Sweet Darkness

{c}Prologue

Eyes, beautiful eyes totally entrance me. They fill my vision and create a new possibility, an opening that I had not seen before.

I follow the young man with the shining blonde hair and those wonderful eyes.

“Come with me,” He says (needlessly) with a sweet smirk on his face. “I can show you what desire really is.”

I can’t help myself, I follow. I am captivated, utterly taken in. Much more attractive than the crowded lounge, he beckons. He consumes me.

{c}__________

We don’t look at each other while in his car. The only sound is the thrumming of the engine, lulling me.

His hand on my knee is a constant reminder of what is to come. What I want to transpire this night.

We approach his door, and I look at him, suddenly unsure. He steps closer, capturing my hand with his. “Why you?”

I am a bit startled by the abrupt question, and am about to ask him what he means, when he cuts me off with a hard kiss, one that isn’t very passionate at all. Simply possessive and somewhat cruel.

He breaks away, breathing heavily, the shadows on his face accentuating his perfection. “I don’t want to want you.”

Shocked, I go to pull away. His hands are all over me then, caressing my chest, my stomach, my ass. Cupping my growing erection, hardening in spite of my apprehension. Shoving me against the wall beside the door to his apartment, he growls and bares his teeth in a parody of a smile.

Liquid heat pours through me as he continues to manipulate my body, and my lust wins.

{c}__________

The door is a mere nothing, we pass through as though the obstacle doesn’t exist. He is kissing me, possessing my mouth with his tongue, ripping open my shirt and falling on top of me on the sofa.

The breathe is sucked out of me, knocked out of me, taken from me as he rakes his fingernails down my sides. He grinds his pelvis to mine, marring the pain with the slight pleasure flushing across his cheeks.

He trails his tongue over my arm, up to my wrist. He bites the back of it, hard, and grins at my whimper. I push at him, and he merely reaches to the core of my most base motivation and strokes it. The sensations mingle beautifully...My head spins as I find myself bereft of all clothing, panting as he caresses me inside and out with his strong hands. Release...me...

Cool air, not his hands fondle me as he rises.

“I’ll do more than that, my sweet beautiful one,” An alluring laugh, the sound of his clothes dropping on the floor. “I can show you much more than that.”

Unity, and it burns through the welcome I offer.

{c}__________

“This is nothing, really.” A dark grin. “This is merely a fraction of what I can do. Of what I choose to do.”

I gaze up through a film of unshed tears. This couldn’t be happening; I have more control than this. Please, no more, I can’t take anymore. It is too much!

“I know what you are thinking.” He steps closer to me. “I know how you feel. Because I was weak once. I was needy. I know.” He lays a comforting hand on my shoulder. “And once you can learn to be like me, this won’t hurt nearly as much.”

I try not to scream as he digs his nails into my shoulder, punching through the skin and creating crimson rivulets down my arm and torso. I try.

{c}__________

If you are as strong as you say, you would not need to convince me.

“Ah, you are awake. Have a pleasant dream?” His smile is so beautiful, deceivingly so. It shines on me and makes the sting of his teeth on my neck that much more unbearable. His slight moan is an aphrodisiac in pure form, injected straight into my vein.

I feel my pulse match his. Racing. Take me...

{c}__________

What is real now? I can’t remember. I don’t know if I ever had a home, a job, a life outside of this room. It seems as though that would be the fantasy.

I can’t remember....

How long have I been here?

{c}__________

I don’t think that I would want to know what it is like to be without him.

{c}__________

I can feel myself dying. Every day a part of me dies. I mourn, and then the pain becomes my focus once more. How much have I lost now? What did I ever have? Could I ever bear the ultimate pain of losing him? He has become all that I live for.

“You want me again, don’t you.” I shake my head at the whisper, and am horrified at my body’s immediate response to the sound of his voice. Oh, for the memory of control. He laughs, and though I did not hear him move any closer, he is there, above me. His presence is not one to be ignored, even when one is not fastened to the floor like a piece of equipment.

Don’t...It feels too...good... Shuddering. Oh...

{c}__________

I can smell the car exhaust wafting through the window from the street below, and I revel in it, it is different than the smells I had gotten used to. He has opened the window, and I can feel the night stretch itself upon my bare skin.

Lovely. I open my eyes. The nothingness is burned away by the sweet stream of the moonlight.

I need you...where are you...

