This story has some non-consent appearing here and there: If you don't like such things, please don't read. Other than that, enjoy!
-Rinique
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They howled even though they hadn't shifted forms, the sound sharp and frightening, raising hairs on the back of his neck. Leaping over a decaying log, covered in moss and mushrooms, Damien looked to his right, sensing movement. In the distance, he saw one of the females crashing through the brush, her path would collide into his a few hundred yards ahead. Crushing vegetation underfoot, the young werewolf held his side where a jagged branch had sliced his side, drawing blood.
Dammit!
Cursing mentally as crimson liquid spilled over his fingers, he put everything into running; his chasers would smell the blood, their senses finely tuned even while in human form.
"Da-mi-en! Where are you? Come out, little puppy!" A male called out in a sing-song voice, somewhere behind him. Another to his left was taunting him, long grass swaying as a body forced a way through. Sweat shining on his ivory face, Damien followed his path, fighting down his panic. If they caught him before he made it to where he was supposed to meet his lover...
"Gotcha!" Rico, the third in command, suddenly burst from the bushes infront of him, tackling him to the ground. Shrieking, Damien kicked at the wolf, pleading as he tried to get away. Teeth snapped, seeking any part of his flesh, trying claiming him as mate. Scuffling in the dirt path, his wrists were pressed against the ground, keeping him down.
"No! NO!" Placing one well-aimed hit to the groin, Damien then stood, covered in forest, and sped away.
A chilling, resonating howl sounded behind him; turning to the right on the well-trodden trail, Damien gave a shaky laugh of relief, his destination near. Ivan would meet him at a cul-de-sac, veering off the path and ending in a blocked off area with plenty of things to hid behind. If another wolf came his way, he'd escape through a earth hole, dug the day before in preparation of his run.
It was a pack ritual where the werewolf that wished to find a mate would run and whoever bit the runner first would become their partner. In this case, Damien ran from the other wolves, hoping that his already lover would find him first. They had shared each other's bodies yet never made love, forbidden unless they were marked and mates. It looked like they'd manage...
Finally, a small path headed to the left into a sheltered part of the forest; turning, Damien began to slow, breathless. Ivan wasn't there yet so, as they decided yesterday, the young one hid behind a huge log, fungus plants growing on the rotting wood aiding in his camouflage.
Ivan...Please hurry...
Unable to draw any strength, he swayed as he knelt, still gasping for breath. Their only chance. With a shaking smile, he ran fingers around the circle of gold on his ring finger, caressing the smooth surface.
* * *
"Sweetheart," A ring was slid on his finger, gold and engraved with his lover's intials. Staring at it, dark eyes growing wet with tears, Damien touched the band, lips parting with a silent question.
"I'll do my best to get to you first tomorrow...And if...I'll always love you, Damien." Whispered on his lips, his lover captured his mouth in a searing kiss, muffling the sobs that began. If things didn't work out, they'd be separated and never again hold one another again.
* * *
This was the only way they could be together, him and Ivan. To be claimed as someone else's and have a relationship with another could earn him death for infidelity. Werewolves mated for life. Brown orbs warmed at such a thought of him and Ivan being lovers for life, to wake up next to each other. He had been 18 when they had first met, and two years of cuddling and loving, brought them here to try to become true lovers. Shaking his head, he noticed leaves caught within his shaggy black hair. Sweeping some of his locks over a slim shoulder, he began to free leaves and twigs.
Running full out, Ivan turned down the path, praying with all of his heart that Damien was there and unmarked. The howls were growing closer - did they smell the blood too? - and above the cul-de-sac ahead, was a grassy cliff. Some of the pack were scaling down trees and vines to where Damien should be hiding. With a final spurt of speed, he entered the small clearing, coming to the path's end. Moss-covered rocks blocked him off any further, trees siding the cliff while bushes flanked in varying lengths. The area was bathed in moonlight, casting everything in a gentle blue,
"Damien?"
The English accent called out for him to answer, drawing closer. Standing too quickly, Damien fell back on the ground once more with a nervous giggle,
"Ivan! Gods, I was afraid you'd-" He gave a warning cry, racing to try and stop another werewolf as it emerged from a large clump of bushes, hand ready to cast a blow to Ivan.
"Ivan! No!" Tripping over something, he braced himself, arms spread, catching his wolf before they both fell onto the ground. Dirt rose in choking clouds, musty with the scent of mold and earth, brown eyes squeezed shut at the irratating grains.
