother Nathan. The man seemed to be focused on exploring every inch of him.
Bitten - 80
"It's better if we're both topless," he pointed out, rather breathlessly.
"More skin." Nathan nodded, big fingers tugging at his shirt.
The last few buttons might have popped off, but he didn't care, he wanted that touch on his skin.
Nathan's lips trailed down over his chest, mouth open and moving over his skin. He wrapped his
fingers in Nathan's hair, a low keening sound coming from him. It felt amazing.
He had never had a lover so focused on him, on his skin, on exploring him.
"Nathan. Oh, yes. Please." He could feel each touch through his whole body.
"Mate. Are you well? Well enough?"
He nodded eagerly. "I'm fine, Nathan. Don't stop." Please don't stop.
"I don't want to." Nathan rumbled, nuzzling under his arm, scenting him.
God, that was... surprisingly sexy.
Nathan's hands moved over his body, stripping him, petting him. He worked Nathan's jeans
open, gasping softly as the thick cock pushed out into his hands.
"It's okay?" Nathan asked. Like that amazing, heavy length of flesh could be anything but.
He shook his head. "It's so much better than okay." He slid his hand up and down the length.
God, it was so hot.
Nathan bucked, hips rolling into his touch, the low growl filling the air.
"Oh, God." Nathan was so sexy, so strong. He stroked harder.
"Mate." Those eyes were light and lovely, quite fascinating.
He kissed Nathan's lips, shutting him up. His hand worked the thick cock. He wanted to see what
coming did to Nathan's eyes. The little whimpers and moans that filled the air excited him
unbearably, made him shudder and stare into softly glowing eyes.
"What do you like?" he asked, feeling the sudden urge to drop to his knees and take Nathan in.
"You."
"Oh." He slid his hand along Nathan's cheek and then dropped slowly to his knees.
Nathan's big hand cupped his jaw. "You smell like joy."
Bitten - 81
He nuzzled Nathan's hand, something very warm blooming inside him. Smiling, he licked at the tip of Nathan's cock. Oh. Nathan tasted wild, untamed, raw, the slit damp, salty. He wrapped his lips around the tip of Nathan's cock, tongue pressing, searching for more of the fascinating flavor. The heavily-muscled legs spread, the strong musk of the man heady, filling his nose. He increased his suction, head going slowly down about halfway; he was out of practice. Nathan was exceedingly careful with him, hips barely moving. He wrapped his hand around the base of Nathan's cock, his other hand finding the man's heavy balls, rolling them. Moaning low, Nathan reached down for him; one large hand stroked his head, his hair. He nuzzled that hand and then began to bob his head, up and down, lips sliding on the hard, hot head. "So good." The words were bare groans, Nathan's breath huffing out of him.
He sucked harder, pulling the flavor of the man into himself.
"Please. I'll blow." The words were almost ashamed.
He pulled off and looked up at Nathan. "That's the idea."
"I want -- I want to last for you."
"Oh. I... oh." He smiled, fingers moving slowly on Nathan's prick. "Okay."
He let go slowly and climbed up onto the mattress. "Come to bed, then."
"Yes." Nathan pounced, face sliding over his hip.
He shivered, fingers moving to slide through Nathan's hair. He was eased onto one side, Nathan
working his jeans open, mouth open, hot against his belly. He hadn't been touched like this in a
long time and he reveled in the heat, the care.
Then his fly was opened and that hungry mouth moved over his cock, his balls, Nathan breathing
in deep. He shifted his legs restlessly, wanting, needing. His underwear was stripped away,
leaving him bare, and his cock was licked, mouthed, nuzzled and moaned over. He grabbed at
Nathan's hair, fingers curling to hold Nathan's head.
"Smell good. Mate. I need you." Nathan licked and lapped, driving him mad.
"Right here. Want you, Nathan." He spread his legs, feeling wanton and not caring.
"You're beautiful." His balls were laved, then one was eased into that hungry mouth.
Bitten - 82
"Nathan!" He jerked, fingers yanking at Nathan's hair.
The suction increased, pulling at the pit of his belly. He thrashed, hips jerking as he got so close.
Nathan groaned, sucking harder, moaning around his skin.
"Oh, please. Soon!" He was ready.
It was only a second before Nathan pulled back, heated mouth slamming over his prick.
"Nathan!" He cried out, body bucking as he came, pouring down Nathan's throat.
Nathan swallowed over and over, bright eyes sparkling. He collapsed onto the bed, petting
Nathan as he tried to catch his breath again.
"Mine. So sweet. Mine."
He chuckled softly. "What do you need, Nathan?" Nathan's hand was around that beautiful prick,
moving slowly, base to tip in slow arcs. Jackson reached down and wrapped his own hand around Nathan's. "Do you want me to use my mouth? Or do you want to have me?" He didn't do that often, it was too intimate for one night stands, but Nathan, Nathan was different. And not just because Jackson owed the man his life. "I would hurt you. I would never want to hurt you." Nathan moaned, pushed into his touch.
"Your hands..."
"I'm sure you wouldn't hurt me." He kept working his hand along with Nathan's, though.
"Please." Nathan's hips pushed harder, faster, fucking his hand.
He reached for one of Nathan's nipples with his other hand, tweaking the little bit of flesh as he
squeezed tight around the thick cock. Nathan's eyes flew open, and seed poured over his hand.
Jackson moaned at the scent, the strong, spicy, male scent of Nathan's come. He couldn't stop
himself from bringing his hand up and licking; he needed a taste.
"Geoff." Nathan's tongue slipped up along his jaw.
He shivered. "I like that." He so rarely heard his given name, and the way Nathan said it...
"I do, too." Nathan rumbled happily, wrapping around him like a huge, soft blanket.
He hadn't meant to go to sleep, but lying there, sated and warm, and feeling so very cared for and
safe, his body let go and he felt himself drifting off.
***
Bitten - 83
His mate slept hard and Nathan rested with him before going to check the perimeter, bring the wood in, inventory supplies. He knew how to do this part; he'd been trained to be a guard since he was a pup. Some hours later, Geoff stirred, making a soft noise as he shifted.
Nathan peeked in, making sure the blankets were right, the room was warm enough. His mate.
His. Nathan rolled his eyes at himself. The moon must be filling, the way his brain was reverting
to clicks and growls.
Geoff's eyes opened, finding him almost immediately, smiling softly. "Hello."
"Good evening." He stepped forward, fascinated, hungry. Happy.
Geoff reached a hand up for him, looking as happy as he felt. He stepped close, fingers sliding
on Geoff's.
"Come back to bed?" Geoff asked, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.
"Yes." Nathan shrugged off his flannel, his boots, then leaned to lick at Geoff's throat, unable to
wait any longer.
Geoff gasped softly, head going back, offering him more of the musky-scented skin. Fascinating.
The man smelled like home, like running, like comfort and strength and peace. Sweet noises
filled the air as Geoff moaned and murmured beneath the licks of his tongue.
"You feel better." He could smell it.
"Mmm... I do. I feel very good right at the moment."
He chuffed with the pure joy of it.
"That's a lovely sound." Geoff's hands trailed through his hair, fingers sliding.
He felt his cheeks heat, unbearably pleased by the praise.
"Kiss me?" whispered Geoff.
"I'd love to." Nathan smiled, turning his head to take a fierce kiss.
He could feel Geoff's gasp inside his mouth, his mate's lips parting to let him in. He hummed,
dragging Geoff closer. Geoff didn't seem to have any objections. If anything, the man pushed
even closer, arms going around his shoulders.
His cock filled and his hips started rolling.
Bitten - 84
"I don't think I'll... oh!" Geoff's eyes went wide as his cock began to fill, too, rising to meet
Nathan's.
"Don't think what?" He loved the sound of Geoff's voice, surprised and needy.
"I didn't think I could get hard again already. You make me need like nothing else."
"Good." He growled a bit, happy deep down.
"That sound is..." Geoff blushed a little, and brought their mouths together for a kiss.
His hands explored, running up and down, searching every inch he could reach. His mate. Sweet,
needy little moans filled his mouth, Geoff kissing him eagerly, body pushing into each touch. He
smiled happily; Geoff was lovely.
The slender limbs had a surprising strength behind them, beneath the skin that was so good to
touch. Geoff made him feel like a puppy, made him gasp and want to wag.
"You smell good." Geoff laughed after saying it, fingers working his sweater up.
"I should. You cannot be mates if the smells are wrong."
There was more laughter. "Mates. You hardly know me, Nathan."
He ducked his head, hiding in Geoff's throat. He didn't have to know more, but humans were
different.
Geoff's fingers slid through his curls, petting and stroking him. "Still, you smell good. Very
good."
Nathan nodded, focusing on Geoff's pleasure. Geoff groaned for him, pushing into every touch.
His mate was naked, so he headed for the growing cock, his own aching within his jeans. Geoff
moaned, fingers still tangled in his hair. He reached Geoff's cock, settling between the spread
legs to lick and nuzzle.
"Nathan." Geoff's legs spread wider for him.
"Mmm." He sucked Geoff in, growling at the flavor. So good.
"Wait." Geoff tugged on his hair. "Nathan."
"Hmm?" He hummed around Geoff's flesh.
"Turn around. So it can be mutual."
Bitten - 85
He wasn't sure about that. He was large and he wasn't sure he could be careful. And what if
Geoff didn't want to be mates after and...
Stop it.
Stop it, he wasn't a puppy.
Geoff kept tugging, looking expectantly at him.
"I -- I'm big." He didn't want Geoff to hurt.
"Did I not do a good job sucking you earlier?"
"What?" He blinked up. "It was better than hunting, better than running."
Geoff laughed softly. "Then come on, Nathan. I'm not a selfish man."
He moved, nervous and unsure, but wanting, so badly.
Geoff's hands helped him as he turned, warm and sweet as they stroked his skin. "That's better."
Then Geoff licked at the tip of his cock.
He groaned, lips pushing down around Geoff's prick. Geoff gasped and then wrapped his lips
around Nathan's cock. Each movement he made, Geoff imitated. He slowed, moaning as Geoff
slowed. Then sped. Geoff was making noises around his cock, sending vibrations along the flesh.
His eyes rolled in his head, his growls bubbling out of him.
Geoff began to take more and more of him in, more than he would have thought possible. The
pleasure was huge and he threw his head back, howling with his sudden desperation. Geoff
sucked harder, tongue slapping at the tip of his prick.
His body rippled, everything in him needing. One of Geoff's hands pushed between his legs,
rubbing his inner thighs.
"Yes." He nuzzled Geoff's cock, open-mouthed, unable to focus.
Geoff’s fingers slid up to cup his balls, his mate's suction increasing. Nathan let himself feel,
deep sounds rumbling out of him as he jerked and moaned. When Geoff tugged his balls, the
ache made him shudder, arch. Salt and pepper hair teased at the skin of his belly as Geoff's head
bobbed.
"I. I will... I need to." Please.
The suction got stronger at his words, Geoff's fingers rolling his balls. His cock swelled,
throbbing, and he roared as he came. Geoff swallowed around his cock, drinking him down.
Slumping happily, he blinked, his belly aching.
Bitten - 86
Geoff continued to lick him, clean him. It was only when Geoff's mouth came off his cock that
he realized his mate's need was still strong, hard cock all but nudging his cheek.
Happy and humming, he turned, sucked Geoff in, swallowing hard.
"Nathan!" Geoff sounded needy, like the man needed him.
The heavy cock swelled between his lips and he licked and sucked, trying to draw out Geoff's
seed, Geoff's flavor. A single drop landed on his tongue, sharp and bitter.
Mate.
His finger slid behind, pushing into Geoff's body. Geoff jerked, hips beginning to saw, to push
between his mouth and his finger. Yes. Yes, good. He pushed harder, eyes fluttering closed. He
heard his name whispered with every thrust into his mouth.
And Geoff said they did not know each other. Bullshit. He smiled, took Geoff down to the root.
"Nathan!" Geoff shouted his name this time, seed pouring down his throat.
The flavor filled him, made him moan and grunt as he drank his mate down. A couple more
sweet pulses filled his mouth as his swallows drew out shudders from Geoff, and then his mate
stilled, a soft, satisfied sigh sounding.
Nathan took his time licking and cleaning Geoff's cock, scenting and learning the heavy rope of
flesh. Geoff nuzzled into his own crotch, cheek rubbing against his prick, a light stubble rough
on his skin.
"Mmm." The sounds he made surprised him, were brand new to him.
"That was a most pleasant way to wake up, Nathan." Geoff laughed softly, the sound tickling his
ears. "I could get used to it."
Good. Yes. Good. He nodded, tickled. "I could, too."
"Flip again? I'd like a kiss."
"Yes." He moved, curling around Geoff in a happy pounce.
Geoff's laughter filled his mouth as they kissed. Better. His mate seemed much better.
"I don't suppose you'd like to share a cup or two of tea with me?"
"I would love that. Your tea tastes good."
Bitten - 87
Geoff beamed at him. "That's because I know how to brew it properly. You'd be surprised what a
lost art that is."
"I would. I haven't met many people who enjoyed tea like you do."
"Now I know you've never been to England." Geoff's eyes twinkled, just about the time his
stomach rumbled. "I shall have to make crumpets and jam tarts to go with our afternoon
libations."
"There's roast in the slow cooker." He knew how to do that.
"Excellent! I can make Yorkshire puddings. Do we have potatoes to go with the roast? And
carrots are nice. Veg is important, you know."
"We have potatoes, celery, carrots." He tilted his head, chuffing softly. "I grill, mostly."
"Let me guess -- steak?" Geoff's voice was dry.
"Chicken. I love chicken."
"How refreshing."
"Do you not like beef?"
Geoff chuckled. "I do, but my employer is overly fond."
"I like beef, but chicken is my favorite."
"Greg's going to like you." Geoff sobered suddenly. "Anton and Greg, are they truly all right?"
"Lars’ pack thinks they're dead, so yes. For now. The alpha will need to make a stand or he'll
lose his territory, but we needed to move you out of danger."
"I'm still not sure why I was taken."
"Lars wanted to trade you -- you for the territory. Anton's territory is wealthy, good-sized. He
doesn't have to work for it, and his pack takes care of itself." His own territory was small, sparse;
no one wanted it but him.
Geoff snorted. "And he thought Anton would trade it for me?"
"Yes." Geoff was important to Anton, held a high position in Anton's pack.
"That's crazy. But then, so is Lars. I'm so glad you got me out of there, Nathan. I don't even want
to think about what was coming next." Geoff shivered.
Bitten - 88
"No. No, don't think about that. I would not let them have you."
Swallowing, Geoff nodded and pushed close.
"Shh. I have you." He curled around Geoff, rumbling low.
Geoff nodded. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I do know I'm fine and it didn't happen."
He kept petting, stroking. Loving. It didn't take long before Geoff relaxed, leaning against him.
He rumbled softly, nodded. "Better."
"Yes. Sorry, it just hit me again. It's kind of unbelievable that only a short while ago I was being
tortured, and now here I am." Geoff's fingers stroked over his chest. "Most definitely not being
tortured."
"No. Never. I would never hurt you."
Never.
Geoff patted him some more. "No, somehow I don't believe you ever would."
Bitten - 89
Chapter Fifteen
Jackson glanced out the window and jumped up, going over to take a closer look. It was
snowing! Big, beautiful flakes that settled quietly, blanketing the ground.
"Nathan! Come look!"
"Coming." Nathan moved silently, hands sliding around his waist.
He almost gasped, still unaccustomed to the easy touches. He liked it, though. He could get used
to this. He leaned back against Nathan's solid chest. "Look at the snow."
"Oh, I'm glad I re-supplied us yesterday." Nathan's fingers slipped down, brushing his cock, his
hips.
He groaned, rubbing his ass against Nathan. "We should go for a walk in it while it's still those
lovely big flakes."
"If you'd like," Nathan growled softly, nuzzling the back of his neck. "The full moon is coming."
"So it's true? You're like Anton? And when the full moon comes..."
"Yes. I'll change."
He turned, wanting to see Nathan's eyes. "Will you be dangerous?"
"To you? No. No, you're my mate. I'll be fuzzy."
Still with this mate business. Jackson was beginning to get used to it. "Can I see? I mean now."
"Would you like to? Really?"
Bitten - 90
Jackson nodded. "Yes. Yes, I would."
Nathan nodded and stepped back, stripping quickly, with none of the nervous worry that Anton
always showed. It happened quickly, Nathan crouching, muscles rippling as hair sprung up all
over the strong body. Nathan groaned once, as the man's nose and mouth became a muzzle.
The wolf Nathan became was stocky and solid, with the most beautiful russet fur.
"Oh..." Jackson reached out.
Nathan stepped forward, tongue lolling. He tentatively touched Nathan's head, the fur so soft.
"Soft." He rubbed a little harder. The soft muzzle rubbed his fingers, then his hip.
Jackson dropped down to his knees, running his hands through the soft fur. He chuckled softly.
"So very soft." He had never, ever patted Anton like this.
A soft mooing sound filled the air, Nathan's chin landing on his shoulder.
"You're beautiful, Nathan. Truly." He rubbed his cheek along Nathan's muzzle.
The heavy tail wagged, thumping on the floor. This was so different from Anton's fury, his pain.
He chuckled and kept petting; touching Nathan like this felt like a gift. Nathan flopped down on
the ground, offering him a soft, pale belly.
Sitting right down next to the wolf, Jackson really got into the patting, taking his time and
rubbing the soft underbelly. "Such a beautiful wolf, Nathan. So soft."
Nathan chuffed softly, stretching under his touch, lovely eyes shining for him. Jackson laid his head down on Nathan's belly, rubbing his cheek against the silky fur. One heavy paw landed on his arm, the pads warm, leathery. They lay there together, just breathing together for awhile, before Jackson sat up, patting again. "Would you like to go for a walk in the snow?" Nathan hopped up, padded to the door, nudging it with his nose.
"Okay, just a minute. I don't have a lovely fur coat like you do." He grabbed his coat from the
hooks and pushed his feet into his boots before opening the door.
Nathan bounded out, nose and tail up, panting as he scented the air. Jackson watched, utterly fascinated. He pulled the door closed and followed Nathan down a path into the forest, the big snowflakes falling silently.
Bitten - 91
It was like walking with a huge puppy, Nathan ran ahead, returned, nuzzled, bounded forward again. He laughed every time Nathan came back to lick and nuzzle him. He'd never had a dog, and it was fun watching Nathan play. Sharp little yips sounded, Nathan's nose to the ground, butt in the air.
"What did you find?" He chased after Nathan, following the paw prints in the snow.
Nathan hunted happily, flushing out a barn cat and barking at it, chasing it off. It was like magic,
with the snow falling everywhere and Nathan's happy puppy bouncing around, always coming
back to him.
He didn't realize it was getting late until it was fairly dark, only the moonlight on the snow
brightening the path. "We'd better go back, Nathan."
Nathan nodded, huffing softly, cold nose pushing into his palm.
He rubbed Nathan's muzzle and shivered. "It's getting cold."
They headed in, both of them moving quickly, sliding through the heavy snowflakes. Nathan was
much faster, and Jackson was beginning to lose his breath as they drew nearer to the cabin. Nathan came around him, nudging him gently, growling playfully. "I'm coming, I'm coming. We walked a little farther than maybe we should have. Well, you ran."
He'd taken a few steps when a very strong, very naked man pressed against his side. "I'm sorry,
Mate."
"Nathan! You're naked!" He took Nathan's hand and hurried him the rest of the way to the cabin.
"And it's my own fault for not paying attention."
"It was good, walking with you." Nathan pressed closer to him.
He let the door close and pressed against Nathan's warmth. "Yes. It was."
Those eyes were still like a pup's, warm and eager.
"Are you cold?" He ran his hands over all Nathan's big muscles; he'd been touching Nathan, only
furry, not that long ago.
"Yes, a bit." Nathan didn't look worried about it.
"I could help you get warm again." Look at him flirting; no, coming on to Nathan.
Nathan leaned in, nuzzling his jaw. "I would like that."
Bitten - 92
"I do believe one of us is overdressed, though."
"Do you?" His coat was shoved off, hands sliding over his arms.
Jackson’s breath hitched, his mouth opening. "Yes."
"Good." He thought, perhaps, Nathan had forgotten what they were talking about.
Smiling, he took Nathan's hands and brought them to the waistband of his sweater. Nathan's
fingers were icy cold, the touch on his belly shocking for a second. He gasped and then covered Nathan's hand, pressing it against his skin to warm it. "You're warm." A cold nose pressed against his jaw.
"I'll warm you up." He leaned in and pressed their lips together. The taste of Nathan's lips was
perfect -- male and sharp, flavored with the wind and the snow from their walk.
He guided Nathan's hands to slide his shirt and sweater up and over his head so he could press
their chests together.
"So fine." Nathan's fingers explored his back, rubbing deep.
"I'm glad you think so." It didn't matter if anyone else did, because Nathan did.
"I do. You fascinate me." Lips brushed his temple, his hairline.
Groaning, he tilted his head back, giving Nathan more skin to kiss. His hands found Nathan's
hips, fingers wrapping around them. His ear was nibbled, the lobe tugged on gently. His prick
responded to each touch, filling right up.
Leaning forward, he licked at one of Nathan's nipples. The bit of flesh tightened for him, pink nubs hardening, begging for attention. It made him moan, and he leaned forward, lips closing around the sensitive flesh. "Geoff." The shocked little sound made him feel like a bit of a god. No one had ever responded to him the way Nathan did. It was heady, arousing. He sucked harder
on Nathan's flesh.
"Mate. More. More, please."
He moved to the other nipple, tongue flicking across it a few times before he closed his mouth
around it like he had the first. This time he let his teeth tease the nipple, rolling it gently as the sensation earned him more little happy sounds.
Bitten - 93
Nathan was so sensual it was intoxicating, and it made everything better, more intense. As he indulged himself, Nathan worked his pants open and down, fingers stroking his hips. He hummed happily, Nathan's fingers warm now, leaving trails of heat along his skin. They walked back to the sofa, Jackson kicking his slacks and boots away so that he could stretch out along Nathan's body. Moaning, he rubbed their bodies together, the hair on Nathan's legs and chest a little rough. It felt good. "Geoff." Nathan spread for him and cradled him between those legs. "Do you want me?" It had been a long time since he'd made the offer, but he wanted Nathan like
that.
"I do, but... I don't want to hurt you."
What had happened to Nathan, that the man was so worried? He stroked Nathan's cheeks. "What
makes you think you'll hurt me?"
"I'm too big." Those cheeks heated and he was struck again by the unexpected youth in Nathan's
eyes.
"Well, some men appreciate size. And you are well endowed, but certainly not outrageously so."
He slid his hand down to wrap it around the endowment in question. "Who told you that you
were too big?"
"I had a lover. We were together for a long time, until we tried to make love. He left."
Jackson blinked. "Really?"
"Yes. He found another one of our kind."
"Did you... prepare him before doing it?"
"I did. I'd let him in, too, so I knew how." Nathan's eyes met his, the look odd. "I'm not an alpha.
I don't mind being taken."
"I don't have distinctions like that, but I like... receiving." He had to admit that he was fighting very hard not to become prim and proper as they discussed the matter. "Do you like fucking, too?" Nathan's hand started moving over him, petting him.
Nathan's touches eased his embarrassment. "I haven't done it in a long time, but I enjoyed it. Not
as much as receiving."
"Your ass is sensitive." Such a fascinating mixture of blunt and shy. Nathan's hands moved as he spoke, brushing over his hole.
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Jackson gasped, ass cheeks clenching before releasing again, letting Nathan have access. "It is."
"Is this okay? Is it good?"
"Yes. Please, Nathan. I'd like you to make love to me." He didn't want to call it fucking, not what
he and Nathan were doing.
"Maybe. Maybe I should just touch you first." The caresses came more and more often, Nathan
stroking his hole.
He shivered at the caresses. "All -- all right." It felt so good.
"I like the way you smell." That touch came again, so gentle, so simple. It was the most erotic
thing he'd ever felt.
"You smell good, too." Nathan did: earthy and musky.
A pleased, low sound rumbled across his skin. He brought his lips to Nathan's, enjoying a long,
slow kiss. That touch continued, Nathan's hand moving in time with the kiss. He shifted his legs
restlessly, beginning to need more.
"What do you want?"
"More. Please."
"Yes, Mate." Nathan slid down, kissing his chest, his belly.
They shifted, Nathan moving him to lie down on the couch. Groaning, he spread wide. The
kisses went on and on, Nathan nuzzling his way down to lap and lick at the drops escaping
Geoff's prick. It felt so good, and Geoff bucked, trying to push into Nathan's mouth.
Nathan didn't stop there, though; he kept moving, kissing and breathing on him.
Jackson shivered, legs moving restlessly. "Nathan."
"Yes, Geoff." That tongue slid over his balls.
His hands moved through Nathan's curls, the hair clinging to his fingers. The soft, puffing huffs
of air pushed over his hole, Nathan's tongue sliding over his skin as those hands parted his
thighs.
"Nathan!" He gasped, letting his legs spread, letting Nathan guide them apart.
