The Offering

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The Offering Page 1

by Rosary Deville




  Wolves of Wereduin, Book 1

  Rosary Deville

  Copyright © 2020 Rosary Deville

  All rights reserved.

  Blurb

  As a beta in Wereduin society, Fern has no choice but to be mated when he comes of age. The ideal beta wereduin was subservient to their alpha, bears young, and knows their place in society.

  Fern isn’t like that.

  Rather than become an extension of his alpha, Fern wants to play in his band, hang out with his friends, and stay himself.

  Now of age, Fern is to be placed in the Offering—an annual ceremony where alphas hunt and claim their beta mates. And whose attention does Fern attract? None other than Donovan Blackfang, a Highborne alpha who will stop at nothing but to claim Fern’s heart, body, and soul.

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual races, cultures, or events is purely coincidental.

  This is an m/m dark erotica recommended for mature audiences only. It contains graphic depictions of violence, rape, sexual assault, domestic abuse, emotional manipulation, forced marriage, slavery, torture, gore, death, and language. People who are triggered by the topics above should proceed with caution. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

  All characters in this book are of consensual age. Please do not participate in any new sexual practices, especially those found in BDSM/fetishes without guidance of an experienced practitioner. The author will not be responsible for any harm, loss, injury, or death resulting from use of any information contained in this book.

  The entire story is fictitious and all spoken words and practices are notions of the author, and are not reflections of real-world religions. While references might be made to actual mythological or religious entities, they are the embellishments of the author’s imagination and not the accurate religious beliefs of real-life parishioners.

  Acknowledgements

  Special thanks to my cover artist Zoe Perdita, my editor, Sharon Stogner at Devil in the Details, my proofreader, Patricia Rowell, and my beta readers: Lynn Michaels, Jodee Arellano,

  Sam Bremmer, and Samie Forguson. Lastly to Derek and Brandon Fiechter for their Dark Fantasy Creatures playlist listed on their YouTube channel that provided me with a wonderful writing environment.

  Author’s Note

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for picking up a copy of the Offering. What began as a simple sexual fantasy, over the years, grew into a vastly complex world of different races, cultures, and customs. Due to its size, I’ve broken it up into two books, with this being book one. The second book will be right around the corner!

  The Offering takes place in a fictional world of werewolves, called wereduin. Their culture is vastly different than ours, and what they perceive as acceptable would be absurd by our standards. I invite you to look at this book not as a condonement of physical and sexual violence, nor a promotion of rape culture, but as a commentary on a society that values appearances, brutality and strength, often at the expense of those most vulnerable, and how it shapes and affects the lives of the characters. I’ve included a glossary at the end of the book to help you keep track of the events, characters, and deities.

  You will be following Fern, a young man who struggles against the societal roles thrust upon him, while trying to stay himself. You’ll learn about the world of the wereduins through his eyes, and hopefully you’ll be rooting for him to succeed.

  I hope that you’ll not only enjoy the action, feels, struggles, love, and steamy werewolf sex, but come away with the notion that sexual fantasies are healthy and normal. Everybody has them. After all, the Offering began its life as one. Even taboo fantasies that our society often views as depraved can be okay, and simply by having them doesn’t mean that you support the behavior in real life. There’s a proper time and place where these can safely be explored. One of those areas is through fiction.

  Now take a few hours and step into Fern’s world. Leave your inhibitions at the door and enjoy the ride!

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Disclaimer & Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One – The Hunt

  Chapter Two – Transitioning

  Chapter Three – Life and Death

  Chapter Four – Punishment

  Chapter Five – Perfecting You

  Chapter Six – Obedience Training

  Chapter Seven – Freeing You

  About the Author

  Also by Rosary Deville

  Glossary

  For Lynn,

  Without whom the world would never have met Fern and Don.

  Chapter One

  The Hunt

  The Offering rapidly approached, and this year everything changed for me. A few months ago, I came of age in Wereduin society, which meant I could participate.

  I had no wish to go, absolutely none. I was too young to be claimed. I didn’t want to bear some alpha’s pups. I wanted to finish school. Play in my band. Maybe even go to college. Mom would hear none of it, though. The following night, I would be in some alpha’s bed.

  In Wereduin culture, betas were the ones who became pregnant. It didn’t matter that I was a guy. I was a beta, so I could bear young like how my papa had my siblings and me. I wasn’t aware of an alpha that didn’t breed their beta. Mom had. She’d gotten three pups out of my papa.

  Once I was mated, I would be bred too. Yuck…

  As the beta parent, Papa made me a Mating Quilt, which was a tradition. It would be used when consummating the mating bonds.

  Already he had been trying to teach me ways I could submit. How I could give the alphas a good chase. That was the thing—alphas didn’t want betas to make it easy for them. If a beta didn’t put up a good fight, it would set the couple back for months, maybe years in their relationship.

  A beta was subservient to an alpha, but not their slave. Those who didn’t put up a fight during the Offering would be little more than slaves. There was a name for weak betas, slave betas. Alphas who took slave betas could take more than one, and many alphas joined the Offering to pick off the weak ones.

