by Tanya Chris
“Don’t,” Gage said. “Don’t try to stop it. I shouldn’t have complained earlier. I like it. I like it a lot.”
He leaned forward, seeking more of it out. Ryker visibly relaxed and the scent came like a flood, surrounding Gage, pulling him even farther forward until he was out of his chair and partway across the desk. Ryker shifted too until they met in the middle. Gage’s nose brushed Ryker’s neck. He shuddered forcefully, rocked to the core by a longing more intense than anything he’d ever experienced. He belonged right here.
A broken whimper choked out through his nose—a high-pitched keen he didn’t know himself capable of, the whimper of a seeking omega.
“I’ve got you,” Ryker said. His hands came up to steady Gage’s forearms and then Gage found himself lifted, pulled right across the desk like he weighed no more than the form he’d been filling out. In a moment he was in Ryker’s lap, cradled, cocooned, his nose still pressed hungrily against Ryker’s neck, the whimpers changing in tone from seeking to found.
“I’ve got you,” Ryker repeated with his mouth against Gage’s hair. “It’s going to be OK.”
How ridiculous, to be snuggled into a stranger’s lap, but Gage had never felt more at home.
Chapter 2 Ryker
Ryker didn’t want to let go of the trembling wolf in his arms, but when Gage tried to push to his feet, he didn’t have much choice. He made sure Gage was steady before releasing him entirely and then tried to reassemble his Immigration Officer image, which he’d made something of a shambles of. Cuddling was definitely not in his job description.
If that had been an omega across from him, probably any alpha would have sympathized with Ryker’s need to provide comfort, but Gage wasn’t an omega and didn’t belong to him regardless, so there wasn’t much to justify his display of alpha dominance, especially since North Leland wanted to make sure everyone had the autonomy they deserved. Hauling wolves into your lap to soothe them was inappropriate behavior, not that Gage had been objecting.
“We can head out tomorrow morning,” he told the wolf who still smelled too anxious. “It won’t take more than two days by the most direct route. You have a place to stay tonight?”
Gage shook his head. “I came straight here when I got into town.”
“You’ll come home with me then,” he said, phrasing it more like an order than he’d meant to. “It’ll, uh, make it easier for us to get an early start tomorrow.”
What he really meant was that it’d make it easier for them to fuck. He didn’t know why his reaction to this omega—beta, he reminded himself; Gage was a beta—was so strong, but he absolutely had to fuck him, and since Gage was a beta, it would be fine to do exactly that.
Not that an omega couldn’t fuck whoever they wanted. That was one of the concepts Head Alpha Marta’s son-in-law Leo was forever preaching, but society evolved slowly and Ryker would never fuck an omega he didn’t intend to claim. But a beta was a different story.
Truth was, it’d been a long time since he’d had sex with anyone of any caste. He embraced the principles of his new pack because he agreed with them. He absolutely did. Omegas were wolves like any others, and they deserved to be treated respectfully. But what he believed and what he wanted were very different things.
Equitable, mutually-respectful sex left him flat. He’d rather jerk off to porn that catered to traditional caste roles or to his own vivid imagination—telling the imaginary omega beneath him how to take it, pushing the omega’s imaginary face roughly into the bed, knotting him ruthlessly with the full power and fury of his alpha cock—than pretend to enjoy a real-life joining as equals.
He couldn’t understand why he was so desperate to take Gage to bed, considering that he’d need to be physically and emotionally respectful of him, but he was. He’d just about taken him right there in his office. When Gage had used the word sex and that scent had come off him—the scent that had Ryker forgetting both that Gage was a beta and that they were in a government building—he’d very nearly been across the desk and on top of him.
And he was almost certain Gage would’ve welcomed him. The way Gage had curled into his body, seeking out his comfort and warmth, those little whimpers of fear settling into whimpers of desire—Ryker’s body was strung tight.
