STORY EXCERPT

“You dragged my Barry, my son, into this mess. Now I don’t have any children left.”

“Barry put his claws to my neck and forced me to drive him to Iron Stone so he could kill Mac,” he reminded the Alpha.

No use. Bert only snarled. It didn’t surprise him one bit that Bert suddenly chose to decide Mac meant nothing to him, was no longer his son. 

“You’ll pay for your sins, Steve Miller,” Bert went on, as if he didn’t hear Steve’s words. “Any last words?”

“You should have left the wolves of Iron Stone alone. As Alpha, you exiled them, then decided to kill them. When you failed to achieve that, you blamed everyone else save yourself. You’re no Alpha of mine, Bert,” he finally said the words everyone else in the pack thought but didn’t dare say out loud. 

For years, Steve held on to the silent anger festering in him since his father died. Good thing his mother was no longer alive to see this. Steve didn’t imagine this was how he’d go, but at least his father would have been proud of him for standing his ground. He didn’t miss the looks the other werewolves traded. His words resonated with them, but he doubted they’d have the guts to stand up to Bert. Bert practically had the entire town in his pocket. Drove it into the ground, more like it.

“Shut the fuck up, traitor,” Bert said with a hiss. “Finish him.”

For a second, the four dominant werewolves with Bert hesitated. Steve knew them all. Maurice. Bernadette. Lawrence. Vanessa. Hope fluttered inside of him only to die out when Bert let out a howl of rage.

“You heard what I fucking said, kill him,” Bert shrieked. 

Steve felt Bert’s forceful tug on the pack bonds, knew his chances of survival were next to none now that Bert used his position as Alpha to command the others. He used that opportunity to turn tail and run, reaching for his wolf. Steve might not be able to outrun four of Bert’s strongest wolves but he had to try.

* * * *

An agonized howl came from behind Steve. He panted, beyond exhausted, but he refused to give in to defeat. Steve pushed himself, although all fours threatened to give out from under him. His fur whipped past bushes and branches. Steve didn’t know where he was heading, didn’t care. He must have left Silver River territory by now. 

His only hope was to cross Iron Stone land, which was claimed by Rhett Briggs and his brothers. That would make his pursuers hesitate, because they knew trespassing meant certain death from the beasts of Iron Stone. Mac. His one thought was to reach Mac. Mac kept telling him on the phone to come over but he took far too long to decide.

The only reason he reached this far was because he had a feeling his pursuers took pity on him. God, it sickened him to the stomach, seeing Bert use his abilities as the Alpha to make his werewolves do his bidding. He’d always known the Silver River pack was slowly poisoning itself, had never been healthy, but to reach this point?

Steve must have been too distracted, because he barely caught sight of a streak of gray fur coming at him from the left. The werewolf sunk his fangs right into his left flank. Steve whined and tried to get away but the werewolf refused to let go. A second werewolf came from the left. Still strapped in the jaws of the first, he couldn’t avoid the swipe of claws. Pain flared from his right shoulder, then his face.

His vision began to sway as both werewolves took him down. This was the end for him.

An earth-shattering roar came from the nearby trees, making both his attackers pause. Steve heard the same sound at close range the next time. A massive grizzly bear tore the two wolves away from him like they were toys. Another werewolf appeared, snarling at the bear, who easily tossed the werewolf at the nearest tree. The last arrived, latching his fangs on the bear’s left leg.

The bear howled and it struck him this grizzly was too big for it to be a normal bear. A werebear. There was something familiar about him, too, although Steve couldn’t put his paw on it. 

A sense of calm enveloped him completely. His wolf knew instinctively that this shifter, his unexpected savior, wouldn’t stop until he was safe. Who would even do something like that? Save him? Steve was a nobody, a failure. Even his pack mates never truly saw him. He’d always been the invisible guy, but this werebear would risk his life for him?

He must be dreaming, or maybe Bert managed to kill him and this was the afterlife.

Panic washed over him as the werewolves began to recover and went for the bear again. His wounds flared. Definitely reality. 

The werebear growled, didn’t seem to care about himself and kept on fighting like some berserker. Time and time again, the werewolves went after him. Despair filled Steve, because despite the wolves being smaller, they worked in a group, wouldn’t stop until they took their prey. He’d seen first-hand how his pack mates—former pack mates—trained and fought.

God, if you’re out there, save him, Steve thought in misery. 

This werebear didn’t deserve to die, not tonight, not on his account. If Steve had the strength to return to human form, he’d yell at the crazy ass shifter to run, let the werewolves have him. 

Then a howl emerged, followed by three massive black shapes, larger than any wolves in the pack. The largest let out a howl, one full of fury, and ripped the werewolf on the bear’s back. The other two black wolves did the same, until the Silver River werewolves gathered to a semi-circle, snarling low. They stayed put though. A standstill.

On the other end stood the three pitch black wolves and this savage bear that made his heart race and soothed his wolf. Steve knew who these four were. The Beasts of Iron Stone had arrived. 

