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The honeyed scent of ripe peaches hit Lycaon first, followed by the unmistakable metallic tang of blood.
He’s familiar with the sweet smell of an Omega in heat, had indulged himself with the soft curves of their body and melodious sighs back when he was still untamed and rough around the edges. But this— this is different. The sweetness was laced with the sharp scent of injury.
It made his teeth ache with the urge to both savor and devour.
Naturally, he craned his head toward the source of such a tantalizing meal.
In the shadowy corner of a desolate street, where no one would think to come upon a treasure, a figure leaned against the wall, shivering.
A dark fabric, draped over their head, concealed their features. But even from a distance, Lycaon could feel the undeniable pull, the inviting promise of a successful hunt. Against his better judgement, he took a step forward. Then another. And another.
The more human, rational part of his brain knew this was a bad idea. To tempt himself with the low-hanging fruit he would usually ignore. He could walk away and forget the haze that came from the cloying sweetness.
But.
Lycaon reached a hand out toward the figure.
The unruly part of him, one usually buried deep within layers and layers of restrained, screamed at him to take, and take, and take —
Lycaon cleared his throat, tamping down the growl rumbling in his chest.
“Are you feeling alright?”
A pale hand shot out, slapping his away with surprising strength.
“Don’t touch me.”
The fabric slipped from their head, and Lycaon’s breath hitched.
Under the embrace of the moonlight, the figure’s pale hair glowed with an ethereal sheen. Rabbit ears twitched atop the silken strands, swiveling at the faintest sounds. But what truly caught Lycaon’s attention was the pretty flush on their dainty face, the way it trailed down a slender, tempting neck that made his mouth water.
An angel. He thought. Mate, his instinct supplied.
“My apologies.” Lycaon placed his offending hand over his chest and dipped into a bow. “I saw you trembling and wondered if you were in need of assistance.”
The petite man narrowed his eyes at him, roiling sea waves held within his gaze, as though Lycaon was standing on the precipice of a headland. He could almost feel himself tipping forward, willing to fall and drown himself in the tempest—
“Spare me your pretty words,” the Omega bit out, his voice cutting but tinged with exhaustion. “I know exactly what you want.”
The jab didn’t hurt. If anything, it stoked the flames of desire further. Those lips, pink and trembling, weren’t just made for sighs and pleas—they could wound too.
And Lycaon had always loved when his prey fought back. It made the eventual reward that much sweeter.
“Perhaps,” he said, his voice low, smooth as velvet. “But wanting isn’t the same as taking. I do not wish to harm you.”
Lycaon’s gaze flickered toward where the Omega’s nails were currently digging into his own arm. Beads of blood trickled down the pale skin, a sight that was equally hypnotizing as it was maddening for his limited control.
“Nor do I wish for you to continue hurting yourself,” he said after a long moment, his tone gentle as he forced himself to meet the Omega’s piercing stare.
Lycaon could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his ears fell flat on his head, the defiance in his posture—and the slight tremor in his hands.
“Then take a step back from me,” the Omega said finally, though his voice cracked ever so slightly.
The command cut through the air like a blade. Lycaon found himself obeying without a word, retreating just enough to ease the tension.
The Omega blinked, his lips parting slightly, as though startled by his compliance.
That reaction was not surprising to see. Here he was, a predator animal, an Alpha, taking orders from someone on the opposite end of the spectrum, prey and an Omega. It must have been a sight for anyone who may have taken a glimpse of the darkened corner.
Lycaon didn’t care for the opinions of people he had no concern for. Not when the pretty Omega before him seemed to relax by a fraction when he remained still on his spot, save for the slightest swish of his tail at the undivided attention.
The storm in those seafoam-green eyes was quieter, less volatile but no less intense, like the false receding of the waves before an incoming catastrophe.
What a beautiful catastrophe would the two of them be.
“You’re full of surprises,” the Omega remarked, his pink lips curving into a smile that Lycaon knew left devastation in their wake.
The man’s grip on his wounded arm loosened slightly, and without the pain overriding the haze of his heat, the scent of peaches grew thick and heady, drowning out the sharp undertone of blood. Lycaon could feel his restraint slipping, the primal hunger clawing at the edges of his control.
Yet, he didn’t move further, didn’t press, though every fiber of his being screamed at him to close the gap back.
Patience.
Lycaon allowed himself a faint smile, one he knew would reveal just enough teeth. “I’m always aiming to please someone as captivating as you.”
The Omega scoffed at his words, though the sound was soft, almost drowned out by his unsteady breathing. "You and your sweet words," he muttered, shaking his head. "Have you ever wondered if you'd choke from it one day?"
