Born Wolf - 7. Chapter 4.1

Kurt couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually felt nervous. Not properly nervous, anyway. There was tension before a hunt or a fight, the floating knowledge someone could get hurt. That was very different from what he felt now. Kurt Smith had never understood the phrase ‘butterflies in the stomach’ and he still didn’t. What was going on in there he had no idea, but it was like a deer was stabbing its hooves into his insides. Dominant wolves didn’t get nervous; at least that was what he tried to tell himself. But then, dominant wolves didn’t let their best friend dress them for their first date with the boy they wanted to mate with either.

Kurt’s human body was too thin and lanky to showcase the sort of clothes that would make someone like Tahryn look like a model in a magazine, and it had been too late to go shopping properly. Jene had driven him into town, getting there just before the shops closed. Kurt had never been clothes shopping, which was obvious because he sniffed at things and dropped them rather than putting them back on the rails. Jene had to remind him not to snarl when the lovely but tired sales assistant had given them her brightest smile. Eventually they had settled, or rather Jene had commanded and Kurt had settled, for black straight leg jeans with a leather belt, a white dress shirt and a slim fitted black waistcoat. Jene said skinny boys in waistcoats were hot, and Kurt agreed with her by grunting. Proud of his human body was not something he’d ever been. The wolf in him was unsure of the feeling.

Then there had been the hair.

“You are not wearing your hair like that.”

“Why?”

“Kurt you look like a nineteenth century pauper.”

“A what?”

“A village idiot.”

Kurt had snarled at that but backed down when Jene had approached him with steel scissors and an evil glint in her eye.

“There’s another way to wear it?” Kurt had allowed himself to be pushed into the chair and sneezed when Jene wrapped a towel around his shoulders. Her family used actual detergent in their washing, although a very mild one.

“Yes. Now hold still or you’ll be going in bandages.” When Kurt had flinched as she brushed his hair and she’d smacked him upside the head. “You like your ears the shape they are right?” After that Kurt had simply sat and let himself be messed with.

Now he was sporting an actual look, all his clothes fit, and Jene had done up his hair in what she called ‘a really sexy modern style’ with short back and sides, longer on top with a sort of messy spiky fringe she’d ‘textured’ with some all natural hair wax that smelt like bees and olives. He looked…different, and he felt weird. The temptation to shift and just be himself was overwhelming. Jene had put him under strict instructions not to and then imparted on him the wisdom of arriving at a date’s house will a bottle of wine, and usually flowers.

“Why on earth would I want to buy him flowers?” Kurt had stood in the aisle of the supermarket already holding wine which was apparently ‘very drinkable’ and the bags which contained his new clothes. He gaped at his only friend.

“He might like flowers.”

“Does Tahryn Spencer look like the kinda guy who would like flowers?”

“Well looks aren’t a great thing to go by if you’re going to go down that line.” Jene had lent over to inspect some roses and continued in a low but even voice no one would have noticed even if they’d heard it. “You don’t look much like you turn into a twelve stone wolf either but there you go. Don’t judge by appearances. You of all people should know that Kurt. And anyway,” she continued, “it’s so romantic!”

Now here he was, standing on the front steps of the Spencer house wearing clothes that smelt new and fit differently than anything he’d ever worn, with an apparently trendy haircut and holding a bunch of yellow roses. He felt like an idiot.

The door opened in a wall of scent so good Kurt instantly cursed the tighter cut of his new jeans. Tahryn smelt like spice and summer, the wind off the sea and forgotten fruit groves going sweet. His pale blue eyes went wide when he saw Kurt, and he found himself being stared at, slack jawed. It took all his effort not to turn the gaze into a challenge. Tahryn’s next youngest sibling put her blond head around her brother’s big shoulders and whistled softly.

“Well if you don’t look like a walking advertisement for the power of sexual attraction… Please come in Kurt. Don’t mind the drooling mess that is my brother.” She turned to skip into the house. “Kurt brought Tahryn flowers!”

“Sorry.” Kurt nearly dropped the roses in embarrassment but Tahryn took them from him. The touch of his fingers was like the crackling of his fur when a thunderstorm was brewing.

“No. They’re really nice. Thanks.” Tahryn smiled with his lips closed and sniffed at the yellow blooms. “At least they’re not pink.”

“They would have been if Jene had her way. I should have never let her talk me into it.”