Steve lost consciousness just as the fighting intensified but it didn’t matter. Steve knew when he woke, he’d see the face of his bear protector and he’d thank him then.

ADULT EXCERPT

Benson couldn’t believe his luck. How did one rescue end up with him sitting on the edge of the bed and Steve kneeling between his legs, looking tempting as hell? He groaned, speared his fingers into Steve’s hair as the submissive werewolf leaned in close to blow at his tip. Steve wore a cute little smile as he pushed out his tongue and swiped the pre-cum gathered there.

A rumble of approval tore out of him as he let Steve explore and take his time. For now, anyway. Benson knew he wouldn’t last long and judging by Steve’s arousal, his little wolf wouldn’t either. Steve licked him from root to tip, smacking his lips like Benson’s dick was the best he ever tasted. 

Steve opened his mouth, began to take his length in. His little wolf gagged on the first try, but an expression of determination crossed his face. Steve managed the second time. Benson’s tip hit the back of Steve’s throat. Steve hollowed out his cheeks and got the hang of it, bobbed his head up and down. 

Fuck, but Steve’s mouth and tongue felt good on his shaft. Benson had been a workaholic so dates were few and far between, so he spent a lot of time giving himself hand jobs. This was so much better. He gave Steve’s hair a tug and Steve paused. Some of his pre-cum dripped down the side of Steve’s mouth and he brushed it away.

“Hold still,” he ordered.

Steve did. He began to pump in and out of Steve, groaning as he erupted, mind hazing as he pulled out, emptying his load on Steve’s cheek, marking him. Mine, he thought as he leaned over, gave Steve’s mouth a kiss. 

“Lube, in the drawer,” he told Steve, who got to his feet to retrieve the lube. 

Once Steve returned, Benson pulled the little wolf onto his lap. Steve straddled him, positioning his knees on either side of him and offered him the tube. He took it, glanced at Steve’s erect prick in appreciation. Seated like this, Steve couldn’t hide anything from him, not his balls, pink puckered entrance or his long dick.

“All this now belongs to me,” he said with a rumble.

Steve nodded, looking eager as he applied a generous amount of gel into his hole. Steve moaned, gripping his shoulders as Benson pushed one finger in, then a second. He began widening Steve for access, taking his time, knowing he wasn’t exactly small. 

“Hurry,” Steve murmured, squirming on his lap. “I want something bigger in me.”

“Be patient, little wolf,” he chided. His own dick woke up, would be ready for action soon. The good thing about both of them being shifters was that they both recovered fast. Benson couldn’t wait to bury himself inside Steve, to claim Steve as his in every way. “Don’t want to hurt you for our first time.”

“Why do you keep saying that? You’re never going to hurt me.”

“Don’t be too sure of that.” It disturbed him a little, how much Steve put so much trust in him but he’d make a promise to himself to live up to that. Benson had to admit, ever since Steve arrived, his bear hadn’t been as unmanageable. That was a good thing, right? He pulled his digits out, guided his dick into Steve’s entrance. He couldn’t wait to seal the deal. Claim what rightfully belonged to him. 

After this, any shifter who would take a whiff of Steve would back off, knowing his little wolf was claimed. Benson didn’t care how territorial he was being, that was just the way dominant werebears were built. If Bert or any Silver River pack wolf tried to lay a finger on Steve, he’d rip them a new one. Make them pay for all the suffering they made his Steve endure.

That was right. Silver River and Bert owed Steve and him a debt, one he intended to settle soon. For now, he’d enjoy this moment.

“Ready?” he asked.

Steve’s moan was as good an answer as any. Benson pushed in, gritting his teeth, urging himself to go slow and easy. Once he pushed past the stubborn and thick ring of muscles, it went a lot smoother. Steve dug his nails into his skin but he didn’t mind. Steve breathed in and out until he finally rested his balls against Steve’s ass. Damn, but right here right now, this felt like nirvana.

Steve’s ass muscles clenched around his shaft, made him growl softly. So tight. He nearly exploded but held back, not wanting to ruin this. 

“Good job,” he told his little wolf, kissing Steve on the cheek.

Time to make Steve fly. He began to piston in and out of Steve, starting with steady strokes at first. Sweat covered his back. His muscles tensed as he went faster, deeper, seemingly able to breach Steve’s most intimate place. His little wolf met him for every thrust, pupils dilated, lips parted. He stole a kiss, went soft and slow this time. Benson could tell that surprised his little wolf. He fondled Steve’s balls, pinched at Steve’s cock head. 

Steve gasped at his last push. He must’ve hit the jackpot. Benson kept brushing against Steve’s prostate. The pressure inside him continued to build as he reduced them both to panting messes. They let their bodies do all the talking and with his body joined with Steve’s, his bear seemed completely sated. Stable. Happy, almost. The beast had always been dissatisfied, with the situation in Silver River, with the feeling they were changing nothing in a place that had become completely lawless thanks to Bert.

That was him, fighting a losing battle he couldn’t win but this one, well.