Each heave of Lycaon’s breath filled his lungs with the sickly sweetness in the air, wrapping around his throat until that’s the only thing he could taste on his tongue.
He didn’t mind choking on it.
“Sweet things are meant to be indulged on,” Lycaon said smoothly, his singular eye raking over the increasingly trembling figure before him with muted hunger.
The Omega’s stare shifted into something calculating, and his smile felt like a dagger waiting to strike. “Is that so?”
Despite the haughtiness in his tone, there was no hiding the way his legs quivered beneath him, the way he leaned heavily against the wall for support. His cheeks were getting increasingly flushed and the glimmer of sweat on his brow betrayed the effort it took just to keep standing.
Lycaon knew the Omega’s heat was worsening, and the blood loss wasn’t helping his case either. Sooner or later, he’d fall over and collapse completely. And his instinct must have consumed his brain more than he thought because the idea of it only made his heart pounded faster in anticipation.
A beast, no matter how polite he looked, is still a beast.
“Indeed,” Lycaon replied, forcing himself to sound steady, as though his composure wasn’t fraying at the edges. “It would be a waste to not do so, wouldn’t it?”
The Omega’s lips parted, a sharp retort clearly on the tip of his tongue, but the words never came. Instead, his knees buckled, and for a split second, his eyes widened in panic.
Lycaon moved on instinct, closing the distance in a heartbeat to catch the Omega before he hit the ground. He was lighter than expected, his body feverishly warm against his arms. The honeyed ripe peaches hit him full force, clouding his senses and tugging at his most primal instinct. His gaze zeroed on the pale expanse of slender neck, a perfect canvas to where he could leave his marks.
By the sheer force of will alone, Lycaon managed to keep himself from sinking his teeth in.
A growl still managed to leave the confinement of his mouth.
The Omega's breath hitched, and for a moment, he was still, his body tense as if caught between instinctive flight and the need to surrender. His silken ears twitched faintly against Lycaon’s jaw, brushing soft and warm.
"...Let me go," he eventually muttered, though the fight in his voice had weakened.
"You're burning up," Lycaon said softly, the fevered heat radiating from the body in his hold. “Any effort for you to leave will be futile in this state. Unless you have a safe place I can take you to?”
For a moment, there was only silence, broken only by the Omega’s ragged gasps. Then, weakly, he muttered, “None.”
His eyes fluttered shut and he promptly fell limp in his arms, his body finally succumbing to the strain. The Omega’s head lolled against his shoulder, his breathing shallow but steady.
In the quietness of the night, Lycaon simply stood there, cradling the unconscious Omega against him, his gaze lingering on the delicate features now slack with exhaustion. Without the defiance hardening his face, the soft moonlight made him seem impossibly fragile.
With his mate in his arms, his rumbling instinct was settled, however temporary it was.
“Rest, little rabbit,” Lycaon muttered, adjusting his hold to tuck the Omega deeper in his embrace as if such acts could shield him from the harshness of the world.
The streets stretched out before him as he began walking, dark and empty, but he didn’t falter.
He would ensure the Omega saw the dawn, preferably as someone he could call his .
Lycaon brought him to the only place he knew would be safe from prying eyes.
His apartment.
He lowered the Omega onto the bed, gentle as to not disturb his slumber. The man stirred slightly, a faint whimper escaping his lips as his brow furrowed in discomfort. Lycaon reached out tentatively to brush a stray strand of silken hair from the Omega’s flushed face. The rabbit ears twitched, but he could feel, rather than see, the way the man leaned into his touch. Tension slowly ebbed from his frame, and his breathing steadied.
Something in Lycaon’s chest tightened, a sensation both foreign and oddly pleasant.
Mate. His instinct whispered, this time soft and sated.
The younger him had scoffed at the idea of it— the concept of it had been nothing but another shackle attached to the gilded cage crafted by the unjust world. But now that he’s older, with weary bones and none of the rebellious fury that used to consume his every waking moment, the thought struck differently. It wasn’t a chain anymore. It was a knock on a door he’d almost forgotten existed—a yearning for something he never truly had.
A home.
Maybe all these years of searching would finally come to an end.
The coppery tang of blood dragged him back to the present, sharp and insistent. His gaze fell to the Omega’s arm, where crimson stained pale skin. The wound was deep, angry, and raw. The scent of it clawed at Lycaon’s mind, stirring his primal urges back to the forefront. Hunger surged to the surface and he clenched his jaw as the battle within him began.
To provide. To plunder.
The warring desires wrestled for control, but sentimentality won out in the end.
