Bloodmoon

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. Bloodmoon Copyright © 2006 by Mike Shade All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. Printed in the United States of America. Torquere Press electronic edition / January 2007 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. http://www.torquerepress.com

Bloodmoon By Mike Shade French fries. Sweat. Perfume. Semen. Horseshit. Cars. Dogs. Breath mints. Wax. Booze. Fuck. Mike could smell everything. The city was so much different than his little place out in the boonies. He loved it there -his dogs, his horses, his goats. His grandpa had lived in those trees for seventy years, left it to him five years ago and he'd jumped at the chance. Still, there was something about the lights, the smells, the crush of people all around him that made him travel to the city every few months, just to see. To explore. There was a club he liked -- filled with other men, wanton men. Needy men looking for one night of heat, of passion. Something to warm the blood. Mike paid his cover and headed into the doors of the Spanked Kitty -- and didn't he love the name, wasn't that why he came here that first night? The bar was crowded, but he muscled through, ordered himself a beer. "A brandy please, barkeep," murmured a low, sexy voice beside him. The man was tall and thin enough to find room between Mike and the guy next to him. He looked unaccountably pale in the neon lighting. Dark eyes flashed at him, caught him looking and a sardonic smile twisted the thin lips upward. Mike chucked, nodded up -- and up and up. "I didn't know people really drank brandy." "Indeed. It is a civilized choice." The man smiled down at him, look still sardonic, but not mean. "Beer gives me gas." Mike laughed, tickled. "I appreciate a man who's honest." A low chuckle answered that comment. "I thought honesty had gone out of fashion." Mike looked down at his T-shirt, jeans, red curls too long to be fashionable, too short to be sexy. "I'm not really a fashion maven."

"There's something to be said for the rough and tumble look." The way the man said it, it wasn't a complaint. Possibly even Mr. Tall and Far Too Pale was coming on to him. "Yeah? You definitely don't look rough." Not with that smooth as glass voice, the long sleek hair. "Indeed. Perhaps what they say about opposites is true." Okay. Definitely coming onto him. "I certainly hope so." He took a deep drink, letting himself take a long, slow look. The stranger's smile turned predatory and a long-fingered hand with surprisingly long and sharp nails was held out to him. "Evzen Piez Pierievoda. You may call me Steven." "That's a mouthful, Steven." He took that hand, shook it. "Mike Mills." Steven kept his hand as he answered. "It is a family name. Yours is delightfully simple in contrast." "A family name. A simple one." Simple, private. "Oh, now I am intrigued." His hand was squeezed, Steven's cool hand finally letting his go. Before he could make any sort of answer, all the lights came on and someone shouted. "Raid! Raid! Scram!" The screams started immediately, people running, scrambling toward the exits. "If we hop the bar, there is a door to the back exit at the far end," murmured Steven into his ear. "Excellent." Adrenaline flooded him and he jumped, clearing the bar easily, moving toward the exit. Out. Out. Out. He didn't do well in confined situations. He could hear footsteps right behind him, Steven he presumed, following him into the darkness. The streets were quiet but for their footfalls, the grunting of their breath. His nostrils flared, eyes darting. Which way. Which way. Steven overtook him, grabbed his hand and headed around a corner and then led him into an alley. They seemed to backtrack the way they came, zigging and zagging, turning a corner at every opportunity. He was lost, confused, moving solely on instinct.

They finally stopped, the sky having taken on that odd darkness it did before the sun came up. "It's almost morning," panted Steven. "There's a small hotel around the corner. We could get a room..." "Quick courtship." He nodded, grinned. He needed to get inside, work some of the tension out. "We were interrupted." He was given a toothy grin and Steven tugged him along again, turning one more corner and taking him into a small, shabby hotel. The smell of bodies and sex and such was strong, but not stomach-turning, so he went, following that long, lean form. He couldn't say that Steven was known here, but the man was obviously familiar enough with the routine of such places, handing over cash and receiving a key in short order. The name on the register said Smith. "Fourth floor." Steven seemed in a hurry, moving them up the stairs and into a dark, simple room as if they were being chased. Steven closed the curtains, making sure they were properly shut and then he turned, dark eyes seeming almost to glow. "I need, Mike." The sound that rumbled from him was almost a growl, skin tingling, the adrenaline catching him. "Did you say you liked to play rough?" "I did." Steven flew at him, slamming him up against the wall, mouth hard enough on his that his lip split on his teeth. He did growl this time, pushing into the kiss, grinding back into Steven's length. Steven's tongue lapped at his split lip, the pain sharp and good. The long-fingered hands slid into his curls, held his head in place, and Steven gave as good as he got, hips pushing. Mike tugged, the man's shirt coming away with a snarl, skin cool under his burning palms. "Yes," hissed Steven, pushing into his touch, mouth moving to find his neck. He pushed his hands into Steven's pants, tugging them together, hips grinding. His own shirt was tugged off, his pants torn open, Steven's show of strength impressive, even more arousing. Steven's cock rubbed on his belly, and his own was caught against Steven's thigh, leaving hot, wet kisses. Steven made a low noise, teeth sinking into his skin, marking him. "Shit!" Hot, sharp, fuck it felt good. His hips moved faster, humping against Steven's leg.

Steven bent his knees slightly, bringing their cocks together, one hand wrapping around them and pulling hard. "This first. Fucking next." "Yes..." He bit his teeth against the howl that wanted out, fingers digging into Steven's shoulders. "Yes." Steven's hand was hard on their cocks, tugging and pulling, all but demanding his orgasm. Another bite split the skin on his shoulder, Steven's need hard and sure. Mike's throat worked, spunk spraying from him as his nerves overloaded. Steven whispered his name, almost like a prayer, and came, heat splashing against him. They stayed still for a minute, both just panting, heated. Then Steven grabbed him by the ass and started moving backwards, pulling him down on top of the lean body as Steven fell onto the bed. He groaned, leaned to take a kiss, the flavor of copper sharp on Steven's lips. Steven met his kiss, tongue slick and agile, pushing into his mouth, lapping, tasting. Oh, the man was hungry. It felt good. Tasted good. Smelled good. Those long nails slid along his back, catching on his hair, on his skin, scrapping at him. He growled low, pushing down against Steven, rubbing, hard again already. "Careful." Steven spread for him. "Oh, I think I can handle anything you have to give." He groaned, leaned down to lick and lap at the pale skin. "Fuck, you're pretty." Steven hummed, pushing up into his touches, rubbing against him. "And you are very male. Heady." He rumbled his thanks, tongue exploring one nipple, a collarbone, a long throat. Steven was so responsive, moaning and gasping, body writhing beneath him. Steven's hands continued their own explorations as well, touching firmly, sliding over his skin, through the hair on his body. His cock ached, so hard, so ready again. Steven's cock was equally hard, burning between them. "You want me," murmured Steven, eyes glittering. "Take me." He nodded, trying to reach his pants without leaving the bed to get the stuff in his pocket. Steven growled. "Don't make me wait, Mike."

"Pushy, pushy." He growled back, nudging Steven with his head. Steven laughed, the sound husky, delighted. The warm fingers pushed through the curls on his head, and he was tugged up, mouth taken in another hard kiss. "What's the matter, Mike? Don't you like pushy?" His cock throbbed and he nipped Steven's bottom lip. Oh, he liked. He liked a lot. Steven bit back, hard enough to draw blood, dark eyes just glittering at him, body pushing from beneath him, demanding. "Let me get covered up and I'll fuck you 'til you scream." After all, it was only polite. "Oh, now that I want to feel." Steven bit at his lip again and then settled back, body moving, sensuous, teasing. He got gloved and slicked, settling right between Steven's legs, lining up. "You ready?" "More than you can imagine," murmured Steven, legs going back, knees near his ears. "Show me what you've got, Mike." "Mmm..." His eyes rolled and he pushed in, burying himself in deep. Steven moaned, pushing up to meet his hips, eyes almost glowing. "Nice. Thick. More." He nodded, just ducked his head down and started rutting, pushing deep and hard, filling the tight hole with every inch. Long legs wrapped around his waist, Steven not just lying there and taking it, but participating, making it even better. Those long nails scrapped at his skin, the sharp teeth nipping his lips, his chin, his neck. Steve was a wild one all right. Pleasure pushed up along his spine, hot and wild, and he growled low, muscles going tense. Steven's teeth sunk into the skin above his heart, Steven's fingers pinching his nipple hard as the man bucked beneath him. Lights sparked behind his eyes, hips snapping as he came. Heat sprayed up between them, Steven's scream sweet in his ears. The long body went limp beneath him, arms and legs holding him tight. He groaned, holding himself up by sheer force of will. "I'm not going to melt if you lie on me, Mike." That sardonic smile was back, the words teasing.

"I'm heavy." "I thought I'd already proved I could take what you have to give. Let me feel you." Mike groaned, weight settling down on Steven, lips brushing the sharp jaw. Steven hummed. "There we go. Now I can really feel you." His back was stroked, Steven's hands sliding as far as his ass every third or fourth pass, petting. "You mind if a take a nap here?" he asked. The place wasn’t filthy, smelled of dust and people, but not terribly so. "As long as you don't mind if I poke you in the ribs if you start snoring." "That sounds fair." He wasn't a deep sleeper, a poke would do it. Steven shifted and he slid out of the tight heat, those long-fingered hands taking care of the condom like magic. "Thank you." He was rumbling, purring, sinking deeper into sleep. Those hands sliding over his skin followed him all the way.

Chapter Two It was several weeks after he'd snuck out of the hotel room at sunset before Steven realized that he wasn't that hungry. Still. Three weeks. And he hadn't even fed very much from the most delectable Mike. The man was an animal in bed and tasted sweet and male in his mouth. And his blood filled Steven up. Unheard of. He usually had to feed at least once a week and was usually ravenous by the time he found his next meal. At first he thought it was maybe because they'd had sex while he was feeding. Not that he hadn't before, but this had been adrenaline charged, surging, wild fucking. So he set out to reproduce the night. With no success. In the end there was only one thing for it. He had to find Mike Mills. He started at the Spanked Kitty but no one had heard of Mike. Either by name or description. Well. That would teach him to fuck and run. He supposed he should consider himself lucky he knew the man's name. He checked the phone books and the utility companies and came up with a Mills Farm outside of the city limits. He waited until dusk and then set out, relieving a drunken patron of the local pub of his car keys and subsequently, his car. And outside of the city he went, searching for Mills Farm. The place was deep in the trees, the paved road turning to gravel, then to dirt. So very uncivilized, really, but there hadn’t been a lot of the genteel about Mike. The dirt road ended abruptly, the huge gate seeming to appear out of nowhere, a wolf's head worked into the iron. Mills Farm. It seemed somehow appropriate for Mike, so he had good hope that this was indeed the place to find the man. Steven got out of the car, noting the scent of horses and dogs. Well, if nothing else, he'd eat well tonight. Dogs were his favorite meal aside from humans, horses right behind them. He looked for a way to open the gate or some sort of bell mechanism. A huge pack of wolfhounds, big as ponies and pale grey, came out of the trees, staring at him, panting. One, a big male, threw back his head, howled. He raised his eyebrows, watching them. He could smell them, smell the musk of them, smell their blood.

"Are you the doorbell?" he asked the howler. The lights by the gate came on in a flood, the sound of footsteps coming up to the gate. Steven braced himself, ready for anything. Maybe this wasn't Mike Mills but some other Mills. Maybe it was Mike but he wasn't going to be happy to see Steven. He could feel excitement in his belly though. Maybe the man was going to be more than happy to see him and they could pick back up where they'd left off. Those shaggy dark red curls appeared, the chiseled jaw hidden by a scruffy beard. "Who's there?" "Not a very friendly welcome you offer, Mike." Mike stopped, blinked, then smiled wide. "Well, Steven. Hello." The dogs circled Mike fighting and pushing for his attention. Steven grinned. "Hey there. I was hoping you'd be happy to see me." "I am. Hold on, I'll unlock the gate." Mike reached down, whispering low to the dogs who dispersed, moving back into the trees as quietly as they came. "You can drive in." "Excellent." He waited until Mike opened the door and then took the man's shirt collar in his hands and pulled Mike in, taking a nice, hard kiss. Mike's blood sang just below the surface, a soft, seductive sound that begged him to bite and release all that life into his mouth. He was good. He only nipped a bit, didn't draw any blood. He heard a low, rich rumble -- almost a purr, almost a growl. "Nice to see you." "I know the feeling," he murmured. "I wanted to apologize for taking off on you, but I had an appointment I had to keep." "Come up to the house? You can make it up to me." "I was hoping that's where we'd be headed." He gave Mike a grin. "Drive up with me?" It would be good to get the car hidden away where it wouldn't be seen. Mike nodded. "I'll need to, the house pack is different than the east woods’ pack." "Pardon me?" He climbed into the car and waited for Mike to join him. "I raise dogs. We have four independent packs. They're very territorial."

"And because you were with this... pack, the ones at the house will... attack you?" It seemed rather barbaric, but then he lived off the blood of others, so he supposed he was not one to judge. "No, but the east woods' pack knows you. The house pack does not. You'll be seen as an intruder without me." "I take it that would be a bad thing," he said dryly. For the dogs. "It could be, yes. I live a very... private life." Mike's eyes seemed to flash for a moment, bright and fine as the moonlight caught them. He nodded. "I know all about privacy." He followed the laneway to an old farmhouse, breathing in deeply. Having the scent of Mike so close was intoxicating. He licked his lips, half wishing he'd bitten the man's lip earlier, drawn blood. Of course then he wouldn't have been able to hold back, he would have jumped the man's bones then and there. The dogs here were shepherds, small, but more numerous, seeming more intent, more aggressive. Mike got out of the car and they flocked to him, his low sounds soothing them. Steven cracked his window. "You'll let me know when it's safe." He didn't want to have to get aggressive himself. He could do some damage and he had a feeling that would put a crimp in their plans for the rest of the night. Mike seemed rather fond of the dogs. "You can come out. They know you're a friend." One dog came up, stared at him, eyes bright and blue. "That's Mal. He's the alpha." "Do I stare back or is it that I'm not supposed to?" He never could remember which animals took that as a sign of aggression or not. "Stare back, otherwise you're admitting submission." Ah. Good to know. And he could do that. "Hello, Mal. I hear you're the alpha and that I'm supposed to stare back so as not to admit submission." He grinned and aimed his next comment at Mike, though he continued to stare down the dog. "Though the last time I submitted, I believe your top man discovered I was not the submissive type." Mike chuckled low and Mal's tail wagged. "Come on out, I'll make coffee." He exited the car, pleased when the dogs seemed to want little more than to sniff at him. He wondered where the other two packs were and just how closely Mike monitored them. Would the man notice if one went missing? Of course that was presuming that Mike

himself wouldn't be a willing provider. Or unwilling. Mike had never guessed the bites he'd inflicted last time had been more than just him enjoying it a little rough. Mike's house was made from logs -- rough-hewn and good-sized, the door unusually heavy, twice as thick as normal, creaking on iron hinges. "Wow. Rustic." He hoped the inside had all the amenities. He'd had enough of living without them the first century of his existence. Plumbing was one of man’s more wonderful inventions. "Solid. It was my grandfather's and his father's. I've spend the last three years improving the interior." Oh, and the inside was warm and glowing, country, but comfortable, fine. "I bet it's something else in the winter." The door closed behind him with a solid thunk and something sent a shiver up his spine. Something in the air. "It's perfect. Would you like some coffee, Steven?" Mike seemed larger here, movements surprisingly silent. "If you're having some. I'm easy." The easiest fuck around. If you discounted the nibbling. "Make yourself at home." Mike disappeared into what he assumed was the kitchen, leaving him to explore. Which was just what he wanted to do, see if he could figure out what it was about Mike that made his blood so filling. Of course it could just have been a fluke. And the only way to test that little theory was to fuck, drink, see how long it lasted. Hell, he was almost high from it just from being here, from having it so close. He started with the pictures on the mantle. The photos showed wolves, dogs, puppies, one after another. There was a single photograph of a redheaded couple with a boy between them. It had to be Mike's parents. The dog thing though. Weird. Man was just a little obsessed. Mike came in, two cups of coffee in hand. "How do you take yours?" "I'm easy, remember?" He nodded toward the pictures. "You really like your dogs." "They're my family." Mike handed a mug over, fingers touching his. The electricity was still there between them and it made him catch his breath. "Your family is dogs?" "Yes." Mike stepped closer. "You didn't come to ask about my family, did you?"

"No, I didn't." He put his coffee mug down on the mantle, took Mike's and put it next to his. Then he grabbed Mike's shirt collar again and tugged him in for a kiss. It wasn't even a heartbeat before Mike's passion met his, slammed up hard against him, fire blazing. He did bite Mike's lip this time, sucking the blood into himself, careful not to be greedy. It was hard though, the higher their passion flared, the more they both wanted, the more he needed to suck. "Hungry." Mike walked them back to a huge leather sofa. "Here first, then the bed." He nodded. "Sounds good. I'm easy." He laughed and bit at Mike's jaw, drawing up a few more drops of blood and lapping them away with his tongue. He moaned as the flavor shot through him. "Fuck." Mike growled, sat back on the couch and pulled him onto the strong thighs. "More." "Gonna let me do you this time, big boy?" "Mmm... you alpha enough to do it?" The words were tough, the tone husky and playful. He threw his head back and laughed. "Just watch me." He held Mike's eyes, bending to take his mouth again, fingers tugging open the man's shirt. The moonlight hit those eyes and they sparked again, the look wild, feral, sharp for a heartbeat. Oh, sexy. And he loved it when someone could meet his heat and strength head on. He bent and took another bite, this time Mike's neck, licking the sweet blood as it welled up. Mike grabbed his ass, pushed them together. "Shit, you've got sharp teeth." He licked his lips, rubbing against Mike. "Too rough for you, Mike?" He knew it was a dare the way he said it, knew he was challenging what was most definitely an Alpha male. It made it that much more exciting. "There's nothing you have I can't take, Steven." Rough and husky, Mike met his challenge, answered it. "Then take off your pants. I'd hate to ruin your best pair." He backed off long enough to pull off his own clothes. The silk of his shirt slid and the leather of his pants clung, arousing him further.

Mike's jeans weren't tight, came off easily, as did the simple button down, leaving him the strong, broad man bare for him, heavy cock full and red. Oh, yes. He leapt, pounced, pushing Mike back down onto the couch and attacking the man's mouth. Mike groaned, tongue pushing against his own, sliding against his teeth. He'd grabbed the condom out of his pocket and he worked it on now. "You need to be opened up, big boy? Or are you going to just take me?" "Anything you can dish out." "Then spread 'em, Mike." He pushed Mike's legs apart with his knees, calling on his strength to tilt the man forward off the couch. "Fuck, you're strong." Mike moved with him, muscles rippling. "I am." He pushed his cock into Mike's heat, moaning at the tightness, the heat. He had to give a little shove to push past the initial resistance and then he just sank right in. Mike growled, body rippling, ass gripping him incredibly tight. It made him hot, made his cock throb and he bent, teeth sinking into the skin above Mike's nipple, starting to hump as he started to suck. "Fuck!" Mike's hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, hips bucking. He sucked as long as he dared, feeling the strength fill him, the euphoria. His hips kept moving, kept shoving as he wrapped one hand around Mike's cock. Mike never seemed to flag, the heart beating strongly, power and strength pouring into him. He took more than he'd ever taken from a man and then let go with a gasp, pushing harder and harder, determined to send Mike right over the edge. Mike didn't even look pale; in fact, the long body was flushed, eyes closed. God, it was sexy. He scrapped his nails down along Mike's chest, hard enough to draw blood, and then bent to lap it up, the pleasure just dancing on his skin. This could become an addiction. Mike arched, come pouring over the rippled belly, hot and wet. He opened his mouth on a soundless scream, Mike's tight body pulling his own orgasm out of him. Mike panted, rumbling and moving beneath him. He slid out and got rid of the condom before settling back on Mike's chest. He could feel the man's blood just thrumming through him. He'd put these sensations down to the adrenaline pumping last time, but it was the blood. Mike's blood.

