Amanda Steiger Runaway

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Runaway

Amanda Steiger

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2009 Amanda Steiger

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ISBN: 978-1-59596-855-5

Formats Available:
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Publisher:

Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1046
Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Maryam Salim

Cover Artist: Reneé George

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Runaway

Amanda Steiger

Keith is a werewolf on the run. Several years ago he fled his pack and its cruel alpha,
and has been moving from place to place ever since. A lone drifter. Then he meets

Taylor, a recently infected lycanthrope. As Keith helps Taylor come to terms with his
nature, a powerful attraction grows between them… but Keith’s past comes back to
haunt him in the form of Lucas, his vindictive ex-alpha. Now, Keith and Taylor must
fight for their lives and freedom.

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Chapter One

It was the smell that had first caught his attention -- the sharp, musky,

unmistakable smell of wolf.

The man sat alone in a corner of the diner, wearing an oversized sweatshirt. His

brown hair hung disheveled and wild around his face, and his eyes held a faraway,

haunted look. As Keith watched, his fingers tightened on the handle of his coffee cup

and a patch of dark fur sprouted on the back of his wrist. The man shut his eyes. Sweat

gleamed on his brow as he breathed in deeply, and a moment later, the fur receded

back into his skin.

Keith sipped his coffee. There wasn’t a pack anywhere within a hundred miles.

The presence of another werewolf here, now, could only mean one of two things. Either

the young man was new -- recently infected -- or he was a stray, like Keith.

When the young man left the diner, Keith followed him down the street to the

bridge at the edge of town. Thunder growled, and lightning split the dark sky. Below,

the rain-swollen river frothed and churned. Clouds of muddy foam, like chocolate

mousse, swirled over the surface. The young man stared at the water, gripping the

cement rail with both hands.

“Hey!” Keith called.

The man tensed and turned to face him. His lips pulled back from sharp teeth

and his eyes flared a bright yellow. “Stay back!” he shouted.

Keith held up both hands, palms out. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to

ask you a few questions. How long have you been a werewolf?”

His eyes widened. “You’re crazy. There’s no such thing as werewolves.”

“There’s no use denying. I can smell it.”

The young man turned to run. Keith lunged and grabbed his wrist.

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“Let go!”

“Listen to me. I can help you.”

“No one can help me.”

Keith’s grip tightened. The young man’s pulse drummed under his fingers. “At

least give me a chance.”

The man looked up, and Keith saw something change in those eyes. The fear was

still there, but there was a flicker of hope, as well -- a desperate desire to believe the

truth in his words.

“What’s your name?” asked Keith.

“Taylor. Taylor Brandon.”

“How long have you been a werewolf?”

“A few months.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“No.” Taylor hesitated. “You said you could help me. Does that mean there’s a

cure?”

“No, but I can teach you how to control the changes, how to live with what you

are. I’m like you. I’m a werewolf.”

“You?”

“That’s right. We’re the same. Let me help you. Please.”

Taylor looked down at the river, then back at Keith. With his wet hair and

clothes plastered to his body, he looked smaller than he was and vulnerable. Lost. “I

have nowhere to go. No home. No money.”

Keith placed his hands on Taylor’s shoulders and felt him shivering. “I’ll take

you to my place. Once you warm up and get some dry clothes, we can talk.”

* * *

Taylor huddled on the faded sofa in Keith’s apartment, his wet brown hair

plastered to his brow and neck. He’d borrowed dry clothes from Keith, and the white

shirt clung to his damp skin, emphasizing the ridges and hollows of his slim, hard

body.

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“Feeling any better?” asked Keith.

“Yes, thank you.”

Keith eyed his new guest. Taylor was tall, about Keith’s height, with long, sleekly

muscled legs, full lips and big hazel eyes framed by thick lashes. He’d showered and

shaved earlier, and he looked younger without the scruffy stubble, his smooth cheeks

still flushed from the hot water. Cleaned up, he was pretty cute -- a far cry from the

ragged, disheveled man Keith had spotted in the diner. The shirt’s neck dipped,

offering a glimpse of smooth chest. Keith couldn’t help wondering if that skin was as

soft as it looked, but he pushed the thought away. Now was hardly the time to be

ogling him -- there were important matters to deal with. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty.” His wide eyes never left Keith, and his shoulders were rigid beneath

his thin shirt.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you. I may be a werewolf, but I’m not a monster

and neither are you.”

He dropped his gaze. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes, I am.”

“Lycanthropy is just a condition. It doesn’t make you evil.”

“You don’t understand. I hurt someone.” His hands curled into fists. “When I

changed for the first time, I panicked and ran through the streets. This guy was in my

way, and I just… lost it. I didn’t even think. I just ripped into him with my teeth and

kept running. I woke up later with blood on my hands, blood in my mouth.” He wiped

the back of one hand across his lips. “It’s going to happen again soon, I know it. I’m

running out of time. I knew I had to stop myself from hurting anyone else, and there

was only one surefire way I could think of.”

A chill skittered down Keith’s spine. “You were going to jump off the bridge?”

“I didn’t know what else to do. It had to be quick, or I’d lose my nerve. I just

couldn’t go on, knowing I was a danger to everyone around me. Better to die as a man

than live as a monster.”

“I told you, you’re not a monster.”

He bit his full lower lip. “But…”

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“What happened wasn’t your fault. You weren’t in control of your actions. If

you’d had someone there to help you through the first change, it would have been

different. Where do you live? In town?”

“I’ve been staying in a motel. I came here to get away from what I did, but the

memories follow me wherever I go.”

“Yeah, memories are a bitch that way.” His voice softened. “I’ve got a pot of

coffee brewing. Want some?”

“Sure.”

Keith poured a cup of strong, black coffee and brought it to Taylor, who took a

sip. He looked around at the threadbare, faded blue carpet, the naked, off-white walls.

The living room had no furniture, save for the sofa -- a lump of stuffing held together

with duct tape -- and a tiny TV on a rickety coffee table. A few cardboard moving boxes

stood in a stack against the wall. “Did you just move in?”

“I’ve been here for about six months. I just haven’t completely unpacked.”

“Oh. It’s… cozy.”

“That’s one word for it. I do all right for a stray, I guess.”

“Stray?”

“Guess I’ve got some explaining to do.” Keith poured himself a cup of coffee,

blew away the steam, and sipped. “Most werewolves live in packs.”

“Just how many werewolves are there?”

“Probably a few hundred in the U.S.”

“That many? How is it that regular people don’t know about them? About us?”

“Well, there are always sightings and rumors, but we’re very careful about

keeping our secret. The pack alphas make sure of that. Anyway, a stray is just a

werewolf without a pack. I left mine about eighteen months ago.”

“Why? I’d think living in a pack would be safer.”

“It is, but when you’re a member of the pack, you don’t own yourself. The pack

owns you. I could go on about that for a long time, though, and you’ve got more

important things to learn, like how to control the change. Thing is, it’s not really

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Amanda Steiger

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something I can explain. I’ll have to show you. Once you see how it’s done, you’ll have

a better idea.”

Taylor blinked. “You mean change? Right now? In front of me?”

“That’s the idea.” He set down his coffee cup.

“Is that safe?”

“Sure.” He took off his shoes and socks, then his shirt.

Taylor’s shoulders stiffened. “What are you doing?”

“If I shift in these clothes, I’ll ruin them.” He unbuttoned his jeans.

Taylor gulped and averted his eyes. His cheeks flooded with color.

Keith’s jeans dropped to the floor, and his boxers followed a moment later. He

stood naked, facing Taylor.

Werewolves were generally pretty casual about nudity. During pack-meets,

when all pack members shifted together, no one thought anything of undressing in

front of each other. But of course, Taylor hadn’t been a werewolf very long, so he didn’t

know that. Keith wondered if he should have given him a bit more preparation.

But damn, he was cute when he blushed like that.

As he stared at Taylor’s flushed face, a jolt of tingling heat shot through him, and

he felt things tightening low in his body. He glanced down and saw his cock jutting

from the thicket of curls between his thighs, red and engorged.

Well, this was awkward.

Taylor looked up, and his gaze focused on Keith’s erection. His eyes widened

and the pupils dilated. Keith could hear the muffled, rapid thump of his heartbeat, even

from across the room, and the musky, tangy scent of arousal filled the air.

Keith’s own heartbeat quickened, but he decided it would be better not to call

attention to either his reaction or Taylor’s. “Watch me, now.” He took a deep breath.

There was no step-by-step process. He simply thought about shifting, relaxed

some mental muscle, and the change took over. Bones crackled and popped as his body

rearranged itself. Skin prickled as fur sprouted. A deep, oddly satisfying pain ripped

through him. His teeth grew long and sharp in his mouth. His hands shortened and

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Amanda Steiger

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thickened into paws as he dropped to all fours. Sounds and smells sharpened, and

colors bled away as the apartment shifted to subtle tones of gray and brown.

Taylor leapt to his feet, and the color drained from his face.

Keith shook himself like a wet dog and sat on his haunches. He wagged his tail a

few times, hoping it would put Taylor at ease.

The shift back was always easier. It happened quickly, smoothly, with relatively

little pain, though it itched like crazy. Keith’s fur pulled into his skin, his tail shrank into

his spine, and his paws stretched into human hands. He stood and slipped into his

clothes. “See?” he said, buttoning up his jeans. “Once you get the hang of it, changing

back and forth is the most natural thing in the world.”

Taylor let out a breath as the tension eased from his shoulders. “If you can

control it, does that mean you never have to change?”

“Oh, you’ll still have to change. About once a month, though it has nothing to do

with the full moon. But being able to control when you do it makes a huge difference.

It’s like going to the bathroom. You can do it at a time when it’s convenient, or you can

wait and wait and eventually, it’s just going to happen.”

“Then there’s no way to avoid becoming a wolf?”

Keith shook his head. “If you try to suppress it, you’ll just make things harder for

yourself. I know how weird and scary this seems, believe me, but shifting really isn’t so

bad.” He hesitated. “There’s one other thing I should warn you about. This is going to

be hard to hear, but it needs to be said.”

“What is it?”

“You can’t tell anyone what you are. Not your friends, not your girlfriend, not

even your family. It’s too risky. No matter how well you know someone, there’s no

telling how they’ll react.”

Taylor shrugged. “I don’t have a girlfriend, and I’m an only child. My mom’s

been dead since I was little, and I haven’t spoken to my dad for years. As for the few

friends I had, they stopped talking to me after I was bitten, like they sensed something

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unnatural about me. Who am I going to tell?” He smiled, a tight, strained expression.

“Guess I’ve got it easy. I’ve already isolated myself.”

“You don’t have to stay isolated. Werewolves can still have jobs, friends --”

“They just can’t get too close to anyone, right?”

“Not humans. No.”

“You told someone once,” Taylor said quietly, “didn’t you?”

Keith’s heartbeat quickened. Damn, was he that transparent or was Taylor just

that perceptive? He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Yeah.”

“Who was it?”

“A lover. I’d rather not go into detail.”

The silence stood between them like a wall.

“I’m sorry,” Taylor said at last. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my

business.”

“It’s okay.” Keith forced a smile. He glanced at the clock. “It’s late. You can

spend the night, if you want.”

“I hate imposing on your hospitality like this, but I have nowhere else to go.” He

sank to the couch, sighed, and ran his fingers through his wavy, damp brown hair. “I’ve

let my life fall apart.”

Keith sat next to him. “Becoming a werewolf is a pretty big adjustment.”

Taylor looked at him, and there was a strange longing in his eyes. “I don’t want

to be a burden.”

“You’re not. Not at all.” Keith gazed at Taylor’s lips. He had a perfect Cupid’s

bow mouth, pink and luscious. Keith wondered if those lips were as soft as they looked,

wondered what his mouth would taste like. Then he forced his gaze away. Kissing him

would be a bad idea. It wasn’t even a question of whether Taylor was gay or straight.

After what had happened with Matt…

His chest tightened at the thought. He wouldn’t, couldn’t let that happen again.

Even so, Keith’s fingers itched to touch that smooth face, that soft brown hair. He kept

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his hands planted firmly on the couch as he watched Taylor from the corner of his eye.

“Taylor, listen, I…”

Taylor gasped.

Keith’s head jerked toward him in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

Taylor’s eyes squeezed shut. His fingers clenched tight on the arm of the couch.

His nails grew into claws and punched through the upholstery. He yanked his hand

back and curled his hands into fists, hiding his claws. He trembled, beads of sweat

welling on his brow, eyes still scrunched shut. When he uncurled his fingers, the claws

had shrunk back to human fingernails. Blood welled from punctures in his palms. He

glanced down at the rips in the upholstery. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean --”

“Never mind the couch. When was the last time you shifted?”

“Almost four weeks ago.” Taylor’s face was pale and drawn, his eyes wide. “It’s

going to happen tonight, isn’t it? I can’t stop it.”

“I can coach you through it. The most important thing is to stay relaxed. If you

start to tense up or panic, you’ll just make it harder on yourself.”

“Relax? How can I possibly relax? You have to tie me up. You have to lock me in

the closet.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“But what if I hurt you?”

“You saw me when I changed. Was I a crazed monster?”

“No. But last time --”

“Last time, you weren’t prepared. You were alone, afraid, and in pain. You

lashed out at the first person you ran into because you were confused. You perceived

him as a threat. That won’t happen now, because I’m going to be here and I’ll be

guiding you every step of the way. You won’t hurt me.”

“How can you be so sure?” His breathing quickened. “If something happens, I’ll

never forgive myself. Please, Keith. Just lock me in a room until it’s over.”

“No. You’re not a rabid animal, and I won’t treat you like one.”

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“But…” Taylor gasped again, doubled over, and pressed his hands to his

stomach. “Oh, God.” He panted. Another violent spasm gripped his body.

Keith leaned closer. “Taylor, look at me.” He gripped Taylor’s face between his

hands. “Don’t fight it. Relax into it.”

“I can’t!”

“Just look at me. Focus on my eyes and my voice.”

Taylor’s nails sharpened into claws. Fur sprouted in dark patches on his hands

and neck. He cried out and clawed at his own body, as if trying to tear the fur away. His

claws ripped through his shirt and drew blood.

Keith wrapped his arms around Taylor, pinning his arms to his sides. “Let it

happen. It’ll be all right. I promise. Trust me.”

Taylor threw his head back and howled. His clothes ripped. His back arched.

Vertebrae popped and creaked and bones ground against each other, rearranging

themselves inside his body. He wrenched himself from Keith’s arms and collapsed to

the floor. Dense, shaggy fur flowed over his back and limbs. His face stretched into a

short, blunt muzzle, and for a moment, he resembled the traditional werewolf, the half-

man, half-wolf monster from horror movies. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and

he went limp.

A large wolf lay on the floor near Keith’s feet, muzzle flecked with foam and

stained with blood where sharp teeth had cut into his lips. His clothes hung from his

body in ragged shreds. Even beneath his thick fur, his ribs were visible. It was obvious

he hadn’t been taking care of his body, but even so, he was a beautiful wolf. His fur was

a deep, rich, chocolate brown, his ears and tail tipped with black.

Keith crouched beside him and removed his own clothes. He dropped to all

fours as the change rippled through him, and moments later, he stood beside Taylor in

wolf-form. Gently, he nudged the limp body with his snout.

Taylor’s eyes opened a crack. Keith woofed softly, encouraging him. Taylor

opened his mouth and let out a low, growling groan. His mouth moved, trying to shape

the sound into words.

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Don’t try to speak. We can communicate like this when we’re in wolf-form. Just think the

words you want to say.

Taylor stood slowly and looked around the room, ears flattened against his head.

Everything is gray. It looks wrong.