“Look, you wanna come in?” Tahryn stepped back into the house and Kurt followed him, closing the door behind himself. “I can’t get over how different you look.”

“Is it bad?” Kurt had been half wondering if Jene was playing a practical joke on him. But she hadn’t smelt like she was lying. “I think I look ridiculous.”

“You look hot.” The words made Kurt flick his eyes up to lock with Tahryn’s husky gaze. He could smell the scent of lust and wanting coming off the other werewolf. His eyes widened in disbelief. “I mean, it’s good. I like it. Come meet the family.”

Tahryn house smelt very faintly of soap and general cleanliness, but that was overlaid with the myriad scents of himself and his sisters. Kurt could pick out all of them; Tahryn’s deep hot spiciness; Chaska’s peppered sweetness; Mehran’s softer more blended scent in yellow and gold; little Isla not yet turned for the first time, smelling like all wolf pups did, like sweet spring rain. It was a scent designed to bring out the protective instinct in other wolves. Whelan’s scent was thick and heavy, not touched with the sweet flavours of the sea like his son was and Kurt inclined his head ever so slightly to the higher ranking werewolf who he sat at the head of the dining room table, big arms folded on the waxed wooden surface. The whole room, though, was overlaid with the thick complex smells of roasting meat.

Kurt offered up the wine, which Chaska took from him with a smile, and Tahryn gestured for him to follow.

“Dinner is in ten minutes, Tay.”

“Sure sure.” Kurt followed Tahryn out of the kitchen where his family were assembled and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“Tay?” He asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

Tahryn shrugged.

“Cub nickname.”

“Can I call you that?” Kurt took a step forwards, chest and shoulders less than an inch away from the big tan werewolf. “It’s cute.”

Tahryn’s husky eyes flashed up, and he smiled. What could have been an adorable romantic moment was ruined as the bigger man began to push Kurt back towards the wall, intent on the sensation of his soft lips. Instinct broke and ran and Kurt suddenly found himself standing off against Tahryn, a growl leaking from between clenched teeth. Tahryn snarled back.

“Stop it Kurt. Not everything has to be a fight you know.”

Kurt growled and pushed at the boy who had become an immoveable block of muscle.

“If you didn’t want this I’d stop, but you do: I can tell.”

Kurt snapped his jaw. Tahryn’s big hand curved over the back of his skull, tilted up his head and kissed him. Kurt hands gripped Tahryn’s arms hard, finger nails raising welts in the skin under the jumper. Half of him wanted to throw the boy off and beat him until he cried for his presumption. The other half of him wanted to melt into a puddle of goo and let the big blond Viking kiss him until he was dizzy. Tahryn’s hand cupped his arse and his cock twitched in the too-tight housing of his new jeans and Kurt leapt away with a snarl that was a curse.

“Fucker.”

“Yes.” Tahryn’s voice was practically a drawl, confidence exuding from every muscle.

“I won’t submit to you!” Kurt spoke through clenched teeth.

“You will. You look sexy when you’re mad.” Tahryn half turned from him, the gesture was dismissive. “Come on, dinner.”

Kurt fumed. How dare the insolent little twit try and dictate the terms of their relationship? He had made the bid and laid claim against his mate. It was his decision to make, not the other boy’s. Kurt knew his wolf body was stronger than Tahryn’s, but like this, he was just a skinny little boy with visible ribs standing in a strange house full of people who were going to assume he was Tahryn’s bitch. The thought made his stomach churn.

Meal times in werewolf houses were often quite complex affairs. All wolves ate after their alpha had taken his share in order of ranking. When guests came for dinner things could get tense. Guests didn’t get offered food first unless they outranked all their hosts. Kurt didn’t outrank Whelan Spencer, but he was determined to use every moment to show his dominance over Tahryn.

Chaska directed him to a seat to the left of Whelan and laid the table with the platter of roasted birds. Kurt frowned.

“What are those funny coloured things?” Bowls of gleaming orange and white and green objects surrounded the meat.

“Vegetables.” Tahryn replied with a puzzled expression. “Do you not eat at your house?”

“Not if I can help it.” Kurt tracked Whelan’s movements as he chose the biggest of the poussins for his plate. It would be Tahryn next. Kurt waited until Tahryn had made his selection and was about to skewer the bird before he reached in and plucked it from his fork with bare fingers. He kept his eyes locked on Tahryn as he did it and the wolf took not a small delight in seeing Tahryn’s tanned features drain of colour. There was a long, long moment where the two young hormonal werewolves stared each other down and finally Tahryn flicked his glance away. It was an uneasy victory.

