A/N: Thank you so everyone who took the time to leave a few words of encouragement or praise. I am so glad you liked the first chapter. I was so nervous about posting as this story has been hidden away on my laptop for so long. Hope you like this next chapter just as much!
Please be aware of some adult themes/conversations in this chapter. I will not show full sexual scenes on as I have been warned by admins not to or I will have my account deleted. If you want to read the story complete with full sexual scenes, please follow one of the links on my profile :)
.: Chapter Two :.
Moon Heat
The thick mist coating the world around him failed to diminish at all that day, or the next. This fog seemed to swell to fill Harry's own head as he walked along the barely visible path through the woods behind Greyback – he wasn't even entirely sure how he came to be doing this. Why was he trailing quietly behind the wolf instead of fleeing? Because he can outrun you if you take off outright, his mind supplied with a scheming tone. Bide your time, wait and then run. Yes, that was the winning tactic. Yet there was something floating through his muggy mind, waiting there like a predator in the shadows.
It's the werewolf in me, his mind whispered warningly, the recessive gene or subdued nature, whatever it was that Greyback awoke in you. It wants Greyback, it sees him as a good choice.
It wants me to follow him. At that very thought he stopped still on the uneven path and just ahead of him in the mist, Greyback stopped too, turning to face him.
"You think too much boy, that's your problem," the wolf grumbled, taking a few steps towards him. Harry raised his chin in defiance. He knew that a submissive should lower his head, show his throat in submission and respect. But he wouldn't. He may have werewolf in him from…somewhere, but he wasn't a werewolf. He wasn't going to be one of Greyback's bitches.
"If you're still sulking because I have you 'prisoner' then let me enlighten you, even if you did manage to give me the slip the Dark Lord would snatch you back up in a second. He's watching you."
Harry sneered, shifting uncomfortably in the loose trousers and shirt Greyback had bestowed on him. The werewolf had even given him shoes 'to save his dainty feet' he had said. The recollection didn't help him to adjust his tone any. He glared at the wolf hard. "He can't be, I'd have felt him–"
"I'm subduing his presence in your mind. I can do that now I have a connection to it. Our bond overwhelms all others," Greyback punctuated the point by reaching forward and dragging the backs of his knuckles across the angry-looking mark still a vibrant and purple-pink on Harry's neck. Harry shuddered and shot backwards out of his reach.
Greyback smirked. "He's ensuring I'm not going to release you to your little friends, no doubt, but he can only get a general sense of your state of mind. He can't see you or hear your thoughts when you're within range of me. Nobody has the right to see you but me."
He spoke with vehemence and possessiveness of the like Harry had never seen before. Harry was coming to realise it was the werewolf in him. He understood it but it didn't mean he was going to give into his own 'inner wolf' that was almost purring in his ear. It longed to prostrate itself at Greyback's feet and entice him closer with a swing of its hips. Harry almost gagged at the image, wondering why the voice had been growing more impatient, more desperate since he had awoke in Greyback's company two days ago. It was louder than ever today. His skin felt hot and tingly, almost buzzing with need for…something, though he knew not what.
"You still haven't told me where we're going," Harry snapped, averting his gaze then in awkwardness. He and Greyback were able to sort of feel each other's vibes, which meant that the werewolf must have been able to feel the ethereal, maddening heat beginning to overwhelm him. He thought he could feel a peculiar heat radiating from Greyback's skin now they stood closer, almost vibrating through the air between them, but it was hard to tell what was him and what was coming from outside his own body. He winced.
Every limb felt shaky, red-hot and sticky, clammy with a light sheen of sweat. It felt like a hot summer's day in the middle of spring. Merlin, help me, he gasped, his mouth dry and his head growing fuzzier. "What's happening to me?" His voice was almost lost to the intense heat wave that was sweeping over him. He started to sway backwards, at least he thought he did but two strong hands steadied him, gripping his shoulders firmly.
"It's started already," he heard the werewolf mutter and he squinted hard to bring the man into focus. "I didn't think your instincts would have matured enough in a few days to worry about this. I'd hoped we'd reach the den before you had to face this."
It occurred to Harry to question this. His brow furrowed and his lips parted in question but he couldn't make coherent words leave his lips. All he managed was a hazy, dry echo of the word, "den?" The two hands that had stopped him from falling tugged him forwards. He grunted as they pulled him against a hard chest – a chest that was far too hard and hot, with a smattering of hair that tickled his skin. It made the tingling in his flesh intensify and he cried out, shoving himself hard away from the steadying embrace.