Without another word, Lycaon left the room to procure some of the much needed medical supplies. Upon returning to the bedside, he knelt beside the Omega and began tending to the wound. His touch was careful, his claws trimmed in an effort to not further aggravate the torn flesh.
The Omega didn’t stir even once as Lycaon worked, his chest rising and falling steadily. So vulnerable, so trusting despite his earlier defiance. It made the space in Lycaon’s heart ache anew.
When the wound was cleaned and dressed, Lycaon settled in an armchair not too far from the bed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He studied the Omega’s face—the gentle slope of his button nose, the delicate curve of his pink lips, the faint crease between his brows finally fading.
He looked peaceful.
The knot in Lycaon’s chest loosened. He took a book on his side and set on keeping vigil.
It took one tapered candle to be halfway burned before the Omega finally stirred.
Lycaon heard the soft shuffle of movement, his ears flicking at the sound. The Omega shifted on the bed, his rabbit ears twitching lazily as consciousness crept in. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing a pair of irises clouded with confusion.
For a moment, the Omega stared at the ceiling, as if trying to piece together where he was and why. Then his gaze slid sideways, landing on him.
The air in the room seemed to still.
Lycaon smiled in greeting. “You’re awake.”
It seemed to trigger something inside the Omega because he shot up, hands frantically patting over his body before his fingers brushed against the bandages on his skin. That successfully calmed him somewhat as their eyes locked together: wine-red being reflected off the bottomless green of the sea.
“If you’re wondering whether I touched you in your sleep, rest assured I did not,” Lycaon said, snapping the book he was holding shut. Rising from his chair, he knelt by the bedside to avoid towering over him. “How are you feeling?”
The Omega regarded him with wary eyes, though a flicker of something else passed over his face. “...I’m fine. Thank you for tending to my wound.”
Now, with the Omega fully conscious, the sweet scent of ripe peaches flooded the room, smothering Lycaon until his vision blurred. A low growl rumbled in his throat, unbidden. His teeth ached. A cacophony of his restrained urges clamored in his mind.
To press the man into the bed and utterly, undoubtedly claim him. To leave marks on that pale canvas and taste crimson ichor trickling down from them. To bring the man into the edge, again and again, until his name was the only thing leaving those sinful lips in beautiful sighs and moans.
“I should leave.”
Those three words doused him in icy cold fear, snapping him out of his lust-addled daze.
Lycaon didn’t whine, but the sound that escaped his mouth came painfully close.
The Omega froze mid-movement, the urgency in his actions faltering.
“I would advise you against such action,” Lycaon said, wrestling his voice into something resembling human and not the rabid growling of a beast. The effort left his tone husky, betraying his inner struggle.
The scent of ripe peaches had grown impossibly sweeter.
The Omega’s back was to him, his rabbit tail wiggling temptingly. Lycaon couldn’t see his face, but the tremor wracking through his body was unmistakable. Yet, when the Omega spoke, his voice was level, almost thoughtful.
“And why not?”
The urge to pull him close and hold him tight nearly made Lycaon howl.
“It might be rude of me to say,” he began, blunt claws digging into the sheets to ground himself, “but when I found you, you could barely stand from your heat. Venturing back into the streets in your current state would draw the attention of less... considerate Alphas.”
Silence fell, heavy and oppressive. For a moment, Lycaon feared his desperation had shredded the thin veneer of propriety he clung to.
But then a soft laugh broke the stillness—breathy and melodic. It rippled through the room, sinking into Lycaon’s bones like sunlight after a long winter.
“Are you suggesting I should spend my heat with a considerate Alpha like you instead?”
The Omega still had his back toward him, but the look he sent over his shoulder was enough to make Lycaon rise—no, scramble —to his feet.
“While that would be lovely, I do not wish to impose myself on you.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, daring hope to bloom in his chest. “I merely state the dangers you might face beyond this door.”
The Omega turned fully then, his expression light yet dissecting, as though weighing Lycaon’s worth with every passing seconds. Finally, as if he had deemed him worthy, the ever-present wariness in those seafoam-green eyes melted away.
The smile appearing on the Omega’s face was akin to a slow-acting poison, one that Lycaon would willingly ingest and let it stop his heart.
“You’ve made a fair point,” the Omega purred, crawling forward on all four with a fluid grace that made Lycaon’s breath hitch and head flood his veins. “So, save your pretty words, my dear wolf.”
My dear wolf. It echoed in his mind like a mantra, unravelling him thread by thread. Lycaon had to grab his tail to prevent it from swishing uncontrollably. He couldn’t imagine if those pink lips curled to form the syllables of his name instead.