"Not bad, Mike. Not bad at all." Mike purred, hands moving and sliding. "Nope. We'll have to do it again." He chuckled, pushing into the warm touches, enjoying them all the way through his body. "We will." "Can you stay a while? You haven't seen my bed." "I was hoping you'd invite me. Otherwise I was going to have to invent car trouble or something." "Save that for later." Mike grinned, the smile wicked, happy. "I have a big bed." "Then let’s see it, Mike. Let’s see it." *** Mike’s bed was huge, comfortable, a nest of pillows and blankets, covered by a set of huge curtains. It had been built into the cabin by his great-grandfather and it was his favorite place on earth. He could remember sitting with his grandmother, hands in her long silver hair. "Mikhail, beloved, this is our sanctuary. Our own place. Our haven." He had never brought a stranger into it before this night. The sheets smelled of him, of life and dreams and fantasy and he rumbled low as he crawled in. "Come in." Steven followed, long, pale body almost shimmering in the moonlight before Steven closed the curtains tight. Mike purred a little, shifting, finding the perfect spot. Then he reached for Steven, drew him close. Steven pressed and rubbed against him, eyes hot, fingers sliding on him, almost petting. "Mmm... warm." He nuzzled into the man's neck, licking and lapping, tasting. "Yeah, you are." Steve grinned down at him, eyes glittering. "And sexy." Steven's tongue came out, slid along his lower lip. He rumbled happily, chasing Steven's tongue languidly with his own. "You said something about another round," murmured Steven, climbing onto him.

"Absolutely." His hands found Steven's ass, squeezed. "Excellent." Steven's teeth slid along his lips, threatening. He chuckled, this man had an oral fixation. "Still hungry?" "Always," murmured Steven before stopping and staring down at him. "Less so with you though. You must be something special." Something in him stuttered, hiccupped. "Me?" Steven chuckled. "Most people look happier at being told they're special, Mike." "Oh. Right." Of course. He smiled, winked up. "You caught me by surprise." "You haven't had the right lovers if none of them have ever told you that before," Steven murmured, mouth moving to his jaw, licking and sucking. He chuckled. "You're the first one who's found me for a second night." He tended to fuck and run, heading home before the tip of the moon. "What can I say? I couldn't get you out of my blood." A sharp nip broke the skin on his jaw, Steven licking, laughing softly. "Careful. I might bite back." And that could be... complicating. Steven laughed again. "I might enjoy that." "I bite hard." When he had to, when he needed to. Steven purred. "I can bite hard." Steven's thin nose slid along his neck, up and down and then the bite came, and it was indeed hard. He growled, energy surging through him. "Careful..." Steven looked up at him, eyes glowing, sexy. "And is your bite worse than your bark, big boy?" The animal within him leapt, muscles bunching and he rolled them, suddenly strong teeth sliding on Steven's skin. Steven gasped and pushed against him, flipping him off, nostrils flaring. "Oh. You startled me."

He sniffed the air, perched on the edge of the bed. Something was... off. "You're very strong." "I am today." Steven held out a hand and tugged him back. "As I said -- you startled me." He noticed the blood from the bite at his throat was dripping, leaving heated trails on his chest. Steven reached out and slid a finger along one of the trails. "Sexy, big boy. You are very sexy." That long finger went into Steven's mouth, the man sucking on it. "That's unsanitary." He winked, chuckled. "It is? Oh my..." Of course that didn't stop Steven from doing it again. He leaned in, licked Steven's lips, the finger in the smiling mouth. Steven made a purring noise, tongue sliding out to play with his. Mike pushed closer, rubbed, his blood sticky between them. Steven's eyes rolled back in his head. "Oh... Mike... " "Call me Mikhail... " His instincts surged again, and he moaned, licking and lapping at Steven's lips, hands on the thin ass. "Mikhail?" Steven moaned and pushed up against him. "I like it. I like you." "Good." They tumbled together, hips moving together. Steven's shaft burned against his skin, so hot. Steven licked the blood from his chest and pushed his tongue into Mike's mouth. "Mikhail. Mikhail. Mikhail." It made him shudder, his true name on those lips. "Yes..." "Make love to me, Mikhail." He nodded, turning Steven so he could lick and taste that long, thin spine. Arching, Steven moaned, skin hot. He growled low, body rippling, tongue sliding down and down to circle the tight hole. "Mikhail!" His name was shouted, a shudder moving through Steven. He rumbled, beginning to pant, need riding him as he rocked and tasted. Steven spread so beautifully for him, body bucking back, wanton, sexy. His hand worked his own cock, fingers spreading the wet heat leaking from him over his shaft. "I can smell you, Mikhail," whispered Steven.

He groaned, the sound wild, nostrils flaring. "Need." "Take." The word was hissed, Steven pushing back against him. He roared, pushing up and covering Steven with his body, teeth grabbing Steven's nape. "Yes!" Steven pushed back against him, taking everything he had, demanding more. They rutted, the lovemaking set aside again for raw need. Steven was perfect -- hot and wet and tight around his cock. Steven's noises were animal, the long body pushing back into him like a wild thing. Their sounds grew, echoed, his own animal surging forward. Steven's body squeezed tight around him, a sharp cry sounding as Steven came. His teeth held Steven tight, hips bucking, driving, his seed filling Steven's body. Steven collapsed onto the bed, moaning softly. "Oh. Yes, Mikhail." He purred, covering Steven with his body, rubbing slowly. "Yes." Steven reached back and found his hand, twining their fingers together. "Stay?" He licked the blood at Steven's nape, frowning. It tasted like him. How odd. Steven nodded. "Yes." "Good." He cuddled in, covering Steven's body. "Glad you came." Steven laughed softly. "I'm glad I got to come, too." He chuffed, slapping Steven's ass easily. Steven's chuckles faded, turned into a pleased noise. "You're very warm, Mikhail. I like it." "I'm always warm. High metabolism." "How lovely." Steven cuddled back against him. "Mmm... it's late. How early do you usually eat?" "I'm not much for mornings actually." "No? Oh, that's good news." He tended to follow the moon himself. "I'm more a... night owl." Steven chuckled. "The sun makes me cranky."

He chuckled. "I can understand that. Sort of." "I usually sleep the day away and play all night. Can you understand that?" There was a weight to the words. "Yes. I have to feed at dusk and dawn. Do business, but I understand." "Feed? Oh. Your dogs." Steven nodded. "Don't wake me at dawn." "Lazy." He nodded, chuckled, then yawned. "Something like that," murmured Steven. "Good to know." He'd worry about how long Steven was going to stay... later. *** Steven woke up as Mike was leaving to make his dawn feedings. Growling, he closed the thick curtains tight, he could feel the sun, crouching beyond the curtains. He wrapped himself in the blankets, hiding himself in case Mike left the curtains open when he returned to bed. He supposed he should have told Mike about his sensitivity, but he didn't want Mike to freak and besides, he felt strong with Mike's blood inside him, powerful and able to withstand more sun than he had in years. There was definitely something in Mike's blood. The sheets were soft and warm, smelled of Mike. It was very earthy, grounded. He let it lull him back to sleep. He really wasn't a morning person. He woke hours later as the heat that had returned, had been curled around him faded, Mike slipping out again. Mike was a snuggler, wrapping around him, holding on. He wasn't, not usually, but Mike's warmth had been good, hadn't faded as he'd leeched it away into his own body. He wasn't sure if that was another special feature of the man himself, or because of the quality of the blood he'd taken. He dozed a bit longer, waiting until his body felt the sun was firmly away and then he stretched and climbed out of the bed, wandered naked through the house. Mike was in a pair of tissue-thin jeans, sitting on the front porch with the dogs -- wolves? No surely not -- surrounding him. He'd thought the house pack was German shepherds, but these... He opened the window and leaned out. "Morning," he called. Mike smiled over, nodded. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. Someone likes to snuggle." He grinned, teased. Heavens, he felt good. Mike blushed, grinned, a fat, happy puppy crawling into his lap, tail wagging furiously. "What kind of dogs are those?" he asked, deciding to stay at the window. He didn't want anything getting any ideas with his dangling bits. "They're not dogs." A blue-eyed beast nudged at Mike's hand, demanding attention. "They are wolves then? Isn't that a little dangerous?" He wasn't very fond of wolves. Dogs didn't have that sixth sense about his kind the way wolves did. He took a half a step back. "Not for me." No, indeed, the wolves seemed to look at Mike like one of their own, like a pack member. He frowned. "And what about the dogs that were here yesterday? Surely they don't like the wolves?" There was something to this. Something that itched at the back of his head. "We all have an arrangement." Mikhail rumbled softly, crooned, the wolves singing back. "What are you?" Steven asked, that itching getting stronger. "Hmm?" Those eyes met his, the moonlight catching them, making them glow. "A changeling," he murmured, stepping back again, an ages old instinctive fear filling him. The werewolves and vampires were mortal enemies, always had been. Of course he'd believed them to be extinct ever since he himself had been made over two hundred years ago. He himself was of the last of the vampires, the Elder Folk long ago decimated by each other and humans. Mikhail's nose flared, eyes narrowing. "I have given you no reason to fear." True enough and it would certainly solve the mystery of the long-lasting effects of Mikhail's blood. "But you have hidden your nature." The wolves drew around Mikhail like an army, the largest one lifting his head, giving short, sharp barks. Mikhail's hair seemed to go on edge. "Rinar says I am not the only one, nightfeeder." He inclined his head. "No. I guess you are not. Though I never hid my pleasure at the taste of your blood, Mikhail." His clothes were behind him. He could make a dash for the car. Fueled as he was by Mikhail's blood, he would have speed. The car would protect him as he made his run...

The sound of his name seemed to ease Mike, the tension sliding away somewhat. "Neither of us gave anything unwilling." "No, we did not." He relaxed marginally. He wanted to live, not war with a werewolf on his own territory, surrounded by dogs and wolves. He licked his lips. It went against every instinct inside him to stay, but the world had changed since his sire was in his prime. "Perhaps we have more common ground than our ancestors did." "I simply wish to live in peace, to raise my family." Mikhail moved onto the porch, watching him. "I have told no one my true name. Invited no man to my bed. No one but you." Steven nodded. "And I am not in the habit of stranding myself in another's territory." He moved closer to the window again, looking out. "My instincts are screaming, Mikhail. Our people were never allies." Even now the urge to fly at Mikhail and drain him, consequences be damned, was strong. "No one is barring you. If you wish to go, you will not be stopped. Fair warning, if my family is exposed, I will avenge each one." "I have no desire to expose you, moonwolf." He backed away again, pulling on his clothing. Going was the best option. He could not stay here with this shape-shifter. It went against everything he was, everything he'd read, known. Once dressed, he pulled open the front door carefully. "Keep them away from me, Mikhail. I will not hesitate to defend myself." "We will not hold you." Mikhail knelt down, the wolves milling about him, calling softly. It raised the hair on the back of his neck and he kept an eye on them as he moved out onto the porch and then to his car, moving quickly. Mikhail watched him, eyes quiet, so still, muscles lit by the moon. Steven was sad to give this up, to take away the source of the blood that made his whole body sing with strength, with satiation. But it was crazy to stay, wasn't it? He got into his car and turned it on, taking the overgrown lane as quickly as he dared.

Chapter Three Mike didn't return to the city until the snows threatened, spending the long summer running with the pack and finding homes for the growing puppies. He did not spend time berating himself for being a fool, for bringing a feeder into the pack. He didn't have to. His pack did it for him. Still, he was a changeling and could not stay furry forever and needed things. Things like coffee, a few good novels to get him through the winter, and sex. He'd put in a huge load of supplies, knowing that, once the snows started, he'd be in the woods, in the cabin. As soon as it was all locked away in his truck, he went prowling. The same old bar, the same old queens and pretty little twinks, the same beer. This time he drank deep and quick, not lingering before heading to the dance floor, looking for a quickie before he drove home. He smelled Steven before he saw him. The man smelled of good sex and brandy, of the moon. And he was looking thinner than ever, maybe even gaunt. Like he was sick or something, leaning against a table that butted up against the dance floor. Their eyes met and Mike was caught in them a minute. He should just go. This was the nightfeeder's territory. Steven straightened and came toward him. His feet seemed rooted in place. Then one long arm went around his shoulders, Steven pressing close and swaying with him to the music. "I'm flattered, big boy," murmured Steven. "You missed me." He opened his mouth to argue, but Steven was right. He had. "I needed to stock up for the winter." "You think a single night will do you until spring?" Steven asked, smile sardonic. The look in his eyes wasn't though. Steven looked hungry, haunted. "No, but I'll make do." They danced, bodies close, rubbing, his cock aching and full. The lights flashed, making Steven's dark eyes glow, the lean body cold in the heat of the club. "You're cold." He growled, worried, hands drawing Steven close. "I haven't been warm in weeks," Steven told him, pressing closer still.

The urge to pick the thin man up, wrap him up and hold him was unreasonable. Steven leaned in and breathed in deeply. "I can smell you, Mikhail." He growled, his true name reverberating within him. "I want you, Steven." "Yes. Let’s get out of here." He nodded, moving them toward the door, out into the street where the threat of snow was on the wind. Steven shivered, pressed closer. "Hurry, Mikhail, I can't abide this cold." "Where? I wasn't staying. I only have my truck." "How long is it back to your place?" Those dark eyes met his, filled with need. "An hour. Forty-five minutes if I hurry, but it's warm there. There's the bed." Steven shivered and nodded. "Will you let me have a taste first, Mikhail? Please." He cupped the thin face, protective, possessive feelings washing through him. "Yes. Yes, I will." Steven made a noise, mouth attaching to his, hot and desperate, teeth scraping along his lip, drawing blood. He walked them into an alley, hiding Steven with his body. Steven whimpered, licking at the blood on his lip, mouth wrapping around his lip and sucking. Mikhail moaned, pulled away from the kiss and lifted his chin, offer Steven a deep drink. Steven hissed at him, fingers curling tight around his biceps. "Are you sure?" "Are you coming to the house?" Steven nodded. "I... I can't go the whole winter without you." "Then drink. You can drive to the house." His hand wrapped around the back of Steven's head, pulled him close. Steven made a noise and then latched onto his throat, the bite sharp, deep. He growled, jerking, his fingers squeezing instinctively. Steven drank deeply, moans vibrating against his skin. It didn't last that long, he didn't feel weak or anything, but when Steven pulled back and looked at him, tongue licking along his lips, eyes glittering, he knew the man had taken what he needed. "Oh. I thought

I'd never feel this way again. Not without draining a human completely." Steven laughed softly. "They frown upon that apparently." "They do. Silly humans." His voice was a raw growl. "Come. It's cold." "Is it?" Steven laughed, eyes positively glowing. "Somehow it doesn't seem so bad now." Steven stopped suddenly, hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes. "I didn't take too much, did I?" "No." He smiled, leaned in and licked Steven's lips. "Good." Steven hummed, tongue tangling with his. "I could have drunk forever. You're intoxicating, Mikhail. You make me feel so good. I've never felt anything like it." "My blood is unique." He nuzzled, almost purring. "I dreamt of you." "Of me?" Steven had grabbed his hand, led him back out to the street. "Your car, Mikhail. Before I take you in this back alley and give you what you have been dreaming of." "Truck. I drive a truck." The truck and trailer were packed and he made room for Steven beside him. Steven snuggled up next to him. "You really expected me to drive this thing?" "You would have managed." He started down the road, one arm around Steven as he drove, easy, just like that. Steven rubbed against him. "If I'd had to, yes. Heavens, I feel good. Like I could do anything." He chuckled, fingers petting. "Even a changeling?" Steven laughed, the sound that same uninhibited noise he remembered from before. "Even a changeling, Mikhail." He purred at the sound of his name, body rippling. "Good." "Maybe especially a changeling." Steven's teeth threatened his earlobe. Oh, yes. The growl bubbled from his belly. "Just maybe?" "Pushy," murmured Steven, nose sliding along his throat, pushing against the marks on his skin where Steven had bitten him. "Mmm... take care. I'm driving."

"How much longer is it going to be?" He could feel Steven's cock rubbing against his side. "Forty-five minutes." He growled low. "I want you." "There's a road just out of the city limits, very quiet and this front seat seems very solid." Steven's hand stole into his lap. "It is. Very. Where?" His thighs went tight, cock leaping. "About a mile up past the 'thank you for visiting' sign." Steven laughed softly. "The one you just blew by. On the right, any second now." That hand slid along his muscles. He saw the road, turned down it and parked, pushing the steering wheel up. "Steven." Steven didn't say anything, just brought their mouths together, tongue pushing in. He opened easily, dragging them together with a groan. He'd needed. So badly. Steven straddled his thighs, rubbing against him, hot and wild in his arms. Steven's ass fit into his hands, and he scooted down so their cocks rubbed together. "Yes." Steven hissed the word, teeth biting at his lips, his jaw, tiny pinpricks of sensation sparking along his skin. The passion grew, pushing higher and higher, making him buck and jerk. Steven's fingers tore at his pants, sharp nails scraping as Steven pulled out his prick. "Yes!" He arched, fingers pulling them closer. "More. Need." Steven ripped open the leather ties on his own pants, wrapping both cocks in his hand and pumping hard. Mike’s head fell back, hitting the window as he thrust. Steven's breath panted from him, skin hot now, blazing whereever they touched. His howl echoed in the cab, his suddenly sharp teeth proof of how much control he'd lost. Steven's mouth found his tongue sliding along his teeth, a moan pushing into his mouth as heat splashed against him. They smelled good together -- strong and male, right -- and he nuzzled in, panting. Steven seemed to be reveling in it, pushing against him, neck going back to let him scent the pale skin. "Mmm..." He licked and lapped, scenting Steven, breathing the man in. "Heavens, Mikhail. I'm never going to let you out of that bed again."

He chuckled, nibbled a little. "You say that, but you haven't seen me when the moon is full." "You'll have to tell me all about it." Steven purred. "Or show me." "Give me..." He looked at the moon. "Five days and I will." Steven purred and rubbed against him, tongue licking at the cuts along his jaw. "I love the moon. Her touch is a gentle kiss. Better than firelight, candles, anything." "She's magic. We run while she's full." He was vulnerable then, ruled by the laws of the pack. "We?" Steven settled back next to him, fingers touching, stroking. "Tell me about it while you drive, Mikhail. Before I decide I can't wait until we get to your bed again." Mikhail nodded, purred. "We've got forty-five minutes. That's plenty of time." After that? They had all winter. *** The drive had seemed interminable, but not as long as the last months had. Steven hadn't known when he left Mike's farm that he was leaving the best thing that had ever happened to him. He'd been sailing on Mike's blood for weeks. And then he'd crashed. Hard. No matter how much he took, it wasn't enough. He'd nearly killed one girl, draining her of more than she could give. He'd taken a big dog, but that had only reminded him of Mike, left him shaky and needing. By the time Mike had found him, he'd been starving, unable to get warm, ready to find someone who might not be missed and take all their blood. Instead he'd found Mike and here they were. In the changeling's lair. Mike was tending his dogs, had left Steven alone in the house and he wandered it restlessly, Mike's blood singing in him. What he'd taken hadn't even thrown Mike for a second. It was exciting, thrilling. Necessary. The place was still homey, but it seemed... dusty, disused, as if Mikhail had been away. He made his way into the bedroom, closing the curtains. He knew the bed had thick drapes, but he felt safer with the windows themselves hidden. The bed was huge, sturdy, beautiful. A lair. He wondered suddenly what Mikhail looked like, changed.