"No!" he shouted, stumbling backwards but managing to stay upright. His body was positively shaking now, even worse since feeling the foreboding rightness of the werewolf's body against him. "I… What're you doing to me?!" he demanded, his voice raspy. "My body is… Stop it, whatever you're doing!"
"It's not me, boy," Greyback answered gruffly, approaching him again. Harry flew back, almost stumbling over an upturned tree-root, just managing to keep his feet. Greyback was still coming at him. Harry's heart was hammering somewhere in the region of his throat now and his fingers were clawing frantically at the air, as if trying to snag an invisible lifeline.
"You've studied werewolves at that silly school of yours, you know what this is," Greyback practically breathed, stopping a few feet from him, sending waves of gradually intensifying heat across Harry's body. Harry was panting hard now, the trousers and loose shirt Greyback had thrown at him the other day felt scratchy and suffocating, far too tight on his body despite the way the garments practically hung off him.
"You're feeling the pull of the moon, the beginning of moon heat," that voice explained, seeming very distant, like an echo inside Harry's head rather than words spoken before him. "A werewolf's time of fertility. Your body is telling you it's ready to–"
"No!" Harry cried, shaking his head as if that would clear the muggy fog threatening to drown him from the inside. "I'm not – I'll never-! I'll die before I fuck you!" he snarled. Greyback was right; he did know (at least roughly) what moon heat was. Werewolves didn't have mating seasons they had the full moon. But then, him and those like him with the recessive gene in their blood were the only ones that could carry that young to term. And that was why Greyback wanted him. Greyback, who was now advancing on him again as he began to sway.
He wants to fuck me! Harry thought. He wants me to…to give him…! And oh Merlin, the wolf blood in him was boiling with yearning for just that, because of the moon heat.
"Never!" he cried again, shoving hard at Greyback and staggering back. "Stay away from me! Stay back!" He turned on his heel then, flying blindly through the trees, desperate to put space between himself and the wolf that was probably just waiting for the moon heat to turn him into a pool of white-hot desperation. He knew why werewolves were so mindless under the full moon – they were hunting for food and a mate, driven mad by the need to sew their seeds in the short time given.
The visions, the urges, the increase in saliva in his mouth at that thought did not even abate as he realised, feet still carrying him as fast as they could go, that to get pregnant during the full moon meant one thing. Greyback would mount him as a werewolf.
Suddenly Greyback slammed hard into him, throwing them both to the floor with Harry on the bottom, struggling for freedom with every scant breath left in him. With a final snarl, however, Greyback pinned Harry's hands above his head with one of his own fists and his legs to the ground with his own bodyweight. He hovered above him. Those icy eyes stared down hard into Harry's.
"You have no idea where we are, boy, so let me tell you this place is regularly teeming with wolves come the full moon," Greyback growled, shaking him roughly to stop him from struggling long enough to listen. "Not all of them will heed my mark on you and now you're awoken as a carrier you're not only easy prey but ripe for the taking as well. Do you understand me? They'll either tear you apart in frenzy to have you first or rape you one at a time until you go mad!"
For a moment, Harry just stared up at him, eyes wide but still fuzzy with that pearly white fog swirling around them. It took a great deal of concentration but eventually he found his words. "S-Surely…surely you'll do exactly the same once you transform?" he breathed. He knew that elder wolves like Greyback had control when they transformed in general, but the light of the moon took control of all werewolves, the experienced and the new. No werewolf had control of himself under the moon, they were ruled by their instincts not their 'human' feelings.
Greyback leant down then, inhaling him curiously. "You're afraid." It was a statement not a question.
Harry glowered, albeit dazedly. "I'm set to be gang-raped or ripped to shreds by you or a bunch of stray wolves – of course I bloody well am!"
"Good," Greyback answered simply, "it means you're not as stupid as I thought you were and you just might bloody listen to me." He pressed harder on Harry's wrists to further drive home the seriousness of the situation. "I didn't think the werewolf in you would have awoken enough to be affected by the moon this time but it's more potent in you than I'd expected. That's what you're feeling now – your body preparing for moon heat, desperate to fulfil your basic purpose as far as nature is concerned."