Either Merhan didn’t notice the tension or she simply didn’t care. She took the next roasted bird and started serving vegetables while she spoke.

“Dad said Alpha Canon made you an enforcer?”

“Yeah?” Kurt refused to let himself be fully distracted from his food by the conversation.

“That’s cool. Are you enjoying it?”

“Being an enforcer is not something you should really enjoy, Merhan.” Whelan Spencer answered while Kurt tore into his small chicken like it was going to run away. “It’s a hard job to do well.”

“Were you an enforcer for your old pack?” Kurt asked the question around the meat in his mouth, studiously avoiding the vegetables which he didn’t quite trust. His mother’s insistence that he eat them had never been met with anything other than a growl.

“No, Dad’s in pack negotiations.” Chaska chipped in. “He’s really good at making people see eye to eye when they don’t really want to.”

“Oh.”

“Like you two.” Isla piped up and it was pretty much a race between whose growl was more angry, Tahryn’s or Kurt’s.

“I told you not to say that.” Chaska reached out and cuffed her littlest sister gently.

“Boys are so silly.” Isla smoothed her straight sun blonde hair back behind her ears and looked at her brother as though he was a silly puppy. “I am so never having a mate if this is what it’s going to be like.”

Kurt dropped his growl and stared at his nearly empty plate. There wasn’t much of the carcass left. He ate the cartilage and softer smaller bones even in his human shape. The little pup had seen straight through him though. The tone of voice from one so young, who could not be involved in the continued power games which seemed at the moment to be all Kurt Smith had ever known, had been as hard to deal with as the lust and instinct war that went on under his skin whenever he looked at Tahryn. Even he could tell, with his lack of social niceties, this meal was not going very well. He needed Tahryn to like him. He needed Tahryn’s family to like him.

It had been a long time since Kurt had last cared what other people thought of his behaviour.

*

Whelan had watched the Smith boy carefully from the moment he’d stepped into the house. He hadn’t been surprised when his only son had turned out to be gay. For a blink-fast second he was sad his son wasn’t going to be continuing the Spencer bloodline in the traditional sense, but Whelan had been generally pleased with the kind of man his son was turning out to be. Never had he figured his son would find his mate in the hot blooded, short tempered and downright unusual wolf that was Kurt Smith.

Kurt had been someone he was warned about, by both the other members of the council and by his new Alpha. Kurt was a very level headed wolf. Wolf. Not werewolf. For all that he could change forms and be human shaped the boy was definitely not a well-adjusted person. He was a wolf who could alter the way he looked. His theft of the poussin had been a crafty and well executed manoeuvre, designed to deliberately snub Tahryn in front of his family. For a heartbeat Whelan thought he was going to have to get his daughters out of the room before fur and cutlery went flying. Tahryn had backed down, but only just.

Whelan could smell the tension between the two boys, running like an electric current every time their eyes met. Both of them were dominant personalities, both vying to be literally top dog. As a point of pride Whelan wanted his son to be recognised as the dominant one in the relationship, but he could practically see Kurt’s mind turning, running out of safe things to talk about and discuss that wouldn’t force the issue between them. It looked like the Smith boy was serious, as though there could have been any doubt. Whelan didn’t make it a habit of being scared by younger werewolves, but when Kurt had thrown Koby into the council meeting his eyes had been hard and wild. His shift was half a heartbeat away the entire time, the wolf in him almost visible in his anger. At that moment Whelan could have easily imagined Kurt going feral and shredding everything in sight, and lord the boy was strong enough. Kurt might not be much to look at, though his new put-together look suited him well, but as a wolf he was frighteningly strong. Whelan had seen it in him at the meet, and again in the injuries he had given Philip Tanner. As an ally Kurt was powerful. If he took it on himself to challenge Degan, there would be nothing the older wolf would be able to do to stem his fury. His bid for Tahryn had been unexpected, but Whelan could tell the boy meant what he said. You could see it in the set of his tawny eyes, the scent of his son had taken root in the boy’s skull. The older Spencer smiled to himself at the head of the table as Chaska began to clear away the dishes. That scent would continue to drive him mad until the boys were properly mated.