"Please." God, he wanted more.
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"Yes." That tongue slid over his hole.
He shuddered, the pleasure shooting up his spine. The touch came again and again, Nathan
licking him endlessly. Whimpering, he reached for his cock, wrapping his fingers around it. As
he tugged his cock, Nathan's tongue pushed into his body, piercing him. He gasped and stroked
faster, pulling himself off. Nathan's hand joined his, tugging carefully.
His head tossed from side to side. "Oh, God. Nathan. Yes. Yes."
Nathan paid attention -- touching and fucking and making him fly. His dug his heels into the
couch, his hips working, pushing into Nathan's tongue as they both worked his cock.
"Soon." His voice sounded nearly as desperate as he felt.
"Yes." The single word vibrated against his ass.
That was all he needed, something very much like lightning going through him and making him
come. Nathan moaned, moving to lap his belly clean, hips jerking as Nathan jerked himself off.
"Nathan. Wait." He reached for Nathan's hand and prick.
"Hmm?" Nathan groaned, stared up at him, panting.
"Don't you want to make love to me?"
"Yes, but..." Nathan looked honestly confused. "You've already had your pleasure, Mate."
"But you haven't, and I'm all wet for you."
He wouldn't say getting tongue-fucked would be wasted if they didn't make love, not at all; but
still, he'd thought that's where Nathan had been going.
"Oh..." Nathan moved between his thighs, cock swollen and needy, thick. "Please."
He put his hands behind his knees and pulled his legs back, offering himself to Nathan.
"Oh. Oh, Geoff." The heavy tip of Nathan's cock pressed against his hole, spreading him,
pushing into him, so careful.
He groaned at the invasion, at the burning stretch that he hadn't felt in so long. He forced himself
to relax, though, to keep from tightening up.
"It's good?" Nathan stilled, watching him.
"Yes. Just go slow -- it's been awhile." He congratulated himself on not sounding strained.
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"You're sure?" Nathan's hips moved carefully, cock barely shifting inside him.
"I'm sure." Already the stretch was easy, the burn turning to pleasure. It made him catch his
breath. "I'm sure," he said again in a rush.
The lean hips shifted again, pulling out and pushing in, Nathan's cock sinking deeper. He could
feel every inch of Nathan's cock as it moved inside him. It was intense, and nothing like he
remembered; this was so much better.
"Mate. I feel you, all around me." Those eyes gleamed at him.
Jackson nodded. "You are huge, Nathan. But it feels so good."
"Not hurting?" Nathan thrust again, hips rolling.
"No! God, no."
"Good." Strong hands cupped his hips, pulling him onto the thick cock, moving him easily.
Groaning, he let go of his legs, hooking them over Nathan's shoulders. "Yes. Good."
Nathan took him with a strength that stole his breath, heavy cock spearing him, filling him until
it was all he could think about. He grabbed for his cock, his flesh hard again from Nathan's
possession.
"So fine." The tip of Nathan's cock slid over his gland.
"Nathan!" He cried out, his shoulders coming up off the couch.
"Yes." The electric touch came again and again.
He squeezed his cock tight, letting Nathan's thrusts push it through his fist. The pleasure was so
much -- too much -- and he was going to lose it any minute now. Nathan didn't slow, didn't stop,
that prick just driving into him, fucking him well and deep.
He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe; he could only feel.
And it felt so good.
"Mate. Mate. Need. Need you." Nathan's growl vibrated along his spine.
"Here. I'm here." He jacked himself quickly, his climax close. Their bodies slammed together,
electricity making him gasp, "Nathan. God." The world began to grey out as pleasure shot all
through him.
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He heard Nathan's howl distantly, the sound dragging his orgasm from him. He felt Nathan's cock jerking inside him, even as his own seed flowed up over his hand and across his belly. Nathan moaned, lips moving over his skin. He squeezed and released around Nathan's cock several times, each kiss setting off little ripples of pleasure. Nathan pulled away finally, snuffling at his jaw, his throat. He petted Nathan, melting down into
the cushions, utterly spent.
"I have you." Nathan's words were soft. Gentle.
"Good, good." He had a smile on his face he was pretty sure was rather goofy.
Nathan nodded. "Good. Very."
"Mmmhmm." He could feel himself falling asleep. "Have to do it again," he murmured.
"Mmm. Yes. Again and again."
He might have agreed, he didn't know; he was already mostly asleep.
Bitten - 98
Chapter Sixteen
"Greg."
He woke up with a start, ears twitching.
"Greg."
Who was that?
He crawled out of the bed, paws padding on the floor, tail held high.
Who was it?
Who was calling him?
"Greg."
He barked softly, answering.
"Greg?" That voice was different. That voice was Mate, clearly coming from the bed.
His forehead wrinkled and he yelped. Mate.
Anton grumbled. "Mate. Come back to bed."
He danced a bit, paws slipping on the floor. He didn't understand. Not at all.
"Greg? Shift back and come to bed."
He ducked his head, panting as he leapt onto the mattress next to Anton.
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"Hey, you're still all furry." Anton's fingers dug into his pelt.
He huffed, trying to remember how to change.
"Come on, Mate. Want you."
He licked his mate's arm, squeezed his eyes closed tight.
"Greg?" Anton sounded more awake, fingers digging into his fur now. "What is it? You want to
go running?"
He tried to change again, finally finding his skin.
Anton's fingers slid over his skin and drew him close. "Mmm... that's better."
"Someone was calling me."
"Someone called? On your cell? You turned it on? Who did you give your number to?"
"No. No, someone was calling my name."
Anton tugged him closer, one leg going over his. "Who?" That low, possessive growl was back.
Not that it was ever very far away.
"I don't know." He pushed closer, needing that protection.
Anton kept him close, but lifted his head, sniffing hard. He found himself doing the same thing,
searching out some scent, some clue. Something.
"I don't smell anyone, or anything that's out of place." Anton turned his attention to Greg's neck,
nuzzling into it. "Are you sure it wasn't a dream?"
"No. No, I'm not sure. I haven't ever woken up fuzzy."
"You shifted in your sleep?" Anton growled, looking out the window. "The moon isn't close
enough to being full."
"I know. I don't get it. I'm not very good at this yet." He wasn't used to it.
"You're getting better." Anton rubbed his belly with one hand and licked at a dark bruise on his
neck.
"You think so?" His chin lifted instinctively, his throat working.
"We go running every night, don't we?" Anton's breath was warm on his skin.
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"Mmm." He growled softly, lost in the sensations buffeting him.
Anton's mouth closed over the mark on his neck, sucking on it, making it ache.
"Anton." There was a deeper wound on the back of his neck, bite marks that would scar.
Anton growled for him, body moving to slide against him.
It was late, dark still. They should probably sleep. Oh, that felt good. Anton tilted him, their
cocks rubbing together. The low growl Anton made vibrated against his skin.
"Anton." He growled back, pushing a little bit. "Mate." He loved how that word felt on his
tongue.
Anton rolled them, putting him on top. Anton's fingers dug into his ass, moving them together.
He looked down at his lover, admiring the long hair, the streaks of silver that caught the
moonlight.
Anton made that almost purring noise and brought their mouths together, taking a kiss. This kiss
was soft, gentle, almost sweet. Greg moaned, fascinated by it. Anton's tongue slid through his
mouth, flirted with his own. He let his fingers comb through Anton's hair, his touch gentle, soft.
His lower lip was taken between Anton's, tugged but not bitten. Chuckling, he let his entire
weight onto Anton, let his lover hold him.
Anton hummed, pushing up to meet him as he came down. Their cocks slid, leaking tips kissing and making the way easier. They found a peaceful, easy rhythm, rocking and keeping the passion between them gentle, slow. It was unusual for them, and that made it kind of special. He let his eyes close, both of them breathing together, both of them moving, nice and easy.
Anton's hands squeezed his ass and then slid up along his back, fingers spread wide.
"Mmm." He hummed, rocking back into that touch.
"Mate," murmured Anton, eyes shining into his.
"Yeah. Yeah, all yours." Although something in him questioned that, somehow. Some voice
whispered inside him.
"Mine." Anton growled and reached up to bite his neck, adding a new mark.
"Anton." That ached, somewhere deeper than his throat.
Anton flipped them over again, pressing him into the mattress. He blinked up, surprised, shocked
at the sudden move.
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"Mine," Anton repeated, hips moving, rubbing circles against him.
"Yes."
No.
The word echoed in his head and he blinked.
"Did you hear that?"
"I heard you, Mate." Anton leaned in to bite at his lips.
Okay. Okay, weird.
Anton growled, sniffing his neck again. "Mate."
"Yes. Yes, please."
Anton licked his neck, tongue hot and dragging on his skin. "Mine."
"Yours."
Mine.
"Stop it!"
Anton drew back, growling. "What?"
"Can't you hear that?" He pulled away, crawling out of the bed.
"Hear what?" Anton frowned, following him. "What are you talking about?"
"There's someone talking to me."
"I am talking to you."
"I know." But there was someone else.
"Mate. Come back to bed."
"Maybe I'm just tired." Maybe he was just crazy.
"I don't understand, Greg. Who's talking to you if you don't mean me?"
"I don't know. It's nothing." Right? Right, wasn't it nothing?
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Anton tilted his head like he was trying to hear something. "Then come back to bed, Mate. We
were in the middle of something." Anton reached for him, dragging him back to the bed.
"One track mind." That hadn't changed.
"It's a good track."
How could he resist those eyes? His hands slid around Anton's waist, face lifting for a kiss.
Anton's mouth dropped down onto his, tongue sliding into his mouth. Strong fingers wrapped
around his ass and pulled him in close. He opened up, willing himself to focus, to be right there
with Anton.
The heat flared between them again, Anton's prick hot where it lay across his belly. His fingers
found the column of flesh, moving on it, rubbing.
Anton's growls started somewhere in his belly, coming out as a low, "Greg."
"Yes." He could feel those growls against his lips.
The kisses got deeper and Anton moved them back to the bed, laying him out beneath his mate's
body. Warm and solid, Greg let Anton hold him down, press against him and keep him right
there.
"Love," growled Anton, hands sliding on his skin, mouth taking sucking kisses from his face:
cheeks, nose, jaw, mouth.
"Yes. Please, Anton." Touch me.
Anton's fingers and tongue did touch him, Anton exploring him thoroughly; fingers dipped into
his collarbone; teeth worried his nipple; his abdomen was palmed, rubbed. Any thoughts of other
voices, other worries, disappeared, and he arched, giving himself over.
Anton pushed his arm up and nuzzled into his armpit, tongue rough against his skin there. He
growled happily, arching into Anton's heat. Anton pushed against his hips, giving him something
solid and real to rub against.
"Yours." This time, the voice didn't argue.
"Yes. Mine." Anton's mouth covered his again, the kiss strong and good. Anton's hips met his
over and over, their cocks sliding together hard.
He couldn't focus on anything else, just on Anton, their pleasure. One of Anton's fingers found
his right nipple, twisting it. "Anton. More. Please." Love.
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"Yes. More. Want." Anton reached down over the side of the bed, coming up with their beat-up
tube of lube.
He spread wide, the offer eager, immediate. Smiling wolfishly, Anton slicked up his fingers and
pushed them in.
"More." He bore down, took Anton in deeper.
Anton's fingers twisted and spread him wide, found his gland and pegged it. He howled, heels
pounding on the mattress.
"Yes." Anton hit his gland again.
He kept his hips moving, rocking against that touch, over and over. Bending, Anton took a nipple
into his mouth, teeth sharp and tongue hot as he sucked.
"Don't stop. Don't fucking stop." He needed this. Now.
"Not stopping," growled Anton. Still, those fingers disappeared, didn’t they?
"Anton. Damn it."
"I'm not stopping. I'm switching." Anton grinned, cock suddenly at his hole, stretching him wide.
Fuck, he loved that smile. He really did.
Anton held his gaze as the thick cock sank into him, taking him. His groan pushed right out of
him, shoved out by that cock. Anton hummed, hips moving, pushing into him, thrusting good
and hard. Greg chuckled, reached up to stroke Anton's lips. Fuck. Good. So good.
Anton bit at his fingers, eyes burning hot as they gazed down at him.
"Yes." He could feel that look, bone deep.
Nodding, Anton began to thrust harder. He could feel each thrust shudder up through his body.
"Yours." That arguing voice was silent now.
"Yes. Mine. Mate." Anton thrust with each word, beginning to growl.
"More." That sound made him crazed.
"More." Definitely a growl now, Anton's thrusts got harder, his lover pounding into him.
"Jesus. Jesus, so good."
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There were no more words from Anton, only the low growls, the hard thrusts, and Anton's eyes, hot and intense as Anton gazed down at him. He pushed himself up, mouth fastening on Anton's jaw, sucking, leaving a bruise. "Mate!" Anton's thrusts got harder, Anton jerking into him now -- out of control.
He held on, riding out the passion, the need, the hunger. Riding it and letting it send him flying.
"Come with me," growled Anton.
"Yes." The single word hissed from him, desperate and needy.
One of Anton's hands grabbed his prick, tugging hard as his lover thrust into him. He shot hard
enough that his teeth rattled.
"Yes!" Anton howled, pumping heat into him.
Greg found himself floating, moaning as he sank onto the bed, little lights dancing behind his
eyes. Anton collapsed down onto him, body heavy and good. He wrapped around the strong
body, holding tight.
"Mate," murmured Anton, making a happy, purring noise.
"Mmmhmm." His eyelids were heavy, weighted down.
Anton grunted, or maybe even snored.
He let himself go, let himself float.
He was right where he wanted to be, curled up under Anton.
Life was good.
*** Anton started a fire, the scent of the wood smoke momentarily masking the musk of his mate. Mate, and the wonderful scents coming from the kitchen. He made sure the fire had caught properly, then put the screen in front of it and headed for the kitchen, his stomach growling and his cock filling. Greg was murmuring softly, moving from stove to sink, pots and pans rattling.
He leaned against the kitchen island behind Greg. "You smell good."
Greg jumped a little, then relaxed back into him. "It's the steak."
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"Oh, that smells good, too, but I was talking about you." He leaned into Greg's neck and sniffed. "Yeah. I definitely meant you." Greg rumbled happily, leaning into his arms.
"How long until food's ready?" Greg made him steak at least once a day. His mate was so good
to him.
"Ten minutes, give or take."
"Oh, that's long enough." He pushed his cock against Greg's ass.
"Perv. I'm working." Greg's ass pushed right back.
"I don't think it's pervy to want to make out with a working man. Not when the working man in question smells like you do." He spread his hand over Greg's belly. He could feel Greg's muscles jump and roll. He hummed, tongue sliding on Greg's neck, finding the hot skin where his marks were. "I'm cooking, Anton." "You said you had ten minutes." He kept licking. "Mmm. Nine now." Greg made the best noises. "I need to work quickly, then." He let his hand drop down to cover Greg's crotch. "Working." Greg arched into his touch. "Me, too." He massaged Greg's package, tongue sliding across the deep bite mark on the back of
Greg's neck.
He heard the deep, happy rumble that moved through Greg, then Greg stilled, gasped.
"Mmm... you like that." He licked the bite mark again, tongue pressing hard.
"I do." Greg moaned, and then stepped away. "I have to turn your steak."
"Don't you mean our steaks?" He followed Greg, crowding his lover.
"I -- No. No, I'm not hungry."
"What?" Anton frowned and buried his nose in Greg's neck again, sniffing hard. His mate
smelled healthy, good. Sexy. He shook that off. "Why not?"
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"Because. I... I think I need to just get out of the house for a bit. Walk. That'll fix me right up."
"Because we didn't go for a walk after breakfast this morning, or out for a run last night.
Besides..." He turned Greg around, still frowning. "What do you need 'fixed up'?"
"I'm going crazy." The words didn't make sense.
"What are you talking about?" He leaned in again, sniffing harder and longer, but his mate
smelled right.
"I hear someone in my head, arguing with you. It's making me crazy."
"What?" He was starting to sound like a broken record, but Greg was talking crazy.
"Nothing. Here. Your steak's ready." Greg put a beautiful steak on a plate, a potato beside it.
Though his stomach growled, Anton had to admit that he wasn't nearly as interested in the steak
as he had been just moments ago. "Don't tell me it's nothing. You said it was something."
"I'm just. I'm sure it's just the change. The moon. Nothing."
He growled unhappily. "You're sure it's nothing?"
"I'm sure. Eat."
He sniffed once again, just because, but honestly, all he could smell was the steak. He grabbed a
fork and knife and started devouring it. "You sure you don't want any?" he asked around a
mouthful.
Greg nodded, moving around the kitchen, cleaning, organizing.
Well, that was crazy. Anton's stomach had been growling, wanting his steak. He finished it off,
licking his lips. You couldn't go wrong with a steak, but when Greg got a hold of it, it became
magnificent.
By the time he was finished, Greg had cleaned the kitchen and slipped away. Concerned, he
didn't even bother putting his plate in the sink before he left the kitchen to look for Greg. It
wasn't like his mate to leave him like that.
Greg was outside, face lifted toward the sky, the snow falling on him.
Anton shivered. His mate wasn't even wearing a coat. "Aren't you cold?"
He caught sight of Greg’s reflection in one of the cabin windows; it looked for a moment like
someone was standing with Greg. He did a double take, growling and looking back at Greg. His
Bitten - 107
mate was alone, though, and when he looked back at the window, there was only his mate's reflection. Something was... odd.
He grabbed Greg by his arms and looked into his mate's eyes. "What did you say was wrong
again?"
""What?"
"When I asked what was wrong, what was it you said? Exactly?"
"That I was going crazy."
"But why do you think that?" He kept glancing back to the window, but the only reflections he
saw there now were Greg's and his own.
"Someone's talking to me. Arguing with you, when you talk. I swear, Anton, I can hear him."
Greg looked heartsick, scared.
He had to bite back his snarl. "Arguing how, Mate?"
"Saying that I'm not yours. It's stupid, but I swear to you, Anton, I hear it."
He did snarl then. "You are mine." For a moment, out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the
shadow figure in the window again, its arms going around Greg. He put his head back and he howled. Greg jerked away, panicked, eyes rolling.
He lunged for his mate again, dragging Greg up against his body. "Someone is doing this to you,
Mate. To us."
"What? Doing what? How? What is happening to me?"
"I don't know. It must be some dark magic." They couldn’t both be going crazy.
"Dark..." Greg stared at him. "I've had enough of this, Anton. I can't do this!"
"We don't even know what this is!"
"I KNOW!" Greg started to shift, body shaking violently.
"Mate!" Anton did the only thing he knew. He shifted with Greg, barking, rubbing against Greg
to mark his mate.
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Greg ran in circles, chasing something, the barks wild and scared. Anton leapt at his mate, growling, demanding Greg's submission. Yelps filled the air, but Greg was smaller, the urge to submit built into his mate. Greg finally allowed him to bite the back of his mate's neck and he held on tight, growling softly. Mine. Mate. Mine. Caught halfway between human and wolf, Greg whined. "Help me." Anton shifted back to human, hands sliding over skin and fur. "Human, Greg. This will need
more than instinct to figure out."
"C...c...cold."
Well, yes. It was snowing.
"Inside." He grabbed Greg's hand and dragged his mate toward the house, picking up clothes as
they went.
He was no pup like Greg; he really ought to have better control over his instincts. The problem
was, they were always something he'd locked away, deep inside himself. He'd always strived to
be civilized, and on those nights he couldn't be, he'd made Jackson lock him in.
Suddenly he had a mate, one who was a wolf like him, and he couldn't hide that side of himself
away anymore. He needed to get it together, though, for Greg. Something was happening to his
mate, and it wasn't helping that he was caught in the instinctual loop of mate, feed, sleep.
Greg was whimpering and whining, following him.
They went in and he was glad of the fire he'd built earlier. He put another log on it and then sat
near it, drawing Greg into his lap. "We'll figure it out." Even if he had to call Andrea. Someone
had to know what kind of magic this was.
Greg settled, panting softly, cheek on his shoulder. He petted his mate, the smooth skin slick
with sweat.
Someone was attacking them.
Still.
Somehow.
"Did this start today?"
"No. No, remember? Remember that night when I asked if you could hear him?"
Anton rumbled, thinking back. "Yeah, you were being weird."
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Greg didn't argue, simply nodded.
"Lars?" It was the only thing that made sense, certainly more sense than believing they had a
second enemy out there. "But how?"
"How would I know? I don't have any idea what happened to me, even how it happened to me."
"We should call Andrea. She might know what's going on." He growled, holding Greg close and
looking into the corners, as if there could be anyone here he couldn't scent.
"How? How would she know?"
"Because Andrea and the pack are normal werewolves."
"What are we? Abnormal?"
"You're new. I'm... I've spent my time as a werewolf fighting my instincts, ignoring as much as I
can the fact that I am what I am."
Greg stared at him for a moment. "That was confusing."
He tried to explain it again. "Until you came along, I had locked that side away in a small box.
Well, you've seen the room."
"I have. I did." He felt Greg shudder against him.
He stroked Greg's spine. "I have always fought what I am. Although I am the pack’s alpha, I
have very little to do with them. Andrea rules them, really. When you came along all that
mattered was making you mine."
"You did a good job of it." Greg hummed softly, relaxing for him.
He growled softly "I did. Mine." He nipped Greg's earlobe as he spoke the last word.
"Yes." Greg nodded, hummed.
He pulled Greg to him, fingers digging into muscles.
"I don't know what to think."
"We'll figure it out, Mate." He wasn't giving Greg up, so they'd have to.
"Do you swear it?"
He took Greg's chin and tilted his face so he good look into the bright eyes. "I swear it."
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"I don't believe him, you know. The voice."
That filled him with pride. "Good. You're mine. It doesn't matter what anyone else says."
"I know." Greg cuddled in, fingers moving over his skin.
"Can you hear it now?"
"No. No, not right now."
"Good." He brought their mouths together, kissing his mate -- his -- fiercely.
Those soft lips parted, little goatee tickling his chin. Greg gave and gave to him, tongue pushing
against his own. He lost himself in the kiss, in the taste and feeling of his mate's mouth.
Greg growled into his lips, teeth nipping at him. "Mate."
"Yes. Yours." He and Greg belonged to each other. He'd known it from the start, deep down
inside.
Greg was his and he was going to have to find out how to get that voice away. He bit at his mark
on Greg's throat, sucking at the bruise. That got him a soft, happy little rumble and Greg reached
for him, eyes glowing just barely. He responded to that with a growl, pushing Greg onto his
back. He loved. He needed. Greg was his.
"Keep me." The words were soft, nearly sub-vocal.
"Always. You're mine." He would fight to the death for his mate.
"Yes." This kiss was soft, long, Greg holding him, clinging, worried.
He deepened the kiss, wanting to drive everything from Greg's mind but him. Greg whimpered,
lips parting so he could lick inside, touch Greg's teeth with his tongue. He loved the flavor of his
mate, the way it was comforting and exciting at the same time.
One of Greg's hands was in his hair, fingers stroking through, petting him. He purred, fingers
sliding on Greg's skin, touching deep.
The muscles were becoming more and more defined, the dark curls above Greg's cock heavier. It
was sexy, stunning, his.
Groaning, he pressed Greg into the rug.
"Make him stay away."
"He can't have you, mate. You're mine. All mine."
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Greg nodded, staring at him. "He's going to try to take me back."
"We're not going to let him." He'd been half considering moving, leaving his territory behind and
letting Lars do as he would. Now Anton didn't have that choice. It wasn't that he was a coward; it
was just all so uncivilized, messy.
"No. No, he... he wants to ruin me." There was a panicked look on Greg's face that disappeared
almost immediately.
"I won't let him. You're mine." He pushed two fingers into Greg's mouth to get wet. "I'll show
you."
Greg nipped at his fingers, moaning softly.
"Suck," he growled softly.
He loved the soft rumbling sounds that Greg made, the way his fingers were taken in, nibbled
and licked and sucked on. That focus, the way Greg wanted him, heated him like nothing else
had, ever.
He rubbed their bodies together, finding the heat between them bigger than any fire. Greg's eyes
dropped closed, the suction becoming harder, more steady.
"Fuck." It was like Greg was sucking his cock, making his balls ache.
He spread Greg's legs with his knees, not ready yet to slide his fingers out of Greg's mouth. His
prick slid across Greg's balls, periodically slipping back to nudge the tight little hole. He wanted
in; he needed it, and so did Greg.
Finally, he pulled his fingers from Greg's mouth and slid them into that sweet, hot little hole.
Greg bore down, pushing onto his fingers, driving down on him and taking him in deep.
"Please."
"Yes. Mine." He stretched Greg, his fingers pushing and scissoring and finding Greg's gland.
Those legs spread wider, Greg's hole spreading around his knuckles. Groaning, he bit at Greg's
lips, his tongue pushing into Greg's mouth to taste. That panicked flavor was fading, leaving
hunger and need, desperation.
He didn't make either of them wait for what they wanted, needed. Instead he pulled out his
fingers and rubbed the slick tip of his cock against Greg's little hole. Greg rolled them, body
slamming down over his cock.