Harry stared up at him silently. Horrified. His body was hot, sensitive and driven mad with lust because he wanted to be mated with – fertilised like some wanton bitch. He winced and turned his head away, staring fixedly at the mist lapping at the edges of the nearest trees. Humiliation was ripe in his throat and clung to his every pore. He knew Greyback could smell it and expected leering, derisive jeers, even the pressure of his hips to lower onto Harry's already feverish body. What he didn't expect was the pressure on his wrists to let up a fraction. Still, he wouldn't turn his head to look on the wolf again. He kept his gaze averted.
"Stop that mawkishness," Greyback barked sharply. "It's nature. My body is suffering the same in the need to mate but I'm older and I've dealt with it for longer, I can control it better. You'll learn to handle it more with every moon."
Harry winced again and this time clamped his eyes shut, biting back the prickling hot tears behind his eyes, unwilling to let them fall. So this would be his life from now on? A slave to his body's instincts at every moon, instincts that forced him to spread his legs and take it up the arse from any werewolf that managed to pin him down. He could feel it in his loins now, burning hotter than anything he had ever felt. If Greyback pressed down on him now and took him, his body would welcome him with a song of bliss.
Even if my mind is screaming in negation, he thought.
He bit hard into his lower lip, desperate to feel and taste the blood so at least he would know his body was still his to control, for now at least. He could feel Greyback's potent scent in his nostrils, urging him to tilt his head back and offer his throat. Harry's instincts were urging him to do one thing while his own conscious (that he knew better and had lived with for all his life) was telling him to listen to his pride. That was the only way he could explain it.
"The voices in you are about even at the moment, but the moonlight will make your instincts stronger," Greyback murmured, his voice still rough and coarse but somehow gentler than before. It sounded almost consoling – as if he cared about the humiliation and self-loathing rolling off Harry in waves. "It won't take away who you are or what you want, only make your instincts' desires more potent. Mate, eat, sleep. When we have cubs you'll be overprotective of them–"
"When? You assume I'll let you fuck me? That I'll give you…cubs?" Harry snapped, without opening his eyes or looking at him. His teeth dug into his lip even harder until at last he tasted hot coppery blood. "I told you, I'd never allow anything of yours to grow inside me. I'm a man, a wizard not a woman and not a fucking werewolf slapper!"
Instead of arguing back, Greyback growled in barely contained frustration and one of his hands completely released Harry's wrists in favour of caressing his now wounded lip with a coarse thumb. Harry winced but the thumb wiped away the blood, turning his face up to look at him.
After a moment, Harry's pride swelled and forced him to open his eyes. That icy gaze was locked on his face. His lip stung under that thumb but nothing was as painful as the way his instincts roared inside him with longing for the creature above him. To his instincts Greyback was the most powerful, the biggest, most experienced and most in control of his nature – which most other werewolves were slaves to. The alpha, the ideal mate.
Harry's skin flushed darkly as that unbearable vibrating heat rippled through his every pore like a constant tide and he closed his eyes tightly again in stubbornness. "I don't want any of this," he whispered, only just realising he had said it aloud when Greyback caressed his lip almost consolingly.
"You're a virgin–"
"Oh, you'd like to think that wouldn't you?!" Harry snarled, despite knowing it was useless. Greyback could sense the truth in that fact even without the ability his mark on Harry's throat gave him, the knowledge of when he was lying.
"–and a breeder, so you get to choose when I take you, when we perform the finalisation ritual to our mating," Greyback continued bluntly. "Back at my pack you will be treated as precious, as royalty. I won't touch you until you welcome me to your body, it's how it has always been done. My pack upholds tradition–"
"But others, rogue wolves might not, I know, you said," Harry snapped bitterly, turning his head to the side again before he opened his eyes. He could tell that Greyback was telling the truth but that didn't eradicate the one important fact. "Don't dress it up in fancy clothing. You say you rescued me but in fact you've only trapped me in another prison. You say I'll have the choice, that I'm precious but you bit me without asking and you're holding me here now against my will like a prisoner. Just stop trying to make this seem like a good life because it never will be. To me it's a prison as vile as Voldemort's with different shackles – that's all!"
Greyback stared at him for a moment, and then, "you're saying you'd rather go back to Voldemort than be mine?"