His wife had been his mate. When Mara had died bringing little Isla into the world Whelan had wondered in very real terms how he would carry on. For many days he had spiralled towards his own death. He hadn’t seen his newest child, refused to touch her and feel happiness. His mate was gone. It was as though he had suddenly started trying to live with only half a beating heart. It hurt. It was not uncommon for wolves whose mate had died to follow them into the spirit world. Whelan’s cubs had been left to fend for themselves. The Werburgh had not had good staffing, not even in the old days, and Tahryn had looked after his sisters well for a child of seven. He and Chaska had fed and changed their new sister, had sent Merhan to school and cleaned up the house.

Tahryn had saved him. Whelan loved his son, couldn’t bear to leave the boy who bore half the scent of his mate. The sweetness and sun on sand and salt scents came from his wife. Every night as he mourned his mate, Tahryn had curled up under his arm, pressed against his body, and slept with him so he would not be alone. When he’d stepped back out into the light of day, his new daughter was three weeks old, his other children were pale and worn, and somehow the pain in his heart had eased.

Whelan Spencer knew his son and his future mate were going to have to accept each other one way or the other. Their scents would drive each-other mad, and they were both possessive and strong. It would not do to let their strength of feeling go to waste. Whelan shook himself from his thoughts in time to see Kurt poke suspiciously at his dessert.

“What the heck is this?”

“Chocolate fondant.” Isla was pouring cream on hers. “You never had one before?”

“No.”

“These ones are chilli chocolate.” Merhan explained.

Kurt took his spoon, awkwardly, and cut into the oozy pudding. He ate, carefully, and then fixed Tahryn with his gaze.

“It tastes like you.”

“What?” Tahryn stared at the beautiful slender boy he had brought into his home. A decision he had been regretting no matter how much Kurt’s scent drove him nuts.

“It would need salt, and somehow the feeling of the sun on the sea. But it tastes like you.” Kurt took another bite which removed half the chocolate chilli fondant from existence and swallowed with an expression that made Tahryn instantly hard.

God, d’you reckon he’d make that face while sucking your cock? Tahryn let his thoughts run away with him for a moment as he watched Kurt. He looked like he had when he’d been asleep, passed out from the pain in his arm from Philip’s bite, but better. Awake Kurt was hard and flinty and it was sexy as dammit all. When he closed his eyes like that it was easy to see the softness in him. The pleasure on his face was inspiring and Tahryn hoped he wouldn’t have to get up for a few minutes.

“You’re funny, Kurt.”

“I am?” Kurt looked surprised at Merhan’s words. “And how do you like being a wolf then?”

Merhan had hit puberty relatively late, and had only been switching forms for six months. It was still difficult for her, an act of concentration that came with a nice big dose of pain.

“I love it, but I hate the actual change. It hurts. Did it used to hurt you when you first started switching?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t really remember it very well. It doesn’t hurt now and I’m the fastest shifter in the pack.” Kurt’s voice was touched with pride. “Hell I can shift while jumping through the air. You have to get the landing right though, or you end up with a muzzle full of leaves and dirt.”

“Icky,” was Isla’s reply.

“That’s so cool. You reckon you could teach me?”

“Dunno. You’d need to be able to change without having to work at it first. Might be a few more years before you get it all settled out.”

Tahryn smiled into his pudding. Maybe this had been a good idea after all. Kurt was nice to his sisters. He wasn’t pissed by Merhan’s probing questions and she asked him more about how his wolf life was for him. He thanked Chaska for cooking for him. Then he stood up and jerked his chin at Tahryn in a clear gesture which even the dyslexic boy could read. The big blond werewolf stood and followed the musky damp moss scent of Kurt out into the back garden. The boy was standing there, staring up at the sky. There were no stars tonight, and the air was thick with moisture, the doom of impending rain. Spring was not starting much the way it should.

“I like your sisters.” Kurt had his thumbs hooked in the tight pockets of his new jeans. He didn’t look at Tahryn, but the bigger wolf could feel himself being tracked as he moved across the patio and onto the lawn. “I meant what I said in there, you know.”

“I know.” Tahryn wanted more than anything to close the distance between them with a few strides and wrap himself around the skinny young man, “I don’t think you can lie. Can you?”

“Sure I can.” Kurt took a deep breath and Tahryn stared at the shape of his body in his new fitted clothes, “I secretly sort of like my new look. You tell Jene that and I’ll rip your ear off.”

