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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Death in the Shadows - 30. Chapter 30: Tricky Tussle

This wasn’t a part of the agenda, but I’m excited for it.

As am I, Yakob responded. It’s been a few months since I last sparred with Vincent. Have you heard from him lately?

Cyrus looked between the monk and his silent mate. Wanting to include Kaplan in the conversation, he admitted, “Vincent chose to work for the EC as an auditor. From what I hear, he’s doing quite well.”

“An auditor?”

“He’ll be evaluating packs, tribes, and other groups of shifters across the globe. Essentially, he took my job.”

“Ah. Seems more productive than stocking a grocery store.” As the monk turned a corner he opened a wide door, blasting the three with the wintry air.

Stepping outside, a few monks summoned wide, black tendrils and swept the snow aside. Given a large space, the alpha was more than satisfied. No snow was falling, and a few torches were lit around the area. Perfect. Almost like the arena at the summit. Satisfied, Cyrus shouldered his coat off and handed it to Kaplan. “Wish me luck, my pup.”

Kaplan tip-toed as the bear stooped, giving a kiss. “Don’t go too fast. I want to actually watch what you’re doing.”

Giggling, he fingered the lycan’s earlobe. “I’m afraid you’ll have to keep up. I don’t think Yakob will slow down on our account.”

“Indeed,” confirmed the monk. “Vincent told me of this lightning orb you possess. I am interested to see it in action.”

Fully prepared, Cyrus and Yakob moved to the center of the clearing. The alpha dipped his head in respect. “I expect a fun fight.”

“Likewise. It has been too long since I faced a lightning mage.”

Once Yakob bowed at the hip, the men spaced themselves.

Knowing he needed to keep his mind free and clear, Cyrus tested the monk. Keeping his body still, he flicked a finger, firing a bolt. With a simple wall, Yakob deflected it away into the open sky. Fast reflexes. I’m impressed.

Yakob’s smile was unwavering, even as a flurry of shadowy ropes sprung from the man’s feet. Aiming, Cyrus shot each one of them down using both hands. Very accurate, Alpha Vonder. How do you handle close combat?

Maintaining confidence, the panda giggled. “Easily.” He focused his energy on his ankles, then lunged. In an instant, Cyrus speared the monk, sending him to the ground. He heard Yakob grunt, but the man vanished into a void. Needing to move, he bolstered his magic and jumped thirty feet into the air. Once Yakob reappeared in the fighting space, Cyrus dove, enveloping his body in lightning. Before landing, the human zipped to the side, and the alpha vaulted away.

Dealing with an equally agile opponent, he saw Yakob as a true rival. There were many issues with fighting a shadow mage. Cyrus could be ensnared, swept off their feet, or even transported far away in moments. His own magic was capable of being blocked with ease. The panda knew he was at a disadvantage from the beginning. Using his bear or hybrid form was not as mobile, so he was stuck as a human.

Creating a small orb of crackling energy, he sent it flying towards Yakob. When the man merely stepped to the side, Cyrus twirled his index.

The ball changed course. It was redirected, nailing Yakob in the back. The monk yelped and fell forward. When he landed, Yakob dissipated in another miasma of black smoke.

The bear’s instincts kicked in. Cyrus surrounded himself with a field of electricity, only to see Yakob’s tendrils attack the surface. Turning, Cyrus saw the man, but another slap against his barrier rang out. “Attacking from behind? I thought you'd be above that sort of thing.”

“No such thing as a fair fight, Alpha Vonder. Even in a spar, one must do all they can to achieve victory.”

“Quite true.” Maintaining his field, Cyrus shot several bolts at the monk. Each one missed as the shadow mage flickered around the clearing.

When Yakob never reappeared, the alpha worried. He’s here. Is he waiting me out? I still have plenty of energy to spare.

Do you, Alpha Vonder? The monk’s calm voice murmured within his mind. Or is that a ploy?