Damnation had come sooner than expected.
The Omega sat back on his knees and stared up at him from beneath silvery eyelashes—a perfect blend of coyness and allure. Something in Lycaon cracked. Instinctively, he knelt, his knees hitting the floor as though before a god who demanded his soul as tribute.
Soft hands cradled his face, and the smile that greeted him felt like a sin wrapped in sunlight.
“What’s your name?” the Omega asked, his voice low, intoxicating.
“Lycaon,” he uttered, barely above a whisper, as if speaking might shatter the fragile thread connecting them. “You can call me Lycaon.”
The Omega hummed, his fingers brushing through Lycaon’s fur in lazy, indulgent strokes. “Lycaon.”
The name rolled off his tongue like a prayer. In that moment, Lycaon surrendered completely, his heart laid bare to be cradled, consumed, or crushed in those tender hands.
He didn’t care which.
“What about you?” Lycaon asked softly, his voice a careful blend of curiosity and reverence. He didn’t want to push too hard, didn’t want to scare him off when he could taste his reward hanging just within reach.
The Omega tilted his head, a lock of silver hair falling across his forehead. His smile turned impish, though the edge of wariness returned to his gaze.
“I suppose it’s only fair,” he muttered after a long consideration, “call me Wise.”
“Wise,” Lycaon repeated slowly, savoring it, committing every syllable to memory. It suited him—a name delicate and beautiful but with an underlying willingness to sharpen knowledge until it turned barbed on his tongue.
Wise shuddered, releasing more of that sweet scent that Lycaon couldn’t wait to be drunk on.
“Tell me,” the man began, tone speculative, tugging on the straps around his snout as if testing the limit of what Lycaon would allow— anything . “How does it feel to kneel before someone you’re supposed to hunt? And an Omega at that?”
It was the easiest question Lycaon had to answer in his life.
“Like the one thing I’m supposed to be doing for the rest of my life.“ His hands moved from where they’ve been digging on the bed sheet to rest on Wise’s waist. “To worship you at your feet, to lay my head on your laps, to be woken up by your gentle touches, and call you ‘mate’.”
The hands on his face froze as Wise widened his eyes, the sensual air around him dissipating like rain upon hitting the scorching hot ground.
“Are you saying that me, a rabbit, a prey? Is your mate?” he asked in pure disbelief. “You know that such a thing was unheard of?”
“I don’t care. My soul calls out to you. ” Lycaon squeezed his waist, so small that his fingers could touch each other from where they’re encircled. He wondered if he’d be able to fit inside. “If being a well-behaved Alpha is what it takes for you to want me, then I’ll be your lap dog and bark for you.”
And he meant every word of it.
Wise stared at him, stunned, before a beautiful blush spread across his cheeks. Lycaon could tell it was not a heat-induced blush. It pleased him, his instinct falling into a soft rumble.
“Okay,” Wise murmured almost to himself as if he had finally decided on something.
Lycaon tilted his head, ears flicking in confusion. “Okay?”
The grip on his face tightening was the only warning he got before Wise yanked him down to lick at his sharp teeth. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity down his spine, igniting every nerve with an almost unbearable intensity.
That was as much permission as Lycaon could get.
The vice grip he has over his scent loosened. In an instant, the scent of earl grey engulfed the room, drowning everything until the only two things he could smell was the intoxicating mix of ripe peaches and bergamot.
A sharp intake of breath came from Wise. That reaction frayed the last thread of restraint in him.
Lycaon growled low in his throat, a sound of pure, unrestrained desire as he surged forward, a surprise gasp leaving the silver-haired Omega, when he was pressed down into the bed.
Lycaon didn’t waste any time pulling off the man’s clothes. The ratty dark cloak was the first thing to go. He made a mental note to discard it after this because his mate shouldn’t be clothed in such appalling quality. The shirt hanging off his thin frame was next, revealing a chest that heaved with ragged breaths and pert nipples that he didn't waste a second to lick.
Wise whimpered, arching his back and shoving more of that pink beauty into his mouth which he sucked on greedily, teeth nipping on the bud. Lycaon made sure to give the same amount of attention to the other pair, squeezing and twisting until it brought a sharp cry from Wise.
And the man came just like that, body twitching and shuddering beneath him.
Wise’s glazed eyes met his, mouth opening and closing as if he himself couldn’t believe what had just happened. “Ah…”
That frayed thread snapped.
Lycaon smiled, showing more teeth than usual. “I’m delighted that my tongue pleased you so much.”