"What a good little puppy you were to wait for me." His body began to tremble in fear, tearing eyes raising from the ground to fall upon a towering wolf. He was nameless, but Damien was certain it was one of the enforcers that kept the pack in line. Gathering Ivan in his arms as best as he could, the smaller wolf tried to drag him from out of the intimadating shadow of the chaser,
"I didn't know where you'd be so I followed this idiot, and I'm glad I did..." Stalking forwards, the wolf leered at him, adjusting his belt, a hunger alive in his cold gaze. Frantic fingers parted the unconsious Ivan's lips, tried to force his lover's mouth to open in hopes to have him break his skin to mark them.
"I-Ivan! Please! O-open your-
No!
" Abandoning Ivan, the younger struggled to get to his feet, kicking up dirt. Half-blind, he ignored his stinging eyes as he made for the dug hole which was far too small for the larger wolf. He could faintly hear the sound of a zipper parting, the crunch of twigs under foot, the laughing and taunts; the sound of his pounding heart was louder. Throwing himself on his stomach, Damien scuttled forwards, nearly diving into the ground. Intense relief swelled in his chest, the shaking that had started fading as more of him disappeared in the- a large hand grabbed his ankle, dragging him back out.
"No! No! Let me go! P-please!" Dirt scraped under his fingernails as he desperately grabbed for anything to pull himself away but the tunnel walls had no hand-holds of any kind. Kicking his legs furiously, the young wolf grabbed at a root protruding above the dug hole which he was extracted from. His foot met the enforcer with a sickly crunch,
"Fuck! You little bitch!" With a snarl, the wolf threw the younger down onto the ground, elicting a cry from Damien. Now crying with fear, brown faltered as they dared to meet the smoldering green of his chaser.
"P-please, why are you doing this?" Fighting down sobs, he began to crawl backwards, held tilted up as he pleaded thickly. "I-I love Ivan, please, I don't even know you! Please!"
"I love it when they beg."
Grabbed by his hair, Damien screamed in pain as he was flung away from the cliff wall he had been edging back against. Dirt rose once more, drying his throat even more as terror reigned. Shouting his protests, he tried to get back onto his feet as a knee pressed into his back, forcing him down on his stomach. Lashes were wet with tears as his clothes were ripped from his body, face darkening with shame as he continued to struggle. His blind blows hit but the larger wolf paid no heed to whatever damage, if any, and suddenly lifted his hips off the ground.
A sobbing cry escaped him, his body thrashing to get free - this was so wrong. He wasn't fast enough, he was't quick enough for Ivan. The mating ritual was always true - it was to test to see if lovers were worthy of each other. To seek and find, surpassing all trials. And he failed miserably. Freezing cold hands gripped his hips, tugged them back.
"Don't! Please! Oh Gods, don't!
I-DON'T-WANT-TO-BE-WITH-YOU-FOR-THE-R-REST-OF-MY-LIFE!!!
" His screams rapidly became a piercing shriek, every thing going into that one sound of utter defeat. Spine bowing, he sobbed, clawing at the ground to get away, to maybe turn Ivan's face away. His lover would open his eyes and the first thing he'd see was him being fucked...
"You must want it, you little bitch, you're already moving for me!" The wolf grabbed his wrists and held them back, making the younger bent forwards; without warning, he shoved himself deep inside the other's body. Damien slammed forwards against his restraint, giving a heartrending cry of agony as his shoulders nearly dislocated.
The earlier screams and shouts of Damien had signalled their location, and in within minutes, the rest of the pack had entered the cul-de-sac and stopped there. The loud declaration of Damien brought tears to some eyes, mostly the younger wolves of his age; they hugged the person closest to them and cried silently at the terrible pain given off from the runner. Some glared at the two in envy, some shook their heads sadly, turning their face away at such a terrible but law-abiding act. It was their pack's way.
Sobbing with his cheek pressed against the cold dirt, Damien squeezed his eyes shut, still trying to escape as his ass was forced into the air. Oh Gods, he wanted to die right now, his arms protesting in pain as they were still forced back, locked in the wolf's large hand. Whimpering, the wolf continued to ram his length into him, stabbing at a vicious pace. And if the physical pain wasn't enough, the wolf taunted him. Called him degrading but true names. He was worthless, pathetic, and a fuck tool. That's all he'd ever be now that his dreams of being with Ivan were crushed just as his virginity was.
"Start bucking again, baby, I love your ass!" With a laugh, the wolf dropped his arms; bringing them round with gasps of pain, Damien tried to claw away again, body rocking at the fierce thrusts; after one last attempt, he gave up, falling forwards until his lower body was the only thing in the air, being held by gripping hands, fingernails digging and drawing blood. The crimson trailed down his thighs in rivulets, sliding further as he lurched forwards from the fast, rough pace.