He went back to the pictures in the living room, looking for some clue. Now that he knew, he could tell that some of the animals were bigger, stronger, the eyes that familiar nut-brown. Were these Mikhail or family members? He knew that the shape-shifters passed their line on directly, unlike his own kind who had to make their kin. The door opened, Mikhail shaking water from his hair. "Beginning to rain." Steven chuckled, the move had been so like a dog's. "I bet you like being out in the water." "I do, especially when it's warm." He got a wolfish grin, the action obvious now that he knew to look. "So which one of these are you?" he asked, indicating the pictures. "The one on the far left and the one with my folks." Oh. Huge and dark, with those warm eyes, tongue lolling out. "Will you try to kill me when you change, I wonder?" All that animal instinct coming to the fore... "No." The word was sure, unequivocally so. "Such certainty..." He wanted to believe. He did. "You know my name. You are my..." Mikhail blushed, turned away suddenly. "Would you like coffee? Do you take enjoyment from food? Drink?" "I can. In small amounts. You are my favorite meal." He went over to Mikhail and slid his arms over the broad shoulders. The man was warm, his own personal furnace. He purred, pushing close. "I bet you like meat, Mikhail. Bloody and red." "I do. I like bacon, too." They wandered into the kitchen, Mikhail making coffee. "I like the bloody part," Steven noted with a grin. "But really, I need it live." He ran his fingers along Mikhail's jaw, fingers drawn to the little cuts and scratches his teeth had left. Mikhail turned, nipping at his fingers playfully. He chuckled, pressing close. "I don't really want any coffee, Mikhail." "No?" Mikhail purred, eyes flashing. "What do you want then?" "To try your bed out again. To get fucked by the big dog." He snapped his teeth near Mikhail's ear.

Mikhail growled. "Careful. I bite back." "Promise?" Mikhail pushed closer, teeth threatening, strong and sharp on his shoulder. "Promise." He whimpered, excitement going through him. "Fuck, Mikhail. Please. Bed and fuck me through it." "Yes." Mikhail lifted him, carried him through the house to that amazing bed. He was set, not quite gently, on the ground. "Strip." He laughed, exhilarated and did as he was told. This time. Mikhail followed his own order, baring that hard, muscled body to him. That young, strong, virile, muscled body. Once they were both naked, he reached out, sliding his fingers through Mikhail's chest hair, moaning at the feeling of the warm skin and strong muscles beneath. Mikhail encouraged him into the bed, rubbing and sliding against him. "Fuck me, Mikhail. Please? Let me feel you on me, in me." Mikhail nodded, flipped him, rubbed against his spine. That strength was something else, something special. Just like Mikhail's blood. Just like Mikhail. Then that mouth started sliding on him, tongue burning his skin. Moaning, he pushed back against the touches, begging for more. Mikhail reached out, grabbed a tube, then slick fingers, circled his hole. He moaned, pushing back, not wanting wine and roses, just wanting Mikhail. Two fingers pushed deep, stretching and slicking him quickly and then Mikhail growled, nudged him. "Now?" "Yes!" Now. Now. Now. He pushed back impatiently. Those teeth took his nape again, digging in as that cock pushed deep. It was fucking sexy, like he was being possessed. No one he'd ever known could make him feel like that. He bucked back. "All of it, Mikhail. Give it all to me." His answer was a low growl, Mikhail slamming into him, filling and stretching him fully. He cried out, fingers curling into the sheets as he pushed back. Mikhail took him, demanding, fierce, breath hot on his neck. It matched the blood that flowed through him, hot and wild, so strong. "Needed you." The growl was barely human, thrilling.

"Yes. Yes." He knew about that need, about a hunger that clawed at you from the inside. "Show me." Mikhail did, fucking him, rutting. The thrusts were hard enough to rock him, hard enough he couldn't reach for his cock, needing to lock both elbows in. He didn't need to though either, Mikhail found his gland and nailed it hard, making him scream. "There..." Mikhail changed his rhythm, cock punching his gland again and again. His eyes rolled, body bucking back to meet Mikhail's every thrust. It didn't take long at all before he was coming, ass clamping down hard on Mikhail's cock. Mikhail bit deep, heat filling him, hips pumping. He whimpered, pleasure still rolling through him as he collapsed. "Good." Mikhail landed hard on his back, panting. He loved Mikhail's weight. His heat. "Say you'll stay." "I'll stay," he whispered. It wasn't a good idea. His kind and Mikhail's had been at war for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. But he was going to stay. *** He stirred the stew, whistling as the sun set. Valetta sat on the porch, staring at him, pouting. A nightfeeder. He'd taken a nightfeeder as a mate. Heavens forgive him. He hadn't chosen, he hadn't. It had simply... Happened. Once the sun was gone, he heard sounds coming from the bedroom. Moments later, Steven came out, wrapped in a blanket, long hair wild, eyes glowing softly. He moved with such grace, like every step was a sensual dance. "Hey." Mike grinned, turned the stew to low. "Sleep well?"

"I did." Steven stepped up close behind him, rubbing a little. "You're so warm." His thighs parted instinctively. "Good metabolism." "Yeah?" Steven pushed him up against the counter. "I don't really care why." He grunted, pushing back. Oh, that strength. So hot. Steven shoved him this time, bending him slightly back as their mouths came together. Their teeth clicked, the bright tang of blood on his tongue. Steven shuddered and started lapping, sucking down his blood. He chuckled, pulled back, lapping his own lips. "Am I breakfast?" "No, you're dessert. I don't eat breakfast." Steven grinned at him, the look rather predatory and then he backed off, moving to stand on the other side of the room. "Don't let me take too much, Mikhail. I fear you're an addiction I could quickly become lost in." "It will settle. Mates always have needs at the beginning." "Mates!" Steven's nostrils flared and he took a step back. "Mates?" Mike turned back to the stew, stirring it, hiding the pain, the fear Steven's reaction caused. "Just a manner of speech. I need to check the packs. Don't let my supper burn?" He headed for the kitchen door, embarrassment and adrenaline driving him. "I don't cook," Steven said, voice curt, sharp. He shrugged, hit the door running. The pack met him, yipping and growling into the trees, the moon soothing his skin. A shadow passed overhead, sliding briefly between him and the moon. He howled, let his fury and confusion out, offered to the moon. The shadow passed again and something landed in a clearing ahead of the pack. It was Steven, naked and pale, glowing in the moonlight. He howled, wanting. Needing. Steven made a noise, a hissing and moved forward, came toward him. His nostrils flared, heart pounding. His mate. "You left so abruptly," murmured Steven. "I found I didn't want to let you go." He stepped closer, panting, breathing Steven in. Oh. So right. His mate. His.

"I don't understand this, Mikhail." The sound of his name soothed him, eased the beast within and he shook the form off. "I only know what I know, Steven." "All I know is that your blood makes me strong, eases my hunger." Steven gave him a smile. "And you make me need as I never have before." "I have never shared my true name with another." "Share it with me again, Mikhail." A shiver went through Steven. "In your house. In your bed." "Steven..." He moved closer, pushing against his mate, nuzzling. "Yes." Steven laughed and nipped at his lips, opening them again, drinking from him. "I'll race you there, big boy." He leapt, moving toward the house at blinding speeds. That shadow passed between him and the moon again, Steven hitting the porch just ahead of him. He used his momentum to push Steven into the house, bodies rubbing together. Steven's arms wrapped around him, holding them close, that pale skin was cool, but the dark eyes were hot, wanton as they moved to the bedroom. They stumbled back toward the bed, both so hard, mouths fused together. Steven's fingers slid along his back, nails digging in, scraping. He groaned, pushing closer, rocking, biting at Steven's lips. Steven whimpered, fingers digging in, holding on tight as the long body met his every push, every thrust. There was no doubt that Steven wanted this, needed it. He dropped to his knees, growling, licking and lapping at Steven's belly. Steven's muscles rippled, a low moan sounding. He leaned, rubbed his cheek against Steven's cock. The scent was overwhelming, strong, tinged with him. "Yes. Mikhail." Steven's fingers were in his hair, stroking through his curls, curling around his scalp. Yes. He took the long cock into his mouth, tongue working, gathering more and more of that addictive flavor. Steven's noises were just as addictive, whimpers and moans, pleas for more. He gave more and took more, filling himself with Steven's flavors, Steven's scents. Steven began to move, holding his head still, pushing the long cock into his mouth. He took it all in, throat relaxing, swallowing around the tip.

"Mikhail!" Steven called out, and moved faster, harder, fingers gripping his head tightly. Growling low, he pulled hard, demanding Steven's seed. Steven cried out, gasped and then whispered his name, coming down his throat. Saltbitterheat. He vibrated, the heat filling him, nostrils flaring. Steven moaned and slid from his mouth, body collapsing in a heap at his feet. He gathered Steven close, purring over his mate, nuzzling and licking. Steven was panting, fingers tracing lazily over his skin. "Oh, that was lovely, Mikhail." Steven laughed softly, head going back, offering his throat for licking. He purred and pressed close, nibbling and licking Steven's throat. "You are a magnificent beast, Mikhail." Steven's hands cupped his cheeks, turned his face up. "What do you need?" "You." He pushed in, took a wild kiss. Steven laughed into his mouth, the sound vibrating inside him. "Right here, big boy. Take me." He snorted, bit Steven's lips hard as his hips started rocking, sliding his cock on the smooth belly. Steven wrapped both legs around his waist, ass rising, hand pushing his cock down. "Take me, Mikhail." "Yes..." He grabbed Steven's hips, cock pushing and moving until it hit its mark. Steven cried out, hands on his shoulders, riding him. He groaned, entire body rolling, fucking Steven with deep, sharp strokes. Steven bent, mouth wrapping around his shoulder, teeth threatening, teasing them both. He growled, pulled Steven in hard. His mate. His. Steven's teeth sank into his skin, the bite to his shoulder sharp, bright. "Steven!" He bucked, coming hard, hips jerking. He could feel his come shoot from his body, could feel his blood pulled from his shoulder, Steven's body shuddering around him. It was magic. Wild. Finer than the moon.

Steven licked closed his wound, eyes turning up to him, glittering, wild, a bright smile on the thin face. He chuckled, leaned to lick Steven's lips. "Good evening." Steven purred. "Yes, it does seem to be, doesn't it?” "Better than most." Steven chuckled, nuzzled into him. "You are a very addictive habit, Mikhail." "Good thing I'm not bad for you." "Promise?" "I swear it." He meant it, too. Every word. "I will hold you to that, Mikhail." "I will not disappoint you." Steven purred, body squeezing tight around his cock. The sensation surprised a grunt out of him, deep and low. Steven gave him a grin, self-satisfied and pleased. He swatted Steven's ass, chuckled. "Tease." "Oh you haven't seen anything yet, Mikhail." "No?" He reached down, pumped Steven's cock. "Promise?" Steven threw his head back and laughed, then those glittering eyes turned on him. "I promise, Mikhail." "Excellent." He grinned, pumped again. "I can't wait."

Chapter Four Steven didn't know what to think. He'd taken up with a changeling. On top of that, he was liking it. So far, no matter what he'd taken from Mikhail, it hadn't even made the man winded. And it hadn't been a fluke, Mikhail's blood was special, filled him, made him high, made him strong. Even the tiniest bit had a strong effect on him. The awesome sex was a bonus. But this mates business. He wasn't sure about that. Still, no one was asking him to do anything he didn't want to, so if Mikhail wanted to say they were mates, he wasn't going to stop the man. He could feel Mikhail shifting restlessly, could feel the sting of the sun beginning to fade. He moaned and stretched, turning to face the changeling. "I have to... The moon." Mikhail's eyes were alight, words thick and rough. "I'll leave the house." He leaned up on his elbows. "I want to watch." "I'll know you. You call me..." Mikhail stretched, rippled. "...by my name." "Mikhail?" He nodded. "I will." And he needed to see it, needed to know what Mikhail looked like, needed to know Mikhail wouldn't attack him when the animal took over. Mikhail nuzzled his hand, groaning as if in pain, skin rippling. The hair on the heavily muscled body grew, face lengthening. He slid his hand along Mikhail's cheek... muzzle, turning his fingers to scratch the wolf in his bed behind the ears. Wow. He’d read about such things, but had never seen it before. A moment ago he’d been in bed with his lover and now there was a wolf in Mikhail’s place. Although Mikhail was the wolf. A beautiful, large wolf. The pelt was soft, smooth, Mikhail's eyes watching him as the wolf panted. "Can you understand me if I speak to you, I wonder." He kept scratching, petting, acquainting himself with this other side of Mikhail.

The long tongue lolled out, a soft huffing noise sounding. He chuckled. "Maybe you can, yes, Mikhail?" Another soft noise escaped Mikhail, belly bared to scratch. His chuckles turned into outright laughter. "It's going to be like this, is it?" He scratched the offered belly, marveling at the softness of Mikhail's fur, at how he was even hotter like this, like a canine furnace. "I hope I'm not expected to feed all your great beasts. You never showed me how." The canine laughter came again and Mikhail's tail thumped the bed hard. He snorted. "Are you trying to charm me, changeling?" Mikhail barked, rolled up and pounced him, tongue sliding on his face before Mikhail bounded away again. "That," he said dryly, wiping his face on a corner of sheet. "Would be a yes." He shook his head. He was not an "animal person". Not in the least. Of course this great beast wasn't strictly an animal... Mikhail leapt from the bed, wandering aimlessly, exploring. Steven could hear the sounds of the pack outside, nails clicking. He supposed Mikhail wanted to go out, to run with the pack. He found himself reluctant to have that happen. Which was silly. So he pulled on his leather pants and went and opened the front door. "Go on. Do your thing." Mikhail stood, half in and half out, panting, watching him. "Well I'm not coming with you -- I don't change into a wolf, remember?" Mikhail looked up into the moon, howled loud and long. The sound was stunning, low and fierce and haunting. It reverberated with something deep inside him and he shivered, whispered Mikhail's name. The warm muzzle pushed into his hand, so soft, then Mikhail started to run, the long strides beautiful. The pack soon joined him, Mikhail clearly the alpha, running at the head, leading them into the trees. And it was beautiful, wild and free. Still, that was no reason to be wishing he could join them.

No reason at all. *** They ran for hours, the snow cold and right under their paws. The hunt was fruitless, all the prey hidden, sleeping. They played -- gamboled and pounced like puppies, chased the light of the moonmother on the snow's crust. He led the pack back to the barn before the sun rose, watched his family curl together before padding to the porch, exhausted as he collapsed on the door mat. The sun would warm him until the change, until he gathered the strength to stand, open the door. The door opened suddenly, Steven standing back quickly, hissing. "Hurry. The sun's almost up." Mike stumbled up, feet clumsy, barreling in. Steven closed the door and ran for the bedroom and the curtained safety of the bed. He made it halfway down the hall before he collapsed, caught in the web of exhaustion and the change. "Mikhail?" Steven called to him, peeked out at him. "Mikhail!" He lifted his head, nodding. "Steven." Steven looked at him for a long moment and then disappeared, reappearing a moment later wrapped in a blanket. Steven came to him and tugged at him. "Come on." He nodded, moving slowly. "Sorry. Tired. Long night." "Well you need to come in sooner if I am to help you. I don't do sunshine, Mikhail." "I know. First time with you." "So you stayed out all night because of me? Gee, thanks, big boy." Steven helped him to the bed and then crawled in, hiding from the sun. He settled in, cuddling, heart pounding. "You have a good night?" "I was lonely." Steven was pouting. Those fingers reached out for him though, sliding on his skin. "I told the pack about you. I told the moon." "Oh? And did they tell you I was no good?"

"The moon shone. The pack ran." Steven chuckled. "So the world didn't come to an end because a changeling and nightfeeder got together?" "Not today. Tomorrow's still coming." Laughing, Steven pushed close, rubbing against him. "Mmmm... warm." He took a kiss, happy for the taste. "You were like a furnace in your other form," murmured Steven, mouth opening to him. "Yes. High metabolism." He moaned, licking Steven's lips. Steven purred and rolled him onto his back. "Will you always disappear all night?" "No. No, the first night is the loudest." "How many nights a cycle, Mikhail?" "Three. I will be home tonight." "What can I expect?" Steven asked, rubbing. "Panting. Growling. Cuddling. Napping." He napped a lot in his other form. "You might feed me so I don't gnaw on your toes." Steven laughed. "You never know -- I might like that." Mikhail chuckled. "Am I ugly, changed?" "No. You are the king of your beasts. Beautiful." Oh. He beamed, preened. "Thank you." Steven chuckled and bit his lip. "Oh, you liked that. It was true, too." "Yes. You smelled wonderful, addictive." He breathed in deeply, Steven’s scent was good in the room, mixing with his. "Different than I do now?" Steven asked. "More. I can smell everything." The scent of them together was so very rich.

"I should take a shower then." He chuckled, licking Steven's shoulder. "Not until the sun goes down." Steven shivered. "No. I stay right here until the sun goes down." "Yes. Right here. I will defend you." "Oh, I like the way you say that." He got a toothy grin. "It's not often I meet someone who can." "I can." He licked Steven's teeth. "I know. It's very sexy." Steven's teeth were sharp. He licked again, starting to rub against Steven. Steven pushed down against him, shaft hard and hot against his hip. "Careful, you might get cut." "Oh, whatever would I do then..." Oh, that purr was as addictive as everything else about Steven. He stretched out, offering himself, rubbing happily against the lean body. Steven moaned, teeth sliding along his skin, but not breaking the surface. "Mmmm..." He arched, humming low, just vibrating. "Do you want it?" Steven asked, teeth threatening against his right nipple. "I want everything you'll give me." Steven moaned, bit his nipple and started to suck hard. "Oh!" He groaned, hips pushing up in time with the suction. He could feel it all through him, like each suck pulled an invisible string that was attached to his cock. Steven moved against him, still sucking, cock so hot and hard, sliding on his skin. "Will you take me?" He bucked, thighs parting, desperate for more sensation. Steven let go of his nipple and looked up at him, eyes glittering, lips dark red. "I will." "Oh..." Mikhail groaned, caught in those eyes, heart pounding. Steven pushed and heat slid along Mikhail's cock, his balls.

"Yes. Steven. Please." "Let me in, let me in, by the hairs on your chinny-chin-chin." Those glittering eyes laughed down at him, cock nudging, pushing. He spread, knees coming up and out. "In." "Yes, Mikhail. I will make you huff and puff." Steven was laughing as his cock sank in, the sound merging into a moan. Stars lit behind Mike’s eyes and he arched, hands scrabbling on the sheet. "Yes," hissed Steven. "Yes." That hard cock slid in and out of him, hot and long. "Oh, sweet fuck." Oh, that was what he needed, heat and pressure and pleasure. "You're something else, Mikhail." Steven bent to kiss him again, mouth hard, bruising his lips, splitting them open again. He felt Steven's cock throb inside him as his blood landed on Steven's tongue. Mikhail watched Steven's eyes, watched the pleasure there, the hunger. Yes. Yes, mate. "Mine," whispered Steven, cock hitting his gland. "Yes." His entire body rippled, ached. "Yes." "Yes." Steven's eyes were wild, body moving hard and fast. Everything in him buzzed, muscles bunching and shifting, ass gripping Steven's cock. "Mikhail!" Steven moved even faster, pushing, bending again to bite at his neck, opening his skin. "Yours. Mate. Steven. Please." His blood poured from him, offered to Steven's hunger. Steven drank, fucked, made him throb. He grabbed Steven's hand, put it on his cock, moving them together in sure, strong strokes. Hand, cock, mouth, Steven was moving, loving him. Mikhail flew, his cries and growls echoing. Steven's lips met his again, tongue pushing in, tasting of copper and him. His orgasm crashed over him, his howl echoing. Steven's cry followed, hips jerking against him, heat filling him. He groaned, eyes falling closed as he relaxed into the mattress. "Mate..."

