The full moon hangs high,casting its silver light across the landscape, and like clockwork, every lycan in the vicinity feels the pull. Their eyes catch the glow, reflecting that wild, ancient force, and their howls echo into the night something out of a memory refusing to fade.
Some of them give in completely, bones shift, muscles expand, clothes rip apart, it’s violent, always has been. Pain is part of the deal, but over time, you learn to move with it. You stop fighting the transformation and let it take you. It doesn’t hurt less; it just stops being a surprise. It becomes a steady, constant part of who you are.
Still, most of us don’t fully transform unless wehaveto. Sure, you’re top of the food chain when you do, but let’s be real, dealing with torn clothes and freaked-out bystanders isn’t exactly convenient for your average scuffle. But the full moon doesn’t care about convenience; it calls to something deeper in us.
A primal yearning that needs to break free, to run without boundaries, to feel the earth under your paws and the wind on your fur. Just instinct and the wild calling your name, and that’swhen it starts. What begins as a quiet ache becomes the hunt. You feel it in your chest, your gut, yoursoul.
It’s why the others lock their doors tonight. They know what we’re capable of, even when we try to hold back. I make my rounds as always. Checking the perimeter, conducting station patrols, and ensuring every key point is covered. The one on duty knows the deal: make sure no one dies, no buildings are damaged, and keep an eye out for suspicious activity. Step out of line, and they’ll have to deal with me. They’ve learned a long time ago how much of a good time it is, well, for me anyway, I am the General’s son after all.
Walking in the courtyard, relishing the tickle of the breeze. Finally, letting myself breathe. I spot Wyll across the room, between two girls grinding on him like he’s the last lycan in Kallahan. And judging by the stupid grin on his face and the way he’s chugging that beer, he’s living his best life.
Making my way over, I grab a drink from the ice bucket. When Wyll finally spots me, his eyes light up like I just handed him a Winchester Model 1873. He peels himself away from the girls and jogs over, all smiles and no shame.
“How was the meeting?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know how that crap show went down. I shoot him a look and down half the bottle in one go. Wyll knows damn well that whenever the General calls me in, I either walk out ready to punch a wall or crawl into a bottle, usually both. But hey, Wyll and I? We’re cut from the same jagged piece of wreckage, he gets it.
“That bad, huh?” He smirks. “Well, perfect timing, it’s big moon night! Let’s blow off some steam, the hunt’s calling.” He slings an arm around my shoulder, already steering me toward the tree line. We’re just about ready to shift and let the wolves out when a high-pitched voice coming from behind calls my name.
“Kai! Where were you? I’ve been looking for you all day.” Heather, of course. She pouts like that’s supposed to change something. I sidestep her grip without a second look.
“Not my problem,” I mutter, not bothering with courtesy, never been my strength. And right now, I’m not in the mood for drama, or fake concern, or whatever game she thinks we’re playing.
The moon’s high, and the hunt’s about to begin; my blood coursing through my veins is tainted with adrenaline and hunger. Let someone else play nice tonight because I know fordamnsure it’s not going to be me.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Heather says, sliding up beside me. Her head is almost to my ear now, standing on her toes, black hair brushing my shoulder, trying to own my personal space. It makes me want to shove her off, but I don’t; I hold on to polite pretense a bit longer.
“I can make you feelreallygood,” she breathes, her voice low. But whatever she’s selling, I’m not buying, not tonight. Nothing stirs, not even the usual itch, not even the ‘screw it, why not’kind of instinct.
Just… empty static.
I don’t care about Heather. Never have, she’s just easy, coming from the same world, where cubs are expected to act a certain way. She knows the rules: get in, and get out; nobody talks about feelings. But sometimes, she gets clingy, like tonight, especially tonight, the full moon not helping one bit. And when that happens, I remember why I should’ve said no from the start.