"Mate!" He cried out, hands grabbing Greg's waist, helping Greg rise up and come down again.
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His lover was feral, wild. Beautiful in the throes of need. Their bodies slammed together as they took what they needed, as they tried to merge. He found Greg's cock with his hand, fingers wrapping tight. Greg stared down at him, eyes heated, breath panting from both of them. "Mate."
He nodded, in total agreement. "Mine."
His lover's head slammed back, a howl filling the air.
"Yes!" He pushed up, thrusting into Greg's body.
Spunk sprayed over his belly, marking him, scenting him. He howled as well, filling Greg with
his own seed.
Greg moaned, slumped down against him, panting hard. He wrapped his arms around his mate,
holding on. Greg was here, was his.
End of story.
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Chapter Seventeen
Jackson watched the snow come down hard, burying them in yet more of the white stuff. That was fine by him. They'd gotten supplies for Christmas and New Year's on the weekend. There was a fire roaring merrily away. And Nathan was making him some sort of special hot chocolate. Jackson really couldn't think of a better way to spend the last few hours of Christmas Eve. There wasn't a tree, but Nathan had made a simple decoration over the mantle with lights and boughs and a single strand of garland, making things festive. Warm. Beautiful.
Nathan took such good care of him.
He turned, eyes searching Nathan out. His lover was coming out of the kitchen bearing two
steaming mugs, candy canes stuck in the sides.
He laughed, clapping his hands. "Look at that. You're brilliant."
His sweet lover pinked, stared at him with a sweet grin.
Jackson reached out and took one of the mugs. "So, hot chocolate with peppermint. Did you put
any schnapps in this, too?"
"I did. We don't have anywhere to go. The moon is waning."
"You're trying to get me drunk," he teased.
"Never." That grin could only be called wolfish.
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"You don't have to, you know. I'm very willing as I am." He leaned in, hand sliding over Nathan's amazing, muscled chest. "I only want to share the holiday with you. It is our first."
"You say that as if it's the first of many." He liked the idea of that. He liked believing that, when
this was all over, they wouldn't just go their separate ways.
"Yes. I know you do not believe me, but we are mates."
He stroked Nathan's cheek, leaning in to bring their lips together in a soft kiss. "Sweet boy."
Nathan made him feel young.
Nathan rumbled for him, tongue sliding into his lips, tasting him carefully. He opened wider,
inviting Nathan to deepen the kiss. Nathan tasted like chocolate and mint and cream. It was
delicious. Fascinating. Addictive.
He needed to put down his hot chocolate or he was going to spill it, his focus almost all on
Nathan. But he couldn't quite make himself stop kissing.
"Mmm. Mate. Mate. Love." Nathan's red hair fell all around him.
Jackson moaned, his head moving from side to side so that hair slid on his cheeks. The hot
chocolate spilled over his fingers and he chuckled, stepped back. "You make me forget myself."
He took a sip of the hot chocolate. "Oh, it's very good." Then he put the mug down and looked
for something to wipe his hand off with.
Nathan took his hand and very, very thoroughly licked it clean. Knees buckling, he groaned,
leaned into Nathan. Nathan's lips wrapped around his finger, sucking firmly.
"Nathan..." He whimpered, watching Nathan's lips on him.
Teeth scraped over his skin. "Hmm?"
"I want you." Always. All the time. It was crazy. It was also rather wonderful.
"Good." Nathan pulled him down onto the sofa and handed him his drink.
He cuddled in, sipping on the spiked hot chocolate. "When do you want your present? Tonight or
tomorrow morning?"
"Whenever you want to give it to me."
"Tomorrow morning, then. So we can pretend Father Christmas came."
"That sounds lovely." Nathan drank deep, humming with pleasure.
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"So do you." He leaned in and licked at the corner of Nathan's mouth. Minty fresh. Nathan reached for him, hands sliding around his waist. "God, you're so warm." "It's the way I'm made." Nathan rumbled for him. "Well, I like it. I'm never cold with you, even when we dispose of our clothes." His hand slid over Nathan's chest beneath his T-shirt, always drawn to the muscles there, his fingers fascinated. The heavy red curls were springy under his palms, the skin warm, firm. He raised his head, mouth already open for Nathan's kiss. He slid one hand southward to cup Nathan through his jeans, and the other up to card through the long curls. Nathan's kisses burned him, bone deep, the passion flooding him. All it took were these kisses to rev him right up. He rubbed against Nathan, knowing himself for a wanton and reveling in it. Nathan responded just as eagerly, hips rolling and rocking, pressing that turgid flesh into his touch. He tugged at Nathan's jeans' button. "You shouldn't be allowed to wear clothes." It would make things so much easier if Nathan were naked all the time. Nathan chuffed softly, entire body rippling for him. He laughed himself; he knew the idea was silly, but he liked it. He liked it a lot. He got the button and then zipper of Nathan's jeans undone and it had him groaning, to touch Nathan's cock directly. If Nathan was hot, then his cock was burning. It was a heady feeling, all the raw power, the hunger right there offered up to him. He pushed Nathan's T-shirt up so he could lick at Nathan's nipples. He loved how sensitive they were. Fat and dark, they seemed to swell, begging for his touch, for his teeth. Honestly, Nathan made him quite mad with passion. He gnawed on them as if he were the wolf, tongue flicking back and forth, matching the rhythm he was using to stroke the firm cock. The soft sounds became growls, Nathan beginning to toss under him, the heat pouring off that fine body. His own cock was hard, pressing against his trousers in a way that had become familiar over the last weeks. Nathan just did it for him. "More, Mate. I'm yours. Your own." Every time Nathan said that, he believed it a little bit more. Every day that they were together, he fell for Nathan a little harder. Groaning, he wriggled down Nathan's body, eager for a taste of the thick cock. Nathan's fingers were working the swollen bits of nipples, tugging and pinching, taking up where he left off. Moaning at the sight, he got to Nathan’s cock and licked at the tip,
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collecting the liquid that had pooled at the tip. Bitter and salty and male -- Nathan's musk filled
him, overtaking the memory of the chocolate and mint.
Eager for more, he wrapped his lips around the thick head and put on the suction. Nathan
snapped out a bark and arched, pushing into his lips, filling his mouth. He took Nathan in,
backing his head up a touch so he didn't gag, and kept the suction going.
"Mate." His sweet lover rocked and moved for him, crying out, over and over.
He dragged his tongue as best he could over Nathan's cock, and concentrated on keeping the
suction firm, giving Nathan the best sensations he could.
"Mate!" He heard Nathan's claws on the sofa, heard the deep, needy cry as that sweet cock
swelled.
He hummed around Nathan's prick, willing his lover to come for him. Seed throbbed into his
lips, splashed over his tongue, so hot. He swallowed it all down, drinking Nathan in.
Nathan moaned for him, eyes rolling. "Mate."
The word sent a shiver through him this time and settled in his balls. Slowly pulling off Nathan's
prick, Jackson rubbed against the sofa.
"Do you want inside me, Mate?" Nathan's legs spread, the move lazy, easy.
"Oh. I..." He rarely did that. In fact, it had been a very long time since he had. "Would you like
me to, Nathan?"
"I would not have offered, if I didn't."
"Okay." He took a deep breath, his cock throbbing, his balls aching. "Where's the stuff?"
Nathan rumbled softly, stretching and arching, showing off the lovely curve of body. He was
distracted by Nathan. He was looking for... A mostly used tube of slick was pushed into his hand.
"Oh! Yes, thank you." He chuckled and leaned in to kiss Nathan's belly.
Nathan's muscles leapt under his lips, the skin so warm. He rubbed his nose against the warm
flesh, his tongue dragging along behind. He loved the happy sounds Nathan made for him -- low
and deep, yet utterly pleased.
He managed to get his fingers slick, and he rubbed them along Nathan's crack as he continued to
lick along Nathan's belly. Relaxed and easy, Nathan opened for him, trusting in his touch.
Nathan was so hot, the wrinkled flesh bumpy against his fingertip. He stroked it over and over
before pushing in.
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"Geoff." His name sounded like a prayer in that rough voice.
"Right here." He kissed one of Nathan's balls, pushing his finger in as far as it could go.
Hot and slick, tight and soft -- Nathan felt perfect. Jackson pulled out and then went in again
with two fingers this time. His eyes closed and he gasped, sliding in and out.
"It's good?" Nathan leaned up, hands sliding over his shoulders.
"I'm supposed to be asking you that."
"Are you? Are you sure?"
He laughed softly, fingers wriggling. "I'm sure." He twisted his fingers inside Nathan. "It's
good?"
"Good!" Nathan's eyes flew open. "Geoff."
"Oh, good." Laughing, happy, he turned and twisted, stretching his fingers.
He watched as Nathan went wild for him, bucking and rolling, humping on his hand. He kept
pushing until he found Nathan's gland, watching what happened when his fingertips pressed it.
His name echoed inside the cabin, Nathan's muscles rippling, rolling for him.
He did it again, feeling sexy and powerful.
"Please. Please, more." Wanton man.
He pushed another finger in, stretching Nathan wider. It was fascinating, watching the tight little
hole stretch around his touch, watching Nathan moan and pull him in.
"You feel so good, Nathan." He spread his fingers wide, and then pushed them up against
Nathan's gland again.
"So good." Nathan's legs drew up, panting.
"Are you ready, Nathan? For me?"
"Yes. Yes, I need. I need to feel." He believed it. Nathan's cock was flushed and dark, the tip
dripping copiously.
"Condom. Condom." He fumbled through the books on the coffee table. "In me." That growl was a direct command.
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"As soon as I find a condom." He shoved the chess board off the table, finding two packages beneath it. He’d totally forgotten protection that first time Nathan had taken him -- he’d made sure to buy the things when they’d gone into town for supplies. He wouldn’t risk his lover. "You can't infect me. We're different."
He met Nathan's eyes. "Truly?" He wanted to believe it.
"I swear to you. I can't get sick."
"All right." He slicked up his prick, trying to ignore how good it felt. It would feel even better
once he was buried inside Nathan.
"Look at you..." Nathan rumbled happily, fingers stroking his own cock.
"Me? No, look at you." He settled between Nathan's spread legs, his hands rubbing along
Nathan's inner thighs.
It was stunning, the way Nathan parted, spread.
"Ready?" He was ready. So very ready.
"In me. Take me. Make me yours." That was a yes.
He guided his prick to the little wrinkled hole and began to push. Oh, Nathan was tight and hot
and so good around him.
"Mate." Nathan squeezed him hard, body working him even as he worked himself in.
He gasped, groaned, and kept moving in, pulling almost all the way out and then sinking in
again. They found a rhythm, moving together, Nathan undulating. It had been a long time since he'd done this, and that had been with a condom. This was... it blew his mind.
Nathan was so hot and smooth and tight around his cock, and it felt so good to sink into that heat
again and again. He locked his elbow, hand just beneath Nathan's armpit, holding himself up as
he reached for Nathan's cock with his other hand. The heavy shaft fit perfectly in his hand, the
veins throbbing and thick as the thin skin slid over his palm.
He looked into Nathan's eyes, the look there going straight to his cock, to somewhere deep
inside.
"Your own." The words seemed heavy, filled with meaning.
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Bending, he slid his lips across Nathan's, the angle of his cock shifting as he moved. Nathan growled into his lips, hands like vises where they wrapped around his arms. He pushed his tongue into Nathan's mouth, fucking it as surely as he was fucking Nathan's ass. His. His. The word pounded in his head, beating into him. He'd never felt like this before, and it was far more than just riding someone bareback. He made a sound, almost like one of Nathan's, and moved faster. His. His mate. His Nathan. His lover. His own. Jackson -- Geoff, something inside him demanded, Nathan calls you Geoff -- ached with it. He pulled out of the kiss with a gasp, the word "Mate!" leaving him as he plunged into Nathan's
body.
"Yes!" Heat poured between them, Nathan's body pulling and milking his cock.
Geoff cried out again, jerking as he came, filling Nathan with his seed.
Strong arms wrapped around him, pulled him in close. "Mate."
He couldn't deny it. He wouldn't. It didn't matter that he didn't understand; he simply knew it was
true. He hummed, cuddling in close. One of Nathan's hands slid down his side, petting him,
stroking him.
He rubbed his cheek against Nathan's hairy, muscled chest. "I'm glad I'm spending Christmas with you." "Oh, I am, too. It's good, to have each other."
He nodded and settled happily, the roaring fire and his lover's body working together to keep him
warm and cozy as the snow fell all around their little cabin.
Happy Christmas Eve to him.
*** He smelled cinnamon. Nathan hummed softly, limbs moving on the sheets. Cinnamon and yeast. Flour. Something good. He could hear singing, too, just softly. If he concentrated, he could make out the words to God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman in a light tenor. The sounds were interspersed with the sound of plates clinking. It was lovely and warm and homey.
Nathan thought he'd stay here, wrapped in his dream.
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The smell of bacon joined the cinnamon, and the sound of frying punctuated Joy to the World,
the singing a little louder now.
"Mmm." He chuffed and rolled from the bed, head tossing. Bacon.
His mate knew how to tempt him from his nest of covers.
Geoff was at the stove, wearing only a pair of sweats which hung low on Geoff's hips. The salt
and pepper hair was tousled, Geoff's back smooth, the marks left by Lars’ men all but gone.
Joy to the World slid into Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.
He hummed softly, wandering over to nuzzle and lick the back of Geoff's neck.
Geoff jumped slightly and then laughed, leaning back against him. "You're always so warm."
"Yes." He cuddled closer. "Merry Christmas, Mate."
"Mmm... yes. Happy Christmas." One of Geoff's hands came up to slide through his hair. "The
happiest."
He rumbled happily, arching under the touch. "Yes."
Geoff wriggled back against him. "There's a present for you by the fire."
"There's a present for me right here."
Geoff stilled and then turned in his arms, beaming up at him. His mate looked happy. Healthy
and happy.
"Are you going to open it?"
He nodded, then reached over to grab a piece of bacon.
Geoff laughed and went for it, taking half of it and popping in his mouth, eyes twinkling.
"Oh, stealing my breakfast..." He pounced, tickling happily.
Geoff laughed, wriggling in his arms, fingers searching him for ticklish spots.
"Geoff!" He laughed hard, pushing Geoff into the counter.
Geoff gasped, hands sliding to hold onto his shoulders. He nibbled at Geoff's lips, tasting bacon.
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"Mmm." Geoff's mouth opened for him, invited him in. The kiss stayed light, gentle caresses, brushes of lips, of tongues. "I made cinnamon buns. There's even sticky topping for them. And there's bacon and eggnog." "Mmm." His stomach growled loudly. Geoff laughed at him, fingers going through his hair, stroking. His head dipped forward,
rumbling softly.
"We should eat. Open our presents."
Still, he could feel the hardness of his mate's need against his thigh.
"Yes." He nodded, smiled. They could let their passion wait.
Geoff leaned up and kissed him softly before turning back around and putting several cinnamon
buns and a bunch of bacon on a single plate. "You take this, I'll bring the eggnog."
"Looks perfect." He padded into the living room, panting a bit.
Geoff followed with a couple of glasses of eggnog, joining him on the couch, snuggling right in
like that was where he belonged. Nathan wrapped one arm around Geoff, holding on, and they
ate, chuckling and talking easily.
Geoff popped a last bite of cinnamon bun into his mouth. "Did you want your present?"
He reached out, squeezing Geoff's package carefully.
Geoff moaned, pressing closer. "I did mean your real present, but we can do this first."
"Yes." He set the eggnog aside, muscling Geoff down onto the couch, hands running over the
lean body.
Geoff arched up into his touches, already panting slightly.
"I smell you."
Geoff touched his cheeks, his nose. "I hope I smell good."
"You smell like home."
"Oh..." Geoff pressed up into a kiss, tongue sliding gently between his lips.
Luscious. He pressed down, rubbing against his mate steadily. Geoff wrapped a leg around his
waist, rubbing back eagerly.
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His gift. His sweet man. His mate. His. His. Nathan could howl with it.
Geoff's fingers found his nipples, twisting both. Nathan found himself growling, just a bit, just
under his breath, the sound hiding the voice that wanted to beg for more. Then Geoff’s mouth
found his, their tongues twisting together in a hot kiss. His hips moved as if they had a mind of
their own, pressing down and rolling, bucking against Geoff.
"More," murmured Geoff. "More." The second time it was a demand.
"Yes." Geoff's hunger made him ache. Their cocks slid and rubbed together, bumping and
pushing, feeling so good. He tried to reach down, hold their cocks together and...
He was on the floor before he could figure out if his hand slipped on the slick fabric of the sofa
or if his elbow gave out.
"Nathan!" Geoff came down after him, hands sliding on him.
They stared at each other, then started laughing, both of them tickled, holding onto each other.
Geoff lay on top of him, spreading happy little kisses over his face, his chest.
"I slipped." He winked, enjoying the feel of Geoff's laughter against him.
His words earned him more laughter, Geoff shifting and rubbing against him. Nathan grabbed
Geoff's thighs, spreading his lover over his hips.
"Oh, get me stretched, Nathan. Please."
"Needy." He appreciated it, down to his bones. Nathan let his fingers drag around Geoff's thighs,
fingers pushing under the man's balls.
Groaning, Geoff arched, looking wanton. He tapped at Geoff's hole, the wrinkled ring of muscles
fascinating to his fingers.
Geoff cried out and jerked. "Nathan!"
"Yes. Yes, Mate." He touched again, then again.
Geoff began to rock, pressing down into each touch. The tip of his finger slipped in, Geoff's
body seeming to pull upon it, try to tug it deeper in.
"Yes. Please, Nathan!"
"Anything." He pushed deeper, the tight ring almost scraping against his finger.
"I want you. I do." Geoff bore down, taking him in deeper, eyes wide.
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"I'm yours." His cock was leaking, heated drops sliding down the shaft.
"Yes." Geoff nodded, body moving along his finger.
He looked down his body, staring as his finger appeared and disappeared, again and again.
Geoff's hands slid on his chest, fingers pressing into his muscles as Geoff worked his finger.
"Tell me when you're ready for my cock." His cock was ready for Geoff.
A shudder moved through Geoff. "Soon. Stretch me more."
He added another finger without hesitating, moaning deep in his chest as Geoff squeezed him.
"Nathan. Nathan." Geoff was panting, moaning and riding his fingers.
"Yes." He nodded, fingers pushing harder, filling Geoff up.
Geoff cried out and arched, grabbing at the hair on his chest, at his skin.
Growling, he tugged Geoff back, positioning the man over his cock. "Please."
"Yes. Yes." Geoff looked into his eyes, lowering slowly over his cock. "Mate."
He shook, staying still, breathing through his mouth to keep his control. "Yes."
"Yes." Geoff nodded, moaned a little as he settled, sitting on his cock, his hips.
They stayed like that a moment, panting together, eyes focused on each other. This was his and
he would fight to keep it.
Then Geoff blinked and rasped out a single word. "Move."
He nodded, planted his feet, and pushed up with his hips.
Geoff's hands were flat on his chest now, the thin hips rising and falling as Geoff rode him.
"Stay with me." Even after the danger was past. Geoff was his pack.
"Yes." There was no hesitation in Geoff's reply, only surety and pleasure in his mate's voice.
He howled softly, happy all through. Yes. Yes, good. Another shudder went through Geoff. One
hand going to his own cock, Geoff tugged quickly.
"Yes. Need to smell you." He loved wearing his lover's scent.
"Nathan." Geoff's eyes went dark, and he started riding harder.
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"Yes. Yes, Geoff. Spend on me. Come on me so that I smell of you."
With a shout, Geoff came for him, seed splashing onto his belly. Nathan bucked up, hands
spreading the heat into his skin as he drove into Geoff's body. Geoff's ass squeezed tight around
his cock, trying to keep him in each time he withdrew.
"Mate. Mate, love." His eyes rolled in their sockets, his pleasure growing and growing.
"Yes, Nathan. Yes." Geoff pinched his nipples.
Heat poured from him, pushed into Geoff's body. Geoff shouted and collapsed, bringing their
mouths together.
He fed off the kiss, chuffing happily, the orgasm continuing in waves. Geoff simply clung to
him, moaning into his mouth.
"Mate." They were on the floor, naked, sticky, on Christmas morning.
It was lovely.
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Chapter Eighteen
Anton grabbed his cell phone from the charger and turned it on. He sat in the big chair next to the fireplace and dialed Andrea's number. Someone knew what the hell was going on with Greg and this mysterious voice that apparently insisted that Greg was not his. As if Greg could ever be anything but his. His mate.
He'd never been more sure of anything in his life.
"Anton. What's up?" Practical, penal, his dear packmate. She was always there for him.
"We have a problem." He could be equally practical in return; there was no need for him to beat
around the bush.
"What? Have they found you?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know, Andrea. They aren't here, but something's going on with Greg." It
made him growl, thinking about it.
"What? Don't be vague, Anton. Just tell me."
"I don't know what, exactly. Greg says that he's hearing voices in his head. Voices that tell him
I'm not his mate, that he doesn't belong to me. He does, Andrea. Any fool can see that!" He didn't
mean to shout, but he was upset.
"Voices? He's going crazy? I mean, he was stable before, yes?"
"He's not crazy. I saw something in the window. A shadow figure standing over him. Someone is
doing this to him." He would go down there and beat her to death if she continued to call his
mate crazy.
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"Okay. Okay. I -- I'll make some inquiries, see what I can find. Keep him safe and I'll see what's what." "It must be Lars. Who else would do something like this?"
"I don't know, Anton. I haven't met anyone who came over unwillingly. That type of thing is
ancient history."
"And I was cursed at birth. I've never mixed with my kind. You and the pack are the closest I've ever been with other wolves, Andrea." "You were born to it, at least."
"Yes. Though I had no one to help me through it. Still. I've never heard of anything like this,
Andrea. It's some dark magic attacking my mate. He’s not crazy."
"I'll find out what I can. Protect him well."
"With my life." That was a no-brainer. "I'll turn the phone back on each evening at six for an
hour."
"I'll call." The phone went dead, leaving him feeling no better than he had.
Growling, he turned the phone back off and set it in the charger. Then he went looking for his
mate.
He heard Greg in the kitchen, muttering under his breath, pots and pans clanging. It wasn't happy
cooking banging either. He headed that way, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors.
"Stop bothering me. I am not leaving this cabin, do you understand?" Greg was wandering, eyes
focused on something within.
Anton growled, bristling. He swore the hair on his body was standing on end. "Who are you
talking to?"
"What?" Greg spun around, an egg crashing to the ground.
Anton growled and went to Greg, going around the egg mess. He wrapped his arms around Greg
as if he could shield his mate from this with his body.
"Anton. I was going to cook."
"You were talking to someone who isn't here."
"No, I wasn't. I was cooking."
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"Oh, no. You will not start lying to me about this." He shook Greg a little. "I heard you." "I DON'T LIE!" The scream rocked him back on his heels, surprising him almost as much as when Greg turned and ran from him. He only stood there staring for a moment, and then he took off after Greg. This was becoming unacceptable. And very worrying. Greg headed for the bedroom, the door slamming and locking behind him. "Greg!" He banged on the door, utterly shocked and more than a little upset. "Let me in!" He heard Greg's pained, scared howling, heard the sounds of things falling. "Mate! Greg!" He put his head back, howling as well. He needed to be with Greg. He needed to
be there with his mate.
"Anton." He could hear Greg, on the other side of the door, heart pounding.
"Let me in, Greg." Let me help you.
"I'm scared. I want to go back to before."
He clawed at the door. "Me, too, Mate. Please. Let me in. Let me in."
The door knob turned, his lover, his mate standing there, eyes haunted.
"Greg." He opened his arms.
"He won't leave me alone."
"I'm sorry, Mate. I wish I knew how to make him stop." He hated this. It made him feel impotent,
furious.
"I do, too. Maybe I should go back. Maybe... I don't know."
"No. Whoever's doing this, that's what they want. We stick it out together." He kissed Greg, hard
and quick. "Andrea is looking into it. She'll find something." Greg stepped closer, whimpering
into his lips. "We'll fix this, Greg. I swear." He buried his tongue in Greg's mouth, tasting his
mate. "I want to. I want him to go away."
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"Me, too. He can't have you. You're mine."
"No." That wasn't Greg's voice.
He snarled, putting Greg behind him and bringing his fists up. "Who's there? Show yourself?"
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
"He's mine," Anton shouted.
Greg stepped away from him, moaning, shaking his head.
"Is it better or worse when you're the wolf?"
"I... It's... It's clearer."
There went that idea. He'd been hoping to give Greg some relief by changing. "Then we'll stay as
we are."
"I can't make him go away. He hates you. He wants me. He says I'll come. I..."
"Do you know who he is?"
"No. He says -- he says he's my alpha."
Anton snorted. "I am your alpha."
"Maybe I'm your alpha." Greg stared him down.
He growled softly. This side of Greg always surprised him, delighted him. And to have Greg do
it now, with all this going on...
"I don't think so." He stepped up close, challenging Greg.