The shadows stir. “I have not left you.” He pours forth from the darkness, holding a small key. I shudder in both anticipation and dread.

I can’t leave, this is all I have ever known, just leave the window open, just so I can smell the outside...

{c}__________

“Come with me.” He smiles at me, bringing me into his arms for an enticing kiss. I melt against him, he is my world.

He leads me into another room. My world is showing me his universe, where he exists.

For the first time, I am wearing clothes. He has dressed me in a dark green turtleneck sweater, and black pants. I am tall, taller than he is. My hair is longer as well, it goes to my shoulders where his merely curls a bit over his ears.

I am staring at myself. I am so...beautiful. My mouth is full and red, and I gaze at it before I turn to him. Never as beautiful as you, though...Look at you.

“Ah, you bewitched me from the moment I saw you.” He trails his fingers down my cheek to my mouth, where he slips his thumb inside. I suck on it, watching him through heavy lidded eyes.

He laughs.

{c}__________

The moon is much less impressive when the stars accompany its presence. The night is cold. He is walking ahead of me, his golden hair luminous against the dark grey of his jacket. He speeds up, suddenly very intent. What have you found?

Soon we are moving at a run, low to the ground, close to the shadows. I see the quick flash of his teeth, bared in a manic grin.

I can smell it. What is that...I want it... Soon I am nearly beside him, caught up in the heat, the taste against the back of my throat. I haven’t run in so long that the feel of the adrenaline, the pure strength running through me and being pushed out through my legs is almost intolerable. I drop to all fours and surge forward, dark hair flying back, my nails digging gouges in the pavement.

{c}__________

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He doesn’t look at me. I am seated at the round table in the kitchen, while he is standing by the window staring out into the rapidly dissipating night. “You should have waited.”

I’m sorry, I didn’t know... I stare at the gleaming wooden surface.

“That is no excuse. You were to follow tonight. That is all. Follow.” He sighs, and my heart wrenches in my chest. “I think perhaps I was over eager.” I stop breathing, and shift my eyes up, gazing through my lashes at him. He regards me, his light eyes sober and tired. I can see how exhausted he really is. It frightens me.

I’ll go back, I never meant to disgust you. I rise and head back to my room. I arrange myself on the floor, after closing the curtains. Strange, for some reason I thought that the curtains would be rough. They are smooth, like satin.

I wait for him to come in with his little key, ready to turn it the other way to secure me to the bonds again. I wait.

{c}__________

I wake up. What..?

I stretch, a little surprised at the lack of bindings at my wrists and ankles.

I wait for a little bit, maybe I only dozed off for a moment. I finally make my way into the other room. He is still there, though settled in the window seat. He is asleep, his breath fogging the glass. I have never seen him this vulnerable, curled up like a little cat.

I seat myself on the floor and gaze up at him. I don’t know how long I sat there before his eyes slowly opened, taking me in. He doesn’t move, save for the tongue flicking out to wet his lips. The sun set grazes him with gold and violet.

We stare at each other forever. “I wouldn’t have just looked, you know.”

I smile. “I know.” I reach out and touch his hand with mine. “I didn’t want to just look, either.” I like knowing that he wants me, that he craves my touch even a little. He props himself up on his elbow, the blue of his eyes darkening slightly, his fingers twining through mine.

“You have to be the loveliest man I have ever had the pleasure of taking.” His voice grows husky. “And I want you now.” His lips are against the back of my hand, kissing it as he sits up all the way, drawing me closer.

He leans down, seizing my mouth with his, draining me of any resistance I may have harbored. I can feel him cupping the back of my head with one hand, the other sliding up and down my back. I arch to his touch, vocalizing my need with a small whimper.

Now.


{c}__________

“We will try again.” His fingers are tracing down my nose, playing over my lips and running over my chin. “I know that you need to learn.” A tempting kiss, one that is over far too soon.

Try...again.”Yes.”

{c}__________

“See that?” I look in the direction he is pointing, straining my eyes somewhat.

“I see.” The darkness gets easier to look through, even more so when I let my eyes expand to take in the few shards of light.

He smiles, managing to look down at me even though I top him by a few inches. “Good.” He grabs a lock of hair and drags me down to him, kissing me until my lips are swollen and my breathing is labored. His eyes shine faintly, and he motions with his other hand. “Go, I shall watch.”