Wise squirmed, face impossibly flushed as he looked away. “It’s the heat. Everything became extra sensitive for me.”
Embarrassment bleed into his tone and Lycaon knew an excuse when he heard one. But he didn’t push, merely grasping Wise’s chin to turn his head back to him. Silver hair fanned out around him like a halo and Lycaon descended like a sinner starved for salvation.
Wise’s mouth tasted sweet, just like his scent. Lycaon wondered if the rest of his body tasted the same. He intended to sample everything out by the end of the night.
His mouth was never built for kissing but his tongue was doing a great job drawing out muffled moans. He licked the cavern, pulling the smaller man flush against him, eager to explore every nook and cranny— when he felt a shove on his chest.
“Time.” Wise panted out, drool dribbling down his chin, seafoam-green eyes glittering with lust. “Let me breathe.”
Lycaon’s ears drooped like a scolded puppy. But he stopped, tail swishing in lazy strokes, as shame filled him. He might have been a bit…too excited and forgotten about the fact that not everyone was built with a wolf’s lungs.
“You were really serious when you said you would be my lap dog, huh? You listened to me so well.” Wise chuckled before cooing, clever hands scratching the back of his ears that made him shivered. “Good boy. You can take off your clothes first while I take the rest of mine off.”
The praise sent blood rushing straight to his arousal.
Lycaon had always been meticulous with his clothing, taking extra care to make sure there wasn’t a single crease and wrinkle on the fabric or folding them into neat piles for easier work. For once, he wasn’t concerned about any of that as he kicked his rumpled clothes down the bed.
Wise was beautifully bared when he turned his attention back to him—all soft skin and delicate curves that Lycaon immediately worshiped with his tongue and teeth while making his way downward to where heaven was resting.
Until his hand brushed over a jagged raised skin over Wise’s hips.
Lycaon stopped and stared at the scar, stretching from his right torso and folding into the dip of his back like a wretched embrace. That kind of wound that only came from being stabbed at the side.
Someone had dared to hurt his mate.
He didn’t think he was still capable of blinding fury, but the snarl that left his mouth would have made lesser predators scampering off in fear.
A soft hand cupped his face, a quick peck was given to his nose. “Hey, that’s an old scar. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Lycaon’s growl subsided into a low rumble, his fury giving way to a gnawing ache in his chest. His gaze locked onto Wise’s seafoam-green ones, searching for any hint of lingering pain or discomfort. Wise offered a faint, reassuring smile, but it did little to extinguish the anger simmering beneath his skin.
"Old or not, it shouldn’t have happened," Lycaon murmured, his voice laced with a protective edge. His fingers ghosted over the scar with reverence, as though the mere touch of his calloused hands might erase the evidence of past harm.
Wise chuckled softly, though there’s a hint of weariness to it, like he’s remembering a past he’d rather not revisited. “It’s out of your capability. I don’t even know you existed when it happened.”
Lycaon might not know the stories his mate brought with him, and knew Wise was not ready to share every single one of them with him. But, that’s fine. Lycaon would wait, could afford to wait. In fact, he had breached through various steps of courting just to have this warm Omega pliant in his arm. Once they were done dealing with Wise’s heat, he would take him to the lovely coffee shop he often frequented.
“I’ll keep you safe,” Lycaon said, the weight of promise hanging heavily between them.
Once again Wise stared at him with that wide-eyed look. The confusion flickering within hammered home Wise’s earlier hostility had stemmed from a history of having no one he could depend on. Somewhere within Lycaon cracked at the realization.
Eventually, the bewilderment fell away, and Wise’s smile softened.
“I know.”
The intensity of the moment was replaced by a different kind of tension when Wise squeezed at his face and began directing it downward.
“Now, are you going to help me through my heat or continue brooding over my old wound?”
Lycaon watched, entranced, as Wise’s free hand drifted lower to spread his folds with two fingers, exposing his fluttering entrance. Slick and cum dripped out like a stream trickling down the valley. His throat felt parched all of the sudden.
“Imagine my surprise to hear you never took your chances when I’ve been dripping wet this whole nigh— ah !”
Lycaon pulled at his thighs, throwing Wise’s legs over his shoulders, mouth descending to lap at that sweet, sweet nectar. He groaned at the taste. If Wise’s mouth had been sugary treats, then this was a drug he’d gladly get addicted to. He mourned for all those lost years spent without knowing this honeyed ambrosia.
Broken moans spilled out of Wise’s lips that turned into sob when Lycaon began sucking on his clit, three fingers already knuckles deep inside his tight hole which still seemed eager for more. When Lycaon had trimmed his claws, it was in order to aggravate Wise’s wound as he tended to it— certainly not with the intention to stretch him full and prepare him for his knot.