Steven collapsed against him, purring, licking idly at his neck. "Mmm... that's... yeah." By the moon, he was tired. "Oh, I could sleep for days," murmured Steven. "What about you, big boy?" "Mmhmm." He nodded, eyes closed, fading. "I could get used to this," murmured Steven. "Having someone to sleep with, sleep against. Warm. Good." He nodded, drew Steven closer, cuddling. "Good." Steven settled, hands petting. Oh, this was. Yes. Just right. Just right. *** Two more nights Steven watched Mikhail change, learned the wolf's shape, the softness of his fur. The sharpness of his teeth. Mikhail was a truly beautiful animal. It was the man who made Steven come alive though. The taste of Mikhail's blood, the way it gave him strength. The scent of the man's come, the feeling of Mike’s skin beneath his teeth. It was the fourth night since Mikhail had first begun to change; he'd been assured last night had been the final night. He certainly hoped so, he was beginning to pout. And it wasn't a very good look on him. He could feel the sun fading and he shifted, turned to find Mikhail. Mikhail smiled, face relaxed, eyes warm. "Hello, Steven." He smiled back. "Hello, Mikhail. I trust you will not be changing this night?" "No. The cycle is finished. Are you tired of spending your waking hours with the beast?" Steven shrugged. "Less tired and more missing having you strong and well-rested while you're fucking me." Mikhail chuckled, rolled atop him. "Yeah? You need a good, hard fucking?"

He purred, arching, rubbing up against Mikhail. "Most desperately." Those warm eyes lit up, his legs caught up in strong arms so he was spread. "Good." He moaned and bucked, fighting Mikhail some, enjoying the fact that Mikhail matched him strength for strength. "Mmm... no. Mine." Mikhail nipped his calf, playful, awake. He laughed. "Prove it." Mikhail surged, cock nudging his hole, muscles bunching. His eyes rolled, body bucking, trying to get that cock inside, but Mikhail's hands held his legs tight, keeping him almost still. "Mine." Mikhail's eyes were sure, quiet. Serious. He nodded slowly. "You just might be right." He seemed to be well and truly caught. Mikhail nodded. "Wolves mate for life. You... are in my blood." The words were punctuated by the press of that long prick inside him. He cried out, bucking up into the penetration. Blood, he understood. Mikhail gave him no quarter, drove into him, giving him all he needed. "Harder," he demanded, fingers scrapping across Mikhail's back. "Yes." Mikhail snarled at him, pushing harder, deeper. He leaned up, grabbing Mikhail's nipple between his teeth, biting until he drew blood. The pleasure surged through him, tongue and ass connected, aflame. "Yours. Inside you." "Yes," he hissed, back bowed as he continued to suck. Fuck, he was hard. Harder than he'd ever been. "Beautiful. My Steven. Love." He cried out, his cock spilling without a single touch to it. Mikhail's blood, his cock, his words enough. More than enough. Mikhail thrust a few more times, filled him with heat, the look in those eyes ecstatic. That heat spread through him, ignited a fire in him that warmed him all over. He'd never felt so high from feeding before, only with Mikhail. He wrapped his arms around his lover, tugging him down, enjoying Mikhail's weight on him.

"Mmm... hello. Good evening." He laughed, feeling good all the way through. "It is, isn't it, Mikhail? A very good one." "Indeed." Mikhail thrust again, cock rubbing his gland. He gasped, cock twitching, body shivering. "I will fill again, Mikhail. Your blood makes anything possible." He received a wolfish grin, the motion coming again and again. "Your stamina is inspiring," he told Mikhail, body bucking lazily to meet Mikhail's thrusts. "You make me hungry, make me hard." "Yes." He reached up, stroking Mikhail's cheeks, fingers dragging along the day's growth of hair, feeling it scratch against his skin, rough like Mikhail himself. Mikhail purred, pushing into the touch, the look on his face pure bliss. "Hedonist," Steven accused, laughing softly. If ever there was a pot calling a kettle black... "Your own." Mikhail's teeth scraped his wrist, his palm. "Oh." He shivered, something inside him unfurling at the touch of Mikhail's teeth. If he were not the last of the nightfeeders, he would have mated with another, would have felt teeth upon him often. Mikhail nodded. "Oh." Then those teeth scraped again. His whole body went tight, squeezing Mikhail's cock hard. "You feel so good." Mikhail bucked up into him, eyes rolling. "Yes. Yes, Mikhail." His back arched, pleasure just screaming through him, almost too much. "Mine." Mikhail leaned down, bit his jaw, his throat, his chest. "Yes. Harder." He challenged Mikhail, challenged the changeling to really show him the words were meant. Mikhail's teeth sank into his skin, drawing blood, making him arch. "Mikhail!" he screamed, the pleasure bright and harsh, almost burning like the sun, but so good.

"Yes. Mine. Yours. Fuck. Mate." The words were sharp, hoarse. He bucked into each of Mikhail's thrusts, each bite making stars sparkle in his eyes. It seemed to open eternity to him and was over all too soon, the world going dark as the pleasure shot through him. Mikhail wrapped around him, cradled him, held him as he floated down. He moaned softly, fingers curling around one warm arm, holding on. It was wonderful. It was scary as hell.

Chapter Five He and Steven enjoyed many entertainments once the snows came, heavy and piling up everywhere. They played cards and watched movies; they fucked and bathed. Steven spent hours going through the old books stacked upon shelf after shelf. They were curled together beneath a quilt, watching the pups jump and play in the snow and the dim moonlight. "How old are you, mate?" Steven chuckled. "Promise you won't freak out?" "I turn into a wolf on the full moon." He grinned. "I promise." "Well that's different. Sort of. I stopped counting at two hundred." "Two hundred? Really?" He was twenty-four. A tenth of Steven's age. Wow. "When I stopped counting. Yes. Does it bother you, Mikhail?" Steven had grown a little tense. "Should it? You are the one robbing the cradle..." Silly thing. Steven threw back his head and laughed. "You need to be young to keep up with me, Mikhail." "Am I young enough?" He leaned forward, stole a kiss. Steven moaned and pushed close. "You seem to be, yes." "Good." He licked at Steven's lips, groaning. "The need between us is strong," murmured Steven, mouth opening in invitation. "From the beginning, the first touch." "Yes." Steven pushed him over onto his back, nipping at his lips and rubbing against him. "My eyes were drawn to you in the bar." "Running with you was delicious." He grabbed Steven's ass. "That hotel room was not." Steven laughed. "It was the closest place available, big boy. And the sun was rising fast." The long, lean body rubbed against him. "And the run was something else, wasn't it? Made me hot, horny." "It was. You were so strong. I couldn't figure it out." He nuzzled in. "I go into town to get some, to take the edge off."

"Not any more." Steven's words were sure, hard. "No. Not any more." Now he was Steven's. "I will tie you down if I have to." Steven wasn't teasing, the look in his dead serious. He growled, nuzzled. "Promises, promises." "Oh-ho, maybe I should do it anyway!" Steven was grinning, eyes glowing. He nipped Steven's lips, licked that smile. "Do you have any silk scarves, Mikhail? Or leather? Or rope even? I have toys but they're all back in storage. Along with everything else." Steven had only the one outfit and had taken to wearing his shirts and little else. "When the snows thaw, you can bring everything home." Steven nodded. "You just want to keep me your prisoner here." He chuckled. "I thought you were going to tie me up." "Yes, well that would only be fair, as I am your prisoner, seeing as I can't leave without risking freezing off important bits. So where are your silk scarves?" "In the little drawer in the hutch. They were my grandmother's." He cupped said important bits. Steven moaned and pushed into his hold. "You want me to tie you up with your grandmother's scarves?" "You just asked where the scarves were, I told you." He squeezed, rolled Steven's balls. "But you knew why I wanted them..." Steven pushed hard against him, eyes rolling slightly. "Mmm... going to tie me up and make me scream?" "Yes. But not with your grandmother's scarves." He started chuckling, tickled deep down. Steven looked down that long nose at him. "How about leather -- and do not suggest my trousers, they are the only ones I have with me."

"Leather? Like the leashes?" Steven's eyes lit up. "That would work." He got a wicked wink. "Besides, the scent of dog is starting to turn me on." He growled, pounced, pushing Steven into the sofa, hips grinding down against him. Steven laughed, the sound breathless, cock hard beneath him. "Not a dog. Never worn a collar." He pushed down, rocking, riding Steven. "Oh, I don't want to collar you." Steven's fingers slid along his neck, lingering at the scars from Steven's own teeth. Oh. Sweet. He stretched, moaning low. "I've never known anyone who took to being fed upon like you do," murmured Steven, eyes glittering, fingers rubbing against his favorite spot on Mikhail's neck, pressing against it, making it ache just a little. "It aches inside, so deep." He swallowed, caught in Steven's eyes. Still looking at him, Steven leaned up, tongue sliding along the scars. His purr rumbled through him, deep and low, too necessary to stop. Steven cried out and his teeth sank into Mikhail's neck, reopening the wound. A long shudder wracked Steven's body as he drank. Mikhail closed his eyes, imagined he could feel each beat of his heart, each drop of blood Steven took in. Steven drank long and deep and then reared up, sending him onto the floor and following him down. "My Mikhail." "Yes. Your own. Steven." His heart pounded, toes curled tight. Steven growled and took his mouth, fingers scratching across his chest. Heat and need filled him, made him ache and arch. His legs were spread, the hunger in Steven's eyes clear. He drew his knees up and back, offering himself. "Yes." Oh, that hiss was growing familiar, necessary. Heat nudged at him, pushing into him. "Yes." He spread, stretched, opened even more for Steven. That long cock just pushed right into him, filling him deep, everywhere. He could feel Steven everywhere. "Such heat, big boy. All mine." Steven began to move, fast and hard, taking him.

He howled, the pleasure too big to hold in, hips bucking up, begging for more. Steven gave it to him, body working hard, sweat making the pale skin glow in the moonlight. He leaned up on his elbows, rocking harder, riding the stiff cock. Steven moaned, brought their mouths together, kissing him hard. Seed poured from him, splashing between them. Steven slid his hand through Mikhail's seed and brought it to his mouth, moaning as he sucked his fingers clean. Mikhail's body went tight, the sight stunning. Arousing. Addictive. "Love that taste," murmured Steven. "Almost as good as your blood." "Just almost?" He licked Steven's lips, ass milking Steven's cock. Steven moaned, started thrusting again, hard and fast. "Yes. Just almost." His lips were bitten, blood drawn, Steven coming as he sucked. He nuzzled Steven's jaw, teeth scraping and teasing. "Love." Steven moaned again, shuddered. "Mikhail. Is that what this is? This need?" "It must be." "Why must it be?" Steven asked. "Because wolves mate for life and I would not mate with one I did not love." "Oh..." Steven gave him a slow smile. "My kind doesn't. But I could make an exception." "I would like that." He stroked Steven's cheek. "Very much." Steven nuzzled his hand and settled on him. "I would become lost in you, Mikhail." "Is that so bad, Steven?" "No, Mikhail. Somehow? It is not." "Good." He held Steven close.

*** Steven still wasn't entirely sure about this forever mates and love thing, but Mikhail made him happy, let him feed whenever he wanted to, let alone needed to. And to be honest, aside from that first time? Steven hadn't needed to in order to survive, but he had wanted. Very much. All the time. It was sweet. Wild. It made him feel strong and good. High. It was arousing to bite, to suck, to see his marks on Mikhail's skin. He'd never felt like this before. He supposed love was as good a name for it as any and he had no intention of losing it, so forever worked, too. And they certainly mated often enough. As often as possible. Okay, so they were just words and obviously he was okay with their meanings. Over two hundred years of habits was a long time to write over was all. Of course, Mikhail was doing a very good job of helping him develop new habits. This one where they woke with the moon and fucked like wild things was especially nice. They would play a game, at least Steven thought it was a game, where they would each try to wait the other out and then one of them would give in and pounce. Steven was currently doing just that, lying with his eyes closed, pretending he was still asleep. Pretending he could not hear every breath Mikhail took and smell the dark, musky scent of the changeling. He could almost hear the blood flowing in Mikhail's veins, calling to him, begging. Mikhail moaned softly, stretched, cock rubbing against him. Oh-ho! Mikhail was playing dirty! Two could play it like that. Steven snuffled and shifted, letting the covers slip down some, knowing Mikhail would be able to smell him. That got him a soft purr, Mikhail breathing in deep. He flopped elegantly, at least he was going for sleepy elegance, onto his back, spreading his legs slightly. Mikhail snuggled, tongue sliding on his arm, his shoulder, sweet and hot and lazy. He purred, giving up the pretence of being asleep. "Mikhail..." One hand slid down his belly, stroking gently, cupping his balls. "Steven." He turned to face Mikhail, hands reaching for Mikhail's skin, the light, red curls that covered it scratching against his palms. It wasn't exactly a pounce. Not yet anyway.

"Mine." He got a bite, a cuddle. "Mine." He chuckled and pressed close. "Are you sure?" he teased. He loved teasing Mikhail. Loved bringing the beast to the surface. "I am. More than sure." Mikhail pushed back, teeth bared a little. "Prove it," he demanded, looking Mikhail right in the eye, putting a little, okay, a lot, of sass in his tone. Mikhail could move so quickly when he wanted to, teeth sinking into his shoulder. Steven arched into his lover, the pain sharp and bright and so very good. He belonged to Mikhail, that's what that bite said. Owned. By someone who could back up their claim. He was panting, shivering, so turned on it wasn't funny. "Love..." Mikhail nuzzled, licking and lapping. "Yes," he hissed, pushing closer, head going back to give Mikhail easy access to his skin. "Mine." One hand circled his cock, started pumping. Moaning, he started moving, hips pushing his prick through Mikhail's hot hand. Mikhail slid down, tongue sliding on his belly. He moaned, pushing up, knowing what was coming, wanting it. Dull teeth scraped over his cock, tongue following right behind. It made him scream and buck, his head moving from side to side. "That's right. Mine." Mikhail took him, sucked him in deep. "Yours," he agreed, eyes rolling at the sensation. Mikhail swallowed around him, head bobbing, eyes watching him closely. He stared back, moaning, purring, letting Mikhail hear his pleasure. One finger pushed into him, then another, fucking him as the tongue took him. His eyes rolled, his body bucking, cock pushing deep into Mikhail’s mouth. He could feel Mikhail purring around his prick. His fingers dropped down to slide through Mikhail's curls. "More," he demanded, voice little more than a growl. Mikhail chuckled, backed off, eyes playful. "Make me." He growled outright this time, fingers tightening on Mikhail's hair, tugging his lover back toward his aching cock. Mikhail teased, tongue flicking the tip of his cock over and over. Moaning, he bucked up, trying to get Mikhail's mouth back over him. "Love how you taste."

"Then taste, Mikhail. Taste." Those brown eyes went hot for him. "Yes, mate." Then that mouth dropped down over his prick. "Yes!" He bucked up, cock going deep into Mikhail's throat. Mikhail stopped teasing, throat working, pulling at his cock. "Yes. Yes." His heels dug into the mattress, his hips pushing forward as he fucked Mikhail's face. Oh, yes. He was taken in and in, Mikhail opening right up to him. His fingers dug into Mikhail's scalp as he moved faster and faster, the pleasure so huge inside him. "Soon. Mikhail." Mikhail nodded, groaned, sucking his cock with a hunger that matched his own. He cried out as he came, body shaking and bucking, pushing deep as his seed sprayed from him. Mikhail swallowed, groaned, drank him down. He purred, body slowly relaxing back into the mattress, fingers releasing Mikhail's head, sliding down through his hair. Mikhail hummed, relaxing against him. "Taste good." "I taste like you, I imagine." "Mmm. Yes." His hip was licked, laved. So sensual, his Mikhail, so hot and wonderful. "Come on up here, big boy and tell me what you need." "Need you to make me come, Steven. Again and again." "Oh, I think that can be arranged." He bit at Mikhail's bottom lip, a drop of blood sliding on his tongue, making him moan. "Oh yes. I think that can most definitely be arranged." "Mmm..." Mikhail rubbed against his belly, so hard, so needy. He slid his hands down to grab Mikhail's ass, encouraging those movements, loving the heat and hardness against him. He bit and nibbled at Mikhail's lips, at his chin and jaw.

"Fuck, yes. More. Love." Mikhail arched, thrust against him. "You’re so hot," he murmured, mouth sliding along Mikhail's neck, searching for the place he would bite. "For you." Mikhail panted, chin lifting. "Oh yes. Thank you." He found his spot, let his teeth sink in. Mikhail arched, cry low and rough. "Steven!" He moaned, drinking deeply, hands hard on Mikhail's ass, moving the strong body hard against him. Words poured from Mikhail, perverse and desperate, seed pouring upon his skin. He purred, licking at the wound on Mikhail's throat, letting it close. Mikhail stopped bleeding almost as soon as he stopped feeding. It was as if the changeling were truly made for him. Mikhail snuggled in. "We should get out of bed at some point. Maybe." "Mmmm... Why?" he asked, fingers sliding over Mikhail's skin. "I've got all I need right here." "Mmm... All you need?" Mikhail stretched, arched under his touch. "Yes... food, sex, a warm, warm body." "A lover who is fascinating." Mikhail winked at him. He laughed, kissed Mikhail hard. "Yes. Indeed." Mikhail cuddled close. "Mine." He grinned, stroked Mikhail's cheek. "Yes, I believe you proved that. For now." Mikhail chuckled. "Until you prove I am yours." He nodded. "Give me five minutes." "Five whole minutes? You're getting old." "Old? Old?" He rolled Mikhail onto his back, following. "You impertinent pup!" "Pup?" Mikhail's eyes flashed, muscles rippling.

He laughed, loving the strength in Mikhail's body. "That's what I said." Mikhail growled, bucked up beneath him. He purred, loving that edge that only Mikhail could give him. He wrapped his hands around Mikhail's upper arms and held them down against the bed. Bending, he whispered into Mikhail's ear. "That's what you are, after all. A pup." Oh, yes. That got him a snarl and a sharp nip. So hungry, so feral this close to the full moon. He kept teasing, wanting more of that heat, that wildness. "Is that the best you can do, pup?" Mikhail surged up, actually lifting him before they landed back down. "Mmm. So strong, pup. So wonderfully strong." He bent and bit at Mikhail's collarbone, shivering at the salt and musk flavor of Mikhail's skin. "Not a pup. Oh. Steven..." Mikhail pushed again, bucked. "No, a pup wouldn't have a thick, hot cock like that, would he?" He let his tongue slide along Mikhail's skin, letting his teeth drag, threatening. Mikhail groaned, arching beneath him, a more than willing sacrifice. "Yes..." He kept teasing, not biting, though he wanted to. Heavens, it didn't matter how often he fed, he wanted more, wanted to bite and taste, drown himself in Mikhail's blood. "Love!" Mikhail flushed, the blood rushing under the surface. He looked up into Mikhail's eyes. "Do you need it as I do, Mikhail?" "With every ounce of me." He purred and slid down until his mouth was at Mikhail's cock, the thick shaft throbbing. Moaning, he nicked one of the veins with his teeth, mouth wrapping around the wound and pulling strongly. "Oh! Oh, Steven!" Mikhail fucked his lips, pushed up, almost roaring. He let Mikhail fuck his mouth, taking in that thick cock, the blood that pulsed from it, swallowing hard. The howl that escaped Mikhail echoed, seed pouring into his lips. He took it all in, let it fill him, let it make him strong. Slowly, he let Mikhail's cock slide from his mouth, tongue pushing against the small nick in his skin, helping it heal.