Don’t rely on your eyes so much, replied Keith. Use your nose and ears.

Taylor’s nostrils twitched and flared, exploring a rich world of scents hidden to

the human nose. Keith could smell it too: the potato chip crumbs behind the TV, the

mellow, warm smell of old wood, the powdery scent of plaster and dust.

How long do I stay like this? Taylor asked.

You can change back whenever you want to. He felt Taylor’s doubt. Just think about it

happening.

Taylor lowered his head and closed his yellow eyes. A minute passed. He

twitched as bones crackled and popped. His fur melted away. Moments later, a pale,

naked human form sat on the floor, a dazed look on his face. Keith shifted back to

human form as well and got dressed again for the second time that night. He tried not

to look at Taylor’s naked body. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It was nothing like before, that’s for sure. God, this is all so weird. A part of me

still thinks this is some long, crazy dream.” He glanced down at himself, as if

remembering he was naked, and flushed. One hand moved between his legs, trying to

cover his cock, drawing attention to it in the process.

Keith’s own cock stirred, and a tingling heat spread through his balls. He

ignored it, grabbed a blanket from the couch, and tossed it to Taylor.

Taylor wrapped the blanket around himself and clutched it to his chest.

“Wait here. I’ll get you some new clothes.” Keith left the room and returned with

a fresh sweatshirt and sweatpants. He turned away as Taylor dressed, then peered at

Taylor’s pale face, the dark circles under his eyes. “You could use some sleep, I think.”

“Yeah,” said Taylor. “It’s been a long day. Does this couch fold out?”

Keith shook his head. “I’ll take the couch. You can have the bed. Though it’s

more of a futon, really.”

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“Oh, no. I don’t want to impose.”

Keith found himself smiling again. He was so polite, even in the midst of what

was probably the strangest night of his life. “You’re not imposing. Hell, I sleep on the

couch half the time anyway. It’s better for my back.”

“Well, if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.” He led Taylor down a narrow hall, to the bedroom door. “Make

yourself at home. There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Top drawer on the right.”

“Thanks.” Taylor paused, looking at Keith with an unreadable expression.

Keith stared into those large eyes. Up close, he saw they weren’t just hazel, but a

mix of colors, amber-brown near the pupils, with a band of deep, pure leaf-green

around the edge. “You’ve got gorgeous eyes, you know that?” The words popped out

of his mouth before he knew what he was saying.

Taylor blinked. “Um… thank you.”

Shouldn’t have said that. Why had he said it? Stupid, stupid. Keith cleared his

throat, wondered if he should apologize, then decided to just let it go. “I’ll see you in

the morning.” He turned away and walked into the living room. He stretched out on

the couch, threw a blanket over himself, and listened as Taylor ran water from the

bathroom faucet and brushed his teeth. Keith closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he

heard soft footsteps, then the creak as Taylor closed the bedroom door. He waited a few

minutes, then reached beneath the blanket, into his pants, and wrapped a hand around

his cock.

He felt guilty, masturbating while Taylor slept in the next room, but he knew he

wouldn’t be able to sleep until he did. His cock was so rigid and swollen it almost hurt.

He always fell for guys like Taylor, guys who seemed to need something --

affection or protection, or just a place to stay. Matt, his last lover, had been like that, a

struggling student working two minimum-wage jobs between classes. He’d been living

on ramen and bologna, working his ass off just to get by. Keith hadn’t had much money

himself, even back then, but he’d helped Matt out with his tuition, let him stay at his

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place. Then one night had changed everything, and Keith’s life had come crashing

down around his ears.

That wasn’t the first time his heart -- or his dick, if you wanted to be cynical --

had gotten him into trouble, but somehow, he never learned.

He thought about Taylor’s soft, full lips, imagined them swollen with kisses,

imagined sucking and nibbling that plump lower lip like a piece of candy. He imagined

them wrapped around his cock, engulfing him in wet heat. Keith groaned. His balls

tightened as he thought about that mouth tugging, sucking him…

Keith pressed his face against the couch cushion to muffle his cry. Another few

strokes and he came into his hand. He went limp, flushed, sweaty and panting, and lay

on his side, eyes shut.

He pulled his hand from his pants and stared at the thick come dripping from his

palm. Then he grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table and wiped

his hand clean.

Keith showered briefly, changed into a fresh pair of boxers, flopped onto the

couch, and pulled the blanket over himself.

Right now, Taylor had nowhere else to go. It would be wrong, very wrong, to

take advantage of him in this situation. He ran the arguments through his head as he

tossed and turned. Still, he couldn’t stop picturing Taylor’s naked body stretched out on

a bed beneath him.

This was going to be difficult.

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Chapter Two

Keith heard footsteps and looked up as Taylor entered the kitchen, wearing one

of Keith’s T-shirts. Taylor yawned and scratched his sleep-mussed hair.

“Morning,” said Keith. He wondered if Taylor had any idea how appealing he

looked like that, all rumpled and sleepy. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great, thanks. Better than I have in ages.” He sniffed the air. “Something smells

wonderful.”

“Hope you like pancakes. They’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

In dim light the night before, Taylor’s hair simply looked brown, but the

morning sunlight brought out hints of copper, red, and gold. Keith admired his guest

from the corner of his eye, and his dick stirred in his pants. He remembered the sight of

Taylor’s naked body, his small, dark nipples. He thought about taking one between his

lips, feeling it stiffen in his mouth.

He’d made up his mind not to make any advances toward Taylor. But that didn’t

stop his treacherous brain from bombarding him with sexy images.

Keith set a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of Taylor. “There’s plenty more,

so if you want seconds, just ask.”

Taylor gobbled up his first helping and was halfway through a second stack

before he started to slow down. He scraped the last bite from the plate, leaned back in

his chair and sighed, hands over his belly. “That’s the first decent meal I’ve had in days,

maybe weeks.”

“No wonder you were hungry.” Keith cleared away the dishes and took them to

the sink.

“Let me help with those. It’s the least I can do.”

“Okay. I’ll wash, you dry. There are some towels in that drawer.”

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For a few minutes, they worked together in silence. “What do you do?” Taylor

asked. “For work, I mean.”

“Since I moved here, I’ve been working in a local zoo. Well, more of a petting

zoo, really. Goats, llamas, some geese, a pony that kids can ride, that sort of thing.

Mostly I just clean out the stalls and feed the animals. What about you?”

“I worked in a record store, back in my old town. I was there for about two years

before I got fired.” He dried off a fork, eyes downcast. “You’ve been really good to me,

but I don’t feel right about just crashing here without giving you anything in return. I

mean, I barely know you.”

“Do you have any friends you could stay with?”

Taylor shook his head.

“What about your dad? You said he was still around, right?”

“Somewhere. Even if I could find him, I doubt he’d help me. He pretty much

disowned me when he found out I was gay.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith said quietly. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how old

were you when you came out to him?”

“Fifteen.”

“Where did you go?”

Taylor chewed his lower lip. “I ended up staying with my aunt for a few years.

We were never close, though. I don’t think she’d take me in again. I mean, I’m an adult.

I’m supposed to be able to look after myself now.” He looked up and forced a smile.

“It’s okay, I’ll figure something out.”

“You can stay here until you get a place of your own.”

Taylor stared at him, his eyes guarded, unreadable. “Why are you doing all this

for me?”

“I know what it’s like to be alone in the world.” Keith dried off his wet, soapy

hands. He started to reach for Taylor, to touch his back… then pulled away. He was

close enough to smell Taylor’s skin, a warm, salty sweet smell. He wanted to bury his

face against Taylor’s throat and breathe in. Taylor’s shirt had slipped down, revealing a

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collarbone and part of one shoulder, smooth flesh begging to be kissed and nibbled.

Keith wondered if his face was as flushed as it felt. “Anyway, I’ve got to get ready for

work. Just take it easy today. Rest, watch TV, and eat as much as you want. I’ll be back

around six.”

“Is there anything I can do while you’re gone? I mean, if you want me to tidy up

or anything --”

“You’re a guest, not slave labor. I’m not going to ask you to work for me.”

“I’m eating your food, using your kitchen, wearing your clothes. I should do

something for you.” He hesitated, then touched Keith’s bare forearm, the slightest brush

of fingertips against skin. That feather-soft touch sent a jolt of sensation through him

like a lightning bolt. Keith froze, and his heart jumped. “Is there anything you want?”

“No. No, really, it’s fine.” Keith gulped. Taylor wasn’t offering that, surely.

“Once you get a job, you can chip in on the rent. If you still want to stay here, that is.

Until then, just take it easy.” He glanced at the clock. “I’ve really got to get going. We’ll

talk more later, okay?”

Taylor’s hand slipped from his arm. “Okay. See you tonight.”

Keith hurried from the kitchen. His balls were tight and full, ready to burst, and

his cock was rock-hard and painfully engorged. He wondered if he had time to jack off

in the shower before work, but even if he did, he knew it wouldn’t satisfy the gut-deep

ache of longing.

What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Keith returned shortly after six. He found Taylor on the futon, curled into a semi-

fetal position, wearing only a raggedy T-shirt and a pair of cotton boxers. For a few

minutes, Keith just watched him sleep. His long lashes cast delicate shadows on his

cheeks, and his full lips were parted. Keith’s gaze wandered down, along the lines of his

body, his narrow waist and lean legs, to his bare feet. They were long, narrow and

elegant, with high arches. And such cute toes…

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Christ, he had it bad. He was standing here waxing poetic about the guy’s feet.

And he didn’t even have a foot fetish.

Keith started to close the door, and the hinges creaked. Taylor stirred and his

eyes opened.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” said Keith. “You can go back to sleep.”

Taylor rubbed his eyes and sat up. His oversized shirt had slipped down again,

revealing that tantalizing hint of shoulder and collarbone, and his messy brown bangs

flopped down over one eye. “Keith? I thought you left for work.”

“I did. That was eight hours ago.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “I’ve been sleeping that whole time? I only meant to lie

down for a few minutes.”

“You probably needed it. When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been sleeping much lately. Not since I was bitten.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you have any idea who bit you?”

He shook his head and hugged his knees to his chest. “I was walking home from

work and this big dog -- I thought it was a dog, anyway -- jumped out at me from an

alley and bit my arm.” He rolled up his sleeve to show Keith the row of small, round

scars on his inner forearm. “Then it just ran off. I knew I should have gone to a doctor,

but I couldn’t afford it. I thought it would be okay if I just washed the bite out, but a

few weeks later, I started feeling weird. I kept having spells of dizziness and nausea,

and getting these terrible cramps, like something inside me was trying to tear its way

out. It just got worse. I thought at first it was rabies, or something, and then…” A look

of horror flashed across his face. “God, what if that guy caught it from me? I might have

infected someone else with lycanthropy.”

“It’s possible, but you don’t know who it was so there’s no way to find out.

Forget it.”

“How can you say that? How can I just forget something like that?”

“Dwelling on it and feeling lousy won’t do anyone any good.”

Taylor buried his hands in his hair. “It’s still my fault.”

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Keith sat next to Taylor. “Hey. Don’t beat yourself up. You’re a good person. I

know you would never hurt someone deliberately.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Keith hesitated, grappling with himself mentally, then decided to take a chance.

He rested a hand on Taylor’s back and rubbed gently, feeling the heat and firmness of

Taylor’s body through the thin cotton T-shirt. “The fact that you’re so worried for a man

you don’t even know just proves it. But you’ve got problems of your own to deal with

right now. Don’t eat yourself up worrying about something you can’t do anything

about. Okay?”

“Okay,” Taylor whispered. He met Keith’s gaze and tried to smile. “I didn’t even

ask you. How was your day?”

“Fine. I got bitten by a goat, but that’s pretty typical.”

Taylor let out a small laugh.

So that’s what it’s like when you laugh, thought Keith. The sound warmed him

down to his core and sent a rush of heat to his cock. His cock was really getting a

workout lately. “Anyway, I thought maybe we could go to the forest tonight and

practice changing. It’s better when there’s plenty of space to run around.”

“Tonight? But we just changed. We won’t need to for at least a few weeks,

right?”

“That’s why this is the perfect time to practice. You’ll have more control.” He

paused, looking into Taylor’s wide eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to go through that again.”

“It gets easier every time. It won’t be like last night.”

He sighed. “If you think it’s a good idea, then I’ll do it. When should we leave?”

“Soon. I just need to shower and change into some fresh clothes. I smell like

llama.”

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Chapter Three

They drove for half an hour through farmland, toward the sunset, then Keith

turned off the highway and onto a narrow dirt road. Gravel crunched under the wheels

as they drove into a forest preserve. The oaks and maples were already stripped of their

leaves, but the pines still wore their dark green coats. The road, now little more than a

hiking path, took them through a gap between the trees. Keith drove for a little longer,

until they came to a clearing.

“You’re sure it’s safe out here?”

“I’m sure. If there was anyone around, we’d hear them or smell them long before

they saw us.” Keith raised his chin, rolled his shoulders, and breathed in the rich, wild

smell of earth and trees, the musky hint of deer. “Follow me.” He strode into the forest,

Taylor close behind him.

Moonlight filtered through the leaves, forming lacy patterns of silver and gray on

the forest floor. Keith took off his shoes and socks and sank his toes into the cool,

yielding earth. He stripped off his jacket and shirt, and his jeans and boxers joined the

pile a moment later. His nipples tightened, and goose bumps rose on his arms and

chest. He turned to stare into Taylor’s wide, hazel eyes. “Take off your clothes.”

“But we’re outside! What if someone sees?”

“No one’s around. If you’re going to shift, you have to be naked. I can’t afford to

keep buying new clothes for both of us.”

Taylor took a deep breath. “Okay, okay.” He turned his back to Keith and

stripped, shoulders rigid.

“You need to relax,” said Keith. “It won’t happen if you’re tense.”

“I’d be more relaxed if we were in your apartment. Can’t we just change there?”

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Keith shook his head. “This isn’t just about learning to control the change. I want

you to know how good this can be. I want you to learn the joy of running free through

the woods. It’s a totally different experience than changing in some stuffy, cramped

room.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can do it. Not now.”

“You can. I’m going to guide you through it. Turn around.”

He hesitated, then turned. His cock was rigid, jutting out from the patch of

gingery curls below his belly. He gulped. “Sorry.”

Keith’s gaze darted to Taylor’s swollen shaft, his round balls, covered with

downy, dark hair. A gentle breeze carried a tangy, salty smell to his nose. He could

actually smell the pre-come leaking from the tip of Taylor’s cock. He imagined lapping

up that bead of liquid heat, swirling his tongue over the round, smooth head…

No, no. If he went down that mental road, there was no telling where it would

take him. He took a deep breath and pushed his desire down. “It’s okay. Close your

eyes.”

Taylor obeyed.

“Now breathe, in and out.” He watched Taylor’s chest rise and fall. “Good.

Again. In and out. Just focus on your feelings, the sensations in your body. Forget

everything else. Listen to the sounds of the night. Taste the air. Feel the energy of the

forest humming all around you, inside you. Can you feel it?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Let it move through you. You’re a part of the forest, a part of all living things

around you.” He could hear Taylor’s rapid heartbeat. He felt that pulse in his own

body, felt his own heart falling into the same rhythm, as if the barrier between their

minds and bodies had softened, letting them flow into each other. “The forest is calling

you. Can you hear it?”

Taylor’s eyes opened slowly. They were wide, unfocused. As Keith watched, a

swirl of wolf-yellow bled into the warm hazel. The yellow crept outwards from his

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pupils, devoured his irises like flame. Keith felt the beast rising up within Taylor’s

mind.

“Let it happen,” said Keith.