Greg's eyes sparkled, but the man didn't back down, didn't back away. He grabbed a handful of
Greg's hair and tilted his head, bringing their mouths together for a hard kiss. Greg's lips tasted of
tears, so he pushed harder, licking, pushing into the soft mouth. Greg was his. Every bit of the
man. Feeding his growls of need into Greg's mouth, he rubbed their bodies together. Greg fought him, pushing, making him push back. Growling low in his throat, he pushed until Greg's back was up against the wall, his own pressing, rubbing. Greg's claws scraped up along his back, tearing at his skin.
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He howled into Greg's mouth, his body bucking. Greg bit at his lips, climbing his body. He tore his mate's clothes off, needing bare skin. "Anton. Fuck." Yes, that was exactly what he intended.
He bit at Greg's lips, fingers digging into skin as he touched. He would let there be no room for
anything but him. His marks. He stroked Greg's ink, needing his own mark on that fine skin.
"You need a wolf. Right here." He pressed the skin over Greg's heart.
"I need you to make everything go away."
"Yes. Mine." He was snarling again, mouth landing on Greg's chest, biting, tearing at the skin.
Greg howled, jerking away, and then coming back. He growled fiercely, biting again, hands
finding Greg's hips and holding on. His fingers dug in and he brought them closer together.
"Bastard!" Greg arched, grinding into him.
"And you love it." He lapped at the bite mark, the skin there hotter, the blood now closer to the
surface.
"Love you." He stopped, blinked. Stared into bright eyes. He knew it. He'd heard it. But it wasn't
something they threw out there all the time, and with Greg's head being played with it was
something to hold onto.
He put his head back and howled. "Yes, Mate. Love."
Greg rumbled, pushing him back toward the bed, slipping a little and landing beside him on the
mattress. He tugged Greg close, bringing their mouths together, repeating with his body what their mouths had just said. His hand landed on Greg's hip with a slap, his mate bucking, pushing into him. He touched Greg everywhere he could reach. This man was his. What was more, this werewolf was his, and nobody could take Greg away from him. Nobody.
He bit his way down Greg's chest. The lean muscles rippled for him, Greg pushing up, hips
humping restlessly. He spread Greg's legs with his hands, his mouth licking the wet-tipped cock
and then the heavy balls. Greg's motions eased, stilled, his lover panting. He rumbled, taking one
of those balls into his mouth, sucking on it.
"Yours. Mate. Anton. Please." The motions started again, careful and easy.
He switched to the other ball, tugging this one a little harder. Greg's muscles went tight, body
bucking a bit. Sweet little pain slut. He tugged harder, stretching the ball sac.
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"Yes." The single word burned between them.
When he let go of Greg's ball, he spread his mate's legs wider, teeth scraping along the soft skin
behind Greg's balls. The soft, warm sac rested on him, surrounding him with the scent of his mate. Groaning, he alternated touches with his tongue and his teeth, sinking into it. Greg started howling, calling out for him, over and over. He raised his head and howled back, answering his mate.
Greg rolled up, hands reaching for him. "More. More. I need more."
"I know. I'll give you what you need." He leaned back in and bit at Greg's ass, teeth and tongue
dragging over the wrinkled skin.
He could hear Greg's cries and he pushed harder, bit deeper. Wetting his fingers, he pushed one
into Greg's hole.
"More." Greg pressed back, riding him.
"Pushy." His mate could be so pushy. He loved it.
"See? I could be the alpha."
He laughed, and nipped Greg's inner thigh hard. "You could be. But you're not."
"Am." Pushing. Always pushing.
He bit again. "With anyone else, you are. But not with me." He stormed up Greg's body, cock
pushing in forcefully.
Greg opened up, took him in, riding him so hard that their skin slapped together. They kept the
speed and strength going, their bodies slamming together over and over.
"Don't let him have me." The word was bitten out, snarled.
"Never. You're mine." They mated for life.
"Yes. Yours. More."
"More." He could do more. He did, filling Greg.
The harder he thrust, the calmer Greg got, the more focused, more with him. Growling, he leaned
in and bit at Greg's neck, leaving a new mark just above his mate's Adam's apple.
"Yes." Greg nodded, sobbed once. "Yours."
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"Mine!" Anton put his head back and howled, his hips still snapping.
Greg's body worked him, muscles rippling, moving around his cock.
"Show me. Come." He held Greg's gaze, thrusting with all his strength.
He watched Greg's lip open, a soft, almost sweet moan sounding before heat sprayed in between
them. His mate's body clamped down hard on his cock, pulling his orgasm out of him. He
howled as he came hard, filling Greg. Marking his mate inside. His. His. His.
Greg moaned, eyes rolling, throat working. Leaning in, he wrapped his lips around the lurid
mark on Greg's throat, sucking on the heated flesh. The blood beat right beneath his lips,
throbbing against his tongue.
It was a perfect moment and Anton stayed there, breathing Greg in, feeling his heartbeat.
"Thank you. Mate."
He growled softly, the words making him happy. "Yes. Mate."
Greg nodded once, then relaxed, snoring almost immediately, sleeping hard.
His poor love. Anton began to tense up again, ready to snarl and growl over the situation, at what was happening to Greg. But he forced himself to calm down, to relax with Greg so that his mate
could sleep.
There would be plenty of time to rip someone to shreds when he actually had someone to target.
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Chapter Nineteen
He stood outside, letting the darkness pour down onto him, through him, into him. He could smell the new wolf, taste him in his teeth, and he continued whispering, carving marks into his skin to force the magics to continue, on and on. "Come to me." Damon moaned as the wind picked up, responding to him, the magics spinning and soaring all
around him.
"Come to me, Pup. There's someone here that needs you."
Someone who was going to tear the little wolf limb from limb.
Someone who hated Anton Lupi worse than death.
Someone who had his alpha, his lover, his Nix trapped. Chained. Bound and starving.
He groaned once and cut again, the obsidian blade going deeper, sliding into his skin. "Come to
me, Pup."
Now. Now, before Lars did something that was irrevocable and Damon lost himself, gave
himself over to the black magics.
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Chapter Twenty
The moon was new, dark. The urge to change should be nonexistent, but it was right there. It itched at him like a rash, like a series of bug bites. Nathan tossed his head and headed to the door, sniffing the air. Curious. Nathan padded back into the bedroom, staring at his mate, then headed back out to the door.
What was it?
What was up?
It was freezing out. The air cold and crisp -- almost sharp.
There weren't any tracks. No scents, but there was something. Something on the wind.
A sound from the door had him whipping around. Geoff was standing there in a pair of
sweatpants, tugging on his coat. "Nathan?"
He growled, muscling Geoff inside, everything in him screaming. "No. In. Mate. In."
Geoff didn't fight him, but his mate did frown. "What's going on, Nathan?"
"I don't know. I can't sleep. The wind is odd."
Geoff locked the door and drew him back into the bedroom. "You should wake me when you
can't sleep." There was a glint in Geoff's eyes.
"You looked comfortable."
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"So?" Geoff's fingers danced across his skin. "Goodness, you're hot. Even being naked outside didn't make you cold." "My skin is rarely cold." He rumbled softly, that touch addictive.
"I've noticed." Geoff pressed close, coat falling from his shoulders, and rubbed. He swore he
could feel Geoff's nipples harden against him.
"Are you... Are you trying to seduce me?"
"Yes." Simple and sure, Geoff's answer came with another rub. He could feel the heat of Geoff's
need behind the soft sweats.
"Good. It's working."
Geoff beamed up at him. "Excellent." Leaning in, his mate licked at one of his nipples, tongue
coming back to tease, flicking back and forth as his flesh hardened.
Nathan started to moan, his nipples drawn up to a tight peak. Geoff tugged off his sweats, and
when his mate pressed up against him again, it was skin on skin.
"More." His cock jerked, throbbed, balls aching.
"Always." Geoff's fingers slid over his nipples and curled up around his shoulders.
"I. Geoff." The little touches, the stings, the bites -- they drove him mad.
"That would be me." Oh, look how his mate's eyes twinkled. Leaning in, Geoff bit at his right
nipple, tongue soothing and then teeth biting again.
A growl burst out of him, passion flooding him.
A shudder moved through Geoff and his mate pressed closer. "That's very sexy."
He found himself flexing, rumbling softly.
"Mmm." Geoff licked at his nipple and then bit his way over to the other one. "Very sexy."
"I like how you bite." He liked it more than was healthy.
"Do you? I've never done it with anyone else."
"I do. You haven't?" Why not? It was wonderful.
"Not before you." Geoff leaned in and bit at his other nipple.
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He growled again, snarling low, tickled.
Groaning, Geoff pressed closer, rubbing their hips together. "You make me so hungry."
"You make me need."
"Yes." Geoff grabbed his arms and tugged him down onto the bed.
He bounced, legs and arms flailing a second. Geoff laughed, fingers dancing over his skin.
"Geoff!" He twisted, moaned under his breath, his attention completely caught.
His mate smiled at him, face looking younger than it had when Geoff had been in Lars' clutches.
The sudden, wicked glint was his only warning before Geoff pounced and bit at his right nipple.
Nathan bucked, cock bobbing, slapping his belly hard.
"Something's trying to get my attention," Geoff murmured, smile just as wicked as the look in his
eyes.
"Yes. Yes, Mate. Please." More attention.
Geoff pushed him so he was lying on his back, and began to kiss a trail down toward his cock,
tongue and lips lingering on his skin, tugging at the hair on his chest. Every so often Geoff would
bite, marking him. By the time Geoff finally made it to his prick, it was so hard he hurt, the head
dark red and leaking.
"Need." That was obvious, but he had to say it.
"I know." Still, Geoff only licked at the tip, and then followed the thick vein down with his
tongue.
He spread wider, balls drawing up, entire body tight.
Geoff moaned. "God, you smell amazing." Soft kisses graced his balls, and then Geoff licked
behind them, tongue sliding on smooth, sensitive skin.
"Yours." That single word ripped from him.
He could feel Geoff's smile against his thigh. "All mine?"
"Yes. I mate for life."
"For life." He could see the shock in Geoff's face. And then his mate smiled, face blissful.
"Okay."
He reached out, cupped Geoff's jaw. "Yes."
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Geoff nuzzled into the touch and kissed his palm. His fingers curled, instinctively, automatically. Whimpering, Geoff kissed him again. He panted softly, his wolf just beneath the surface. Geoff nuzzled his hand a moment or two longer, and then pressed between his legs again, tongue sliding over his hole. His teeth clacked together, his howl splitting the air, the sound echoing into his chest. Geoff whimpered again and began a tongue-lashing of the best kind, tongue slapping his hole over and over. His entire body rocked, the bed springs squealing, his pleasure too big to keep still. Then Geoff's tongue pushed into his hole, fucking him. Nathan grabbed his knees, pulled his legs up and out, offering himself wholly. Geoff didn't hesitate for a moment, face pressing against his ass, tongue working him hard. Yips and yowls poured out of him, his cock leaking on his belly. Geoff moaned and whimpered, each sound vibrating along his skin. "Please." He wasn't sure what he was asking for, only that he was asking. "Are you ready?" Geoff asked, moving up his body. "Yes." For anything. Everything. "Good." Geoff's cock nudged at his hole. His body opened as he bore down, taking Geoff in and in. Geoff pushed and pushed, sinking in deep. "Nathan. Oh, you feel good." "You. And you said you didn't like this." "I do with you." The words made him arch, made him smile. Geoff groaned and began to move, sliding in and out, filling him over and over. Together, they found a rhythm, in and out, in and out. Geoff's gaze stayed on his face, breath panting from Geoff's open mouth. He could see the pink tongue pushing against white teeth. His own tongue lolled out, toes curling. "Nathan." Geoff whispered his name like it was a prayer. "Yours." He squeezed that sweet cock tight. "Yes." The word was more breathless moan than anything else, Geoff's skin shining with sweat. He squeezed again, almost screaming with it. This time Geoff gave a guttural moan, body snapping, heat filling him deep inside. He rode out Geoff's orgasm, watching, panting as he drank up every second of it. Geoff collapsed down onto him, breathing hard, body sweaty. One hand patted him, almost absently.
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"See?" Geoff finally said. "Isn't that better than wandering around not being able to sleep?"
He nodded, taking Geoff's hand and putting it on his cock, begging the touch. "Mmmhmm."
"Oh, what's this?" Geoff laughed softly, fingers wrapping around him.
"A present for you." His words were thick, rumbling from him.
"Mmm. I'm a very lucky man." Geoff kissed him softly. "Do you want to do me, now?"
"I want to. I don't know if I can last..." He was so hard he hurt.
"Then I'll do this instead." Geoff slid back down his body and swallowed him up.
"Geoff!" He screamed, head slamming him back as he shot, his hips bucking wildly.
Geoff hummed and swallowed, taking him in. He could feel his mate's tongue licking all over his
cock. He moved idly, rocking up into the heat. Geoff kept licking and sucking him, adoring his
cock.
Soft sounds began pouring out of him, deep and rough. "If you keep me hard, I can make love to
you." He loved that, feeling his mate tight around him.
Geoff's whimper vibrated all along his prick, and the suction increased, Geoff working him.
"Yes. Yes, I will be inside you. Taking you. Loving you. Please, Mate."
Geoff's mouth suddenly popped off his prick, making him whine. The tube of lube was pressed
into his hands. "How would you like me?"
"Ride me. I want to see you."
Geoff smiled, fingers sliding on his chest as Geoff straddled his belly. "Then get me ready.
Mate."
The word made him growl, made his hips roll up. "Yes."
It took only seconds to slick his fingers, slide them deep into Geoff's body. Geoff's whole body
arched, his head dropping back on a moan.
"My fine mate. So strong." Geoff took his breath away.
"You're..." Geoff groaned as his fingers found his mate's gland. "You're strong."
"Yes." He was. Strong enough to keep his mate, love him.
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Geoff moved on his fingers, ass squeezing, tugging him in deeper.
"Love." He groaned low, whispering the word as he bent his fingers, rubbing against Geoff's
gland.
Low, wanton sounds poured from Geoff's mouth, the lovely body shuddering for him. He stroked
over and over, watching every move, every shiver of pleasure. Geoff's prick was hard again,
leaking for him and jerking every time he smoothed over Geoff's gland.
"Mine." He smiled, touching again.
"Yes!" Geoff's eyes met his. "I need you now, Nathan. Please."
"Now. Now, I'm ready." His cock was aching, burning.
Geoff rose up off his fingers and grabbed his cock, fingers guiding it to the little, prepped hole.
With a groan, eyes half closing, Geoff began to sink down on him. The tiny ring of muscles
scraped all along his shaft, working him.
When Geoff was finally seated down on his hips, the tight passage rippled around his cock as Geoff shuddered. His mate's hands rested on his chest, fingers opening and closing. They were joined. Nathan hummed, words lost, the only thing in his world Geoff's eyes, the pressure around his prick. They moved together, Geoff coming down onto him as he pushed up, thrust into the tight heat that felt like coming home. Geoff groaned, soft whimpers interspersing with the needy sounds. His hands landed on Geoff's hips, moving his lover up and down. "Nathan." Geoff moaned, hands covering his, the heat growing between them.
He nodded, moving them faster, harder. He could hear Geoff's breathing like a freight train,
growing louder as they moved faster. Moving one hand, Nathan took hold of Geoff's cock,
fingers moving steadily.
"Nathan!" Geoff bucked, crying out. His mate's body tightened around his cock.
"Yes. Yes." He slammed up into Geoff's body, head tossing.
"More. More." Geoff shuddered again.
"More." Thrusting over and over, Nathan fought to bring his lover off again.
The continuous shudders and sounds told him he was nearly there. He let his thumb drag over the
slit of Geoff's cock, smoothing the liquid there around.
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"Nathan!" Geoff shouted, body going tight around his cock as seed pushed up over his fingers.
His own orgasm answered his mate's, cock throbbing and jerking inside Geoff's body. Geoff
moaned and shivered, leaning down so they could kiss. Grunting, they kissed one another,
tongues sliding together. Geoff licked his lips, ass squeezing around his cock.
"Mmm. Mate." His.
Geoff kissed his cheek. "We gonna sleep now?"
"Yes. Yes, mate." He nodded, hand curling around Geoff's hip. "Sleep."
"Good."
Geoff kissed him again and then settled.
His eyes dropped closed, but even in his sleep his nose twitched.
Sniffing.
Just in case.
*** Nathan was driving him crazy. Something had his normally down to earth, rock solid and steady lover on edge. Geoff watched Nathan come back from yet another walk around the property, and when Nathan came in, Geoff
met him at the door.
"You're back. Good. Go sit." He nodded toward the couch.
"Sit?" Nathan blinked at him, head tilted.
"Yes. I have tea. And an attempt at scones, though I fear the oven wasn't hot enough. Sit. I'll be
there in a moment." He gave Nathan a little push.
Nathan bounced onto the sofa, settled. Geoff brought out the tray with the cups, teapot, and
scones and jam on it.
He set it down and sat next to Nathan, but on the edge of the couch. "I'll pour, shall I?"
"Sure. Sure, it smells nice."
He poured out their tea, adding a bit of honey and lemon to both cups. Then he passed Nathan's
cup over. "Careful, it's hot." Too hot to drink still, but it was nice to have it to hold in his hands.
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"Oh." Nathan's nostrils flared, his lover smiling.
He blew across the top of his cup and then took a cautious sip. A nice cuppa always settled him,
and today was no exception. "So," he began as he sat back against the couch. "Is everything all
right?"
"I think so. No. There's something on the wind." Nathan looked at him, blinked. "I mean, yes.
You're safe."
"Well, that was contradictory." He reached for Nathan's hand. "What's going on?"
"I don't know." Nathan looked into his eyes, so serious. "I know there's not another of my pack
out there, but... I think there might be someone Calling to me."
The way Nathan said it, Geoff could hear the capital letter.
"Calling to you? What do you mean?"
"The Northern Tribe. They can whisper for long distances. At least that's what I’ve heard said."
"Why would they Call you?" He still wasn't sure what Nathan meant by Calling and whispering
for long distances, but it was making Nathan edgy and that worried him.
"I don't know. The Northern Tribe wouldn't deal with Lars."
Well, that was one worry relieved.
"It is... Does it hurt?"
"No. It's like a smell you can almost recognize or a sound you can almost understand."
"I don't like the sound of it, Nathan." Someone Calling to his lover seemed wrong.
"I don't, either. I don't like it at all."
Geoff took several sips from his tea and shifted, sitting closer to Nathan. "Is there anything I can
do?"
"I swear, I won't let anything happen to you."
He reached out and curled his fingers around Nathan's arm. "I'm more worried about you,
actually."
"Me?" Nathan moved closer.
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"Well this thing, this Calling, I can't hear it at all, so it's obviously aimed at you. Is it trying to
hurt you? To drive you mad?"
"I don't know. I don't know what they want, but they can't have you."
"Well, they can't have you, either." Geoff was very sure about that. He'd been slow to come
round to this idea of mates, but had finally concluded that Nathan was his, no matter what it was
called. And that was that.
"You sound very sure." Nathan's hand slid against his thigh.
He covered Nathan's hand with his own. "I am. You are my mate."
"Yes." Nathan beamed at him, leaned in and stole a kiss. "I am yours."
Geoff nodded. The idea, while he accepted it, was still rather stunning. "And I believe that makes
me yours, as well."
"Every inch." He wasn't the only one who sounded sure.
Geoff carefully set his tea cup back down and then took Nathan's. Once it was safe, he pushed
into Nathan's arms.
"Thank you for the tea, Mate." Nathan moaned the words against his lips.
"You're welcome."
He could taste the tea on Nathan's lips, the slightly woody flavor covering the true taste of
Nathan's mouth. He licked and sucked and soon there was nothing there but the flavor of his
mate. It fascinated him, the way Nathan became lost in his kisses, lost in him.
He slid his hands beneath Nathan's sweater, eager to find the warm skin. Sweet fuzzy belly, tight,
hard nipples -- Nathan's body called to his fingertips. He loved how just his touch could make
Nathan's breath become choppy, and how sensitive Nathan's nipples were, the way they
responded to the gentlest touches.
They leaned back, Nathan easing him back atop the sturdy body. He fit perfectly on top of
Nathan, the solid body always so warm, supporting him, arousing him. He rubbed their groins
together, his growing cock met by a matching hardness.
"What will we do when the danger is over?" Nathan's hands slipped over his ass and squeezed.
"I don't know." He didn't like to think about that. His place was with Anton; he'd been the
man's... butler, for want of a better word, ever since he'd been a very young man. But he could
not imagine going anywhere if Nathan wasn't with him.
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"I will not leave you." Nathan was definite about it.
"Then we'll figure it out." He wasn't sure about wolf hierarchy, but hopefully he would be able to
continue working for Anton. Perhaps his employer would have something for Nathan to do as
well. "Do you know how much longer we'll be here?"
"I've got a call in to Andrea. She's in the city; she'll know when things are moving."
"I hope Anton and Greg are all right." Anton was more than just an employer; they were
practically family, and he'd been fond of Greg from the start, despite the funky hair and tattoos.
"I do, too. I know they are your family."
Geoff nodded. "Maybe -- maybe you'll come to think of them as family one day, too?" It was
easier to talk about things like this, lying on his lover, feeling this close.
"I don't know. I... it's different for us, you know? There's a hierarchy, and some wolves have to be alphas. Some have to be alphas and have the beta wolves bow to them." "Anton isn't into that. He lives alone." Geoff tilted his head. "Are you an alpha?" That would make things impossible between Anton and Nathan.
Nathan's cheeks heated, almost painfully. "No. No, Geoff, I'm sorry. I'm not."
Geoff tilted his head. "Why are you sorry? It's a good thing, at least as far as I understand how
things work. You won't challenge Anton, right?"
"No. Not unless he tries to claim you as mate. I would die before I denied you."
Geoff couldn't help it; he started to laugh.
Nathan blinked at him, chin tilting, the look almost hurt.
"Oh, Nathan, I'm sorry -- I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at the idea of Anton trying to
claim me as mate." He shook his head and managed to curb his amusement. "He's my boss. He has been for a very long time. There is nothing romantic between us. I love him, yes. Because he is my family. But no more. It could never be more." "Not for him? Because I know your heart."
"Aside from the fact that I served him for a very long time with never an inappropriate moment
between us, have you seen him with Greg? Anton only had eyes for Greg from the moment that
man walked in."
"No. No, I have never met your man."
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"You have nothing to fear from Anton when it comes to me, Nathan. I am yours and yours alone. There has never been anyone who has captivated me the way you have." "Good." Nathan's eyes were glowing, shining softly at him.
He wriggled, his body responding immediately. "Nathan. I can't think when you look at me like
that."
"Is that bad?"
"This isn't bad." He rubbed their hips together and then took a kiss. No, this wasn't bad at all.
Nathan opened up, tongue sliding against his. Moaning, he rubbed his tongue on Nathan's, then
slipped it into Nathan's mouth. His mate growled low, sucking on his tongue. One hand wrapped
around his head, stroking it.
Whimpering, needy, he tugged at Nathan's clothes. Why did the man always have to wear so
many clothes? Okay, so there was snow on the ground outside and a vicious wind howling
around their little cabin, but Geoff still resented every stitch that separated him from Nathan.
Fortunately for him, Nathan seemed to feel the same way, tugging at his clothes, pulling at his
sweater almost desperately. He got himself tangled up when he tried to pull Nathan's sweater off
while Nathan tugged his shirt over his head. "Wait. I'm caught up somehow."
Nathan chuffed softly, nose nudging his chest, his underarms, his... Nathan stopped, snarled low,
and suddenly he was being moved, dragged across the floor. "Stay quiet, Mate. Someone's out
there. Please. Silent."
He was pushed into the closet, still caught in the sweater.
He tried to be quiet, but he wasn't going to get caught all tangled up and not able to see. Trying
not to whimper, he tugged and pulled until he had the sweater off.
His breath sounded so loud in the little space. His heart beat even louder.
There wasn't any noise. Nothing.
Nothing.
What did that mean?
Nathan. Oh, God, if anything happened to his mate. He pressed his ear against the door, trying
desperately to catch any sound. Nothing. Nothing but the wind. What if Nathan was gone? Dead? Kidnapped?