"Yes," Harry glared, "I'd rather have him cut off every extremity I have a thousand times over than be emasculated by being your bitch." The thumb on his lip suddenly gripped his chin firmly, tilting his face up to Greyback's again. For a moment, Harry thought the wolf might punch him, he knew alpha werewolves were very insistent about respect from their pack mates and so it was a big surprise when the wolf merely stood up, releasing him completely.
"You have a big mouth and plenty of fire but you need to learn when to surrender a little for your own gain," Greyback said with dangerous calm, standing beside him, watching him with obviously strained patience. "Anyone else would have had their throat ripped out just now. I am the most powerful alpha on this continent. I don't coddle and console insolent whelps – yet I have done it for you, for your benefit and you dare continue to insult me? It's an honour to be chosen by me!"
"Then bestow it on someone who appreciates it better!" Harry bellowed, staggering to his feet, his hand flying out to steady him on the nearest tree-trunk. He still felt giddy, his mind still fogged up and his skin still feverish, but he could think a bit clearer now for some reason. "You'll be waiting for an eternity for me to choose you so it'll always be rape. I'll never want you. I'll never respect you and I'll always keep trying to escape. This is a prison to me, not a life!"
Left panting slightly from his rant, Harry glanced warily around at the surrounding forest. It was silent but for the distant call of birds that Harry could not see but could feel with his renewed senses. After his breathing calmed, however, Greyback grunted and gestured ahead in the direction they had been going originally. "That minor contact should have sated your instincts for an hour or so at least, we should get moving to find some shelter for you before the moon rises. You'll be incoherent again soon and from that little speech I doubt you're ready for the only thing that will stop the burning need – which will grow evermore insatiable the closer we get to the full moon, you realise."
Having had no doubt whatsoever as to what that only solution might be, Harry held his tongue and glanced this way and that into the blinding fog before following a few paces behind the werewolf as he set off again. He had a feeling, a gut instinct that Greyback might be forced to leave him during the moon and if he was right, it would be the perfect time to flee.
They walked for some time after that in the muggy fog, the dampness of the cold air combining with the unnatural heat in Harry's body to form an uncomfortable sticky sheen of sweat over his skin. Harry grumbled moodily, wiping his face and neck with the overlarge t-shirt he was wearing, desperate to tear it and the trousers off his body to escape the heat.
He had no idea how much time had actually passed but thankfully the incoherency of earlier hadn't returned just yet as Greyback had threatened. He felt itchy, hot, tired and moody and there was an ache deep in his belly he tried not to think about. But he was at least in control still.
It did worry him, however that the fog had not diminished and they seemed to be heading further and further into the forest. He did not want to be in the centre of this labyrinth of trees come the full moon tomorrow, or he'd never escape Greyback – or any of the other wolves that Greyback said was out here.
"How far are we away from your pack?" Harry asked, breaking the silence that had reigned since they had set off again. His throat was a little dry; maybe they'd been walking for longer than he'd thought? He tipped his head up to the heavens and saw an orangey-pink light peeping through the close-knit canopy of the treetops. "You said something about a den? Is it in the middle of this forest?"
Greyback slowed a little to allow Harry to fall into stride beside him and cast him a cursory look before returning his gaze to the direction he was walking. "All packs' dens are different, ours isn't in this forest. It's beyond the village just outside of here, in the mountainside on the edge of another woodland."
Harry ignored the use of the word 'ours' and repeated "cave?" hesitantly.
Greyback snorted. "Yes, a cave, from what I hear of your past that should be luxury to you. Rumour has it you slept in a cupboard under the stairs?"
"Where did you pick up that rumour? From the most recent child you snatched?" he retorted stiffly, despite having heard Greyback say that was mostly a rumour he had simply allowed to circulate – almost. He didn't want to think about what the full truth was.
"It's another two or three days walk from here on your feet," Greyback continued, ignoring Harry's words. "I hadn't anticipated you reacting to the moon, it's set us both on edge, slowed us down. I'm hoping we can reach the village by tomorrow night so I can leave you there for the night safely."
Harry just nodded. He would use his instincts as an excuse for compliance and play along until then. As soon as Greyback was out of earshot he'd find a way to escape and then hopefully find a way back to Hermione and Ron. It did occur to him that with Greyback away from him Voldemort might be able to watch him unhindered, to stop his escape even, that was why Harry had to move quickly and think even quicker.