I’m shocked you would suggest that! I would never lie. It was the truth; Cyrus could keep going for a while, but his barrier was continually taking from him and he could not let that be known.

You should always tell the truth. What you should not do is leave yourself open.

What? Cyrus evaluated himself and his magic. He was completely protected against any projectile or physical attack. Yet why are my instincts screaming?

The instant the alpha felt the ground beneath him tremored, he leaped away. Underneath! His ankle was gripped by inky darkness, then pulled back down. Landing on the hard ground, Cyrus was wrapped tightly. His hands were bound. He was captured.

Yakob appeared in front of him. “You left the space between your feet and the ground unprotected.”

Cyrus smirked. “You act as if you’ve won.”

“I have.”

Licking his lips, the alpha closed his eyes and focused. Opening them, his power surged in his gaze. Without hesitation, he stared at the monk and released. A bolt shot from each eye, blasting Yakob off his feet.

Free from the confines, Cyrus backed off and assessed the situation as Yakob stood. Blood trickled from the human’s charred shoulder, but black smudges covered and sealed the wound. Although the man looked exhausted, Cyrus knew looks could be deceiving. There was a gleaming passion in the monk’s eyes.

As Yakob lifted his arm, the alpha curled his index finger. The small orb he hit the man with earlier flew back with a thirst for blood. As it neared, a black wall rose.

No! Whipping his arms out, he pumped energy towards his weapon. Sending everything he could muster, the orb grew in size. When it crashed into Yakob’s defense, Cyrus snapped his fingers.

The ball detonated, creating a blinding light that dwarfed the monk’s magic. Cyrus seethed. Sweat dripped down his forehead, cooling immediately in the frigit air. The shadow mage was giving him one hell of a fight.

As the light dissipated, Yakob was motionless on the ground. He’s still breathing. “Yakob!”

“Y-yes, Alpha Vonder,” Yakob wheezed.

Approaching, the panda’s vision shook. He exerted more energy than he intended. Taking a deep breath, he kept a bolt locked and loaded on a fingertip, ready to fire should this be a ploy. “Are you done?”

“Y-yes." Huffing and puffing, Yakob slowly got to his feet. The smile was still there despite having burned skin patches and a few plugged wounds. "That was… That was marvelous! I haven't been pushed like that in years."

Cyrus wiped the sweat off his face. "I can say the same. You made me resort to my eye-bolts."

The men shared a laugh as Yakob stumbled. Cyrus caught him. "Are you okay?"

"Quite. I just realized I'm no spring chicken. A few minutes of meditation and we can continue with the tour."

With Kaplan opening the door for them, Cyrus carried Yakob inside. A few monks came urgently but were dismissed by their leader. In his office, Yakob took a seat on a short daybed. "This was refreshing, Alpha Vonder."

"Cyrus, please. And it was refreshing. I was disappointed when I never got my match with Vincent, but this was so exciting. Are you sure you're okay? I can take you to a hospital."

"I am fine. I can use my remaining energy to speed up my healing. Thank you for your concern, Cyrus."

"Of course."

The three talked for a while until another monk came. Yakob rose, clearly recovered. "It has been a pleasure having you gentlemen. It's nearly time for evening meditation."

Cyrus got the hint. "We'll be on our way then. This was a wonderful trip, so expect frequent trips. I believe twice a year would be sufficient, wouldn't you say?"

"You may come anytime. As a token of my gratitude, would you allow us to escort you down the mountain?"

The couple accepted, and two monks came shortly after. Giving them an address, Cyrus watched his vision turn gray and everything around him became a blur. Dropped off in front of their complex, the bear took Kaplan by the hand and walked away. "Where are we going?"

Cyrus giggled. "All-Stars. I'm famished."

***

Elaine's feet dragged as she danced backward. Now!

Vincent lunged. With an icy rapier in hand, he swung his arm. His weapon collided with his teacher's staff, but he did not stop. Rolling his wrists, he lashed out again in quick succession. Deflected again, he used the momentum to spin low and swipe her legs. As she hopped away, she slung a shard, to which he stopped by forming a small shelf in his palm.