He looked up at Mikhail, pleasure like a drug inside him. Mikhail looked well and thoroughly fucked, lips swollen and parted. He smiled, the pull of his lips feeling wicked and he surged up, kissing Mikhail hard. "No, I'd say you were no pup." "No. I'm your mate." Those eyes just danced. He threw his head back and laughed. "Fuck, you're beautiful. So fine." He smiled down at Mikhail. "You're biased, but I am." "You are." Mikhail reached up, traced his lips. He nuzzled into the touch, purring. Mikhail rumbled back, petting and stroking his face. He rubbed against Mikhail's body, such wonderful warmth. "Mmm... You need again." Mikhail's hand wrapped around his cock. "Always. It is a constant with you. No one can sate me like you and yet you make me need again just as fast." "Yes. I ache for you. Inside. Deep." He nodded. "One day I will figure out how to crawl inside your skin." "One day. Yes." Mikhail's hand moved, faster, stronger. He moaned, pushing into Mikhail's hand, mouth dropping to nibble at Mikhail's shoulder. "Fuck me. Let me feel you inside me." The bites to his ear, his jaw were sharp, stinging. "Yes." He hissed and pulled back, flipping Mikhail, moaning at the sight of the wide back, the small, rounded butt. Mikhail arched, offering himself like he was in heat. With a growl, he bent and pushed his tongue into Mikhail's body, moaning at the musk he found there. Mikhail groaned and rocked, words lost, only sounds pouring out for him. He fucked Mikhail with his tongue until he couldn't wait a moment longer and then he surged up, pushing into the tight heat, moaning at the way it felt around him. "Yours! Mate..." Mikhail's head dropped, offering him the bare nape.

"Yes." He bent over Mikhail's back, latching on with his teeth, breaking the skin and pulling blood into him as he fucked hard. "Oh." Mikhail's hands grabbed the headboard, hips bucking. "Yes. Yes." He slid his own hands up, wrapping his fingers around Mikhail's. Those muscles rippled beneath him, taking everything he gave. It was wild and hard, fast and hot and he screamed his pleasure out to the moon. Mikhail squeezed him tight, milked him, the howl joining his. He collapsed on Mikhail, panting, exhausted and exhilarated. Mikhail eased them to the bed, breathing hard, trembling. He purred, hands sliding on Mikhail's skin, loving the heat of it, the man's hair like fur beneath his fingertips. Mikhail purred, dozing again, warm and easy beneath him. Smiling, he curled up on Mikhail and let his own eyes close.

Chapter Six Soon. The moon was calling him, wanting him and he couldn't sleep, couldn't stop pacing, couldn't stop growling. He growled at the packs. He snapped at his uncle on the phone. He snarled at the television. He itched. He ached. Soon. "Dammit, pup, settle down." Steven glared at him, hands on his hips, wearing one of his shirts. "Not a pup." He glared back, baring his teeth. Steven snorted but didn't say anything, just... stared at him. "What?" He started pacing again, head tossing. "There are better things to do with all that energy... pup." "Bitch." He growled low, stepped toward Steven, just vibrating with energy. Steven met him step for step. "Oh, I don't think so, pup. No bitches here." "Not a pup." The last word was a bark. "Sure you are. Pup." Steven's eyes were wicked, dancing. Deliberately winding him up. His muscles bunched and he pounced, intending to take Steven down. It wasn't that easy though, Steven danced away with unnatural speed and he wound up pouncing the floor where Steven had been, soft laughter chasing along his spine. He roared, pounced again, nerves screaming. Steven ran, laughing, making him give chase. Oh. Chase. He loved to chase. He barreled through the house, right on Steven's heels. Steven was fast, twisting and turning, leading him from room to room. He finally caught his mate in the bedroom, bringing him down with a thump beside the bed. He howled his victory, head thrown back.

Steven growled and latched onto his neck, teeth sinking in. His cock leapt, hands tugging Steven close, rocking them together. "Yes!" Steven didn't fight him, just pushed against him, spurred him on. Their bodies slapped together, groans and growls mingling and echoing through the house. Teeth and nails, bit and scraped, bruising, drawing blood. It was wild and hard and eager. He growled, loving the sounds of tearing cloth, of Steven's moans. Steven's legs parted, wrapped around his waist, his mate's hips tilting, offering him the prize. Steven's dark eyes seemed to dare him to take it. Take it he did, pulling Steven close, cock pushing toward that perfect heat. Oh, he wanted in. Steven pressed into him, pressed against him. "Do it." "Yes." He pushed in deep, bucking, hips rolling as he pushed in. Steven moaned, eyes rolling. "Yes. Harder. More. Come on, pup, fuck me!" He pulled Steven down onto him, slamming them together. The bed supported his back as his hips worked. Steven threw back his head and howled, the sound as haunting as any wolf's. "Yes. Yes. Mine." Faster, harder, he pushed into Steven, filling him. Steven met his every thrust, eager and wanton, just as wild as him. His spunk just poured right out of him, hot and right. Heat sprayed from Steven, hitting his chest as Steven's cry filled their home. Yes. He hummed, cuddling in close, not even bothering to make it up into the big bed. Steven wasn't complaining either, just snuggling in. "Oh, that's more like it." "Mmm..." He nodded, curled in. "No more crazed pup." "Not a pup." He rumbled, yawned, not terribly concerned. "We can debate the point again later," Steven suggested, rubbing slowly against him. "Mm-hmm." He purred, nuzzled. Steven laughed softly and nipped at his ear. "Insatiable." "Yours." He nodded.

Steven purred and settled against him again. "Oh, yes. Quite." Yeah. Quite. He smiled, nodded. Quite. *** The days leading up to the change were almost worse than the nights. Mikhail was moody and restless, like a caged animal. Of course he was also easy to bait and the sex was wild and rough and something else. Which put it back into the better than the change category. Three nights every month his beautiful stud of a man became a gorgeous wolf. And sure, Mikhail usually only ditched him the first night, but while he loved fucking like animals, Steven wasn't exactly going to fuck an actual animal, now was he? And Mikhail was so tired by the time the sun came up, curling up with him in the bed and sleeping instead of starting something. By the evening after the third night, Steven was pouting and fractious, feeling second fiddle to those packs of mutts that lived on the farm. Mikhail didn't even wake up as the sun went down and Steven crawled out of bed, pouting harder than ever -- a terribly dreadful look on him -- banging pots in the kitchen. He didn't cook. Hell, he didn't eat. Still, they made a satisfying noise. Mikhail stumbled out, eyes heavily shadowed and bruised. "Steven... Mate... Please..." "Mikhail! Are you sick?" He went over to his lover, fingers sliding on Mikhail's face, scenting the air for any sign of sickness. "The noise. The noise. " Mikhail groaned, slumping against the wall. "What noi-- oh. The pots." He leaned against Mikhail. "Well you were still sleeping!" Mikhail nodded, eyes rolling. "And I was awake. And you haven't fucked me in days." He pouted again. "I miss you, Mikhail. I don't like this change thing at all." Mikhail stared at him a moment, just looked at him. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't suppose you can... you know, not?" "No." Mikhail stood straighter. "I should shower." "No. You should fuck me." "I..." Mikhail actually looked speechless. He hit Mikhail in the chest with his hands, pushed him against the wall. "What?" "What the fuck is wrong with you?" "I'm horny, Mikhail. I'm hungry. What the fuck is wrong with you?" "I'm tired. I hurt. I..." Mikhail pushed back against him, growling low. "Hurt? Hurt how?" He started to run his hands over Mikhail, looking for an injury. His Mikhail had such energy, such life. "Inside. Inside me." Mikhail's skin was heated, dry. Steven leaned in and looked closely, scented. Then he took Mikhail's hand and brought the thick wrist to his mouth. He carefully nicked a vein with his tooth and took in a few drops. The taste was so wrong that he flew back against the opposite wall, spitting to get it out of his mouth. "Mate? Steven?" Mikhail looked scared, so young. "Something is wrong." He spat a few more times and then advanced on Mikhail. "You taste like... poison." "Poison? My pack." Mikhail growled, heading for the door. "Where are you going? You're sick!" He followed Mikhail. "At least put on some clothes -- it's winter out there!" Mikhail pushed onto the porch, howling, the animals answering, the wolf pack limping in, the eldest missing. He followed, shivering in the cold. "I don't understand? How?" This was Mikhail's land, how could they have been poisoned? "We found a fresh-felled calf. It is winter. We eat." Mikhail wandered through the pack, growling, feet leaving prints in the snow.

"Where was it?" he asked. If there was anything left of it, he would find it. "Toward the moon, immediately past the trees..." "I'll find it." He stopped and turned Mikhail's face toward him. "No dying on me." Then he changed and flew through the night in the direction that Mikhail had indicated. He found it just past the trees, or what was left of it, reeking even from the air of the poison in Mikhail's blood. He circled the area, searching for the scent of intruders, but the musk of Mikhail and his pack was so strong it covered everything but the poison. He flew back to the house, worried what he would find, the stench of poison strong in his nose. Mikhail was howling, curled in the snow, bodies lying around him. Steven growled, his new way of life threatened, his Mikhail hurting, emotionally and physically. And he was helpless. Helpless. He didn't know the people, the territory, he'd become fat and lazy. There was a time when no one would have dared mess with his own, but now he remained hidden and in the shadows. The world had changed. Despite his fear and dislike of the pack, he walked through them, going to the man who lay on the snow in the midst of them. He grabbed Mikhail's arm, hissing at Mikhail’s cold, clammy skin. He tugged, ignoring the snapping of the dogs. “Up, Mikhail. The snow is no bed.” Mikhail whimpered, eyes rolling. "My pack." His own kind were loners, more or less, and he had to work against his instincts, to close his lips over the hissed “leave them, it’s too late for them” that wanted out. "I know,” he said instead. He continued to hug until Mikhail was upright. “It was the calf.” The calf lying in the snow, poison-filled blood soaked into the white flakes, making the carnage appear huge. He looked about, at the pups lying about, whining pitifully. Carnage indeed. “Come inside. I won't lose you to it." He could do nothing for the pack, but he would not let his lover die. "They're dying." The low cry was devastated. Though it went against his own instincts, which still screamed at him to get Mikhail inside, out of the cool, into the safety of the thick-walled cabin, Steven made himself ask, "Can you save them?" "No. No, the strong will live..." Tears streamed from the warm brown eyes. He could feel the pain coming from Mikhail and it made him want to howl as well. "Then if there is nothing to be done for them, come inside, you'll freeze to death."

"I..." Mikhail moaned, clinging to him. He trudged through the snow, manhandling Mikhail up the front stairs and through the door. He didn’t even spare the pack a last glance, just closed and bolted the door – no one would disturb them while Mikhail healed, no one would impede that. The hallway seemed interminably long, Mikhail growing heavier and heavier against him, and when they finally reached the bed, they collapsed there together, Steven almost as out of breath as his lover. And he was jittering, wanting to feed, to get the taste and scent of the poison out of his nose, out of his mouth, and no matter how much he told himself it would be even stronger if he fed from Mikhail, his body wanted it, needed it. On top of that, Mikhail's pain hurt. He had never felt the pain of another in his own body, like he felt Mikhail’s. Mikhail slumped into the mattress, eyes closed, little whimpers sounding. He pushed Mikhail into the middle of the bed, pulling the covers up over him, and then pet Mikhail awkwardly; he was no nursemaid. "I'm sorry." Mikhail nodded, sighed, moved toward his touch. "Mate." He continued to pet and stroke, trying to warm up Mikhail's frigid skin. It was all he could do to rub against the cold where there should have been warm, but he did it, knowing that his touch would warm Mikhail’s body. Ignoring the stench of poison and death, he lay with Mikhail, touching randomly. He whispered words to Mikhail, asking him not to leave, asking him to get better before the reek of poison had Steven flying away. The low howls started at midnight, deep and pained, echoing through the house. He curled around Mikhail, trying to calm him, the sounds making him cringe. He didn't know what to do, was barely holding on and not running off. It would be so easy to take Mikhail's truck and just go, leave the pain behind. Instead he stayed and offered his very self to Mikhail as something to hold on to, to make it through the pain of the poison. He begged Mikhail not to leave him, admitted that he needed Mikhail in his life, in his veins. The skin that had felt so cold for so long became overheated, the sweat smelling so strongly of the poison. Steven wet a towel in cold water, sliding it over Mikhail’s skin. It made Mikhail hiss and twist, but did not ease the howls, the obvious pain that ran through Mikhail’s body. And no matter how much he slid the wet cloth over Mikhail’s skin, no matter what he did, the stench of sickness, of pain and poison remained. The room was thick with it.

More than once as he moved between the bedroom and the bathroom, he considered fleeing, escaping. Each time he did not, choosing instead to return to Mikhail’s side, to be whatever comfort and aid he could be in waging the battle Mikhail fought to keep the poison from ending his life. And then the day came and it was too late, the sun hidden behind clouds, but enough to keep him indoors. Mikhail’s groans and cries drawing him back to that horrid room. Sometimes he returned to a beast, sometimes to a man. The worst was this creature caught in between, deformed and hideous, screaming with pain, bloodied sweat staining the sheets. It was horrific and he almost turned and ran, then one clawed hand reached for him and he could no more resist than he could walk into the sunlight on his own power. His Mikhail needed him. After three days of agony, the cries ended and Mikhail finally quieted, eased into the sheets and slept the sleep of the dead. Those hours were the worst, silent and still, the heartbeat just barely audible even to his ears. Then exhaustion moved to sleep, Mikhail shifting and dreaming, smiling with cracked and bloodied lips, fingers reaching to twine with his. He breathed a sigh of relief, leaning their foreheads together to watch Mikhail dream. Being so close to Mikhail meant Steven could not escape the scent of the poison on Mikhail’s breath, or the way Mikhail’s very skin reeked with it now as Mikhail's body worked it out. The sheets would have to be burned – he would not tolerate the stench. "Love." Those eyes were red-rimmed, but they saw him. "I'm here." Surprising as that seemed, he had stayed. "Thank you." He got a smile. "I didn't do anything." But pout and cry and think about himself, begged Mikhail not to leave him. But he'd stayed. Steven supposed that was something. It was something new at any rate. "You were here." He nodded. "Yes. I... I wanted to leave. I don't like pain. I don't like... complications." "I'm sorry. I..." Mikhail closed his eyes, hand sliding on his arm. "No, you shouldn't be sorry, Mikhail. I am... a very selfish man. I have been on my own for a long, long time and I do not know how to be... there for someone." "You're mine. My mate." Mikhail snuggled in, somehow drawing comfort from him.

"Yes." Yes, he was. He leaned in and scented, Mikhail was getting better; it was the sweat-soaked sheets that carried the worst of the stench of poison now. "My throat hurts, my mouth." "From the poison. Do you think you could eat or drink something to take the taste out?" There was a bad taste in his own mouth just from the smell. It alone had nearly driven him from Mikhail’s home more than once. He wanted desperately to feed, to pull fresh, clean blood into himself. To clear his mouth and nose of the reek of death. "Milk? Bread? Water?" "Would you like me to get you some?" That was what you did, wasn't it? To help. Instead of sitting helplessly and patting ineffectively, wishing things were different. "Please." Those brown eyes looked so... pitiful. He almost pouted. How could Mikhail look so pitiful without even trying when his own pouts were dreadful? He nodded though. He had stayed so far, this he could do easily. "Yes." "Thank you." Mikhail leaned forward, kissed his belly. He chuckled, Mikhail's four days of whiskers tickling. His whole body clenched, need and desire so close to the surface. He had needed that, even with the sickness that clung to the room, sprang to life at Mikhail’s touches. He hated waiting for what he wanted. "I'll be back," he murmured, leaving. Escaping before he did something stupid and wholly selfish. The kitchen air seemed so fresh and he stood over the sink, panting lightly, eager to be rid of the smells that had haunted the last few days. He heard Mikhail wandering in the big bathroom, water splashing. He was a coward, hiding out here in the kitchen. Mikhail was getting better after all, there was no reason for lingering, for staying away. He filled a glass with milk and took it out to the bathroom. He would be with Mikhail. Mikhail sat in the tub, the water pouring down on him, wetting the heavy hair. He looked tired and drawn, but he looked better than he had. Steven set the milk down on the floor beside the big claw-footed tub. "It's big enough for two." "Then come in, mate. I miss you."

He smiled wryly, he wanted that which he could not have and was trying very hard not to pout about it – it wasn’t Mikhail’s fault he’d been poisoned. "I'm not good at this, Mikhail,” he admitted. The water was hot and he curled into Mikhail's lap, head on a broad shoulder, pleased that the poison no longer seemed to cling to Mikhail’s skin. Mikhail purred softly, the sound sad. "You're good at this. You ease me." "I'm not doing anything," he pointed out, hand petting Mikhail's belly. "You're here." Those eyes met his. "So many have died. So many in one feeding..." He’d forgotten about the pack, his only thought Mikhail. And himself. "Your family. I am sorry, Mikhail." Mikhail nodded, held him close, a low moan sounding, the pure agony and desperation making his hair stand up on end. He continued to stroke Mikhail's belly and back, making a soft humming noise he hoped was soothing. Mourning was not something he had familiarity with – he was usually the cause of sorrow and didn’t stick around to see the aftereffects. Mikhail held him and rocked, eyes closed. "What... What do you need?" he asked. "You." Mikhail nuzzled his temple. "Haven't you ever had a friend?" He nuzzled back, considering. "No, I don't think so." "Well, I'll be your first." "I would like that." He was changing, Mikhail finding parts of him he didn’t know existed. He scented, nose sliding along Mikhail's neck; the scent of Mikhail’s strong musk almost pure. "The poison is almost gone." "High metabolism." Mikhail winked at him. He chuckled softly. "That is your answer for everything." Mikhail nuzzled in, nodding. "It's a good answer."

He snorted and chuckled, hand sliding up Mikhail's chest so his fingers could play with a nipple, unable to stop himself. He wanted so much. It was so hard to just lie with Mikhail when he needed. Mikhail relaxed, sighing, the sound at peace. He closed his own eyes, leaning, trying to just touch in a comforting manner, trying not to turn it into more than that. No matter how much he wanted. It wasn’t always about his needs. What a new concept. Mikhail fell asleep, breath evening out beneath him, arms circling him. When the water started to get cold, he filled the tub with more hot, sitting with Mikhail until he couldn't take the pruned sensation anymore, no matter how hard he tried. At least it was night again. "Mikhail. Wake up and come to bed." Those brown eyes opened, Mikhail nodding, blinking. "Yes, mate. Yes." He tugged Mikhail out of the tub and dried them both off and then led Mikhail off. He wasn't used to his lover being pliant and docile. It was a little frightening. “Just a minute,” he told Mikhail when the return to their room was marred by the smell on the sheets. He took them all and tossed them out the front door. When he returned, he opened the window a touch, to air the place out. There were new sheets in the hall closet. Mikhail was panting by the time he helped the usually strong, stocky body over to the bed. "I need to feed everyone." The words were muttered as Mikhail crashed on the huge bed. "In the morning, Mikhail. You can deal with it all in the morning." His lover nodded, hands reaching for him, needing him. With a whimper, he kissed Mikhail, pushing close, needing Mikhail, too. Needing this so much. He wanted. Mikhail wrapped around him, motions slow and languid, but necessary, wanton. He purred and started rubbing. This he could do. Especially as Mikhail's mouth taste almost right again. Mikhail's fingers stroked through his hair, petting him, one kiss melting into another into another. He moaned, pressing closer, sliding them together. Oh, so good. There had been more than once he had thought they would never do this again.