"I s'pose I need to be protected from you as well as everyone else on the full moon," Harry murmured absently. "I'm not sure how you reckon me living in your cave with your pack is going to work every full moon." Not that I'll let you get me that far, Harry's mind supplied.
At that, Greyback stopped and looked him in the eyes for the first time since they'd set off again. "I won't kill you, not even as a wolf under the full moon. The wolf and I are one. I recognise my pack mates and companions, I'll recognise you as my mate, so will the rest of the pack once we're with them.
"Your full moons will be much safer once we're with the pack. It's out here in the open with rogue wolves and other packs running around that you're in danger," Greyback explained as if it were public knowledge. But even Harry had never learned this in Defence Against the Dark Arts. It must have shown in his face, for Greyback's expression twisted into a bitter smirk.
"Should've guessed your teachers wouldn't tell you any of this, eh? Sounds much more impressive if they say we're savages who'd tear apart our own mates and young? Even wolves have sense, that's all we are during the full moon, wolves, not savage otherworldly beings."
Harry didn't say anything, merely stared at him. He knew enough about what Remus had suffered to be ashamed of his own kind for what they had done to penalise werewolves. There was nothing he could say in their defence even if he had wanted to.
"My wolf will know you, as I said, thanks to my mark and my scent on you, but it will react…differently, on instinct rather than with my conscious thought," Greyback continued and his voice grew more grave. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you but do not challenge me. You must submit, always. A loss of your pride tomorrow night will preserve your life for the day after. You're unusually rebellious for a sub, it might be dangerous for you to challenge me and for me to punish you before your body has had chance to fully mature with your newly awoken werewolf blood. You're still vulnerable–"
"So you won't hurt me as long as I bow and scrape to you?" Harry demanded hotly. "So if I so much as look you in the eye I might be ripped to shreds?"
Greyback grimaced. "Don't over exaggerate. I'm just saying my wolf won't realise that your body won't be able to take as much punishment as a normal unruly werewolf sub. If in doubt just lay down and turn your head to the side and expose your throat."
Harry sneered. "And if I'll be so bloody safe with you as long as I play along like a good little bitch, why are you intending to ditch me on the full moon night?" he demanded, not entirely sure why he was arguing with it when that was exactly what he wanted. It must have been the instincts. Sulking because it wants nothing more than to snuggle up to him and take it, Harry thought with loathing.
With a snort, Greyback continued walking and Harry followed. "You're a greenhorn in the werewolf ways still. You might get too close while I'm writhing in the pain of the transformation and get hurt accidentally."
Even if Greyback had said that, had thought of his safety purely for his own gain, the initial fact that the thought was there was still…
I've got to get out of here, Harry thought frantically, shoving aside such foolish thoughts. It wouldn't matter if Greyback was in stark raving love with him, he was still a murderer, the bastard responsible for all Remus' suffering and on top of that, he wanted to turn him into some little bitch for breeding. He would never stop running from that, no matter what.
So lost in these thoughts was he that when Greyback held an arm out to halt him, he walked straight into it with an 'oof!'
"What the–?!"
"Hold it a second," Greyback whispered harshly, sniffing the air in each direction a few times and inclining his head to listen. Harry tried sniffing subtly but he realised the slight increase in his senses didn't reach as far as Greyback's.
"Shit," the wolf cursed, his face twisting in a grimace. "Looks like there's a new pack in these woods. Some rogues got together I reckon. I don't think it'd be a good idea if we run into them with you so close to moon heat and unmated. These savages consider a mark of intent a mere technicality…"
Harry stared at him. The novelty of Greyback calling someone a savage was a bit rich, he thought. "Some of those wolves that you said aren't quite as 'traditional' as you?" he asked, trying to seen unbothered about it all.
"You sound worried," Greyback replied, which Harry took as a yes.
"Anyone would be worried about being pounced on by a load of randy werewolves. I don't want to get raped and impregnated, much less made to enjoy it all by these rancid instincts." Harry retorted bitterly. He jumped when Greyback whirled around at his words, suddenly looking livid with possessiveness.
"They won't do that," Greyback growled dangerously, his eyes tinged with flickers of otherworldly gold. Angry gold. "I won't let them touch you," he snarled, surging forwards and seizing a fistful of Harry's hair. Harry gasped, his hands flying up to scratch frantically at Greyback's wrist. "On your knees," the wolf grunted, "it'll only take a second.
