Title: Marred Beauty

Rating: Mature

Summary: The wolves are at the top of the food chain with Yuki at the top. Whatever he wants, he gets; and, at the moment, he wants the exotic winged creature named Shuichi.

A/N: I want to write a wing!kink story, so here it is! While I love Shuichi as he is illustrated in the manga, I have no choice but to change his personality a bit due to the circumstances that I'm putting him in, so major OOC warning! This is probably gonna be Porn with VERY LITTLE plot. And ears, don't forget ears. Reason why I write Yuki as a wolf is so that I can have him establish territory and be ubber possessive.

Disclaimer: I don't own (nor wish to) Gravitation.

Prologue.

Pain.

There was excruciating pain everywhere, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. His body groaned and ached against all types of movement, be it subtle or forced. Despite the torturous protest of his body, emerald eyes blinked open furiously. They scanned the area quickly, desperately trying to assess the situation. The last thing he remembered was being ambushed from behind while he was sneaking up on a rabbit. The hunter became the hunted, he thought with wry humor.

Fuck irony.

Another series of pain coursed through his body, every fiber of his being screamed at the suffering discomfort. He opened his mouth to voice the pain, nothing came out. Instead, a croak resulted from his dry throat. Deciding that all sort of movement hurt too much, he closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. At least until the pain becomes more tolerable, he told himself.

An eternity seemed to come and go before he opened his eyes once more. This time, there were virtually no pain. There was no ache, no cramp or pang or stab. When the state of pain-free was assured, he exhaled sharply, letting go of a breathe he didn't realize he was holding. This time, his eyes slowly scanned the surrounding, carefully intaking everything. The darkness that he didn't notice the first time shrouded nearly everything. His eyes diluted to adjust to the darkness before he could make out the bars a few feet away from where he was crouching. They were uniformly spaced, as bars for a prison cell should be. Fear threaded through his consciousness as he tried to make out the background beyond the bars. When he realize that nothing could be seen from where he was, he pushed himself to his feet. His attempt was thwarted, however, by constraint of his wings.

Curious and nervous mixed, he turned to inspect whatever were placed on his wings. Panic shock through him as he found the simple act of turning his head obstructed. his hands, which weren't restrained-thanked the heaven above, flied up to touch his neck. Whatever bare skin he was expecting didn't meet his fingers; instead, rough and cold metal grazed the tips of the fingers.

Collared like a common dog, he sneered to himself as he attempted to pull the metal collar off, not surprised when he found his endeavor futile.

All it did was scratch at the sensitive skin of his neck. Giving up, his hands moved from his neck to the floor. In his crouching position and using his hands to ground his stance, he shook his shoulder blades, wings fluttered violently against the restraint, trying to break free. Despite the flesh-tearing pulls of the metal rings where his shoulder blades met the base of the wings, he continued pulling, only stopping when the entire cage rumbled to life.

Surprised by the sudden liveliness of the cold cell, he paused and looked around with a great sense of alarm. What was going on?

The shift in altitude also brought a change in temperature, he could tell as the cage moved upward. In contrast to the cold and damp feeling he was slowly accustomed to down below, the air was getting warmer and livelier as he moved up along with the cage. Hatch doors opened from above and the cage moved through seamlessly. Blinding light forced his eyes to close. For a few, long seconds, he was rendered blind. Despite his sightlessness, he could feel the other occupants in the room. The sexual repression was so stagnant and thick that it nearly forced him into a feral position to shield away from the world. He could feel the vulgar leers directing at him as though he was a piece of meat to be sold.

In a sense, he was.

"We always save the best for last. Here, we have a exotic, as well as rare, pure-breed swan." His eyes snapped open by the announcer. A swan? he thought, they think that he's a fucking swan?

Instead of focusing his attention to the announcer, he took the time to survey the room instead. Dim lit lights illuminated countless sitting figures of all body types, leisurely sipping their expensive Dom Perignon while scandalously clad females swooned by their side. From his position on the brightly lit stage, with several spotlights directed at his person, it was hard for him to make out any face. That didn't stop him from glaring every which direction, hoping to wipe the arrogant sneers off the bastards' faces. His nose sniffed the air gingerly.

Wolves, he growled. Filthy creatures.

There were probably other breeds present, but the scent of the wolves easily overwhelmed the room, with them dominating the food chain. Their bodies exuded arrogance, power, and-at the moment-undeniable lust.

"Ten thousand! Do I hear eleven?" The forced cheery voice brought him back to the audition. Eyes quickly scanned the audience, jumping sharply between shadowy figures to follow the raised numbered signs-an indication for the bidders to participate in the nauseating act of slavery.

He could virtually hear the leers from the wolves. Irate by the indecent act, he wiggled from his restraints once again. This time, with more vigor. A few in the front jolted with shock and trembled with hints of fear while the ones in the far back radiated with amusement at his vain attempt. Fueled by their reactions, both negative and positive, he shook harder. The cage quivered under his administration, metal hinges clattered loudly against each other. The room quieted, watching with pure awe and unadulterated fear at the powerful play before them. He grinned ferociously at them, showing off his sharpened fangs.

Fucking swan eh?

Ignoring the stabbing pain and the wet liquid (which he suspected to be his own blood) dripping down his shoulder blade, he yanked hard a final time. The chains snapped with a piercing shrill and his wings shook free. Riding off the waves of triumphant that overcame his senses, he flapped his wings a few time, vibrating the air with several strong breezes. His shoulder blades quivered from the pain it received from the simple action. He bit his lips to keep from voicing the hurt. Instead, with one final flap of his wings, he expanded them to their full length, reaching high for the ceiling in show of his power and dominance.

Bid on this, bitches! He laughed at his own pun. It came out as a feral bark, scaring a few spectators even further.

He could hear the frightened murmurs amongst the crowd, revealed in the terror emanating from every creature in the room. All but one. He looked up into the darkest corner of the room, staring straight into the hazel orbs. The fierce, absolute power behind those eyes forced his own into submission. Fearing for his new found courage, he looked away and back at glaring at the weakened creatures before him.

"One million."

To Be Continue