The drop off the roof is long, so when my hands and feet connect with the pavement below it is a bit of a shock. I can feel the slight prickling underneath my skin, fueling rather than hindering the rush of adrenaline through my veins. I sniff the air experimentally, tasting the scents of the sleeping city in the back of my throat. The prickling becomes almost unendurable as I catch the fragrance of prey. Focus.

I pad swiftly through the alleyway, making my way to the street, and finding it inhabited by a small group, raise to my hind feet and emerge from the darkness. Trying to subdue the tingling, the scratching, the burning is almost impossible when I can all but taste my goal. I cross the street, ignoring the drunken shouts, delving into the darkness on the other side. I let out a silent breath of relief, dropping back onto all fours again. The severe prickling starts again, worse, and I am unable to stop it this time. The agony hastens through my body, dismayed that it was prevented before, eager to make up for lost time. I don’t scream, My Master’s lessons have taught me well in that respect. I do let out a small sound though, and lean against the cold stone, shamefully anxious for some sort of relief.

“Hey, are you ok?” The slight voice startles me, I didn’t hear anyone approach. I snap my head up to the intruder, knowing I’ve changed, knowing what I will have to do. I see no one. My eyes widen a fraction, utilizing more light. Nothing. My heart shakes. “Need any help?” I remain motionless for a moment, breath catching, then bolt towards the chain link fence at the end of the alley. “What do you need?” I can hear my claws clicking nervously on the pavement as they try to emerge fully.

Forgetting all but the voice and the sense of intrusion, I run for my life. What have I awoken? I feel tendrils of thought coursing over my body. They are deceptively soothing.

“I can help.” I cannot run as swiftly as I may have, had I not been in the midst of my change. The mental probes trying to trip my feet, trying to steer me wrong. “Let me help.”

I growl and feel my left back foot snag, sending me in a heap to the ground. The suffocation begins in earnest then, swathing me, feeding the panic coursing into my mind. The ground caves around me, the pressure is so great. My left shoulder and hip connect with the pavement solidly, forcing an audible crack into the air.

“You don’t want my help?” The voice begins again, admonishing me this time. “Look what has been done to you.” An invisible finger tilts my chin up for better inspection. “Born with it, were you?” A murmuring starts all around me, filling my elongated ears and nearly deafening me with the intensity. My teeth are bared, tears snaking in erratic rivulets down my face, wetting my shoulder and the pavement.

“Let him go. He’s mine.” I cannot move, yet I try, I try to see him. Master...

“No. We found him. He is ours. We will help him.” The tendrils tighten around me possessively, shoving into my mouth and through my nose.

“He doesn’t need help, wraith. Give him back.” I can feel his voice through the air, shivering through the invisible bonds that hold me. I can barely breathe, every intake of air is a torture, bringing them deeper within me.

Give me back, let me go... I attempt a small push.

“Of course he needs help. Everyone needs help.” The red welts deepen in my skin. ”Let me fucking help, half-breed.”

I’m gone.

{c}__________

“Are you feeling well enough to eat something?”

He brought me back. He always takes care of me.

The first thing I see again is him, and I am not a bit astonished at how happy this makes me. He has become everything. I want this.

“Yes, thank you.”


{c}__________

{c}Chapter 1

{c}__________

My name is Harold Percival Adams. My Master calls me Adam, if not “darling”, or some other sentiment. I have been selected through instinctual and emotional processes to be an apprentice. It sounds as though it clashes somewhat, doesn’t it; the fact is, the main way my Master thinks is instinctually. He is the epitome of a thinking animal. He is savagery in fine clear skin, the ultimate predator. I do not know the name his mother gave him. I have not yet earned that right.

I have long dark hair that he adores; he spends many long moments merely stroking my hair until I am almost purring in his arms. I am tall, and he loves that too. He loves looking up at me and examining the lines of my jaw, the pronounced collarbone, the small earlobes. He loves pulling me down, to him. I love being pulled down. I have fine, almost translucent skin that never fails to amuse him. He can trace the small veins with his tip of his nail for hours.

I can’t recall exactly how long I have been with him now; it’s been long enough that I have learned to change with ease. I’ve learned to defend myself adequately, so that he lets me go out on my own some nights. The hardest lesson to learn was restraint. He taught that to me with the patience I so sorely lacked. My Master is everything I long to be.

