He glanced back at me while he was walking, a tight hold on my arm as he pulled me after him, forcing me to match his pace.
I understood he was in a rush to get us back to his room, presumably to get shirts, which I was suddenly all for seeing the wide-eyed glances in our direction as Lowell, in all his shirtless glory, stormed through the hallways with me trailing behind him.
But my lower back was throbbing and each time I stepped a little too fast forward there was a pinch or stinging sensation that resulted in me limping as I tried to keep up.
"Do you want me to carry you?" He asked me slyly.
I frowned at him uneasily. "Don't."
He raised an eyebrow. "But you're limping," He said, feigning sympathetic emotion. "You're hurt."
I narrowed my eyes. "Lowell if pick me up I'll bite-" I frowned, stopping myself, watching his grin draw wider. "I'll..." What was there to threaten even, how did people threaten other people? I couldn't for the life of me remember how it worked.
"On that note." He slowed to a stop and turned around, about to reach out.
I backed up a step or two fast. "Lowell! We're next to your door, don't be ridiculous!"
He hummed. "Why does everything you say sound like you're daring me."
"I can assure you I'm not-" I didn't manage to finish what I was saying before he stepped up and reached out and picked me up and I yelped as I was lifted off my feet.
My arms struck out, just missing the door frame as he took me inside and I struggled, nearly falling sideways simply from trying to get back down as he rearranged me in his arms, my legs over one arm and his other arm under my back and arm.
"Good lord." I wheezed.
"You were limping." He mocked, biting my ear lightly as we moved inside and he kicked the door closed behind us.
I shivered, feeling and knowing just how sharp those teeth were as they lightly bit my ear, there was a tickle pleasure and of fear as I leaned into his chest a little.
"You don't listen to me." I complained, hearth thumping in my chest, my arms wrapped around his shoulders, not a terrible position to be in but part of my brain still doubted that it was possible for him to pick me up without falling over.
He scoffed, eyes blazing for a moment as he walked me to his bed and put me down on it with the kind of ease that came with mind boggling strength. "You don't listen to me." He argued. "And you should be listening to me. Who'd ever heard of a mate like you."
I frowned at him. "This all goes back to your brother's weird assertations about me needing to be submissive doesn't it."
He didn't say anything but he narrowed his eyes.
"If you'd really prefer I... behave that way, then I can always give it a go..." I mumbled.
He only continued watching me, eyes growing a little darker.
"I don't understand the need for it but I wouldn't would I?" He didn't answer. "Answer." I frowned at him.
His eyes made me uneasy for a moment, then he finally scoffed and shook his head.
"Fine, act submissive."
"Alright then." I felt somewhat egged on, then felt lost. "Well what am I supposed to do?"
He smirked slowly, climbing on onto the bed as well, leaning over me where I sat. "Say... 'Thank you my mate' and bow your head. That's what you'd say if I gave you something, or did anything for you."
That an odd line to say out loud but it sounded easy enough. "Thank you my mate." I said, then nodded. Well it was a bow but it felt more like a nod, then again what really was the difference.
He blinked at me, then scoffed loudly, a disbelieving look in his eyes. "What was that?"
"I did what you told me to." I replied accusatively.
"You nodded."
"Well..." I tried again.
"That's just a longer nod."
"There's no such thing as a long nod." I snapped at him.
He started laughing loudly. "Look at the tone you use with me."
"What? What kind of tone am I... You're younger than me." I bit out.
He continued laughing. "My dad's going to fucking hate you."
I glared at him. "What is it his business for goodness sake."
"That's just how our pack operates. We don't have non submissive pet- uh, mates."
"Why, our relationship works perfectly fine as it is."
"Yeah..." He looked a little baffled. "But it's not what I was taught. Not what I seen... A rebellious mate... Fuck, they made it sound like a death sentence." His eyes trailed over me, lingering on the mark on my neck. "It's not bad..."
Feeling a little hot I shifted under him. "Well... Once we're out of here it won't be a problem."
His eyes grew distant for a moment and he looked away, then back. "Yeah..."
