He was crouching next to the werewolf in the end of a back alley, who was supposed to be his protector, but was now instead laying in front of him on his side, his middle torn so hard his entire stomach looked like one big blob of blood. He was at lost – what to do? His hands moved above him, too afraid to touch. He’d hurt him, he was sure, and maybe their instincts worked like in the movies? Or as of wounded animals? Would he change, would he attack?
The man he was working for in this realm had given him a guard. It is not safe for mere human to go around if two third of the population was still seeing you as threat that should be taken in to the council for killing. Damn that project! Why couldn’t it be done in one house, had to be divided?
He heard footsteps approach behind them and froze, when he saw, who it was. A huge man dressed casually and in slippers? Only, the man’s hair went all the way down to his collar, very light blue like icy snow. His nose was small like dogs and his ears were small, but far enough to stand out against the streetlight.
“It’s alright,” the man offered without hesitation.
“A yeti!” Robert whined.
He smiled, like brushing the title off and leaned down to pick up the unconscious wolf.
“It will be alright now, wolf.”
He watched as the man propped him up on his one hand and started slowly caressing his collarbone area soothingly. Then his eyes fell on the human and he nodded for him to follow without a word.
The yeti led him back to what he understood as his apartment, up from a separate door and stairs to the second floor into a small apartment of two beds, kitchen corner with large hearth and a table in the middle.
“You have to stay here for few days, until your guard heals enough.” He said, setting the wolf down on the bed closer to the hearth. The other bed had not been done and Robert understood this didn’t belong to anyone at the moment. Despite the small spaces, no obvious decorations, not even a proper paint, it was clean.
“My name is Dagur.” The yeti offered with a slight nod.
“Robert.” he said without hesitation. Usually he wasn’t good at judging people, but the yeti oozed calm that eased his mind and he felt puzzled how easily he’d given him his name.
“It’s all right,” Dagur said again, “I won’t hurt you. I saw what happened.” Robert glanced at the single window, which was probably looking out on the street. “I woke up on the shouting, but when I looked out, they were already gone. I hate when they fight here. Gives this street a bad reputation.” He gave him a slow smile before turning back to the wolf and began removing his jacket. It revealed a trail of claw marks the metal hitter had left behind. “He’s got pretty bad wounds, but he will heal, given time.” He rose, returned to his kitchen and set old cauldron on the heat. He started going through cabinets and collecting herbs before tossing some in the cauldron with the water.
“I have some antiseptic!” Robert offered, realizing he was collecting medicines and dug into his backpack. He brought out his first aid kit and offered him the bottle. “It cleans the wound so it doesn’t fester.”
The yeti eyed the bottle with suspicion at first, but took the offered thing and nodded thankfully. “I’m sorry, I can’t read English. I only learned how to speak it.”
“It says it’s a light alcohol that eats through the murk.”
“Alright, as long as the scent doesn’t stay. Wolves don’t like strong scents and if it doesn’t dissolve quickly, it can make him sick.” He rolled the bottle in his hand. “But, I don’t have anything his stomach will hold against anyway – my herbs are not meant for wolves. I guess we’ll have to risk it then.”
He added another set of herbs into the boiling water and turned back on the wolf, thought a moment and then went out, returning with a bucket which he set aside the bed.
“Alright.” he said quietly and began unwrapping the t-shirt from where it had stuck to the wound. The wolf groaned out from pain. It seemed it jerked him out of his sleep, because next they knew he was wide awake, his shining eyes taking in the stark blues ones above him in this warm, but dark room.
Before either of them could do anything, he was up and stood by the front door.
“Get away from the yeti!”
Robert was confused. He jerked his head towards the blue mountain of calm standing next to him. He couldn’t understand, why was he so angry. Sure, he was hurt, but that would not cause him to react this way, would it?