Right now, he is giving me another lesson in patience and endurance. My legs are bent so that my heels touch my bum, and rope is twined down the length of my thighs, effectively locking them in position and together. My ankles are connected to my wrists, which are secured behind my back. My hair is in a tail, and even that is tied to my wrists. My head is held “proudly”, as he says, and the only part of me touching the floor are my knees. The rest of me is held up by the hook above me. If I move to try and rest my weight differently, it pulls at my groin, where he looped the rope in a very interesting way around my length and through my legs.

I’m numb by now, and almost all thoughts are on how I cannot stop yet, I can do another minute, another hour. I can see him through the door, if I look out of the corner of my eye. He is working on a puzzle that a friend sent him from Spain. It came in a small wooden box, and the pieces (which are wooden themselves) are absolutely tiny. His hair, freshly washed, shines from the lights in the kitchen. He is humming.

I am floating. I can’t feel anything, not even the hair tickling my hands. His wordless song invades my ears, and inside, I dance.

He rises from the table and stretches, his tummy showing a bit between the blue pajama pants and shirt he is wearing. He gazes at the puzzle again for a moment, he is just standing beside the table, before he makes his way back into the dark bedroom.

I forgot to say before: I graduated to his bedroom. His room. The room he had me in before we use now for only occasional play.

His face appears above mine, and he smiles down at me. “You are cold.”

I say nothing; I simply have no words to describe how I am feeling. I know that his hands are running everywhere on my body. He releases me slowly, letting the blood flow back into my limbs. I’m too weak to stand, even though I feel I should be able to. I feel revitalized, but more like a newborn baby than anything else. He gathers me up and lays me on the bed beside him, where he sits and stares down at me.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel okay.” I smile.

His hands massage my legs lightly, helping my body’s blood circulate. “It didn’t hurt you?”

“No.” His fingers interlace with mine, and he finally lays down.

“We don’t need to go out tonight. Tomorrow is the full moon, and a clear belly will help with a clear mind.”

I nod. “What are we doing this time?”

I know he is smiling at that. “You will find out when the time comes, won’t you?” His arms circle me and cut the conversation short.

I’m running! I need this, I need to run, I need to bite, to rend, to eat, to howl! I scream my torment at the laughing moon, and shudder when my answer is a cold wave of humanity, a wave that birthed my mother but not my father....shunning me effectively from both races, but not from the combination that found me! The beautiful survivor of two races gone mad with hate for each other...

“Mother! Don’t hate me! Don’t fear me, its unnecessary!”

“Harry! What have you done? Why are you like this?”

“Do you remember my father?”

“I do not!”

“Remember! I remember the moment of my conception; I remember how you screamed when you discovered he was not like you! That his seed carried more than any human male could offer.”

“I cannot! He was terrible, I did not love him, he was an abomination!”

“Do not stop your ears! Listen!”

Thunder, yet it failed!

“Sweetheart...Adam!” A gentle hand grasped my shoulder. I turned to his shoulder, and gasped into his skin. “What was it? What did you dream?”

I shook my head, unable to grasp the fleeting images. I rubbed at my eyes, thinking hard. “I can’t remember...I think about my mother, maybe.”

His look of concern scared me a bit. I watched him rise from the bed, stretching his arms before him as he headed for the washroom. His glance back at me confirmed his worry.

I lay for a moment, listening to him relieve himself before I slid off the bed myself. My stomach growled, and I walked lightly to the kitchen, already thinking about the lemons in the fridge. He hates lemons. He only buys them for me.

I peel one, settling myself down at the kitchen table. He doesn’t join me, instead I hear the balcony door slide open, and the small sound of pressure being put on the railing. So, he has decided to go out.

The lemon is sweet on my tongue, quickly washing away the aftertaste of an unremembered nightmare.

”I did not love him!”

I run to the toilet, violently emptying my stomach.

”He was an abomination!”

The heaving finally stops, the fear gripping me almost nostalgic.

”What have you done?”

I grip the sides of my head, trying to hold back the images that threaten to flood over me. I try to get up, but my knees buckle and send me back to the floor, cracking my bad shoulder against the bathtub. “It’s okay, I’ll be okay, nothing is going to happen.”

”Halfbreed...”

I can feel the panic start to course through me, shot through every cell in my bloodstream. There is no escape from this, there is no way I can survive this. I am an abomination. I deserve to die.

”Let me fucking help...Why are you like this?”