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He slid his hand up along the door, finding the handle. Very, very slowly, he turned it. Nothing. The place looked exactly the same as it had a moment before, barring the open front door. The fire still burned, the tea was in the cups. He swallowed and put his sweater back on, shivering from more than just the cold air pouring in. He went down on his hands and knees and slowly crawled toward the front door, making as little noise as possible. Nathan groaned, the big body on the ground across the threshold. A tiny hand was across his mate's waist, the nails curved like claws. A soft, sibilant voice sounded. "I'm so sorry, but my das, both of them. He's killing them. I need your mate." "No." At the word, Nathan began to convulse. "Nathan!" Geoff ran, grabbing one of the logs by the door. He hefted it, intent on beating back whoever was hurting Nathan. Huge yellow eyes stared at him from a young girl's tear-streaked face. "I'll kill him. I'll kill him if you hurt me." He froze, hands still over his head, holding tightly to the log. "Stop hurting him." He hardly recognized his own voice as he snarled the words at her. "They have my das. Please." Geoff could suddenly see that she was scared. "Please." He used her word. "You're hurting Nathan. I need you to stop. Then you can tell me what a 'das' is, child." "My fathers. They stole Father and then my da, my da has to do awful things to save him and he forgot me and I'm scared and all I could remember from Da's dreams was him." "That's awful." Geoff made sure she was watching him. "Okay now, I'm going to put the log down, right here, nice and gently." He put the makeshift weapon down and held out his hands. "Please, now. I want to help you, but you have to stop hurting my mate. I can't help you if Nathan is hurting." "You'll help me? Promise?" The tears started again, the child shivering violently. "Yes, I promise. Now, please. Stop hurting him and come inside." He was going to scream if Nathan didn't stop hurting. He knew it wasn't possible, but it felt as if he were being beaten from the inside. "Okay." She petted Nathan's arm, just once, gently, and his mate relaxed, eased immediately. "I'm sorry. I am. I... I didn't want to sleep out in the dark again."
Bitten - 145
Geoff dropped to his knees and tugged at Nathan, pulling his mate into his arms. "Are you all right? Love?" "Geoff. Geoff, quiet. There's someone here."
"Oh, God, what have you done to him?" He dragged Nathan back into the house. "Shh, shh. It's
just a little girl who's lost."
Nathan took a deep breath, shook himself, then his eyes popped open. "Geoff? Where is she? She's one of the wittan pack -- the Northern Tribe. She Calls." "I had to, don't you understand?"
"Nathan, she's right here. Can't you see?" As he said the words, fear clutched at him. Nathan was
blind.
"I." Nathan reached for him, eyes rolling. "Geoff."
The girl backed away, eyes huge, mouth in an 'o'. "No. No, I didn't do it. I didn't do it."
Geoff clutched Nathan to him, glaring at the girl. "Stop that at once and fix him."
"I don't know how. I'm only new. I only started my training. Da is teaching me."
Oh, good lord.
"Will your da know how to fix him?"
"I think so. He knows everything. He's an elder. "
"You'd better come in and close the door." Before they all died of exposure. Being blind was,
after all, just a minor inconvenience, Geoff thought a little hysterically.
He forced himself to take several deep breaths, which pulled Nathan's scent into him. Not dead,
he said to himself. Not dead. It could be worse, so much worse.
"Geoff?" Nathan's heart was slamming against him, panic just barely held in check.
"It's okay, Nathan. It's all right. It's just a scared little girl who needs our help." A scared,
dangerous little girl. But Geoff was trying very hard to focus on the things that would keep him
going in the right direction. "What's your name, child?"
"Beryl." She was woefully underdressed for the cold, lips almost blue, and she headed for the
fire as he settled Nathan on the couch.
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"Beryl. I'm Geoff and this is Nathan." He wrapped a blanket around his mate and then tossed a second one to Beryl. "Apparently something has Beryl's fathers and she's all alone and scared. I don't think she meant to hurt you." Because, little girl or no, if she had meant it, Geoff would have retaliated. The fierceness of his feelings was a little scary. Nathan blinked. "Fathers? Where's your dam?" Beryl shrugged. "Mam died when she had me. I only know my das." "She's done something to your eyes, Nathan, but can't fix it. She says her fathers can. Who are your fathers, and why do you think we can help find them?" This was surreal. Of course, he'd thought that when he'd first been taken, too. He'd thought it couldn't possibly be real. Nobody would kidnap him. Only it was real. And now he was happy it had been -- he never would have found Nathan otherwise. "The bad men came and took my father away. That's when Da started doing the bad magic, the black magic. I saw you -- your face -- before Da's mind went so far away that I couldn't see anymore." "Mine?" He shook his head, fingers stroking soothingly on Nathan's skin. "I think it's time we went back, Nathan. Bad things are happening and there's nothing we can do out here. We can't even hide anymore." Not if a little girl could find them. "No. No, I can't protect you. I can't protect you like this." "How did you find us?" Geoff asked Beryl. "How did you know we were here?" "I Called. I Called and Called because I thought if I took you to them, they would give my father back and Da would come out of the darkness." "And you called us because you saw me in your Da's mind?" Why him? That's what Geoff couldn't understand. "Yes. You're the one who escaped. You were supposed to bring the alpha in to die. If the alpha dies, my father will be freed." Geoff felt his eyes widen. Someone was using this girl's father now to get to Anton. "We need to let Anton know. Nathan? You have a phone or some way to get in touch with Andrea, don't you?" Anton had to be warned. Something had to be done. "Yes. Yes, we have to tell them things have changed." Nathan looked dazed, ill. Scared.
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Geoff pulled Nathan close and rocked his lover gently. He hated that Nathan was hurt, was worried. "I think we should pack up and go back, Nathan." "I need to contact Andrea. I can't fight them, not like this."
"I have your back, Mate." Nathan needed to know that, needed to be able to count on him. He
might not be strong like Nathan, but for Nathan he could be fierce.
"I'm sorry. My da... I'm so scared."
Geoff nodded. "It's okay, child. I just wish you hadn't hurt him -- that wasn't necessary. We
would have helped you if you'd asked." He tried to make his voice comforting instead of angry,
but his heart and his gut were at war with his brain. A part of him wanted to lash out at the
person who'd hurt Nathan, no matter who they were or why they'd done it.
"He wasn't going to just let you come." She leaned closer to the fire.
"No, and I won't. I will not send him to die." Nathan didn't seem to have a problem growling at
all.
"My being taken last time didn't bring Anton, why would anyone think doing it again would?"
Really, if these people used their brains before trying to solve their problems...
"Because it should have brought him. It would have, had I not been there."
Geoff shook his head. "If Anton were smart he would have stayed away. Kept himself and Greg
safe."
"You don't understand. It's instinct. Protect the pack. He would have come."
"Well, I'm glad he didn't." Geoff kept petting Nathan. "Call Andrea, love. I want you made well
and we need Beryl's father for that."
"Can I... Are there any more cakes? I have a little bit of money." Each time he looked at the child, she seemed smaller almost, like her courage was fading. He nodded to the coffee table where the tray sat. He and Nathan hadn't actually managed to eat any of the scones. "Help yourself."
"Thank you. Thank you very much."
"She sounds very young."
"She is. How old are you, Beryl? Six?"
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"I will be, at midsummer." Who had let this child go out, on her own? Why had no one helped
her?
"She's not even six, Nathan. She's just a baby!" And starving, by the looks of her. "Would you
like some milk?"
"Milk?" She sounded like he was offering gold.
"I'll be back in a moment, Nathan. Stay here." He squeezed Nathan’s arm and then went quickly
to their little kitchen, grabbing the milk from the fridge and a glass. He took a couple of apples as
well. He went back and poured out a half a glass for Beryl.
"Oh." She burst into tears, face buried in her hands. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
He patted her back awkwardly. "It's okay, child." Oh, dear.
"It's not. It's not okay at all. I just want to go home. I just want my bed, my das."
"Yes. And I just want my mate to be able to see." Geoff regretted it the moment he'd said it. She
was such a wee thing, after all.
"I do, too. I didn't mean to. I just... They're hurting him."
Geoff closed his eyes, and took deep breaths, trying to find some sort of balance. He hated this.
He hated that Beryl's fathers were being hurt, and that Nathan was blinded, that Anton and Greg
were in danger. His life used to be so very ordered.
"Pup, drink your milk." Nathan's voice growled out, the sound less mean than oddly comforting.
The child moved immediately, drinking deep.
"You're good with kids." Geoff sounded as surprised as he felt.
"It's instinct. She's not a child. I mean, she is, but she's more wolf than human. A human child
this young couldn't survive all this."
Geoff supposed that made sense. There was so much about the wolf he didn't understand.
He wrapped his hand in Nathan's, holding on. "So, how do we contact Andrea?" He needed to do
that, to do something toward getting Nathan his eyesight back.
"The cell. She's under Andy."
"Where is the cell, Nathan?" He'd never even seen Nathan use it. He'd never really cared if they
had one or not. He'd been lost in his own little world. These woods, this cabin, and Nathan. Selfishly, he wanted it back.
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"In the top dresser drawer, in the back. I--" Nathan blinked. "I hope it's charged."
"I'll go see." He kissed Nathan gently, looking into his mate's eyes, hoping for something.
They were lovely, glowing, but they didn't follow him. Biting back his cry, he kissed Nathan
again and then hurried to the bedroom.
He found the cell phone easily enough, its charger sitting with it. He picked it up and tried to turn
it on, but it was quite dead. Shaking his head, Geoff brought it to the kitchen and plugged it in.
"It's going to take a few minutes to get enough charge to call out."
Nathan nodded, the man sitting incredibly still, a look of barely hidden panic on the pale face.
"I'm going to make some more tea." He surely could use some.
He set the kettle on the stove and then hurried back to Nathan's side, sitting and taking his mate's
hand. "I'm right here."
"I'm sorry." Nathan was curled into himself, hiding. "I'm sorry, Mate."
"This isn't your fault. Come here." He wrapped his arms around Nathan.
"I can't see." Nathan mouthed the words, shaking violently.
"I know, Mate, but I'm here and we'll figure it out, right?" He pressed kisses on Nathan's eyes.
"I can't see, Geoff." Soft sobs rocked Nathan's body. He looked over, but the girl was curled up
next to the fire, sound asleep.
"Come with me," he murmured, helping Nathan stand and tugging him along into the bedroom.
"Geoff." Nathan stumbled forward, following him.
He pushed the door they had never closed nearly shut, and led Nathan right to the bed. "I'm
going to show you, Mate. Show you what you can still see."
"I don't understand. I don't understand." A high, keening sound left his lover.
Geoff pressed his lips to Nathan's, swallowing the sound. Nathan moaned, hands wrapping
around his arms like bands of steel. "I have you, Nathan. I do. Trust me."
"Mate." The word was like a fervent prayer.
"Yes." He pressed kisses over Nathan's face. "Now, I want you to listen and tell me what you
hear?"
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"Mate?"
"Just take a minute to listen and tell me what you hear." He would make Nathan realize he had
more than just his eyes.
"Your heartbeat."
"So you know I'm here and you know I'm okay." He stroked Nathan's hair. "What else can you
hear?"
"The wood popping in the fireplace, the wind outside. The storm's getting worse."
"You could tell all that without seeing it. Now scent the air. What else can you tell me?"
Nathan lifted his face, the man's visage seeming to elongate a bit as his nose twitched. "Milk.
Tea. Wood. The pup. Thawing meat."
"That would be our supper." He kissed Nathan's nose and took the man's hands, bringing them
up to his face. "Now tell me what you feel."
"My mate." Nathan moaned, face a study in mingled agony and love. "My mate."
"You can see me with your fingers. You can smell danger and hear the storm coming."
Geoff pressed a kiss against Nathan's lips. Nathan opened to him, whimpering into his lips.
Moaning, he slid his tongue into Nathan's mouth. He could taste Nathan's tears and he pushed harder, knowing that his mate was scared, lost. Blind. Blind.
He tried to take that fear into himself, swallowing it. His hands slid over Nathan's shoulders. His
lover was so strong. Nathan would get through this.
"Mate." Nathan rolled atop him, covering him.
He arched up into Nathan's body, his hands stroking over his mate's hot skin.
"I need you. I need to be able to keep you safe."
"I believe you still can, Nathan. You're still strong and all your other senses work."
He put his hands behind Nathan's head and brought it down so their mouths met again. Nathan's
kiss burned him to the ground, tongue sweeping into his mouth, licking his lips. Moaning, he opened wider, accepting Nathan into him. Whatever Nathan needed, he would give. The touches he received were almost wild, desperate, Nathan's hands dragging over him like his mate was starving for him.
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"Yours," he whispered. "I'm yours, Nathan."
"Yes. My mate. Love." Nathan nodded, moaned low.
"Yes. Yes." He wrapped a leg around Nathan's waist, holding on.
"What if it doesn't come back? What if... Mmm." Nathan's cock rubbed along his thigh.
"It'll come back." He pushed up against Nathan.
"Swear it?" His lover started to get hard, cock hot against his leg.
"I swear it. I will not stop until you can see." He would do whatever it took.
"Touch me. I want. I want to be inside you. I want to mark you so they cannot take you away
from me."
He reached his hand between them, tweaking Nathan's nipples, playing with them. "Inside me,
Nathan. Yes. I want to feel you."
"Yes." Nathan tugged at his clothing, his shirt. "Now. Mate."
He helped, pulling Nathan's pants down and lifting his arms so his sweater could be pulled up
over his head. Nathan's hands moved over him furiously, dragging over his skin, looking at him. He pushed into the touches, offering himself to Nathan, wanting everything Nathan would give him. The warm lips traveled down his body, tongue tasting him, fingers parting his legs, tugging his clothes away. Once naked, he spread for Nathan, wanton and needy. Nathan's mouth was on his belly, biting his skin, teeth dragging on him.
He bucked and jerked. "Nathan. Oh."
"Love." Another sobbing moan, another bite, Nathan was marking him.
"Yes, Nathan. Please." His legs moved restlessly.
That tongue dragged over his hole, the motion scalding hot, so very wet.
"Yes. Please, Nathan. I want you. I want you so badly." It was all he could think of.
"Now." Nathan pushed up, opening his thighs.
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"Yes!" He grabbed for Nathan's shoulders, holding on tight.
That heavy cock pushed into him, speared him, filling him up without the slightest hesitation.
The stretch and burn felt amazing, intense. He whimpered, pushing their mouths together.
Nathan was crying out, mourning, loving him.
He grabbed Nathan's arms, fingers curling around the. "More. Faster."
"Faster." Nathan started slamming down into him, fucking him with a strength, a focus that made
him wild.
"Yes!" He cried out, holding on tight as Nathan took him on the ride of his life.
"Mine." Nathan howled, head back, throat working.
"Yours, yes. Yes." The bed creaked and rumbled, the headboard hitting the wall each time
Nathan pushed into him.
Nathan pushed deep, then jerked, cock swelling inside him. Geoff squeezed tight around
Nathan's cock. Heat poured into him, Nathan marking him deep inside.
"Yes. Nathan. Yes." Geoff reached between them and grabbed his own cock, jacking it quickly.
"Love. I will not fail you. I swear." Nathan's hands joined his own and moved them both faster,
harder.
"I believe you." He barely got the words out before he was coming, his body bucking and
squeezing tight around Nathan's cock again. Nathan slumped down on top of him, panting
against his neck. He wrapped his arms and legs around Nathan, holding on tight. "I've got you,
Nathan."
"I'm scared." The words were the barest whisper.
"That won't stop you from being strong, though, from keeping me safe."
"No. No, it won't stop me. I have you."
"And I have you. So everything's going be all right. We'll figure it out."
"Okay. Okay. We will." Nathan whimpered softly, nuzzled his throat.
"Shh, love. Shh. I have you. I do." Geoff blinked hard to keep the tears from spilling.
"I'm so sorry." The sun was setting, the room going dark.
"This isn't your fault. Shh, now. Rest. Things will look better in the morning."
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It wasn't until hours later that he realized what he'd said.
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Chapter Twenty One
He couldn't see.
"Nathan? What's wrong?" Andrea sounded exhausted, worn. Snarly.
The full moon was coming and he couldn't see.
"They've kidnapped one of the Northern ones. A seer. Or a seer's mate. Something."
"What?" Nathan could hear her snap to, giving him her total focus. "What do you know? Tell me
everything."
He started with the Calling, the wind, Beryl's -- little Beryl who was sitting in the cabin, eating
cookies and drawing, chattering at Geoff and he couldn't SEE -- attack. Her story. "I don't know
what to do now."
"I think I'm starting to get a clearer picture of what's going on. I've had a similar phone call with
Anton. Someone is trying to Call Greg to Lars. We didn't know what it was, but with this new
information..." Her voice faded for a moment, and then snapped back. "We need a plan."
"Okay." He shrugged, trying to figure out how to tell her he couldn't see. That no matter how
much he blinked and washed his eyes and stared, there was nothing but a pale wash of gray.
"What do you want me to do?"
"I think we're going to have to come together to fight this, but let me make some calls and do
some research first. You just keep your eyes open for anything else."
He sobbed under his breath, swallowing hard. "Should I keep the pup here?"
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"Yes. She may come in handy." Andrea's voice lowered. "Have you told me everything, Nathan?" "I..." He ducked his head, growling a bit. "Nathan, I don't have time to play here. If you've got something to say, spit it out." "I don't have anything to say." He knew she could hear the lie. "Don't you lie to me, Nathan. I need to know that I can trust you and Jackson." "I can't see." Bitch. Fucking pushy bitch. There was silence for a long moment. "Literally?" "Yes. She did something to my head. I can't see." Anything. At all. "Oh, Nathan. Can't she fix it?"
"No. She says her father can. She hopes."
"Well then, that gives us even more incentive to get this little problem taken care of, doesn't it?"
She sighed. "It might also change our plans. Do you need help there to keep Jackson safe?"
"No. No, he's mine. Fine." He couldn't stop his growl.
"Nathan?"
"What?" What he wouldn't give to be the alpha.
"Is there something else you need to tell me?"
"I won't let anyone hurt him. Ever. I swear it."
"You've mated with him." It wasn't a question.
"Yes." He wouldn't deny it.
A long silence followed his words, and then finally Andrea sighed. "What's done is done. Does he feel the same way?"
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"Fuck you. Don't you treat me as if I'm a pup who doesn't know his way around a pack. I've been working alone for years; I'm not a child." How dare she? How fucking dare she question him as if he was made to answer her? "And don't you forget who you're talking to!" She snarled right back at him. "I'm the alpha bitch around here and don't you forget it!" "You're not my bitch. Don't you forget I risked my life doing you a favor!" His hand squeezed the phone. "He's my mate. I don't require your permission." "No, that is true enough. And I did not mean to imply anything. The timing could not be worse, Nathan. Look. We need to make plans. I need to call Anton and warn him about the dark magics being used. I don't know if I need you to stay there and prepare for more guests or if you'll all need to come here. Leave the phone on -- I will call you back." "We'll be here." He barely had the self-control to close the phone and not destroy it. He placed it beside him, the howl building inside him. Moments later, soft steps sounded behind him. "Nathan?" His mate's hands slid over his shoulders from behind. "You called?" He panted, keeping the wolf down, quiet. "I did. She's going to call back after she talks to your alpha." "My alpha? You mean Anton. He's my employer, my family. Not my alpha." "Right." Nathan stood up, paced forward a few steps before stumbling, something hitting his knee. Geoff was right there, arm going around his waist to steady him. "I had an idea. We could make a tour of the cabin and you could count the steps between things. That way you could walk around without... bumping into things." He shook hard, that white-hot, blinding -- oh, wasn't that funny? -- rage welling up inside him. "How can you be so calm?" "Because if I am not, I will fall to pieces, and then how can I help you?" "I can't..." He stepped forward again, growling, snarling. The wolf was right there, screaming to come out. He heard a series of little barks, whimpers from the pup. "Tell me what to do, Nathan. Tell me what you need. I'll do anything. Anything." Nathan howled, dropping to his hands and knees, the wolf responding immediately to the panic in Geoff's voice. His changing hurt; he fought it the entire way. Once he was altered, though, he barked, head up, scents crashing into him.
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Geoff dropped to his knees, arms going around him, fingers working into his fur. He nuzzled his
mate, chuffing and licking, filling himself with the flavors.
Geoff laughed a little, face rubbing against his muzzle.
Mate.
He danced a bit, then headed over to the new pup, sniffing and licking, making her smell like
them.
"Isn't he beautiful, Beryl?" He could hear the pride in his mate's voice.
Unafraid, the pup wrapped in close, vocalizing, calling to him.
I'm sorry. She spoke so clearly in his mind, so young, so scared, that he couldn't snarl and snap.
Shh. He growled softly, sniffing her throat, her jaw. Ease yourself.
Geoff settled on the couch; he could feel his mate watching him with the pup. "There. We're
going to be all right. We're all going to get through this."
He curled around the pup, protecting her, surrounding her until the smell of her fear faded. Geoff
joined them on the floor in front of the fire, his mate's head resting on his flank, hands sliding
over his fur.
He stretched and panted, licking and nuzzling his mate, easing the panic. He could smell danger.
He could protect them. Like this. The smell of fear and panic disappeared, his mate's hands
stilling, just resting on him.
The pup curled into him, tiny hands in his fur, and her breath evening out as she dozed off.
"You should sleep, too, Nathan. Rest while it's quiet."
He barked once, leaning to lap at his mate's face.
Geoff laughed softly, hands sliding over his muzzle. "You're so beautiful, Nathan."
Preening, he rolled a bit, showing Geoff his belly.
"Yes, very beautiful." Geoff's fingers scratched and petted his belly, rubbing so good.
Beautiful. Strong. Good wolf.
He was a good wolf.
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"Your fur is so soft, but you're so strong underneath it." It was like his mate heard his thoughts.
Chuffing softly, he arched, tongue lolling. So strong.
"Mmm." Geoff's cheeks slid along his belly, Geoff's cheeks rubbing against him.
Mate.
He could sing his pleasure for hours.
His mate.
His Geoff.
His lover.
"Nathan." Geoff whispered his name, hands stilling in his fur, resting over his heartbeat. "I love
you."
He rumbled happily, ears twitching as he listened to Geoff's heartbeat.
For this moment, nothing else mattered.
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Chapter Twenty Two
"Greg."
He moaned, wandering along the lake shore, shivering inside his coat.
"Greg, come to me."
"Leave me alone." He loved Anton. Anton was his mate. He wasn't going anywhere.
"I made you."
Greg shook his head, moving into the water.
"Greg!" Anton's voice cut across the water. "What are you doing? You're going to freeze to
death!"
"What?" He looked back, up to mid-thigh, now.
"Come out of there before you get hypothermia!" Anton paced at the water's edge.
"I." What was he doing? Why was he in the water?
Anton started wading in after him, reaching for him. He moved as quickly as he could, his feet
and legs feeling heavy.
Anton grabbed hold of his arm and tugged him out, pulling him along back toward the house.
"What were you doing?"
"I don't know. Trying to wake up." Sleep. Something.
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"In the water? It's freezing!" Anton hurried them toward the house.
"I'm sorry. I just. I don't know. He wants me to come." Greg just couldn't figure out where.
Anton growled. "He needs to leave you alone. You're mine."
"I know!" But the voice kept arguing.
The cold was starting to bite into him as they made it to the house, Anton slamming open the
door.
"Get naked."
"W...w...w...what?" Naked? He was cold.
Anton had started removing his own clothes, but he stopped to pull his coat off. "You're soaking
wet. Get naked. Now."
"B...b....bossy." His fingers were stupid, slow. Clumsy.
Come to me, Greg. I'll help you.
"Stop it. I belong here."
Anton growled at his words, tearing his shirt as he pulled it open and dragged it off.
"Anton!" He could feel the burn of those claws on his chest.
"You need to get your wet clothes off. Now." Going to his knees, Anton dragged his pants down
his legs.
Greg’s muscles were trembling, trying to cramp. "Maybe you should let me go."
Anton stilled. "What? You're talking to him, aren't you?"
"He won't let me alone. He's inside me, Anton." Always talking. Always muttering.
"We'll figure it out. We'll make him go away." Growling, Anton got the rest of his clothes off
and dragged him over to the fire.
"Promise? You swear it?" He stood and shivered, shook.
"I swear it. You're mine and he can't have you." Anton sat on one of the big chairs by the fire and
pulled on his arm. "Lie over my lap."
"What?" Was Anton crazed?
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"You heard what I said." Anton patted his thighs. "I'm going to warm you up and drive that
asshole from your head at the same time."
"What? No." His prick jumped, tried to fill.
Anton grabbed his wrist and tugged him in for a hard kiss. "Yes."
"No." He let himself growl, push, fight it. It felt good, to just snarl and make Anton take what
was his.
Anton pushed him down across the strong thighs, holding him down. "Yes."
"No!" Fighting hard, Greg panted, kicked, growling under his breath.
"Yes." Anton's hand landed on his ass.
He screamed, head slamming back, feet kicking. "Don't!" Oh, God. Mate. Don't stop. More.
"Okay." Anton's hand landed on his ass again.
"Fuck you." He moaned, spreading a little, begging. Harder. Please.
Anton shifted a little, just enough to settle his prick between Anton's legs. Then another smack landed on him. "Why are you doing this?" He felt more and more like himself with every stinging blow. He liked to play hard. He liked to play. He fucking loved this. "Because you're mine and we both want it." Anton's hand kept coming down, his ass beginning to burn.
"How do you know I want it?" His hips were rolling now, pushing up into each blow.
Anton chuckled. "Because you're burning a brand on my thighs with your cock."
"Fuck you. Don't laugh at me." He grinned, though, able to take a deep breath.
"With you, Mate. I'm working with you, laughing with you." Anton's hand hit harder.
"More. You make him quiet." Andrea had said stay, keep it together. It wasn’t so easy, but Anton
helped make it quiet.