He rose from his chair, knowing that the bit of cloth he kept wrapped around his loins at work would do nothing to disguise how tightly strung he was. His bulge was a mound, a coil of nearly-hard flesh eager to be set free so it could fill the rest of the way out. He walked around his desk and loomed over Gage who’d resettled himself into the guest chair, putting his dick on a level with Gage’s mouth. Gage’s gaze fixed on it.
Ryker counted the seconds until Gage raised his eyes. Twenty. It’d taken Gage twenty seconds to look away from his dick. Yeah, they were going to have some good sex tonight. Maybe Gage wouldn’t mind being manhandled a little. He hadn’t minded being dragged across the desk. Ryker resisted the urge to tug Gage forward into his groin and took a step back. Time to get him home.
Out in the lobby, he made a point of giving Macy a lot of instructions for how to handle things in his absence, even though he’d already admitted to Gage that she wouldn’t miss him. Gage had Ryker’s wolf on edge, and it needed to show off.
Macy blinked her eyelashes at him like it was Morse code for “what the fuck are you going on about?” but she let him finish his macho posturing before turning back to her computer with a dismissive, “Have fun!” As though he were planning a sex romp through the woods rather than a heroic mission to shepherd an omega and her brother across treacherous terrain.
Not that there was anything actually treacherous about Northern Pack land. It was mostly trees and small woodland creatures, some snakes who’d rather mind their own business. Nothing really deserving of a full escort, but—
Ryker straightened away from the counter that separated the claustrophobic lobby from Macy’s tidy desk and turned to Gage who looked a lot more impressed with him than Macy had. Ryker kind of loved the way Gage looked at him. He’d noticed Gage’s attraction as soon as he’d walked into his office, how Gage’s gaze had skimmed him up and down, lingering on that narrow strip of cloth.
It was vain of him, but Ryker had to admit he liked the way the loincloth bundled his package up into a giant bulge, especially when his dick was chubby, which it had been since stepping into that room. His dick enjoyed being noticed, and Gage took every opportunity.
He paused for a moment so Gage could have another chance, and Gage didn’t let him down. Who knew how long they’d have stayed there like that—Gage’s eyes locked on his bulge and Ryker frozen by the pleasure of being watched so worshipfully—if Macy hadn’t cleared her throat in obvious dismissal. He opened the outer door and gestured Gage through it, following along behind him so he could check out Gage’s ass.
Gage was wearing a pair of human dress slacks, which nicely framed his ass, and shoes that were completely impractical for walking through the woods but were pretty and made his feet look small like he wouldn’t be able to run very fast if Ryker chased him. Ryker’s wolf snickered at the thought of easy prey.
Gage’s top half was completely covered in a long-sleeved shirt with buttons, something Ryker had only ever seen on humans, but he didn’t have a coat and Ryker caught him shivering. Ryker himself didn’t even own a coat. He didn’t get cold often, but when he did, he shifted.
“You want to shift?” he offered politely, but Gage reacted like he’d said something horrible. He shook his head with tight movements, and that sour smell came off him again. It was no wonder Ryker’s wolf kept emitting pheromones. It could hardly be expected to do otherwise when an omega in his protection—or, well, anyone in his protection—was so obviously distressed. It was in his nature to take care of little wolves like Gage. Especially little wolves who were begging to be fucked.
He put an arm around Gage and pulled him into his side, tucking Gage’s head down so that his nose landed against his throat.
It was awkward to walk with Gage plastered against his side, but Ryker lifted him up onto his toes so he was more carrying Gage than running a three-legged race with him, then set out getting them home as fast as he could.
“It’s only September,” he pointed out to Gage. “The snows’ll start soon and then it’ll really get cold.”
“The city I live in gets snow, but not for another month at least. I didn’t realize how much further north you were.” Gage shivered again, despite being pressed into Ryker’s side. “I should have planned this better,” he added, sounding dejected. “I don’t shift.”
“What, at all?”
If Gage wouldn’t shift, the trip down to human territory and back was going to take a lot longer than two days each way.
Oh well, he hadn’t been lying when he’d said no one would miss him. He liked being an Immigration Officer because he was an immigrant himself, but the process was just one big formality. They didn’t do any real vetting anymore, not since Head Alpha Marta had decreed that everyone was welcome.
