Chapter 2 Luther

Here lies Luther Gray, Alpha of the Dawn Guard pack, laid to rest by a Moon-Blessed tree.

I struggle against the tree trunk, clawing and biting, filling my mouth and paws with splinters. I can taste my own blood, smell my own fear, but worst of all, I can see the flames on the standing part of the tree get closer and closer to me. Moon only knows how I ended up in this exact spot for the lightning to strike, but here I am, and I’ll soon be dead.

This was only supposed to be a quick run. I just needed to burn off some steam. I could smell the storm coming, and I knew that now was the time. I didn’t tell anyone. I just jumped out the second-story bathroom window, shifted in mid air, and made a break for the treeline.

I needed space, but more than that, I needed time.

The Dark Moon pack has encroached on my territory. They have always wanted it as their own, but with the new young alpha Damien, they have become positively feral.

For a pack that mostly resides in the underground passages of Seattle, using the subways and sewers to patrol the city right under the humans’ noses, we aren’t exactly the most tame. Far from the fanciest. We’re down-to-earth, strong, capable wolves.

The Dark Moon pack comes from money.

Where we put everything into the city and make sure everyone, humans included, is as safe as can be, the Dark Moon pack brings only domination. Letting them take over the city will not just be bad for me, as pack leader, but for all living, breathing beings. Our easy, relaxing way of living was about to become a bloody battle for dominance.

Unless I accept their offer.

Catarina Valentine, sister to the alpha, the catch of a lifetime, or so they would have me believe. The Valentine twins, both blonde and with blue eyes, are mirror images of each other. They are fair and an athletic sort of build, rather than the bulk and brawn that Dawn Guard usually has.

Her unique form is how they want to pull me in. Her body is strong, but still soft. She’s tall, almost as tall as me, with years of schooling to perfect her grace and dignity. She could be a princess in a castle, and that’s how she expects to be treated.

I am male, and I am not blind, so Catarina rouses the side of my wolf that craves a mate, the side that desires pups, but most of all, the side that would ravage her in bed if given half the chance. She’s beautiful, busty, and certainly lusty, but she is not my choice.

Sofia, my elderly pack Luna, says she could be my fated mate. It just hasn’t clicked. I haven’t been close enough to her, haven't smelled her. Sofia wants me to do this, to merge our packs, to secure peace, but I do not.

While I desire peace, like any good Alpha, I have never desired to settle down. I can have pups perfectly fine within my pack when I choose to, but I find myself drawn to the humans. They are weak, they need my protection, they are so innocent and oblivious to everything going on around them.

…and they taste like a summer’s day in a fertile meadow drizzled with honey.

So as soon as the meeting in their four-story mansion was over and Sofia had been driven home by my pack enforcer, I made excuses to use the restroom before I was meant to meet Catarina in a private sitting room.

A sitting room fully equipped with a four-poster bed with silk sheets and nothing else.

I ran like a scared dog, and now here I am pinned under a tree waiting for death.

I let out a mournful howl, lamenting to the moon somewhere behind the clouds. I am a coward, and I will die for it. I should have stood and faced the Dark Moon, I should have told them no, I should not have ever run away from responsibility.

I freeze as a breaking twig interrupts the monotony of the raging thunderstorm.

Sniffing, I try to smell who could be here. What foe, what predator? 

The scent of a female hits me like a freight train. My eyes narrow. Did Catarina follow me? Is she here, now, in the tall grass just watching me struggle?

I push harder against the tree, fighting with all my might to escape. The scent of the female is intoxicating. My stomach grumbles; there’s blood with the scent. Rich and warm and-

A woman tumbles out of the tall grass in a mess of twigs and dirt and rocks.

…and human.

I stare in disbelief as she rights herself. She is torn to shreds, what must have been a nice dress, now no more than a mere rag. She stumbles towards me, she’s saying something, but the blood pounding in my ears won't let me hear a word. 

I bare my teeth, flattening my ears back, warning her, but she comes closer nevertheless. Human women aren’t scared of anything, are they?

“Oh, gosh, puppy! How did you end up like this?” she says, her voice barely reaching my ears. I notice her fake eyelashes are coming loose, looking like hairy caterpillars trying to escape her face. It almost makes me want to laugh. What is a human like this doing way out here in the woods?

