31. Thirty

The driver took us back to the closed restaurant. While he and Keres traded barbs, I ignored them, exhausted. I went straight to Shepherd’s SUV, curled up in the back seat.

I’d started the evening with such high hopes, dreams of a perfect date with a man I was growing to care for and trust. Instead, we’d gotten kidnapped and threatened, and to top it all off, I’d learned Shepherd was some sort of vigilante murderer. Tonight’s events left me feeling raw and hurt, and I just wanted it to be over.

Keres slid into the seat beside me, his presence both comforting and unnerving. His hand rested tentatively on my shoulder. I flinched but leaned into the touch, craving the connection I shared with Shepherd.

“Eli,” Keres said. When I didn’t respond, he growled it at me. “Eli, look at me.”

I forced myself to meet Keres' gaze, his intense brown eyes—like Shepherd's but with something more feral. He studied my face, hand heavy on my shoulder, and though I wanted to look away, I held his stare. I owed him that much.

“You're afraid,” Keres stated, his deep voice rumbling through the confines of the SUV. It wasn't a question. He could read me like an open book, just as Shepherd always could. “Of me. Of Shepherd.”

I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat. Fear churned in my gut, but it warred with a strange sense of safety in Keres' presence. He'd protected me, even if his methods were brutal and shocking. I didn't know how to reconcile the Shepherd I'd come to trust and care for with the man who apparently hunted down and killed criminals in cold blood.

“I don't know what to think,” I rasped out, my voice hoarse. “Shepherd, he... you...” I trailed off, unsure how to put my swirling thoughts into words.

Keres' grip tightened on my shoulder before he sighed, letting go. He ran a hand through his hair, so like Shepherd, it made my chest ache. “It’s not what you think, Eli. We have a code. We only go after the worst—rapists, murderers, human traffickers. The ones the law can't or won’t touch.”

I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around it all. “But you're still killing people. Playing judge, jury, and executioner. How is that right?” My voice rose with each word until I was nearly shouting.

“You think what happened to you was right?” Keres snarled, his upper lip curling. “What those sick fucks at the Children of the Light did to you? To me and Shepherd when we were kids?”

The reminder of the abuse I'd suffered, that Shepherd had apparently endured too, made bile rise in my throat. I swallowed it down, my hands clenching into fists. “Of course not. But that doesn't mean—”

“What punishment do you think Father Ezekiel will face if he’s caught?”

I swallowed. “Prison?”

“Where he gets a bed, a shower, a library, and three meals a day, rent free,” Keres growled. “Arresting him will only make him a martyr. He and his kind are a cancer that must be cut out.” Keres gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “We kill to protect. You’re safe with us.”

“But I don’t want to be safe. I want…” I trailed off, blinking back tears. What did I want? Safety, yes, but I had that. I was as safe as I’d ever be with some part of Shepherd. But tonight, I wanted comfort. I wanted someone to hold me, stroke my hair, and tell me it would be okay. Keres wouldn’t do that. He was Shepherd’s protector, and now mine.

I couldn’t wish Keres away or demand someone else come out. I couldn’t imagine how awful that would feel, and I didn’t want to add to his stress. Asking him to switch personalities for a hug was rude and selfish.

My eyes watered. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Yes, you do. Shepherd would explain this better. He’s good with words. I’m just…me.”

“I’m sorry.” I pushed my tears away. “I know you can’t help it. I know this is hard for you too”

“I can't give you the comfort you need right now, but I can keep you safe. That's my job.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, my trembling worsening. “I know.”

Keres was quiet, gazing out into the darkness. “What… What would he do for you now?”I thought for a minute. “Hold me. Tell me I’m okay.”

Keres shifted to face me, his hand hovering for a moment before gently placing it on my back. “You're… okay,” he said, the words sounding forced. “You're safe now.”

The warmth of his palm seeped through my shirt, fingers curling against my shoulder blade. It was a tentative touch, uncertain and clumsy, but tender enough to make my heart ache. Keres was trying, in his own way, to give me what I needed, even if he didn’t fully understand it.

Slowly, allowing me to pull away if I wanted, Keres slid his arm around my shoulders. He tugged me closer until my head rested against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat echoing beneath my ear. His other hand stroked my hair, jerky and unpracticed, like a toddler petting a cat for the first time.

“There, there,” Keres said gruffly, patting my head a bit too hard. “Everything will be all right, little rabbit.” He sounded awkward and out of his element. The feared protector, the feral alter who fought and defended, was lost when it came to comfort. But still he tried for me, and that only made me cry harder.

