The Offering

by Rosary Deville

  Immediately I covered my face, but he didn’t hit me. “You’re all right.” He sounded like he said this more to verify his own internal questions. “No marks. No nothing.” He huffed. “And Mites’s wrong. Of course, he’s fucking wrong.”

  He wasn’t making any sense to me, but then, the guy had faced death and lived. Moreover, no harm came to me whatsoever…well, I had almost gotten killed, but that wasn’t on him. Obviously, that had angered Don. Maybe I shouldn’t be upset at him? After all, my foolishness could’ve killed us both.

  “I’m sorry.” I bowed my head. “I almost killed us. I’m sorry.”

  Don snorted. “Fucking do that again, and I won’t be saving you.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Don kept pacing the four corners, his mirror images doing the same. “There’ll be more of them. Don’t look if it will terrify you. And don’t leave the quilt.”

  “I won’t, I won’t. I’ll stay here.”

  “Good.” Don stopped pacing and took a knee, momentarily reverting back into wereduin form, most likely to conserve energy. He dug out a water bottle and drank deeply before he splashed water on his face and neck. Then he looked down at me, his voice sharp. “Get some sleep.”

  “Not likely.” My body felt exhausted. If not for my years as a wereduin, I would’ve reverted into a worg. I definitely hadn’t the energy to shift into a werewolf.

  Don hadn’t yelled at me, even though adrenaline made him sound cruel. He sat beside me, dripping with sweat. Molebat blood dotted the quilt. While his sweat also soaked through in multiple places, the molebat blood only covered the corners and nowhere else. Plenty of carnage served as offerings to both War Gods. Corpses piled up in the grass near the hummock’s edges and around the quilt, but nothing dead touched the quilt. That would have been disrespectful to Cerowain, the God of the Offering.

  Depending on the sect, an alpha needed to fulfill certain rules and rituals to the Gods. The more sects an alpha joined, the more their status elevated, but it also meant more rituals to observe. Messing up or skipping some subjected them to penalties from the Council.

  One alpha survived the night but still lost his beta because the Council thought he’d made too much mess on the Mating Quilt, and it displeased Cerowain. Don belonged to three sects, so my slip-up could’ve been costlier than I’d realized. I suppose I took for granted how unbelievably strong Don was, even by wereduin standards. Yet, he had managed to do it all, keep me safe, and observe the rituals required. No wonder he was exhausted.

  For a moment, I appreciated him. Really appreciated him. He put his life on the line to save me, and it wasn’t necessary. A beta who didn’t obey his alpha could be costly, and some alphas for that reason alone would’ve let the beta fend for himself. But not Don.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  My soft words got his attention. He nodded at me. “Get some sleep. We’re not over this, not by a long shot.”

  Glancing down the hill to the flat plains, I saw a mixture of horror, including an alpha, brought down by the molebats. His beta still fought while the alpha’s ears and tail were cut off as he was disassembled piece by piece.

  Looking over at the alpha-beta pairs lucky enough to be on hummocks, I found the two alphas and their beta from the first trial. Their hummock was taller and pointier than ours, limiting the number of molebats attacking even more.

  They had their beta between them. Her eyes screwed shut. Both alphas wore the same weapon. They didn’t have tridents like Don, but I had seen him wield that weapon before. It consisted of five long razor blades that went in-between the fingers, the equivalent of having double claws per hand. This iconic weapon was another symbol of the Twins of War. They were one being but contained two torsos, each having a single arm. On either hand, both Twins’ fitted the weapon between their fingers.

  Golden lights from a barrier joined the alphas together, with their beta in the middle. This allowed the males to use weapons in both hands and protect the female even when distracted by killing molebats. They tore through the creatures, moving as one.

  They looked close in age and fought so in sync that I wondered if they were twins. That would explain why both shared a beta, as was custom. I didn’t know which sects they belonged to, nor the rules they had to play by, but they had torches around the edges of their Mating Quilt. The molebats swarmed around them, but the torches stayed lit—a result of the Twins’ will. One thing was for sure, that trio would survive the night.

  I thought about Myrtle, and my stomach hurt.