Mikhail nodded, hand on his back, on his ass. Whimpering, he moved faster, pushing hard against Mikhail, putting all his frustration and worry into it, moving like a wild thing. "Here, mate. I will not leave you. I will not." He growled, pushing harder, needing to bite, to taste Mikhail, but scared he would still be able to taste the poison in his lover's blood. Him. Scared. Steven thrust harder. Mikhail purred, tugging him closer, tongue sliding on his skin. Shuddering, he tasted Mikhail's skin, teeth dragging, the need pressing at him, urging him to bite. Mikhail groaned, "There's too much blood in me." Oh. Oh, that would never do. Growling, he bit deep. He cried out as Mikhail's blood filled his mouth, the flavor only slightly tinged with the poison. Mostly? It was his Mikhail, strong and sure. And finally the clinging scent of the poison left his nose, his throat, Mikhail’s blood exactly what he needed. He drank deeply, his whole body shuddering, pulsing, cock splashing heat against Mikhail's belly. "Mate..." Mikhail leaned back against the mattress, moaning low. "Yes. Yes, my mate. Mine." He licked at the wound in Mikhail's shoulder once more and then brought their mouths together, the taste of Mikhail's mouth mingling with the flavor of Mikhail's blood. Mikhail nodded, tongue sliding against his own, pushing into his lips. "Yes. Yes, Steven. Yours. Your own." "Yes," he purred. He deepened the kiss, still rocking against Mikhail, giving his lover his own smooth skin to slide against. He didn’t know if it was the beast in Mikhail, or just that Mikhail tapped some deep need inside him, but he was very possessive of this lover of his. Mikhail cuddled, shifting and sliding more slowly than normal, almost languorous against him. "Mikhail?" He looked into his lover's eyes, fingers sliding through the blood on Mikhail's neck and tasting it again. Still mostly poison free.

"Yes. Yes, mate. Touch me." The exhaustion in those eyes was honest, just too many hours being ill, mourning. And yet it was as if his feeding from Mikhail had eased something in Mikhail, had helped the healing along. He purred and started to lick his way down toward Mikhail's cock. The long soaking had cleaned Mikhail’s skin, left it ready for him to taste. Mikhail stretched for him, arched, offered him everything. "Oh, Mikhail... so hot. So beautiful." He took his time, tasting and licking, drawing Mikhail's scent, his sweat in. "For you. You make me need." Mikhail's cock was hard and dark, waiting for him. He ran his nose along the heated length of it. Mikhail smelled dark and musty here, strong. Completely like himself. Thank the gods. Mikhail just purred, hips moving so carefully, so slowly. Growling softly, he knicked the skin at Mikhail's hip, letting the blood run into Mikhail's pubes. Then he began to suck them clean. "Oh. Oh. Steven..." Strong thighs parted, Mikhail's moans getting longer, louder. "Yes." He turned and took Mikhail's cock into his mouth, sucking the tip and slowly taking the whole thing in. Mikhail's hands landed on his head, held on. He purred, hummed, head bobbing quickly. Mikhail tasted good. Right. It didn't take his lover long before the moans were low cries, hips pushing the heavy cock deep. He took Mikhail deep into his throat, swallowing around the tip. Mikhail howled, bittersalty heat pouring into him. He swallowed it all down, feeling right for the first time since Mikhail had been poisoned. Mikhail moaned, petting him, purring. He sucked for awhile longer, then came off and slowly licked his way back up along Mikhail's body. He stopped to lick at the sweat gathered in Mikhail's navel, and then wrapped his tongue around one of Mikhail's hard little nipples. "Love you, mate. Will not leave you." "Better not, Mikhail. Or I will hunt you down." He was quite serious, too. He had stayed through this because Mikhail was his. Whoever had poisoned his own would die. Mikhail nodded, eyes watching him. "I would never give you reason." "Good." He nipped at Mikhail's lips, cutting them, tongue lapping up the drops of blood. The taste made him moan. Yes. His lover. His.

"Hungry." Mikhail grinned. "It's been days, Mikhail." He kept licking. "And then you were sick." "Days, love. Missed you." "Yes. Yes." He nodded, started rubbing again, body so full of need that had been denied for too long. Mikhail's hand landed on his ass, encouraging him. "Heavens, Mikhail. I have never wanted the way I want you." It was constant, each time he satiated himself, he needed more. "It is love, Steven." Mikhail's lips mapped his face. "Love? Okay." He was coming to accept that. After all, he had stayed when he could have run. He had come back. And Mikhail was his. "Yes." Mikhail smiled against his face. "Don't make fun of me," he teased. "You're supposed to respect your elders." "Oh. Right. I'll take a note." "Pup." "Bitch." Oh, Mikhail was laughing. He smiled, enjoying the laughter, the fact that it meant Mikhail was better, was almost himself again. "I'm the bitch who's going to make you scream," he told Mikhail, pushing the muscled legs apart and settling between them. "Scream? Me? Never..." Mikhail's eyes flashed, cock beginning to fill. He threw his head back and laughed. "A howl's close enough, big boy." Mikhail grinned, hand stroking down his belly. "Beautiful." He purred, pushing into the touch, Mikhail making him feel beautiful indeed. A deep purr answered him, Mikhail spreading, rocking against him. He slid two fingers into Mikhail's mouth. "Suck, pup." Mikhail growled, but sucked, pulling hard and fierce. "That's it." He shivered, each pull of Mikhail's mouth making him want more, harder.

Finally he pulled his fingers out and without any fanfare, pushed them into Mikhail's hole. "Steven..." Mikhail spread wide, bearing down and taking him in. In and out, he pushed hard, searching for and finding that little gland. As soon as he had it found, he pegged it over and over again. Mikhail bucked, panted, stretching beneath him. He nipped and nuzzled, threatening but not biting. Not yet. Better to wait. "You. Your cock. In me. Mate." "Bossy." He bit at Mikhail's lower lip, drawing blood this time and sucking on it as he pushed his cock into Mikhail's body. "Yes..." Mikhail bucked underneath him, body squeezing him tight. Moaning, he waited until Mikhail relaxed back into the mattress and then began to thrust, fucking Mikhail with long, slow strokes. Mikhail's knees drew up, hands on his ass, tugging him in deeper. "Need it harder?" He didn't wait for an answer, just thrust harder, moved faster. "More. Mate." Mikhail's eyes were wild, bright. "Yes!" He pushed harder, bending to bite into Mikhail's nipple, sucking Mikhail's blood in. Mikhail's hips snapped; driving them higher, the hot blood sweet and right on his tongue. His. His mate. His lover. Made for him. The revelation echoed in his mind, made the pleasure explode in him and from him. He came, filling Mikhail with his heat. Mikhail cried out, riding him, eyes wide and shining. He wrapped his hand around Mikhail's cock, tugging hard, insisting on his mate's pleasure. Heat blossomed, Mikhail jerking and rippling around him. He purred, still tugging on Mikhail's cock, licking at the drops of blood that slid from Mikhail's nipple before sliding out of Mikhail and moving down to clean his cock and belly. "Love you." Mikhail smelled right now, warm, male.

"Yes, Mikhail. Love." He relaxed on the warm, strong body, listening as the deep breaths evened out, his mate sleeping, healing. Whole. Perhaps he would be able to sleep now.

Chapter Seven He was weak. He hated weakness. Mikhail forced his legs to move, to carry him from the door to the porch before he collapsed. His pack - what was left of them, all the pups and most of the elders lost - crowded around him, howling and licking, mourning and grieving with him. His pack. His family. His howls of pain and fury filled the air. Steven lingered in the doorway, eyes full of sorrow, but eventually his lover came over to him, the pack letting Steven in, recognizing him as one of their own. Steven’s arms came around him. He allowed the support, the care. The love. He allowed Steven to be his mate. "So many. So many gone. My family." Steven's arms tightened for a moment and he heard Steven close his mouth hard enough his teeth clicked. Then his mate nodded. "It was deliberate, Mikhail. I found the calf the night you first came home. It had been poisoned and left where the pack would find it." The wolves around him began snarling, sorrow turning to a blind fury, a bloodlust in a heartbeat. "Who? Were there any signs who?" Steven shrank back from the beasts a little, curling against him. "No. I couldn't smell anything but the poison and I couldn't see any tracks but the pack's. I may have missed something though -- I was worried about you and I need to get back. To make sure you were okay." Yes. Yes, that made sense. He nodded, cheek rubbing Steven's, scenting the man.

Steven moaned softly, pressing closer. The pointed chin lifted, offering him the long line of throat to mark. The bites on his own throat, Steven's marks, throbbed at the sight. He nipped, bruising Steven, marking him as pack. As theirs. A shudder moved through the slender body, Steven moaning for him. "Mikhail... you make me need." The long fingers slid over his body, touching and caressing. He nodded, eyes closing, the wood of his covered porch cold, familiar, home. His pack stayed close, noses sliding over him, even over Steven, but it was his mate's touch, his mate's need that registered the strongest within him. "Come back inside, Mikhail. The carcass was at the far edge of your property -- too far for you to explore tonight." He growled, but his mate's words were wise. He could hardly walk; he couldn't track. "I want to avenge my family." He knew he sounded weak. "Of course you do." Steven's arm wrapped around his middle, guiding him in out of the cold. "You can't do it today. And the carcass will still be there tomorrow. And if it is not - well, that will be telling all on its own, won't it? And that will give us fresh tracks to find." Steven stopped before they reached the door. "They won't go back and eat more, will they?" Steven asked, nodding toward the pack that milled about on the porch. "No. No, they're not fools. They are... mine." "As am I." Steven tugged him inside, ignoring the whining of his pack and closing the door. "There's steak, Mikhail. I took it out of the freezer awhile ago. Will you eat it raw or do you want it cooked?" "Cooked." He slumped down on the sofa, curling up to think. Christ. Steven gave him a look. "I shouldn't have fed as long as I did. I took too much." A kiss landed on his head. "You just tasted so good. And I need you, Mikhail." Steven crouched in front of him, eyes glittering. "I've never said that to anyone." "Say it again."

Steven's fingers fluttered, then settled on his skin. "I need you, Mikhail." "I need you, mate." He met Steven's eyes, fingers trailing over the thin cheeks, the long nose. "Oh." Something in Steven relaxed, his mate nuzzling into his touch. "Good. Good." Turning his face, Steven nibbled at his fingers, teeth grazing the skin. "Yes." He rolled, pushed into Steven's arms, needing the comfort he could fine there. "Yes, mate. Good." Steven's arms wrapped around him, held him. "It is. Very." It felt better in Steven's arms. He nuzzled in, licking and lapping Steven's throat, jaw. The flavor was familiar and comforting, soothing him deep down. Steven's fingers squeezed his shoulders, fingernails digging into him. "You get me riled up and I'm going to feed again," Steven told him, pressing close. He chuffed against Steven's skin, tickled by the irony. "You ease me." Steven nodded. "Even weak with the poison you wanted me." Moaning, Steven pushed him onto his back, climbing him and taking a hard kiss. One with teeth. Stretching out, he let Steven in, growling a bit, the wolf in him refusing to be passive. Steven rubbed against him, his growls making his lover's cock throb against his belly. He knew Steven found the winter cold, but did Steven always have to put on clothing? Steven's tongue fucked his lips, one tooth nicking his skin, blood welling slowly up. Groaning, Steven lapped at it, moving harder against him. They would have to feed him. They would. Later. His blood surged, his skin suddenly tight, hot, flushed. "Mate." Steven whimpered, tearing at the clothes that kept them from rubbing skin on skin. "Your mate. No one else's. Ever." Mouth wrapping around his lower lip, Steven sucked hard, encouraging more drops out.

Mikhail growled, hands squeezing Steven's ass, rolling the tight muscles, pulling his lover closer. "You're hard for me," moaned Steven, shifting so that his prick rubbed up along Steven's crack as his lover moved against him. "You make me." He was too tired to breathe almost, and still all he wanted was Steven. Steven nodded, and drew his hand down to the fine ass, sliding his fingers along Steven's crack. "Open me up, Mikhail, so I can ride you." His stomach went tight, hips bucking up as his fingers squeezed. "Wanton." That little ring of muscles was right there, teasing his fingertips. Gasping, Steven pressed back, body opening right up for his fingers. Two were swallowed up. "Oh! Burns, Mikhail. So good. More." Steven wriggled, trying to get his fingers deeper. Mikhail did his best, pushing and stretching Steven, needing more of those amazing sounds. Steven gave them to him: moans and groans, sharp little cries and a low noise that sounded like it was dragged out from deep inside. All the while, the heat of Steven's cock slid between them, hot silk against his belly. "Enough!" Steven shouted, body stilling suddenly. "You," Steven panted. "Your cock. Now." "Ride me. Ride me, mate." Steven was glowing, the moonlight limning the man with silver light. "Yes!" Steven took another hard, bitey kiss, and then rose up, hand going back to grab his cock and guide it to that little hole he'd just been working on. Eyes rolling up in his head, Steven slowly sank down on him, body clutching, clenching around his prick. The pressure was second only to the heat as Steven took him, joined them. His hands landed on the lean hips, holding tight and drawing them together. "Love..." the word whispered between them, sweet music, and then Steven started to move, up and down, riding him.

Oh, yes. That was. Oh. Mikhail's eyes closed, his focus on the sounds, the copper-musk scent of his mate. Steven's hands rested on his chest, fingernails digging into his skin as the lithe body rose and fell, squeezing his cock tight. He reached up, slid his hands along the lean arms, fingers exploring every angle, every scar, every bit of skin. His. His own mate. Beloved. One of his hands was taken, brought to Steven's mouth, his thumb sucked in, teeth scraping along the pad. That made his entire body arch, push deep into Steven's heat, a howl building inside him. "I need," Steven murmured around his thumb, teeth digging in and breaking the skin. His lover's cry filled the cabin, the suction strong as Steven came. His howl broke free as the heat rained down on his belly, hips jerking up as he filled Steven with his seed, marked his mate. Steven collapsed down onto him, panting, body still holding him tight. The sweet suction continued for a moment or two before Steven let his thumb go. "That never gets old, does it?" His grin seemed to almost split his face. "No. No, not yet. Old man." Steven gasped and popped his shoulder. "Impertinent pup." The laughter that was threaded through the words was sweet. "Mmmhmm. Feed me." His stomach was trying to fight its way out of his body. Steven popped his arm again, groaning as his cock slipped from Steven's body. "One destroyed steak, coming up. I don't understand why anyone would cook a perfectly bloody piece of meat." "Don't cook it too long. Just heat it up." He grinned, the expression feeling unfamiliar. Steven grinned back, and bent to kiss him lightly. "I'll be right back, Pup." Slinking away, Steven gave him a show, ass swaying, hair swinging as Steven looked back over his shoulder.

"Not a pup." Beautiful bastard. His beautiful bastard. Steven's soft laughter drifted back to him. And maybe the words "prove it," but that might have been the wind. He chuffed softly and stretched before rolling to his feet and following his mate. He was tired, but he was not dead. The thought of his lost ones hit him again and he stumbled, the need for vengeance sharp. No. Not dead at all. *** A night of loving and food and rest, a day of sleeping hard while the sun shone, and Mikhail seemed much more himself, stronger. He could at least walk from their bedroom to the kitchen, and then to the front porch without having to hold onto the walls. Steven knew because he was watching, eyes on Mikhail's ass. He pulled his coat on, following Mikhail into the moonlight. "Shall I take you to the carcass?" he asked, knowing Mikhail wanted this mystery solved, his pack avenged. "Yes." The mention of the carcass made Mikhail's eyes glow yellow, made his lover's cheeks darken with the hint of fur. A hundred years ago that would have had him hissing, fighting against Mikhail tooth and nail. Even ten years ago. Hell, who was he kidding? A year ago he would have had the same reaction. Now, it only turned him on. He rubbed their cheeks together, letting Mikhail scent him, and then straightened, doing up his buttons. "Will you be getting dressed?" Mikhail chuffed, rubbed against him for another moment, a deep sub-vocal rumbling coming from his lover. "I suppose I should." "You could just change. As... well, as could I." They'd not done that before, run together

as their other selves. He wasn't even sure the flying creature he became would work with Mikhail's wolf, though he'd known Mikhail well enough as his mate when he'd returned from his initial search for the source of the poison. Mikhail's nostrils flared, the deep sound growing louder. "I can. I am stronger then." "Yes, and better able to track." His other form was the same, senses sharper, more focused. "I know the way, you will follow me." He shed his clothes, left them by the door and took on his other form, his body changing, his wings taking him up into the air with a sharp cry. He circled the house looking for Mikhail. It took his mate longer, the growls and snarls pained in the moments before the wolf's howl rang out. Then his lover padded out onto the porch, the rest of the pack joining him. A part of him rose up, wanting to fly into the pack, separate his mate from the other wolves, but he beat it back, focused on the large wolf that was his Mikhail. With another cry, he dove, straightening out just above their heads and leading the way toward the place where he'd found the calf's carcass. Mikhail's howl answered him, the sound enough to make him shudder and shake. The rest of the pack answered, welcoming him. Accepting him as their own. Calling him pack. He had never flown with anyone. Never. To do so now was... exhilarating. He swooped and played above them, almost forgetting there was a serious reason for this flight. The faint scent of poison hit him though, and he refocused, leading the pack right to it. Mikhail stopped short, howling out his fury, the rank scent of spoiled blood heavy now, even hidden by the snow. Steven circled the area several times, searching for any clue that would tell them where the calf had come from. The scent of the poison was overwhelming though, and any tracks had been covered by fresh snow. He returned to Mikhail's side, landing smoothly on his feet, a man once again.

He shivered and winced, the snow *cold*. Mikhail sniffed and searched, growling low before making the transition himself. "This isn't right. No one walked here with it." "That doesn't make sense, Mikhail. You would have heard a plane, a helicopter. We just can't find any scent because the poison is covering everything." He pressed close to Mikhail, shivering, searching for his mate's heat. Mikhail wrapped around him, drew him close. “No. No one walked here. Nothing mechanical. Nothing with a scent lit here." "That's impossible -- the calf didn't just appear here. I don't believe in magic, Mikhail." "Most people don't believe in us, Steven." Impertinent pup. "Yes, but we both know that *we* are real. Magic is not. And if it wasn't brought in, and it wasn't dropped by an airplane and it wasn't magicked, then someone must have flown it in themselves..." The words faded as it hit him, and he stiffened in Mikhail's arms. Someone *had* flown it in. Someone like him. It was the only thing that made sense. "What? What is it, mate?" Mikhail's nostrils flared, eyes shining. "Don't you see? It had to be someone who could fly. Who do you know who can fly?" He waited for Mikhail to figure it out, to be angry with him. Mikhail's head tilted. "You did not do this." There wasn't even a question there. Not even a concern. That trust made him flutter, a sweet heat spreading through his belly. His fingers slid on Mikhail's skin, petting happily. "Of course not, but I am not the only one of my kind." "No. No, you're not. I." Mikhail frowned, sniffed. "We will return to the cabin. We're vulnerable here." He nodded, shivering again, not even the warmth of his mate pressed against him could keep him warm. "Your pack, Mikhail -- they must stay close to the cabin. I can only imagine what might happen if they wander away." The calf proved that the target was not himself, but Mikhail and his pack. More slaughter would come, he was sure of it.