The ground beneath him went cold, and frost formed on the grass. Vincent quickly covered his legs with ice as bushes of needles protruded, striking him. Running away, more and more arctic spikes popped from the earth. C'mon! How do we get past her?

Me.

Got it. Encasing himself in a cube, Vincent shifted, shredding his clothes. After kicking off his shoes, he broke the protective walls. On all fours, he could move much faster. With his wolf at the helm, he focused on his energy. You dodge, I'll shoot.

The alpha darted for the frost master. Weaving between the bushes, he closed the distance. Now!

Hearing his wolf's instruction, Vincent manifested magic for a big, single blast. The animal released it with a bark, launching a large shard of ice at Elaine.

She managed to raise her staff to block it, but there was too much momentum. Knocked off her feet, Vincent rushed. Go go go!

The moment Elaine landed, the alpha was on top of her with his maw barely open, showcasing his teeth.

"Very good, Vincent," she gasped. "Excellent timing on your shift."

Trotting away with tail swishing, Vincent basked in his victory. Yes! Good win. Strong win.

Not bad, bud. Don't know if I could've handled those ice patches without you.

No shadow magic. Cover legs did good.

Yeah, but I couldn't bend my knee. I can't make flexible ice.

Oh. No, can't.

Brushing off their limitations, he joined his mother-by-bond inside for a quick lunch. Even training with the EC shadow mages could not excuse his frost lessons. Between both affinity sessions and studying for the auditor examination, Vincent had a packed schedule. "Gods," he panted.

"A lot on your plate?" She asked while handing him a dressed turkey and Swiss sandwich.

"Not a lot. More like a little more than the right amount. Teddy and Holly are insane. I have to use several beads just to keep up with them."

Elaine looked at him for a moment, then set her food down. "Vincent, may I be blunt?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Vincent nodded.

"Put that thing away."

What? "The bracelet?"

"You use it like a crutch. It's inhibiting your natural ability to save energy. You have a massive pool at your disposal and think you can expend it as you please. Why do you think I can keep up with you in a spar? Same goes for Yakob and Teddy and Holly?"

The reason smacked him in the face. "I need to use my direct pool of energy." Taking the beads off his wrist, he studied the black and white stones.

"I'm not asking to remove it," Elaine explained. "Just keep it for emergencies. Try putting it on your ankle. Out of sight, out of mind."

Peeling his shoe off, he rolled the bracelet over his foot. She's right. This thing’s a crutch.

But good. Rocks good for fight.

I mean, yeah. But we've gotten used to it. I don't even know our own capabilities without it.

I get. No know own power.

Tying the laces, Vincent stared at his wrist. The beads left an indent on his skin. It's healing fast because of the lycanthropy, but have I worn it that long? With a new resolve, he finished his sandwich and joined Elaine for meditation.

"When your stores are full," she advised, "avert your attention from the bracelet. You'll feel your skin getting cold. That's your cap."

An hour later, he was full. Elaine instructed him to make snow in the yard, expending every ounce of magic without hurting himself. Once done, he gasped and panted. He made a pile as tall as himself.

"Tighten your focus, Vincent. Let a trickle of your magic out, but magnify and shape it into a cone."

He thought of getting a boost from the bracelet. No. That defeats the purpose. Sitting next to his snow, he sighed. This might take a while.

***

The days flew by, and they confused Dirk more and more. At his desk, he got up. Bathroom. Need to go.

He felt Ingle's teasing glance from across their workstation. His cock twitched, somehow getting harder. "Fuck you, Justin," he whispered.

"Nah, not yet. We still got some reports to finish."

"Kind of hard to do when you're fucking me with your eyes."

Ingle smirked, reclined in his squeaky chair, and grabbed a file. "Alright, alright. I'll stop… for now."