  Don’s large hand covered my shoulder. It made me look up at him. He pulled me close, and I fell against his legs. The musky smell of his sweat comforted me, and I pressed my face into his calf. He rested a firm hand on my head and kept me by his side. Maybe he was reassuring me I was safe, or maybe it was for him. To reassure himself that I hadn’t run down the hill to a painful death. He’d gotten blood—molebats and his own—in my hair, but at this point, I didn’t care two shits about something so petty. With my body extremely fatigued, I ended up passing out against his legs.

  I awoke lying on the quilt to dead silence. He must have moved me off his legs, most likely so he could continue fighting while I slept.

  My nerves piqued for danger, expecting molebats to march up the hill, jaws opened, their beady eyes fixated on me.

  Don knelt beside me and watched the moonlight. I knew he would not be sleeping tonight. “You awake?” I nodded. He placed a hand on my head. “It’s almost over now.” His encouraging words helped me breathe a little easier.

  “What happened? Is everyone dead?”

  Don nodded. “Those that were too weak are being taken home as dinner for the molebats.” Thinking of Myrtle, I looked away bitterly. “But there’s no way that will happen to us. You are safe with me, Fern. Just know that.” I tried to nod, but instead, I stared at him dumbly. He sat on the quilt. “Come.” With a flick of his wrist, he called me over. “Stay close to me. From now on, you must always be touching me.”

  I remembered the molebats had a cleanup crew. Bloodwhispers. These silent blood suckers craved live blood. Those too tired from fighting—or more likely, betas unprotected by careless or tired alphas—made good prey. Bloodwhispers evolved to be deathly silent, being too weak to attack in the open. They were two feet long and inched on the ground. Their centipede-like bodies were covered in soft hairs. They could draw blood without inflicting pain. This last wave of stragglers had killed betas in the past. Don wanted me close so he could feel every part of my body. That way, they couldn’t drain me in the shadows.

  As the morning drew closer, a layer of mist covered the ground, making it difficult to see more than a foot away. Bloodwhispers liked to hide in the haze and drink from their victims when close enough. When they prepared to feed, they arched their long, skinny bodies upward like a worm. Their feelers—resembling antenna on both sides of their head—could prick a victim, and he’d never be the wiser.

  I didn’t protest but instead climbed into Don’s lap. He held another weapon. This one looked like a thin, long blade, jagged like a saw. He thrust his elbow back, taking the sword underneath his arm. I heard it stab a bloodwhisper.

  It appeared Don had entered into a pact with a Talon Blade. This weapon housed the spirit of a lesser deity that served the Twins. It replenished his strength and energy when it fed upon bloodwhispers. To detect its prey, it sent out pulses that only full-fledged werewolves could hear. Don had reverted into a wereduin—perhaps he too lacked the energy to maintain werewolf form anymore—but if he let the blade guide him, he wouldn’t be caught off guard in this heavy mist. If I stayed where he could feel my body completely, I was safe. He kept running his hand over me—up my arms, down my legs, along my back. He sat in the center on the quilt, cross-legged, but spread enough so I could fit inside, and pulled me against his chest.

  “You’re safe, you’re safe.” It was weird hearing him say that, especially since earlier, I would’ve gi
ven anything to hear those words. Of course, he was no longer doing his dance of death. “I promise I’ll protect you. I promise, Fern.” He was like another person. Dare I say, nice? His strong arms made me feel secure. Nodding, I closed my eyes.

  A chilly wind blew against my leg. I couldn’t see anything around me other than fog. Don thrust his blade in that direction, and it struck something solid. The sword glowed a faint yellow, and the world was revealed to me again. The creature looked more like a large, fuzzy caterpillar wiggling on the blade, its body twitching. The blade’s jagged edges, resembling teeth, came alive and devoured it, eating it whole. I cringed, but I was too tired to care much about the bloodwhisper’s fate. Upon finishing its prey, the sword’s light went out.

  The mists had a calming, sleepy effect. Bloodwhisper secretions floating in the mist left their victims comatose. Don’s blade had a resistance to the mist. It was forged with the bloodwhispers’ natural predator whose soul still lived in the sword, its resistant properties carried over. If Don held it, he would stay awake despite the tranquilizing effect of the bloodwhispers’ mist.