"Yes?"
"Might have to stay longer, at least I might."
"Why?" I demanded. "I'm not going to leave you here alone, you must be mad if you think-" I began to accuse him.
"I know my dad." He interrupted. "I have a feeling..."
Feeling a little panicked by the idea of leaving him alone in this place, his reasoning, I figured, being that his father would find me intolerable which I was fairly certain he already did, I quickly addressed the matter. "I really don't see why I can't just pretend to be submissive. I'll practice." I smiled at him.
"You'll practice?" He replied, a little shocked, a laugh on his lips.
I nodded dutifully. "I'll say it the line you gave me. I'll say it properly."
"I don't think it works like that." He grinned slowly.
I wondered if, through some winded explanations, Jeff might let me know what he thought of my ability to be submissive. Although I knew he wouldn't understand what I wanted from him for even a second he was remarkably accepting of most quirks.
"I'll practice on someone." I nodded decisively.
The grin faded from his lips. "You'll what?"
"I'll get Jeffrey... I could tell him it's for a play..." I mused.
But he didn't look amused, a slight oppressive feeling in the air near him.
He climbed on top of me slowly and I let him because it felt good but I was simultaneously aware of the prickle in the atmosphere as he placed a hand on either side of me, broad shoulders covering my vision, a dark expression on his face.
His nostrils flared, his muscles flexing even as he appear still, his face tense.
"That wasn't the right thing to say." I surmised, a little on edge at the change in atmosphere, and a little more distracted by the irresistible form closing in on me, even as he struggled for a moment, with what I didn't know.
But he looked dangerous, down right dangerous, as much as I felt the need to respond with humour he looked startlingly intense.
"Do not..." He took a breath, the full weight of every word sounding strange from his lips. "Say those words..." He growled as he spoke, his teeth slightly bared, the moment I saw those fangs my heart thumped loudly, blood pumping in my ears. "To anyone else."
His fangs bared further as he growled my head raced, my chest felt tight with a kind of panic.
But in it all I looked up in his eyes and ended up somehow almost completely distracted, my heart racing as I tilted my head up fully.
My eyes grew wide. "Jesus..." I mumbled.
"Answer!" He bit out loudly and my heart jumped in my chest, my hand raising to my heart in defence.
My blood coursed through me, hotter than before. "Yes- Yes fine, of course. Yes." I replied hurriedly, my stomach flipping nervously, my cock filling out a little to the occasion, an unneeded side effect of the strange brutal voice and the intense eyes.
Definitely felt like a wolf on my lap all of a sudden, and I could feel the sharpness of his razor blade teeth from a distance.
He searched my eyes for something, I didn't know what, but I couldn't resist staring back at him, my own wide and astonished.
"How many colours can werewolf eyes turn into?" I asked him breathlessly, feeling a little winded.
"What?"
"How-"
He swallowed, looking a little awkward dealing with the extended fangs in his mouth. "Human eyes and wolf eyes. Just two."
"That can't be right..." I mumbled, heart still racing in my chest, my skin feeling a little of the former itch. "I could have sworn as a wolf your eyes were yellow."
"They are."
"But your eyes are red."
He was quiet for a moment, that moment then drawing out into a longer one as he stared down at me, blazing red eyes glaring down at me, something I never knew I would find as attractive as I did until I saw it on him. And now I knew I would never be able to unsee it, or unpair it from the fire that I felt looking up at him, that tickled the need that was beginning to feel unquenchable.
He closed his mouth slowly, observing me one last time before leaning down to kiss me so roughly I felt crippled by the rush of heat, pulling my knees slightly, putting a hand on his face to try to control the kiss but failing, forgetting and getting lost in it, my hand trailing through his hair as he mistreated my lips until I turned away, desperate to breath, my cock hard, my chest rising and falling fast.
"Break." I surrendered. "I didn't realise werewolves could breath in space as well."
He snickered, brushing his fingers roughly over my right nipple before finally pulling himself up off of me. "You need to learn to breath with your nose." He waggled his eyebrows, an easy comfortable mood suddenly filling the air.