The wolf reached out his hand. “Come on!” He saw from the man’s eyes that he wasn’t convinced and he seriously wanted to hurt the man now. What was the point of being his body guard when he trusted every warm body walking their direction while ignoring his orders. Wasn’t that why they were here in the first place? Because the monkey descendant wouldn’t listen to his reasoning and just had to come to see if the cats of this world resembled theirs. Stupidest reason ever to be cornered by street thugs.
“Move!” Woren shouted, but didn’t dear to get any closer. The yeti was much bigger than him and would have no problem hitting him to the wall, finishing him off completely. Especially with the wound he was now desperately holding together and could feel oozing his own blood all over his hand. Damn knife!
He saw yeti’s eyes glint against the warm light coming from the fireplace. It made him jolt back against the door. He had to get Richard out of there!
The yeti raised his hands. “I’m not gonna hurt you, wolf, but I must warn you, if you keep up this antics, you will be in much bigger trouble than you are now.”
“Get away from that yeti!” It hurt to roar, his entire abdomen ached as he could feel the mucles near the wound rip each time he tried to put more power in his voice.
“Stop calling us that. We are not yeti, we are Yeren.” The huge blue yeti retorted and explained to the human. “We would prefer you calling us that.”
“I would prefer you die! Let’s go!” He reached for the human standing behind the yeti, looking terrified.
“Then you’d be dead, wolf.” He answered without pause.
“I rather be dead, yeti!”
“And with you your ward. Will he be your casualty?” Dagur waited for a moment for it to set in his foggy thinking before adding.
“M-maybe we should go…” Robert started wearily, but Dagur shook his head.
“You are stuck here, I’m afraid. Unless your protector here wants to leave a trail of blood all over the town, drawing in ferals.” He waited for another long moment before moving towards the wolf, whose shoulders slumped against that perspective. “Come back to bed and we’ll clean up that wound of yours.”
The bed reeked of Dagur. Woren couldn’t stop wrinkling his nose against the strong scent of his just slept in bed and realized the yeren had given up his own bed and he was now bleeding all over it while he made quick way with his t-shirt, removing it and waiting for him to lay lower so he would be flat against his mattress. He seated Robert behind his desk to wait, seemingly uninterested in anything else but his wound. He returned a moment later with steaming cauldron which he lay on the chair next to bed, added few cupfuls of cold water from the bucket in the corner of the small kitchen and after testing the water, wet Woren’s own t-shirt in it and using it to clean up his wounds. He didn’t ask for permission, but with the amount of blood already soaked into it, he knew there would be no point to try saving it anyway.
The scent coming from the boiled herbs did make him sick. It caused him to lean over and empty his stomach into the waiting bucket. For an era full of modern computers, the medicine was still behind a whole century. The only modern thing he seemed to use, which Woren suspected came from Robert, didn’t smell much better and soon the mix of the scents was making him so ill he felt his mind float out of his body.
“Your ward wasn’t hurt.” Dagur said and Woren realized he had been too careless about his eyes, trying to assess if Robert had been hurt or not. “Stop it!” Dagur demanded and slapped his hands away as he tried to clean the last of the wound’s surroundings before pulling clean cloth on top of it and fastening it quickly around his stomach. “See? Already done.” Dagur nodded and pat him on his chest as if it was his second nature, not even thinking about it. Had Woren been expecting it, he would have avoided the intimate move, but he froze instead. Dagur was gone before he could argue against it. Then he returned with the new rags to make a thicker layer around it and sat back on the corner of the bed, gesturing him to raise his ass a bit so he could move freely around him.
“So!” Robert started and Woren let out a quiet groan. He knew this was coming considering how he’d been staring at them for the last quarter of an hour.
“What’s the story between your kinds?”
Woren glared at him, but the way Robert towered over him with his hands clasped under his own arms made him sigh before explaining.
“Their kind used us like dogs. We live longer than them, so when your master died, you would get your freedom, given you didn’t die before. But often they would kill us together with them. It wasn’t the sort of slave status you get with I-buy-you, more like I-steal-you kind. They would choose puppies based on their fur colors before they were at the age of turning and then trained them like animals with none of their own will.”
