I am a victim of your carnivorous lunar activities.
Gerald Bringsley, An American Werewolf in London


Full moon was said to have magical qualities. Mythical.

Some people can't sleep when the moon is at its fullest. Others believe it's the best time to get a new hairstyle. Yet another group, if smaller in number, believed it to give especial power to their rituals. Eventually, there were those that turned on a full moon.

Zoe didn't belong to either group, but this month's full moon changed her life, anyhow.

4th March, it was a Friday – finally. It was high noon at the coffee shop, it seemed that people were so immune to caffeine that they could order double espressos at eight o'clock at night and still be capable of sleeping.

'Well, it's not like they are likely to head off to sleep,' Zoe thought piquedly, 'Getting wasted in some shady bars is more like it. Naturally, they would need coffee to stay away long enough to down their ten shots of whiskey.'

Twenty-eight days to go, then she'd be a married woman and would have better things to do than waste her time preparing over-priced coffee beverages on Friday nights; she would have a husband to cuddle up to on the couch. Go out for dinner.

Speaking of the devil, Zoe's phone chimed to announce a message received.

Zoe, darling,

won't be able to call tonight, working late.

See you tomorrow for lunch.

I love you.

Marc

Zoe sighed and pressed 'reply' when her colleague Barnes barked: "Zoe, little help here!"

"Of course, sorry," She slipped her phone back into her pocket and would reply later. She typed her name into the register and smiled at the customer: "What can I-" Zoe had to interrupt herself. Something about this man shook her. Must be his gorgeous hazel eyes… or his muscle-packed body. Virgin or not, Zoe was still just a woman, it was basically instinct to notice a hot man when he was in front of her. "-get you?" She finished weakly.

"Coffee black, please," His voice triggered something in her, and it wasn't a chastity vow.

"Coming right up," Zoe was glad for the excuse to turn her back on him, though she couldn't help but feel his eyes on her back, following her every movement with predatory accuracy and sharpness. Hungry eyes.

"Anything…else?" Zoe might be a shy person, but never had her voice quivered. Until now, anyways, now that she thought she must be choking from the dominating masculinity this guy sent out in waves that bordered on Tsunami extents.

"You could write your number on the cup."

"I suppose I could," Zoe replied as if in trance. "But why would you want that if you can just talk to me in person?"

"I'll take you up on that offer with pleasure." Zoe thought she must imagine him putting an emphasis on the last word. "When's your shift over?"

"Um, err, in… now." Zoe stuttered, "Just gotta, you know…" She fumbled awkwardly with her hands, motioning to the back. "Be right there."

Cheeks flushed with whatever it was - excitement, embarrassment, shame – Zoe stumbled into the backroom of the coffee shop and slipped off the ridiculous green apron. What was she doing here? Running towards some tall dark handsome stranger, that's what!

'I must be losing my mind,' Zoe's breath came ragged and irregular, but she couldn't stop herself from fixing her hair and marching back out.

Mr Stranger sat at the table by the window, leisurely watching people pass by outside, holding umbrellas over them to shield them from the stormy rain battering down on them. Zoe knew she should just leave, but, cheesy as she knew it sounded, there was this invisible force pulling her towards him. Slowly, almost hesitatingly, she entered his field of vision and sat down across from him. Those hauntingly intense eyes fell on her, and Zoe wound herself as if he could see right down to her soul; as if he could see right through her shielding clothes.

Zoe jumped a little at that irrational thought. "So, you want to talk to me. Why? You don't even know me."

"Exactly. I'd like to change that."

"Okay, so you're apparently not lacking confidence," Zoe stated quietly. "Not that you have any reason to do otherwise…" She shook her head. "Well, you've got me at a disadvantage. I don't know who you are."

Sam wondered whether to tell her the FBI story and decided against it. "Sam."

"No last name?"

Sam chuckled and leaned forward on the table, revelling in the tensing of Zoe's muscles at the proximity. Her innocence was so palpable he could almost taste it; it wasn't staged, it was legit and intriguing. "Winchester, if that helps you any."

"Not really, seeing as it still doesn't tell me what you want from me." Zoe swallowed the lump in her throat. It wasn't hard to figure out this man wasn't volunteering at the church or did otherwise entertain any upstanding occupations. Underneath his pleasant smile there was something so roguish about him, Zoe thought she must suffocate from it. However, she kept breathing in that poisonous fume as if it were a drug she was hooked on.

"You could let me take you home."

Zoe huffed. "Look, I may be from the countryside, and I may be considered naïve, but I'm not stupid. And I'm not easy." She raised her left hand. "Besides, I'm engaged."