Taylor dropped to his hands and knees. Fur flowed over his back, down his arms

and legs. Pops and crackles filled the air as his bones rearranged themselves. Moments

later, a brown wolf stood, panting, in his place.

Unable to resist, Keith ran his fingers through that thick, silky brown fur. Taylor

looked up at him with yellow eyes. Even now, those eyes held a trace of uncertainty.

Keith smiled. “You did fine.” He smoothed the fur along Taylor’s back, and Taylor’s

mouth opened in a canine smile as he leaned into the caress.

Keith dropped to all fours and relaxed that mental muscle that held back his wolf

self. The change swept through him like a wind. Colors faded to soft, muted silvers and

grays. The rich, primal smell of damp earth and growing things filled his nostrils.

He touched noses with Taylor. Keith dipped his head, spanked the ground with

his forepaws, and he wriggled his rump like a puppy, his body language clear as words

-- Let’s play! He turned and bounded into the forest. Taylor gave an excited yip and

bounded after him.

They raced through the forest, side by side, weaving through a maze of trees,

jumping over logs. They chased rabbits and squirrels. Once, they spotted a doe drinking

from a stream. She heard their approach and bounded away, swift and graceful. They

gave chase, but the doe soon vanished into the dark forest.

When they tired of running, they returned to the stream and drank their fill of

the cold, clear water, then curled up together on a blanket of dead leaves and grass.

They rested awhile, Taylor’s head on Keith’s flank.

Taylor raised his head and thumped the ground with his tail a few times. He

nipped Keith’s neck, playfully. Keith gave a mock-growl, pounced on him and pinned

him to the ground with his weight. The feel of Taylor’s warm, furry body moving

beneath his excited him. Taylor squirmed out from under him, leapt on him and

bounced back, tail wagging. They wrestled, play-growling, each struggling to pin the

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other. Keith trapped Taylor’s body beneath his own. With his teeth, he gently gripped

the ruff of Taylor’s neck, then released him. Taylor rolled over, exposing his belly. His

pink cock stiffened and slid, glistening, from its sheath. Keith lowered his nose to

Taylor’s maleness and sniffed, smelling his arousal. His own cock tightened in

response. He licked Taylor’s fur-sheathed balls, and an odd sound, half a growl and

half a whine, rose from Taylor’s throat.

Keith’s heartbeat quickened. With the tip of his snout, he nudged Taylor’s cock,

then ran his tongue slowly along its length. Clear liquid beaded on the tip of the stiff

shaft. Keith licked away the salty drop, then opened his mouth and took the organ

between his jaws, careful not to graze it with his sharp teeth. A husky rumble of

excitement rose from his chest.

They were both aroused, and the animal part of his mind insisted that was all the

reason they should need to fuck. The human part of his mind -- now buried and dim,

but still there -- sent him a warning: He isn’t ready.

Keith took a step back. Taylor rolled onto his stomach and looked up at him, a

question in his eyes. Keith gave a soft woof, turned, and began to walk. Taylor

followed.

They made their way back to the clearing where their clothes lay in rumpled

piles. Taylor lowered his head and closed his eyes. A moment later, his fur began

pulling back into his body.

Keith had watched other wolves change back and forth countless times, but he

never got used to the strangeness of it. Changing was one thing. Watching someone else

change was a different matter, and some part of his brain always insisted he was seeing

a special effect, a CGI trick on a screen. He watched as Taylor’s limbs contorted and

thickened into human arms and legs. He listened to the grinding pop and crunch of

bones, the weird, wet sound as Taylor’s skin sucked up the last of his fur, leaving him

pale, naked, and human again.

Taylor opened hazel eyes. For a moment, he looked around the forest, his face

dazed. He took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh.

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Keith shifted back to human form and tossed Taylor his clothes. “Here.”

They dressed. “That was incredible,” said Taylor.

“See? I told you it would be easier this time.”

“You were right.”

They walked back to the car. Keith heard a low gurgle and glanced at Taylor,

who winced and pressed a hand to his stomach. “Hungry?”

“Yeah. Starved, actually.”

“We’ll get some burgers on the way back.” Keith drove out of the forest and onto

the main road. They stopped at the first fast food restaurant they came to. Keith pulled

into the drive-through and leaned out the window, toward the speaker. “Six double-

decker cheeseburgers and a twelve pack of chicken fingers, please.”

“Nineteen twenty-nine. Pull up to the window,” a voice replied.

“Do you really think we’ll be able to eat all that?” Taylor asked.

“Easily. And I’ve got some hamburger back at my place if you’re still hungry

afterwards.”

“There’s no way I’m going to be hungry after three cheeseburgers.”

“Don’t be so sure. Your metabolism is different now.” He paid at the window,

and a bored-looking girl handed them two greasy paper bags. Keith fished out a

cheeseburger, wrapped in red foil, and tossed it to Taylor. “Eat up. Not as satisfying as

a fresh, bloody kill, but meat is meat.”

By the time they pulled into the parking lot of Keith’s apartment building, the

contents of the two bags were almost gone. Taylor burped and clapped a hand over his

mouth. “Excuse me,” he muttered.

Keith grinned. Then he looked out the car window and felt the smile fading from

his face. A dark-haired girl leaned against the brick wall of his apartment building,

arms crossed over her chest. She wore a long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of faded

black jeans.

“What’s wrong?” asked Taylor. “Is that someone you know?”

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“She’s from my old pack.” Keith’s mind raced. He’d asked Rachael not to contact

him after he’d left, for her own safety as much as his. What was she doing here, now?

He opened the car door. “Wait here. I’m going to see what this is about.” He got out of

the car and walked across the parking lot.

Rachael looked just as he remembered. Shoulder-length, straight dark hair

framed a pale face with full, red lips. Round, dark shades hid her eyes. His nose

wrinkled as he approached. She reeked of perfume, something flowery and artificial, as

if she’d bathed in it. Odd. Rachael never wore perfume.

“Rachael, what are you doing here?”

“What, no ‘hello’?”

“Sorry, but after all this time, seeing you suddenly turn up here is a little jarring.

What’s going on?”

“I came to warn you. Lucas is coming. Here. To this town.”

Keith’s breath hissed between his teeth. “Shit. When?”

“I don’t know. Soon. For all I know, he’s already on his way.”

“Just him?”

“He just took Brad and Tony with him. The rest of the pack is still in Colorado.”

“So you came all this way to warn me?”

“Well, someone had to. I still owe you, anyway.”

Keith’s mind whirled. How had Lucas found him? He’d covered all his tracks.

“Be careful, Rachael. If he finds out --”

“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I’m drenched in this stinky perfume? I don’t

want him catching my scent. But the thing is, I’m not going back.”

“You’re leaving the pack?”

She nodded. “I’ve been wanting to do it for some time. I figured as long as I was

coming here, I might as well kill two rabbits with one bite. I’m tired of living under that

psychotic bully’s thumb.”

“Where will you go?”

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“Actually, that’s another reason I came to find you. I wondered if… well, if you

wanted to start a pack.” Rachael smiled. She looked suddenly much younger, awkward

and shy. “So what do you think? We’d be the alpha male and female by default.”

Keith shook his head. “You know I don’t swing that way. The alpha male and

female are supposed to be mates.”

“Who says? We can bend the rules.”

“Listen, if I wanted to start a pack, you’d be my first choice as alpha female, but

I’m not a leader. I do okay on my own.”

She sighed. “All right. I’ll start looking around, then.”

“And watch out for Lucas.”

“I will. Thanks.”

She peered over his shoulder at Taylor, still waiting in the car. “Who’s that?”

“Just a friend.”

Rachael nodded and didn’t ask any more questions. She could take a hint. “See

you around, Keith.” She turned and walked away.

He watched her go, then walked back to the car. Taylor looked up at his

approach, opened the door and got out. “What was that about?”

“My ex-boss is coming to town,” said Keith.

“You mean…”

“Lucas, alpha werewolf and an all-around vindictive asshole.”

“He’s coming to bring you back?”

“If he finds me, he won’t bother trying to bring me back. He’ll kill me, take my

head, and wave it around in front of everyone to show them what happens when

someone disobeys him.”

Taylor’s eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”

Keith nodded.

“But that’s murder! How can he do that?”

“The alpha is the pack law. He can do whatever he wants.”

“But the police --”

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“I’m a stray. A drifter, a nobody. No one will notice my disappearance, and

Lucas is smart enough to tie up all the loose ends.”

Taylor’s face had gone chalk-white. “Has he killed people before?”

“He killed the old alpha and two challengers, and he’s executed a couple of other

werewolves who crossed him. The first time I tried to run, he brought me back and beat

the shit out of me. The thing about werewolves is, we heal fast and it takes a lot to scar

us, so the alpha can mete out punishments without worrying about leaving evidence.

Afterwards, he told me that if I ever tried it again, he’d kill me. I don’t think he was

bluffing.”

“Jesus,” whispered Taylor. “You make this pack sound like the Mafia. Would he

kill me too?”

Keith shook his head. “He’s got no reason to hurt you. He’d probably take you

back with him, make you part of the pack.”

“I wouldn’t let him.”

Keith hesitated. “Taylor… if worst comes to worst, and I’m killed, don’t try to

fight Lucas. If you fight him, he will kill you. Promise me --”

“No.” His jaw tightened. “I’m not going to live at the mercy of an abusive bully.

I’ve done it before, and I won’t do it again. I’ll die first.”

Keith hesitated. “All right,” he said quietly. “I just want you to understand the

risk. Being with me is dangerous right now.”

“I don’t care. I want to stay with you.”

Keith stared into Taylor’s eyes. He looked at that mouth, that full lower lip,

trembling ever so slightly. He leaned closer, eyes focused on that mouth. Before he

could stop himself, his lips were pressed against Taylor’s. He heard the soft intake of

breath. Taylor’s lips tensed beneath his, and for a moment, Keith thought he was going

to pull away. Then his lips softened and parted, and Keith’s tongue slid into his mouth.

He tasted clean and sweet, like springtime and cool, clear rain. Keith’s teeth grazed that

soft lower lip. He pulled it into his mouth, sucked it, then trailed kisses down the line of

Taylor’s jaw, over his throat, to the pulse jumping just under the surface. He pressed his

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lips to that vulnerable spot, touched it with the tip of his tongue, tasting warm, salty

skin. Taylor’s pulse beat harder. He leaned back against the car, breathing hard. Keith

could feel the tension in his shoulders, his neck. He pulled back and looked into

Taylor’s eyes, gauging his reaction. Taylor stared back, looking stunned.

Keith cleared his throat. “You, uh… you want to go inside?”

“Yeah,” Taylor murmured. “Sure.”

They walked in silence across the parking lot, into the building, then up the stairs

to Keith’s floor.

Keith watched Taylor from the corner of his eye, wondering if he’d made a big

mistake. Seemed like Taylor intended to stay. That was a good sign… but then, what

choice did he have? Keith was the only person who knew what he was, the only person

who could help him. He couldn’t reject Keith’s advances even if he wanted to.

They reached the door to Keith’s apartment and went inside. Keith shut the door

and turned to face him. “Listen, I shouldn’t have done that. It won’t happen again.”

Taylor’s expression was unreadable, but Keith could see the tension in his

shoulders and back. “You don’t want me?”

“It’s not that. I want you very much. But I don’t want to pressure you into doing

anything you don’t want to.”

“What if I want to?” He took a step toward Keith, closing the distance between

them, and placed a hand on his chest. The tip of his pink tongue crept out to moisten his

lips. Keith could see the pulse in his throat, could smell sweat and adrenaline.

Keith’s cock was hard and aching. He wanted to grab Taylor, push that slender

body up against the wall, and kiss him hard. But a memory flashed through his mind:

Matt’s face staring at him in shocked horror, his mouth open in a silent scream. He

hadn’t had sex with anyone since that night. What if it happened again?

Taylor pressed up against him, rubbing his body against Keith’s. Keith froze,

shocked, as Taylor’s hand slipped down to cup his groin. Keith’s thoughts scattered as

that warm palm rubbed his swollen cock. A low groan rose up from his throat. Taylor

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rested his cheek against Keith’s pounding heart. He wet his lips again. Long, deft

fingers undid the buckle of Keith’s belt.

Keith closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. Then

Taylor undid the buttons of his jeans and slipped a hand inside. “You’ve been so good

to me. Let me do something for you.” Fingertips brushed Keith’s dick through his thin,

cotton boxers. Keith groaned again, helpless, and grabbed a handful of Taylor’s hair.

His rigid, swollen cock jerked up and down. Taylor’s hand started to slide beneath the

waistband of his boxers.

Keith grabbed his wrist. “Taylor, wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t have to do anything for me. I didn’t help you because I expected

something in return.”

Taylor was silent a moment, his eyes searching Keith’s face. “Then why?”

“People don’t always need a reason to help each other.” Though it took all his

willpower, he buttoned his jeans over his straining erection. “I want you to understand

that. You don’t owe me anything, and I won’t take advantage of you.”

“But if we both want it --”

“I just want to be sure I’m not going to do something that will make you feel

used later on.”

Taylor looked into his eyes. “There’s another reason. Isn’t there?”

Keith’s chest tightened. He looked away. “Yes.” He took a deep breath. “I told

you about Matt, my lover?”

“The man who left you after you told him what you were?”

“I didn’t tell him. He saw me transform.” Keith’s throat knotted up. He

swallowed. “There’s a reason werewolves don’t usually take human lovers.

Sometimes…” His voice wavered. “Sometimes during sex, at the moment of climax, we

can shift forms without meaning to. I knew it was possible, but I was sure it wouldn’t

happen to me. I thought I had more control than that. I was wrong.”

Silence. Then Taylor asked, very quietly, “You changed?”

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Keith nodded. “I’ll never forget his scream. It went through me like a knife. I

tried to explain it to him later, but he wouldn’t listen. He had a mental breakdown and

killed himself a few days later.”

“God. I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered. “If I’d known…”

“Not your fault.” Keith tried to smile.

Taylor hugged him. Keith hugged him back and buried his face in Taylor’s soft

brown hair. They held each other in silence for a few minutes. Keith took a deep breath,

calming himself, and pulled back. “This apartment isn’t the safest place to be anymore. I

don’t know if Lucas actually knows my address, but if he’s coming to town, it’s only a

matter of time before he finds me.”

“You think we should leave?”

Keith hesitated. “I don’t want to drag you halfway across the country with me.

But then, that’s the life of a stray. Moving constantly, working minimum wage jobs,

always on the run, always hiding. You should think long and hard about whether you

really want that sort of life. I’d like the company, don’t get me wrong, but maybe you’d

be better off in a real pack.”

“If packs are so much better, why’d you leave yours?”

Touché.” Keith wondered if Taylor really would be any better off in a pack. Rank

was everything there. You had to be tough and mean to achieve a high rank. You had to

beat people up.

Keith had beaten a few people up. They’d attacked him first, but still, he’d made

damned sure they wouldn’t attack him again. He wondered if Taylor had it in him to be

that mean. “I think we should get some sleep,” said Keith. “We’re not going anywhere

tonight. It’s almost one o’clock. We can decide what to do in the morning.”

“What if they come here tonight?”

“I doubt Lucas will break into my apartment. He’s more careful than that. He’d

try to take me out someplace where there wouldn’t be any witnesses. For tonight, at

least, I think we’re safe.” He prayed he was telling the truth.

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Chapter Four

Keith sprawled on the couch, a threadbare blanket draped over him. Just as he

was drifting off, he heard a cry from the bedroom and sat up, heart thumping. Taylor.

Keith leapt to his feet and ran into the bedroom.

Taylor lay in bed, tangled in sheets. Sweat glistened on his brow. He cried out

again.

