Long ago, before anyone's grandfather could remember, there had been a war, between wolves and men. The wolves won, not only because they were stronger, faster, and more cunning, but because they did not betray their own kind, as did the men.
After the war, a peace was settled, so that man and wolf might live in unity, but only a wolf was allowed to hold the throne, because humans were easily corrupted, and could not be trusted with government.
Hundreds of years passed, and times changed. Things were forgotten, even by the long-lived wolves. A young wolf rose to the throne, and he was the best king the land had known for many centuries. He ruled generously and well, and was loved by his people. By his side he kept a human lover, and for many years they were happy.
But the Wolf-King found out that his lover had betrayed him, and he flew into a rage. "O, that I should have forgotten what my forefathers warned: humans are evil, lying betrayers. I was a fool to have loved one."
So did he have his lover put to death.
After that, the Wolf-King was changed. Wrathful and temperamental, he sent out a command that the humans would provide to him each day a virgin youth or maiden to be his mate for the night, and in the morning they were put to death.
Every night, the screams could be heard echoing for miles around the castle.
*
Shay pushed his way into the room, bickering with and shoving past any guard who tried to stop him. The night's sacrifice was in tears, mewling piteously, with long wailing sobs.
"Oh, god's fur, you're going to present that to his majesty?" Shay snaps.
The courtier overseeing the girl's preparations looks up. "Who are you?"
Shay lifts his head proudly. "I am Sharizade. You're going to present me to the king in her place."
"Just like that? This can't be done, you aren't sanctioned. I don't know who you think you are."
"What choice do you have?" Shay indicates the girl, who might've been pretty under the tears, but now merely looks ghoulish. "Let the King decide, if he'll have me."
The courtier nods. "We'll have to hurry, then. Strip."
*
Shay refuses make-up, even threatens to bite the cosmetic artists when they try to insist, so it is in the simplest of white ceremonial dresses that Shay is escorted into the court, his shoulder-length chestnut hair tucked with demure white blossoms. As the veils are drawn aside, he drops respectfully to his knees, but then raises his eyes boldly to gaze at the king.
The king's most respected advisor—a human, who has earned his position owing to his having wisdom and honor to match any wolf—leaps to his feet. "Shay!"
The Wolf-King turns to his advisor, puzzled. "You know this boy?"
"Your majesty," the advisor drops to his knees. "From my long years of loyal service, I crave your indulgence. This boy is my only son. I know he was not the one chosen to be your companion tonight, I have seen the girl chosen with mine own eyes."
"My worthy father," Shay interrupts. "And O, most beloved sovereign, I beg your indulgences." Shay stands, a proud, exotic beauty with dazzling gold eyes, tall and lithe, graceful in form, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. "It is true, I was not the one chosen for you. The maiden was, however, ill-disposed, and I begged to be given the honor in her place."
"You stand before me of your own free will?" The Wolf-King rumbles, intrigued.
"I do." Shay holds the King's gaze without fear or hesitation.
"My liege!" The advisor begs. "My son is not well, he knows not what he does! I beg you, I am an old man, my boy is all I have. Do not take him from me."
The Wolf-King rumbles, pacing forward. "It is an interesting dilemma you present, boy. What is your name?"
Shay is tall, for a human, but the Wolf towers over him by almost a foot. "Sharizade," he replies, voice raised only enough for the King's ears to hear, regardless of the entire court.
"And you know, Sharizade, that to be my companion tonight means to die tomorrow?"
"I am willing, my lord, to take that risk."
The Wolf stands close, challenging, demanding, and his breath is warm on Shay's neck. He studies Shay at a proximity that would make a normal man stammer with terror. Although he can sense Shay's heartbeat quicken a step, the youth shows no other signs of fear. His eyes do not leave the Wolf's face, and their gaze promises desire, and devotion. The Wolf has never seen such eyes, nor such depths of emotion, and he has never felt such lust as he feels for this strange reckless boy with eyes like the harvest moon.
"Why?" The Wolf asks, and he can hear the boy's breath catch, before he replies.
"I am of age, my liege, and I could desire no greater honor, than to lay down my body and my life for your majesty's pleasure."
