4. Fenrir

CHAPTER 4

Fenrir

T he witch is here. I can smell him.

Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead on the grounds of Vincent ó Flannagáin. Though, should he find out I'm here, I will be. That is, if I wasn't confident I could rip apart his pretty vampire flesh. He may be immortal, but even his kind take time to recover from being thrashed to bits. I'd only be showing him the same kindness he showed me.

Fucking bloodsucker.

Only one thing could bring me here, and that's the chance to take down the Blackwood witch who destroyed my pack. The vampire's insult is nothing in comparison to the witch. So if it takes a little fight to get past the blood teether in order take down that son of a witch, so be it.

It would also normally be a problem for me to be shifted already. But luckily it's Halloween. Or, unluckily, too. Lucky for me I can blend in, but unluckily, it gives the fucking witch a leg up—veil being lifted and all.

He's here . My senses attune to his scent as soon as I catch it in the air. The crowd is thick, the people dancing and making out and all sorts of other things, completely oblivious to how dangerous it is they're in this particular house. I'm no do-gooder or I'd give them all a heads up. But there's more important things on my mind.

Maybe they'll get the message once I tear that fucking witch limb from limb. He's moving fast through the crowd, leaving his scent on dancer after dancer.

But there's something else in the air, too. Something that nearly makes my heart stop. But it can't be. I rush faster amongst the crowd, doing my best to be delicate with the precious humans, hoping I don't scratch them too hard in my pursuit. It takes everything in me to not go down on two legs—I'd be so much faster. But as far as any of these people know, I'm just a guy in a costume.

A really, really big, really accurate wolf costume. I even left my flannel and pants on, knowing they'd rip and stretch across my transformed body and sell it more as a costume. The pants are fucking restricting, though. My cock feels like it's up my god damned ass. There's gotta be a kink out there somewhere for that, but I'm not about to film the porno.

He's in a fucking pumpkin head and… a dress? Hell of a fucking disguise.

I reach a claw out and grab him, pulling him close. He struggles against me, his tits bouncing—

Wait.

"Shit. Fuck. Sorry. I thought you were someone else," I tell the woman.

I'm hit with so many smells all at once.

The Blackwood witch.

This woman's arousal.

Fucking ó Flannagáin.

And worst of all?

My fucking mate .

I swallow hard, trying to calm my cock and the primal, driving need to rut that sparks up in an instant. When we were younger, the only way I could stop myself from touching Autumn was to torment her. She must hate me by now. No one ever falls in love with their bully.

But I had to. She needed to be protected. Autumn Woods was the sweetest, quietest, kindest girl to ever exist. I couldn't ruin that.

"Yeah, who'd you think I was?" she scoffs. "Crazy how you wake up one day and people just can't keep their hands off of you!"

She's never raised her voice at me before, not even when I made her life miserable through high school.

"I'm sorry," I say, realizing I hadn't even apologized.

She looks me up and down, letting out a small gasp when she takes in my full scope. On my hind legs, I'm probably around eight feet tall.

"People really go all out on costumes here, huh? Are those stilts?" she asks. "You probably can't see very well in there. It's fine. I can't see very well in mine either."

She taps the Jack-o-lantern on her head.

"Uh, yeah," I say. "Can I… Can I do anything to make it up to you?"

There's no way she recognizes me like this. My voice and my body are completely different. And I'm not about to spill the beans. If this is my one chance to get Autumn to look at me as anything other than her enemy, I'll take the chance. When I was younger, I didn't know how to control the wolf. Sure, right now, he's howling and desperate inside of me, ready to spring on her at a moment's notice, but I have coping mechanisms now. Given, they are about to break at the drop of a pin, but until they do, I'm gonna ride out this opportunity.

"Um…" she says, shifting on her feet as she thinks, looking over her shoulder anxiously. "I guess… Dance with me?"

I look behind her, trying to find where she might be looking. I want to ask why she smells like the witch and the vampire and… I don't think I want to know why her scent is thick with arousal. Is it too much to ask of her to let me overwrite whatever she experienced before? I might come in my torn up jeans if she gets too close. Whatever she's been through before is nothing compared to what it will be like for her when we mate. If we ever mate.

I can already tell this is a bad idea, but I can't stop myself.

The music is fast, thankfully. Neither one of us are particularly good dancers—especially not me in this form. Maybe as a human I stand half a chance at looking competent on the dance floor. But the fact that we both suck seems to be a plus in her book. She's giggling and laughing, falling against me. I pick her up and pull her close. She squeals with surprise before her legs wrap around my torso, her arms shooting to my shoulders.

"I'm too heavy!" she protests.

I snort, gathering my hands beneath her ass to pull her more securely against me—though above my hardening cock. She peers into my mouth before I snap it shut.

"Where are your eyeholes? And I assume the stilts connect at the knee?" she interrogates.

I clear my throat, releasing one ass cheek to point to my eyes as she starts searching my mouth and my chest for ‘eye holes.'

"My eyes are up here," I tell her.

She busts up laughing. I can't help but grin.

"God, it's so real," she murmurs, reaching a hand towards my mouth.

I snap at her playfully and she pulls her hand back with a laugh.

"This is real, my mate." I mean to only think them, but the words come out anyway.

"Mate, huh?" she giggles. "That's a lot stronger of a line than the last guy."

A whine escapes me before I can stop it. She laughs some more, burying her face against my chest. The pumpkin head is so bulky, it still separates us. She stops shaking eventually, her breath slowing as she runs her hands through my fur. It's a good thing she can't see my tail wagging like a fucking pet.

"Be nice, though. A big guy like you. Could probably protect me from anything."

"I would," I tell her. "From anything. Say the word."

"Sick em, boy!" she says, pulling her head up to look at me.

It was a joke, but neither of us laugh as our eyes lock through her mask. They're just as beautiful as I remember. Whatever is hurting her, I don't know, but I want to gnash my teeth and rip them apart for threatening her. Maybe it's the vampire… or the witch.

"This is gonna sound weird," she says with a laugh, "but let's keep our masks on."

"For what?" I ask, trying to hold her as she shifts in my grasp.

She leans in trying to get as close as she can with the mask on, the plastic pressing against my jaw as my snout rests against her neck.

"You wanna play at being mates?"

My whole world stands still as she says those words, her hips grinding against mine. She's too high up, so I take the risk and lower her gently. She gasps as her cunt aligns with my cock.

Autumn Woods is grinding on my cock.

"Oh fuck, you're huge," she murmurs.

I barely grunt in acknowledgement, afraid that if I let myself speak or do too much, she'll recognize me or change her mind, or somehow this strange little spell will lift.

Because if I don't fuck this up, the one thing I've wanted since high school will finally fucking happen.

I'm gonna knot Autumn Woods, I'm gonna claim her, and she'll never be able to get away from me again.