I buried my face against his chest and sobbed, not just from tonight's memories of the cult but for Keres too, who deserved comfort as much as anyone. His inability to give comfort told me he’d never received it, yet here I was demanding it from him.

I cried until my tears ran dry, Keres's strong arms around me. When the last shuddering sob left my body, I felt hollow but clean, purged of fear and pain, leaving only deep exhaustion in its wake.

I pulled back, wiping my face with my sleeve. “I'm sorry,” I mumbled, my voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

Keres studied me, his dark eyes unreadable. “Our mother said it takes strength to be vulnerable. You didn’t fall apart, little rabbit. You showed strength in your way. Shepherd would be proud.”

I nodded, glancing at my tightly clasped hands. My knuckles were white. I slowly unclenched my fingers, flexing them to restore circulation. I took a deep breath, the cool night air filling my lungs, the scent of asphalt, motor oil, and a distant siren.

These details grounded me, pulling me back to the present. I was here, not trapped in the past.

I looked back up at Keres. In the dim light from the distant streetlamps, his chiseled features were shadowed, making him look even fiercer and more foreboding. But there was a softness around his eyes I'd never noticed before, hinting at the man beneath the hard exterior.

Keres held my gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “I know this is a lot to take in, Eli. But you must understand, we don't do this lightly. Every target is carefully vetted. We go after the worst of the worst—the ones who slip through the justice system, who would keep hurting people if someone didn't stop them.”

His voice was low and serious, each word weighted. I felt the barely restrained energy thrumming through his body against mine. Keres was a predator, but in this moment, all that deadly focus was on helping me understand and earning my trust, even if it meant tearing down his own walls.

“This isn't a personal vendetta or a psychotic urge to kill. It's about protecting the innocent when the law fails and delivering justice the broken system can’t provide.” Keres's hand cupped the back of my neck, his callused palm warm on my skin. “I'm not a lone wolf, Eli. This is a family decision every time. Shepherd, me, the others—we must all agree before we act.”

I shook my head, staring down at my twisted hands. “I don't know if I can accept that. Killing is wrong, no matter who does it or why.”

“Is it?” Keres challenged, his dark eyes intense and unwavering. “What about war or self-defense? What about when criminals are executed? Even the law acknowledges some people need to die. The world isn't black and white, little rabbit. There are shades of gray.”

“This isn't war,” I argued, though my voice sounded weak to my own ears.

“Isn't it? We're fighting a war against evil, against the worst humanity has to offer—the rapists, murderers, abusers, the ones who prey on the innocent.” Keres's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Men like Father Ezekiel.”

The mention of Father Ezekiel made my stomach clench and my heart race. Memories of the abuse I suffered at his hands, the degradation and pain, flashed through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block the images, but they persisted, as vivid as the day they happened.

Keres's grip on the back of my neck tightened, grounding me. “Breathe, Eli,” he commanded, his deep voice cutting through the haze of panic. “You're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore. I won’t allow it.”

I sucked in a shaky breath, focusing on Keres's solid warmth beside me, his strength holding me steady. Gradually, my heart rate slowed, and the memories receded to the dark corners of my mind where they lurked, waiting for the next trigger.

I opened my eyes to find Keres watching me intently, brows furrowed in concern. “I'm okay,” I said, though my voice trembled. “It's hard to think about him. About what he did to me. To us.”

Keres nodded, his expression grim. “I know. But that’s why we do this. To ensure monsters like him can never hurt anyone else and give their victims the justice they deserve.”

His words struck a chord deep inside, resonating with the part of my soul that cried out for vengeance.

I wanted to believe Keres, to accept that sometimes taking a life might be justified. But a lifetime of being told killing was the ultimate sin warred with the raw, aching need for retribution pulsing inside me.

I leaned into Keres's solid form, breathing in his scent of leather, pine, and something uniquely him. Even with tonight’s revelations weighing on me, his presence calmed the tornado of emotions raging in my chest. Underneath it all, one truth crystallized: Keres and Shepherd would never hurt me.

They welcomed me into their home and lives, giving me so much. Now, they trusted me with their darkest secret. The knowledge settled like a lead weight in my stomach but was accompanied by a flicker of something warm and fragile, unfurling in my chest like a new butterfly testing its wings.

Belonging.

For so long, I’d been adrift, cast out by my family, abused by the cult, barely scraping by. But Shepherd and his alters gave me a place to call home, people to call my own.

Keres must have sensed my thoughts, as he nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his stubble rasping against my skin. His lips brushed my ear as he spoke, his voice a low, sensual growl that sent shivers down my spine. “We need to go home, little rabbit. I need you.”

