Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

He said, “Yeah, Ox. I’ll give you what you need. I’ll fuck you, okay? Just let me fuck you and—”

And he pulled away, then pushed back in. The bed creaked below us and he did it again and again, and we were both snarling at each other, my claws digging into his back, not caring if they pierced flesh.

He rolled his hips into me as he sat up, pushing my legs back against my chest until I was almost folded in half, just so he could look down and see his dick in me. He slowed, eyes wide as he watched me come apart beneath him. We’d been at this for hours, and I was too worked up to make this last much longer. For all his inexperience, he was a fast learner, doing things to me that caused my eyes to roll back into my head and my mouth to go slack.

But this wasn’t about fucking or just getting off.

This was about more.

So much more.

I could feel it building in the base of my spine. I didn’t try and stop the shift as it rolled through me.

Joe was the same above me, half-shifted and crying out as I clenched around him.

He said, “Ox, it’s almost time.”

I said, “Yes, okay, yes. Please, yes.”

Because we’d been building to this. This moment.

Ever since the day he’d handed me a box that held a little stone wolf inside and promised himself to me.

I snarled, “Do it.”

His eyes flashed red.

His fangs descended.

I came messily between us, tilting my head back, exposing my throat.

He whispered my name, said my name, shouted my name as he came in me.

And then he bit. Right in the space between my neck and shoulder.

There was pain, bright and glassy.

Then it faded, replaced with something different.

Something so much larger.

My eyes snapped open as I gasped.

Because it was more than I ever thought it could be.

It was everything.

His teeth slipped from my skin.

I could feel the blood oozing.

He was panting as he pulled back, lips as red as his eyes.

He said, “Oh my god.”

He said, “Ox.”

He said, “Ox, can you feel it? This is—I can’t believe we—after all this time we—”