“No, no....I deserve to be happy...Leave me to myself...I won’t die...” I murmur words of consolation to myself, while my mind busily tries to destroy everything that has been built. My mind? Sometimes it feels that way. Most of the time it feels like strangers invading my most intimate space.

I don’t feel my head hit the floor, but when my Master wakes me I can feel the throbbing on my forehead. I groan as he lifts me into his arms. He sounds angry. “Why does this only happen when I leave you alone? Why did I have to leave tonight?”

“S’okay...” I am dismayed to find that I can’t speak above a whisper.

He kisses my forehead, settling me down on the couch. The sun is higher in the sky than I expected, and I have to squint in the brightness of the room. He covers me with a small blanket before striding into the kitchen. “Tea, Dear?”

“Yes, please.”

“Honey or sugar?” He always asks, though he knows how I prefer my tea.

“No, thank you.”

“Cream?” I can hear his smile, though his tone is still brisk.

“No, thank you. But I will have a squeeze of lemon, please.”

The night feels so far off, now that I am in the light, and he is in the kitchen, bustling around. He is so good to me. I smile to myself, a small self-indulgent smile that makes me want to bury under the cover on top of me. Of course, it’s a bit too small to be doing that. My legs are cold, I need them covered for now.

“What are you smiling so sweetly about?” His teasing manner infects me with a laugh.

“I’m thinking of you.” I turn my gaze up to him. I love watching him.

“Are you now?” He grins, and sinks to his haunches beside me. Setting the tea cup in my hands, he watches me drink. I put the cup on the table beside me, and he is suddenly scooping me into his arms, onto his lap. I lay my head against his chest, and breathe in his scent.

“Yes.” No more than a whisper. I can feel the strength under his skin, how he is restraining himself.

I bury my face into his neck.

I blink awake, skin prickling almost unbearably. He is shifting underneath me, still asleep, and I can see the change taking him as surely as it takes me. A moan escapes his lips as I stagger off of the couch, staring at the floor. The moon is full tonight.

My back burns, and suddenly I am on all fours, my gaze fixed to the patio windows. I feel my fingernails lengthening, my fingers thickening. A low growl sounds from behind me.

“I thought to prepare more than this...so. You are almost done, then?”

I nod, and tear my eyes away from the moon to look at him. He is all grey fur and brilliant yellow teeth, his build stockier than mine. He has a small white patch of fur right under his chin. I grin, and he grins back.

“Are you ready?”

“What do you have planned for tonight?” I settle beside him.

“Follow me.”

We don’t drop to the ground right away; instead, we are loping along the rooftops like hunted criminals. It thrills me. Anyone could look up and see us, illuminated in the moonlight. He looks back at me and his eyes flash his amusement. He knows how I feel.

He seems to always know.

Finally we are in the shadows again, my relief belying my previous excitement at being so exposed. His fur tends to reflect the light in a most intriguing way; mine more often than not absorbs it. Only sometimes will the red gleam in the dark. He says it looks like blood.

I say he is an emboldened shadow.

We keep running until we reach the city limits. I turn back briefly, slightly confused but willing to go through with whatever he has planned.

“Do not stop yet! We shall rest over the rise.”

I head towards his voice, my paws finally connecting with unspoiled terrain. It’s cold and so full of life. He disappears over a slope, and I follow at a somewhat slower pace. My breath puffs out in translucent clouds, dissipating quickly. I reach the top and spot him right away. He waits for me, and I run to him.

He sniffs my nose for a brief second, swiping it with his tongue. “We have a long while to go yet. Do you need a drink?” At my nod, he turns away and lopes to the line of trees in the distance. I can smell the water when we are about halfway there, and my tongue lolls out of my mouth.

There is a small dugout just inside the trees, on the other side of a wooden fence. He leaps over it easily, and I do the same. Cows bleat in alarm, bolting away from us. I like that. He lets me drink first, and the water is sweet. I smell the farmer long before I see him. My Master finishes drinking, and looks up.

“Do you want him?” He glances over at my whisper.

“Only if you are hungry.” His eyes reflect the light for a brief moment.

“I’m not.” I lick the water off my lips and rise to all fours.

We bolt through the trees, the report of a shotgun echoing behind us.