"That's because I am your mate." Anton painted his ass with fire, both cheeks and the tops of his
thighs.
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"Yes. Mine. Please, Anton. I need him to stop."
"Me, too. We'll stop him." Over and over, Anton's hand landed. "Together."
"Anton." He bucked and rolled, heart pounding, cock hard as bone.
"That's right, Greg. Anton. Your mate. Your lover."
"Mine. More." He tried to pull away, his body aching.
Anton gave him what he wanted, what he needed, the heat between them growing. A howl
pushed out of him, deep and scared and sad and filled with all the things he felt.
"Mate." He could hear the howl in the single word, Anton responding to him.
"Need. Please. Please, Anton." He needed something else, something more.
"I've got you."
"Help me."
"Yes."
Anton pushed him down onto the floor, following him, tongue pushing into his ass. He pressed
back, almost crawling on the floor, fingers scrabbling on the wood. Everything in him seemed to
burn.
Anton tongue-fucked him for a moment or two and then rose up over him, cock pushing in. Greg
stopped, braced himself, and let Anton take him hard. Anton's fingers wrapped around his hips,
pulled him back with such strength.
"Yours." His ass was on fire.
"Yes." Anton hissed and pushed into him harder, their bodies slapping together.
"Tell me. Say it. I'm yours." He needed that voice echoing inside him to know it.
"You are. Mine. My mate."
"Yours." He panted hard, eyes rolling. "Do you hear him? He won't let you win."
"That's right. Mine. Mine. Mine." With every word, Anton thrust in deeper.
"Yours. Yours, please." He needed everything -- Anton's fury, his love, his heart.
"Mine!" Anton growled, fingers digging into his hips, nails biting into the skin.
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He came with a cry, seed spraying over the floor, his ass clenching around Anton’s heavy cock.
Anton's howl echoed in the air as heat pumped into his ass, his mate marking him deep inside.
He relaxed, his ass burning with it. Anton lay down against his back, heavy and solid on him.
"Yours." He nodded, making himself small under his mate.
Anton's hands stroked and petted him. "Yeah. Through and through. All mine."
"Don't let him take me away from you." Greg didn't even know who he was.
"I won't. Nobody will take you away from me." Anton sounded so sure, holding him close.
"They want to. They want to hurt you." Like this, filled and held and hot, Greg thought he could
almost see the wolf calling to him -- pitch black and sad.
"I won't let them take you, Greg. You know what it's like now that you've got the beast in you. You can feel our connection. We mate for life." "Then why do this?"
He heard the voice, clear and desperate and loud, ringing inside his head. "Because we mate for
LIFE!"
Anton growled loudly and then shouted. "Leave us alone! He's mine!"
"You heard him, too." He panted softly, almost excited. "You did. You heard that."
A shiver went through Anton. "I heard something. Not words, but... something."
"He's so angry. Why is he angry with us? We didn't do anything..."
"We fought back. We killed the wolf who took you and his minions. And I'd do it again." Anton
snarled and growled. "You are mine and he needs to learn that."
"If we killed him, who is this?" He didn't understand.
"I don't know." Anton growled, biting at his neck. "Andrea said the one we killed wasn’t the
boss. There’s this Lars. This is something different, but connected. Now hush." His mate thrust
into him, hips smacking his ass, making it sting.
"Burns." His neck throbbed, so good.
"Mmmhmm." Anton's tongue dragged over the mark.
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There was a scar building there, thick and tender, almost ropy. He'd never be able to hide it. Anton kept nibbling there, licking and sucking, teeth occasionally biting. It wasn't said out loud, but the word "mine" accompanied every touch. He squeezed tight, ass working Anton's cock. The murmuring in his head continued, constant, low, background noise. Anton growled softly, a tiny bit louder than the voice in his head as Anton's hips circled, moving the thick cock inside him. "You're still hard." It didn't surprise him; it couldn't.
"For you -- always." Anton bit sharply at his earlobe.
"Anton." He blinked, that voice dimming again.
"Greg." Anton thrust once, and then went back to circling, fingers finding one of his nipples and
twisting it.
"I... I need you. I need this. I need." He was fucking babbling. He hated babbling.
"I need it, too." Anton wasn't babbling -- Anton was growling, voice low and rumbly. Sexy and
possessive.
"I'm going to take you. I'm going to take you from him and make you..."
Greg shook his head and Anton snarled, driving it back.
The slow circling of Anton's hips gave way to thrusting, each push hard and solid inside him. It
felt perfect, filling him up, driving inside him over and over. Anton continued to vocalize, soft growls and sharp yips. The fingers of one hand slid to his nipples, tugging and pinching and twisting them. Greg moaned, belly going tight as Anton touched him, pinched him hard. He could feel Anton's
nose at the back of his neck, sliding on his skin, Anton scenting him.
"I want to... I want to cook for you."
"After this."
"Yes. I want so much."
"Always. Forever. Mate. Want." Anton bit into his neck again.
This time he jerked, moaned deep in his throat, and pulled away. "Damn, that stings."
"Means you're mine. No one else can have you." Anton snarled, slamming into him.
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"Fuck. I don't want to be anyone else's."
"You aren't." Fingers wrapped around his cock, Anton fisting him.
"This is a... a circular... uh..." Wait... What was he saying?
"No, this is circular." Anton went back to rolling his hips.
"I. damn it, Anton. I can't think."
"You're not supposed to!" Anton growled at him and went back to straight-on fucking, pounding
into him.
"Fuck!" His asshole was going to be sore tomorrow. Bruised. Stretched.
Between that and the spanking, he wasn't going to be able to sit. He wouldn't be able to forget
this for a minute. His prick pushed through Anton's fist with every thrust, his mate growling and
snarling, taking him.
"Bite me." Come on, asshole. Send me over the edge.
Growling, Anton did exactly as he'd asked, teeth closing over the wound in his neck, digging in.
Greg shot so hard things went fuzzy and dim, his muscles clenching, spasming.
When things had unfuzzied, he was lying on his side, spooned up against Anton. One of Anton's
hands lay possessively over his belly.
He blinked, nice and slow, staring at the fire. "I need to sleep."
"Then sleep. I have your back."
He opened his mouth to say thank you, but he was already asleep.
*** Anton dozed with Greg for awhile, and then he slipped away, grabbing the phone as he headed to
the bedroom.
He dialed Andrea's number. He needed this to be over. Now. Greg needed it to be over.
"Anton. How’s Greg?" Simple. To the point.
"It's getting worse. Today I caught him wading out into the lake. He didn't even realize he'd done
it." The words growled from him. Over. He wanted this over.
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"I heard from the wolf who has your man. The Northern Tribes have become involved, Anton.
The Seers. We have to do something."
"The Seers? What do the Northern packs have against me? We've never done anything to them. I
certainly haven’t." Anton had always kept to himself. Always.
"Nathan says the Lars pack took the shaman's mate. They are torturing the man. Nathan has his
child."
What.
Wait.
"What the hell's going on, Andrea?"
"I don't know, but I know we have to figure it out, and soon. The child's taken Nathan's sight."
This was getting completely fucking out of hand, and the alpha in him snapped and growled.
"All right, Andrea. It's about time we meet this head on." Just because he preferred to keep to
himself and be civilized didn't mean he was going to let someone continue to harass him and his
people. "I'm going to take this asshole down."
"What?" He could hear the shock in Andrea's voice.
"I've had enough, Andrea. My mate is losing his mind. Nathan is blind. There's a lost child,
Jackson is God knows where. I want my life back and I'm taking it."
The line was silent for a moment, and then Andrea chuckled wryly. "I'm surprised it took this
long."
"Don't you laugh at me, Andrea." He snarled into the phone. "You know I hate this kind of
thing."
"Either be the alpha and take your city back or quit growling."
"We'll be there in two days. I want everyone at the farm. Have Nathan bring that child, and you
see how badly the Northern Tribes want her back. If one of their Seers is helping Lars' pack, then we need one of them on our side to fight on that front." "I'll see what I can do, Anton." "You do that. Tell them we'll form an alliance if you have to, use the kid as a bargaining tool -they don't need to know we won't harm the pup." The anger was rising in him, taking over everything else. "And tell anyone who doesn't show that they're out of the pack. I need everyone behind me on this."
Bitten - 167
Andrea chuffed softly. "Are we having a war, Anton?" "We're having a war, Andrea. Enough is enough. I didn't start this, but I'm sure as hell finishing it." "After all this is done, I want to have your baby." Bitch. "Fuck off, Andrea." She sighed dramatically. "We could use the turkey baster." He could hear her mate in the background, snarling. "Don't even joke about it." The last thing he wanted to have to put down a member of his own
pack for challenging him. Not to mention the fact that he had no desire for a pup.
"I'll see you in two days. Be ready to fight. Make sure..." She sighed. "Make sure Greg is ready."
"He'll be ready. He wants this gone more than I do." And he wanted it gone very badly.
"I imagine so."
He could hear Greg, awake again, pots clanging in the kitchen.
"I have to go. Two days. Make sure everyone is there, Andrea. Everyone."
"Everyone. We'll take the pack lands back."
The city -- pack lands. Christ.
Times had changed. Their kind needed to blend in better than this, or do as the Northern Tribes
did and set themselves aside from society.
"Two days."
Anton hung up on Andrea and headed for the kitchen, slipping the phone into his pocket.
He stopped, stared. Greg was sleeping -- eyes closed, face slack, moving through the kitchen
creating food.
Jesus Christ. He didn't know whether to scream or cry. Did he wake Greg up, or just watch and
make sure his mate didn't burn the place down?
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One thing he knew for sure -- going back to put an end to this once and for all was the right thing
to do.
"I love him. I can't come with you." Greg murmured softly, pulling a steak out of the fridge. "No,
I mean it. I'm sorry your mate is hurt, but I can't leave Anton."
He growled low, but didn't wake Greg. The more information they could gather, the better off
they'd be when it came to the hunt.
The stove came on, Greg nodding. "I can't let you do this. Help us. Anton found me. Anton will
help you; we can get him back for you."
He sidled up behind Greg, let his mate feel his warmth, his strength. "Where is his mate?" he
whispered.
Greg stilled, leaned back into him. "The invaders took him." That wasn't Greg's voice.
A shiver went through him. Jesus fuck.
"Where are they?"
"They have a compound. They have my lover. They've stolen our daughter. I must have them
back. I cannot survive without him."
"We can work together against them." This was the craziest thing Anton had ever done.
Greg had a knife. In his hand. It gleamed in the moonlight.
"They're killing him. If I stop, they'll kill him."
"We're going to get your mate back. We leave at midnight. Two days. You have to help us."
Damn it, they were on the same side here. Lars was his enemy and the enemy of this one who was trying to tear Greg from him. The knife started moving, sliding from hand to hand. "How?"
"Can you make it look like you're still trying hard to get my mate to go to you while actually
backing off?" He needed Greg on this one, and not out of his mind, either.
"You swear, on his life, that you'll help me?"
"I do. My war is not with you. It's with the ones who have robbed us both."
"If my mate dies, I'll take this one from you. I'll have no choice. The thing is in motion, but I will
help you."
Bitten - 169
He wouldn't let anyone have Greg, but he kept that to himself. "Good. Where's the compound?"
"I don... The trees. In the trees."
Greg jerked a bit, reached for the pan. "I have to cook Anton's steak."
"Okay, Greg. Okay. Two days, we fight in two days."
"I have to cook Anton's..." Greg shuddered. "Two days."
Anton wrapped around Greg. "Greg? Mate?"
"Anton. You're hungry. I -- I'm so fucking tired, man."
"I know. Two days, mate. It'll all be over in two days."
"Two days. What happens in two days?"
"We start a war."
Bitten - 170
Chapter Twenty Three
Beryl was in the back seat, Nathan sitting next to him, and they were headed back to Andrea's. Geoff had the instructions on a sheet on the dashboard and was maneuvering the Jeep Nathan had rescued him in down the hills toward the city. Nathan still couldn't see, and from what he understood they were on their way to what amounted to a war.
A huge part of him wanted to turn the car around and drive as far away from Andrea's farm as he
could.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked Nathan, needing to hear Nathan's voice.
"This is... I'm scared, a little. Are you sure this is the right thing? Taking her closer?"
"Me? I'm just doing as I've been told." He reached out and took Nathan's hand, squeezing it,
holding on. If his beautiful wolf, who'd been so strong for him, was scared, where did that leave
him?
As if Nathan heard him, his mate straightened. "I've heard of your alpha -- he has money, power,
strength. I have you."
"You do have me, Nathan. I never expected this, never looked for it, but I would not give it up
for anything now that I have it."
"Good. Even if... even if this..." Nathan waved his hands in front of his face. "Is permanent?"
"It isn't. But even if it is -- it doesn't matter."
"No. We mate for life."
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"I like the way that sounds, Nathan. It makes me less scared, knowing no matter what, you're with me." "Nathan is a very good wolf." Beryl's little voice piped up from the back seat.
"Yes, he is. He's the best wolf I know." Perhaps it was disloyal of him, but he'd never seen Anton
revel in the wolf, really be it, the way Nathan did. His mate knew who he was.
Nathan made a soft, low rumbling sound. "Watch the road, Mate. They might still be looking -- I
don't think so, I think they're focused somewhere else."
"I am watching the road. But I like that sound when you make it." It made him forget they were
in trouble, at war, whatever you wanted to call it. It made him just want.
"It's his call." The little voice piped up again. "It's how he calls his packmates."
"What?" Geoff glanced back at Beryl in the rearview mirror.
"It's his call; that's why you like it." She sounded so matter-of-fact.
"I'm not a wolf, though." He liked it because the sound meant Nathan loved him, felt his love in
return.
"You're still his."
Nathan chuckled. "Yes. Mine. My mate."
"Well, yes." He wasn't going to argue that point. And wasn't Beryl too young for all this talk of
mates?
Nathan grinned. "Her pack is much more comfortable with the wolf, Geoff. She has a different
world."
The snow was coming down again, harder, making it hard to see. He slowed down significantly,
watching the road like a hawk to make sure he didn't go off into a ditch. "She's known it all her life, I suppose." "Yes. I grew up with a pack in the woods -- but they sent us into the towns as children, to learn." "Really?" He spared a glance at Nathan. "For the longest time I believed Anton was the only one of his kind." "There aren't many of us, but there's enough. Too many, for the cities."
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"Do you have family?" The snow was coming down even harder now and he slowed down some more, until they were going at a snail's pace. "I do. Two sisters, my grandmother. Many nieces and nephews."
He didn't know why he was surprised, but he was. "Really? I guess you seem so lone wolfish."
Or maybe a couple of months of knowing Nathan wasn't enough time to judge.
"I'm a male and... I explained about the alpha situation. The one that runs our pack isn't accepting
of other males without females."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Nathan. It must be hard to be away from your family like that."
"It was. It's not now."
Warmth filled him at Nathan's words. "Thank you, love."
Nathan reached for him, stroking his thigh. Comforted, half of his family here with him, he kept
driving, making for where they'd meet up with the other half.
"The storm is getting worse." Nathan's nose was twitching.
"Yes, it is. I can hardly see the road."
"Well, that means they have less of a chance of seeing us, too."
Smiling, he nodded. "You're right -- I hadn't thought of it that way." He tightened his hold on the
steering wheel, keeping his speed low.
"Will we stop for the night?" Beryl sounded scared.
"I don't know. Nathan?"
"I... It depends on the weather, I suppose. There's a car that will be waiting for us. Andrea's
mobilizing people."
"We'll keep going, then, until I need to stop." Whether they pulled over here and waited out the
storm or did it in an hour didn't really make much difference, and if he kept going, there was the
same chance they'd make it to the rendezvous.
"Just take care of yourself." Nathan reached back to Beryl. "You try to rest, little girl."
"I'll stop if I get too tired, Nathan. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you and the girl because
of me." He focused completely on the road, propelling the car slowly forward. He pushed his worries and concerns away. They didn't matter right now; getting there did.
Bitten - 173
"Tell me about your alpha." Nathan's voice was pitched low, comforting.
"You mean Anton? He's a good man. A loner, really, despite his public persona, until Greg
turned up."
"Greg's his mate?"
"Yes. Dorso took him and turned Greg into a wolf. Anton rescued Greg. And that's when I got
taken." He shivered. He didn't like to think about his time in Lars’ prison.
"That sounds less than fun, Mate, but I was there."
"You were. You saved me."
"Yes. Thank the moon." Nathan sounded like it was a prayer.
"So I guess I owe Lars a thank you?" It was an odd thought. Would he and Nathan have met
otherwise?
"No. No, I don't believe you do. I owe him, though." Nathan's teeth bared, the air in the Jeep
suddenly heavy, thick.
"Nathan. I don't want you to be hurt."
"He has to pay for all he's done."
"I don't want him to pay with your life."
"No. No, Mate. I don't want to pay that price, either."
"Good. You've just found me." In some ways it was hard to believe it had only been a couple
months; in other ways it felt as if they'd always known each other.
"But I will keep you."
"After you find my father and give me back, though. Right?" The little voice piped up from the
back seat.
"We will help you, Beryl, I promise." Poor thing. She was being remarkably brave. Of course,
she did have the ability to blind at will. Granted, she hadn't actually done it on purpose, he
supposed. Still. It was a rather impressive skill set.
He shivered. She would be formidable when she was older, trained. He just hoped they didn't
have to go up against an army of werewolves with her kind of skills fighting with Lars.
"No." The strength in her voice surprised him and he swerved, the Jeep sliding on the snow.
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He managed to get control back, pulling the Jeep over to the side of the road and idling the
engine. "No, what?"
"My pack, they won't fight for him. They'll let my father die before that. That's why Da is
involved."
"You knew what I was thinking?" Beryl was scary in many ways.
"I heard you. I can, sometimes. They'll let my father die!"
Nathan rumbled low, reached back for Beryl. "But we won't, Pup."
"That's right. We're going to save him." Geoff nodded and started the car back up, heading them
back down the road.
Her soft sobs filled the cab, following them into the snow.
Bitten - 175
Chapter Twenty Four
The snow was falling in huge, fat flakes, covering the road, hiding everything. They headed for Andrea's, neither one of them saying much. Hell, Greg wasn't sure what to say to Anton. The sleek, suave, urbane musician was gone, replaced by a growly, focused alpha. They'd been on the road since last night, stopping only long enough to take a four-hour nap before heading out again. Anton pulled the bike over to the side of the road and killed the engine. "We'll be there soon," he yelled back. Greg nodded. "Be careful." He was freezing. Anton started the engine back up and headed onto the road, the snow making it feel like the wheels were going to go out from under them at any moment. The headlights barely pierced the snow and they crept forward, heading away from the city, deeper into the woods. The storm might hinder them, but he couldn't help but think it would give them cover. Even going as slowly as they were, it didn't take long before they were pulling up in front of Andrea's farmhouse. This time, though, there were guards -- a dozen of them in wolf and human forms, moving through the snow. "Who are you?" "Your alpha," growled Anton. Greg could feel him bristling.
Bitten - 176
The hooded man growled softly. "Prove it." Anton got off the bike and headed straight for the guard, growling and snarling. He got right up into the man's face. "You'd better start giving me the respect I'm due." Greg thought he heard the guard sniffing, then the man stepped back, head bobbing. "Anton. It's about time you took your place."
"I just hope you're ready for this." Anton turned and held out a hand to him. "Come, Mate."
"I'm with you, man." It was probably bad, wasn't it? To find this new Anton so incredibly
fucking hot.
His hand slid into Anton's and they went into the house together. "Where's Andrea?" Anton
demanded.
"She's in the living area with the others. Including the child."
"The child? The one whose father is raping my mate's mind?" Anton's hand tightened on his.
"Yes."
They headed in.
"Actually, her biological father is the one being tortured. His mate is the shaman." Andrea came
through the door, looking butch in her riot gear. "Hello, Anton."
"The one trying to make my mate crazy." Anton nodded at Andrea and they went into the living room. "Jackson. I'm glad to see you." Jackson was sitting next to a broad-shouldered man with a mass of reddish hair, and a tiny girl.
Jackson beamed at him and Anton. "And I'm glad to see you, sir. Both of you."
"Are you okay, Jackson? Did you stay safe?" Greg went over, hugged the stodgy old man.
Jackson hesitated a moment, and then hugged him back. "I did. Nathan rescued me and took me
to a mountain getaway." Jackson chuckled a little, and, if Greg wasn't mistaken, there was a
blush on the man's face.
"Yeah? Cool. He was friendly?"
That blush went from 'maybe it was there' to full-on, deep red.
Anton sniffed the air, coming to stand right behind him. "Jackson? What's going on?"
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Greg looked at Jackson, really looked. "You fucked him." He'd be damned.
"Master Greg!" Jackson didn't deny it, though.
"Sorry, man. I was surprised." Shocked, even.
His eyes fell on the girl again as she giggled, and something inside him surged, tore at him. He
hit his knees. "Baby girl... What are you doing here?"
Beryl blinked. "Da? Da? Is that you?"
Greg tried to shake it off.
Anton growled, hands landing on his shoulders. "Stop it."
Jackson patted the girl's hands. "This is Greg and Anton. They're going to help us find your
father."
"No. No, my da is in there. My da is."
"Master Greg?" Jackson looked a little green around the gills. "Are you all right?"
"I." He groaned, hands on his head. "Beryl. Baby, I'm so sorry."
"Stop that," growled Anton, hands digging into his shoulders. "Just stop it."
"Da! Don't go! I'm sorry!"
The stranger grabbed his baby -- the little girl -- cradling her. "Shh. Shh, now. He's not your da.
Your da's just Calling through him."
Anton growled again. "Enough! Let's get this thing planned."
Andrea nodded. "Indeed. Nathan, how many men does he have?"
Nathan shrugged. "There were thirty in total at the compound. There could be more now."
"Is that the best you can do?" Anton snarled. "You were there. You know the man. Would he
have brought in more? Did he have more to bring in?"
Greg watched as Nathan rippled, teeth baring.
"Don't give me the third degree. You haven't been an alpha to this pack for years."
Bitten - 178
Anton grabbed Nathan by the collar and hauled him up. "I'm here now, though. You look at me
when I talk to you!"
A low snarl rang out and the little girl screamed, the sound piercing Greg to the core.
"Stop it! Stop it! He can't see!" Jackson's hands covered Anton's. "He can't see."
"What?" Greg felt confused as hell. "What do you mean?"
Anton let go of Nathan's shirt and Jackson helped Nathan sit, hands stroking over his shoulders.
"Something's been done to his eyes and he can't see. That's why he won't look you in the eye,
Anton."
"Someone's a little bitchy tonight, hmm, Anton?" Andrea was going to get herself killed.
Anton's hands fisted at his sides. "Someone's getting ready to go to war."
"Someone should have taken control of this pack years ago." A man Greg had never seen before
stepped up, huge and shaggy and scarred. "Someone should not be ashamed of his past."
Anton pushed right into the man's space. "Are you challenging me?"
"Wouldn't be the first time, you stuck up, pansy-assed prick." Their chests slammed together, the
big man snarling.
Anton grabbed the man's forearm, twisting it and forcing the challenger around. "I'd rather have
you able to fight for me against this asshole, but I won't hesitate to break your arm if you don't
back the fuck off."
"At least call me by my name, Lupi." The hairy man was smiling -- how could he be smiling?
"You mean it's not 'Butthead'?" Anton winked and let go of the man's arm. "You better be the
only one pulling this shit today, Brandon."
Brandon wrapped huge arms around Anton, squeezing hard. "I won the bet, friend. Tell me it's
true. Tell me you're taking your place for real."
"For this I am. What happens after, we'll have to wait and see." Anton's eyes met his. "I have a
mate now."
"Congratulations. I have four daughters. Four. They need a safe place to grow."
"This place was safe." Anton shook his head. "For so long we've had peace between the packs
and tribes here. Who the hell does this asshole think he is? Coming here to take our territory?"
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"There were two of them." Greg blinked as the voice came out of his mouth again. "Two. Your
assistant brought the one in, gave him access. Hope."
Anton lifted his hand for everyone to be quiet and came up to him, talking, but not to him. "That
was the one we killed."
"Yes. The one remaining. His litter mate."
"What are his weaknesses?"
"He hates. He... he is not sane. He believes himself a prophet. He -- he wants to make more
wolves."
"Which is why he made Greg." Anton snarled again. "We'll have to kill him."
"Yes. After you save my Nix."
"Yes. Now give me my mate back."
"Be strong, baby girl. Know I love you." Greg grunted, knees buckling as the presence inside
him disappeared, leaving a void.
Anton's arms went around him, catching him before he could fall to the floor. Growling and
snarling, Anton made room for them on the couch.
"Oh, Greg, I'm so sorry," murmured Jackson. "That has to be so hard."
"Let's just do this. Let's get it done so we can live again. This running is bullshit." He'd thought
they could; hell, he'd thought they should, but it was wrong. This was their territory. Their land.
"Yes." Anton squeezed him tight. "All right. Andrea? Nathan? We need to know about the
compound, about where he'll have his men and wolves."