"I know how to," I replied defensively, still struggling to settle down after the kiss. "Just not... when I'm being kissed like that."
"Like what?" He asked as he moved away from the bed.
I resisted calling him back, laying back on the bed slowly, trying to relax. "Violently." I denounced him.
He laughed as he rifled through his drawers.
I swallowed, stretching slightly in his bed, privately I wanted to at least turn to bury my face in the scent of him on the covers.
He saw me slowly sprawling out on his bed and glared at me.
"What?" I questioned him.
"What are you trying to do?"
I looked at the sheets and then back at him, shifting slightly. "Rest."
"That's not the way to get rest." He informed me with a sour expression as he pulled on a shirt that was either from year nine of secondary school or designed to work like spandex over his shoulders and chest. "That's the way you get fucked."
"Lowell..." I complained, sitting back up, the uneasy heat in me still not fixed, and while deep inside me the worst of the fire had been treated, there was still an uncomfortable longing that I wasn't even fully sure could be fixed, it seemed to endless, and words like that didn't help.
He ignored me moving toward the door.
"Now where are you going?" I asked with some alarm.
"To speak to my dad."
"I see..." I frowned and got up. "I'll come with."
He gave me a blank stare. "Max I'm not going to pretend I know how to tell you what to do but you're not coming, especially not without a fucking shirt."
"Right, right." I waved my hand about. "I can borrow one?"
He nodded. "Go through my shit, pick what you want." He said, opening the door to leave.
"Wait..." I mumbled, rushing toward the drawers.
"You're not coming with."
I looked back. "I'm putting on a shirt. I'm not fully free of manners, you know."
He scoffed. "You're not coming with until I know that my father won't rip out your throat when I tell him what I'm about to tell him. Won't fucking break your neck to make things easier for him."
Well, that was a bit of a cold shower for me. I sewed my lips shut for a moment. "Right... That doesn't leave me feeling overly happy letting you go to him alone."
"You can't keep forgetting that we're werewolves, not humans. You don't know what company you're around. And I hate to admit it, but my lack of control now means you're in a lot more danger than before... but I'll deal with it."
"Our lack of control." I mumbled, the memory of it still aching, I couldn't bring myself to regret it as much of an effort as I gave. "I'm fairly certain I haven't forgotten that you're... that." I mumbled, "Given recent occurrences."
He raised an eyebrow, a spark of humour in his eyes. "I'm going to settle it. I'll be back in an hour." He looked back at me from the doorway. "You can text me." He told me, a little more demanding than advisory, as he slowly closed the door behind him.
I couldn't even say the word.
'Werewolves' it sounded so ridiculous to say out loud. I didn't even make much of a habit of watching movies like that when I was younger. The idea felt so bizarre, and yet now that it was presented as reality it seemed so much a matter of course.
I sagged back onto the bed.
I saw the balled up shirt he'd pulled off a few minutes prior.
I groaned and buried my face in the covers.
Glanced at it once more and then finally pulled it on and climbed under them.
I saw my reflection in the mirror shaped like a rugby ball on the bookshelf to the left of the bed, with rugby lines running through it too, I had dark circles under my eyes and looked fairly terrible.
Hadn't slept properly in some time, that terrible heat had coursed through me like a permanent drug in my system and suddenly it felt as though every muscle that had been tensed the past week at least, had finally relaxed.
A slice of euphoria tickled my chest as I leaned into the soft duvet cover, cloaked in the scent, my bite mark pulsing, sending out the odd tingle if it brushed against anything.
I should have stayed awake, worried about Lowell going near that psychotic man.
But if I was completely honest I felt convinced he could handle himself. No one could topple him. It wasn't a feeling I'd ever really had about anyone else. He seemed to have an idea in mind. And I had the strange trust in me that if he thought it would work, it would.
If he took a minute longer than an hour I'd go and hunt him down myself, I thought to myself, exhausted as my eyelids dragged shut.
[A/N] Warm thanks to my patrons... („• ֊ •„) ♡
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