“Taylor.” Keith gripped his shoulder. “Taylor, wake up.”

Taylor’s eyes snapped open. He stared at Keith, panting.

Keith sat on the edge of the bed. “Bad dream?”

“Yeah.” He sat up and hugged his knees to his chest.

“Want to talk about it?”

He hesitated. “I dreamed I was a wolf, running after a deer in the forest. I leapt

on it, tore its throat out, and started to eat it. Then I realized it wasn’t a deer at all. It was

a girl. I was eating a human being.” He hugged himself. “I’m afraid of myself, Keith. I

don’t want to be a killer.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not a bloodthirsty monster.

You’re the same person you were before you became a werewolf.”

“I wish I could be so sure.” Taylor forced a smile, though his face was pale. “I’m

being too dramatic about this, I know. It was just a dream. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Nah, I wasn’t asleep. You want to watch some TV with me? Might take your

mind off it.”

“No thanks.” He hesitated. “Keith, will you… stay here? With me?”

Keith studied his face, wondered if he was misunderstanding. “You want me to

share the bed with you?”

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“If it’s all right. I’d rather not be alone right now.” Color crept into his cheeks.

“It’s not sexual. I don’t expect you to believe me, but it really isn’t. Right now, I just

want to be close to you.”

“Sure.” He rubbed Taylor’s back. Taylor nuzzled against him like a kitten, and

Keith’s cock strained against his boxers. Lie down, he told it. As usual, it ignored his

command. He wondered if Taylor had any idea what he was doing to him.

Keith climbed into the bed, and Taylor curled up with his back to him. The futon

wasn’t quite large enough for two people to lie comfortably without touching each

other. Every time Keith moved, some part of him brushed against Taylor. He rolled

onto his side, so they lay back to back, but even then, he could hear Taylor’s soft

breathing, smell his skin, his hair. His rigid cock throbbed.

Taylor rolled over so his front was pressed against Keith’s back. He wasn’t hard.

He’d told the truth. All he’d really wanted was to sleep next to someone, to have

another warm body close to his, to know he wasn’t alone. It made Keith feel guilty

about his own hard-on.

Taylor nuzzled against him, like a puppy seeking comfort from its mother, and

pressed his face against Keith’s back. “I lied to you,” he murmured.

“About what?”

“I said that when my father kicked me out, I went to live with my aunt, but I

never had an aunt. I went to live with a man I knew, because I had nowhere else to go.

He let me stay, but in exchange…” He gulped. “It’s not like we were lovers. I’d be

kidding myself to use that word. I was his whore. He didn’t give a shit about me. I let

him use me because I felt like I didn’t have a choice… and maybe, because I believed I

didn’t deserve any better. When my father first found out what I was, he said I was

dirty, that I was an abomination, and deep inside, I think I believed him. Maybe he was

right. Why else would I have let someone…”

“Shhh.” Keith rolled over, wrapped his arms around him, and held him tight.

“You’re not dirty, Taylor.”

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Taylor hid his face against Keith’s chest. He clung to him, fingers clutching at his

shoulders. “You don’t think it’s disgusting, that I let him use me like that?”

“That man who took advantage of you. He’s the one who should be ashamed.

It’s not your fault. You were young and alone. You had nowhere else to turn.” He

kissed Taylor’s cheek and smoothed his hair.

Taylor let out a small, hitching sob that hurt Keith’s heart. “I’m sorry… I…”

“It’s okay.” Keith’s arms tightened around Taylor’s body. “You can cry if you

need to.”

“Men don’t cry,” murmured Taylor, his face still hidden against Keith’s chest.

“Who told you that?”

“My dad.”

“He’s full of shit.”

Taylor let out a small, shaky laugh. Then he began to cry. He made almost no

sound, but his body shuddered with the force of his sobs. Keith held him and

murmured softly into Taylor’s ear, telling him to let it out, let it go, telling him it was

okay, and Taylor pressed against him and clung to him as if he were the last solid thing

in the world. Keith waited until his sobs trailed off into whimpers, then silence.

Taylor lay quietly in his arms for a few minutes, then raised his head. His tears

soaked the front of Keith’s shirt. “Sorry. I…”

Keith touched a finger to his lips. “Don’t apologize.”

A flush rose into Taylor’s cheeks. “I can’t remember the last time I cried in front

of someone,” he murmured.

Keith handed Taylor a box of tissues from the dresser. Taylor took one and blew

his nose. “Is there anything else you need?” asked Keith.

“Just stay here with me.”

“I will.” Keith slid a hand over Taylor’s, and Taylor gripped it as if it were a

lifeline.

For a few minutes, they lay together in silence, Taylor’s head on Keith’s

shoulder. Feeling his warmth, breathing in his scent, Keith felt his dick stiffening again.

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His heartbeat quickened, and he struggled to control his breathing. Taylor touched his

thigh, and he gave a start. “You’re flushed,” Taylor said quietly.

“It’s a little warm in here, that’s all.”

“How long are we going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“You know what I mean.”

You mean pretending we don’t want to have sex? thought Keith, but he didn’t say it.

He knew better. Keith forced a smile. “I’m too tired to even think about that right now.

Let’s just get some sleep, okay?”

Taylor sighed. “Okay.” A pause. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be right back.”

He got up and left the room.

Keith lay in bed, arms folded behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. He

listened to the soft hiss of the shower and tried not to visualize Taylor soaping himself

up as rivulets of water ran down his slim, firm body.

The shower shut off. A few minutes later, Taylor returned to the bedroom, his

skin still flushed and pink from the heat, wearing nothing but his boxers. He slid under

the covers. Though they weren’t touching, Keith could feel the heat of his body.

“‘Night,” Keith murmured, and flopped over onto his side, facing the wall. His

heart pounded. He closed his eyes and tried to relax.

Taylor touched his shoulder. “You’re tense.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ll never get to sleep like this. Let me at least try to relax you. Roll onto your

stomach.”

Keith hesitated, then rolled over, and Taylor straddled him. Slender, surprisingly

strong hands kneaded his shoulders, thumbs pressing into the tense muscles of his

neck. A tiny groan escaped Keith’s throat. He felt his muscles relaxing, like knots

unwinding beneath Taylor’s touch. Taylor’s hands slid down to the small of his back.

His fingers traced the ragged, puckered scar just above Keith’s buttocks. “Where did

you get this?”

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“A fight.”

“With who?”

“Brad. One of Lucas’s bully-boys. He tried to rape someone. I lost the fight, but

she managed to get away while he was distracted.”

“You said werewolves couldn’t scar.”

“It takes a lot to scar us. I had other wounds. That was just the deepest. He tore a

pretty big piece out of me.”

“I’m sorry. Was he punished?”

“No.” He clenched his teeth. “Brad is Lucas’s second-in-command. He’s not too

smart, but he’s strong and fast, the muscle behind Lucas’s brains. And he thinks with

his dick. Once, he raped a human girl and Lucas mauled him for it. Not because he

really gave a shit, but because the pack couldn’t afford that kind of heat. After that,

Brad stayed away from humans, but he still gets his pick of anyone in the pack

whenever he has the urge.” He stared at the wall. “That’s what it’s like when a

sociopath like Lucas is leading your pack. You’re at the mercy of every higher-ranking

member.”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” said Taylor. “You’re tensing up again.”

Keith took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t let it get to me.”

“You’ve said there’s more than one pack. Are all the alphas like Lucas? I mean…

is it normal, the way he does things?”

“He’s worse than some, but he’s not unusual. You can only become alpha by

killing the old leader, so alphas tend to be the toughest, meanest wolves in the pack.

There are kind, wise ones too, but they’re the exception. It’s hard to be kind and wise

and still hold a pack together by force.”

“Nice guys finish last, huh?”

“Worse than that. In the pack, they’re everyone’s meat.” His eyes sank shut as

Taylor kneaded the sore muscles of his back. “You’re good at that,” he murmured.

“Thank you.” He worked his way down to Keith’s ass and paused.

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Keith’s dick stiffened. He tried to think of un-sexy things -- math equations,

road-kill, cat vomit -- but it was no use. Taylor shifted, and Keith felt something hard

and hot pressing against the small of his back.

Taylor leaned closer, and warm breath tickled Keith’s ear. “I can do more, if

you’ll let me.”

Keith swallowed, hard. He rolled over onto his back so he could look Taylor in

the eye. It didn’t help much, since Taylor’s erection was now pressing against his

stomach. “Taylor, we’ve talked about this. I don’t --”

“I want to make you feel good.” Taylor leaned down until his face hovered a few

inches above Keith’s. His pupils were dilated, his breathing heavy. “Please,” he

whispered. His lips brushed Keith’s. Keith felt the scrape of stubble, the tickle of hair on

his cheek.

He couldn’t resist. He kissed Taylor. His lips were living velvet, warm and soft.

Keith pressed his mouth to them, almost crushing those soft lips. Keith’s mouth moved

against Taylor’s, hungrily, as if he would eat him from the lips down. The taste was

sweet, addictive. He slid his tongue into Taylor’s mouth and tasted the hot copper of

blood -- one of his teeth had cut the inside of his lip.

Keith pulled back. “You okay?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Yes. Don’t stop.”

Keith’s hands slid down Taylor’s back, over warm, firm flesh. He leaned upward

and kissed him again, more gently. It was hard to be gentle. He wanted to claim

Taylor’s mouth with his, to bite those soft lips, to force his tongue between them. He

couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted anything so bad. His dick throbbed, rock-

hard and aching. His hands came to rest on those slim hips as his tongue stroked the

inside of that hot, wet mouth. He pulled back just enough to catch his breath and

whispered, “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay. But if you want to stop, just tell me.” He nuzzled Taylor’s throat. That

warm, sweet scent filled his nose. He could feel Taylor’s pulse drumming, the blood

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running hot and fast in the big vein. That pulse was so close, so hot. He could almost

taste it, almost roll it around in his mouth like a piece of hard candy. He felt it in his

own chest, his own veins. He pressed a kiss to Taylor’s throat, licked his skin, tasted

salt. Taylor moaned and writhed atop him. His hips ground against Keith’s, pressing

his dick harder against Keith’s stomach.

Keith’s breathing grew heavier, rougher. He rolled over, onto Taylor, and

trapped the warm, writhing body beneath his. His knee nudged those slim thighs apart

and rubbed the full, heavy balls between them. Taylor’s erection strained against his

boxers. A small, wet spot had soaked through the thin cotton where pre-come had

leaked from the tip of his cock. Keith placed a hand over that hard bulge. His own

heartbeat pounded in his ears. The smell of Taylor’s skin, his sweat, the electric tang of

his arousal, all mingled together in Keith’s nose. He drank in that scent. He wanted to

roll in it, to wrap himself in it. “Sometimes I get rough,” he whispered. His voice

emerged deep and hoarse, like a growl. “I’ll try to control myself, but…”

“It’s okay.”

Keith stroked Taylor’s cheek with his fingertips, feeling the light fuzz of a day-

old beard. His thumb brushed the hot, silky fullness of Taylor’s lower lip, then pressed

against it. Taylor moaned, and Keith pushed his thumb into the wet heat of his mouth.

Taylor wrapped his lips around Keith’s thumb and sucked. The gentle tugging motion

of his mouth almost undid Keith.

He took a deep breath and withdrew his thumb. “Listen… I…” It was a struggle

to find words. His mind fumbled. He closed his eyes, trying to regain some measure of

control. “Sex is different with werewolves. I’ve told you what can happen. I just…” He

gulped. “I want you to understand the risks. I’ll try to control myself, but I don’t know

if I’ll be able to.”

“I understand.”

Keith prayed he wasn’t making a mistake. His hands slid down to cup Taylor’s

ass and squeezed. The cheeks were firm and tight. They fit his palms perfectly. His

mouth found Taylor’s again and kissed him, hard and deep. Taylor’s body pressed

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against his, and Keith could feel the hard buds of his nipples pushing against his chest.

He stroked one with his thumb, then lowered his head. His lips brushed against the taut

nub, then closed around it. He laved it with his tongue and felt a shiver run through

Taylor’s body. A soft rumble, halfway between a purr and a growl, rose up from his

chest. Keith’s tongue traced a slow, wet circle around one nipple, then the other. “You

like that?” he whispered. His voice emerged low and hoarse.

“Oh yes.”

His mouth moved to Taylor’s throat. His tongue flicked against that racing pulse

again, then he took it between his teeth and gently squeezed. One hand slipped beneath

the waistband of Taylor’s boxers. His fingers found the slight roughness of Taylor’s

balls and cupped them. They were full, heavy, and tight in his palm. He massaged them

carefully, rolling them across his palm. One finger slipped behind them and pressed

against the spot between Taylor’s balls and anus. Taylor’s body arched upward. His

arms tightened around Keith’s waist, and a small whimper escaped his throat. Hot

hunger shot through Keith. His own cock was swollen with blood and need, his balls

full and tight. He felt his teeth growing sharp in his mouth as his control slipped, felt

the tickle of hair sprouting from his back.

He closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He fought the

change, pushed the beast back inside him. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he trembled

with the effort, but the beast retreated, curled up reluctantly in the dark cave of his

subconscious. Keith’s eyes opened.

“Keith? Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. His hand slid out of Taylor’s boxers and rubbed his cock

through the thin cotton.

Taylor gasped and pushed against his hand. “Oh, Keith… feels so good…”

Keith tugged Taylor’s boxers down, exposing him. His cock was engorged,

flushed a dark rosy color, the head so deep a red it was almost purple. A bead of clear

pre-come clung to the slit. Keith licked his lips. “Ready?” he whispered.

Panting, Taylor rolled over onto his stomach.

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“No. Stay on your back.”

He stared up at Keith with puzzled eyes. “Don’t you want --”

“Shhh.” Keith kissed him again, then ran his hands over Taylor’s smooth chest.

His thumbs circled the tiny, dark, pebble-hard nipples. His mouth engulfed one and

sucked it. One hand slid further down to rest against Taylor’s thigh as Keith trailed

kisses over his chest, his collarbone, his neck.

He had never wanted to fuck anyone so badly. He hungered to push Taylor

down on his stomach, bury his cock in that tight little ass, pump in and out of him,

come inside his body. He knew Taylor would let him, welcome it, even. But something

held him back. Taylor was just as turned on as he was, but even so, Keith knew that if

he fucked him now, he’d have no restraint. It would be fast, rough. Keith didn’t want

their first time to be like that.

“Keith?” Taylor whispered. He wet his lips. “What should I do? What would you

like?”

“Just relax,” he said. His hand wrapped around Taylor’s cock and moved up and

down in sure, steady strokes. His other hand cupped Taylor’s balls. He massaged them

with his thumb, gently, as he lowered his head, eyes focused on that swollen cock. He

let his cheek brush against it. Then he opened his mouth.

His tongue slid across the head of Taylor’s cock, slow and smooth. Taylor

gasped. Clear fluid welled up and dripped down. Keith lapped his cock again, tasting

the salt of pre-come. He opened his mouth wider and closed it around the hard, hot

flesh, engulfing the first few inches.

Taylor’s hips arched upward, pushing his cock deeper into Keith’s mouth.

Keith’s throat constricted instinctively, but he didn’t pull back. Matt had been slightly

bigger than Taylor, and Keith had deep-throated him more than once. It was always a

little uncomfortable at first, but he adjusted quickly. Slowly, he slid his lips up and

down the length of Taylor’s cock, taking him in all the way up to the base, then sliding

back.

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“Oh, wow,” Taylor breathed. His eyes were wide, dazed. He looked as though

he’d been struck blind. “Oh, God. Oh.”