And lately, there’s a certain someone that I can’t stop thinking about. The honour belongs to a certain redhead with too much fire in her eyes and not enough sense to stay the hell out of my mind. She’s the kind of distraction I can’t afford. Unpredictable, wild, the kind of woman who makes you forget you’ve got responsibilities, orders, people to protect, blood tospill. And I can't have that. I can’t let anyone get under my skin like that; bad things happen when I get distracted.
But here I am, restless as hell and chewing on the feeling like a dog on a bone. So maybe Heather’s not what I want, but tonight, she’ll do the job. Feed the craving and shut my damn mind up. I finally glance her way, leaning into her space, my mouth grazing her ear. No warmth in my voice, just gravel and cold steel.
“Get on your knees.”
Her blue eyes flicker with surprise, and for a second, a hint of doubt crosses her face as she scans the area. We’ve never done this in public, but that doesn’t mean I’m new to this kind of thing. Honestly, nothing really bothers me anymore, and frankly, I couldn’t care less about her comfort right now. If she wants to go down this road, fine. I’m not gonna stop her, but part of me, just a tiny part, hopes that she’ll back off.
Give me an excuse to shut this down before it gets messier than it already is. Heather’s the only one around here pretending this agreement isn’t just a pretense, her and our stupid parents. Still, she lowers herself to her knees, reaching for my belt. Unzipping my pants, I feel a twitch in my briefs, half-hard. Part of it is the situation: public, a little bit of danger in the air, but the rest? Well, it’s just what happens when the scene's set and the game’s already in motion. No one’s paying us any attention, though. They’re all wrapped up in their own distractions.
Even Wyll’s in the middle of his own shenanigans. The two girls from earlier have him cornered against a tree. One is kissing him while the other has her hand shoved down his pants. The second girl is putting on a show for the crowd, fingers glistening, moving in and out of her friend. Wyll grabs her hand and sucks on her fingers before putting his own in her pussy. That’s what I’d call a love triangle. Or just another night in the life of lycans, ruled by nothing but the moon.
I refocus my gaze on Heather, finally freeing my cock from its restraint and putting it in her mouth. Her tongue is wet and warm, leaving a chill down my spine. A grunt leaves my lips, and I reach to fist her short hair. Directing her mouth to my balls, pushing her face in while my dick rests there.
Features partially hidden, giving me the perfect view for my mind to materialize deep red long curls twisted around my fist. Mesmerizing green eyes and lips so perfect it’s sinful. I shove my length in her mouth, loving her choking sound, making me rougher. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back, lost in my fantasy.
Avilyna on her knees for me, eyes wide, watering and choking on my length. Shutting her wicked, full mouth, barely fitting around my cock. Lost in my thoughts of the beautiful red hair that seems to have put a spell on me. Hexed me to become obsessed; my movements become rhythmic, mechanical, zoned in on instinct. And I’m ashamed to say that I quickly fill her mouth. Crashing back down from my average orgasm, I quickly sober up as I readjust myself.
“Thanks for that, Heather,” I mutter, my voice low as I stride past her, leaving her kneeling there all flustered, shouting after me.
“WHAT THE FUCK, KAI!”
That gets a laugh outta me. Being an asshole has always been in my blood; might as well fully own the title. Not about to kill Wyll’s buzz, I leave him to whatever orgasm he’s got going on and strike out on my own.
We hunt two deer,and being the son’s alpha, I get first dibs on the meat. My white fur is coated in blood, and my snout is no better. The copper tang fills the air, burning through my senses. My jaw snaps around the flesh. Snout digging into the meat, letting the earth drink the blood from our feast. Witness of the predators that we are. Deliciously addicting, a shot of pure vitality, and for a moment, I feel like I could take on the world. I’m scanning for our next kill when the land starts to feel familiar.
In my wolf form, everything’s a little distorted, but my other senses are sharp. I can smell it, the earth, the air, everything’s singing to me. Then, I catch something. A scent that’s starting to becometoofucking familiar. That’s when it clicks.