Dirk bit his lip as he tried to stop another twitch. Unsuccessful. "Asshole." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he slouched and jutted his hands outward, doing his best to conceal his boner. Reaching the bathroom, he unleashed the aftermath of a pot of coffee.

The lycan teased him frequently. Caressing his hip, gripping an ass cheek, and the ever-so-seductive stares. Their relationship was stronger than steel, both inside and out of the station. Everyone knew about them and the reception was mostly positive. A few kept their opinions to themselves, but Dirk smelled their sense of discomfort or unease. Fuck 'em.

Thinking of the curse word, he instantly envisioned Ingle's puckered hole swallowing his cock. Growling to himself, he splashed water on his face. Just got my dick down! Damn it!

After cooling himself off, he went back to his desk. Ingle instantly saw him, rose, and grabbed his jacket. "Lunchtime."

Hopping in the Jeep, Dirk watched as they passed Nini's; their typical go-to. "Uh…"

"Not with your horny ass. Morr will eat you alive. Either that, or give you a hot dog bun and tell you to stuff it."

His destined was funny. Smart and witty. Quick on his feet. "I love you."

The vehicle slowed momentarily as if Ingle forgot how a gas pedal worked. A few quick glances later and he said, "I-I love you too, Dirk."

The moment felt natural and genuine. Holding Ingle's hand, Dirk lifted and pecked it.

Their lunch lasted longer than anticipated, but with their feet rubbing the other's ankles and repeating the new three-word phrase like fourteen-year-olds, they had a memorable time. Back at work, their love lives were shelved. They abided their promise to Henry to the letter. No hanky panky, no drama. Just work.

Dirk counted the minutes. Before they called it quits for the day, he asked, "Wanna go to dinner tonight? My treat."

Seeing the man smile with his luscious lips, the bear turned off his monitor. Rising, he turned the table corner and offered his hand to Ingle. Walking hand in hand, they headed for the door with a few wolf whistles blaring behind them. Jealousy trickled in Dirk's mind, but his animal soothed him. No be jealous. They jealous.

Yeah, you're right. Still, he's mine. No one else's.

Once inside their home, the men were on one another. Kissing, pawing at their clothes, and nipping at their necks. "I want you," Dirk husked.

"You got it, big boy."

"No," he whispered. "I want you. Inside me."

The giant bulge between his and Ingle lurched, making Dirk growl. He thought about this moment for the past few weeks. I want him more than anything. Sure, he’s got a Four Loko can down there, but I trust him. Despite being taller and larger than the lycan, he felt safe and secure in Ingle’s arms.

The two have crossed every line except for this last one. Suck each other off before the first date? Check. Hand jobs in Ingle’s jeep after work? Check on three different occasions. Spurting again and again as the wolf’s tongue dove between his cheeks? Check, check, and check all over two sets of sheets.

It was time to complete the list. In the last couple of weeks, both Mason and Vincent have given them much-needed advice, but Dirk took Vincent’s crucial lesson to heart. Being submissive is being dominant. My body’s a gift, and I’m giving it to Justin.

Ingle’s passionate grip slackened. The man’s pale-brown eyes stilled as they searched the bear’s. “You’re ready? To… to do it?”

“Are you ready?”

The lycan smiled, caressed Dirk’s hips, and whispered, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“Wouldn’t happen in a million years. We’re perfect for each other. You’ll fit just right.” Walking backward, Dirk led Ingle to the bedroom. Swiftly unfastening the man’s belt, the bear slid the wolf’s pants down and knelt. Relaxing his throat, he took Ingle into his mouth. He saw his mate’s eyes as he bobbed. They’re full of love. It’s not even about power or whatever. I just want to make this man’s legs feel like jelly.

Ingle brought Dirk back to his feet and kissed him. When they parted, the lycan’s confidence returned. “I’m gonna put so many babies in you.”