Keith’s hand slipped further back, into the warm, dry cleft of Taylor’s ass. He

brushed a finger against Taylor’s asshole. Taylor’s hips twitched upward in surprise,

then he relaxed, allowing Keith to press his finger more firmly against the tight,

puckered opening.

Taylor panted. His body glistened with a sheen of sweat. His fingers dug into the

sheets. “Please,” he gasped. “Please, I need it.”

With his mouth still wrapped around Taylor’s cock, Keith stared into his eyes

and slowly, carefully pushed his middle finger into his ass. It was hot and tight.

Incredibly tight. The ring of muscle clenched around his finger, then relaxed slightly,

allowing him to push deeper.

“Oh… fuck…” Taylor’s hips arched upward again. His fingers clenched tight on

the sheets as Keith pushed another finger into his body and pressed the sensitive node

inside him. Taylor cried out.

Hot come spurted down Keith’s throat. He swallowed it all, pulled back, and slid

his fingers out of Taylor’s body.

Taylor lay flushed and sweat-drenched, gasping for breath, his eyes still wide

and dazed. After a few minutes, they focused on Keith. “That was… I…” He trailed off.

For a moment, he seemed to be struggling to speak. “Thank you,” he whispered at last.

His eyes were wet. He looked away. “Sorry,” he murmured, and wiped his eyes with

the back of one hand.

Keith leaned closer. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No. It’s not that. It’s just… no one ever gave a damn whether I enjoyed it or

not.”

Keith pulled Taylor into his arms and smoothed his hair. He pressed a kiss to his

sweat-dampened forehead. Taylor’s hand moved down to Keith’s hard, aching cock,

but Keith gripped his wrist gently. “Not right now. Right now, I just want to hold you.”

“But…”

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Keith silenced him with a kiss, then nuzzled Taylor’s cheek and held him tighter.

For a few minutes, they remained like that, silent and still, wrapped in each other’s

arms. Keith waited, and eventually, his desire ebbed. His cock was still half-erect, but

no longer throbbing for release.

“Thank you,” Taylor whispered again.

Words rose into Keith’s throat, but he swallowed them. It was too soon. “You’re

welcome,” he said instead. He stroked Taylor’s hair. “I think we’re going to need

another shower.”

Taylor chuckled softly. Then he said, “Can we just lie here another few

minutes?”

“Sure.” His arms tightened around Taylor’s body. “As long as you want.”

Taylor pressed his cheek to Keith’s heart. “I used to dream about meeting

someone like you,” he murmured. “Late at night, when I was almost asleep, I’d dream

about finding someone who would just hold me like this, someone who would make

me feel like life was worthwhile, like I was worthwhile. But I never really believed it

was possible. I thought most men were like Nate -- the guy I went to live with after my

father kicked me out. And he was like my father in a lot of ways. I never realized how

much like him, until now. I think he hated what he was, and he hated me because I

reminded him of it. He treated me like dirt. But I guess I thought that was normal, at the

time. Maybe a part of me even thought I secretly needed that pain, that degradation. I

never imagined it could be like this. I think I’ve been looking for you my whole life, but

I never dared to really believe…” He trailed off.

Keith just held him. He couldn’t speak. His throat had tightened, cutting off his

voice.

“Sorry,” said Taylor, “I barely know what I’m saying.”

“No. It’s okay. It just makes me really angry that you were treated like that. It

makes me want to find this guy and --”

“Don’t. It doesn’t matter now. I just want to forget about him. I never want to go

back to that life.”

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“You won’t ever have to. I promise. You’re with me now. You’re my pack, the

only pack that matters. We’ll look after each other.”

Taylor smiled. “So far, it’s been mostly you looking after me. I haven’t done

much for you.”

Keith held Taylor’s head against his shoulder. “You’ve done more for me than

you’ll ever know.” His fingers combed through that soft, shaggy brown hair.

“Can we shower together?” Taylor asked.

Keith nodded.

They went into the bathroom. Keith stripped off his boxers and turned on the

water. When it was hot enough, they stepped into the stall together. Keith pulled

Taylor’s back against his front. The sensation of wet skin sliding against wet skin sent a

small, hot thrill of pleasure through him. He grabbed the soap, rubbed it between his

palms until he’d worked up a lather, and gently washed Taylor with his hands. He

spread the thick, creamy lather over his chest, rubbed it gently onto his cock and balls,

worked it into the cleft of his ass. By the time he finished washing Taylor, Keith was

hard again.

Taylor took the soap from him, lathered up his hands, and wrapped his slippery

fingers around Keith’s dick. Keith’s knees went weak, and he leaned against the stall

wall. “Let me please you,” Taylor whispered into his ear. His fingers slid deftly up and

down the length of Keith’s cock. Keith moaned. “Just tell me what you want, what you

need,” said Taylor. “Anything, just ask.”

“This. Don’t stop.” His hips moved in time with Taylor’s strokes.

Taylor traced a vein on the underside of Keith’s cock, then ran his thumb over

the shiny, bulbous head, teasing the sensitive slit at its tip. Though Keith hadn’t thought

it possible, his dick grew even harder, swelling until he groaned in mingled pleasure

and pain. His balls throbbed, achingly full and tight. God, he needed to come right now

or he was going to explode.

Taylor smiled, ran his tongue over his full, pink lips, then knelt and wrapped

that moist mouth around Keith’s dick. His tongue swirled over the head as his lips

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tugged in a gentle, skilled rhythm. Keith groaned. The sight of Taylor on his knees in

front of him, those soft lips wrapped around the girth of his red, engorged cock, sent a

jolt of heat through his body. Taylor cupped his full balls with one palm as his mouth

engulfed another inch of Keith’s shaft, then another, pulling him deep until he felt the

head butt against the back of Taylor’s throat, and those lips were wrapped around the

base of the shaft, close to his balls. Taylor’s eyes were closed, his wet hair plastered to

his face as water cascaded down his back and chest, and his mouth was a hot, wet

cavern, his tongue caressing, stroking, sliding across hard, needy flesh.

Then he pulled back, leaving Keith’s dick throbbing and swollen, his balls so full

it seemed they’d burst.

Keith groaned. “Taylor…”

Taylor got on his hands and knees, presenting his ass. With both hands, he

spread the cheeks, revealing the dimple of his asshole, just above his round, dark balls.

The sight almost undid Keith.

He couldn’t resist. Fumbling, he spread soap lather over his dick, then gripped

Taylor’s hips and positioned himself.

The rational part of his mind clamored that this was a bad idea. This was their

first time, and the first time was supposed to be reserved for the bed, where he could

exercise some caution. Shower sex was always awkward and slippery. The rational part

of his mind, however, was quickly beaten down in a tide of raw desire. The beast in him

roared for release. His eyes focused on that dark pink rosebud, exposed and begging to

be fucked, and his last drop of caution evaporated.

His cock pressed between those smooth, firm cheeks. Taylor’s asshole was still

loose from their earlier foreplay. He blossomed open, his pink rim stretching as Keith

slid smoothly into the hot, tight glove of his body.

It had been so long, and it felt so damned good. Taylor’s body surrounded him

and gripped him -- a perfect fit, as if they’d been fashioned specifically for each other.

Slowly, Keith pulled back, then pushed forward again, moving in a gentle rhythm. It

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took all his effort and self-control not to pound into that willing body, but this was their

first time. He didn’t want it to be hard and rough.

He tried to hold out, to give Taylor some pleasure, but he was already so close to

the edge. He couldn’t bear it anymore. He thrust again and again, pounding into

Taylor’s ass, gripping his hips for purchase as he struggled not to slip on the wet

shower floor.

“Oh, God. Oh!” Keith came in a hot spurt and closed his eyes, breathing hard.

For a moment the world seemed to be going into free fall around him, and he had to

grip Taylor’s shoulders for balance. After a moment, he pulled out, come still dripping

from the tip of his now half-erect cock.

Taylor rose to his feet, his wet skin sliding along Keith’s, and they stood together

under the hot spray, arms around each other as the water rinsed away the sweat and

come.

They got out of the shower. Keith wrapped a towel around himself, then grabbed

another and turned to Taylor. “That was incredible,” he murmured. “Absolutely

amazing. I wanted to take my time, but…”

“It’s all right.”

“Next time will be different. I’ll go slower. I promise.”

Taylor smiled. “Keith, it’s all right, really. You made me feel good, so I wanted to

do the same for you. It’s not like I was a virgin.”

“Yeah, but still.” He rubbed the towel over Taylor’s hair, then worked his way

slowly downward, over his shoulders, his back, his ass, his long, lean legs. “Sit,” he

said.

Taylor sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat. Keith knelt, lifted Taylor’s left foot

and began to dry it off.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” The towel skimmed over the sole. Taylor twitched, and his toes

curled. “Are you ticklish?”

“A little.”

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Keith ran his tongue down the center of Taylor’s foot. Taylor gasped with

laughter. Keith grinned. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” He nuzzled Taylor’s foot, then

returned to drying it. He dried each toe carefully, separately, then turned his attention

to the other foot.

Once they were both dry, they slid back under the sheets. Keith turned off the

light. Taylor nestled against Keith’s side and placed his head on his shoulder. Keith

could feel his heartbeat, the warmth of his breath. “Look at me,” Taylor said softly.

“Please?”

Keith looked down into Taylor’s eyes. They were drowsy, the lids drooping, and

close enough for Keith to see his face reflected in them. Keith stroked Taylor’s cheek

with the backs of his fingers. “We should get some sleep.”

“Just look at me a little longer.”

“Okay.” He continued to stroke Taylor’s cheek as he looked into his eyes. He’d

never realized, before that moment, how intense and intimate eye contact could be.

His eyelids drooped again. They trembled as Taylor struggled to hold them

open. Keith placed two fingertips against Taylor’s lids and gently drew them down

over those sleepy eyes. Taylor didn’t resist. Within minutes, Taylor’s eyes began to

move in little flickers beneath his lids. He was dreaming. Keith kissed his lips, his

forehead, and each of his eyes. He held Taylor closer and listened to the soft in-and-out

of his breathing as he drifted off.

Once Taylor was sound asleep, Keith shifted to wolf form and slipped out of bed.

Every sense told him the apartment was empty, but still, he dared not relax. As he

prowled back and forth between the door and the bedroom, he vowed to himself that

no matter what happened, he would keep Taylor safe.

He heard a sound from outside the window, and his ears pricked up. Slowly, he

walked toward the window and stood still, listening. After a moment, he reared up on

his hind legs, rested his forepaws on the windowsill, and peered out.

He thought he glimpsed a dark human form standing in the parking lot, but in

the next instant, it was gone, and he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it.

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Chapter Five

It was just a matter of time before Lucas found out where he lived, if he hadn’t

already. Keith didn’t want a confrontation. If he fought Lucas and his bully-boys, he

would lose. That left only one option -- pack his bags and get out of town as fast as

possible. Take Taylor, load all his possessions into his car, and just take off. It wasn’t

like he’d really put down roots here. Hell, half his stuff was still in boxes.

He turned off the burner on the stove, scraped the eggs onto two plates, went to

the bedroom, and gently shook Taylor awake. Sleepy hazel eyes blinked up at him.

“Hey,” said Keith. “Have some breakfast. I’ll need your help loading my things into the

car.”

“Hmm?” Taylor sat up, yawned, and rubbed his eyes.

“We’re leaving town today.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know, but if I empty out my checking account, we’ll have enough money

to stay at a motel for a week or two. I can find another apartment, get another job.

There’s always some restaurant that needs a fry cook.” He forced a smile. “This is the

life of a stray, Taylor. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I told you, I want to stay with you. I’ll get a job too. I’ll work as much as I have

to. I won’t be a burden on you.” Taylor got out of bed. “Do you still want me?”

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. We may be on the

run for awhile. We’ll be living out of motel rooms, eating fast food, and laying low.”

“What do you think I was doing before I found you? It’s not like I’ve been

leading a charmed life.”

“But if you were part of a pack --”

“Is that what you want? For me to join Lucas’s pack?”

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“There are other packs.”

A muscle in Taylor’s jaw twitched. “If you want me out of your hair, just come

out and say it. Give me the word and I’ll disappear.”

“Damn it, that’s not what I want.” Keith ran a hand through his hair. “Listen. I

like you, Taylor. I like you a lot. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He brushed a lock of

hair from Taylor’s face.

Taylor gripped Keith’s hand. “You’re the only person I trust right now. Don’t

leave me.”

Keith felt a familiar tug at his heart. He knew, then, that there was no going back.

He and Taylor were in this together, for better or worse. He pulled Taylor into his arms

and held him tight. “I won’t leave you,” he whispered.

* * *

Together, they loaded Keith’s possessions into the back of his car, then drove

away. Keith stopped at the bank to empty his account, then took Route 80 out of town.

They drove all day and well into the night. Around eleven they pulled into the parking

lot of a small, tired-looking motel. A flickering neon sign read VACANCY. Taylor was

napping, head resting against the window. Keith gently shook him awake and popped

the trunk. They grabbed their suitcases and walked across the parking lot, into a lobby

with a threadbare carpet and off-white walls.

After checking in, they walked up the stairs and down the narrow hall, to their

room. One bed, a TV, and a bathroom, the sink flecked with rust. No patterns on the

wallpaper, no paintings, none of the usual touches meant to make a motel room feel

more like a home. Keith shut the door, kicked off his boots, and sat on the edge of the

bed. “Sorry,” he said. “I know it’s not the nicest place.”

“It’s fine.”

“There’s only one bed. I can sleep in the chair.”

“I don’t mind sharing.” Taylor opened his mouth as if he were about to say

something else, then looked away, a flush rising into his cheeks.

Keith wondered if he had any idea how appealing he was when he blushed.

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They took turns showering, then curled up together under the covers, wearing

nothing but boxers. Taylor nestled against Keith’s side. His skin was smooth and

flushed from the heat of the shower, and his freshly washed hair fell in loose, damp

waves to his shoulders. Keith’s gaze focused on his full, pink lips. Slowly, he lowered

his head until his mouth pressed against Taylor’s. Taylor moaned softly. His hand

stroked Keith’s flat belly, then moved lower to rest against his thigh. Heat rushed to

Keith’s cock, and it rose and swelled. Taylor’s fingers brushed the bulge in Keith’s

boxers, then slipped under the waistband.

“Are you sure?” Keith whispered breathlessly. “I mean -- it’s late, and --”

Taylor kissed him, silencing him, then pulled back and smiled. He slid Keith’s

boxers off. Beneath the covers, his fingers curled around Keith’s dick, and Keith gasped.

His balls tightened, tingling. He closed his eyes as Taylor’s hand slid up and down the

length of his hard shaft. Then one finger slipped down to trace a circle on his full,

aching balls, and his eyes snapped open. “God,” he whispered. “Taylor, that feels

incredible.”

“I can do more.” Taylor pulled back the covers, exposing Keith’s chest. He trailed

kisses over his collarbone, down to one pebble-hard nipple, and traced a circle around it

with his tongue. Then his mouth closed over it, engulfing it in wet heat. Keith’s body

arched off the bed. He slid his fingers into Taylor’s soft brown hair and gripped tight,

panting. Taylor’s mouth continued to tug his nipple, while lower, his fingers stroked

Keith’s stiff dick and toyed with his balls. Taylor cupped them and rolled them across

his palm.

Desire shot through Keith’s body, hot and overwhelming. Unable to restrain

himself any more, he gripped Taylor’s wrists and pushed him down to the bed, onto his

back. Taylor’s eyes widened. Keith stared deep into those big hazel eyes, growled softly

and nipped Taylor’s collarbone, startling a gasp from him. He kissed one hard nipple,

pulled it between his lips, and sucked it like a piece of candy. His teeth pressed lightly

into that tender bit of flesh, and he felt Taylor’s heart pounding through his ribs. His

thumb covered Taylor’s other nipple and pressed.