Harry was forced down onto his knees despite his protesting limbs by the hand in his hair. It didn't hurt but he couldn't move either. He preferred pain to being trapped. "No!" Harry gasped. "What are you doing?" His eyes flew wide when Greyback's other hand lowered to those low-riding trousers hanging off the werewolf's hips. "Let me go!" He screamed, panicked. "You said I got to choose! Get off me!"
Greyback grunted. He gave Harry's hair a firm tug to immobilise him and to force his head up, making Harry stare up into his face. A face that looked quite terrifying at that moment, Harry was not ashamed to say.
"I'm not going to fuck you, you stupid boy. I'm going to protect you. This whole bloody forest has to know that you're mine to keep you safe. A mark on your throat won't satisfy some of these bastards. There's only two alternatives to sex to keep you safe right now, so choose." With that, he shoved his trousers down the last few inches and produced a long, thick but completely flaccid cock. Harry's eyes went impossibly wide then. It was enormous, only inches from his face and Harry knew only two other things besides sex that involved that. He swallowed, hard.
"Y-You, you want to piss on me or–"
"Cum on you," Greyback finished for him bluntly. "Either is preferable to rape surely?" he demanded gruffly, impatiently. "You need to be as covered in my scent as possible as well as carrying the mark of intent to even stand a chance of warding them off. I can and will tear apart anyone that touches you, but that would risk your safety and I'd prefer to avoid that."
In any other situation, it might strike Harry as odd that the werewolf was capable of thinking so rationally, even if he was an alpha. But right now, all Harry could think about was his cracking pride and…that right in front of his eyes.
Sensing this no doubt, Greyback spoke again in that oddly soothing yet gruff voice, even if he still looked livid. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, you're hardly the first werewolf to have either done to them and if it bothers you so much, you should know that I won't let you move unless you choose one."
"I – I'm not a werewolf, I'm a wizard – I'm a man," Harry insisted, though his voice was almost lost. At this, Greyback released his hair, but Harry kept his head as it was. The hand slid down to touch his unmarked shoulder in would-be consolation.
"One of your parents carried this gene as well and most likely never realised. It only becomes active when you're bitten by a werewolf but it's still part of your blood, as much as it is part of mine–"
"You did this to me," Harry hissed, a hint of despair to his tone that he despised. "Just because you wanted me, because I was the…the best prize–"
"Ultimately yes, but the alternative was you being humiliated and publicly tortured to death," Greyback said, as calmly as any man could with his cock hanging out in front of another's face. Harry fought the urge to bunch up and put distance in between himself and that thing as Greyback continued indifferently, "You'll come to accept this part of yourself just as you accepted your magic."
That thumb that had traced his wounded lip earlier tilted his chin up higher now so his head was leaning back slightly, all while that other hand began to work with fast, unyielding strokes over the burgeoning arousal before his eyes. He shut his eyes tight…
***CENSORED. FOR STORY/CHAPTER WITH FULL SEXUAL SCENES FOLLOW ONE OF THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE.***
"Turn your head, show me your throat," Greyback breathed against his neck, his spittle and hot breath creating a thin layer of moisture across Harry's collarbone. Harry grit his teeth again, swallowing hard against the swell of heat that bubbled up inside him. He glared one final time at Greyback before tilting his head to the side slowly.
A deep, rolling growl of approval shuddered over the lips dangerously close to his adam's apple as it moved with his swallowing this time. It was a sound of unmistakeable appreciation that vibrated across his skin as Greyback dived in for his neck. A mix of teeth, lips and tongue worshipped his throat, going far beyond the bounds of protection, Harry thought. But it was his last conscious thought. Those fangs scraped the frail skin over his tendons just right and his body went rigid. A cry of unadulterated bliss flew from his lips as his eyes glazed over and pleasure seized control of his every limb.
The wolf in him howled with delight as he groaned aloud and his fingers scraped up the dirt beneath him. He felt dizzy again, incoherent but blissfully so this time, not painfully. No one had ever touched any part of him so intimately and the new sensations had driven his already sensitive body into frenzy.
"Yes," Greyback growled intensely against his skin. Harry's body undulated in answer, his conscious mind completely enfolded in the fog of arousal. He could feel every emotion in the wolf gripping him tightly and he had never felt so desired, precious, needed – at home.