But for now.
“You’re awfully prepared for this—?! ” Wise’s words ended with a high-pitched shriek when Lycaon started to crook his fingers, scrapping his walls with blunt claws. Wise convulsed, hands twisting the sheet as he came with a loud cry.
He might not be able to wring out more of Wise’s secret, but he could certainly wring out more orgasms from him. His erection could wait in favor of servicing the smaller man.
A sharp grin appeared on his face, of a predator sensing a weakness. He wanted to know if he could draw out more orgasm with both his tongue and fingers only. His mouth drank the spilled nectar, and the hunger inside him merely seemed to heighten. He didn’t think he could ever be satiated.
Lycaon replaced the mouth he had on his clit with his thumb, rubbing it. Wise gasped, thighs shaking from where they’re up in the air.
“Unfortunately, patience is not something I’m gifted with, but trained.” He nipped at the milky thighs before soothing the spot with his tongue, hungry wine-red eyes staring down at glazed seafoam-green eyes. “I had to wait hours for you to wake up. So, pardon me if I’m more than willing to make you come continuously before you take my knot.”
“Huh—?” Wise squealed, thighs clamping around Lycaon’s head when he slid his tongue inside and began fucking him in tandem with his fingers. The squelch that filled his ears was a sound he'd spent the rest of his life getting drunk to. More broken sobs left Wise’s lips, sweet and tethering on the edge of collapse.
“Lycaon!”
Wise’s third orgasm filled his mouth and Lycaon gulped it down, making sure to get every single droplet of it. After all, it would be improper to waste such an abundant amount of food.
Wise was shaking when he lowered him back to the bed. His silvery eyelashes were damp with unshed tears, but there was a determined glint in his eyes as he shifted, pressing his pulsing entrance teasingly to the tip of Lycaon’s throbbing member.
“You’re not going to put it in?” Wise asked innocently, batting those doe eyes at him.
If Lycaon had been a better man, he would have sunk in slowly, inch by inch until Wise could properly take him in because three fingers were just enough to prepare him for his cock. But patience was a finite thing and it had long snapped into two, he didn’t waste any time to thrust in a single fluid motion.
Wise choked, arms flying to wrap around his shoulder.
Lycaon panted, dizzy from how impossibly hot—scorching—Wise was inside. The wall encasing his cock was tight, squeezing him, and he had to fight his instinctive urge to rut into him rough and hard like how most predator animals mating usually ended up being.
He didn’t want to break the rabbit… yet. And besides, he had a goal to commence.
Lycaon started slow, savoring the drag of his cock and the quiet gasps it pulled from Wise. He pulled out before pushing back in deep, hitting thrusts. His mouth landed on Wise’s shoulder, biting down on the flesh there, over and over again until all he could see was his marks covering those pale canvas. The smaller man clung to him like he was his only lifeline, legs wrapped around his waist.
It didn’t take long before the pace grew punishing, his thrust hitting deep inside where Wise's fingers wouldn't be able to reach. The man whined and trashed beneath him, nails digging into his back.
“I’m close,” he whispered, his breaths warm and damp against his fur. A sob broke through him when Lycaon nipped at his abused nipple.
Lycaon could feel his own impending release as well. His knot was already swollen and throbbing, eager to push past through the hungry hole and lock them together while he filled that womb with copious amounts of his semen. And even more.
“Put your knot in,” Wise but all begged—crazed, desperate . It sounded like a beautiful symphony to Lycaon’s ears. “I want to come with your knot inside me.”
Being a good dog would mean listening to his owner, and he had been a good one for a while now. But still, there would be times when they didn’t listen.
Wise came without his knot, a scream spilling out his lips. Lycaon followed shortly, hips continuing to snap as he drenched his inside with his seed. The man jerked at the hot sensation, pink lips opening and closing as if he’s struggling to form a coherent sentence.
He eventually landed on one word.
“Why?” Wise stared at him blankly, an almost pitiful whimper leaving his mouth. The sound tore at Lycaon’s heart, and he apologized by licking the trail of wetness down his cheeks.
“I believe our bodies need to be more properly acquainted before I could do that.” Lycaon cupped Wise’s face, the man leaning into his touch, the barest hint of a pout on his lips.
The legs wrapped around his waist tightened and the rabbit rocked his hips. A wrecked moan and groan filled the air.
Seafoam-green eyes filled his vision, the ever-encroaching lust from heat simmering inside those irises.
“Well, what are you waiting for then?”