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“Oh, Keith… Don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t.” He stared into Taylor’s eyes as his thumbs rotated slowly around his

nipples. Then he yanked off Taylor’s boxers, rolled him onto his stomach, and gripped

his ass with both hands. Slowly, he parted the tight cheeks to expose the pink whorl

between them. Keith’s thumb brushed across it, then pressed the spot just beneath.

Taylor’s swift intake of breath made him smile. He pressed that spot again, harder, then

traced a slow circle around his rim. His dick throbbed, but he took his time, his thumb

toying with Taylor’s asshole. Then he leaned closer and dragged his tongue slowly

across it. Taylor’s body jerked in surprise. Keith breathed in deep, and Taylor’s scent

filled his nose, hot, musky and primal. Heart pounding, he reached between those slim,

toned thighs and gripped Taylor’s cock. It throbbed in his hand, rigid and hot, as his

tongue continued to tease and stroke the dimple of flesh between those firm cheeks.

Taylor whimpered. “More, please. I need it.”

“Just a minute.” Trembling with anticipation, Keith climbed off the bed and

fumbled through his suitcase until he found a small tube of lube. He squeezed some

onto his fingers, then parted Taylor’s cheeks again and slowly, carefully worked one

finger into that tight hole. Taylor’s rim clenched. Keith paused. “You okay?”

“Yes. Don’t stop.”

Keith worked another finger into Taylor’s body and stretched him carefully.

Taylor writhed, rubbing his hard cock against the sheets. With his free hand, Keith

cupped Taylor’s round balls -- they felt tight and hard in his palm -- and massaged

them gently with his thumb. Meanwhile, his fingers continued to stretch Taylor’s hole,

loosening the tight muscles. He pulled his fingers out, squeezed more lube into his

hand, and spread it over his own cock. Then, positioning himself above Taylor’s body,

he inched forward until the head of his cock was pressed against Taylor’s rim.

“Ready?”

Taylor nodded.

Keith pushed. He felt the head of his cock penetrate Taylor’s asshole. He waited

a moment, then pressed himself deeper into the tight, hot flesh. His cock slid smoothly

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into Taylor’s body, and Taylor pushed backward, taking him deeper still. A soft groan

rose from Keith’s throat.

With one hand, he cupped Taylor’s face and turned it so he could look into his

eyes. They were dazed, half-lidded, and dreamy. Keith kissed his parted lips. His

tongue slid between them, into the heat of Taylor’s mouth, while his cock pumped in

and out of his body. With a sound that was half a moan, half a growl, Keith pushed his

tongue deeper into Taylor’s mouth. He kissed him with bruising force and bit his full

lower lip, devouring his mouth. He buried one hand in Taylor’s soft hair and pulled his

head back to expose his soft throat. Keith’s mouth pressed to Taylor’s neck, kissing and

sucking his sweat-salty skin while Taylor’s pulse pounded beneath his lips. Keith kissed

his throat, his shoulders and upper back, all the while pounding into him harder and

faster as his balls tightened and swelled, until at last, he came. His body stiffened atop

Taylor as he emptied his balls into the hot depths of his body. He went limp, panting…

then slowly pulled out of Taylor, flopped down to the bed, and pulled Taylor’s body

into his arms.

“Did that feel good?” Taylor whispered.

“God, yes.” Keith kissed him again, hard. His hand stroked Taylor’s tight

stomach, then moved lower to curl around his rigid organ. He looked deep into those

big hazel eyes while he stroked Taylor’s cock.

Taylor was close to the edge. His breathing quickened, and a moment later, he

cried out as thick, sticky come spurted into Keith’s palm. Keith grabbed a handful of

tissues from the box on the nightstand, wiped off his hand, wrapped his arms around

Taylor and held him tight. They didn’t speak, just lay on the sweat-dampened sheets,

pressed close together, feeling each other’s heartbeat and breathing until they drifted

off.

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Chapter Six

Morning arrived, pale and foggy. They left the motel and drove west, through

miles of fields and farmland. Keith stopped in a small town to fill up on gas, and they

had breakfast in a greasy diner. Somewhere between the time they left town and the

time they drove past a wooden sign reading WELCOME TO IOWA, Keith realized that

a black car had been following them at a distance for quite awhile. He peered into the

rearview mirror. The car was too far away for him to see the driver, but a chill prickled

up his spine.

Keith pulled off the highway and drove down a narrow, bumpy rural road, little

more than a dirt path. Trees bordered the road, offering shade.

“Where are we going?” asked Taylor.

“Just a little detour,” said Keith. His fingers were tight on the steering wheel.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hopefully nothing, but that car has been behind us for a long time. I’ve got a

bad feeling.”

“You think it might be Lucas?”

“I hope to God it’s not.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t see

anyone behind them. Trees surrounded them, crowding in close to the road.

“Do you know where this road goes?” asked Taylor.

“No idea.” He hoped he hadn’t made a big mistake.

Keith stepped on the brakes. Ahead of them, the road was blocked off by a

whitewashed wooden gate and a sign that read, HIKERS ONLY BEYOND THIS

POINT. NO VEHICLES ALLOWED. “Shit,” muttered Keith. For a moment, he thought

about just driving straight ahead, through the gates -- the wood was so old and rotten-

looking, it would probably snap like toothpicks -- but the path beyond was almost too

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narrow for a horse, much less a car. He started to turn the car around, then looked into

the rearview mirror and saw the black car moving down the road toward them. Keith’s

heartbeat quickened. There was no way back, no way out. He put the car in park.

“Keith?” said Taylor. His eyes were huge.

“Get out of the car,” murmured Keith, “and be ready to run like hell when I give

you the word. There might be some fighting.”

Taylor gripped his arm. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

Keith squeezed his shoulder. He wished he could give Taylor that promise, but

he couldn’t, so he said nothing. He pocketed the keys and got out of the car.

The black car stopped. The door opened, and out stepped a tall, muscular, dark-

haired man: a bear squeezed into a short-sleeved white T-shirt and jeans. His skin was

deeply tanned, his nose crooked, his eyes small and dark beneath thick, black brows.

“Hey, Tony,” said Keith, sounding much calmer than he felt.

Tony grinned. A gold tooth glinted in the sun. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah.” Sweat trickled down Keith’s neck and back.

Two more forms emerged from the black car. One was a barrel-chested man with

short, curly blond hair and a ruddy complexion, even bigger than Tony. Tiny blue eyes

peered out from a broad, bland face, and his mouth was curled into a perpetual sneer

that Keith recognized all too well. Brad.

The third man looked almost tiny next to his two hulking companions, though he

stood close to six feet. Unlike them, he didn’t have muscle bursting from every seam of

his shirt, but his body was firm and lean, well-honed, like a good knife. A breeze stirred

his short, light brown hair. His face was deceptively open and young-looking, his eyes a

cool, strange shade of amber-yellow. His chin bore a neatly trimmed goatee. He wore a

dark, open jacket, a black shirt, and a pair of black pants. He smiled. “Keith! Good to see

you again, man. Where’ve you been?”

Keith wasn’t fooled by the jovial tone, or the grin. His heart thudded against the

wall of his chest. “Lucas,” he said. “How did you find me?”

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“Twisted a few arms. You didn’t really think you could hide from me forever,

did you?”

“I must say, I’m flattered. You took all this time out of your busy schedule to

come looking for me. I didn’t think I meant all that much to you.”

“Oh, it’s not what you mean to me. It’s what you mean to all the others. They still

talk about you, you know. How you slipped through our fingers.” His smile had faded.

“They’ve lost respect for me. ‘If Keith defied him and got away with it,’ they think,

‘then why can’t I?’ They don’t dare mouth off to my face, but they whisper together

behind my back.”

“Really, Lucas, I think you’re giving me way too much credit. I’m just one man.

Anyway, why should they want to defy you when you’re such a great leader?”

“Don’t be a wiseass.” He took a step forward. Dead leaves crunched under his

boots. “You know, Keith, a pack is a lot like a family. That makes me your father, in a

way.”

Tony snickered. Lucas cast him a withering glare, and Tony dropped his gaze.

The smile vanished from his face as if it had been wiped away with a cloth.

Lucas’s eyes focused on Keith again. “You’ve dishonored your father. That’s a

very serious crime. In the days of the Old Testament, a man who showed his father

disrespect could be executed.”

Taylor stepped forward. “Look, we haven’t done anything to you. We just want

to be left alone. What’s so bad about that?”

Lucas glanced at Taylor. His eyes narrowed. “Who’s this?”

“None of your business,” said Keith.

“He’s one of us, isn’t he?” Lucas took another step closer. “Yes. I can smell it.

And new, if I’m not mistaken.” He focused his attention on Taylor. “Listen, kid, you

don’t want to be with this asshole. Why don’t you come with us?”

A slow, shark-like grin spread across Brad’s face as he eyed Taylor.

“Run, Taylor,” whispered Keith. “I can hold them off for a little while.”

“I’m not leaving you. We’ll fight them together.”

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“For God’s sake, get out of here!”

Lucas smiled. “Brad,” he said. The hulking blond stepped forward. “Show the

new boy what happens to wolves who betray their own.”

“With pleasure.” Brad licked his lips and unbuttoned his shirt. He tossed it to the

ground.

Keith stepped in front of Taylor. His heart pounded.

Brad unbuckled his belt and dropped his jeans and boxers. His cock was stiff,

jutting from a tuft of blond pubic hair. Brad enjoyed administering punishment. He

cracked his knuckles. Then the pop and crunch of bones filled the air as he shifted. He

sank to all fours. Dark yellow fur flowed over his muscles. His teeth sharpened to

points.

“Taylor, run!” Keith shouted, praying he would obey this time. He didn’t think

they could outrun Lucas and his men, but maybe if Keith kept them occupied, Taylor

would have a chance.

Keith started to shift. He was barely halfway through when Brad tackled him.

Claws and teeth ripped through clothes and fur. Pain seared through Keith’s side. He

kicked out with his hind legs, and his feet hit Brad square in the gut, but Brad only

grunted. He dragged Keith to the ground with his greater weight, and Keith, still half-

changed, struggled beneath him. Brad’s jaws closed around his neck. Sharp teeth

pressed down until he couldn’t draw a breath. Keith squirmed and kicked out and

raked Brad with his claws, but he didn’t budge. Dizziness washed over him, and black

spots chased each other across his vision.

Then the crushing pressure was gone, and air rushed into his lungs. He heard a

yelp and looked up, blinking to clear his hazy eyes. Taylor, in wolf form, was atop Brad,

jaws around his neck. Brad twisted and snapped, but Taylor clung to him, ears pinned

back, eyes squeezed to slits.

Keith sprang at Brad, but a heavy body slammed into his and knocked him onto

his side. A huge, dark-furred wolf pressed him against the ground. Tony. He bared his

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teeth, eyes narrowed. Keith struggled, but Tony weighed almost twice as much as him.

Trapped beneath a mound of fur and muscle, Keith couldn’t budge.

Lucas, still in human form, approached and stared down at him. He shook his

head. “You never learn.”

Keith glared at him. “Kill me, then.” The words emerged in a growl from his

half-muzzle. “Just let Taylor go.”

A smile spread across Lucas’s face. “Oh, I’ll kill you… eventually. But first, you’ll

be made to regret your sins.”

Keith heard a yelp, and panic shot through him. Taylor. He struggled with

renewed strength, heart slamming against his ribs.

Lucas pulled something from his pocket and pressed it over Keith’s nose. A

sickly sweet, choking smell swam into his head. His vision dimmed. He struggled

against the rising tide of unconsciousness, but even as he fought to keep his eyes open,

he knew it was useless. Darkness swallowed him.

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Chapter Seven

He woke, head pounding. Pain burned in the muscles of his arms and shoulders,

and a duller, deeper ache suffused his whole body. He groaned and forced his eyes

open. His vision was hazy, blurred. Pain surged behind his eyes, and red stars burst in

his vision. He shook his head, trying to clear it. A sour, moldy smell filled his nose.

How long had he been unconscious? Minutes? Hours?

He could feel cold air on his naked skin. He was in human form. He must have

reverted while he was unconscious… and, he realized, he was upright. Not standing,

but hanging. Cold manacles bit into his wrists. A heavy iron collar pressed into his

neck. Chains clanked overhead. He swallowed. The pressure on his throat barely let

him draw a breath. His head swam, and his vision faded. For a moment he thought he

would slip back into the darkness, but then his vision cleared.

Cracked cement walls surrounded him. A single, naked bulb lit the room. There

was a drain in the floor’s center, with dark rust-colored stains running toward it. On the

opposite wall was a single, wooden door.

Keith’s thirst-swollen throat ached. He tried to moisten his cracked lips, but his

tongue felt like sandpaper. He couldn’t move his head, but when he strained his eyes

downward, he could see his body, the naked skin blotched here and there with

purplish-black bruises.

Keith had suffered through more than a few beatings during his time in Lucas’s

pack. Bruises like these would heal within a day or two, but he had a feeling there was

much worse in store for him. His head buzzed and his eyes lost focus.

Think! He blinked stinging sweat out of his eyes and tried to force his mind out

of its stupor. Was there any way he could loosen the manacles? Doubtful. They were so

tight, he couldn’t feel his hands. If he could just shift, his paws would slip from the

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manacles easily, but in his current condition that wasn’t even a possibility. He could

barely hold onto consciousness, much less find the strength to change form.

A black haze slipped across his vision, and for a while he couldn’t think, couldn’t

move, couldn’t do anything but hang there clinging to consciousness by a thread.

The click of a lock brought him awake. The door opened and Lucas entered,

Tony and Brad behind him. Tony padded along in wolf form, dark and shaggy, his

yellow eyes aglow like embers. He was much larger than a normal wolf, almost as big

as a cougar. Brad, in human form, dragged the struggling, bound and gagged form of

Taylor. Taylor’s clothes were torn, his hair disheveled. One eye was blackened and

swollen shut, and blood oozed from a split lip. He looked up at Keith, his one good eye

wide, and the terror in that eye went through Keith’s heart like a blade.

“Taylor.” Keith’s voice emerged as a thin croak. His heartbeat quickened. He

glared at Lucas, hate burning in his gut. “What did you do to him?”

“Don’t worry,” said Lucas. “We didn’t hurt him too bad, just enough to take the

fight out of him. We brought him here to give him an idea of what happens to repeat

offenders. You’ll take your punishment and your pal here will watch it all, every second

of it.”

Taylor let out a muffled cry. He struggled, but Brad just gripped his arms tighter

and grinned. Taylor stared at Keith, his eye filled with tears.

“Please,” said Keith, “he doesn’t deserve this. It’s me you want. Why are you

punishing him?”

“We aren’t punishing him,” said Lucas. “This is for his benefit. You don’t want

him to make the same mistakes you did, do you?”

“You twisted fuck.” Keith’s hands clenched. “You’re a disgusting excuse for a

werewolf. You’re not a leader. You’re just a sadistic little prick who gets off on other

people’s pain and fear.”

“Sticks and stones.” Lucas rolled up one sleeve. “First, a little warm up.” He

slammed his fist, hard, into Keith’s gut. It drove the remaining breath out of Keith in a

whoosh. He swung from his chains, gasping, sweat stinging his eyes. Before he had the

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chance to catch his breath, Lucas’s fist slammed into him again. Keith coughed and

choked. Blood bubbled up from his lips. His vision started to fade.

Lucas grabbed his chin. “Oh no. Don’t pass out. The fun hasn’t even begun yet.”