"Home. Home, mate." Mikhail growled, the wolf already coming to the fore, the wolves around them working themselves into a lather. "Now. Now. Fly." "You as well, *mate*." He met Mikhail's eyes for a moment, saw the love there, beneath the anger and worry. He rubbed their cheeks together and then took Mikhail's bottom lip between his teeth, biting and sucking a drop of blood into him. Stepping away he allowed the change to come over himself and took to the sky, his cry urging the pack to move quickly. They scrambled, all of them, to their home, to their sanctuary. Whoever it was, they obviously weren't strong enough to attack them in their home. They barred the door, and Steven pushed into Mikhail's arms, panting into his lover's mouth as the need to prove once again that they were still alive filled him. Mikhail's mouth tasted wild, the kiss enough to make his head spin, heart pound violently in his chest. He was pressed up against the door, his back and head hitting it with a slam. It made him moan, his fingers grabbing at Mikhail's shoulders to tug him closer, one leg wrapping around the back of Mikhail's thighs as he sawed against the solid body. The sounds coming out of Mikhail's throat were rough, raw, incomprehensible but understandable all the same. Mine. Mate. Need. Somehow Steven knew. "Take me," he demanded, tilting his hips as best he could, offering all he was to Mikhail’s need. Mikhail tossed his head, teeth bared as Steven was pulled down upon his cock, the thick heat piercing, stretching, spreading. The burn felt so good, so necessary. Mikhail's need was his own and he arched, pushing himself down to take more of Mikhail's cock in, his head going back to expose his throat to those hungry teeth. His skin was nibbled and gnawed, Mikhail so careful not to break the skin, not to harm him. All the while those strong hips pistoned, driving that cock into him. His own touches were less careful, his fingernails digging into Mikhail's shoulders, and he could smell the instant he drew blood, his own movements growing wild.

"Soon. Soon, mate." Mikhail rippled against him, heart pounding hard against him, that blood so rich. So close to the surface. Moaning, he leaned in to wrap his lips around Mikhail's shoulder, teeth scraping, teasing, making them both wait. Then he bit, Mikhail's blood filling his mouth, his mate's essence feeding him body and soul. Seed filled him in waves even as Mikhail's blood did, his mate growling and howling out in pleasure. His own cries as he shot were muffled by Mikhail's skin, the pleasure making him shake. He clung to Mikhail, mouth gentling, licking at the wound he'd made until it stopped bleeding. "I will not allow anyone to hurt you." Mikhail's words were low against his skin. That he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, especially against one of his own kind, didn't make the words any less true, didn't make the sweet heat that went through him any less special. "I know. I'm your mate." "Yes. My pack." Mikhail nodded, holding his weight easily. "I smell better though," he pointed out. "Less wet dog hair-y." His ass was quite firmly pinched. "I will beat you, mate." He squeaked, legs squeezing tight around Mikhail's waist. "Promises, promises." "It is." Mikhail leaned into him, eyes serious and sure. "We have to find out who hunts us." He nodded, the teasing left behind. "We do. I haven't had any contact with anyone of my kind in years. Maybe even decades. I don't know who would have a grudge against me." "Someone who cares enough to brave the snow, the cold, and the pack." He shivered and pressed closer to Mikhail. "Yes. There are some people I can ask questions of, who I can trust to tell me if they know." Not his sire, but he had a... friend or two. "Then we should ask." Mikhail leaned, hands moving over his skin.

He nodded. “We should.” He didn't like to think about it, think about who might be trying to hurt him. He was a hedonist and preferred focusing on his pleasures. In fact, in the past, if such a thing had come up, he’d have just left, moved on. He’d done it before, he knew how to do it, how to just disappear and play elsewhere. But that was before. Now he had a reason to stay. He held tight to Mikhail, letting those sliding hands strengthen his resolve. “We will.”

Chapter Eight Steven reached out to an old friend who, the last time Steven had known him, lived deep in the Bavarian mountains. It was a lot easier said, than done. Gunter had no desire to be found by any, nor be contacted, even by old friends. Steven’s kind tended to be loners -- as territorial as the changelings, they did not travel in packs, but drew large circles around themselves and bade everyone to leave them be. Gunter had no phone and the telegram Steven had attempted to have delivered had been returned. There was no such place according to the company. Fools. If they advertised worldwide delivery, they surely should be able to do as they said. In the end he'd sent a message through the law firm Gunter had used for an eternity. He knew it would take time for Gunter to get the message and to reply to him, but he had very little choice. In the meantime he scanned the news on Mikhail's computer, the machine tucked away in the tiny room that was Mikhail's office. It was the coldest room in the house and felt the least lived in and he hated the hours he spent in it, searching for clues on which of his kind had followed him to North America. Several weeks passed and he was no closer to solving the mystery of who wished him ill. There had, however, been no new attacks on him or Mikhail, either. With a disgusted sound, he shut down Mikhail's computer, wrapped the blanket he wore tighter around his shoulders and went searching for his lover. He needed to remember why he was going to all this trouble instead of just running away and finding a new home. He needed to feed. Mikhail was sleeping on the divan, snoring loudly, sprawled like a huge puppy. It should have been funny. It should have been silly. Instead it was endearing. Who knew he could be such a sap? He sat on the arm of the couch next to Mikhail's head and tickled his fingers over Mikhail's face, and through the wild curls. The need thrummed through him, Mikhail's scent strong from this close, and making him hard as it always did. Nothing fed his hunger more than Mikhail himself. Mikhail rumbled softly, reaching toward his hand. That's what made this whole mates and forever thing tolerable, that it wasn't one-sided. Even with the trouble he'd brought down on Mikhail and his lover's pack, Mikhail had never once looked to send him away.

Bending almost double, he brought their lips together, his hand on Mikhail's wide chest supporting himself. He could feel the blood rushing under his touch, that strong heart pounding. It made him moan, made his need sing in his own veins. "Mikhail," he murmured, tongue flicking inside his lover's mouth to taste. He wanted more though and with a flick of one tooth, he nicked Mikhail's upper lip. He wrapped his mouth around the wounded skin and sucked, sweet copper drops landing on his tongue. Mikhail's eyes opened, glowing and tinged with gold. That growl vibrated through him. It was such a sexy sound. He let Mikhail's lip go and licked it, giving his mate an upside down grin. "Oh good, you're awake." "Yes. Mate." Those large hands cupped his face. "Yours." "Mmmhmm..." He nuzzled into Mikhail's hands, his face turning so he could nip at the fleshy pad of one, just not breaking the skin. Mikhail moaned for him, the heavy male musk of his lover betraying Mikhail's need. He kissed Mikhail's palm and then brought their mouths together again, the upside down kiss making him laugh softly, lips and tongues not fitting quite right together. Breaking the kiss, he stood and dropped the blanket. "Take off your sweats, pup. I have need of you." "Are you hungry, mate?" Mikhail stood, that filling cock heavy and thick, pulsing with blood. He nodded, stepping close, Mikhail's heat warming him immediately. "Starving, Mikhail. It has been hours since I last fed." His hands slid over Mikhail's shoulders, down the thick muscles of Mikhail's chest. Sliding slowly to his knees, he gazed up at his lover, cheek rubbing along Mikhail's cock. Mikhail rumbled softly. "Do not feed from there, yes? I would bleed out." "We can't have that, Mikhail." Nonetheless he let his teeth graze along the hot, tender flesh, eyes flashing up to meet Mikhail's. He got a gasp, just barely hidden within a growl. Oh, his pup wanted to play. He licked his own lips and then nibbled on the curls that crowned Mikhail's long cock. Taking the little hairs between his teeth, he tugged sharply. That earned him a yelp, Mikhail jerking away, panting at him.

"Don't you trust me, pup?" he asked, fingers sliding to cup Mikhail's balls, tug them gently. "I do. That stung." Mikhail spread, letting him touch that most-delicate skin. "So do my bites." He leaned in and broke the skin at Mikhail's hip, tongue soothing, licking at the single drop of blood that welled up. "Yes. That's different." He pulled back and looked up, meeting Mikhail's eyes. "Is it?" "Yes." Mikhail met his gaze, head-on. "That's necessary." "Yes. Oh, yes, Mikhail. So necessary." He pushed until Mikhail fell back onto the couch and climbed the strong body, meeting his lover's lips with hard, necessary kiss. His kiss was met head-on with a fierce hunger, Mikhail's tongue pushing into his lips, fucking them. He ground their hips together, tongue tangling with Mikhail's as his fingers dug into the wide shoulders. Deep, rough sounds pushed into his lips, vibrating inside him, ratcheting his need higher and higher. "I want you, Mikhail. I want to be buried inside you while I fill myself with your essence.” "Yours. Now, mate. Take me." Mikhail bared his teeth, the moonlight making them glow. He licked those teeth, dragging his tongue along the rough edges as he spread Mikhail's legs, cock bumping into his lover's balls. One muscled leg propped up against the back of the sofa, Mikhail spreading wide, offering himself over. "Yes, mate." He shifted, hips pushing, searching for Mikhail's entrance. His cock skittered across it, and he groaned. With a jerk and a thrust, he pushed in, Mikhail's body swallowing him. Those tight, hot muscles rippled around him, fluttering and beating against his shaft like a hundred butterflies. "Mikhail..." He began to move, to thrust into that lovely, tight heat over and over again, his tongue imitating his hips, pushing into Mikhail's mouth time and again. He could feel the need to feed grow with the pleasure that settled in his balls, and he let it build, made himself wait. Mikhail's hands slapped down on his ass, pulling him deeper, faster, closer. "Greedy," he whispered. He could feel Mikhail's heart beating around his cock, and knew he couldn't hold back much longer.

"Always. Need you. I'm too full, mate. It aches." Mikhail's chin lifted, the vein throbbing. Yes, he could feel it, feel the blood rushing through Mikhail's veins. So much, too much. His mate needed this as much as he did. With a growl worthy of any changeling, he bared his teeth and took that vein, the blood pumping into his mouth as his hips snapped hard, spunk pouring from him. Mikhail's roar filled the air, heat pulsing against his belly as his lover came. He drank until he was well-satisfied, Mikhail's blood filling him like nothing ever had. Finally, he licked and lapped at the wound until the blood slowed, stopped. He could feel Mikhail's heart beating, his own matching the rapid thudding. Mikhail hummed, nails sliding over his spine. There was a peace here, unlike anything he'd ever known. "Mikhail..." He nuzzled into his mate's neck, loving the scent he found only here. "I will find out who is trying to get me," he promised. "Yes. You will discover him and we will kill him." That growl sent shivers up his spine. "I am sorry I've brought this on your pack, Mikhail." He pushed closer. "I wish I knew who or what I'd done." "We protect our own, mate." Mikhail's lips brushed his throat, soft, the stubble tickling him. "I am not used to this," he told Mikhail. People didn't stick by him. He didn't stick by people. "I know. You'll become used to it. I mate for life." "Are you sure? I could go." If he ran he wouldn't have to deal with it, but more importantly, it would take the heat off Mikhail and the pack. "No. If you left me, I would hunt you and bring you home." Mikhail's eyes pierced him like a blade. "I am sure of you, Steven." "Even if I am not sure of myself?" "Even if you are not sure of anything." He could feel the truth of Mikhail's words deep inside him. "I am sure of you." The scariest part was that it was true.

"Good." That smile echoed inside him, warmed him, filled him like blood. He pressed his lips to Mikhail's, tasting that smile and knowing it belonged to him. Mikhail flipped him over, hair tumbling down around them like a sheet. "Yours." He wrapped his arms and his legs around the muscled body, meeting and holding Mikhail's eyes. "You are. And I am yours, pup." "Yes. Mine." He got another kiss, then another one and another and it was good he didn't have to breathe too often because Mikhail stole it. Moaning, he rubbed up against Mikhail, like a bitch in heat, putting his scent on his lover. It was an addiction, the way Mikhail responded, arched back up toward him, growling low. Impossible that he could want again so soon, but he did. His fingers slid over Mikhail, his mouth finding skin and wrapping around it, sucking strongly enough to mark Mikhail without drawing blood; the tease so delicious. Mikhail's skin swelled, the blood right beneath the surface, throbbing against his lips. He moaned, shifting his hips, encouraging Mikhail's cock to slide against his ass as his teeth teased the mark. "Yours. Mine. Mate." Mikhail arched a bit, body rubbing, the heat between them almost too much. "Take me," he demanded, hips tilting again. A low moan left him as Mikhail's prick merely slid along his skin again. "Take me!" Mikhail's hands tightened on his hips, dragging him down onto that fat, heavy shaft. He cried out, taking it in deep, pleasure shooting through him. "Mikhail... Oh, love." "Yes. More." Mikhail bit his bottom lip, his jaw, blunt teeth scraping his skin. "Yes!" His fingers dug into Mikhail's skin, those thick muscles hot and hard. So strong. Mikhail's sounds surrounded him, almost a touch in themselves. The touches of teeth became harder, sharper, more desperate. "More," he demanded, his own teeth threatening Mikhail's skin. Each thrust pounded into him, rocking him. Those hands squeezed harder, pulling him down, demanding that he feel, that he take. He leaned in and bit at the skin right over Mikhail's heart, the blood sweeter here, even if only he could taste it. The blood pulsed into his mouth, filling him with Mikhail's heat, Mikhail's life. Steven imagined he could feel Mikhail's cock swell, throb inside him. His own prick

pulsed, shot heat between them. His name rang out, voice echoing in the air. He collapsed down against Mikhail, petting, loving on his mate. He would not lose this. The thought was sure and clear and he would do whatever he had to to make sure it remained true.

Chapter Nine The tree was full of snow and he shook it well before dragging it up to the porch. He'd gone up in butter yellow light of the late afternoon sun and pulled the decorations from the attic. Grampy would have been pleased. It took him the rest of the evening to get the tree set up and lights strung around it, but finally it was done, the Christmas music soft, filling the air. Mikhail approved. It was well and truly dark before Steven appeared, a thick robe around the slender body, Steven's long hair falling over his shoulders. "Mikhail? You weren't in be..." Steven's voice faded away. "There's a tree in the living room." "You are a very observant guy, Mate." It smelled like forest and winter and holiday and fresh green. Steven picked up a pillow from the couch and tossed it at him. He caught it easily, throwing it back, chuckling low. Steven deflected it and came over to him, leaning against him and examining his tree. "If you'd left it outside the pack could have enjoyed it as well..." "They can see through the window." Besides, they were bundled altogether in the dens, enjoying the fresh meat that he'd brought for them. Steven giggled. "The lights are pretty." The long, aquiline nose slid along his neck. "They make you glow." "Mmm. Thank you." Oh, thank goodness. He'd worried that Steven would laugh, fuss. "I've never had a tree before. All that light and driving away the darkness that goes along with it." His neck was nibbled. "The light looks best in the night..." Oh, that was addictive, the way the tingles shot down his spine. Steven drew back a moment and tilted his head. "You're right. Like you and I, the concepts go better together perhaps than they've been given credit for..." Then his mate's arms were sliding around him, teasing his sweater away from his waist.

"Mmhmm. I feed you well. You make me..." He shrugged, hands opening. "I am less without you." "Sounds like I'm getting the better end of the bargain..." Steven's fingers danced on his skin, sliding up over his belly on one side and along his spine on the other. "No. No, I have you." "You certainly do." Steven snapped at his earlobe, teeth sharp. Those fingers slid on his skin, fingernails digging in just a bit. "Always hungry." His growl built in his belly, low and happy. "For you, even though you fill me as no other ever has." Steven pressed against his side, mouth sliding along his neck, tongue wet and hot. "Love." The temptation to lean over, beg for more of Steven's attention, was overwhelming. "Yes. Yours." Steven tugged at the collar of his sweater and stepped back. "Too many clothes, Mikhail. Take them off so I can admire my mate in the lights of the dead thing in your living room." "You don't have lights..." He ducked Steven's swat, grinning at the growl he got. "Impertinent pup!" Mikhail chuffing, tossing his head. "Going to punish me?" Steven growled again for him. "Yes. Yes, I think I will." A frisson of excitement went up his spine. Playing. Roughhousing. His kind knew that. Steven let the bathrobe drop, body lean, slim muscles tensing, warning him his mate was about to pounce. His cock filled and he crouched, nostrils flaring. Ready. He was ready. Licking his lips, Steven waited, the air between them growing thick with their scents, with the musk of their need. Then suddenly, Steven pounced, flying at him. He was caught between the urge to duck and the urge to catch. The urge to catch won out. The force of Steven slamming against him, sent him onto his back, that lean body pressing along his, only his sweats between them.

His entire body rolled, fighting against Steven's strength. They went over several time, coming to a stop as they rolled under the tree, his side hitting the heavy metal container it stood in. Steven froze beneath, blinking up into the lights. The lights reflected in Steven's eyes, thousands of sparkles. "So beautiful." Steven laughed, fingers pushing his sweater up, insisting he help get it over his head and arms. "Show me." "Show you what?" He opened Steven's robe, fingers brushing the flat belly. Steven pushed up into his touches. "How I make you feel. How beautiful I am." "Yes. My mate. My world. My Steven." The last words were whispered into Steven's lips. A soft whimper pushed into his mouth, Steven's arms tugging him close. The scent of pine was all around them, rivaled only by the scent of their need. The kiss started gently, both of them exploring the other. Then it began to grow an edge, begin to burn. Steven's fingers moved over him, digging into his muscles, the touches deep and good. They moaned, biting at each other's lips, Steven's teeth breaking the skin. The moment there was blood Steven's lips wrapped around his, sucking strongly as one moan after another came from his mate. He fought his mate lazily, making Steven work for it, enjoying the ability to just play. They rolled again, Steven straddling his thighs, fingers raking down over his chest. They stopped at his nipples, twisted. "Mmm." That felt. Oh. Sharp. He arched, pushed up into the touch. Steven rubbed their cocks together, grinding down against him as the twisting and tugging of his nipples continued. He could feel the wolf inside him, growling and shivering, the passion just building inside him. "Love these," murmured Steven, bending and taking his right nipple in that hot mouth. He knew what was coming, but it still make him jerk when Steven bit down. "Love. Mate!" Mikhail's eyes popped open, heart slamming against his chest. The hum vibrated around his flesh, Steven drinking, pulling the blood from him in long sucking draws. His cock throbbed, the tip rubbing against Steven's skin, Steven's heat. "I want you," moaned Steven, moving to his other nipple, the touch surprisingly, almost shockingly gentle.