Sam smiled wolfishly, no pun intended, and pleasantly said: "I know, Zoe. But I don't see your fiancée around to take you home in the pouring rain."

"How do you know my name?" Zoe's eyes narrowed.

"It's on your name tag," Sam pointed to said tag Zoe still wore on her polka-dotted blouse.

Blushing madly, Zoe rather tore than took it off. "Whatever. So maybe my fiancée isn't here, but who says I don't have a car on my own?"

"Well, do you?"

Rarely anything ever annoyed Zoe; this man's dominance and utter confidence in himself did. "No," Zoe unwillingly admitted.

Sam sighed and in that deceivingly gentle voice said: "Zoe, I'd never hurt you. And I'm not angling for a one-night stand here, either."

Zoe flinched from the mere mention of it, and made Sam think that persuading her might be harder than he initially believed. He just hoped his werewolf instincts wouldn't take over before he had wooed her as far as it being at least consensual when he'd savage her like the beast he was.

"Then why?" Zoe's voice revealed an uncomfortable amount of the fear she felt but didn't want to show.

"You've got something about you, Zo."

Nobody had the right to call her by that affectionate nickname but her friends and fiancée; but Zoe found she revelled in the sound of it from Sam's lips. That indeterminable attraction – well, not quite so indeterminable. Sam must be the most handsome man she'd ever seen – was also the reason why she didn't question his mysterious remark.

"Okay," She breathed.

Sam wondered if Zoe's lips tasted as good as her scent smelled. It was all he could do not to lunge across the table and find out on the spot. He rose and held out his hand to her, which she found herself taking.

Luckily for her, the coffee shop was too crowded as that anyone saw her leaving with the handsome stranger to his car.

"You're nervous," Sam stated as he opened the door for her. Her white neck was so close… radiating that damned honey trap of a scent.

"Wouldn't you be if you were me?" She simply asked. "If you didn't have that certain vibe of trustworthiness about you, Sam, I would have long since taken off running into the opposite direction."

'And I still should,' Zoe thought to herself.

"That so."

"Yes. Or I wouldn't have said so."

"People lie all the time," He should know, he was an expert.

"I don't." Zoe said with a conviction so enticingly innocent, Sam tightened his grip on the steering wheel to keep his hands off of her. The further the evening progressed, the more he felt he was turning from himself into his wolf self. He knew he should get as far away from Zoe as possible, but his instincts wouldn't allow him that – they screamed at him to just mark this girl as his.

Impregnate her.

Sam very nearly slammed the breaks at that beastly thought that had found its way into his consciousness. A glance up at the evening sky losing colour told him the full moon was on the rise. It wasn't long before it would reach its peak… he had to be away from Zoe by then.

"So, whereto?" Sam asked casually when his heart rate had receded to a human speed again.

Zoe gave her home address before she could stop herself to think that giving this stranger her college address might have been the smarter way to go. But no, she led him right to her own little apartment that she kept for retreat purposes; it was her safe haven of independence that she would only sell once she was married.

Married. Marc. She'd completely forgotten about answering his message. She'd do it right away…once she was alone again. "So, Sam, is this what you usually do, pick up damsels in distress and chauffeur them home?"

"Not usually, no. As I said; you've got a special something about you."

"Right. That something is generally called a promise ring." Zoe huffed.

"You think I'm mocking you."

"You wouldn't be the first."

Sam took a deep breath, tasting that insecurity and vulnerability and letting it dissolve on his tongue like a four-star menu. It was what Zoe was to him, technically. Only that he didn't want to kill her, but turn her…into his mate. "Well, I'm not. Mocking you. In fact I think it's admirable you stick to your principles."

Zoe arched her eyebrow sceptically, but Sam's face remained perfectly straight and solemn. "It's self-protection, really."

"How so?" Whoever gave that man beside her the wild, hungry look of a vagabond and the voice of a trustworthy priest should be condemned for deception.

"God knows why I'm telling you this, but…" Zoe wished she could shut up but found it impossible. "It's easier to hide behind your faith than admit you're scared."

Sam didn't reply, just let those cursed hazel eyes wander over her and made her feel as if she were stripped down to her very soul in front of him. Though entertaining no false hopes that he wasn't as dangerous as he radiated to be, Zoe sucked in his presence like one who'd wandered the Sahara for days would drown water.

"All I have to say when people ask me why I'm such a prude is that I'm waiting for marriage, that my faith doesn't allow lechery and such, you know? I don't have to stand there and say I'm freaking terrified of…" Zoe's prude lips stumbled over the words: "Being… intimate with someone."