“They hunt us now.” Dagur said without humor, sad even. “Turn on your side.” He waited Woren to follow his suggestion while he continued. “They kill us on site and walk away, leaving children watch as their mothers die. Because to kill a young goes against their nature, while to kill a grownup is for honor.”
The last one was spit out with hurt that hit the human home. His heart went out for the big blue calm monster, who was attending the silent wolf’s wounds with tender touch.
“There. This should help for a while. Make sure his temperature doesn’t get up more. If it does, wake me and I’ll get us new cold water from the well.”
Woren heard Dagur’s words and he knew what he meant. It was true they had taken up to get revenge for all their lost families that they had destroyed, but it had also been before the big war. Nowadays the amount of honor killings had gone down and less and less were done in the past years. However, there were still many, who had lost their parents through either side’s actions and often they would take up the path of their ancestors and start the monstrous tradition all over again to get even. The vicious circle had no end.
The bed still smelled like him and although most of the warmth on it was now from his body, he could still feel it if he pushed his senses, the odd tingling he felt imagining his big body sharing this bed.
He listened how he prepared the other bed, pulling a small chest from under the bed and filling the room with freshly scented laundry. He dozed off after that, coming around only few times during the next day while Dagur urged him to raise himself a bit to drink something from the goblet he pressed against his lips some times, in others, it was warm and salty. It was cold and soothing.
Next time he came fully awake, was after a loud crash and jerking of the bed. He pushed himself on his elbows only to see brick wall. The bed jerked again and he turned just in time to see Dagur’s drowsy expression before his eyes widened and he was pulled from the bed, from his view.
He turned around and saw six wolves enter the flat. They had broken down the door and wasted no time to pin Dagur’s big body against the wall, two wolves holding down his hands while third one locked his palm around his neck and pressed hard. Dagur’s body started to shake, fighting against the werewolves holding down his hands to get to the man keeping his neck in hostage.
Two other went after Robert. That got Woren’s attention and he pushed up, winching from the pain.
“The human is with me!” he shouted to the one standing a bit back. Despite his first confusion, he recognized the wolves. They were his own pack.
“Human’s with me!” He repeated, shouting for the two to back off. Beta’s eyes jerked on the human. “He is my ward!”
That seemed to do the trick and the wolves backed away.
“Help him.” The Beta said and the two headed to his direction instead, helping him up. “Can you move?” he asked and Woren nodded. “Let’s go.”
He was helped to his feet and Robert quickly joined him, caressing his backpack.
“Hey! Stop that!” Robert shouted suddenly and Woren’s eyes turned to see the wolves lashing down several punches to yeren’s kidneys.
“Shut up, human!”
“The kid is right,” he started, winching as the second punch hit the yeren on his spine with sickening crack what could only be bone. “Hey!” he pushed the wolf on his right back as he tried to silence him. “Stop that! He hasn’t done anything but help-! Hey!”
Next thing they knew the beta grabbed his elbow and pulled him out, others pressing the now very loudly protesting kid with them. He tried to look over his shoulder, shouting for them to stop. Suddenly he didn’t like this anymore. He saw the two, who had held his hands, let go just in time for the middle wolf change his hand to claws and hit Dagur hard in the face, destroying his left side of the face and Dagur fell as his head hit hard against the brick wall behind him.
They were dragged out of the house and downstairs on the street, where he started fighting for earnest.
“Damn you!” Beta roared when he let out his last line of defense and bit into his arm to be let free. He was punched hard in his chest before the beta ran him into the wall.
“Are you his lapdog now?” Beta pressed, his teeth flashing.
“No! But he…”
“He saved us! He healed him!” Robert screamed, terrified to the core.
“I said enough!” But something in what he said had gone through. “But he said the yeren got to you!”
He sounded confused.
“Who?” Woren demanded to know.
“Both the human and the wolf paled enough that they let them go immediately.