She doesn’t try to touch me, but she lets me sniff her. I lick my lips, I can’t help it. This woman is thick and fleshy, her body rounded and soft, whereas all in my pack are hard and strong. She is even the opposite of Catarina in every way. She’s short, soft, and caring…and she has the largest breasts I’ve ever seen up close that didn’t belong to an erotic dancer.

“I’ll get you out of here!” she promises, for what isn’t the first time i think, due to her frustration. 

She turns and eyes the burning tree, the fire igniting her green irises. I swallow hard and try to hold my breath. She is far too close for comfort. Even with the fake eyelashes blowing in the wind, she is beautiful.

“I’m gonna step over you now, okay? Don’t you dare bite me, or I swear to all that is good and holy I will let you die under this tree!”

Bring it on, little pillow woman. You will never be able to move this tree. I try to will her to just move along, leave me to my fate, but then one plump leg in a hiking boot steps over my body, and she bends over, leaning against the tree, and pushes.

I must already be dead, it’s the only answer, because seeing her most private of places exposed over my muzzle in a white lace thong is something I never knew I needed. I resist every desire in my body to lean up and sniff her core. Every single part of my wolf form aches to grab her and pin her down and take her; it is only the logic inside my brain that holds my desires in check.

“Fuck, puppy, you are really stuck!” Her voice is like a salve to my tired soul, foul language and all. She is perfection personified.

She slips in the mud, her curvaceous ass falling on my chest with the most delicious weight. There’s no helping it, with her body on mine, her scent overtakes me. She is aroused, or was recently, and the scent of her arousal makes my vision blur. I tremble beneath her, aching to touch, to feel, to lick. The hem of her dress bounces above my nose with every push, the cherries blurring in my vision like the most delectable dessert.

All right, I can die here. This is good enough. What a glorious way to die.

“Oh, puppy, you’re shaking!” she cries, moving off of me, crushing my hopes and dreams that she might slip again, but then she’s leaning over me. Her beautiful eyes peer into mine, her breasts lush and pressing against my furry chest. 

She strokes my muzzle and scratches behind my ears as she makes gentle cooing noises. “I know you must be cold and scared. I know I am. But I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of here, okay? I promise.”

Yup, this is heaven.

I am a dirty, dastardly male because I let my tongue lash out and lick her lips without thinking. She even tastes like heaven… and cherry Chapstick. I shudder again and lick her face once more, before I lose control and lick every inch of her exposed skin frantically. 

The salt and sweat and sweetness of this female have me intoxicated. She smells like cherries and vanilla, blood and dirt. I move from licking her face to her neck, frantically lapping at her skin. Smelling her, savoring her, memorizing every inch of her soft flesh like a map to a treasure. A treasure in her bra. I lick lower, lower. She’s laughing, petting me, calling me a good boy.

My eyes roll back in my head as my tongue finally slips between her breasts. She is everything I could have ever desired, every wish I’ve ever had is nothing compared to these moments tasting the flesh of the most beautiful and delicious human I’ve ever laid eyes on.

I wiggle beneath her, desperately trying to lick lower. She’ll figure out what I am when I shift, and then I’ll mark her and mate her, and no one will ever take this female away from me and live.

“That’s it! Fight! Wiggle! We can get you out if we work together!” 

She gets off me and whimpers like a puppy who just had its favorite toy taken away. 

Moving around me, she slips her arms under my back and grabs on to both of my fur-covered elbows.

“Wiggle! Wiggle as your life depends on it!” she demands.

When I do, I realize that every single soft part of her body seems to jiggle with my wiggle, and I wiggle like I never have before. Gone are the thoughts of escaping, gone are my concerns for the pack; all that exists now is the way her body moves with my every undulation. I imagine how she would move in a bed, naked, with me buried deep inside her, and I fight even harder to escape.

I bite onto the parts of her dress that hang loose on her middle and yank. Of course, she thinks I’m trying to escape, but I get what I’m aiming for. Her dress rips at the seam between her breast and her delicious mounds are exposed. The lace that barely contains them matches her bra, and I growl low with unbridled desire. This is my woman, my mate, my-

“Christina? Fuck, Chrissy, is that you?”

Who. The fuck. Is that?