Sam's humanity made an honourable effort at keeping the images of Zoe's naked body pinned underneath his as he rammed into her out, but was only half-way successful. "Nothing wrong with that," Sam forced himself to say, knowing it was what he would say on any day that wasn't a full moon. The only reason he got it across his lips tonight was because he knew it was what would make Zoe feel safe and comfortable.

Zoe's prided knowledge of people and their true intentions failed miserably this night. She leaned back, relaxed, and figured she had nothing to fear. She'd always been taught to never make judgements and to always believe in the best of people. Sam might be more than an intimidating, but in the end, it seemed, he was by far the kindest man she'd met in a long time.

"So your fiancée… how long have you known him?"

Usually happy about any opportunity to talk about Marc, Zoe now clasped her hands together in her lap and fumbled for the right words. She knew she was betraying Marc in a way, letting this handsome stranger take her home… It was wrong. "I've known him for two years, but we only started dating one year ago."

Damn, that man has patience. It shot through Sam's mind. He wouldn't resist that walking temptation next to him longer than one night. This night.

"When's the wedding?"

"Next month. I would have preferred a summer wedding, but…"

"He didn't want to wait that long," Sam finished rather un-empathetically. Not like he blamed the guy.

Too bad he'd be the one to pluck Zoe's virtue, not Marc.

"No," Zoe admitted weakly.

"I'm sure you're worth the wait."

Zoe flinched and pressed herself deeper into the car seat.

"I meant that character-wise, Zo." Sam soothed, his rising werewolf consciousness rubbing its hands demonically at the prospect of spoiling this innocent piece of meat.

"Oh, right." The girl beside him relaxed again. "So, Sam, err, thanks for driving me home…Would you… um, like to come upstairs for a beer maybe?"

'Zoe Heart, what the fuck are you doing?' It wasn't often that Zoe cussed, she could actually count off the occasions on one hand, but she released a tirade at herself in her mind worthy of a sailor. "It's just that, I, well, really… it's nice talking to you. If you don't have any other stuff to do, I mean-"

If Sam followed her up, the girl's fate would be sealed, that much, the moral part of his brain knew for sure. Too bad it was outweighed by the werewolf bursting out in him, kicking down morality's and decency's door with un-withheld force. Slowly a dangerous smile stretched over his face and Sam pulled the key out of the ignition. "I would love to, Zo."

The girl smiled sweetly, never knowing what monster she'd invited in to tear her life to shreds. "Great."


"You don't drink, I take it?" Sam nudged towards the glass of cranberry juice Zoe was pouring herself after she'd handed Sam a beer.

"No. I know, perfectly fits the stereotype of church girl."

"You don't need to defend yourself, Zoe."

"It's what I've been doing most of my life… when little girls go to church regularly, it's cute, but when they turn sixteen, they're pegged off as prudes."

"At least you won't have to be carried out of bars into the ER. Your liver has a longer life expectancy and you don't have to worry about what you'll do while you're out of control."

Zoe smiled shyly. "Not many people see it that way."

I don't, either, but I'll say anything to reel you in. Sam smiled harmlessly at her and casually asked: "So how come you keep beer in the house?"

"My fiancée, he drinks one now again," Zoe shrugged uncomfortably.

Sam took a sip of the beer and revelled in the knowledge it wasn't the only thing of Marc's he'd get to taste tonight.

Zoe brushed her caramel curls behind her shoulders and looked at Sam with those damn innocent blue-green eyes that just screamed at him to turn them dark with lust and taint the pure soul lying behind them.

She brought up her legs underneath her on the couch, shutting her body off from him. His inner werewolf gave a displeased growl at that. "So, Sam, what are you doing besides barging into people's lives and have them spill out their innermost secrets to you?"

"Not much, really. It's a very time-consuming job."

"You ever thought of taking up an honest occupation?"

"Not really, no."

Zoe chuckled and believed Sam's evading to be the circumscription of unemployment, so she decided to leave it at that. It's been a long time she last talked to someone whose eyes didn't hold that quiet – sometimes even outspoken – mocking reproach about her strong faith. Too bad Zoe didn't see the ravenous hunger that burned in Sam's eyes instead. Every fibre in his body itched to make Zoe his bitch, literally.

Technically, he still had two hours until midnight, when the full moon was its strongest, to get out of here; but the blunt truth was that he neither wanted nor could leave. Too strong was his desire for this woman.

To breed with her.

Their conversation was civil and pleasant until around eleven thirty.