“I don’t like to shift,” Gage said, and that sour smell rose up so strong that Ryker had to stop and bury Gage’s face in his chest to make it go away.
“Don’t worry about shifting,” Ryker told him. “We’ll find you a coat.”
“It’s warm like this.” Gage’s voice was muffled by the flesh surrounding it. Ryker could feel his lips moving like a caress.
“Then you stay right where you are, little one.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around the wolf in his arms so that his pecs formed a deep valley Gage could nestle into. Gage smelled good now—light and happy and safe and a little horny. Ryker breathed in deeper. Maybe a lot horny. His own dick wormed around inside its pouch, intruding into Gage’s stomach. Gage was too short for their cocks to line up properly. Ryker picked him up, so that their cocks could rub against each other, and carried him.
He caught a few curious glances as they neared the marketplace. He didn’t have a mate and he wasn’t known for fucking around since he preferred good fantasies to mediocre realities. Maybe some of the odd looks were because he was carrying around a beta, but fuck that. People should mind their own business.
Being in the market did remind him that he didn’t have any human food at home. Having never learned to cook, he usually just shifted and hunted and ate whatever he caught raw, but raw game wasn’t appealing in human form.
“We’re going to need to pick up some food for dinner,” he told Gage. He set him down on his feet and curled him back under his arm. “Maybe something pre-cooked.”
“Pre-cooked? Are you kidding?” For the first time, Gage sounded excited and confident. “Let me cook. I’d love to cook for you. Let’s see …” Gage looked around the market with a calculating gaze, the cold seemingly forgotten. “What can you catch?”
“Rabbit, squirrel. Can’t count on running across a deer, but if there’s one out there, I’ll take it down.”
“Rabbit’s perfect.” Gage dashed off, leaving him to plod along behind with his arms increasingly full of carrots and garlic and potatoes and … he wasn’t even sure what some of it was.
“I’ll make us a stew,” Gage said. “And for dessert—” and then he was off again to the other side of the market to purchase another set of bundles which also got loaded into Ryker’s arms. Ryker kept nodding at the merchants to add whatever Gage picked up to his account. He refused to let Gage pay for anything since he was hoping that the real dessert would entail a bit of, uh, tail.
Gage followed him back to his house on the edge of town, swinging their last purchase—a basket of eggs for breakfast in the morning—and chatting happily. Ryker kept sneaking peeks over at him, caught up in Gage’s smile and the lilt in his voice. In a foolish moment of fantasy, he imagined the two of them doing their weekly shopping together—Gage choosing and him toting and the two of them returning home to snuggle into their cozy nest stocked with comfort food.
The reality, when Ryker bumped open the door to his cottage with his hip, was somewhat different. He’d been renting the one bedroom home for a few years, but no one would have believed it. The little round table in the kitchen and the over-stuffed couch in front of the fireplace belonged to his landlord. There was a rag rug in front of the couch and another under the table, but both of those belonged to his landlord too, as did the single painting which hung over the mantle and which Ryker couldn’t have described despite having lived with it for more than three years.
His only addition to the décor was a bookcase. He’d made it himself from local wood and it stretched the entire length of one wall. The bookcase housed his extensive … oh, shit … porn collection. There were books and magazines and DVDs and they weren’t all porn, but they were mostly porn.
He moved quickly across the living room into the kitchen, hoping Gage would follow him.
“Let me help you put all this away,” he said, diving into one of the bags he’d dropped on the counter. Gage came over and shooed him away, so Mission Distract-Gage-from-the-wall-of-porn had been accomplished.
“You go hunt,” Gage said, checking over his tomatoes to make sure Ryker hadn’t bruised them. “I’ll get the stew started.”
Ryker moved over to the back door which bordered onto the forest and stripped off his loincloth. Technically, he could shift with it on, but then he looked like a wolf wearing a diaper, which wasn’t the image he wanted to convey. The image he wanted to convey was this one: big, naked wolf, well, man right at the moment, heading out to hunt for his mate, um, houseguest. Yes.