The Wolf-King considers, brushing the soft pads of his fingers across Shay's cheek. The youth closes his eyes, turning his head into the touch, regardless of protocol, and kisses the Wolf's palm. When his eyes open again, there is a soft blush on his cheeks, and his gaze is deeper, smoky—sensual.
The Wolf turns, hand still on Shay's cheek, to regard his advisor. "For someone so clearly unwell in the brain, your son is undeniably convincing that he knows exactly what he does, my friend."
The advisor's eyes linger over the pair, distressed. "Your majesty."
The Wolf turns back to Shay, clearly enthralled by him. "But the youth is of age, and not only eligible, but willing. His paw slides lower, caressing Shay's throat. The motion elicits a delicious shudder from the boy. "I will mate with him tonight. I cannot resist so exceptional a gift, when it is freely offered. But because I so value your friendship, I will show mercy. Your son may choose his own fate, on the morrow. Is this acceptable?"
The advisor looks down as he nods, heartbroken in the apparent loss of his son. "Yes, your majesty."
Letting go of Shay, the Wolf-King returns to his throne. "Take him to my chambers."
*
Shay looks out the window at the darkening sky.
"It is usually an hour before he will hence, lambling," the old maidservant says.
"Yes," Shay nods. "I know."
"You know how he will mate with you?"
Again, Shay nods. "I am not afraid."
"Here." The maid presses a jar into his hand. "Do you know the use of this?"
"Yes. The ointment eases his entrance."
"More than just that, lambling. Use it liberally, now, and right before he takes you, if he allows it. He probably will not. It will loosen you, so that there is less… tearing."
Shay's hands shake slightly as he opens the jar of sweet-smelling ointment. "Thank you."
*
It is late, before the Wolf-King is released from matters of state. He finds Shay in his chambers, curled up in a chair, fast asleep. For a time, he merely watches his bride, carefully extending a claw to tuck a stray lock of hair back into place. Sharizade is even more beautiful asleep, features relaxed into a sweet innocence that somehow suits him even better than the fearless adoration he showed before the court. The wolf bends to smell him, and he smells of soap and spice, over the more delicious natural scent of his youth's skin. Rumbling a pleased noise low in his throat, the Wolf rests one arm on the wing of the chair, by Shay's head, and leans in to taste him. His lips are soft, inviting the Wolf to part them with his tongue.
Shay gasps, eyes fluttering open. He stares at the King, startled to find the Wolf's vivid green eyes so close to his own. He looks very innocent and defenseless, with his eyes wide and alarmed, like a startled lamb. It stirs something powerful inside the Wolf-King's soul that hungers, for such breathtaking prey.
"You were sleeping," the Wolf chuckles.
Shay blushes, finally dropping his arresting golden eyes. "I'm sorry, your majesty."
The Wolf lifts his chin with a knuckle. "Don't drop your eyes."
Shay smiles at him. "Yes, my lord." It's impossible to resist a smile on lips that beautiful, so the King kisses him again. One of Shay's hands steals onto the King's shoulder as he kisses back, wary of the Wolf's sharp teeth. When the kiss is broken, Shay gazes at him, soft and dazed.
"Why would you give yourself to me willingly, Sharizade?"
"Please call me Shay," he blurts, without thinking, and blushes once he realizes it.
"Shay," the Wolf rumbles, pleased.
"I'll tell you tomorrow," Shay says. "I promise."
He leans up, kissing the Wolf under his chin, and the Wolf-King laughs. He gathers Sharizade into his arms, and places him onto the bed. Shay shudders, when the Wolf tears the buttons from Shay's shirt, and runs his rough-padded paws—long-fingered and dexterous like human hands, but not so soft, and not so harmless—over his prey's bare chest. He follows the touch with a nip from his huge teeth that makes Shay gasp, with a flicker of fear in his heartbeat.
"You are not entirely without fear of me," the King observes. He strips Shay of his pants, and then stops, gazing upon him.
Shay lies exposed and vulnerable on the bed, raised slightly on his elbows. His rosy, boyish cock lifts, half-erect, from the nest of curls between his legs, but his skin is otherwise soft, unbroken, and almost completely hairless. He's even more beautiful now, with his cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes hesitant but willing. The King runs the pad of his thumb over one of the youth's strange, useless male nipples, and laughs, surprised and delighted, when it makes Shay gasp and arch in pleasure.