“He’s the one who attacked us!” Woren explained before gasping. “I have to see if he is alright!” he demanded, but the beta pulled him away and down the street.
“No!” He ordered. “He deserved his faith! Now come on!”
From there it went fast. Robert was returned to his place at work and returned to his realm soon after, leaving Woren now sitting and waiting for his wounds to heal. He couldn’t leave, because he was ordered to stay in the house until the culprit had been dealt with and he learned quickly that their entire ordeal had been nothing more than row of bad luck. First Robert wanting to check out the feline creature in the back alley, where Toma had been hiding with his gang. The yeren had been causing them trouble for a long time now and they’d used them, made it look like the yeren had attacked before running off to his alpha to organize a rescue party.
His employer, Yasri liked keeping his employees in the house with him. Hatangy was not a place you would run around wild and if you were working for someone, who could afford security, they tended to keep their staff near them, offering their own houses often for their own protection while under their employment. He belong to the firm until he would be released from his contract and as he needed the money, he could not fight on personal grounds.
But he couldn’t wash down the image of his beta’s right hand taking out Dagur. The blue eyes that had steeled themselves the moment he’d realized his faith, locking on his attacker instead of Woren, had him grabbing his stomach each night when he was left alone. The rest of his time he spent sitting out of others questioning stares. While other employers didn’t make much of it, thinking he was still healing, then Yasri had other ideas.
“Here!” Yasri tossed him a small bottle after calling him in a week later.
He caught it with an ease.
“I’m releasing you for a week to heal.” He said when Woren looked confused.
“Robert told me about what happened in details. So I owe you both. You two saved Robert and you can never imagine how grateful I am for that. I need you with clear head though. I heard your pack hurt him quite bad, but yeren, they are tricky folks, they heal far slower than werewolves do. Especially if they can’t feed. Go check him out for me, will you?”
Woren nodded, pressing the bottle deep in his pocket and left the house immediately. It was already late, past dinner, but he wasted no time to get back to that street and find him. He was about to run into the house, when he stopped suddenly, seeing Dagur come out with a bucket.
His heart leaped. And then dropped, as he watched him move searching support from his house’ wall. He walked slowly, agony written in every step and stopped for far longer to sit on the small bench next to the well, holding his head still between his palms before continuing pulling up the water.
He continued watching as he walked back to the house and despite there being only the light from the hearth that lit the room he could clearly remember, he saw him lay down on the bed in front of the window almost immediately after returning.
Tricky, if hadn’t eaten, that’s what his employer had said.
He turned around on his heel and headed back to the city with new clear plan forming in his head. He searched the biggest bar he could get an easy companion from and parked behind the bar table to wait.
An hour later he was back behind Dagur’s door and knocked hard, taking a deep breath first and trying to keep up the boy waving on his hand. The boy was practically sleeping, slumped over his hand like wet shirt.
“Who is it?” the groggy question came, but instead of answering he knocked again, this time harder to get his attention.
“I’m coming, stop -”
The door opened. Dagur stared down at them with what could only be read as frustration and he shook his head, eying first Woren and then then his companion.
“Go away, wolf! I’m in no mood to -”
“This isn’t a social visit, yeti.”
“Yeren.” Dagur corrected.
“Whatever. I see you’re not healing well, so my hunch was right. You gotta eat to heal, right? What I can see, it’s taking way too long.”
“That’s the law of nature, isn’t it? Look, wolf, I don’t want you here.” He started pushing the door closed, but Woren pressed his boot between the door and Dagur had to open it again if he didn’t want to crash his foot.
“Your healing is taking too much time – if the usual food won’t cut it, you are allowed to use other sources! So! Meet your lunch!” He patted the heaped over boy on his chest few times.
Dagur stared straight at him without blinking. “Well,” he said after a while with spark of hurt in his voice, “thank you for your concern, beast, but I have a headache the size of a castle! I can’t concentrate even if I wanted to, thus I won’t eat until this pain lessens!”
He turned around and went back towards his bed.