  I pressed my legs against him, trying to touch as much as I could. My smooth skin brushed over his rough hide; my sparser hairs mixed with his coarser ones. The mist grew thicker. Something fuzzy tickled the back of my neck.

  “Don!” I clutched his leg and buried my face into his neck. He speared the bloodwhisper. The blade chomped loudly near my ear as it gorged on the dead creature.

  “You’re okay. I’ve got you. There’s no way I’ll let anything in this mist hurt you. You’re mine, and I’ll protect every bit of you, from the curls of your hair to the pores of your soft skin.” Why Don recited a poem to me, I had no idea. It seemed a weird time, given the circumstances, but the time had come for alphas and betas who had survived to bond.

  My mind filled with the call of my alpha, asking for my loyalty, making me want to yield of my own free will. Making me feel safe for the first time that night. Nodding into his neck, I clung to his chest. His arm, not holding the sword, held me tightly.

  “Don’t ever scare me like that.” I had known this time would be an emotionally driven one, but hearing Don expose his vulnerability was humbling. “When you were running down the hill, I feared I wouldn’t make it in time to save you.” He hugged me tighter. “All I thought was that I didn’t want to lose you.” He pressed his lips against my head. “But I got to you, just in time. I protected you.”

  When he wasn’t being all jerky and full of himself, Don could actually be a caring and gentle guy. “If something had happened—if I hadn’t been strong enough…” He held me so tight breathing became difficult.

  Already I’d heard his blade move twice, once to the side, and the other close enough to feel a rush of air on my shoulder. This time the bloodwhisper didn’t even get a chance to breathe on my neck. “I’ll kill them all for you, Fern.” He growled through the words. “Every last one.”

  I swallowed. Hearing my name spoken like that made me feel vulnerable. “Don?”

  “I protected you that one time in the gym lockers. I could never forget you. The way your eyes looked scared yet sad. I wanted to give you everything, to protect you, to make you happy. I remember thinking how perfect you were. How if I had to pick a mate, it would be you. How you were the only one I wanted. Now and forever.” Don’s grip loosened until it wasn’t so painfully tight, even though he still held me securely.

  I was at a loss for words. Don had protected me in school that time?

  I’d been in middle school, and a group of seniors—all alphas—started bullying me. The leader was an alpha named Brigacos, although everyone called him Brig. He was the most vicious to me.

  He’d begun taking off my clothes to humiliate me, but before he could finish, a voice had stopped him. I never saw the speaker. Commanding but caring, he had told me to run away, and I had listened, never turning back. Not even when I heard them fighting. After that, Brig and his posse never messed with me again. Never in my life had I imagined Don was the owner of that voice.

  “It—that was you?” I nuzzled into his neck, my eyelashes collecting the sweat on his skin. I had been to many holiday parties after that incident. All that time, Don had noticed me? I never would have guessed that given we never spoke, and he always looked so cool, like he didn’t have time for pups like me.

  His sword hadn’t been idle, still feasting off slain bloodwhispers, him moving it as we spoke.

  Don’s soft smile was in his voice. “You were adorable and sweet. You needed someone strong to protect you. To help you grow. When I became an adult, I waited for you to join the Offering. From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you. Needed you. Fern, I love you.”

  Hearing those words froze my mind. Don loved me?

  Don tipped my head up, and his lips covered mine.

  He kissed like he fought, demanding and with intent, making me take it. Of all the times we fucked, he had never tried to kiss me. Now he claimed my lips like he had every right to them. The coppery taste of blood lingered in my mouth—mine, his—and something else. His taste. Masculine. Addicting. Calling for my submission. Sounds trapped in my throat, encouraged by the way he molded my lips to his, yet silenced by his mouth on mine.

  When our lips parted, he cupped my face. “Give me everything, Fern.” Gently, he licked my split lip caused by his strike, cleaning it up for me. Tender. Caring. His gesture comforting, and in a night of nightmares, I craved this safety.

  I ended up falling asleep and awoke beneath his weight. He’d trapped my hands on either side of me. Pulling back, he took some pressure off me. He was a full-fledged werewolf. His claws dug into my aching wrists, drawing blood. His tongue soothed my bruised cheek from earlier before his fangs reopened the wound, making it bleed again. Slowly, he put more of his weight on me. I tried to break free. Realizing I was helplessly trapped, I whimpered uncontrollably. Gently, his tongue caressed the wound again before it dipped beneath the skin. At the prick of pain, I sucked in a breath.