It was only after managing to wring a couple more orgasm out of Wise with his cock alone that the man finally snapped.
“You— uhn ” Wise began, voice raspy from hours of shouting, rabbit ears flicking in apparent distress, eyes shining from a fresh batch of tears. “You had no intention of simply knotting me from the start, didn't you?”
Lycaon’s hands gripped the small waist as he thrust up, the force of it making Wise bounce on his lap, his sweaty forehead pressing to broad shoulders. By now, his knot were so engorged, it felt physically painful for him to continue holding back his increasingly loud primal urges. Wise’s greedy hole has been stretched and abused for so long, it would only take the slightest change in angle for it to swallow his knot whole.
But, Lycaon was a determined man, and he fully intended to fulfill his promise.
“Knotting is not the only way to break an Omega's heat, but it’s certainly the fastest.” Lycaon moved lower, his lips brushing against the curve of Wise’s neck where red flowers had bloomed beautifully. He bit down at the pale canvas beside it. Fevered cries resounded beside his ears.
“I seemed to recall you were unusually eager when I proposed to help you break your heat. Was that what you had in mind? So you could be done with me faster?”
Wise’s eyes widened, shock coloring those ocean irises. “How did you…”
“Upon waking up, you mentioned you were going to leave, and a hasty one at that.” Lycaon shifted to nibble playfully at his rabbit ears. Wise jerked. “When I offered my solution, I knew I couldn’t— wouldn't—stop you if you had insisted on leaving. But to my surprise, you accepted.”
His hand trailed down, leaving goosebumps on Wise’s skin before grabbing at his fluffy tail. The man let out a squeak.
“Did you really think a rabbit could outwit the wolf?”
Wise’s face turned red. From embarrassment or anger, Lycaon didn’t know. But, it would be a perfectly justifiable reaction. To an Omega in heat, being knotted by an Alpha was the one thing their bodies demanded for. And to have it denied, again and again, would have driven anyone insane.
Lycaon had expected cutting words from barbed tongue or maybe nails that dug deeper into his back to draw out more blood. Or even a bite on his neck because Wise has certainly shown that pretty mouth was full of razor-sharp things for the last few hours.
“Was all the things you spouted about being ‘mate’ a lie then?”
He didn’t expect whispered words and hurt coloring their tone.
“On the contrary, it was because you’re my mate.” Lycaon nuzzled Wise’s damp cheeks, trying to soothe the frown marring his face. “I know prey animals don’t feel the tug of the mating bond the same way as we do. So, it’s a mere given that I drag everything out to keep you a bit longer.”
His mate was a smart, strong-willed man, even if he could be a little bit self-detrimental. Had known he was one the moment Lycaon saw his attempt to push through the fog of heat by purposely injuring himself. Pain was an antidote for pleasure after all.
(But at the right dose, it could still be a drug. Though, that would be another matter altogether.)
Which meant Lycaon would be destroyed if he woke up to an empty, cold sheet beside him.
Wise’s glare eased up as he processed what Lycaon had just said, mind probing for any fallacies in his words. Lycaon licked at his neck, throat rumbling to calm him further until finally, Wise’s shoulders relaxed and a heavy sigh left him.
“It won’t be fair to be mad at you when I had fully intended to leave in the beginning,” he muttered, the scent of peaches that had turned sour was once again sweet like honey. “I thought I could just humor you when you said I was your ‘mate’ to get you to knot me faster and I’ll be done with this damn heat. But apparently not.”
In the beginning. It echoed in Lycaon’s mind like the taste of a sweet redemption. His heart pounded, tail swishing almost instinctively. Does that mean, does that mean—
“Does that mean you’re no longer planning to do so?”
Seafoam-green eyes gleamed with the warmth of the first ray of morning sunlight.
“Well, when you have a very dashingly handsome Alpha who keeps listening to your words, treats you like their whole world revolves around you, and also ruins sex for the rest of your life, it would be unthinkable to leave after all that, wouldn’t it?”
Those words washed over like the gentle ebbs of the summer waves, curling around his heart and settling inside the space that had been empty for so long.
Home.
Lycaon couldn’t help but lick Wise’s lips, who opened them with a strangled laugh, his arms tightening around his broad shoulder as he slid his tongue inside.
“Promise me.” Lycaon panted into his mouth, hands squeezing the small waist like a treasure he would never let go. “Promise me. You won’t leave.”
“I won’t.” Wise pressed a kiss on his nose, an echo of earlier tenderness. “I won’t. So please.”
Wet cavern squeezed around him, silvery eyelashes bat at him in faux modesty.