“You worry too much!” Woren gave him a nervous smile, happy that the yeren hadn’t sent him away. Probably decided to wait until he’d leave on his own, but at that moment this worked in his advantage and he pushed the boy in.
“I’m not -” Dagur slumped back on his bed, but jolted uncomfortably when he saw the wolf pull the boy into a long hot kiss. “What are you doing?” He demanded, but instead Woren continued the kiss, deepening it, before back-walked the boy towards his bed. Dagur pulled away, out of his way and pulled his legs up on the bed. He watched as the wolf grabbed and roughly massaged the buttocks of the boy, who was only now coming around. The wolf’s face grimaced a little, probably from the alcohol oozing around the kid in a cloud, but he continued, leading him closer to his bed frame.
Dagur could smell the boy’s arousal getting stronger. There were other sources of food, Woren had gotten that part right. But he’d search a willing victim in the night time on the streets and wouldn’t bring him home though. Especially, when he was after the warmth rising from the body’s reaction.
His stomach growled. He hadn’t felt that hunger in a long time, keeping his life steady and calm and thus needing no such sustenance aside the market food. The wolf knew.
The boy protested suddenly with a whine. “I don’t wanna be doubled!”
For a moment, Dagur expected the boy to run, make a hasty exit to the door. He wouldn’t stop him, he wouldn’t let Woren stop him either. Woren clasped his cheeks with his both hands and forced the boy to look up at him, straight into his honey brown eyes.
“You won’t be, I promise.” Woren confused him further with his kisses, making him dizzy.
Woren turned the boy over, pressing him on towards the bed until boy’s knees touched the edge of his sleeping place.
“Ever tried riding a yeren?” He asked, his eyes stuck on the yeren while he continued soothing him into action. “They say their dicks are so thick and icy they cool the pain in your ass before the heat of their seed burns your inside out? When they shoot, it is definitely thicker and reached higher in you than any other creature can manage? Nice and juicy, filling you up all hot.” Woren’s tongue slipped out and he bit in the earlobe only inches from his large teeth.
The boy climbed on the bed, dazed, straddling the yeren. Dagur gulped and his eyes locked with wolf’s.
Dagur felt intrigued, but his head was still injured and throbbing so hard he couldn’t get into the mood even if he’d wanted to. So he continued watching as the wolf’s hands kept traveling up and down over boy’s body, massaging tenderly his nipples, his nose and tongue caressing the back of his neck and watched as the boy’s hips began to work.
The wolf seemed exited too. Not so much as the boy, but he could smell it clearly.
When the boy began to shiver slightly, his breathing getting more ragged by the minute, Dagur pushed up from where he was laying and pulled the boy away from wolf’s grasp, into his kiss and down to where he was laying. He could feel the wolf staying behind, breathing easier. He didn’t like it. The way things were, the boy would be spooked too fast and the energy would flow away, into nothingness. He shot his hand up and grabbed hold of Woren’s arm, tugging him gently to follow his pull and lay on top of the boy.
Woren didn’t know what to do exactly, but he knew he wasn’t mistaken when he failed to sense any changes in Dagur’s scent. The yeren clearly wasn’t aroused. But he could recognize a man so hungry he would kill on site and that’s what he saw in Dagur’s eyes.
However he could feel the boy losing his arousing scent while Dagur’s hands searched an outlet, which they seemed to get from brushing over his thighs in his jeans. He let out a small moan, which Woren recognized as him enjoying his food. But it seemed the boy was losing his taste, because he seemed to sober up a bit and Dagur let out a small whine of disappointment.
Woren grind into the boy’s ass, moving the hand he wasn’t leaning on under the boy and jerked it between his trousers. The scent got stronger and he felt Dagur respond with involuntary hip thrust upwards.
“Yes, that’s it,” he swoon, watching for a moment as Dagur’s lips hungrily pulled in the warmth from the other person’s mouth turning them lightly blue, “feed!”