  No sir, not me. Not if I could help it.

  Papa had also been teaching me the Mating Song. Once I was claimed, and the Offering was over, my alpha and I would recite vows to each other. That last night would officially bind us together.

  Thinking about Mom and Papa saying those same lines to each other made it awkward and embarrassing. But Mom would have none of it. I learned the vows, and that was that. And the following day, I would be claimed. It would be the first of three claim marks that eventually would bind me to my alpha.

  My stomach was in knots, and I could barely sleep. The Wolfsbane Papa had given me left a bitter taste in my throat. The medicine made it difficult to transform into a werewolf during the Hunt, so tomorrow I’d have to stay a wereduin—our humanoid form. Most werewolves lived as wereduin anyway because it required less energy than the werewolf form.

  The wooden fan on the ceiling hummed as it spun. I stared out the open window, listening to the night—the echoing of the whippoorwill that lived in the oak tree outside the house, and the leaves rustling on the branch that grew through the wall. Werewolves liked to be surrounded by nature and often built houses around trees, not cutting them down like the other races.

  I wondered how tomorrow night would feel. All I could hope for was a strong and beautiful alpha female like my papa had found.

  The next evening Papa dropped me off at a large, open-aired stadium. It was located on the border of Nomans Forest, a vast woodland named by prehistoric humans that existed long before the Van Helsing line. Today, various races used
it in their Rites of Passage ceremonies.

  The auditorium buzzed with anxious chatter. Betas from all walks of life—some old, young, tall, short, fat, skinny, beautiful, or ugly—sat on the wooden benches or paced about the arena. Some betas bloomed late, hence the variety of ages. Others were kept from the Offering. Then, there were those who’d been sent away, or their alpha had abandoned them for some reason.

  As for the youngest ones in the group, I’d heard stories of stricter Wereduin parents letting their child in early, either lying at registration or else making agreements with the future alpha to have them claimed on their birthday night.

  Some betas looked happy to be there, excited even. I had never understood those people. Others looked scared. All I felt was determination and anger.

  I was still in school. In fact, I should be doing my homework and getting ready for bed. But my parents had taken me out of it. Once claimed, it would be at the discretion of my new alpha whether I continued my schooling. The entire mating season took about a month, starting from this evening. The three Offering ceremonies were spread out evenly, with the days in-between for other ceremonies, banquets, and bonding time between couples. The last week was the week of the full moon and Mating Week. After being completely claimed underneath the full moon, I would be bedded for an entire week with my alpha.

  Everything in my world was about to change, and once again, I didn’t have any choice.

  I kept tugging on my black curls, swirling them around my finger. My natural light brown showed at the roots, reminding me it needed to be re-dyed. Papa had taken my straight iron away, so I couldn’t style it like normal. He worried I wouldn’t be as attractive if my hair hid one of my eyes. He also refused to let me use hairspray or any cologne, so I carried only my natural scent.

  I couldn’t even wear my piercings and that ticked me off. The lip ring I understood, as some alpha might bite it off accidentally. But my industrial bar? It was a silver rod lodged into my outer ear. I doubted anyone could take that off.

  Resigning to my fate, I entered the arena.

  Then it hit me. Why did I have to find a partner at all? If I survived the night without being claimed, maybe I could put off mating for another year. Given the ages of some of these betas, it must be possible to pull that off. Plus, there had to be several hundred betas here. Maybe that could work to my advantage. More moving targets. I simply had to make myself undesirable and unruly. Most importantly, I had to not get caught by any alpha. Surely, with my attitude and the fact that I was on the track team, it would be like stealing kibble from a bowl.

  I joined the line with the other betas waiting to check-in. “Fern Brightwood, of the Brightwood Den?” the wereduin at the check-in counter said when it came to my turn. He checked his roster. “You came of age two months ago?”

  “That’s right.” Almost two months, not that I was counting. So what if I was now old enough to enter the Offering? I was still in school. I wasn’t ready to become an adult.

  “Here you are.” He handed me a key to the locker the druids assigned to me.

  “Remember no clothes shall be worn during the Hunt. Changing rooms are located near the lockers.”

  At my locker, I took out three trinkets.

  The first of the Offerings honored Arduinna, Goddess of the Hunt, and our race’s creator. This pendant would be a gift to her mate, Cerowain, the God of Fertility. If my gift pleased him, he would make me more fertile. My jade trinket depicted Cerowain’s face. Although a werewolf like all the Gods, Cerowain also had stag horns. But the horns on my pendant were misshaped. Hopefully, that lost me some points with him. I definitely didn’t want to become pregnant anytime soon, if ever at all.

  The second pendant went to Arduinna’s two worgs, her hunting companions she kept by her side. As they had her ear, it was best to be on their good side. This one was simple—a wolf made of wood.

  Finally, the last pendant was to the Goddess herself. It represented the werewolf entering the Offering, so it needed to have personal value to the participant. Mine was a music note. Since it was to honor the Goddess, Papa let me make it out of obsidian. I loved the way it caught the light and glimmered like a diamond. Too bad it wasn’t smaller. Otherwise, I could have worn it as a necklace. It would have gone perfectly with my emo-punk look. This pendant also served as a good luck charm and provided Arduinna’s protection during the often-brutal events.