His own fingers flew up then to Greyback's long silver locks, scraping frantically at his scalp, tugging his hair in urgent need for – something. Heat coiled like a serpent in his belly and he groaned aloud again, trying to convey his need even if he didn't understand it himself.
"H-Hot!" He gasped out hoarsely. "Aches…!"
A large hand slid down his back, caressing him. He gave a softer cry this time, hearing Greyback panting against his ear.
"Don't tempt me to ease that ache, boy, you'll regret–"
"Make it st… Too hot… Make it…!"
That low rumbling growl answered his cries, a hot tongue laving the shell of his ear.
Suddenly everything stopped. The soft growling in his ear turned to a blood-curdling snarl. It was a roar of danger, of warning. Greyback lifted his head from the crook of Harry's neck and glared into the mist beyond his shoulder. He gripped Harry tighter, but not in ecstasy.
"Don't move, boy," he growled in Harry's ear and shifted back from him a little, releasing him to drop his fur-lined cloak around Harry's shoulders. Pulling the cloak tight around Harry, he got to his feet, moving before him, putting himself between Harry and the shadows slowly appearing from the mist.
Slowly, as Greyback stood, the hazy fog in Harry's mind ebbed away. It lingered ominously at the edges of his mind, not as powerful but very much there – waiting for his urges to become too great again. He knew that the few touches had sated his yearnings temporarily, staggering the moment when he'd be in that dizzying, incoherent confusion again like before. His coherency and human conscience flew back to him in one foul swoop. He had but a moment to feel disgusted by himself, shiver at the echo of his cries before a gruff, unfamiliar voice from ahead of him drew his attention to more urgent matters.
"It's been some time since we saw you last, Fenrir," the cold voice said, danger and snake-like calculation evident in his voice. Harry watched as three large, bulky figures stepped from behind the veil of mist and came into view, a good few metres from them. He felt Greyback bristle and sensed that any closer without invitation and he would rip them to shreds.
He's on edge because I'm in moon heat, he realised, somehow. It was a deep inner knowledge that his werewolf awakening had imbued him with. They all are. And Greyback would rip them to shreds if they touched me. He was not sure if that reassured him or not, but he pulled the fur cloak tighter around him to hide his naked chest despite the fact that he was still boiling hot.
The wolf in him, the moon was telling him to be small at the moment and he could not help but listen to it this time. Even his human pride wasn't stupid enough to rise and square up to a bunch of rogue werewolves without a wand, especially when they couldn't stop looking at him.
He glared back at them, ignoring the moon's whispering suggestion to lower his eyes. He wouldn't bow to Voldemort or Greyback, he most certainly wouldn't bow to these beasts. Greyback shifted in front of him, clearly displeased that the newcomers could not tear their eyes from him. But his every muscle positively throbbed with tension when the man standing between the two others spoke again.
"What brings you here so close to the full moon, Fenrir? And with an unmated sub so ripe with fertility at your heels?"
"He's not unmated, he's mine, Conall," Greyback snapped venomously, reaching behind him to tug the cloak down from Harry's marked throat. Harry winced but did not get the chance to argue. "And that fertility you smell is mine too – he's ripe for me, me alone. I've claimed him ready for mating when we reach my pack. Will you challenge me on this?"
Harry wrenched himself free of Greyback and pulled the cloak tighter around himself again, giving him a mutinous glare before continuing to stare warningly at the trio that stood before them. They were all quite tanned, their skin kissed by the sun and while the two 'book-ends' were identical twins with fiery auburn hair that stuck up in all directions, the middle man that had spoken had hair as dark and rich as blood. An older brother, Harry guessed. They were as rough and wild as the wilderness around them and just as muscled as Greyback, if not quite as tall.
The middle wolf, Conall chuckled at Harry. "A tad obstinate for a sub, is he not? You let a bitch brush off his alpha's touch, Fenrir? You have gone soft. Are his dainty thighs and the treasure between so awe-inspiring as to tame even you?"
Greyback snarled again. "Remind yourself who you're speaking to. I have been the alpha of our entire species even while you still sucked at your mother's tit you insolent whelp." He reached back then and dragged Harry to his feet, keeping a grip on his upper arm but leering at the trio of wolves. "And he is a sub but he's the alpha's sub, not some common bitch. Show some respect. He's on a level far above you."