Dagur kept sucking, moving the lips around only to coach the boy to create stronger connection. He pushed upwards every now and then when he felt the tasty energy flow lose some in its flavor and reminding himself that he couldn’t be picky right now. This wasn’t his own choosing, he wouldn’t have ever chosen someone so tiny in body, but he was still thankful for the gift.
Soon though, the boy was empty. Not enough to cause real concern, but enough to give bitter aftertaste. Dagur didn’t kill his victims. He drained them to delirium of a weird dream and then tossed them out. Only, this time Dagur realized he wasn’t in control of it. But still he felt the body being pulled up and gently jerked aside before Woren followed him and dragged the heavy body over to the other bed. Dagur watched him produce a small bottle, press the boy’s lips open and pouring the vile into his waiting mouth, pressed the lips together and waited until the boy gulped hard.
“What is that?” Dagur asked, but he didn’t feel any power in him to stop whatever medicine Woren carried being pressed down the boy’s mouth.
Then the wolf returned, leaning over him and inhaling hard. “You still don’t smell right.” He frowned, but still climbed on the bed, straddling him now like the boy had done.
“Not enough.” Dagur whispered, his voice soft and eager as his fingers tangled into wolf’s jacket.
“I know.” Woren nodded, nuzzling his nose, pressing closer to his body.
“How are your wounds?”
“Already healed.” Woren whispered, nudging his upper lip with his own. “You can take the rest from me.”
“Yeah? I have more energy than most creatures. You can take enough to get rid of your headache and then you can go after whoever you want yourself.”
Woren felt yeren’s fingers climb to his cheeks and for a moment Dagur hesitated and Woren knew if he’d failed now, he would somehow force Dagur go through another feeding, search him a new willing victim, drag him here. But instead Woren felt Dagur’s lips come over his and he began sucking while deepening the kiss.
Woren let out a loud gasp before his hands gave in and he landed on his elbows and knees. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, was the last thing he thought, when he felt Dagur reach around his neck and pull him closer, his chest growing tighter as his muscles tired faster.
“Little more.” Dagur soothed him, licking over his lips. “What did you give him?” He asked again, whispering the question against his lips. “Did you drug him?”
“It was forgetting spell, nothing more. Courtesy from my boss. He’ll wake up in half a day and won’t remember a thing.” He kept kissing his mouth while grinding their groins together. Dagur still wasn’t reacting, but that meant very little to his seduced brain. There had to be something in his saliva, he decided. His hands were beginning to shiver under the pressure and he hated to give in now, when he was way too close. Too close to…
He gasped, feeling his belt being yanked higher while Dagur’s fingers worked their way past the zipper and straight into his pants, grabbing hold of him while he kept smothering his lips.
“What are you doing?” Woren managed, but the hand behind his neck pressed him back down.
“You need your trousers later, don’t you?” Dagur’s voice was husky. “Don’t worry, I have you.” He nudged his nose a bit and began moving his hand. “Relax, puppy, I got you.”
Whatever he did, it worked. He woke up early in the morning the next day feeling warm under the same thick blanket covering him when he was sick. There was warmth oozing from the fireplace again and his mind immediately went back to the images of Dagur slumped against the wall next to it. He tried to stretch his legs, but they were oddly blocked.
“Why are you sleeping there?” he demanded, growling. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know, whom the large thigh belonged to.
“I’m not sleeping.” He heard Dagur’s voice. He sounded as if he was concentrating on something else aside Woren taking up his sleeping space. Second later he heard it was a book, because there was a sound of paper turning. “Couldn’t. So I took our young friend back to some bar and read instead.”
It suddenly dawned on Woren that there were two beds in the room, not one. Two, out of which Dagur could have taken the other one. The warmth bursting from his stomach made him wanna giggle.
“Mhmh.” Woren agreed, snugging his feet against Dagur’s thigh. His mind was too soggy to concentrate properly, especially now that he knew Dagur was fine. “I hope it’s a good book.” He mumbled for last before succumbing in a new dream.