He grinned, showing sharper-than-human teeth. Bronze fur sprouted from his face,

from the back of his hands. His fingers shortened and thickened, and blunt claws

pushed out of his fingertips. He stopped in mid-change, looking like a wolf on two legs

awkwardly crammed into human clothes, his short muzzle filled with knife-like teeth.

Sharp claws pressed into Keith’s chest and raked downward. Keith stiffened

with pain as Lucas’s claws ripped through his skin. Blood ran down his chest, and

Lucas licked it up like honey. One rough, paw-like hand cupped Keith’s cheek. Hot

breath gusted against Keith’s neck as Lucas whispered into his ear, like a lover. “First, I

think, I’ll take your eyes.” His fingers curled into hooks and moved toward Keith’s left

eye.

Keith shut his eyes tightly. Rough fingertips pushed against his eyelid. Don’t look,

Taylor. He projected the message as hard as he could, hoping Taylor would receive it.

The pressure against his eye increased.

A scream ripped through the air. Lucas’s hand jerked back and Keith opened his

eyes.

Taylor had somehow gotten his gag off and sunk his teeth into Brad’s hand.

Blood dripped to the floor. Tears of pain streamed down Brad’s cheeks. “Shit! Get him

off! Get him off!”

Lucas turned and strode toward them. In his man-wolf form, he moved in jerky

steps, claws clicking on the cement floor. He backhanded Taylor across the face, but

Taylor didn’t let go. Brad howled. Lucas wrapped one clawed hand around Taylor’s

throat and squeezed until Taylor went limp and dropped to the floor.

Brad backed away, moaning and clutching his hand. “That little shit!”

“Easy, Brad. He just needs to learn his place.” Lucas backhanded Taylor again.

The crack echoed through the room, but Taylor didn’t move. “Wake up.” He swung his

hand. Another loud crack.

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Taylor moaned and coughed.

“Looks like our newest family member will need a little discipline of his own,”

said Lucas.

Keith tensed. “Don’t you dare touch him, Lucas.”

Lucas didn’t even look at Keith. He grabbed Taylor by his hair and lifted him.

“Brad,” he said. “Have some fun.” He shoved Taylor against the wall and held him

there, one hand on the back of his head.

“No!” shouted Keith. “Leave him out of this!”

Brad grinned. He undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slid them down.

Keith’s heart hammered. Rage pounded in his head. A red veil crept across his

vision. A low growl bubbled up from the depths of his chest. “Brad, if you touch him, I

will rip your balls off. I swear to God.”

Brad looked at him and smirked. “You’re chained to the fucking wall. You can’t

do shit.”

Tony’s mouth split in a canine grin, tongue lolling out as he watched.

Taylor’s face was mashed up against the wall. His rapid breathing echoed

through the room. He whimpered, deep in his throat. Lucas tightened his grip on

Taylor’s hair and pressed his face harder against the cement.

“I’m gonna fuck your boyfriend while you watch,” said Brad. He yanked down

Taylor’s jeans and boxers, leaving them bunched around his knees. Brad spat on his

hands and spread the saliva over his cock, then gripped Taylor’s ass and spread the

cheeks.

Keith roared. He was no longer aware of the pain in his body. There was only the

blazing heat of his anger. Chains rattled as he twisted in his restraints. The thunder of

his own heartbeat filled his ears. He heard the familiar crack and pop of bones, felt the

ripping pain as his muscles and organs rearranged themselves. Colors bled out of his

vision, melting to grays and browns. Fur erupted from his skin. His hands, now paws,

slid from the manacles, and his narrower wolf’s head slipped out of the collar. He

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landed on all fours and stalked toward Brad, heedless of the blood dripping from his

wounds.

Brad looked up. His eyes went wide, and his mouth formed a dark O. “Holy

shit!”

Keith leapt at him and tore into Brad’s throat. Hot, salty blood spurted out, filled

his mouth and spattered his fur. Brad let out a choked, gurgling cry and hit the floor,

throat gushing. He convulsed, then lay still.

Taylor gasped. He sat with his back pressed up against the wall, his face white,

his pants still bunched around his knees. Keith looked into his eyes just long enough to

send a thought -- I’ll protect you -- then turned to face Lucas. Tony stood at his side, a

huge, dark wolf, ears pinned back against his head.

Keith growled low in his throat. His lips rippled back from long, sharp teeth.

“Kill him, Tony!” said Lucas. He was still in half-wolf form, and his voice was a

deep, rough growl. He pointed a clawed finger at Keith. “Kill that freak!”

Tony leapt. He was almost twice Keith’s size, but Keith felt no fear. The taste of

blood was in his mouth, metallic and sweet, and his own blood pounded in his veins.

He lunged. Tony’s body cannoned into his, knocking him backward, onto the floor.

Teeth sank into his shoulder. Keith ignored the pain and snapped at Tony’s face. Blood

flew. Tony yelped and jerked backward. Keith’s jaws closed around his foreleg. Bone

crunched. Tony stumbled backward on three legs, his right eye a bloody mess, and

collapsed.

Keith turned to face Lucas, blood dripping from his jaws.

“Easy,” said Lucas. His tone was calm, but Keith wasn’t fooled. He smelled fear

seeping from Lucas’s every pore. “Take it easy. This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed.

Let’s make a deal.”

Keith lunged. Lucas reached for something beneath his jacket -- a gun, the fucking

coward has a gun -- but before he could draw it, Keith was on him. His paws struck

Lucas square in the chest and knocked him onto his back. His jaws closed around

Lucas’s throat. Lucas’s claws raked Keith’s face, seeking his eyes. Keith squeezed his

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eyes shut, but he no longer even cared about what happened to him, whether he was

blinded or maimed. There was nothing in his mind but the fierce, burning need to

protect Taylor, to eliminate the threat. His teeth pressed deeper into Lucas’s throat.

Lucas’s struggles slowed. His legs kicked as he wheezed for breath. At last, he went

limp beneath Keith, but Keith still held on. Lucas’s frantic heartbeat slowed, then

stopped entirely, but still, Keith didn’t let go.

“Keith,” a voice whispered. Taylor’s voice. Keith’s ears pricked up. “Keith, it’s all

right. He’s dead.”

The voice calmed him, cooled the burning anger. He opened his jaws, and

Lucas’s head hit the floor with a thump. His eyes bulged, and his tongue protruded

from his short, toothy muzzle. A thick foam of spittle, tinged pink with blood, covered

his chin.

Keith backed away from the corpse. He looked around, taking in what he’d

done. Brad, in human form, lay motionless on the other side of the room, and Tony still

lay in the corner, trembling, as blood oozed from his eye. When Keith glared at him, he

rolled onto his back, displaying his belly in submission.

Exhaustion crashed down on Keith. He sagged under its weight, his vision

blurred. The change came over him in a tingling rush, and he was too tired to fight it.

For a moment he remained on all fours, panting, his mouth filled with the hot, coppery

taste of blood. Nausea rolled through him, but he choked the hot bile back down.

“Keith?”

He turned. Taylor knelt behind him. His right eye was wide, his left eye a slit in a

mass of swollen, bruised flesh. Keith raised a trembling hand and touched his cheek.

“You okay?” he whispered.

Taylor nodded.

“Thank God.”

He heard the pop and crackle of bones, and turned to see Tony shift back to

human form. He crouched, naked, one arm hanging limp at his side, his face wet with

blood. He looked at Lucas’s corpse, then bowed until his forehead touched the floor.

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Keith stared. “What are you doing?”

“You killed Lucas,” said Tony. “Whoever kills the alpha in single combat is the

new alpha. That’s pack law.”

Keith pressed his knuckles to his forehead and tried to force his sluggish brain to

think. “Fine. These are my orders: Go back to our pack. Tell them that Lucas is dead,

and that they’re going to hold an election. They’re going to select a new leader by vote.

Every pack member gets a say in it.”

Tony blinked. “But that’s not how it’s done.”

“Are you questioning my orders?”

Tony flinched, bowed, and touched his brow to the floor again. “As you

command, my leader.”

“Good.” Keith’s shoulders sagged in exhaustion. He looked up. Tony was still

standing there, naked, clutching his broken arm. “Well?”

“Where will you go from here?” Tony asked.

“That depends. Where are we?”

“Lucas’s country home, about forty miles from where we ambushed you in the

woods.”

“Where’s my car?”

“In the driveway.”

“And the keys?”

“Brad’s pocket.”

“Okay. Great. We can handle ourselves from here.” He stared at Tony. “Well,

what are you waiting for? Go on. Go back and give them my orders.”

Tony bowed and walked out.

Keith turned back to Taylor. His heart cramped at the sight of those bruises. He

undid the coarse ropes binding Taylor’s wrists behind his back. His wrists were raw

and bloody. “Oh, Taylor,” Keith whispered. He kissed Taylor’s forehead, his cheeks, his

lips, tasted the salt of Taylor’s sweat and tears. He lightly touched the bruise on his left

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cheek. The flesh was hot and puffy. He looked into Taylor’s right eye, untouched and

beautiful as ever. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“This happened to you because of me.”

“What they did to me was nothing. Watching him hurt you was worse.”

“It’s over now. We’re safe.” Keith blinked. Why was the room spinning? He

closed his eyes, dizzy, but the feeling of vertigo remained. His stomach lurched. Hot

bile surged up his throat, and he swallowed.

“Keith? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just… tired.” Tired didn’t really begin to cover it. He was numb with

exhaustion. He wanted to lie down, right there on the cold, cement floor next to the

dead bodies, and sleep for the next twenty hours. But he knew that he should eat first.

He’d shifted back and forth twice in the past twelve hours. He’d burned up a lot of

energy. If he went to sleep now, he might never wake up. “Will you do something for

me?”

Taylor nodded.

“Go upstairs. Find the kitchen and bring me something to eat. Meat, if you can

find any, but just bring me something. If I’m sleeping when you get back, wake me up

and make me eat.”

Taylor wet his dry lips. “Okay.”

Keith sank to the floor and closed his eyes.

Taylor nudged him awake a few minutes later. He held something to Keith’s lips.

“Jerky,” he said. “It’s all I could find.” Taylor tore off a piece of jerky and placed it in

Keith’s mouth.

Keith tried to chew, but the jerky was leather-tough, and he was as weak as a

newborn. Taylor took the jerky, put it in his own mouth, chewed it, then leaned down

and pressed his lips to Keith’s. With his tongue, he pushed the wet pulp into Keith’s

mouth, then tore off another piece and repeated the process. He fed Keith from his

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mouth, like a mother wolf with her cub, until the jerky was gone. Cool fingers stroked

Keith’s hair away from his hot, sweaty forehead. “Can you stand?”

Keith struggled to hold his eyes open. “I can try.” Somehow, he managed to get

to his feet. Taylor slipped an arm around his waist and led him upstairs. Keith’s vision

faded in and out as he leaned against Taylor.

He sank down into something soft. A couch, maybe. He felt cool leather beneath

his cheek.

Taylor leaned down to stare into his eyes. “Do you need anything else?”

“Just need to… sleep.” Exhaustion pressed down on him like a leaden weight,

and his eyes closed. “Taylor,” he whispered with the last of his strength, “I… love…”

Darkness swallowed him.

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Chapter Eight

He woke on a bed, in a room he didn’t recognize. Keith raised his head, lifted the

sheets and looked down at himself. He was naked, and his injuries had healed almost

completely. Of the claw-cuts on his chest, only thin, pale pink scars remained.

Taylor was curled in a nearby armchair, eyes closed. His bruises had faded, but

even in sleep, his face was drawn and pale.

“Taylor?” croaked Keith.

Taylor stirred. His eyes opened, and he sat up. “You’re awake! Oh, thank God.

You’ve been asleep for almost two days. She kept telling me you were fine, you just

needed to rest, but it seemed like you were barely breathing. I didn’t dare leave your

side. I was afraid that if I did, I’d come back and you’d be…” He gulped.

“I’m fine.” Keith squeezed his hand. “Where are we?”

“Rachael’s apartment.”

“Rachael? How did you get in touch with her?”

“I found your cell phone in the car. Her number was on there, so I called. She

helped me bring you here.”

He rubbed his head, his mind still foggy with sleep. “Where is she now?”

“Work. She said she’d be back around seven tonight.”

Keith’s stomach tightened with dread. What if Lucas came here? Rachael would

be in danger. Then he remembered. Lucas was dead.

God, had that really all happened? Had he really killed the pack alpha? Keith

tried to remember exactly how he’d done it, but the events were shrouded in red fog.

All he remembered clearly was that burning rage.

“I hope I did the right thing,” said Taylor. “I thought about calling an

ambulance, but…”

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Keith squeezed his hand. “You did the right thing. If you’d called the medics,

they’d have seen the bodies, and then we’d be in a real mess.”

Taylor bit his lower lip. “What’s going to happen? I mean, sooner or later people

will realize that Lucas and Brad are missing, and someone will call the police. If they

find our blood or fingerprints, we’ll be suspects.”

Keith shook his head. “The pack cleans up its own messes. No werewolf wants

the police poking their noses into pack affairs. Tony will send some people to take care

of this quietly, if he hasn’t already.”

“But he was Lucas’s right hand man. Doesn’t he resent you for what happened?”

“Doubt it. Tony’s been a werewolf since he was a little kid. He’s wolf to the core.

A human would probably resent me, but Tony had no specific loyalty to Lucas. He

serves the pack alpha, whoever that might be.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it. I don’t know anything about werewolf ethics.

How do you feel?”

He smiled. “My muscles feel like overcooked noodles and my stomach is

growling. I feel like I could eat a whole deer -- hooves, antlers, and all. But otherwise, I

feel much better.”

“I’ll get you something to eat.” He stood.

Taylor returned with three tins of tuna and a fork. Keith peeled open a tin and

dug in. When he’d scraped the last bit of fish from the last can, he flopped onto the bed

with a sigh. He was a long way from full, but the food had at least taken the edge off his

hunger.

“You want more?” asked Taylor. “Rachael said it was important that you eat a

lot until you recovered. I’ll go get some.”

“Wait.” Keith caught his wrist. Taylor looked at him uncertainly. Keith pulled

him onto the bed and touched the furrows in Taylor’s brow, smoothing them with his

fingertips. “I’m sorry to have put you through all this. I didn’t want you to get tangled

up in my mess.”

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“Are you kidding? If I hadn’t met you, I’d be a corpse floating in the river. You

saved my life.”

He traced Taylor’s lower lip with his thumb. “I don’t think you really would’ve

jumped. You’re stronger than you know.”

He lowered his gaze. “I don’t think I’m very strong. I wanted to help you, but I

couldn’t do anything. I just watched while they…” He shuddered.

“You can’t blame yourself for that. There were three of them, and they were all

bigger than you. But if not for you, I don’t think I could have beaten them. When I saw

what they were about to do to you, I wanted to tear them apart. I’d never been so angry.

It was like being possessed by a demon. That anger gave me the strength I needed.”

Keith wrapped his arms around Taylor and kissed him. Taylor’s mouth softened and

opened beneath his. Tongues met, tangled, caressed each other. By the time Keith

pulled back, they were both panting for breath. “I would never have forgiven myself if

I’d let them hurt you. I love you, Taylor.”

Taylor’s arms tightened around Keith. “I love you too,” he whispered.

They lay pressed close together. Keith could feel Taylor’s heart beating against

his. Taylor hooked one slim leg over Keith’s waist. Keith’s cock stirred. Even in his

weakened state, his body responded to Taylor’s warmth and closeness.

One hand encircled Taylor’s wrist. His thumb brushed the pulse, and he felt it

quicken. “I want you.” Keith’s voice emerged deep and hoarse. He leaned closer. “Do

you want me?”