The raw desire in his tone, the possessive way his arms tightened around me, had heat pooling low in my belly. Keres had never been one to mince words or dance around what he wanted.

“I need to be inside you,” Keres rumbled, his large hands sliding down to grip my hips, pulling me flush against the hard planes of his body. “Need to claim you, mark you, fill you up with my seed until my scent is all over you, inside and out. Until there's no question who you belong to.”

A needy whimper escaped my throat at his declaration. The idea of being so thoroughly claimed, owned, branded by this primal force of nature, had my cock swelling in my jeans, despite the day’s events.

My heart pounded as Keres drove us home, the tension between us electric and all-consuming. His words echoed in my head - how he needed to claim me, mark me, fill me with his seed. Possess me so completely that his essence seeped into my pores.

The rational part of my brain knew I should be processing everything I'd learned tonight about Shepherd's vigilante activities. But base need overrode higher thought, my body responding to Keres on a primal level. I craved his touch, his dominance, with a desperation that terrified and thrilled me.

We barely made it inside the apartment before Keres pounced, slamming me up against the door and caging me in with his powerful arms. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, a rumbling growl emanating from his chest.

“Fuck, you smell good,” Keres growled, his voice muffled against my skin. His tongue darted out, licking a hot stripe up the column of my throat. “Taste even better. Can't wait to get my mouth all over you.”

I whimpered as he nipped at my pulse point, my hips bucking involuntarily against his. I could feel the thick ridge of his erection through his jeans, grinding against my own aching hardness.

Keres wedged a muscular thigh between my legs, giving me something to rut against as his huge hands roamed my body, slipping under my shirt. His palms skated over my ribs, his thumbs brushing my nipples and making me gasp. He rucked my shirt up, breaking our kiss long enough to yank it over my head before his mouth crashed back onto mine, all teeth and tongue and raw hunger.

Large hands fumbled with my belt, Keres growling in frustration against my lips until he finally got it undone. He shoved my slacks and underwear down in one rough motion, letting them pool around my ankles. I was too far gone to care, stepping out of them clumsily as Keres manhandled me.

He shoved me against the wall and told me to stay with a growl as he tore off his own clothing. Literally. I heard the fabric rip in several places as he struggled out of it.

The sight of him nude never failed to take my breath away - acres of tanned skin rippling with hard muscle, thick thighs corded with strength, the cock jutting proudly from a thatch of dark hair. He was pure masculine power, an apex predator in human form, and he was all mine.

I made a small sound of surprise as he gripped my thighs and hoisted me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. The blunt head of his cock nudged insistently at my entrance and I gasped.

Keres spat into his hand, slicking up his cock with a few rough strokes before pressing the blunt head against my tight hole. There was no slow preparation, no gentle stretching - just the insistent pressure of his thick shaft breaching me, forcing my body to yield to his.

I cried out at the burning intrusion, my hands scrabbling at his broad shoulders as he impaled me on his length. The pain was sharp and biting, but beneath it pulsed a deep, primal pleasure. Being taken like this, claimed so thoroughly by Keres's beast - it tapped into some dark need within me.

Keres grunted as he hilted inside me, his heavy balls slapping against my ass. He gave me a moment to adjust before he started to move, withdrawing almost all the way out before slamming back in.

Each powerful thrust jolted me against the wall, my cock bouncing between our sweat-slicked bodies. But even as Keres pounded into me, hitting my prostate with expert aim, I could feel my erection flagging from the relentless onslaught. It was too much sensation, edging into overstimulation.

Keres didn't seem to care about my pleasure, lost in chasing his own release as he rutted into me. His eyes were wild and dark, glazed with feral lust. Keres pistoned into me with animalistic grunts and snarls, his hips smacking against my ass with bruising force. The intense, burning stretch bordered on too much, making my cock wilt between our sweat-slick bodies despite the deep ache of pleasure sparking through me with each relentless thrust against my prostate.

“Mine,” Keres growled, his voice guttural and raw. “My little rabbit, my sweet prey. Mine to protect. Mine to breed. Mine, mine, mine.”

His filthy words sent electric shivers racing down my spine even as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes from the overwhelming sensations. I clung to his broad shoulders, blunt nails digging into flexing muscle as I surrendered to the primal claiming.

Keres slammed into me over and over, his thrusts merciless and punishing. The thick drag of his huge cock against my prostate sent sparks through my lower belly, but it was too much, too intense. My spent cock hung limply between us, bouncing with each brutal snap of his hips.

I whimpered and tightened my legs around his waist, trying to find some relief from the onslaught. Tears leaked from my eyes as Keres used my body for his own pleasure, grunting and growling his possession into my neck.

“K-Keres,” I gasped out, my voice thready and weak.