  He nudged my head to the side. My bare skin tingled between my neck and shoulder, where he planned on putting his second claim mark.

  He was one mark closer to having the legal right and ownership of my body. He sank his large canines into my skin, and nothing could stop me from crying out. His fangs dug deeper, and blood pooled from the bite. Tears crowded my eyes as he claimed me hard. Pulling back, he licked my cheeks, leaving a hot, sticky trail of what smelled like blood where my tears used to be.

  He got off me enough to free me completely of my clothes—ripping my shirt, tearing open my pants. Then he threw my knees apart and got between them.

  In the moonlight, his reddish-brown cock looked more like a spear waiting to puncture my ass. Its bulbous head gorged with blood. The base swelled with seed, the knot already growing.

  Shivers raced down my spine. I prayed he’d stop and desperately wanted him to continue. I needed him to put me in my place. I belonged beneath my alpha. He needed to make that clear, once and for all. I hated those thoughts, but my instincts blinded me, making me yield.

  He grabbed my thighs and aligned me to his cock. My body ached with arousal, and my inner walls slickened with beta juices. His shaft plummeted into my hole, its large, mushroom head spreading my ass wide. Pain, pleasure, and everything in-between had me twitching and gasping. A heavy pulse thudded along the vein in his cock and sent tremors down my hole. Throwing my head back, I screamed at the sky. He growled down at me, my blood dripping from his fangs. His knot plugged up my ass.

  “Fuck…” I dug my fingernails into the Mating Quilt, helpless but wanting to grab onto something. His fangs sank into my first claim mark. Tearing open the wound, he feasted on my blood. My body trembled beneath him. Inside me, his knot held me in place while his sperm filled me. His cock poked and pressed against my inner walls, looking for a place to hollow into a womb. That would allow me to carry his pups. Each movement wreaked havoc on my nerves. The pleasure was so inte
nse it danced over my closed eyelids. Shameless cries escaped my parted lips as I moved with his thrusts.

  “Submit. To. Me.” The thickness of his cock glided along my tunnel. He planned to cum inside me, deeper this time like he was breeding me. “Say it.”

  “I submit,” I whispered. At some point, the knot swelled so large that it restricted his movement. He continued to pump inside me anyway.

  “Again, my little Fern.” He branded me with his cock, rubbing me raw, marking his territory. We weren’t official, and he shouldn’t be giving me a breeding mark. He did anyway. Pain blurred into pleasure until no distinction could be made. “Who owns you?”

  “You!” I screamed in agony before I moaned loudly, falling over the edge. I chased my orgasm, drowning in hot waves of pleasurable bliss. The more I sought release, the farther his seed traveled in my body. Don growled a purr of contentment. He kept coming until he finally finished and rolled off me.

  I panted, fully spent. He collected me in his arms and nuzzled my cheek. His breaths were harsh against my ear. I couldn’t believe he’d given me a breeding mark. Those were supposed to happen after the mating process was complete. Like a signature, each alpha had a unique breeding mark, but he didn’t need one for him to create a uterus in me—his cock and alpha essence were enough. That wasn’t why he’d marked me. By giving me his mark, Don had signed his name inside me. Gave me something final. He must’ve been extremely confident he’d win me in the Third Offering. Whenever he set his mind on something, he always got his way. I was a lost cause. And worst yet, I wanted it.

  I awoke in Don’s king-sized bed. I must have passed out hard because he’d had time to not only carry me to the car but take us all the way to his place.

  Don’s scent was on the pillows. And the sheets. And me. Rolling over onto my back, I hid my face behind my arm. I could still feel him inside me.

  Last night had been the most horrific of my life, and Don protected me through it. I didn’t get a single scratch from the molebats. My lip was busted, and my cheek was scabbed from Don’s strike, though. I remembered his fangs reopening the wound during sex. While I was high on arousal, I had said some awfully embarrassing things to him. I replayed our conversation in my head. How he had commanded me to submit. He had even got me to say the words on my own volition.