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Chapter Thirty-Two

D ray

I collapse onto my bed face down, arms spread wide. My body’s covered in sweat and mud and grass. I smell like shit and every muscle in my body aches. My stomach growls with hunger and my cock is hard as steel. All those base animalistic instincts still roll through my body.

All I want to do is hunt and fuck, fuck and hunt.

But I’m also fucking exhausted. I’ve been running through the woods for eight hours straight, high on adrenaline and the full moon. My throat’s sore from howling and there're bits of rabbit stuck between my teeth.

I wanna sleep. We move out in three hours.

I also wanna hunt and fuck.

More precisely, I want to hunt down my little kitten and fuck her.

I groan, thrusting my hips into the bed. I can smell her in the tower. I can smell her fucking arousal. It makes my mouth water.

There’s no way I’m sleeping. I roll onto my back. There’s no way she’s going to let me fuck her smelling and looking like this.

I stagger into the bathroom, ram on the shower and duck inside. The warm water races down my body, turning a rusty brown with mud and blood. It pools at my feet, and swirls down the drain.

When finally the water runs clear, I smack my fist against the button and step out, wrapping a towel around my waist. The thing tents around my cock. Still stiff. Still determined. Adrenaline and energy pulses through my veins, my heart beats in my chest.

Hunt, fuck, hunt, fuck.

I stagger to the sink, wipe the side of my hand across the condensation gathered on the mirror, and stare at my reflection as I comb my fingers through my tangled hair.

I look all right. Still, I need to do something about those teeth.

I brush them twice, spitting organic matter into the sink and even gargling with fucking mouthwash.

Then I grab a pair of sweatpants and start hunting.

She’s no longer in our tower. I follow my nose from Beaufort’s room, down the staircase towards the front door.

Standing right in front of that door, arms folded over his chest, gloves off, is Thorne.

“Hey buddy,” I say, my voice low and threatening. “What you doing?”

He glares at me and the message is clear. He’s blocking my exit.

“I need to see her,” I growl.

“No!” he says .

I take a menacing step towards him. Nothing and no one is going to stop me from fucking that girl.

“Go back to bed, Dray,” Beaufort says from behind me. “We’re leaving in a couple of hours. Go get some sleep.”

I growl at him too and bare my teeth.

Shadows flicker from his fingers in warning.

“It’s too dangerous,” Thorne says.

“I’m not going to eat her,” I hiss. “I’m going to fuck her. I’m going to pump her full of my seed and she’s going to breed my pups.”

“Fuck,” Beaufort mutters. “He’s still fucking feral.”

I growl at him again and snap my teeth. I’ll give him fucking feral.

“It’s too dangerous,” Thorne repeats, shadows starting to weave from his bare hands. “You can’t see her like this.”

“She’s my mate. I need to fuck my mate,” I say, my own magic hissing in the air. “Pups conceived under a full moon are always the strongest.”

It’s instinct. It’s the pull of the moon. It’s in my blood. It’s in my fucking balls. Dictating my actions. Demanding them.

“Fucking hell,” Beaufort says, “you’re not impregnating anyone. Least of all our mate.”

“That’s what mates are for,” I growl at him. Then swing my gaze Thorne’s way when I hear the floorboard beneath his feet creak.

I hold one hand out in Thorne’s direction and one in Beaufort’s. I swing my gaze between them as they creep towards me.

“You’ll regret this,” I snarl.

I’m the strongest wolf in the realm. I’ll tear them to pieces if they stop me from seeing my kitten. My soft kitten who I want on her hands and knees, purring as I thrust into her from behind. My scent spikes.

“Shit, that stinks,” Beaufort mutters. “He’s worse than usual. I didn’t think it would be that bad. Thank fuck she’s not here.” He takes a step towards me. “So much for a mate being a calming influence.”

“Let me through!” I growl. And then it happens. They both jump me at once. I fire magic at them and it collides with theirs mid-air, sparking and splintering.

I swing my fist, punching Beaufort’s cheek, feeling it crack. My knuckles crack too, but the adrenaline masks any pain.

I go to swing at him again, to sink my teeth into his shoulder, but then Thorne’s magic whips around my torso. I howl in agony, all the fight in me fleeing in an instant.

I sink to my knees, struggling to breathe. The pain is so intense, I feel like my brain is going to explode in my skull. I screw my eyes shut, clamping my jaw together, whimpering.

Bile sloshes in my throat. I might vomit. Instead, I pass out.

I wake to Beaufort shaking at my shoulder.

I blink open my lids and look up into his face. He has a bruise ringing his left eye.

“Did I do that?” I ask, yawning.

I look around. I’m in my bed, dressed in a pair of sweatpants. I’ve no idea how the hell I got here, or why the hell every part of my body hurts so much.

“Yeah,” Beaufort says, touching his cheek. “You were fucking feral.”

“I was?” I grin, rolling up to sit, which fucking hurts. “What I do?”

“Only threatening to go fuck a litter of pups into the belly of our thrall.”

“Fuuuuuck,” I say, running my hand through my hair, only for my fingers to be caught in a web of tangles. “That sounds hot.”

“It’s not. She could’ve been hurt.”

“Maybe she would have liked it. Did we ask her?”

Beaufort scowls at me, which makes his cheek move. He winces.

“Why haven’t you healed it?” I ask.

“I was getting some sleep! We gotta be out of here in half an hour.”

“Oh, man!” I moan, yawning again.

Then I smack my hands either side of his face and blow my magic across his cheek, healing the broken blood vessels and removing the coalesced blood.

“Good as new,” I say, flopping back on the bed. “Want to return the favor? I feel like shit.”

“No, you were an asshole,” Beaufort says. “Only seems fair you should suffer.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” I whine. “It was the full moon.”

Beaufort scoffs, and heads for the door. “Thirty minutes. We have to be ready to go in thirty minutes.”

Thirty minutes? Does that give me long enough to race over to our little thrall’s tower, pin her down and–

“Don’t even think about it,” Beaufort calls from the landing.

I laugh. My bond brother knows me well. The full moon’s effects haven’t dissipated yet. They’re still shimmering in my blood.