"Nathan helped us map out a diagram. Do we want to attack? Are we just going in and raiding?"
Greg could tell that Andrea was unsure, worried. She was a police officer, after all. Someone
sworn to uphold the law. Not that that had stopped her before.
Anton shook his head. "We go in, we rescue the girl's father, and we kill Lars. Once he's dead,
his pack will fall apart unless there's someone ready to step into the alpha role. And men like
Lars don't keep other alphas around." Anton didn't hesitate in the least. "If we don't cut the alpha
down, he'll keep coming at us."
The others nodded, growling, and Greg watched, worried. They were talking about murder. Real,
premeditated murder.
Bitten - 180
It was Jackson who came and sat by his side. "I don't like this either, Greg, but they don't live by
the same rules we do."
Jackson's always straight back straightened just a little bit more. "And we didn't start this. We
didn't take you away and change you against your will. We didn't kidnap me and torture me.
They were going to..." Jackson hesitated and shook his head. "We didn't start this."
"No, and if we don't finish it, more men will die." Nathan was holding the little girl, rocking her.
"This is our way."
"We need to learn the ways of the men we love," Jackson told him quietly.
"This is his way, now." Nathan sounded firm, resigned. "You cannot deny the wolf. Therein lies
madness."
Man, he thought, people were going to rub that in about Anton for, like, ever.
Anton growled. "That doesn't mean we have to act like animals all the time." Then Anton turned
to Jackson. "You and Nathan? Really?"
Jackson smiled over at Nathan. "Yes."
Nathan nodded, face set in hard lines. "He is my mate."
Did that mean they'd lose Jackson? Gain a blind wolf guy? Did Nathan have a job? Man, this
wolf shit was more and more complicated.
"Well, he's my... Jackson." Anton watched as Jackson took Nathan's hand and squeezed it. Then
Anton took Nathan's other hand and shook it. "Welcome to the family."
"Thank you. Congratulations on finding your mate." Nathan's smile was warm, pleased.
Anton's arm came around him. "Thank you."
Jackson nudged Greg. "Our growly partners have decided not to rip each other to bits. This
probably calls for champagne or something."
"Probably. On the other hand, I could cook up a big wedding-victory feast." Greg winked,
grinned back.
"Oh, I would like that, Greg. I've missed your cooking." Jackson gave him a smile. He still
couldn't believe the old guy had gotten involved with, well, a wolf.
"All right, I need everyone's attention," growled Anton. "It's time to get serious here."
The room got quiet, everyone gathering close, the air suddenly heavy.
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"We need a distraction coming up the main road to the compound. Something that'll take their attention, but won't use up a lot of our numbers. While they're focused on that, we'll breach the compound from here and here." Anton pointed to two places on the map. "According to Nathan, Lars is likely to be here. The Northern Tribe wolf is probably being held here." Anton looked at the little girl. "I don't want to take you into danger, but do you think you would know exactly where your father was if we were close?" "I don't know. I can't Call to him. He is so far away. I think... I think my da, though. I think he's moving." She met Greg's eyes, staring at him. "It's stronger now, isn't it? He's so much stronger now." Greg nodded. "Every day."
"He's coming."
"I don't think we can count on him for a lot of help, though. His hands are tied until your da is
rescued, and then he'll be caring for the man." Anton considered for a moment. "We leave the girl here. Nathan -- you're staying here with Andrea, protecting the girl, Jackson, and Greg." "What?" That word came from him, Jackson, Nathan, all at once.
"Blind, not a wolf, new wolf -- why is it even an issue?" Anton didn’t look like he was prepared
to budge.
"I'm not letting you fight a war without me, Anton. No way."
Anton focused on him. "I don't want to be worrying about you while we're out there, Greg."
"I'm going." He wasn't going to argue.
Anton growled at him.
He growled back, the entire room going tense. Then something in his chest squeezed, the pain
nearly unbearable. "Anton!" Darkness flashed before his eyes, darkness and snow and blood.
"Greg!" Anton caught him, shook him. "Greg!"
"They're coming." He coughed, the taste of blood in his mouth, in his throat, pain piercing his
chest. "They're coming. Here. Now."
Anton pushed him into Jackson's arms. "Andrea! Take the four of them downstairs. Everyone else to me." Anton stopped long enough to give him a hard kiss, and then he strode out. "Da! Da! Are you there?"
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"B...baby girl." He coughed, aching. "I'm going to get your father. I have to."
"What's going on?" Nathan growled, holding Beryl tightly in his lap.
"All hell seems to be breaking loose." Jackson looked green around the edges, but he was calmly
stroking Nathan's arm.
Greg closed his eyes, swallowing again, trying to figure out what to do.
Help me.
That voice was clear, sharp. How. Tell me how.
They have him. They have him trapped in their compound. He could feel the voice's pain.
Jackson's hand landed on his arm. "What is it, Greg?"
"They have him. I don't know these people."
Nathan's nose was twitching, sniffing.
"What is it?" Jackson asked, touching Nathan now.
"Geoff, take Beryl, head down into the cellar. There's a safe room. Greg, do you know how to
change?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's go. We'll go get the prisoner, free him. I'll need your eyes."
"Nathan. You can't see!" Jackson shook his head. "Come down with Beryl and me."
"No. Greg can't do this without me. Rescuing people is my job. Was my job. Go. Go, Mate.
Protect her."
Jackson pushed into Nathan's arms, kissing the man hard. Dude.
Jackson. Kissing. With tongue.
Gross.
Really.
"Uh, guys. Little girl... uh. Little wolf." Dude. She changed quick.
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Jackson broke away from the kiss and gave Nathan's face a gentle stroke. Then the man turned to
him. "You take care of him. You both take care of each other."
That voice came again, speaking through him. "We will. Please. I'm coming. I need help." The
man had been shot, was freezing, bleeding.
Jackson grabbed the girl-wolf's scruff. "Come on, Beryl. We need to go and wait for them to
bring back your da."
"Be safe, Mate." Nathan reached out for him, hand steady. "Okay, Greg, you need to change. Do
you need help?"
"You be safe, too." Jackson gave Nathan a quick hug and then got into Greg's face. "You make
sure nothing happens to him. To you, either. I want everyone safe and healthy when this is over."
"Yeah. Yeah." He nodded, heart pounding. "I don't know if I can just change like this, man. I
never have."
Nathan nodded, "I can help. Don't freak out."
Nathan stripped quickly and he did the same, hands shaking violently. Before he was all the way
naked, Nathan was a huge, fuzzy wolf.
A huge, fuzzy, snarling, bared-tooth wolf. Jesus.
He stumbled back. "Dude. Man. It's me."
Nathan came forward, growling, snapping at the air.
Greg kept backing up, avoiding those teeth, trying to figure out what Nathan was so fucking
pissed about. Well, besides the blind thing. His back slammed against the wall, his bones rattling.
Fuck.
Fuck.
"Dude. Man, please."
Nothing he said seemed to faze Nathan at all; the wolf just slunk forward, huge head bobbing
and weaving like a prize fighter. Then Nathan lunged forward, snarling low. The huge sharp
teeth snapped, right by his balls,
"Fuck!" He jumped and growled, shoulders hunching as the wolf surged to the forefront, pushing
his humanity away. He lunged forward and Nathan backed off, chuffing softly.
Jackson chuckled. "Well, that was one way to help, I guess."
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Nathan turned and snapped at Jackson, who nodded. "Okay, okay. We're going downstairs. Come on, Beryl. We're being left behind." Greg headed for the door, sniffing hard. Nathan nudged his shoulder and they headed out, into the snow. He could feel the shaman now, clear and strong. Damon -- the shaman’s name was Damon, his mate was Nix; Greg could feel their names like whispers in his head as Damon grew closer, the shaman limping toward them, coming from the north. The others were spreading out around the farm, most in wolf form, some staying to protect the house, others trotting off to go on the offensive. Anton suddenly appeared in front of him in wolf form, snarling at him, snapping, trying to herd him back to the house. He snarled back, knowing that he and Nathan had to go outside the farmland, leaving the safety of the pack. They had to. Someone had to save Nix. The vision of the man hit him -- a huge, solid wolf, a giant of a man, beautiful and dark, shining in the moonlight. Damon loved him. Anton snarled back, and then his mate's muzzle rubbed against his, Anton's tongue licking him. Anton snapped out a bark, the look in his mate's eyes intense. He could swear he knew what Anton was trying to tell him, hear it in his heart: be safe, love you. Love. He let his head bob. He'd do this and he'd come back and they'd have their home back. Both of them. Please.
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Chapter Twenty Five
Anton watched Greg and Nathan run north, slipping away through the brush at the back of the farm. He wanted to put his head back and howl to the moon. Greg was his mate, and his mate belonged at his side. He snapped and snarled, and then he shoved it to the back of his mind. He could feel the invaders coming onto the farmhouse land, trying to be stealthy, but the pack knew they were coming, they wouldn't be ambushed. He circled the house once, making sure it was protected, and then he went toward the south, where he felt the largest threat. The pack was spread fairly thin, but they had the advantage of knowing this land. Brandon was at his side, Andrea leading a small group to the west with firearms to assure no humans came up the road to assist. He'd wanted her to stay in the house with those who couldn't fight, but she was a stubborn bitch. That was why he'd been able to leave running the pack to her for so long. He could feel the intruders close now, and he put on a burst of speed. A flash of silver fur gave away one wolf's position and he leapt for the wolf's throat, taking it down with hardly a sound. Brandon worked his flank, taking out two males, snarling and snapping. The heavy metallic scent of blood was on the air now. It wouldn't be long before any element of surprise was gone. Then they came upon a large group, and the element of surprise no longer mattered. Anton jumped into them, going for the big one. He didn't know this one's scent. He needed the alpha, the one that smelled the same as the one who’d stolen his mate. It didn't stop him from biting, from snarling and ripping into the vulnerable throat. The splash of blood on his muzzle made his heart pound.
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Brandon was working fiercely beside him, going for throat after throat. Anton wiped his muzzle in the snow, getting the scent of blood out of his nose. Then he raised his head, scenting the air. They could kill all the soldiers they wanted; the attack would only end when the alpha went down. He sniffed hard, trying to find the scent over the madness of blood and pain. Coward, he thought, when he couldn't find the alpha. Lars was nothing but a coward, sending his pack out to do what he wouldn't. Growling, he waded through the large group and signaled to Brandon that he was going. He had to find the alpha. Brandon's head bobbed, then the yellow eyes went wide and the wolf yelped out a warning. Anton spun just in time for a body to come barreling at him, teeth going for his throat.
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Chapter Twenty Six
Limping through the snow, Damon swore with every drop of blood that fell that he would save his Nix. For Beryl. For himself. He would. He had to. Beryl had left, run to find help, and he'd known, finally, that he had to fight. Had to run. Had to save his mate. Coming. Coming, Nix. Please.
He cast about wildly, searching for some hint, some clue that the moon had not forsaken him,
that his was the right. In the back of his mind he could feel the others, feel the ones coming to
help him.
Then he fell.
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The bullet had torn through his shoulder, the cold keeping the flow of blood sluggish.
He felt them in his mind before he felt their muzzles: two wolves, coming for him.
Then they were there, licking at his wound and nudging him. This was the one he had been
Calling to, and the other smelled of his Beryl.
He looked into the amber eyes, growling, nuzzling, murmuring away the charms and fears that
had stolen the wolf's sight.
The wolf put his head back and howled, the pleasure clear.
The one he'd been Calling barked, pushed at him with his muzzle.
This way. Hurry.
Hurry. His mate waited.
Hurry.
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Chapter Twenty Seven
Geoff found the panic room in the basement, and he pulled the door closed behind Beryl and himself. There were a few cots, some chairs, a little camping stove, cans of food, candles and bottles of water. He and Beryl could live down here for a long time. He prayed they only had to be here a short while. Like an hour. At most. Sighing, he sat on one of the chairs, suddenly realizing his hand was still fisted in Beryl's ruff. He managed to unclench his fingers, petting instead. "Sorry, child." She hopped up, front paws on his knees, eyes wide. "I know, I know. I'm scared, too. Not for us. For them." So much had changed -- Anton didn't even look the same as he had. The man looked fierce, wild, no trace of the bored sophisticate remaining. Greg was another story altogether, looking part wild, part crazed. That whole speaking-through-him thing had freaked Geoff out more than a little. He shook himself, listening hard, trying to hear something, anything, apart from the beating of his own heart and Beryl's panting. Nothing. How could it be so quiet? He double checked that the door was locked, and then he curled up in a chair with Beryl, petting the soft fur as he waited and prayed.
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Chapter Twenty Eight
Anton lowered his head, the bite aimed at his throat hitting his shoulder instead. He rolled,
throwing his attacker onto the ground.
He knew this scent.
He knew it.
Flashes of this wolf's brother, torturing his mate, trying to kill Greg, turning his lover into a wolf,
danced before Anton's eyes. This was the wolf he'd been searching for, the one he had to kill.
Snarling, he went for the wolf's neck, snapping his teeth closed around fur and muscles and bone.
The war was raging around him, and the bastard yanked away, snarling and snapping at him.
He snarled back, circling, looking for his opening to put an end to this. This man had stolen his
family, his life, his home. He lifted his head, howling his fury.
The sound was answered with a wild, defiant sound. One of them would not survive this.
He went on the attack, leaping at his enemy, going for the eyes.
The male swung, teeth bared, fangs sinking into his shoulder, shaking violently, trying to pull
him off his feet. He had anger on his side, though, and he pulled loose, sinking his own teeth into the wolf's flank. "Shoot him! He's got Lars!" The voices seemed to come from everywhere.
He snarled and barked, calling out to Brandon, to the pack, even as he launched himself at Lars
again.
Shots rang out, the flashes blinding him.
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Chapter Twenty Nine
Nathan ran like the wind, his eyes whole again.
Every now and then he dropped back to nip at Damon's heels. The Northern wolf was wounded,
but they didn't have time to mollycoddle him. Greg barked and urged him back to the front; he
knew where the compound was.
When they drew near to the clearing, Nathan slowed, keeping them in the trees. Muzzle raised,
he scented the place, trying figure out how many had been left behind with Damon's mate.
The place was quiet, silent, eerily deserted, and they all slowed, bellies to the ground as they
moved. He growled softly at Damon; could the shaman feel his mate?
Damon limped toward the building where they'd kept Geoff, but Nathan rumbled, protesting.
No.
No, that was too easy.
Too simple.
Greg headed north, feet padding on the ground, heading for the house. Nathan called to Damon
and followed Greg. They padded to the dark house, Greg sniffing the ground, Damon following
right behind.
Nathan kept on their tails, leaving them to find Nix while he made sure they stayed safe.
He paced, claws digging into the dirt, catching on... Wires. Wires.
Why were there wires upon the...
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He snarled, head tossing, teeth bared. He yelped and barked, warning them. A bomb.
A bomb.
They had to stop. They had to go back.
He barked again, Greg and Damon stopping. He nosed the wires, yipping. They couldn't go in,
not like this. They needed to be men to do this. He yipped at them.
Nathan led them to the back to the little warehouse near the fence. He had supplies buried there;
he knew where the tools were.
He let the change take him, shivering as the cold wind hit his skin. The world went gray again,
only the barest shapes visible. No. Sweet lord. No. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself
to keep his face still.
"Hurry. Hurry. There should be clothes." He popped the warehouse door, feeling Greg brush
against him and then, nothing. No one. Wait.
He sniffed the air, curious, the scent of Damon fading quickly.
"Damon?"
Fuck.
Fuck.
"Damon? Where the hell are you going?" He knew, though. He knew. Damon wouldn't leave Nix
in the house alone.
"Nathan?" Greg was shaking violently, staring. "What's going on?"
He found the clothes by feel alone and thrust them at Greg. "There were wires. A bomb. We
need to. Damon's fucking gone in there on his own. Grab the toolbox. Hurry."
"Okay. Okay, sure. Do you need these clothes?"
"No, I'm going to change back." So I can see.
"What? I thought you said. What's going on, Nathan?"
"I -- I can't see. I can't see like..." He stopped, the scent of danger on the air.
Greg's head jerked. "Nathan. We need to get them and get out of here."
"I don't know if we can."
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Chapter Thirty
He hurt.
Everywhere.
It was dark and it was cold and he hurt and he'd long ago stopped feeling Damon's soothing
presence.
Nix groaned, his body aching, something inside broken.
He heard a low, soft sound, the noise like a balm, like a prayer. Whimpering softly, he tried to
focus, but his eyes weren't working very well. He couldn't remember how long he'd been in here,
all he remembered was pain and...
That growl came again, so close.
It almost sounded like his mate, like Damon.
No, no, Damon was far away, safe with their wee Beryl.
The world grew darker for a moment, then he heard a soft moan. "My Nix."
No.
No, Damon.
"M...mate. Go. Run." Please. Save yourself.
That sharp bark sounded, then his Damon was standing in front of him, bleeding, pale, fingers
working at his bonds. "There's a bomb. Nix. Please, love. We have to go."
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"Yes. Bomb. Run, Damon. Please. Save yourself." He hurt so much. "Not going without you. I can't. Help me." Damon had worked his hands free, and he tried to help, he did, tugging at the ropes at his ankles. "It's going to be soon. Soon. Beryl's safe. Our baby is safe. Hurry." Damon's hair was soft, falling all around him. He turned his face, breathing in deeply. Oh, he could smell the snow in his mate's hair. "Please. Can you shift? Love, please. Your true form. We have to run." "I... I don't know, Damon. I'll try." For Damon he would try, but everything hurt. "Try." Damon keened, the howl calling to him. With a howl of his own, he changed, ignoring the pain as his body became the wolf. His mate licked at him, his body stronger like this, bones knitting, vision clearing. They'd fought to keep him human, forcing the wolf away. Now he was back. He put his head back and howled. He was back.
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Chapter Thirty One
Geoff tried to stay calm, especially for Beryl's sake. He hated this waiting, though, this being left behind. He would have been much happier if he'd had something to do, some way to help. He petted Beryl's fur, murmuring nonsense at her now and then, as much to have something break the dreadful silence as anything else. She whimpered, cuddled in closer. He supposed watching out for her was something. It wasn't enough, but it was something. "It'll all be all right." It would. Her father would be rescued and would join her da and they’d come back and get her and fix Nathan's eyes. And Anton and Greg would be safe, the whole pack would be safe. He kept telling himself that.
He intended on telling himself that over and over until it was true.
As the silence continued, he debated opening the door, going out and seeing if he could figure
out what was going on.
He hadn't decided one way or another when he heard shots ringing out.
"Oh, God."
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Chapter Thirty Two
Hurry.
Hurry.
Faster.
Damon bit and tugged, nipping at Nix's heels. Terror was coming.
Fire.
Pain.
Hurry.
Hurry.
Love.
Please.
Beryl was out there. Waiting for them.
Waiting.
Hurry.
Hurry, Mate.
Right here, Mate.
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With you.
With you.
Mate.
They scrambled, bodies hitting the door together, the sound of electricity everywhere.
Run. Run. Hurry. Run.
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Chapter Thirty Three
Greg stared at Nathan. "I thought they fixed your eyes."
He'd seen the man -- wolf -- whatever -- in the woods. Nathan could see.
"They did, as a wolf. It's better than it was, but... Damn it, there's no time!"
"I don't know anything about bombs!" How could he help?
"We need to find it, first, cut the wires. And we need to get Nix and Damon out. Come on. I'll
help, but I can't do it like this." Growling, Nathan shifted, looking suddenly more comfortable.
The wolf nudged the tool box and yipped softly.
"Okay, okay. Let me get these boots on." He grabbed the tool box, and shrugged on the heavy
utility coat. Oh, better. "Where to? What do I do?"
Nathan simply headed toward the farmhouse, nose to the ground.
He hunkered down into the coat, following Nathan and feeling like... he didn't know what. This
wasn't what life was supposed to be like -- wars and fighting, out in the snow and bombs and
people kidnapped and tortured.
They were almost at the house when Nathan stopped, pawing at the ground and whining.
"Okay. Okay. What? It's buried here? Can you dig up a bomb?" He put the tool box down and
knelt, trying to figure out what he was seeing.
There was a cluster of wires and Nathan followed it, nose to the ground, barking when he got to
the corner of the house. Now Greg could see the car battery that the wires seemed to be all
hooked up to.
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"What do I do? I mean, oh fuck. This is intense." Nathan sniffed around the bomb for a few moments and then shifted, shivering in the cold. "I don't think we can defuse it. If we sever any of the connections, it's going to go off. We have to get Nix and Damon and get the hell out of here." Nathan pushed him. "You remember how we got here, right? Go. I'll make sure the Northern Tribe mates get out." "I'm not leaving you here. I can't. We'll go..." Electricity cracked along the wires and he jerked back. "Damon! RUN! It's going to blow!" Nathan grabbed his arm and yanked him backward as the world went white and hot, both of them flying into white drifts of snow that went black.
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Chapter Thirty Four
Something sharp hit his back haunch, sending Anton down. Heat spread from the spot and he
whimpered as he tried to get his footing again.
Lars was still coming at him, and he found the energy to get back up and lunge for Lars again.
The sharp snapping sounds came again and again, but no more hit him, which was a stroke of
luck, because Lars rolled him, jaws tearing at his fur.
Lars was thicker across the shoulders than he was, but he was more agile, and he got his jaw
around Lars' muzzle, twisting it. A scream split the air, Lars' blood pouring into his mouth, hot
and metallic.
He let go and snapped again, mouth closing over Lars' shoulder. He swung his head from side to
side, growling low, wanting to make sure Lars was down for the count.
A pair of booted feet appeared in front of him, Andrea staring down, gun in hand. "Finish him.
Finish him off, Anton."
She sounded... scared.
Snarling, he found Lars' neck and ripped it open.
The big body went down, hard, and he lifted his head, howling out his fury, his pain, his loss.
He was Wolf. He was Alpha.
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Chapter Thirty Five
Shots.
Oh, God.
Geoff’s heart beat wildly and he started pacing, all pretense of being calm completely gone.
He should go and find out what was going on. He could help treat the wounded if nothing else.
Anything would be better than staying down here and waiting like this.
A noise sounded, and then Anton’s voice called his name. Geoff turned the bolt turning and
opened the door to the safe room. Anton was standing there, naked and covered in blood and
bites, eyes wild. A woman -- the police officer, Aman... no. No. Andrea -- stood next to him, gun
in hand.
"We have to go. Hurry. There's been an explosion."
Oh, thank goodness Anton was okay. "What? Master Anton? Are you all right? What's
happened? What explosion?"
"At the other compound. Where Greg was headed."
Greg and...
No.
He felt the blood drain from his face. "Nathan?"
"We don't know. I heard it. The authorities are headed over there. We have to get there first, if
we can." Andrea sounded very sure.
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He nodded. He had to get to Nathan.
Beryl's muzzle nudged his hand, the young wolf whimpering.
"We don't have time to wait. Move it. Anton, shift back or get some fucking clothes." Andrea's
boots thumped on the floor as she headed off.
Geoff hurried after her. "Would you like my sweater?" he asked Anton.
But the man had already taken on wolf form.
Anton and Beryl ran -- heading into the trees. Andrea headed for a pickup truck. "Come on.
We'll have to go this way. Hurry!"
There were little pockets of fighting all around him. He climbed into the truck, trying not to think. He couldn't help it, though, his lover's name echoing in his brain. Andrea tore down the road, lights and sirens going as they slid and zipped through the bitter snow.
"What happened? Are they okay?"
"I don't know. I think the whole compound went up. I wouldn't hold my breath."
He jerked his head to stare at her. "What?"
"The whole thing was set to blow. I don't know where they were, if they were inside. I don't
know."
"I see." He swallowed down the bile that threatened and held his hands tightly together in his lap.
He began to pray. He didn't care if Nathan ever regained his sight, Geoff just wanted his lover to
be alive.
"Anton will get there first. If there's..." Her voice trailed off. "Assholes."
"What? What is it?"
"They'll expose us all, if they find them. Their -- their bodies."
"Not if we get there first."
"I'm trying."
"I know. Faster." They had to be okay. There wouldn't be any bodies.
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"I am." The truck slipped and slid, the snow tires working hard. "I am."
"They're alive."
He'd say it over and over until they got there and found them.
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Chapter Thirty Six
Anton ran.
He headed in the direction of the explosion, ignoring the way his right haunch ached, hurt from
the bullet that had pierced him. It was meaningless. Greg wasn't dead, couldn't be; he would know if his mate was gone. He would. He moved faster as the scent of burning reached him. He snarled and barked as he went; he would not lose Greg. Flaming bits of ash were falling, landing to sputter and die in the trees.
The young pup was keeping up with him despite her age. She had as much to lose as he did.
He stopped to put his head back and howled, waiting when he was done for Greg to reply. He
strained to hear the sound over the sirens, the alarms, the fire. He strained to hear it, and he did.
Barking happily, he headed for where that sound came from. He headed for Greg.
The pup yelped, crying out over and over, Calling.
