Authors: Marcy Jacks
Tags: #none
reincarnated into the body of a human, was presented to him.
He’d been wounded in the last battle, however, and Blasius had no
choice but to transform him into a werewolf.
Such a strange thing. Rhyan had been a dragon-shifter in their previous life together and then, after well over a thousand years of death, was brought back as a mortal man, and now was about to make his first true transformation into a wolf.
If only the man could remember their lives together. He might just find the situation as amusing as Blasius did.
There were other things on Blasius’s mind at the moment, however, and that was to make certain that Rhyan’s first transformation would not leave him wild. A man needed to become
one with his wolf once in a while, and the longer that passed without a proper change, the worse it was for the werewolf in question.
There had been several times when he’d nearly made the change in his anger and his need to violently fight back, but never had anything come to full fruition.
The day Blasius kissed him, foolishly hoping that the touch of their mouths would bring back Rhyan’s memories, Rhyan’s hands had become lycan claws, and he would have taken out Blasius’s eyes had not the warrior alphas named Mick and Adam come into the room to pull the man off of him.
He was becoming much too dangerous. They may have been properly mated in their former lives, but not anymore, and now that Rhyan had a transformation looming, it was imperative that they finish this.
Blasius would have rather the man remember him, but that was
not to be done, it seemed. He could only pray that Rhyan forgive him
for this when it ended.
He approached the cage. Rhyan gripped the bars tightly in his
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fists. Blasius wondered if the man was aware that his hands had
become claws again. He had been rather insistent that all that he had seen had been what he had called a hallucination, as though Blasius had drugged him with some magical substance. Ridiculous.
“Let me out,” Rhyan said, his voice hoarse, teeth becoming long and pointed. Blasius noted the way the coarse brown hairs began to poke out through his skin.
Rhyan hardly seemed to notice either the hairs or the blood that was sliding down the silver bars due to the ferocity of his grip.
According to one of the men upstairs with that strange electronic thing―Blasius was certain witchcraft had something to do with it―the moon would be entirely full in less than an hour.
He’d tried, God help him for the sin he was about to commit, but he had tried, and now they had to do it this way. They had to complete their mating. It was the last thing Blasius could think of that would allow Rhyan to more easily accept his wolf.
Blasius went to the cage and, using the small flat key and cloth he had been given, removed the lock and opened the door.
There hardly seemed a point as Rhyan had very nearly taken the door off on his own strength.
Rhyan lunged for him, his claws pointed at Blasius’s neck. Blasius acted fast, taking hold of Rhyan’s bloody hands and flipping him down onto his back.
He actually grunted with the effort of that. Rhyan was becoming
stronger.
Faster as well, because the man was already on his feet and attacking once more. This time he managed to swipe his claws down Blasius’s chest, and the sting was hot.
They could not be fighting like this. Not if Blasius was to claim Rhyan without either of them harming the other. They would have complete privacy here. Blasius had spoken to James, and the orders were that no other alpha was to disturb them, regardless of what they might hear.
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They were only to interfere if Rhyan were to somehow get by Blasius and escape the house. Then they were to stop him.
If Rhyan transformed into a wild werewolf, they were to kill him to prevent him from running wild in the nearby village. Blasius could not allow that.
When Rhyan attacked again, Blasius grabbed him by the forearms and once again flipped him down onto his back, but this time he did not release the man. He held Rhyan’s arms crossed over his chest, keeping the other man from attacking him.
“I’ll kill you!” Rhyan screamed, thrashing beneath him.
Blasius could not help that his cock throbbed. He could only hope that the mating went well, and that, if Rhyan were to ever forgive him, then the two of them might perhaps spar together, allow their hearts to pump and blood to rush with the effort of their good-natured battle, and then they would take each other.
It had been a fantasy the two had carried out in their former lives. Blasius would like to have it happen again.
“Do not fight me,” he said and climbed on top of his mate.
Rhyan’s eyes widened as another one of his bodily thrashes brought their hips together.
Blasius moaned at the fire that was suddenly in his cock, burning his entire body with the need for the man beneath him, but he could not go on, not while Rhyan still fought him. He thought he could, but he couldn’t force him. He was not that sort of warrior. He wanted the
consent. He needed it.
“Argh! Rhyan! I canna do this if you insist on fighting me! Please,” he begged, looking down into the golden eyes of his mate.
Rhyan’s eyes were supposed to be the dark color of deep earth. They had been that way in his former life as well as in this one. The color of his eyes could only mean that the wolf was nearly here.
“Rhyan! Stop!”
But he wouldn’t. Rhyan continued to thrash and cry out beneath him.
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A spike of fear lodged itself in Blasius’s chest. He’d failed. He had waited too long to claim his mate, and now the transformation was on him. Rhyan would become a wild werewolf, and James DeWitt and the rest of his pack were going to hunt him down and kill him.
“Rhyan!”
Rhyan’s arms slipped free from Blasius’s hold on him, and he flipped the both of them around until Blasius was the one with his back on the cold concrete floor and Rhyan was on top of him.
Blasius expected another attack. He thought for certain that Rhyan would thrust those claws of his deep into Blasius’s neck, killing him and sending him back to that awful spirit world.
Rhyan’s teeth came down, and Blasius braced himself for the coming bite.