“Jene Camra did it for you? Figures.” Tahryn took a step forwards, and shoved his own hands in his pocket to stop himself from reaching out and wrapping his arms around the man who smelt like nature. “We need to talk about this.”

“I know.”

“I wanna make a bid for you too.”

“What?” Kurt’s single word was somewhere between a snap and a snarl.

“I can’t just belong to you Kurt. I want to but I can’t. You have to belong to me too.”

Kurt growled.

“Oh would you fucking quit it?” Tahryn snapped. His patience had run out. He wanted Kurt, needed the touch of him more than he wanted to keep breathing. He desperately wanted to possess the scent that drove him wild with wanting, but Kurt’s refusal to even try and talk about it was wearing him out. “Unless we both want to spend the rest of our lives unhappy and being driven mad we have to sort this out. Stop being such a fucking child!”

“Back off!” They were both shouting now, facing off across two metres of grass in the damp chilly spring air. Tahryn could feel his dominant instincts rising like bile in his throat. What he didn’t feel was the desire to just solve the problem by turning and having a good old fashioned tussle until one of them gave in. He wasn’t sure Kurt as a wolf would let him live.

“No.” Tahryn’s voice was so low it made his whole body vibrate. “I’m not backing off any more than you are. You want me, I can tell, my nose works just fine.” He could feel the rising lust coming off Kurt, hot and rich like salted caramel. The other boy burned for him.

“I am not submitting to you!” Kurt was vibrating with his anger, his hands clenched into fists so hard his short nails were cutting his skin. The scent of his mate’s blood drove Tahryn just a little bit further out of his skull. Tahryn stepped closer, bringing the gap between them nearly to a close. Kurt’s body inclined towards him, just a little, and Tahryn was sure of his guess.

“But you want to don’t you?” His voice was a low whisper, husky and rough as he realised the images which went through his own brain were not that far from the things which Kurt had been imagining as well, “You want me to take you and possess you,” Tahryn’s lips were inches from Kurt’s skin, their bodies millimetres from touching. Tahryn thought he might burn himself on the furnace heat between them. “You want me to fuck you.”

“No.” Kurt’s voice was small, quiet, and unsure. He trembled, and Tahryn decided to press home his advantage. He angled his head, shut his eyes and kissed the boy we wanted to be mated to.

For a period of time, longer than an age and less than a heartbeat, everything was just as it should be. Kurt tasted hot and musky and sweet like the new buds of flowers. His body pressed against Tahryn’s and every curve of bone and muscle fit perfectly together, like they were made to stand together in the garden under clouds heavy with rain. Everything was just perfect.

Tahryn tasted the sharp tang of the wolf without enough time to even think to do anything about it and then Kurt hit him. Fist connected with skull and though Kurt wasn’t strong he hit with feeling and Tahryn staggered back, seeing stars, his vision blurring. Kurt didn’t even stop to look at him, but was tearing at his clothes as he turned on his heel. The waist coat and shirt survived to be left on the ground, but shoes, socks, belt, jeans and underwear became nothing more than a pile of scraps as he crunched into the big black wolf that had haunted Tahryn’s dreams. The wolf sprang away towards the woods as the heaven’s opened.

It was the sort of rain that made you as wet as falling in the sea in three seconds flat, and that was all the time Tahryn needed to decide he was not going to let this end the same way again. Three times now, Kurt had run away from him. Every time he had let him to it, had let him leave and walk away, and he had felt awful for doing so. Not this time. The big blond boy with wet hair plastered to his skull stripped himself out of the clinging wet wool, shucked his jeans and boots and stepped naked into the rain. He could still smell Kurt despite the rain. The young werewolf’s scent was seared into his mind. Back in Werburgh, older wolves had told stories of what it was like to meet your mate, and they all agreed on just one thing; their scent would drive you nuts.

Tahryn shifted. Muscles bunched and tore, skin ripped, bones broke and reformed. Teeth lengthened and changed, vision spun, ears grew, fur sprouted. Scents took on colours, the world changed, and Tahryn stepped forward on paws tipped with short pale nails, digging into the soft ground. The blond wolf closed his eyes and scented the air; the wet wash of the rain; the needle sharp violent coloured scents of chemicals, oil, rubber; the soft groan of things growing, the tree roots under the ground; the scent of his family, his direct kin, all soft and friendly, welcoming; red lust overlaid with yellow fear; the scent of his mate, dark and sweet and thick with musk. The sand coloured wolf growled. Kurt would know, the black wolf would smell him through the rain. Tahryn put his head back and howled. It was a call of wanting and possession and anger. And he knew Kurt would understand.