Zoe wasn't aware of the time, or else she might have gotten suspicious why Sam, whom she thought to be respectable enough to honour her engagement and virtue, hadn't left yet. It being as it was, however, she still hadn't replied to Marc and had, to be honest, forgotten about it completely. "You want another one?"

"If Marc doesn't wonder where all his beers went." Sam handed Zoe the empty beer bottle with a teasing, almost mocking raise of an eyebrow. He'd turned so far by now that he could faintly hear the blood rushing to her cheeks, feel the heat of her body and perceive her increased heartbeat. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

Zoe didn't respond, just turned her back on Sam, walked – tauntingly pranced was more like it to Sam – into the kitchen and soon returned with another beer bottle. Her fingertips brushed Sam's when she handed it to him, and it was the moment he snapped.

Zoe didn't even have time to let out a surprised cry when Sam pulled her down into his lap and crushed his lips on hers. Frozen in shock, she couldn't do anything but permit him to let his hands run all over her body and feel the suffocating strength of him.

"Sam…! Don't…" Zoe tore herself away and struggled in his arms, but they held her in an ironclad grip. He felt the fear spark in her, saw her eyes widen in horror, but he couldn't care. Just pressed her mouth down on his again – and then felt her lips tentatively melt against his. Grinning victoriously, he broke away to trace her collarbone with his tongue down to her voluptuous breasts. At this point it was not only pointless to claim he was to some degree human, but also would it be a lie. He was an animal. And the only thing on his mind was satisfying his insatiable hunger.

Reproduce. Dominate and impregnate his female. Mark her as his.

Zoe pushed Sam away, her heart almost giving out from the shock at having someone touch her that intimately. She tried getting up, but it all too soon became obvious Sam wasn't too keen on the idea of her leaving. "Not so fast, Zo."

"Sam, please…" She tried, though not with as much effort as she should have maybe put into it.

"Please what?" Zoe flinched from the feral hiss in Sam's voice, but she wasn't as scared as she thought she would be – that still left a considerable amount of terrifying fear, though.

"Don't hurt me," Zoe whispered weakly. "Just let me go."

"Can't do that, Zo." His hand slipped into her blouse demandingly. Zoe stifled a cry at the sound of fabric tearing and the sensation of cool air on her bare skin. "You're all mine."

Zoe covered – or tried to – her bareness that left her so vulnerable with her arms. "I'm no one's," She forced herself to protest, though she might as well have spared that effort, seeing as the effect was all the same.

"You might as well enjoy it, Zo." Sam unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor impatiently. He growled contently at the sight of Zoe's luscious white breasts, round and perfect.

Perfect for nursing his cubs.

Sam tugged Zoe's impeding hands away and closed his lips around her nipple, making her utter a lovely mix of a moan and cry of indignation and fear. He teased her sensitive spot with his tongue, feeling it grow rock-hard and hearing her heart beat pick up pace.

Zoe meanwhile found herself incapable of movement or even verbal protest. She had paid enough attention in Biology class to know what the definite bulge in Sam's pants that pressed against her thigh meant, and it released a paralyzing flood of fear and intrigue in her. Lust.

Not knowing what was riding her, her fingertips travelled tremblingly over Sam's crotch. Seconds later she wished she hadn't. It happened too fast for her to realize, but next thing she knew, her back was on the coffee table and Sam hovered over her tugging her jeans down her legs with unbound ferocity.

Zoe was acutely aware of her practically-nakedness and shivered from discomfort and fear. "Sam…"

"Don't fight it."

Zoe found herself nodding. Her hands travelled to Sam's face and traced the well-defined edges of his jaw, and Zoe should be glad that only the moonlight illuminated the room, for the animalistic slits Sam's eyes had become would have made her cry in fear.

Still shaky, she unbuttoned Sam's shirt, but only got to the third button before he tore it off of him. He didn't know why she would bother with his upper body when all that mattered was further down on his anatomy. Fine, if it helped her overcome her girlish inhibitions, he'd comply with her, to some degree.

Sam violated her lips with his again, roughly grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him. Zoe whimpered from the brutish force, but found herself clasping her arms behind Sam's neck and kissing him back anyhow. She perceived all too clearly how Sam unbuckled his belt and impatiently pushed his jeans and boxers down, leaving him completely naked.

Cursing herself for her lecherous curiosity, Zoe stroked Sam's impressive, muscular chest and moved her hand down to his hard erection. "My God!" It slipped out of her before she could stop herself.

Sub-consciously she arched her hips backwards, trying to wiggle away despite knowing it was utterly useless. "Sam, please, don't. You're going to rip me apart!"