Smirking, Dirk shed his shirt as Ingle started on his jeans. Once they were off, he heard Ingle's low whistle. “Hot damn…”

The bear wore a solid black jockstrap. He kept it secret all day long, knowing it would drive Ingle insane. Hell, I felt his gaze at work. He probably knew. Crawling onto the bed, he curled a finger, encouraging Ingle to follow. Laying on his back, he watched his naked destined prowl between his legs.

Making out, Ingle’s skin was smooth against Dirk’s hairs. He kept his ankles around the lycan’s knees as Ingle ground into his crack. Touching the man’s abs, Dirk breathed, “Gods, Justin.”

“Yeah, you want this, big boy?”

Dirk hummed. “Every inch. Give it to me the way you know how.”

Something changed in Ingle’s expression. The love’s still there, but he’s serious now. The roaming hands on his bare thighs were firm. Dirk no longer felt power in his position as the bottom. No… I think I’m in for—

“Roll over,” Ingle uttered.

With the urge to obey, the bear scooted further up the bed and got on his hands and knees. Feeling the movement on the mattress, he knew his mate approached. The warm palms kneaded his cheeks. Dirk nibbled on his bottom lip, then gasped as one of the hands smacked him. “Justin!”

“You wanted it my way,” Ingle said, grabbing the delta’s fatty flesh. “Now you gonna get it.”

The large cock slid against the bear’s crack. It’s so big, and… and I need it. “Give it to me.” Earning another smack, Dirk moaned as Ingle threatened to breach him. This isn’t like him at all. But I like it.

The kneading, grinding, and slapping continued as Dirk begged and pleaded. Justin has full control. He has me where he wants me, and all I want to do is please him. “Fuck me, Justin.”

His cheeks parted, and Ingle’s dick went away. Dirk knew what was next, and the moment the mouth landed, he arched his back. The lycan was obsessed his big booty. Ingle loved to squeeze it, slap it, and most of all, eat it. He was ravaging the bear, more than usual. The man was flicking his tongue across the hole, then slowly finding its way inside. As it twirled and swirled on the inner lining, Dirk clenched the sheets. With the lycan’s saliva going cold on the way down his ball sack, the delta needed more.

Ingle might as well have been a mind reader. After opening and closing the nightstand drawer in record time, a lid snapped and a slick finger prodded his hole. Contrary to what he expected, it slid right in. “J-Jus—”

The digit went out, then dove again. It was like nothing he ever experienced before. He felt the smooth skin brush against his sensitive walls. Dirk moaned, “More!”

Something larger came, and the strain was different than bliss. Tight!

He seethed for a moment before Ingle halted. “You good, baby boy?”

Hearing Ingle’s soothing voice, Dirk grunted, “Yeah, just got a big cock up my ass.”

“You’re cute,” Ingle laughed. “That’s just two fingers.”

You’re fuckin’— He looked behind him and saw Ingle’s arm. Y-yep. That’s fingers. Hell… What’s it going to feel like—

Ingle flexed, sending stars to Dirk straight to his loins. “Fuck…”

“There you go, Big D. Relax and loosen up.”

Leaning on his elbows, Dirk’s knees slithered further apart. Two fingers became three, and when they vacated, Dirk sensed it. It was time. There was a lingering intimidation factor, but his bear calmed him. It mate. Justin love us.

You’re right. He heard the bottle snap. Rolling over, Dirk growled as Ingle stroked his baseball bat-shaped cock. “I want to see my mate take me.” Holding back his knees, he exposed himself. His cock wept through the jockstrap’s fabric.

Ingle smirked. “You want to see me pound this ass? I’m gonna ruin you, just like this,” he held his dick and whacked it against Dirk’s thigh, “this ass’ll ruin everyone out there for me. You’re goin’ to be it, big boy.”

Pride surged through the delta. He wanted nothing more to make the lycan his and vice-versa. Even as Ingle’s manhood pressed against his hole, he was confident. “Nice and slow, Justin.”