Taylor’s breathing quickened. His pulse fluttered under Keith’s thumb. “Yes.”

Keith covered Taylor’s body with his own. He rubbed his cheek against Taylor’s,

nuzzling him like a cat. His hands slid beneath Taylor’s shirt, over his hot skin. He felt

Taylor’s muscles tense, and he froze. He remembered Brad shoving Taylor against the

wall, pulling down his pants, remembered his ugly grin, and the sight of Taylor,

bruised, frightened…

“What’s wrong?”

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“I’m sorry.” Keith’s slid his hand out from beneath Taylor’s shirt. “I’m not

thinking clearly. It didn’t even occur to me that you might not want to be touched so

soon after… after what almost happened.”

“But I do. I want this. I want you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Take away the memory of what happened in that room. When you touch

me, I don’t think about anything else.”

Keith couldn’t deny him. He trailed kisses down Taylor’s neck, slipped his shirt

off, and kissed one small, hard nipple. His tongue swirled around it. He moved to the

other nipple and nuzzled it, watching Taylor’s face the whole time. His eyes were

closed, lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling with each breath. God, he looked so

sexy like that.

Keith moved lower, kissed Taylor’s inner thigh. He could see his stiff cock

straining against his jeans. Keith laid a hand over that hard bulge and massaged it with

his palm. Now that the hunger in his belly had eased, another hunger had awakened in

him. His body wanted Taylor’s, needed it, the way he needed food or space to run.

Keith unbuckled Taylor’s belt and pulled Taylor’s jeans off, then hooked his thumbs

beneath the waistband of his cotton boxers and slid them down, exposing his engorged

cock and round, dark balls.

Slow down, he told himself. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but his

hunger wouldn’t be calmed. He pushed his head between Taylor’s thighs and licked the

salt from his balls, breathed in the hot, earthy scent of his flesh. His lips brushed

Taylor’s cock. A shudder ran through Taylor’s body, and his fingers slid through

Keith’s hair.

Keith’s tongue swirled over the head of that straining cock, lapped the sensitive

slit. A bead of pre-come welled up from the tip, and his tongue swept it away. He

wrapped his lips around the hard, hot flesh and sucked until Taylor was gasping and

moaning. Then, when he sensed Taylor nearing orgasm, he withdrew. Taylor

whimpered.

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“Shhh.” Keith kissed his heaving belly. “On your knees.” The words emerged as

a rough, whispered command.

Taylor turned over. He knelt with his ass up and his head down on the bed, his

full balls like ripe fruit dangling between his slim thighs. Keith gripped that tight ass in

both hands and squeezed.

He’d meant to go so much slower than this, be so much more gentle, but the

beast inside him had awakened, and it demanded release. His thumbs parted the cheeks

of Taylor’s ass, exposing his small, pink, puckered asshole. His tongue flicked against it,

and he heard the quick intake of Taylor’s breath. A soft growl rose from Keith’s throat.

One finger pressed against the tight ring of muscle until it loosened and opened, and

his finger slid into Taylor’s body.

Taylor squirmed. The hot, dry walls of his anus clenched.

Keith hesitated. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I need to know the truth. If anything hurts, I need you to tell

me.”

“I’m fine.”

Keith moved his finger inside Taylor’s body. He found what he’d been searching

for and pressed gently. Taylor let out a soft moan. Keith pushed a second finger inside

him and carefully stretched his hole.

Taylor clutched the sheets. His teeth pressed into his lower lip.

“It’s hurting you,” said Keith. “I shouldn’t be doing this. We don’t have anything

to use for lube.”

“I’ve done it dry before. I can handle it. Please, Keith, please. You don’t

understand. I need it. I want you inside me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes!” Taylor’s hips arched upward, pushing back against Keith’s fingers.

Keith withdrew them slowly, spat on his hands, spread the saliva over his cock,

and positioned himself above Taylor. “Wait. Hang on.” He leapt up and opened the

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dresser drawer. He was in luck. He found a bottle of oil, squirted some onto his palms,

and smoothed it over Taylor’s rim and his own erection. He adjusted his position until

his cock nudged Taylor’s ass, then pushed forward. His hard, aching rod slid into the

waiting heat of Taylor’s body.

Keith’s hands rested on Taylor’s hips as he pushed deep into that tight ass.

Taylor’s body fit him like a glove, and the primal pressure surrounding his cock made

him moan. “Taylor… oh, God…” One hand slipped between Taylor’s legs, wrapped

around his cock and pumped in rhythm with his thrusts. A low growl rose from Keith’s

throat. One hand gripped the sheets and clenched tight. Dark fur sprouted from the

back of his hand and his nails sharpened into claws. Cold fear gripped his heart.

He was changing. And he couldn’t stop.

He thrust his cock harder and faster into Taylor’s ass. Wrenching pain gripped

him as muscles tore and reformed. His teeth grew sharp. His clawed fingers dug into

the bed sheets as he thrust and thrust, unable to stop, even as he shifted to wolf form.

He threw his head back and howled as he came into Taylor’s body.

Keith collapsed to the bed, panting. The change swept over him again in a warm,

tingling wave. He raised his head. As desire faded, fear and shame rushed in to take its

place. His chest tightened. He was afraid to look at Taylor, afraid he would see horror

and disgust in his eyes. “Taylor, I… God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay.” Taylor lay on his side, skin glistening with sweat. There was a wet

stain on the bed where he’d come. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“But…”

“You warned me it might happen. I was prepared.”

“You aren’t disgusted?”

“Of course not. You’re still you, no matter what shape you’re in. Do you think I

love you any less when you’re in wolf form? I’m not afraid of what you are, what we

are. Not anymore. You’re the one who showed me that being a werewolf doesn’t make

me a monster.” He reached out to touch Keith’s cheek. “I could never be disgusted with

you.”

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Keith could only shake his head, astonished. He pulled Taylor into his arms.

“You’re amazing. You know that?”

“You’re the amazing one.”

Keith shook his head again, but he didn’t have the strength to argue. They lay

together, flushed and damp with perspiration. Keith heard a door open and close

somewhere outside the bedroom. He tensed, then relaxed. Only Rachael coming home

from work. “We should probably put some clothes on,” said Keith, and Taylor laughed

breathlessly. He kissed Keith’s throat and sat up.

“Yes,” he said, “and then you need to eat some more.”

“I know. I have a feeling I’ll need to clean out Rachael’s pantry before I feel

remotely satisfied.” He sighed. “I’ll have to think of some way to repay her for all this. I

owe her big.”

“She already owed you, though. She told me about that.”

“Ah, that? That was nothing.”

“Nothing? You stopped Brad from raping her. You risked your life to save her.

You never told me she was the one you rescued.”

Keith shrugged. “I just did what any decent person would do in my place.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Keith only smiled. “Wait here. I’m going to go get some food.”

He threw on his shirt and jeans and paused, looking over his shoulder. Taylor

lay on the bed, hair rumpled, cheeks flushed, eyes still unfocused and dreamy. Keith

couldn’t resist leaning over and giving him one more kiss. He made it a deep, thorough

one. Then he walked into the kitchen where Rachael was putting groceries in the fridge.

She looked at Keith. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Much better. Taylor told you everything?”

She nodded. “You were unconscious for awhile. He’s had plenty of time to give

me the whole story. What you did was pretty remarkable, you know. Changing when

you were half-conscious from exhaustion, defeating Lucas in single combat, not to

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mention killing that perverted fuck, Brad. I have to say, I won’t be shedding many tears

over him. Here.” She tossed him an aluminum can.

Keith caught it and glanced at the label. It was a protein shake.

“Drink a few of those. You need to replenish your energy.”

Keith opened the shake and drained it in two gulps. “Thanks.”

“So,” said Rachael, putting a gallon of milk in the fridge, “are you going to do

it?”

“Do what?”

“Become the new alpha of Lucas’s pack. You have the right.”

He shook his head. “You know me better than that. I already gave my first and

only orders as the new alpha. They’re going to elect their own leader.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What if they elect you?”

“I’m not in the running. I’m a drifter. I could never hold a pack together.”

“If you say so. I’ll tell you, though, I’d be much more likely to rejoin the pack if I

knew you were running things. As it is, I might lay low awhile longer and see what

kind of leader they elect.”

“So you haven’t joined a new pack yet?”

“Actually, I’m looking to start my own. I’ve already found a couple of girls who

are interested. Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first all-female pack. But you and your

friend are welcome to join, if you like.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m just not pack material. You could ask Taylor,

though.”

She chuckled. “I already asked him. He said he’s going to stick with you,

whatever your decision. I guess you’re not a stray anymore.”

“I’m not?”

“Well, a stray is a lone werewolf, right? And you’re not alone anymore. I guess

this means you have a pack of your own.”

Keith scratched his head. “Can you have a pack of two?”

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“Pack is family. It’s not the number of wolves that matters, it’s the sense of

belonging. When you’re with your true pack, you feel at home.”

“Then I guess he’s my pack now.”

“I’m glad. Being alone isn’t natural for us. For our kind, I mean. Both humans

and wolves are social animals, and we’re a little of both.” She glanced at him and

smiled. “By the way, your shirt is inside out. Got dressed in a hurry, did you?”

He blushed.

* * *

That night, Keith curled up in bed with Taylor’s back spooned against his front.

Rachael had insisted he and Taylor take the bed while she slept on the fold-out couch.

“Where will we go after this?” asked Taylor. “I mean, we can’t stay here

forever.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just take a big map of North America, close my eyes,

and stick a pin down somewhere. Anywhere there’s trees and open space, I’ll be happy,

as long as I’ve got you with me.”

Taylor looked into his eyes. “We can stay together?”

“Of course.”

“Promise?”

His lips brushed Taylor’s cheek. “Nothing is going to tear me from your side.”

“You’re my angel.”

Keith chuckled. “I don’t think too many angels have fur and fangs.”

“You never know.” Taylor looked out the window. A smile crept across his face.

There was a sparkle in his hazel eyes. “It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful night. The

moon is almost full. A great night to run, don’t you think?”

“You bet.”

They got dressed, quietly slipped out of the apartment, and drove out of town,

through long stretches of cornfield, until they were surrounded by trees. The air was

cool and still, the moon shone down through a gap in the clouds. They drove until the

road dwindled to a bumpy dirt path, then parked, got out, and shed their clothes.

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Under the watching eye of the moon, they shifted, exchanging their naked human flesh

for thick coats of fur. The world became a rich tapestry of scents and sounds. They ran,

feeling the soft earth under their paws. The wind streamed through their fur, and

Keith’s heart soared with the freedom of running. He looked at Taylor, his mouth open

in a wolfish grin. Their eyes met, and he knew Taylor felt the same thing.

The night, the forest, the stars, it was all for them.

Keith pounced on Taylor and they hit the ground together, wrestling. Their

bodies tumbled through the cool grass. Taylor pinned Keith, mouth open, tail wagging.

Keith rolled over and gently bit the thick fur at Taylor’s neck. Taylor’s warm body

wriggled beneath him, and Keith’s dick hardened.

Taylor looked up at him hopefully and licked the side of his muzzle. Keith’s

heartbeat quickened. He shifted to human form, and Taylor followed his example a

moment later. In the moonlight, his smooth skin looked like ivory, but infinitely softer.

Keith wanted to bite that skin, to suck and lick it. Taylor met his gaze, eyes sparkling, as

if he knew what Keith was thinking and approved. That look sent a hot lightning bolt of

desire through Keith’s body, and his cock -- already rock hard -- swelled until it almost

hurt.

He gripped Taylor’s shoulders and pushed him to the ground, onto his back. He

nuzzled Taylor’s chest, ran his tongue over one small, dark nipple and felt it stiffen.

Licking his lips, Keith ran his thumb in a circle around that dark bud and watched the

areola pucker in the cool, night air. He pinched the nipple and tugged lightly, and

Taylor gasped. “More…”

Keith didn’t need encouragement. His mouth engulfed Taylor’s nipple, and his

teeth pressed into the hard, springy flesh, squeezing until Taylor writhed beneath him,

whining softly deep in his throat. Keith released him and saw a neat imprint of teeth

around his nipple, like a brand. “Sorry,” he murmured, but Taylor covered his mouth

with one hand.

“Don’t apologize.” He looked up at Keith, cheeks flushed and pupils dilated. “It

felt good.” His tongue crept out to wet his pink lips. “Really good.”

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Keith’s gaze focused on those plump lips, glistening with moisture. His mouth

crashed against them, claimed them, devoured them. Their tongues met, tangled,

stroked each other in a hot, wet dance as Keith’s hand slipped between Taylor’s slim,

toned thighs to cup his balls. He rolled them across his palm, growling softly against

Taylor’s lips. His pulse thundered in his veins. One finger pressed the sensitive spot

behind Taylor’s balls, and Taylor’s hips bucked. “Oh yeah… oh Keith…”

Keith attacked his nipples again, sucking and biting. He trailed wet kisses down

Taylor’s flat, hard stomach, down to his groin, and ran his tongue along the length of

his engorged cock. His mouth engulfed the first few inches and slid up and down its

length. Taylor moaned, low and long, his hips twitching. Keith pulled back to catch his

breath, and Taylor flipped over, onto his stomach. “Please,” he panted, “I need it.”

Keith hesitated, but only for a moment. His stiff cock throbbed for release. He

knew that Taylor, too, was in the grip of primal need. There was no time for caution or

gentleness. He spread Taylor’s cheeks and thrust two fingers into his tight, dry hole.

Taylor’s back arched. Keith worked his fingers in and out, reaming Taylor’s puckered

opening, then positioned himself over that lean, hard body, spat on his palm and

spread the saliva over his straining cock. He smoothed more spit over and inside

Taylor’s rim, then pressed the head of his cock between those firm cheeks and sheathed

himself in Taylor’s body.

Taylor’s head snapped back and he howled, high and long. Keith’s voice joined

his as he slammed into him again and again, sweat slapping against sweaty flesh, skin

gliding and rubbing against skin, a delicious friction, as they moved together in a

rhythm as old as time. He bit Taylor’s shoulder, teeth pressing into smooth, sweat-salty

flesh. Taylor’s walls clenched around him, and the jolt of pleasure made him dizzy. He

reached between those trim thighs, wrapped a hand around Taylor’s cock and pumped

it. His balls tightened and tingled, the sense of pressure building in his gut and cock

until he could hardly stand it… until at last, he erupted inside Taylor’s body. A moment

later, Taylor’s cock spurted come, leaving a wet stain on the grass.

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Keith pulled out. They collapsed together in the grass, sweat-drenched and

breathing hard, fingers tangled in each other’s hair as the night air cooled and dried the

perspiration from their naked bodies. Keith’s head spun. He felt weightless, dizzy,

exhilarated.

Taylor gazed up at Keith, his eyes half-lidded and drowsy. “I love you, Keith.”

Keith nuzzled Taylor’s hair. “I love you too. And I’m never letting you go.” He

stroked Taylor’s back. “You’re my pack now, remember?”

Taylor smiled. “And you’re mine.”

“Feels good to have a pack,” murmured Keith. They lay, pressed close together,

bathed in the moonlight and the cool night air as their hearts beat in rhythm. Keith had

never felt so content. Whatever happened, he vowed, they would be together. He closed

his eyes and drifted off, Taylor’s head resting close to his heart.

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Amanda Steiger

Amanda Steiger has lived in the Midwest her whole life, though she enjoys

regular visits to other galaxies and dimensions in her mind. She enjoys cold weather,

daydreaming, supernatural romance, and anime. She lives with her family and one very

spoiled little dog. You can contact her at sekuiro@comcast.net.


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