“Put your knot in me.”
Lycaon growled, low and nowhere close to being human. He picked Wise up from his lap, situated him to his knees, his bite-covered ass up in the air, and sank his cock back in one fluid motion. The man whined, muffled from the cushion he buried his face in.
Each grind, each thrust was accompanied with a sharp nip along that smooth back, paying extra care to nibble on the harrowing scar. Lycaon would leave more of his marks until there wasn’t a single inch of his skin uncovered. Until the mark left by someone else was replaced by his.
Until each time Wise pressed on that tender skin, he would only be reminded of the fact that he belonged to him, protected, and utterly, undoubtedly loved.
“Lycaon—!” Wise gasped, pushing back against his cock, looking over his shoulders to stare at him with pearls gathering on the tip of his eyelashes. “Please.”
This time, Lycaon listened and pushed his knot past the abused hole without any resistance, a growl ripping through him. Wise shook as he fell apart, and Lycaon made sure to fuck him through it, peppering sweet kisses down the knobs of his spine and up to his nape.
His gum ached to seal their bond forever, to leave the one mark that would not fade away.
But not yet, not this time.
He reached his edge not long after, the blinding force of it making him see white. After hours of holding his knot in and with his previous release still churning inside, there should be enough seed for Wise to be pregnant with twins. No, triplets. Maybe he should have just knotted him earlier and bred him. That way, Lycaon could make sure he would never leave him.
Wise babbled something unintelligible, his hand pressed to the bulge on his stomach, no doubt feeling just how full he was. Lycaon felt himself losing his mind at the sight, the rabid insistence of his urges flaring up that he forcefully tamped down when Wise began swaying.
Lycaon caught him before he could completely topple over. His knot would lock them together for a couple more hours, so he settled them both side by side, soothing all the marks he had left on the man. Wise was all soft and pliant in his arms, glazed seafoam-green eyes staring at him sleepily with a warmth that could rival the sun and thaw the icy unease in his heart. A tired smile was stretched across his lips.
He hoped he could wake up to the sight tomorrow morning, the next, and every morning after.
“Rest.” Lycaon pressed a kiss to the silken crown of Wise’s hair, right between his rabbit ears. His blunt claws threaded gently through the strands to scratch at his scalp. The man melted into his arms even more, a soft purr leaving him unbidden.
“Mhmm…night…” Wise mumbled, scooting closer until his face was practically mushed to his furred chest, arms winding around his waist. “My mate.”
The words ghosted over Lycaon’s skin, settling like a soft weight, marking him as thoroughly as any physical touch, while Wise’s breathing evened out.
It took Lycaon a while to drift off, not when his mind was busy turning over those two words like they would vanish if he stopped cradling them just for a second. When sleep finally claimed him, it was to the quiet rise and fall of Wise’s chest, a steady rhythm lulling him into a dream that he’d only see straight out of a fairy tale.
Of seafoam-green eyes brightening upon his approach, of a tender smile, of gentle arms welcoming him home.
Home.
When Lycaon woke up, it was to the soft chirping of birds, the golden morning light spilling from the closed curtains, and a warm weight in his arms.
Wise’s face looked peaceful in sleep, the ever-present burden of his past momentarily absent. White strands of hair fell across his face, framing his delicate features. His pink lips were slightly parted, his breathing soft and steady
Lycaon’s chest tightened, relief washing over him like a wave.
He’s here.
He allowed himself a moment longer to simply look, to let the reality sink in. Slowly, he squeezed the small waist in his arms, his thumb brushing over the faint scar on Wise’s hip—a reminder of all the things still left unspoken between them. Lowering his head, he pressed a gentle kiss into the silver strands of hair.
Wise’s still here.
The man stirred slightly, his lashes fluttering before he blinked, his gaze still hazy with sleep. When his eyes focused on Lycaon, a drowsy smile spread across his face, soft and warm. It was as if the morning light itself was smiling back.
Lycaon felt his world tilt, his heart racing at the sight.
If the sun outside were to crumble and vanish one day, that would be fine. He didn’t need it—not when he had this warmth in his arms, this glow that outshone everything else.
“Morning,” Wise mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as he tried to stifle a yawn. The effort only made him scrunch his nose, and Lycaon bit back a chuckle. He wanted to kiss it—or maybe nibble it. “I didn’t leave like I promised, did I?”
Lycaon’s tail swished against the sheets in delight. “No, you didn’t.”
A deep sense of satisfaction settled in his chest as he smiled down at him.
“Good morning, Wise.”
His dream had bled into reality, and he hoped, with all his heart, it would stay that way forever.