He chuckled raucously against her neck. "I could, but I won't. You've got nothing to fear, Zo."

"Other than you tearing me apart, you mean?" Zoe cried, "You… You're too large, Sam. It won't fit, it'll…"

A feral snarl, and Zoe's panties came off, leaving her naked and presented in all her natural beauty. Sam wished she'd stop fussing, but then again, found her ridiculous protests entertaining. Thrill of the chase.

Zoe was torn somewhere between shame and devouring passion for this presumptuous stranger who took liberties with her she wouldn't have granted Marc even on their wedding night.

"If you'd just relax, this won't hurt."

Naturally, that only made Zoe tense even further. She dug her nails into Sam's back, pressed her legs together and squirmed underneath him. Werewolf set on mating that he was, Sam wasn't all too amused and crudely grabbed her arms to pin them down, wedging his knee between her legs to wrench them apart.

"Wait, Sam, just…" Zoe whimpered helplessly, "Bed, please?"

Rolling his wolfish eyes, Sam swept Zoe up into his arms unceremoniously and carried her into the adjoining bedroom, where he had to control himself in so far as not to toss her onto the bed but put her down with some degree of gentleness.

Zoe's breathing came ragged, her muscles hurt from the fraught wire tension they were under and she shivered although burning up inside.

The change of location had temporarily caused Zoe's fortress to crumble, and Sam used the given opportunity to claw his fingers into the soft insides of Zoe's thigh and push her legs apart ferociously. His patience had utterly and completely reached its end.

He needed to pound into her right now or he'd end up killing her.

Zoe jumped a little when she felt Sam's hand on her clit, but wasn't as humiliated by his intimate touch as she should be. On the contrary, she felt unknown lust spark in her and loosening her up. "Oh, God."

"Not so much, babe." Feeling she was all wet and ready for him, Sam pinned her arms down beside her, knowing she'd buck when he'd break her virgin wall.

Zoe's body acted on its own accord when she arched her back, pushing her hips towards Sam, and brushed his cock with her pulsing wet pussy. "Do it," She begged. "Fuck me."

Sam growled in content at finally having his female ready. "It might hurt," He warned for humanity's sake.

Zoe shook her head, mistaking his words for sympathy and worry and not taking them for the empty phrase they really were. "It's okay. Hurt me."

And he did. Sam rammed into her mercilessly with one impetuous thrust, not stopping at the resistance of her hymen and not caring at the cry of pain Zoe gave when he shredded it. Tears formed in her eyes at the sharp, numbing pain that seemed to paralyze her whole body and only got worse with every brute shove that followed.

Zoe forced herself to relax, but that was easier said than done with a 6'4 beast banging her senseless. Until Sam hit a spot inside of her that made her cry out from sudden overwhelming pleasure.

Sensing the change in her, Sam let go of her arms. She used her new liberty to hold onto Sam's broad shoulders in the futile attempt of finding leverage against the impetuosity of his attacks.

Sam instead of pinning her down manhandled her hips, holding them firmly as he drove himself into her tight pussy.

"Nnng, Sam," Zoe moaned, hating herself for the pleasure she felt and hating him for doing this to her. "Oh, God," It struck her as blasphemy to cry out the name of the Lord in a moment of such awful lecherousness and sin, but she couldn't care.

Sam tasted the innocent inexperience on her lips as he kissed her devouringly, but he found it intoxicating. Moreover, he knew now why it had to be Zoe; she was in heat.

Just waiting to conceive his werewolf seed.

"Oh, fuck, Sam, I'm…" Zoe tried to suppress that sinful pleasure welling up inside of her like a heat wave, but with every increasingly fervent thrust of Sam's cock into her, it grew stronger. Before she knew it, Zoe rode through her first man-made orgasm – or rather beast-made. It left her a weak bundle of nerves, exhausted and beat, in the arms and at the mercy of her beastly mate.

Zoe's wall clenching around him pushed Sam over the edge. He came inside of her, draining his seed into her.

Perks of naïve virgins. They don't ask for protection.

Sam gave Zoe a relatively tame kiss for appearance's sake and then rolled off of her to let her catch her breath. She'd need it soon enough, for he wasn't done for tonight. Full moon might be on the decline, but it was still shining strong, and he felt the werewolf rioting in him, demanding the satisfaction of its needs.

Zoe shivered and in a brief clear moment wondered if she could ever live with what she'd done tonight. What she had let happen. She wasn't given much time to ponder about it, as Sam was already on top of her again. "Just let me rest for a little while…"

"We can rest when we're dead."