Those sharp teeth came down on his neck, they bit him, but Rhyan did not bite into him. The bites were loving nips, and his lips suckled on the places where his teeth had touched. Rhyan groaned, his hips moving against Blasius’s cock, and Blasius released a small, relieved moan as he was pleasured.
He gripped Rhyan’s hips as his mate humped against him, searching for friction for his own aching prick.
Rhyan had not been about to make the shift. He’d been excited for the mating, and his body was now taking control.
“Oh, that’s it,” Blasius moaned, lifting his knees and pushing his hips back against Rhyan’s thrusting cock. He turned Rhyan’s head, forcing the other man to look at him as they rutted against each other.
His eyes were still golden, but they contained traces of human thought. He knew what he was doing. He wanted it.
“What did you do to me?” Rhyan asked, his voice a barely audible
gasp.
“Nothing. Ye are doing it.”
Blasius brought Rhyan’s mouth down onto his, kissing the other
man, thrusting his tongue inside Rhyan’s hot cavern and unconcerned
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about the teeth. Rhyan wanted to mate with him. He would not harm
Blasius.
The soft bite his tongue received told him otherwise, and he pulled back with a groan, just to have his own mouth invaded by Rhyan’s slick, searching tongue.
Rhyan had not been an omega in their previous life together. It seemed that now he was not one either. Blasius should have predicted this.
Rhyan groaned and moaned with wanton abandon, his hips thrusting quickly against Blasius’s, and Blasius entirely forgot their surroundings as he threw his head back with a moan. The smack of his skull against the concrete floor was a painful one, but the pulsing pleasure against his prick more than took his mind away from any pain he felt.
He would not be the one to perform the claiming this night. Good. He’d hoped for that much.
“Rhyan,” Blasius said, managing to separate their mouths for only a second before Rhyan took command of his lips once more.
Blasius put his hands in Rhyan’s hair, less than eager to separate them again now that his mate was finally, willingly, kissing him after
so many years apart.
Blasius could die like this and be a perfectly happy werewolf. He wrapped his arms around Rhyan’s back, clutching the other man tightly to him, not releasing him even when he heard the small grunt of pain that Rhyan released.
How could he release him? His mate was in his arms once more,
and they were fucking as passionately as they had done over a thousand years ago. Blasius had never felt so much happiness before. He would never allow anyone to harm this man again.
Blasius gripped Rhyan’s dark hair in his fingers and forced his head back so that they were separated once more. It forced Rhyan to open his eyes and look at Blasius, at least.
“Let me get to my knees, and then fuck me,” Blasius commanded.
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Rhyan’s only response was a low growl, but he lifted himself off of Blasius, allowing him to get onto his knees as he’d said.
Blasius did so quickly, thrusting his bum out for Rhyan to take. He couldn’t recall if they had ever mated like this before. In all of the memories Blasius had retained from their previous life, it had always been Blasius to take the role of the seducer, but now that he was in
this position, the bones of his knees in pain from the hard flooring, he knew that they must have come together like this before. It felt too natural for them to not have done this.
Rhyan gripped his hips and then spat into one of his hands.
Blasius looked over his shoulder in time to watch the other man
stroking himself, his face contorted in pleasure as he spread his saliva
over his cock.
Blasius appreciated that Rhyan was able to think of even that much, but Blasius had also taken precautions of his own. He’d made
sure to grease himself with a substance he’d found upstairs before coming down here. He was more than ready for this.
This those golden eyes of his then opened, and Rhyan growled again, a possessive sound, and he plunged into Blasius’s hole.
Blasius’s entire body became tight as a bowstring at the intrusion. “Ah! Motherfuckin’ Christ!” he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut. His fingers became claws as he dug his nails into the concrete, chipping it away and creating holes.
It seemed Rhyan was a little too far gone to bother with proper preparation, despite what Blasius had thought. It hurt more than he expected as well. Thank God he’d prepared himself.
Rhyan hardly seemed to notice Blasius’s discomfort as he plundered Blasius’s hole with quick, sharp thrusts.
Then, no, he did take notice. Though Blasius was still scratching long holes into the floor, his eyes tearing with the effort to hold back his pain, he felt the gentle kisses and nips against his neck as Rhyan’s thrusting became more and more gentle.
He was warmed by the act. He had hardly expected such things
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from Rhyan in his current state, and to him at least, it was proof enough that his lover was there. Somewhere within him, Rhyan’s instincts were telling him that this was proper. This was exactly as it should be, the two of them together like this.
Blasius’s body gradually opened up for him, and soon the pain dulled into a manageable burn.
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Chapter Three
Blasius moaned as his lover plundered him. The delightful push and pull of that cock inside of him, filling him up, even with the harsh pain of it, was everything he’d been missing ever since Rhyan had been killed over a thousand years ago.
No, he would not think on that. They were together now, and Rhyan was claiming him, fucking him, marking Blasius as his forever.
Eventually, the softly moving hips pumped faster and harder, and now Blasius was able to better take it. His moans became pleasured instead of pained. He straightened his arms and dug his claws into the concrete beneath him to keep from being fucked across the floor.
He squeezed his eyes shut, threw his head back, and moaned loud as Rhyan nudged that spot deep within him with his cock, and then did it again and again.