Tahryn leapt forwards into the woods, following the scent of the wolf who would be his mate. He kept his nose low, shoulders level and he ran as fast as he could and keep his footing. The rain had not eased off in the slightest and the ground, even though it was protected under the trees, was getting slippery very quickly. Stones moved and threatened to overturn him or twist his ankles, but Tahryn kept up the punishing pace. To his surprise, Kurt’s trail did not lead up the hill towards his little copse with the flat stone but bent and twisted exactly as if the bigger wolf was running scared without a logical thought it his head. Tahryn followed every turn, working around in a loop that covered the back of the cul-de-sac. Several times it came into view of other houses and the scents of his pack-mates. Tahryn was still learning all the scents of his new pack, but there were several he could pick out easily. The Tanner’s were all a mix of browns and green; Jene Camra, Kurt’s best friend, had a scent like lavender and lemon, pale and fresh; Degan Canon, the pack’s alpha, smelt like power and wood smoke. Kurt’s trail bent in that direction and Tahryn found himself standing in his alpha’s back garden, soaked way past the point of just being outright wet, his vision filled with the big black wolf with the honey brown eyes.

He snarled. Kurt joined the growl, his vocal chords half an octave lower now he was a wolf, and sprang. Tahryn was a big guy, and turned into a decent sized wolf. But Kurt was a law unto himself and for such a lanky skinny human he turned into the biggest wolf Tahryn had ever seen. Kurt snapped at him, his teeth closing on nothing but air and Tahryn snarled. The fight was joined. The two wolves circled each other in the pouring rain, growling and snapping, sharp feet raising splashes and puddles on the soaking grass. Tahryn flicked his tail and stalked Kurt as though he was prey. But the big wolf waited. His toffee coloured eyes glittered with anger.

Tahryn took the chance, his shot at dominance and darted forwards, closing his teeth on the leg Kurt had damaged previously. It was an evil thing to do, and his mate’s cry of pain stabbed him through the heart. But Kurt was strong and he was clever and he twisted his head to slash Tahryn’s shoulder, leaving a gash of blood and open flesh in the pale fur. Tahryn sprung back, the taste of his mate’s sweet blood in his mouth a small victory compared to the pain in his shoulder. They circled again, both limping very slightly and trying not to show it.

What the hell are you doing? He growled at himself inside his skull, He’s stronger and bigger than you and for once Henry Tanner was right. You ain’t winning anything. Tahryn shook his head to dispel the thoughts. He wanted to have Kurt under him, whining and wriggling on his cock. But in his head Kurt was human. He’s a big sexy wolf, his inner voice said again. Just turn around and wave your tail and let him have you. It’ll be awesome. For a moment he nearly did it too. Kurt growled again and Tahryn leapt forwards to slash at him again. Kurt blocked him with his body, and Tahryn found himself bowled over in the grass and mud and rain. Pain shot up his shoulder, made him want to hurl or change back, and Kurt was standing over him, teeth closed in his throat, one paw resting half his weight on his belly, sharp nails digging into tender flesh. Kurt snarled and Tahryn’s ears laid back and he whimpered.

Kurt growled against his fur, hot breath on his skin, a weird counterpoint to the cold sheeting rain and Tahryn felt himself grow hard in his sheath. The scent of the boy he wanted as his mate filled his nostrils along with the mixed headiness of blood and his own lust. Kurt had won. At least as a wolf, Kurt had won the fight. He was dominant and Tahryn somehow didn’t mind. He whined, practically begging, felt his tail wag from side to side on the wet grass. Kurt’s teeth were still closed on his throat, perilously close to ripping him open and leaving him to bleed to death. Kurt growled again, but the sound was low, almost a huff, and Tahryn felt his body vibrate with the sound.

“Well, well, well…” The powerful sound of their alpha’s voice made Tahryn squirm and roll his eyes until he could see the big man standing in the back doorway of his house, upside down from Tahryn’s perspective. Kurt hadn’t let him go, “I think you two better come in hadn’t you?” Kurt huffed against the skin of his throat and Tahryn hissed at the chill of the rain on his hard prick as he peaked out of his sheath. “Kurt let him go. You won. Now git!”