He nudged her to stay with him. He had Greg's scent now; the ash and smoke were thick, but his
mate's scent was there, underneath it.
Other sounds were coming, cries and moans, his name, over and over.
"Anton! Anton, please! I don't know how to wake him up!"
He burst through the trees, finding Greg and Nathan between the edge of the forest and the big
house at the back of the compound.
His mate. His. Whining, he threw himself at Greg.
Bitten - 205
Greg was dragging Nathan, the big wolf still, head lolling. "Anton. Anton, please. I... I can't..."
His mate dropped to his knees, screaming out.
Anton shifted, the healing wound making it take longer. "Mate, I’m here, I'm here." His mate
was alive. Greg was alive. Turning his attention to Nathan, he put his hands on the big wolf's
chest, feeling for a heartbeat.
There it was, sluggish and slow, but there. A heartbeat. Nathan wasn't dead.
"Okay, let's get him into the woods." They had to get out of sight before the rescue vehicles
showed up. He gathered Nathan up in his arms. "Come on, Mate."
Little Beryl was whining, calling and crying. Suddenly she stopped, yelped, then barreled toward
the flames.
Damn it. He got them to the woods and carefully laid Nathan down. "Stay with him. Greg -- stay
with him."
"Don't leave. Please. He's dying and it's my fault and..."
Beryl started barking furiously, the sound wild and happy.
"Over here," Anton shouted to her and her fathers. Then he wrapped Greg in his arms, pressing
against his mate’s back. "Mate. Shh. It's okay. He's alive." He started laughing, adrenaline
coursing through him. "You are alive."
"You're naked."
"I am. You're wearing an ugly coat and nothing else." He kept holding on. He wasn't ever going
to let go.
Headlights showed in the tree behind them, the truck laboring over the drifts, Andrea flashing at
them twice before killing the engine. "Anton? Are you out there?"
"Over here. I have Nathan. Beryl might need help with her fathers."
"Nathan!" Jackson came running, stumbling through the snow.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Jackson. I tried..." Greg was sobbing, cradling Nathan's body. "I'm so
sorry."
"No! No! He can't be!" Jackson dropped to his knees, hands sliding on Nathan's fur. "No. Please.
Please."
Anton growled, hands on Greg's shoulders. "He has a faint heartbeat."
Bitten - 206
"Get in the truck. Everyone. Move. Maurice is coming with supplies. He'll help." Andrea
grabbed his arm. "Where's the child?"
Anton jerked his head back toward the house. "She's with her fathers. They might need help. I
couldn't leave Greg." Not after he'd heard her happy barks and knew she'd found them.
Three wolves -- a pup, a tiny, tiny lean silver wolf, and a huge dark one -- came out of the trees,
blood staining the snow.
"Excellent. Let's go." Andrea started moving toward the truck and Anton shifted, the cold simply
too much on bare skin.
Greg and Jackson brought Nathan, the big wolf still not waking. Anton hoped he would be okay.
Werewolves were tough, though, and the odds were in Nathan's favor.
He followed to the truck, watching Jackson climb into the back, holding Nathan close.
As soon as Nathan was safe, Anton latched onto Greg again. Mate.
Greg smelled singed, was trembling violently, but those arms wrapped around him, petting his
fur. "Is it over? Andrea, tell me it's over."
"Anton killed the other alpha. It's over."
He yipped. Yes. He'd won. He'd saved his mate.
Greg nodded. "Good. Good. I promise you, Anton, I'll cook for you. Soon."
He growled softly, rubbing his head along Greg's thighs.
Andrea backed the truck up and headed out along a back road.
Jackson was murmuring softly, rocking Nathan and sobbing. The wolves in the bed of the truck
were still, silent, curled together. He growled softly, yipping. Jackson needed to have faith.
Andrea was on her phone, talking quickly, the truck sliding on the mud and snow.
"Don't you wreck this truck and kill us, Andrea. Not after all this."
"Shut the fuck up, Greg."
He snapped at her, snarled. She didn't get to talk to his mate like that. He was alpha. Him. He'd
proven that today, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
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She growled, but stopped, focusing on the driving. When they reached the pack lands -- his pack lands -- he'd never seen anything so welcome. He shifted as they pulled up and gave Greg a hard kiss. "Help me get Nathan inside."
"Your leg." Greg slid out of the truck, Brandon and Devon and all the others swarming out to
help. It was him and Greg and Jackson, though, who carried Nathan's limp form inside.
"I'm fine. I'll heal."
They got Nathan into one of the bedrooms, the big wolf looking small on the bed. Small and
bloody. Jackson climbed onto the bed, cradling the limp form.
"Anton. Love. You need to rest." Greg tried to lead him out.
"No. No, Anton. Please. Go to the living room. Let them know you're strong." Andrea stared at
him, lips tight. "Show them this is your pack."
"It is my pack, Andrea." He stared her down, only heading toward the living room where the
others were gathered when she looked away.
Brandon was in the hall, waiting for him. "They scrambled, friend. I buried your kill."
"I told you they would." He clapped Brandon on the back, slipping on the sweats Andrea brought
him.
"You did. You're well?" Those concerned eyes looked him up and down.
"I'm fine." His leg hurt like a son of a bitch and he needed his mate, but he was fine.
He strode into the living room, surveying the pack gathered there. They were tired, hurt. Scared.
Looking to him.
"Lars is dead. His pack is scattered, his stronghold burnt to the ground. We have won. We have
defended our land. Well done."
There was a silence, a stillness, then a voice asked, "What happens now?"
"We go back to our lives. Word of our victory will spread and we will not be challenged again."
Not any time soon.
"And you? Will you fight for us?" That was another voice. "Or will you hide away in the city?"
He walked up to the man and looked him in the eye. "I was here for this fight, wasn't I?"
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"Yes." The man didn't back down, but Anton could feel him vibrating, needing to submit. This
was a brave one. A good fighter. A good ally.
"I am your alpha."
"Yes." Those eyes dropped and the tension in the room eased.
"Andrea! Andrea!" One of Andrea's little twinks came running out. "Where's the doctor? We're
going to lose the shaman and Nathan."
From upstairs, a wild, sorrowful howl rang out, shaking the foundations of the house.
"Not on my watch," growled Anton, striding from the room.
There'd been enough death and hurt, and Nathan and the shaman were not going to pay for Lars'
greed and hatred.
"Maurice!" Andrea waved the heavy, stocky doctor in, the man followed by a lovely pair of
twins. "There are a number of wounded."
"Nathan and the shaman need him first." Anton dared anyone to contradict him.
"Sam, Stephen -- you see to Nathan. Anton, it's good to see you back. Please, where's the..." That
horrifying howl came again. "Never mind. I can figure it out."
Anton grabbed Greg's hand, needing his mate with him, and followed the two -- Sam and
Stephen -- to the room where they'd left Nathan.
Jackson was there, still cradling the big wolf, tears pouring down his cheeks.
Anton growled, hating this feeling of helplessness.
"Okay, someone tell me what happened."
Greg nodded. "There was a bomb. We went flying. He never woke up."
The twins shared a look and Anton's heart sank.
Still, they grabbed their kits and came over, pulling the limp body from Jackson's arms. One of
the men patted Jackson's hand. "We'll do our best, but you -- all of you -- should go."
Anton looked at Jackson, who shook his head. "I love him. I'm staying with him."
"We're staying," Anton told the twins. He might be alpha of the whole pack, but Greg, Jackson
and now Jackson's lover, they were family.
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The other twin bent to Nathan's chest, stethoscope in his ears, listening, face intent. He looked to his brother, shook his head once. "We can make him comfortable. He's bleeding out." "No!" Jackson's wail broke Anton's heart.
"Are you sure you can't do anything more? We'll all donate blood." His own wound had stopped
bleeding almost immediately, and as soon as he rested, it would heal completely. He could afford
to give up a little blood.
"I'm sorry."
Greg touched his arm, eyes filled with tears. "Anton, let Jackson have this. Let Jackson say
goodbye."
The twins were rummaging through their bags, pulling out a bottle of medication, a syringe.
He touched Jackson's arm. "Greg and I will be outside if you need us."
Jackson nodded, jerkily, eyes never leaving Nathan's limp form on the bed.
Taking Greg's hand again, Anton led him from the room.
*** Nix howled again, letting his pain out into the world. His muzzle lay over Damon's, his dear
mate so weak. Damon had given him too much. Damon had saved him, but at what cost?
Beryl lay close, her muzzle on Damon's flank, soft whimpers coming from her.
She needed Damon. He needed Damon. He howled again; he could not lose his mate.
The door opened, a man bustling in, bag in hand. Nix snarled and the man shook his head. "I'm a
doctor. Let me help."
He growled, but backed down, watching the man warily.
"He's been shot? Nasty wound, there, but it went clean through. That's excellent news. No metal
to cause an issue." The man worked quickly, yammering away in a lilting accent. "Someone
hasn't been eating well enough." No. No, his mate had been on a mission, Calling for the pup, for the one whose exchange was to save him. Nix whimpered softly; he would have been killed anyway. He'd tried to tell Damon that, to get his mate to hide and not help, but they'd done something to him, shielded him somehow from his Damon.
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It would have been better to shift, to tell the doctor Damon had done something, had filled him with power and energy, but he was scared. Nix was scared that if he became human, he would be stuck that way once again. The doctor kept talking, hands moving over Damon, putting needles in his mate. The sound was
comforting, easing him. Beryl pushed up into his face, whining, licking his jaw.
Father. Father. Father.
Poor, scared baby.
He growled softly, rubbing their muzzles together. His baby girl. His and Damon's. She needed
them both.
Guilt and fear and sorrow poured from Beryl, whispers of wrongs done to her, to another -- to the one who was passing away from them. He rumbled softly. She needed to make her peace with the other wolf, make her apologies before it was too late. Go to him. We'll be here. She was safe in this place.
Father. I'm scared.
He growled softly for her, rubbed her muzzle so she smelled of him. Be calm. I love you.
I love you. So much. She told him softly, then padded away, leaving him with his poor mate.
So strong. Their daughter was beautiful and strong.
Knowing she was safe, he turned his attention back to his mate, his sweet Damon. So much pain;
the magics had demanded Damon's blood to perform the Calling of the pup. He howled softly,
nudging the doctor's side. Help him.
"I'm trying. He's dehydrated. Can you talk to him? Keep him here with us?"
He barked once to show he understood.
Mate.
Love.
Stay with me.
After all, he'd stayed for Damon, now his mate had to stay for him.
Love.
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Nix rubbed his nuzzle with Damon's.
He could feel his mate, distant, tired, scared. Mate.
I'm here, Mate.
Stay.
Love.
Love.
He concentrated on his love for his mate.
He could feel Damon -- curious, nervous, the touch against his mind feather-light. Safe?
Safe.
Love.
Safe.
Mate.
Stay.
Stay.
Safe.
The evil alpha was dead.
Gone.
He couldn't hurt them anymore.
He felt something, deep inside Damon, shine. Dead?
Dead.
Gone.
They were safe.
Safe, Mate.
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Beryl was safe.
He was safe.
Damon was safe.
All safe.
Damon shifted, eyelids fluttering. Nix.
Mate!
He barked, rubbing their muzzles together, gnawing gently on Damon's ear.
Nix. Nix. Nix. The word got louder, happier. Nix. Nix. Nix.
He barked again, yipped, excited. His mate! Damon!
"Ah, yes. Someone's coming back to us." The doctor winked. "It's amazing what some nutrients
can do for a body."
Nix chuffed, amused. Nutrients.
Yes, it would make the doctor happy to believe that was it.
He rubbed his muzzle against Damon's again.
Mate.
Mate.
Nix. The single mental word echoed through him. My Nix.
Yes. His Damon was becoming stronger every minute.
His family would be whole again and soon they would return to the Northern Tribe, to their
home.
Nix put his head back and howled. *** Geoff waited until the two little doctors -- how they could be old enough to be doctors he didn't know -- were done making Nathan... comfortable, and then he climbed up onto the bed and took Nathan back into his arms.
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He barely noticed the tears that fell from his eyes, soaking Nathan's beautiful russet fur. He couldn't believe Nathan was dying. He wouldn't believe it. His lover, his dear, sweet, fierce man. His mate. He wasn't ready to lose this unexpected joy from his life. The big heart was slowing, though; he could feel it, under his hand. He rubbed his face against Nathan's muzzle and whispered, "I love you, Nathan." His heart was breaking. "I'm sorry." Beryl's little voice was there, tear-filled. He looked up and she stood there, wrapped in a huge quilt, tears streaking her face. He held out one arm for her, giving her a one-armed hug. He didn't say it was okay, because it wasn't, but he could hug her, share comfort with her. "I'm sorry. You were the first human who was nice to me and I hurt him." Her hand landed on Nathan's side. "You were scared. And you didn't kill him." He'd gone through being angry at Beryl. In the end, she was just a scared little girl whose fathers had been stolen from her. "Are your... is your...?" "They're coming back. Father believed." Her head tilted. "I could believe in Nathan, for you. If you do. We could believe in him. We could believe in him so hard." "I do believe in him, Beryl. He's my mate. He's my heart." His hand slid over Nathan's fur, the wolf so still, so quiet. "Then you have to believe that he wants to live. That you'll have... that you'll be a family. I believe that." Those pretty eyes began to glow, her other hand covering his. "You have to believe it, that you'll share a heartbeat, that he'll come back for you." His hand curled in the fur over that faint heartbeat and he nodded. "He's my mate. He knows I love him, that I need him." He bent and whispered into Nathan's ear. "Do you hear me, Mate? My heart will break without you. You have to come back and be my family. This old man needs you." "Your heart and his heart are the same." The words felt heavy, weighted. "Yes. Yes, my heart will beat for him." He would give anything for Nathan. Anything. There was a time that thought might have scared him. Not now. Not when he knew what it meant to be Nathan's mate. "For him. The same. Just the same."
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A sharp pain caught his chest, his heart slowing.
"Just the same, Geoff. For him."
The door slammed open, a naked man barrelling in, holding a gaunt man in his arms. "Beryl!
Beryl, NO!"
He ignored them, eyes closing. He could feel Nathan now, inside him. So close. He wasn't giving
this up, he wasn't letting go.
Nathan.
"The same. Your heart is the same. Nathan, your heart is the same." Beryl sobbed, shook against
them.
"Mmmhmm." He was the same with Nathan, sharing his life, sharing himself. Yes.
Things got dim, slow, dark. Faded.
Suddenly, somehow, he was in a forest, running through the leaves, and the sun was beating
down around him.
Around him and his lover.
"Mate." Nathan smiled at him, eyes glowing. "We mate for life."
He threw his arms around Nathan, laughing. "Yes. My mate. My life. I love you."
"I love you. Your heart is the same as mine." Nathan stepped close.
"Yes." Geoff pressed close, laughing, hands sliding up over those strong, wonderful muscles.
Nathan was as warm as ever.
Whole. His mate was whole, smiling at him. Seeing him.
He didn't care if this was real or not. He wanted to stay here with Nathan, with his mate. He
pressed their lips together, breathing into Nathan's lips. Nathan's arms wrapped around him,
holding tight, the kiss going on and on. They could have stayed there forever, holding and
tasting, warm in the sunlight. Footsteps sounded, a lean white wolf staring at them, eyes warm, compassionate. You must make your choice. The words echoed inside his head. I choose Nathan. There was no question.
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You can stay here, together. You can run into the forest, stay with the sun. Those eyes burned into him. Or you both can return to the world of the living. Together. You will be bound, forever. Mates of the heart. Nathan looked over into the wolf's eyes, only for a moment. Will I see, if we go back?
The wolf shook his head. Not with human eyes. In your true form, yes.
Geoff held onto Nathan. "I am bound to you, Nathan. Whether we stay or go -- it's your choice. I
only want to be with you."
"No. No, Mate. You must decide; do you want a lover who cannot see you? Do you have things you would miss?" "You can see me. Just not with your eyes." He thought hard. "I would miss Anton, Greg. With you, they are my family."
Nathan took his hand. "Now? Do we have to go now?"
The big wolf shook his head, eyes still. "Take your time. Remember."
Nathan took his lips, the kiss deep and strong, beautiful eyes fastened onto his.
His heart was his mate's.
Bitten - 216
Chapter Thirty Seven
Bacon.
Sausage.
Eggs.
Biscuits.
Scones. Toast. Potatoes. Grits.
Ham and waffles and pancakes and omelettes.
Greg had left Anton sleeping at dawn and had started cooking. Five hours later, he was chopping
fruit for a salad, pouring coffee for the pack members who wandered in and out, filling their
plates.
Eating.
Letting him feed them.
It was the first time he'd felt like himself in well over a month.
Jackson came in with Nathan, the two of them holding hands. "Just wait until you taste Greg's
food, Nathan. He's a great chef."
He looked over, smiled. "Jackson. I heard last night. I was so happy for you, for you both." That
little girl... she'd saved him. She'd brought Nathan back from the edge of death.
"Thanks, Greg." Jackson leaned against Nathan, looking so happy.
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Greg had heard that Nathan couldn't see unless he was in his wolf form. The guy looked pretty happy, though. Jackson started to fill two plates.
"Are... did the other two, her fathers, did they make it through the night?" That little girl
frightened him. A lot.
"They did." Jackson set the plates down on the table, guiding Nathan to sit, handing him a fork.
"Anton. Good morning."
"Morning, Jackson. Hey, Greg, do I smell any steak?" Anton wandered in, wearing a pair of
jeans and a T-shirt. His mate came right over to him, hands sliding on him.
"No. Bacon. Ham. Eggs. Sausage. Steak isn't for breakfast." Oh, he loved this argument.
Anton growled. "Steak is for every meal."
"Growly old man."
"Do you always let him talk to you like that?" The big man from last night headed for the coffee
pot. "If he was mine, I'd spank him."
"There are enough wolves here that get off on that, Brandon." Andrea sat at the table, stretched.
"Don't corrupt Greg. I imagine there were some box springs sprung last night. Get me a coffee,
B?"
Anton growled, facing everyone at the table. "Greg is mine. He is not any of yours now, nor will
he ever be. No one touches him."
"Oh, Jesus. He's still a possessive fucker, isn't he?" Brandon didn't look scared at all.
Jackson shook his head. "Sir, no one would question Greg's devotion."
"I'm not worried about him." Anton growled a moment longer and then turned to him. "Now,
where are you hiding my steak?"
"One note song, man. Eat bacon." He dared to turn around, grinning a little, and walk away.
Anton's growl was like a familiar blanket around his shoulders. He was stopped, turned. "I want
bacon and steak."
"People in hell want ice water." God, he was having fun.
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"I'm not in hell." Anton put his hands on the counter on either side of Greg, trapping him. "And I
want my steak. I was shot. I need it."
He reached out, touching automatically, his heart aching for his mate. "I want." What he wanted
didn't come from the kitchen.
Anton rumbled softly, eyes hot, needy. "Are you done cooking?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am. I cooked a lot."
"Good. Grab me my steak from wherever you hid it and come back to our bedroom." Anton's
eyes were locked on his; it was as if no one else in the room even existed.
"How do you know I cooked you one?" It was resting in the oven.
"Because you love me." There was no doubt there, only confidence and love and his stud of an
alpha.
"You want some coffee, too?" Greg lifted his face for a kiss, moaning as Anton's mouth stole his breath clean away. Someone cleared their throat and someone else yelled out for them to get a room and, through it all, Anton kissed him.
He melted, simply melted, clinging to his alpha, his mate, his Anton.
Anton broke the kiss. "Steak, Mate."
"Uh-huh."
"God, Anton," Andrea's voice pierced through the kitchen, the fog. "Are you sure I can't have
your babies?"
Bitten - 219
Epilogue
Anton sat at his piano, playing Mozart, his fingers gliding over the keys. The acoustics in the new house were amazing. He could smell wonderful things cooking -- cinnamon and clove, meat and onions. Greg was cooking up a storm. Jackson would serve the food later; feeding the pack was one of Greg's passions. Of course, he himself was Greg's main passion. Grinning, he ran his fingers over the keys in a bright jig, and then got up and headed for the kitchen to see if Greg was done yet. There was a new tattoo on his mate's body for him to explore. He heard claws clicking on the floor, Nathan coming around the corner, huge and fuzzy, tail up. They hardly ever saw Nathan in his human form, though Anton suspected Jackson did. Of course that was like imagining his parents doing it, and he really didn't want to go there. He gave Nathan a short yip to say hello. Nathan wagged at him, nose touching his fingers. No one dared invade the place, not with Nathan on guard. Not with Nathan patrolling. "Good wolf," he murmured. He continued down the hall and went on into the enormous kitchen. The place was huge and bright, stainless steel and granite, and Greg held court there, feeding his pack, his friends. His family. There were parties here now -- huge events with drinking and dancing and food, and he enjoyed all of it, hosting with his mate at his side.
Bitten - 220
"Anton." Greg looked up from the stove, smiling at him. "There's all sorts of things to taste."
"Any steak?" He tried to bite back his grin.
"Nope. I've given it up. We're going vegetarian." Greg did manage to keep a straight face.
He growled, grabbing Greg around the waist, tugging his mate close. "The pack would tear you
to pieces. And I'll need steak to protect you."
Greg's T-shirt slipped down, exposing the edge of the howling wolf inked right over Greg's heart.
"You'll protect me. There are filets stuffed with bleu cheese."
"You're good to me, Mate." His eyes flicked to Greg's for a moment, and then he dipped his head
down to lick at the tattoo. His mark on his mate.
"You're m...mine." Greg groaned, arched into him. "I... People will be coming for the main meal,
Anton."
"Your overly-well-stocked pantry has a door." He nipped at Greg's lower lip. "You have five
seconds to turn off anything that needs turning off."
Greg squeezed his cock, rubbed. "Everything's in the resting stage."
"Then take me to your pantry." He waggled his eyebrows, hips pushing into Greg's hand.
"Perv." Greg wrapped those long fingers around his cock, tugging him into the big pantry, with
the little hidden door that led to their bedroom, their bed.
"Me? You've got your hand around my cock in the kitchen in broad daylight and I'm the perv?"
He laughed, the door closing behind them just as he heard the first people come for their food. It
was a good thing Jackson would be along to take care of their needs; and if not, they all knew
how to serve themselves.
"You want the bed, Mate?" Greg had this odd issue with fucking around the food. He didn't
understand it.
"No, I want you right here." He pushed Greg up against the door, taking his mate's mouth in a
hard, toothy kiss.
Fingers curled into his hair, tugging, keeping them close together. Greg tasted of gingerbread.
His fingers worked on opening Greg's chef's uniform, and he groaned into the kiss.
His mark shone out -- eternal, dug into his mate's skin. It made him hard, made him growl. He
tore the rest of Greg's clothes off, baring all the skin.
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"Yours. Fuck me." Greg's eyes glowed bright amber, shining at him.
"Mine." He responded to that glow, turning Greg and pushing him up against the wall again,
spreading his mate's legs with a kick.
A low growl filled the air, a sweet, addictive challenge. God, he loved that, the way Greg made
him work for it. He pulled down his slacks' zipper, his cock pushing out eagerly.
He reached for Greg's ass, knowing the plug he'd put in after lunch would still be there, knowing
those rounded cheeks were still be red and heated from his earlier attention. He rubbed his cock
against those red cheeks, his fingers bumping the plug. "Love you, mate."
"I love. Mate. Anton. Please." Greg arched back toward him, nudging him.
He grabbed the base of the plug, twisting it, pulling it partway out before pushing it in again. It
was a tease for both of them; he wanted inside Greg so badly that it was delicious torture to wait.
"Your... your steak is getting cold."
He growled, twisting the plug again. "But you're getting hot."
"Yes. Been hot. Since you... Since lunch."
"Good." He tugged the plug right out, sliding his cock right in.
Greg's cry rang out, sharp and happy, unashamed. Muffled by the heavy walls of the pantry.
"Mate," he growled. Greg's body was so tight around his cock, so good. He leaned in and bit at
the scar on the back of Greg's neck, worrying it.
"Yes. Yes, Anton. For life." Greg's head fell forward, offering him that sweet spot.
"Yes. Life."
He thrust hard and fast, pushing into Greg over and over, the scent of his mate overpowering all
the smells of food and spices. Greg panted for him, the sound sweet, calling to him, deep in his
balls.
He reached around, finding Greg's cock and wrapping his fist around it. His teeth continued to
worry at Greg's neck. They worked together, mating, rutting, driving themselves higher and
higher. He could feel the howl building from deep inside him.
When it came, it was echoed by his mate's, Greg voice joining his. His come poured into Greg
even as heat splashed over his fingers.
Panting, he collapsed against Greg.
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"Mate." Greg rumbled happily, ass still squeezing his cock. "The moon's full tomorrow. I love
the days before the full moon."
"Mmm. The beast is close. Are you ready to run tonight?" There were many joys in his life now.
Running with Greg was one of them.
"Yes, Anton. I'm ready. We'll hunt."
"Together."
Forever.
Anton put back his head and howled, hearing his pack return the call, hearing his mate return the
call.
His pack. His mate.
His home.
His.
End
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