Page 144

Story: May the Wolf Die

Dammit, I hated it here. I knew that shifters had lived in havens for hundreds of years, and that when Alaroth took the throne he started separating the designations—betas in the labor camps, alphas in the garrisons, and omegas used as needed, either for his pleasure or the alphas’.

But they weren’t allowed to form packs or bonds, so neither alphas nor omegas could find any satisfaction besides the fleeting physical. I didn’t have a pack myself, but I could feel the call for one. The need to claim others as my own.

It was different from the connection I had with Marlowe. ‘Had’ being the operative term, because now she wanted nothing to do with me.

But the alphas here weren’t… normal. They’d been raised as mindless grunts, not as individuals to pursue their own interests and become well-rounded people. I couldn’t even hold a conversation with one, they only talked about fighting and fucking.

It was exhausting.

The omegas were brought up separately until they came to the age of maturity, the king taking the ones he liked while the rest were sent to places like this, forced to service the alphas and provide them an outlet for their frustrations.

And by the look of the scar on this one’s face, it wasn’t always just for sex.

The ends of her soft, shiny black hair tickled my chest as she worked, bandaging the worst of the cuts. Her chestnut brown skin looked warm, and large, brown eyes with thick lashes watched me carefully. Timidly.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said quietly. Maybe she’d already guessed, seeing as how I wasn’t like the other alphas here. But I wanted her to know for certain that she was safe with me.

Her cinnamon and clove perfume washed over me and I closed my eyes, inadvertently licking my lips. “You smell like Christmas.”

The omega’s giggle was like a bell. “Krissmiss?What’s that?”

“A holiday on Earth,” I explained. Her full, wide hips swayed hypnotically as she got up to grab more bandages from a nearby table. The dress she wore was thin, and I saw the shadow of her thick thighs. My cock began to stir as I imagined them around my face.

I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Her curvy body was exactly my type, and I willed my cock to behave. She didn’t need me coming onto her and knotting her like the others in this place. I had just promised her I wouldn’t hurt her, for Moons’ sake.

She hummed a little song as she worked, but every moment I spent in her presence was making more difficult to contain myself. Especially as she moved onto the cuts on my abdomen.

“Spring…”

I was lost in a daydream of fucking her against the wall. “Hm?”

“That’s what you smell like. It’s nice.”

My cock wasn’t listening anymore, and now stood straight up. It was times like these it might have been better if I wore clothes.

“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice getting low.

“Canna. And you’re the Commander.”

I grabbed her hand and took it to my lips, kissing it gently. “You can call me Ezra.”

Her cheeks blushed adorably, and a fresh wave of her scent released into the air. She took her hand back and then looked at my cock, hard and ready to go. Pre-cum glistening on the head, and she bit her lip.

“Canna, you are here to dress my wounds. I don’t expect anything else of you.”

She turned towards me, hurt in her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m almost done, I apologize.”

Shit, she thought I was spurning her. I stifled a groan as I pushed myself up. “No, you have nothing to apologize for. I simply mean you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The hurt melted away, replaced by a mischievous understanding. She slowly ran a finger from my swollen knot, up my shaft and to the tip. My whole body shivered. “And what about the things I want to do?” she purred.

Fuck. I could lose myself in those eyes. Thosethighs…

“What do you want to do, Canna?” I asked, my throat bobbing.

She moved herself onto the bed between my legs, grabbing a hold of my cock and lowering her mouth right above it. “I want to taste you.” Her warm, soft tongue circled the head, and I moaned, my fingers digging into the sheets.

One hand massaging my balls, the other on my knot, she expertly worked her mouth up and down, licking every inch and inserting as much of me into her mouth as she could. When her lidded eyes met mine I nearly lost it, resisting the urge to buck and cause her to gag.

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