But he was too far gone in his feral rut to hear my pleas. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise as he fucked into me at a punishing pace. The burn of the stretch and the unrelenting pressure on my prostate blurred the line between pleasure and pain until I couldn't tell them apart.

Suddenly, I felt a warm gush between our bodies. I looked down in shock to see pearly ribbons of cum dribbling from the tip of my soft cock. It wasn't a proper orgasm, just the physical result of Keres milking my prostate with his thick shaft. My body shook and spasmed, hole clenching around him as he wrung the release from me.

I flushed hot and trembled as I watched my soft cock twitch and dribble weak spurts of cum all over me.

“Look at that, so pretty,” Keres purred, swiping his fingers through the thick streaks painting my abdomen. “Your sweet little soft cock is still giving me what’s mine.” He brought his coated fingers to his mouth, sucking my release off them with a deep, appreciative groan.

I whimpered, my body wracked with tremors as Keres plundered my prostate. Over and over he hilted inside me, grinding against that bundle of nerves until I was delirious with sensation, incoherent pleas and praises spilling from my lips. My head thrashed against the wall, lost to the intense, full-body pulses of sharp pleasure-pain.

With a final, guttural roar, Keres slammed into me one last time and stilled, his cock pulsing deep inside as he found his release. I could feel the hot gush of his seed painting my inner walls, marking me from the inside out as he'd promised.

My own spent cock gave a valiant twitch at the sensation, dribbling a few more weak spurts of cum onto my belly. Keres growled his approval, grinding his hips against me to work his release in deep.

For a long moment, we stayed locked together, panting harshly into the charged air between us. Keres' powerful body trembled with the aftershocks of his climax, his fingers digging into the meat of my thighs hard enough to leave bruises. I whimpered at the mix of pain and pleasure, my head falling back against the wall with a thunk.

Finally, Keres shifted, slipping out of me with a wet sound that made me blush. I could feel the trickle of his cum starting to escape and my hole clenched reflexively, trying to keep it inside.

But before I could do more than gasp at the empty sensation, Keres was moving, lowering my shaky legs from his waist. He kept me pinned to the wall with one strong forearm across my chest as he dropped swiftly to his knees.

I barely had time to register what was happening before Keres's hot mouth engulfed my soft, sensitive cock. I cried out, my hips jerking at the intense stimulation so soon after my prostate-milking release. But Keres pinned me firmly to the wall, one huge hand splayed across my lower belly as he worked my length with lips and tongue.

“Ah! K-Keres, it's too much,” I whimpered, my fingers tangling in his thick hair. I wasn't sure if I was trying to push him away or pull him closer. Every nerve ending in my body felt raw and exposed, the pleasure edging into pain.

But Keres was relentless, suckling at my cock like it was the most delicious treat. He hollowed his cheeks, applying a strong suction that had me seeing stars. His wicked tongue swirled around the head, teasing the metal ring and flicking at the sensitive spot just beneath.

To my shock, I felt my spent member start to swell and harden in the wet heat of his mouth. The renewed blood flow was almost painful as my cock struggled to reach full hardness again so soon. I whined high in my throat, my thighs trembling with the effort to stay upright.

Keres kept working my cock with single-minded intensity, sucking and licking with a ferocity that stole my breath. His skilled mouth coaxed my shaft to full hardness despite its recent release, the blood rushing to my groin in an aching surge.

I mewled helplessly as he swirled his tongue around the tip, flicking at the piercing, the dual sensations of hot-wet suction and cool metal sending electric jolts straight to my core. My fingers scrabbled against the wall, seeking purchase, but Keres' grip held me firmly in place, pinned like a butterfly specimen.

Pleasure swelled and crested inside me, building to an almost unbearable peak. My cock throbbed between Keres' lips, the veins standing out in stark relief as he worked me over. Every pull of his mouth, every swipe of his tongue, stoked the inferno raging in my veins.

I gasped out, my head thrashing from side to side. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, carving hot trails down my flushed cheeks. It was too much, too intense, my every nerve ending raw and exposed.

But Keres was unrelenting, taking me to the base until I could feel the muscles of his throat fluttering around my sensitive head. He swallowed, the rippling sensation wringing a choked sob from my lips.

Keres bobbed his head faster, taking me deep into the tight clasp of his throat over and over. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth working my cock filled the room, mingling with my choked sobs and whimpers.

I felt like a live wire, every nerve ending sparking with white-hot sensation. Pain and pleasure blurred together until I couldn't distinguish one from the other, my whole being reduced to throbbing need centered on my aching cock in Keres' relentless mouth.