Following the request, the head advanced agonizingly slow. Once the head popped in, Dirk gasped. All of the air left his lungs in an instant. The preparation was thrown out of the window, and the bear clutched the sheets to combat the pain. He remembered Vincent’s crucial instructions. B-Breathe! Just breathe. Touching Ingle’s abs, he kept the lycan from moving forward.

Ingle stroked Dirk’s sides. “You got this, big boy. I already feel you; you’re fuckin’ amazing in there.”

Hearing the words of encouragement, Dirk smiled and took a deep breath. Adjusting himself in his underwear, he nodded. “Let’s go.”

He felt the cock leave, only for the lube bottle to make another appearance. Going back in, there was no discomfort. Locking eyes with Ingle, the man never stopped. It was as if sparks flew as the man’s dick glided inside. When the wolf stopped, Dirk thought it was complete. The proverbial tablecloth was whipped out from under him as Ingle pulled back, then went deeper. In a jerk reaction, Dirk’s ankles dug into the back of Ingle’s knees, plunging the cock further.

Fireworks exploded in the man’s mind. He never thought having something so massive up his ass would be such a perfect sensation. So full. His hips are touching my ass. He’s all the way inside. “Justin,” he whispered.

Ingle rubbed the nooks between Dirk’s hips and thighs. “So good,” slurred the lycan. “You ready, big boy?”

Gyrating against the wolf, he growled. “Your way, baby.”

The serious expression came back, and Ingle took the bear’s knees from him. The man’s torso never moved, but Ingle’s hips moved back, taking his cock with him. As the lycan bit his bottom lip, he set a steady pace. Each pump left Dirk breathless. Every few seconds, he was stuffed full, only for it all to be taken away. Just before the last inch exited, it all creeped back in. “Harder, Justin. I need you,” he whined.

“Yeah, you want more? You’re all mine.” As Ingle spoke, his pacing quickened.

With Ingle’s hips slapping against Dirk’s, both men were grunting and moaning. Sweat added more noise to the contact. Just as the bear’s climax was building, the lycan pulled out. “Take that strap off.”

Dirk did one better. He stripped and took his original position on his knees and elbows. Hearing his mate growl, he knew Ingle was about to go nuts. Having the cock back where it belonged, Dirk spread himself as far as he could. It’s so good! I don’t care if I’m moaning like a little bitch, this shit’s mind-blowing.

Ingle’s hand landed hard on his right cheek. “Shit… Dirk, I’m close.”

Understanding the time was coming, he pushed up and stood on his knees. “Bite me. Make me yours.”

His sides were grabbed. Both of the men pressed against each other, and Dirk felt the hot breath on his neck. Here we go!

In the final pumps, Dirk’s orgasm built. When Ingle’s grip tightened, the lycan clamped down. Feeling the sharp pressure from the bite, the bear exploded across the bed. “Justin!”

Blood tricked down his shoulder and chest. He was mated and marked. As Ingle’s teeth released and dick slipped out, a cloth draped over the wound. “C’mon, big boy. Shift.”

Ignoring his mate’s instruction, Dirk pivoted and saw a loving concern on the man’s face. He could only smile. “You know, when I moved here, I never thought this is where I’d be. But I’m so glad Aliz gave you to me.”

“Yeah?”

Holding Ingle’s lube-covered hand, Dirk softly said, “You’re more than my destined, Justin. That was amazing. I almost want to bend back over for another round.”

Mouth bloody, Ingle grinned with a tear in his eye. Wiping it away, he chuckled. “Well, come on then. You’re still buyin’ dinner, and I gotta work up my appetite.”

Copyright © 2022 astone2292; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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18 minutes ago, Dan South said:

Obligatory follow up on Cyrus and Yakob. Fantastic sparring match. Vincent and mother-in-bond get us a step closer to the showdown and his fourth gift emerging…

Justin and Dirk? Damn. The absolute sexist thing I’ve read and it didn’t involve the protagonist. Mace either! Hot. Hot hot. Hot.

All three gay couples in this story are hot when in the sack, but Dirk and Ingle are on a whole other level. 

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