We run far enough that the trees thin again, and the lights from another city beckon us. We stop for a meal, the speed of our flight making it impossible to ignore nourishment. The moon is still up, yet further down in the sky. Midnight has come and gone. I felt it in my blood when it was at it’s peak: a shivering power that pumped my limbs full of strength. I estimate we have traveled at least 300 kilometers in 4 hours. At least.

We are not finished yet. When the moon wanes, so do we. Our power to change diminishes a bit, and we cannot run nearly as swiftly. Wherever we are going, we should make it tonight, with the potency of moonlight aiding us.

I feel so alive.

“So do I, sweetheart.” His grin gleams from up ahead.

{c}__________

{c}Chapter 2

{c}__________

“There are some things you should know.” He is busy folding towels at our new apartment, in our new town. He arranged for the movers before the full moon, so as to make it a complete surprise for me. He chose a place with an enormous balcony and a kitchen window that overlooks several small row houses. It was nice to have a safe place to sleep after our run.

Our wonderful, exhilarating run...

I glance over from arranging the books in the bookshelf. “Like what?”

He laughs. “Have I given you a life so fulfilling that you are only mildly curious?” He sets the last of the towels down on the sofa, and saunters towards me. I blush a bit at the way he exudes sexual energy. “I don’t think that’s the case at all, Adam. I want to tell you about us, the way we are. The way that we will be, until the day we die.”

My eyes widen, and I stutter. Of all times to have no words to find, this was one of the worst. I have so many questions that beg for answers.

He caresses the back of my head with his hands, bringing me to him. His mouth effectively silences the jumble of words trying to escape, and exchanges them for a soft sigh. “Now, what question do you want answered the most?” He kisses the line of my jaw, working his way down.

My mind whirls, quickly entering that space where I can’t think of anything but him. He laughs at my stuttering attempt at coherency, and shifts so that I am sitting on his lap, facing him.

“I have something for you.” He smiles slyly.

“What is it?” I feel like a puppy when he has surprises for me.

He reaches over to the jacket laying across the arm of the couch, and digs in the pocket for a moment. Pulling out an envelope, he grins at me. “I had some friends of mine look up something for you. Something I know that you have wanted to know for quite some time now.” Suddenly his grin is sheepish. “Don’t be mad at me?”

I laugh. “How could I ever be mad at you?”

He presents me with the long envelope, and circles his arms around me as he waits for me to open it.

The paper smells new.


Harold Percival Adams
DOB: January 14, 1975
Place of Birth: Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada
Mother: Mary-Anne Adams
Full other
Status recognized: deceased
Fa-


I glance up at him, my mouth gone dry. He meets my gaze, and motions for me to continue.


Father: Robert McVale
Full breed, dark, Stark Pack
Status unconfirmed


I meet his eyes again, and before I know it, I’m laughing hysterically. “He sounds so normal! Just like everyone else, doesn’t he?”

“Just like we do, don’t we?”

My laughter stops at his words, though a small chuckle seeps out every so often. I stare at the fine piece of paper for what seems like hours, though it was really probably only ten minutes. I shake my head in wonderment. “Who found this for you?”

“A friend.”

“Hm. Some friend. Better resources than I ever had.”

“Of course. She knew where to look.”


H. Adams is a mix of full other (human) and full lycanthrope (dark). His blood suggests a favoring of his lycanthrope side, explaining his almost fully developed abilities. Further training will assist in his growth.


“This is amazing.”

“I know.” A smirk, gentle enough, is sent my way. I smile back, pleased that he cares this much about me.

“Thank you.”


Of further note:

H. Adams shows a strong count (blood) for watching. Development for this skill may be found at the research institute in Dublin, Ireland.



I stare up at him wordlessly. How on earth would we get to Dublin? Would we even attempt it? Do I want to?

He smiles gently at me, sensing my inner turmoil. No past suddenly culminating into a past rich with different, wildly gyrating flavors served to shock me, and deeply. I settle my face into my hands, too overcome to do more than that. I can feel his hand on my shoulder, silently comforting me.

“We can’t go there yet, darling. Too expensive.”

I nodded. “I know.” My voice is muffled.

He moves away from me, and a nose presses against my arm. I turn my eyes upward and find myself gazing into a pair of luminous lupine eyes. “Now?” Breathless.

I can feel the grin.

The sweet agony begins as I desire my change, giving my body over to the will that is always present behind it. I see him dance out into the corridor - he must have opened the door in anticipation. Thinking animals, indeed. I lope after.