“Please, please,” I begged, voice cracking. I didn't even know what I was pleading for anymore. For him to stop, to have mercy on my overstimulated flesh? Or for him to never stop, to suck me down and swallow every drop I had to give until I was utterly wrung out and empty?

Keres answered my unspoken question by doubling down, his fingers digging into the hollows of my hips as he fucked his face on my cock with a single-minded intensity. Drool leaked from the corners of his stretched lips, dripping down to soak his bristly chin. His eyes watered, but he never closed them, staring at me with that feral, possessive heat that seemed to brand my soul.

I felt owned, claimed, utterly dominated in a way that went beyond the physical. Like he was devouring me, consuming every part of me, burrowing into my heart and mind and laying claim to everything I was and would ever be.

A keening wail tore from my throat as the intense suction and swallowing motions pushed me over the edge. My climax slammed into me, pleasure bordering on agony as my cock spasmed and pulsed, emptying itself down Keres' throat.

Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me, leaving me trembling and boneless in its wake. Tears streamed freely down my face as I sobbed through the intense sensations, my entire body wracked with shudders. It felt like every nerve ending was on fire, raw and exposed and overwhelmed.

Keres swallowed around me, milking every last drop from my spent cock. The muscles of his throat rippled and massaged the sensitive head, prolonging my release until I was babbling incoherently, begging him to stop, to keep going. I didn't even know anymore.

Finally, the pulses of cum slowed to weak dribbles and my cock softened between Keres' lips. He released me with a filthy pop, licking his lips like a satisfied cat as he rocked back on his haunches.

I sagged against the wall, my legs giving out as I slid down to the floor in a boneless heap. My chest heaved with ragged breaths as aftershocks twitched through my muscles. I felt utterly wrecked, my mind a static buzz of white noise in the aftermath of the intense climax Keres had wrung from my oversensitive body.

Keres loomed over me, his eyes still dark and wild, that predatory gleam undimmed. He licked his lips, savoring the taste of my release. “Look at you,” he rumbled, his deep voice thick with lust. “My perfect little rabbit, all fucked out and dripping with my seed. Marked inside and out, so everyone will know who you belong to.”

I could only whimper in response, my throat raw from crying out. Tears still leaked from the corners of my eyes, carving hot trails down my flushed cheeks. I felt flayed open, exposed in a way that went beyond the physical.

Keres scooped me up effortlessly, cradling me against his broad chest as he carried me to my bedroom. I curled into him instinctively, seeking his solid strength and warmth. As overwhelmed as I was, I still craved his touch, needing that connection to ground me.

He laid me gently on the bed, his large hands arranging my limp limbs with unexpected tenderness. I felt the mattress dip as he climbed in beside me, gathering me into his arms. I nestled against his bicep.

“Keres?” I whispered into the darkness. “Can you tell me a story?” I wasn't sure why I asked. Maybe I needed something softer than the rough claiming fuck. Maybe I just needed to hear his voice.

There was a long pause. “I don't know many stories.”

“Tell me about when you were younger. A good memory?”

Keres was quiet for a long time, making me think he wouldn't answer. Then he spoke, his words slow and measured, as if choosing each one carefully.

“There was a little stream behind our house,” he began. “Nothing to hunt but tadpoles and snails. Warrick and I would go there every afternoon, pretending to fish with sticks and leaves. It was one of the few times I saw dirt on Warrick during those lazy afternoons between school and supper—a rare time I could be myself. I was only hunting leaves then, but still.”

I smiled. The silence stretched long enough for me to put my head back down. I thought he was done, but Keres surprised me by continuing moments later.

“We took Xander, Xavier, and Xion out there a few times,” he said. “By then, Shepherd was in an adult body, and the triplets were toddlers. Watching them stomp through the creek and wrestle in the mud where Warrick and Shepherd used to play made me feel…something warm and happy. I haven’t thought about those days in a long time.”

I listened to Keres's quiet words, picturing a younger him splashing in a creek with his brothers. It was hard to see the fierce, battle-hardened man beside me as a carefree child, but a wistful note in his voice made my heart ache.

“That sounds like a nice memory,” I murmured. “I'm glad you have it.”

Keres hummed, a low rumble in his chest. “It was long ago. Things change. People change.” He paused, shifting, the blanket rustling. “But some things stay the same: the need to protect those you care about.”

The words caught in his throat, as if unfamiliar on his tongue. I wondered how often Keres allowed himself to care, to feel anything beyond the vigilance and aggression that drove him.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “For protecting him.”

Keres was quiet for a long moment. Then he nuzzled against my cheek. “Go to sleep, little rabbit. I’ll watch over you.”