Gage had noticed the loincloth coming off for sure. His face had that wide-eyed, shell-shocked look that omegas got in the porn Ryker liked to watch, like the big bad wolf was about to pounce on them and it was going to be really fucking good. Ryker took a step forward, ready to deliver. His cock, freed from its enclosure, swelled to full hardness as Gage watched like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
Fuck rabbits. Ryker wanted to fuck. And based on the expression on Gage’s face, he wanted to get fucked. A growl rumbled up through Ryker’s chest and he swore he saw Gage’s knees buckle in response. Gage was ready to be snatched. So ready. The scent coming off him washed over Ryker, pulling him forward. He growled again, just to see Gage shudder.
“Rabbits?” Gage prompted, his voice tremulous. He was in reach, but Ryker didn’t grab him. He only leaned forward and licked a long stripe up the side of Gage’s neck, then stepped away. His wolf preened when Gage almost fell over trying to chase after him.
“Rabbits,” he confirmed. He stepped out through the door, not shifting until he was on the other side because his mother had always yelled at him for shifting in the house.
He loved being in wolf form in the woods. The woods here weren’t much different from the ones back home, just more deciduous trees and fewer evergreens. September meant the leaves were coming down off the trees, forming a crunchy carpet that made it hard to sneak up on the wildlife he hunted, particularly since impatience made him move too quickly.
Gage had asked for three rabbits and when he’d finally bagged his third he found three was too many to carry in his jowls so he shifted back to human form and used human hands to carry them home. Gage’s head flew up when Ryker burst through the back door with his catch, and his nostrils widened as he caught the combined scent of blood and adrenalin.
The house smelled like a different place than the one Ryker had left—like onions and garlic. Gage had turned on a couple of lamps so it looked different too, warm and welcoming. He had an apron tied around his waist, something Ryker’s mother must have left because he’d certainly never bought one himself. The apron was decorated with flowers and had a frilly border of lace around the edge. It made Ryker wish there weren’t pants sticking out from underneath it.
“Can you, um, skin those?” Gage asked, timid like a human who only saw meat wrapped up in cellophane behind a glass counter.
He almost laughed, but making fun of Gage w
ouldn’t get him laid, so he took the rabbits back outside and found a skinning knife in the shed behind the house and skinned them. He was beginning to wonder if Gage would know what to do with a rabbit at all, but when he brought them back in skinless, Gage had it in hand. He chopped and sautéed busily, giving Ryker time to check out what else was going on in his house besides the cute wolf in the frilly apron making it smell like home.
Gage had set the table, not just with dishes, which Ryker did know he owned—he wasn’t a complete barbarian—but also an actual tablecloth and some candles, which he didn’t know he owned. The candles were lit and when Gage brought the food to the table, he turned off the overhead light in the kitchen so that the candles flickered warm and sweet in the otherwise darkening dusk.
Gage had set out crystal glasses too, so Ryker rummaged around in the cupboards and found an unopened bottle of youthberry wine. He filled the crystal and took his place across from Gage at the table, ducking quickly into the chair as he felt his dick plumping out again from the romantic tableau on display. He wanted to fuck, but the prospect of a home-cooked meal had him as eager to eat as to fuck.
He didn’t even need to taste the stew to know it was good. His nose told him that, but his mouth confirmed it. Gods, he should really learn to cook. Not that the hunt itself wasn’t fun and wolf-affirming, but this was so much better than a mouthful of squirmy fur.
He moaned around his second spoonful, a little on purpose. It was harder to see Gage’s reactions in the candlelight, but he could still smell them. He’d never encountered a beta who put out pheromones the way Gage did. He and Gage seemed to call them out in each other, like they were just made to fuck, and as soon as he’d savored every drop of this delicious stew, he was going to get right on that.
Chapter 3 Gage
Gage knew the two of them were going to end up in bed together. It was only a question of how Ryker would treat him when it happened. He hoped Ryker would devour him as enthusiastically as he was devouring the stew, and that he’d make those same yummy noises while he did it.
