Note: This series is a darker werewolf series not following the usual "plot" of fated mates.
Be aware of darker elements such a described violence and abuse.
-Chris-
Two months? Hah! It had already been three, and we were at the beginning of October. The weather was turning colder. The Moon Ball had just been celebrated recently, but for the first time in years, I hadn’t attended. I knew the king and the rest would be there, and I had made my father a promise to stay away from them.
But it wasn’t hard to gather information; news spread quickly. While I spent most of my time in my apartment in the city, I certainly wasn’t alone. No, I had my own Moon Balls here. Two females were satisfied and resting in my bed, though I hadn’t gotten much sleep.
So, I retreated to my living room, which faced the shining streets and buildings below. The wall was made entirely of glass, offering an incredible view as I sipped my drink. One of the females I had invited over was still awake, eager to continue the fun. She moved to her knees before me, pleasuring me while I enjoyed my drink and admired the view outside.
She kept that maddening back-and-forth movement, her cheeks hollowing as she worked me, building my climax. The sensation overwhelmed me, and I placed my hand against the glass wall, needing something to steady myself.
The feeling surged up my spine, causing my hips to buckle forward, but I made her pulled away. Then I lifted her from the floor and pressed her against the glass, grabbing her thigh with one hand while pressing myself into her.
She moaned deeply as I buried myself inside her. I turned my head, taking a sip of alcohol, before guiding the glass to her mouth. She swallowed, a little spilling from the corner of her lips, and I quickly leaned in, my tongue tracing from her throat to her chin and finally to her mouth. Our tongues clashed in a powerful, frenzied kiss as I kept thrusting into her, finding it harder to concentrate on kissing.
Soon, I had to pull away as the intensity between us grew. She clung to me, coming hard and screaming, the sound of her release filling the room. It felt almost intoxicating, knowing her mate couldn’t satisfy her the way I did. The mark on her shoulder almost gleamed in the moonlight, and I smiled cruelly, aware that she was here with me, not him. It made Damian’s words echo in my mind from back in April.
Stay away from the married and mated…
As if that was going to happen. I had been trapped in my apartment, slowly going mad. Of course, I would stir things up—making sure life stayed difficult for my father while keeping things fun for me. Still, guilt crept into my chest. I had told Speedy I was back home, but then I left just minutes after and hadn’t returned.
I really was a bad brother. But my father and I couldn’t be in the same room without starting a fight, and now that I was no longer small and weak, there was a real risk I might kill him—or he might kill me. This was for the best.
But now wasn’t the time to think about it. The climax was building again, and that sweet release rolled through my body as I thrust deep and hard into the woman, coming and filling her up. While this might be heaven to someone else, it was hell for me.
In the beginning, it was fun, but eventually, the meetings, s*x parties, and fighting became more about claiming some control over my life. I hoped it would make my father leave me alone, but I had been wrong.
And while the satisfaction would last a few minutes, I’d soon feel restless again, pacing, needing to get the energy out through either s*x or fighting. I could never truly relax. It was another kind of torture, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.
As the female I had forgotten her name of was recovering, I heard my phone start to ring. I had placed it on a glass coffee table nearby, and even from here, I could see the caller’s name displayed. I smiled cruelly as I moved us to the couch beside my phone.
The female was on her back as I withdrew, but I quickly grew hard again, wanting more. I turned her around just as I grabbed my phone and began to thrust into her again. She gasped loudly before her hands gripped the leather tightly, causing it to creak under her rough treatment. The cruel smile remained as I lifted the phone to my ear. My free hand rested firmly on her hip as I maintained a slow pace.
“Father,” I said, a bit out of breath.
Christopher, catching you at a bad time?
I glanced down at the female, who tried to be quiet, clearly not wanting to be discovered and risk someone telling her mate about this, as if they could tell from her moaning that she was a mated female.
“Not at all. Just f*****g a mated female on my couch,” I said, full of arrogance.
The female looked over her shoulder with anger but quickly forgot it as I reached between her legs and rubbed her clit. She moaned in delight as I continued to drive her close to the edge.
Christopher, my father sighed, sounding annoyed.
Good, I thought, let him be annoyed. It felt like a victory if I could make him lose his cool just a little and see that fake mask that he carried crack.
“Well, you better speak fast if you don’t want to be drowned out by the female’s scream. She is close to coming.”
I could hear my father grunting angrily. How could I be his son, he probably thought, but I refused to believe he hadn’t been through his share of females both mated and unmated.
“So?” I asked.
Tomorrow.
“Tomorrow?”
The day when you will meet Madeleine.
I paused for a second, hearing the woman whimper beneath me. But the hesitation was brief—shock quickly turned to anger, and I picked up the pace, thrusting harder and faster, drawing even sweeter and louder sounds from her.
Damn it, the old man has actually pulled it off, I thought. Despite how protective they were of their youngest daughter, he had managed to twist her parents’ arms behind their backs and finally get them to agree. My anger surged, burning through me. Once again, he had won. Once again, he controlled where I went and with whom. I couldn’t believe it.
“What time?” I growled.
Seven p.m. Be there. On time, and not drunk! he snapped before hanging up.
I growled as I stared at the black screen. Then I turned my attention back to the woman beneath me and channeled that anger into every thrust.
-Kaytlyn-
“Okay, one, two, three, go!”
The shots were lined up before me, but I knew this would be a piece of cake to win against the male who had challenged me. One perk of owning my own bar was that I could drink on the job.
I took shot after shot, pouring them down my throat as if they were water, not even showing any signs of struggling to swallow the liquor. No, this was too easy. As I placed down the last shot while he still had two to go, I was declared the winner, and the people around us cheered.
“Told you, you couldn’t beat me!” I said arrogantly.
I was glad there was a two-foot-wide piece of wood between us because the male didn’t look happy on the other side of the bar.
“You cheated. I bet you poured yourself water instead of vodka.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of me. Those males were always so arrogant. It hurt their egos to lose to a female, which is why it was so fun to see them lose.
“Sweetheart, take a whiff,” I said, lifting up my shot glass. “That’s vodka, and you lost. Don’t challenge a bar owner next time.”
He groaned as he realized I was telling the truth. I quickly cleaned up the shot glasses, then placed a crystal glass before him and poured him some whiskey.
“On the house,” I said.
This seemed to diffuse his anger, and he gratefully accepted the drink before getting up. While it was fun to win over them and see their egos diminished, I didn’t want anyone to stay angry. I needed my customers just as much as they needed me to provide them with their daily poison. It was a win-win situation.
As I looked down the long bar, watching the many people sitting in the dim light—talking, shooting pool, drinking—I found the whole situation a bit amusing. I never thought this was where I would end up, but life can take crazy turns, and we all have to survive somehow.
When I took over this bar from its previous owner, I had never before mixed a drink. I still wasn’t very good at mixing cocktails. They tasted good, but I didn’t make many. That’s why I had two other bartenders.
“Hey, Kate!”
“Ralph,” I said, smiling as a big, broad male appeared in front of me. He sat down in the spot where the other male, who had just lost to me, had been. Ralph was a scary guy you didn’t want to mess with. He had tattoos, was bald, and was rippled with muscles. We had a little flirtation going on, and while I wouldn’t act on it, it was fun to joke around.
“Finally going to invite me upstairs?” he asked.
I placed a glass on the counter and poured him some bourbon. “In your dreams,” I said, winking.