  I stowed away the last of my belongings and stuffed the locker key into my backpack. It also contained an ointment Papa had given me and my Mating Quilt. Papa had finished the last of the stitching the night before. When we were claimed, our alpha had the right to the locker’s contents, as well as the Mating Quilt.

  Slowly, I removed my clothes, dreading the Hunt. My stomach tightened into knots. Some alphas were dangerous, and the weaker betas were always the first to go. But that would not be me! Absolutely not. No way. I was going to survive this Offering, and I was going to come out unmated. Even if it was the last thing I did…

  We waited for the druids to arrive. These werewolves dedicated their lives to serving the Gods. Most were betas, but a few alphas occasionally took vows. Seldom did they leave werewolf form.

  When they finally came into the arena, they herded us out the back and into the forest. Four at a time, we followed a worn dirt path. The deeper into the forest, the darker it got. Fog gathered around the thick oak trees. Their long, gnarled finger-like branches captured the remaining dim light.

  Already I felt the presence in the woods, watching us. Maybe it was the sound of the wind or some other animal, but I swore I heard growling. Focusing on the soothing smell of moss and foliage, I tried to ignore the monsters in the woods, waiting to devour me.

  The temperature had dropped by a good ten degrees and I shivered. Moisture in the air collected on my lips, and I rubbed my shoulders to chase away the goosebumps. So the alphas could fuck us easier, we weren’t permitted to wear any clothing, even pseudo-clothes—special clothing made to handle shifting between forms.

  We’d also been discouraged from transforming into werewolves. Alphas wanted us to appear weak, and in wereduin form, we looked basically like humans. But my werewolf fur, while not super heavy—more sheen and lush—would keep me warm, so I morphed anyway, at least as much as the Wolfsbane in my system allowed. Its bitterness still lingered in the back of my throat.

  Some betas stared at me with wide, scared eyes, others with chastising glares. So what. I didn’t care if I broke the rules. That stupid one was made to be broken.

  A bony, wolf paw rested on my shoulder, stealing my attention. The druid stared down at me, his eyes milky white. “You are to obey the Gods, young one. Now return to wereduin.” He moved his paw on top of my head, and my body reverted. I had no control over it. My bare skin felt extra cold with only my almost non-existent wereduin fur.

  The druid nodded to me. “May Arduinna and Cerowain forgive your disobedience and not take their punishment out on you during the Offering.”

  The druids were an eerie bunch, but he meant no ill will. However much it pissed me off, he was giving me a blessing of forgiveness. Inwardly, I grimaced. I felt bad going against the loving Goddess Arduinna. Still, I grumbled at how she allowed Cerowain to treat her beta children the way he did. Being a beta himself, you’d think Cerowain would be more sympathetic.

  We trekked for an entire hour, so I had a very long time to think. Mostly, I pumped myself up for what was to come. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and gave me energy, resolution.

  At some point they split us up. Given the size of the group, it was probably best we didn’t all start at the same location. Otherwise, we might trample each other to death trying to get away when the Hunt began. My group went north, while the other two went east and west.

  Finally, we reached an incline. Even though there was no handrail, the mismatched, wooden steps made it easier to climb. The top of the hill opened into a clearing. One or two trees dotted the field, but it
was mostly clear of foliage. The last rays of sun had been squeezed out from the horizon, leaving a purplish-orange hue in its wake.

  The druids gathered us around the archdruid in the center. The female werewolf addressed the crowd, praising the Gods before talking about the Hunt. With my heart trapped in my throat, there was no way I could pay attention to her speech. Besides, Papa had already told me what to expect this night. Standing in the clearing, hearing the growls in the forest and the whispering of the wind through the branches, I was glad he had prepared me.

  I vaguely heard the archdruid reciting the ballad of Arduinna and Cerowain. I knew that one by heart from the bedtime stories read to me as a pup. The Goddess hunted for a mate, but none gave her chase like this stag she’d encountered. When she finally caught it, she transformed it into a God, which explained why Cerowain still had stag horns.

  Hundreds of alphas hid in the surrounding forest, waiting for the hunt to begin. Waiting to claim their mate.

  Some betas looked like they would become slave betas. Even though he was at least my age, a skinny boy who appeared younger than me switched his weight from foot to foot. He seemed both tired and restless, like he wanted it over quickly. Yeah, he would be one of the first to go down.

  Finally, the druids backed away. They moved slowly like leaving a lion’s cage without disturbing the beast. They were right to be careful. The time had arrived for alphas in their full glory to begin hunting their future mates. In the past, some alphas’ aggression got so fierce they fought to the death. Sometimes betas didn’t even make it out alive. It wasn’t common, but it had happened. One year, a particularly beautiful beta stirred up too much of a crowd and was ripped in half by two fighting alphas. Well, that certainly would not happen to me. I wasn’t about to wait around like a sitting duck.

 

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