"I'm yours. Now, mate." Wriggling, Steven settled between his legs, cock pushing into him just like that. He could howl. He could. Just throw his head back and bay at the sky, cock jerking and throbbing as Steven pierced him. Bending, Steven stole any sound he might have made, stole his breath in a fierce, toothy kiss that echoed the sharp thrusts into his body. The lights caught his eyes, the entire world seeming to sway, swirl as Steven took him. One of Steven's hands slid between them, finding his nipple and pinching, tugging. "Love touching you." "Good. More." His skin was too tight. "More. Always more with you. Want more. Need more." Steven laughed huskily. "More is good." "I try to give you more." Not that he was worried. Or selfish. "You give me everything." Steven's eyes glittered down on him, pink tongue sliding over the dangerous teeth. "Everything..." Steven nipped at his jaw and then nibbled down to his neck, tongue licking across his carotid artery. He went still, throat working. He could feel his blood pumping, pushing toward Steven's mouth. "Love," whispered Steven, the word vibrating against his skin, vibrating inside his skin. Then Steven took what they both wanted, biting deep and sucking hard. "Mate!" It was like falling, the rush and thump and ache and pulse of it. Steven's answer was to drink harder, to thrust harder, sending him spiraling faster and faster. Mikhail sank under the pleasure of it, the pound and thrust of that cock inside him, the blood from him. Hips snapping, Steven filled him with heat, cock pulsing deep inside him. He may have come, he may not have. All Mikhail knew was light and pleasure. Steven stayed buried deep inside him, weight collapsing down onto him. "Mmm... mate." "Mate." If he had any energy left, he would have petted Steven's back. "You know, I think I could grow to like this tree and lights tradition."

"Mmhmm. Suits us." Mikhail's eyelids were so heavy. "Suits you, mate." Steven shifted slightly and settled. "But then so do I. So it works." A soft tongue licked across his neck. "It works." Yes. Yes, and he would fight to keep it.

Chapter Ten Weeks flowed into one month and then another and a third and still no word from Gunter. No word from anyone. At least whoever was after him seemed to have also gone to ground and while everything was covered in a heavy, quiet layer of snow it was easy to believe the whole world was hibernating. Steven certainly was. He and Mikhail and the pack stayed close to home, Mikhail's freezer full of frozen meat for himself and the pack, while Steven stayed fat and full on Mikhail's blood. Every now and then he would stop to be amazed at how well his changling lover's blood fulfilled him like no other ever had. It was as if Mikhail had been made for this, for him. And Steven was beginning to wonder if his ancestors hadn't been wrong, if nightfeeders and changlings weren't actually meant to be together rather than shunning each other. He didn't think too hard on it, though -- he was not the kind to worry about the ages and what had come before. He was, as he had always been, focused on himself and the now. Only now Mikhail was included in that. It was nice. The first spring new moon had begun and Steven rose from an empty bed, tugging on a pair of Mikhail's sweats, the bottom of them ending somewhere above his ankles. He wandered to the porch, guessing he would find his lover beneath the new moon's light with the pack. Mikhail was there in the darkness, chuffing and calling to his pack, rubbing cheek against muzzle as each wolf came to greet him. Hairy beasts. He rolled his eyes as he thought it, but his heart wasn't in it. The truth was, he'd grown fond of the hairy beasts. He joined Mikhail, one hand sliding over his lover's back, the other reaching to scratch one of the pack between the ears. "It smells like spring," he noted. Snow still covered everything, but he could feel the promise of warmer weather in the way the wind had changed. "It does. The pack will be mating soon. We'll have pups."

"Pups!" He laughed at the idea, and let his hand slide down to Mikhail's ass. "I already have a favorite pup." Mikhail growled, the sound aroused and playful. "Not a pup." He grinned, body tensing to run. "No? Prove it!" With that he turned and fled back in through the door. A low howl followed him, Mikhail's feet thrumming on the wood. He wasn't running very hard -- he wanted to be caught, afterall -- and they went down in the middle of the living room, Mikhail heavy, good on his back. It had him laughing again and he twisted beneath Mikhail's weight, his growly lover letting him. The kiss he got made his head spin, made him groan and jerk under Mikhail. His lover made him so hungry -- the more they had sex, the more he fed, the more he wanted both from his Mikhail. His hands slid around Mikhail's middle, holding on as he opened wider, inviting Mikhail in deep. Mikhail gave him all he asked for and more, tongue pushing into his mouth, tasting him. His legs wrapped around Mikhail's waist, and he bucked up as Mikhail's tongue slid along his teeth. Such a tease, his pup. He bucked up again, loving the way their pricks bumped together. Mikhail rolled and humped, teeth bared, exciting him. "Need you." He licked at Mikhail's neck, at the place where he bit the most, Mikhail's blood sweetest there. He could feel the beat of Mikhail's heart in the vein beneath his tongue, the blood flowing quickly. "Yes, I..." Mikhail stilled, nostrils flaring. "What was that?" He opened his mouth to complain when he heard a thump, a low cry of pain.

Mikhail was gone before he could move, muscled body breaking the doorframe as he slammed through. He followed quickly, ready to back Mikhail up, to defend the pack as if it were his own. As he flew through the door to find Mikhail confronting a vampire, it occurred to him that they were, in fact defending him. He hissed, and bared his teeth, striding down the porch to join Mikhail. Mikhail's snarls were joined by the pack's, white teeth snapping and tearing the pale flesh away from the other nightfeeder. He hovered, ready to leap in and add his own fangs to the pack's, but they had it under control, the intruder going down under them with a gurgling cry. He hissed again as he watched, feeling a sense of satisfaction go through him when the body stopped moving. He put his hand on Mikhail's back, pride filling him. "He's dead." Mikhail howled, the pack answering him, the sound filling the air, the forest, the entire sky. He shivered and realized that he hadn't recognized the nightfeeder. There had been no reason for this one to have a grudge against him. "Mikhail. Do you know him?" He shook Mikhail’s shoulder, a feeling of urgency climbing his spine. "The nightfeeder -- was he here for *you*?" "No, Steven. We are here for you." The voice was familiar and saddened, five nightfeeders sliding through the snow, heading for them. Oh, fuck. Gunter. He didn't think he knew the other four. It didn't matter, really. "Get inside," he hissed to Mikhail. "Take the pack with you." He would not be the reason Mikhail lost even one more. He would get Mikhail to safety and then maybe if he flew, he could get away. Five of them. He didn't know if it were even possible to get far enough away. "I won't leave you, mate." Mikhail stared them down. "You are pack."

He was torn, so torn, between the fierce joy and pride at Mikhail's words and fear for his mate. If he led Gunter and the others away Mikhail would be safe. He let the pride win, let that show, and, with far more bravado than he actually felt, he stood straight and raised his chin. "Our kind don't travel in packs, Gunter. Why have you come?" "Because of the changling." Gunter and his band all spat into the snow at the word, making Steven snarl. "He is worth twenty of you!" "You had to send a thief, sneaking in the night to poison my family. Who has the most worth?" Gunter and the others spat again, and Steven vibrated, felt the tension ratcheting up. He would take Gunter. If Mikhail could catch the throat of one, and the pack at least hold their own with the other three they had a chance. Maybe. Mikhail's heat at his side said they would make this stand or die trying. "Why are you here?" he asked again. "What do you care who I take as lover." "With a *changling*, Steven. It is forbidden!" "Says who?" Gunter sputtered. "For thousands of years we have been at war!" "Mikhail and I have no war. We are mates." He stood straight as he said the words, felt the rightness of them. Mikhail nodded. "He is pack. I will not desert him." The pack howled all around them, their voices sure, strong. "It is an abomination, Steven. And if you do not end this you will be destroyed along with the *dogs*." He shook his head. "It is not an abomination. Gunter, listen to me -- there is a bond between Mikhail and I like none I have ever fed with. His blood... it gives me such strength. And I may take as much as I want -- his recovery time is a thousand times as quick as a human's!"

"Abomination!" Gunter repeated, the snarl exposing the vampire’s fangs. "You have a single opportunity. Turn and leave or die." Mikhail's eyes glowed, teeth bared. Gunter ignored Mikhail, attention on him. "One step, Steven. All you need to do is take one step to join us and leave this dog behind." "I am where I want to be." "Then you will die there." Steven shouted as loudly as he could and flew at Gunter. The pack attacked with him, moving as one. Moving with them. Gunter was much older than he was, stronger, and Steven had to let everything else go, had to trust that Mikhail and the pack had his back with the other four nightfeeders. And he did. That knowledge loaned him strength and he met Gunter head on going for the jugular. Blood poured into his mouth, Gunter's head snapping back. He could hear a dim scream behind him, smell the wash of blood. Gunter's blood continued to pump over him, and Steven drank and drank, the kill touching something feral and not so deep inside him. Full of Gunter's blood, the vampire's power, he snapped Gunter's neck and turned, jumping into the fray, taking the neck of the nightfeeder who was besting two of Mikhail's wolves. A head went rolling across the ground, Mikhail's howl enormous, echoing within him. They made short work of the remaining vampires, all of the pack having a chance to be a part of the kills. It was all over as quickly as it had become, Steven almost shocked to still be alive, the bodies of his fellow nightfeeders broken and torn around him. "Don't let them eat any of the bodies," he told Mikhail. "We must stand watch over them and make sure they meet the sun's rays."

Mikhail nodded, growling and snarling at the wolves, driving them back before turning to him. "You aren't hurt?" He looked down at himself. He was covered in blood, but he was pretty sure none of it was his own. "I don't believe so. You?" He reached for Mikhail, fingers wiping at the blood on his lover's face. "I have a few bites. Nothing deadly." There were a few deep bites, blood sluggish. He leaned in and licked at the one on Mikhail's cheek, the taste of Mikhail’s blood sudden and sharp on his tongue, replacing the acidic, almost dusty taste Gunter had left in his mouth. Mikhail growled, eyes glowing. "Mate." "Mine," he growled back, throwing himself at Mikhail with as much force as he'd gone after Gunter. Only his mouth met Mikhail's in a kiss, their teeth clacking, his own lips splitting from the force of it. The heat poured over him, Mikhail like a furnace against him. The copper of blood surrounded him, the flavor of his mate undeniable. He licked and bit at Mikhail's lips, rubbing against his mate, celebrating their union right there among the carnage. Mikhail dragged him close, growling and snarling into the kisses, rutting against him like an animal. His animal. He tore what had survived of their clothing away, pressing them together skin on skin, each sound from Mikhail sending him higher, making him need more. Nothing made sense, nothing but the heat between them, the pleasure, the pressure. His mouth slid over Mikhail's face, and he nibbled at every scratch, every cut. Then he found Mikhail's neck, his whole body shaking as his mouth wrapped around the skin that covered Mikhail's jugular. Mikhail's chin lifted, throat offered to him, bared to him. "Mine." The word snarled from him, and he bit into Mikhail's skin, the blood splashing

on his tongue. The taste was good and right and completely washed away the tastes and scents of the interlopers. Mikhail howled in answer, blood pulsing into his lips, his veins filled with pack. So good. It completely washed away the taste of Gunter and the other interlopers. It made him strong again, made him feel as if he could take on another dozen nightfeeders on his own if he had to. But that taste, Mikhail's blood -- it meant that he didn't have to. He never would. He grabbed hold tight of Mikhail's ass and rocked into the strong body, his come spraying, wetting the sweatpants he wore, scenting them with his need. Mikhail's scent followed soon behind, his mate's sobs and calls filling the air. He licked the wound until the flow of blood stopped, his eyes meeting his Mate's. "Pack," he said softly, knowing it meant 'mine' and 'I love you'. "Pack." Mikhail's lips clung to his, eyes glowing. He thought he heard a noise from the ground and his head turned like a shot, but the nightfeeders were all still dead. Dead enough that they would remain so until the sun's rays came in and took them. Turning back to Mikhail, he smiled. "Stay with me until dawn?" It would be Mikhail who would have to finish this, Mikhail who would watch the bodies until the sun had completely destroyed them. "I will stay with you for an eternity." Mikhail moved him toward the porch, toward the cushioned seats with blankets. He settled, Mikhail next to him, one strong arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close as the pack settled at their feet. "I'm going to hold you to that," he told his lover quietly. Mikhail nodded, cheek against his own. "Do you believe that your long life will become mine?" "I believe that I am in your blood now as much as you are in mine. That you will live as long as I feed from you and keep your blood new." He'd heard tales, stories of favorites who never aged until they were grown tired of.

"Then we will live, mate. We will thrive here." There was a wealth of satisfaction in his lover's voice. "More may come." His kind were stubborn, though they also had a will to live, to survive and they didn't work well together -- that would work in the pack's favor. "Let them come. They will learn." "Or they will continue to die." He knew instinctively that he and Mikhail could only grow stronger the longer they were together, their blood becoming the same, their bodies taking on each other's strength. "At any rate, I believe we are safe until next winter. They will not risk the longer days of summer." "Mmm. Summer. We can run under the moon, hunt together." Mikhail licked his cheek, chuffing softly. "Spend the long horrible days curled up in our bed." He nuzzled into the touches. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to board up the bedroom window?" "I was considering remodeling a bit, creating a section in the center of the house that you could move around in all day, should you need to." "Oh. Mikhail. Truly? That would be." He swallowed. He knew that Mikhail loved him, knew that they would be together forever, but to make changes to a home that had been in the family for generations, for some reason that more than anything proved to him how deeply Mikhail had accepted him. "I would like that." He might even offer to help.

Epilogue Mikhail padded back to the house, his pack playful and happy around him. Generation after generation of pups tussled, his pack huge now, strong under the light of the moon. He could hear the sounds of his mate, moving on the porch, waiting to meet him, to draw him in before the dawn. His claws tapped on the steps, nostrils flaring as he scented Steven, the smell home and sex and male. "Mate," murmured Steven, going to his knees and allowing him to rub his furry face against the pale, smooth cheeks of his mate. Steven's fingers slid over him, rubbing, fingernails sharp as they found the perfect spot behind one ear and scratched at it. Oh. Oh, mate. Good. His tongue lolled, eyes rolling like dice. Steven laughed, the sound growing louder as the pups all crowded in for a chance at such touches for themselves. Steven was bowled over by their enthusiasm, landing on his ass. He romped a bit himself, licking and biting at Steven's toes, rolling one pup to nuzzle its belly. Steven's laughter continued until it turned into hitching breaths and Steven started pushing at them. "Enough. Mikhail." The moon was fading, dawn creeping up and he growled, moving them both toward the house. Soon. Soon. The change. Soon. His growls had the pups scattering and Steven stood, not needing any prompting to go in and out of the sun's way. One small pup sat at the door and whined softly, eyes on Steven. "Mikhail... how can I say no to that look?" He chuffed, grabbed the pup by the scruff. His mate spoiled them, but the puppies adored Steven. Steven beamed at him and closed the door behind the three of them. "Not in the bedroom

though," Steven told the puppy, leading it into the kitchen and making sure there was water and food in the bowls they left out for just this eventuality. Steven took off the shirt he'd been wearing, leaving it in the small basket that sat in one corner, gave the pup a last pat and headed toward the bedroom, his mate moving quickly now as the sun's first rays made their presence known. He ran for the bedroom, paws becoming claws as he crossed the threshold. He howled through the change, rolling as his body creaked and groaned. The door closed behind them, the room he'd rebuilt for Steven safe for his sun-shunning lover. Even as he changed, as he took his human form again, Steven stripped, body long and pale, shaft hard for him. He panted, staring up at Steven, licking his lips, over and over. Pretty. Fine. His own. Steven straddled his hips, hands sliding on his cheeks. "You always need a shave after the full moon," Steven told him, bending to rub against him, covering him with the scent of his mate. "I always need to shave." His voice sounded like his throat had been scraped with a corn cob, the growls still so close. Steven laughed, bending to lick at his Adam's apple. "I won't argue that, mate." His chin lifted, hands wrapping around Steven's hips, dragging him closer. "More." "A tongue bath, Mikhail?" Steven's eyes twinkled down at him and his lover's tongue ran from his jaw up along his cheek. "Not too fuzzy for you, mate?" His fingers dragged down Steven's belly, fingers wrapping around that hard cock. A sharp gasp and a jerk of Steven's hips answered him. "My secret is out," murmured Steven. "I'll take you any way I can get you." "I am yours." They mated for life. He was only different in that his life stretched out for generations.

Steven looked down at him, sharp eyes soft. "I know." The moment stretched between them, sweet and hot, and then it was shattered, Steven's eyes growing hungry. Their mouths pressed together, Steven's kiss bruising. They rolled on the floor, Steven lean and long, solid beneath him as he pushed down, hips rolling as he rutted and humped. Steven bucked up against him, meeting each push, needy, wanton noises filling the air. He bit at Steven's lips, tugging hard enough to make his mate groan. Steven's head tilted back. "I'm pale, Mikhail. Mark me." That pale skin was salty against his lips, the blood - his blood - warming his lover, drawing to the surface. Steven's hips bucked again, their pricks bumping, sliding together. "Yes, Mikhail!" His teeth scraped, dragging along Steven's skin, nearly breaking through. Steven's whimper was sweet, hands grabbing at his skin, trying to pull him even closer. He growled, flipping Steven beneath him, teeth on his lover's nape, cock bumping Steven's hole. "Need." Pushing back against him, Steven whimpered. "Yes. Oh, Mikhail, take me!" "Yes." He roared, pushing in hard, fucking Steven immediately, not holding back at all. His lover cried out, taking him in without question, bucking back to meet each of his thrusts. "Yours, Mikhail." "Mine. Mate." He yanked Steven closer, hips punching into that perfect heat. His. His. His. Steven's ass rippled around his cock, his mate's head dropping, presenting the long nape to him.

Mikhail bit hard, holding on, the beast still too close to the surface for anything else as he drove them toward completion. His mate screamed, seed spraying onto the floor as Steven's ass squeezed tight around him. His own orgasm rocked him to the core, his cock throbbing as he shot. Steven was panting, body still rippling around him, soft cries sounding now and then. "Love." "Mate." He nodded, trusting Steven to hold his weight. "I am." Steven's head turned, mouth wrapping around the inside of his arm, teeth sliding along his skin, but not breaking it. "Hungry?" He rolled onto the floor, spreading himself wide. Steven's nostrils flared, eyes eating him up. "For you -- always. Always, Mikhail." The long, aristocratic nose slid up along his arm. He shuddered, stretched further. "My skin is tight." The dark eyes glittered at him as Steven showed him the sharp fangs. "You want it, Mikhail? You need me to feed?" His cock jerked, tried to fill again. "I need." "Then all I need is to decide where." That nose returned to his skin, rubbing along his collarbone, over his neck, and then moving down, teasing him. He struggled at first, then relaxed, letting Steven find the spot he would. Steven whimpered. He knew what his trust meant to his mate. A short, sharp nip broke the skin right by his left hip, Steven lapping the few drops that bled from the tiny cut. "More. More, mate. I need you." He needed Steven to ease him.

His legs were spread, another nick, this one on his right inner thigh, and more lapping to drive him crazy. Steven had to know, because his mate laughed, surging up his body, smile wild. And then came the bite he'd been waiting for, Steven's teeth sinking into the skin over his jugular. The sensation flooded him, made his entire body flush as if he were coming again. Steven drank him down, undulating against him as the blood poured from him and into his mate. Life. Eternal life. Pack. Love. Mate. The words floated through his mind as the blood and pressure pulsed from him. Eventually Steven was done, tongue lapping at his neck as the flow slowed. His mate stretched, rippling against him. "Mmm... I'll never tire of you inside me, Mikhail." "Even if we all make you snarl before the moon changes?" "You make me snarl before the moon changes?" Steven chuckled, rubbing lightly against him. "I might even miss it if you didn't make me snarl." "We would all miss you." None of the pack could remember a time when Steven wasn't a part of them. "I know. We are pack." He was given a hard kiss. "The second best thing you've given me." "The second?" Steven wriggled against him. "Can you not guess what the first is?" Mikhail grinned, drew Steven down for a deep kiss, then he pulled back, teasing. "No. I can't imagine at all." "You know very well you're the first, though I don't know why! Impertinent pup!" "Your impertinent pup." He laughed with Steven, rolling them toward the bed. "Only yours."

"Always mine." "Yes, mate. For an eternity." For life. End.