There was an ominous silence then in the misty clearing. Harry kept his chin high, his jaw set and his eyes on the strangers through it all. He was determined to show no more weakness than they must have seen with him cooing like a slut in Greyback's arms. He flushed and grit his teeth at the memory. He could not think of that now, not when battle could be imminent.
Despite never having come across a werewolf besides Remus, he'd gathered that Greyback was top dog. Still, he had the suspicion that these strays could cause plenty of trouble, especially if the vibe he felt in his bones was right. There were more of them nearby, of that he was certain. At least a handful more rebellious, testosterone-hyped mongrels.
And they can all smell I'm in moon-heat, he thought with a pang of horror.
Greyback stepped a fraction closer to him, as if having heard his thought, or sensed it somehow.
"No offense meant, Alpha," Conall replied with far too much sincerity, bowing his head slightly to Greyback, but not Harry. Greyback growled a little at that and the other wolf added, "nor to you, Alpha Numero. Please, rest with us tonight, we insist. It is the least we can do in apology to shelter you during moon heat, a difficult time for all of us."
Harry bristled at that, foreboding emanating from his very core despite the display of chivalry. They were looking at him with expressions he couldn't quite place, but did not care for regardless. He didn't know how exactly, whether it was simply his instincts or his connection to Greyback but he knew that these rebels meant trouble. He knew just how much danger they posed if he gave them any reason to doubt Greyback's authority. If he made him look weak in any way.
And to them, an alpha that can't even keep his sub in check is a weak one, he thought. Those that lived on the outskirts like these mongrels didn't hold traditions like the rest, Greyback had said as much. Carriers like Harry weren't precious, not 'numero uno', they were weaker. They were chattle to be taken and swapped around at will, to do with as the more powerful saw fit. He shuddered at the thought, his teeth clenching, but his sharp and blatant refusal died before it even left his tongue as a large hand squeezed his shoulder in warning.
As loathed as he was to admit it, without a wand Greyback was his only protection right now. If he acted up he could put them both in danger, especially as he could sense that there were many more nearby, waiting for a fight – longing for it. He could sense their bloodlust from where he stood.
And it's not just because emotions are running high at moon heat either…
A large hand on his shoulder silenced the sharp and blatant refusal that had been about to leap from his tongue, but he could not help but grind his teeth when Greyback spoke.
"You know how to apologise at least," he grunted, stance still tense. "My mate is in need of rest and a full stomach at this time of the month."
Harry couldn't help but notice the wolf on the right was staring at him as if sizing him up. "From the looks of things he doesn't eat like the rest of us," the wolf said after another moment of uncomfortable staring. Harry frowned, wondering exactly what that was supposed to mean, but Greyback cut him off again.
"His body is made differently but it carries werewolf blood," he growled, that edge of warning still prominent in his voice. "All carriers are the same. Surely even a whelp can cook a meal for their alpha's mate?"
It was an insult that they had questioned this in the first place, Harry realised, his head beginning to hurt, his mind slowly being swamped with werewolf etiquette. He winced, pressing his palm to his forehead hard, trying to rub away the pain. It failed. Greyback squeezed his shoulder harder in what he probably thought was comfort. Harry inwardly snarled. He just wished he would stop touching him; the werewolf in him was enjoying it too much.
"Show me to your fire," Greyback demanded then, his hand sliding down to grip Harry's arm and hold him close to his side as he began to move forwards. "Would you keep us standing here all bloody night?"
Another lesson in werewolf etiquette, Harry realised was that a brash, rude and demanding alpha was the most desired kind – the most respected among these creatures. The moment they stepped into the rebels' camp it became a war of testosterone, one that Greyback was winning of course, but just barely.
Harry watched them all quietly out of the corner of his eye as he sat on the fur cloak Greyback had draped around him earlier, laying it out underneath him like a blanket. He ate the rabbit they had been forced to cook him over the fire quietly, grateful that his place was furthest from everyone else and yet close enough to the fire that the arms of the wilderness around them did not quite envelop him.
Greyback was in the throng of testosterone, the centre of the rowdy conversation and boisterous laughter that was all too forced for Harry's liking. He felt irritable and sweaty again. His skin was tingling with unbearable heat and he swore the places where Greyback's seed had painted him earlier were white hot now. He was swiftly becoming overwhelmed with it once again. Moon heat, he decided was simply another name for torture, one he would have to endure until he got back to the wizarding world and managed to find a cure for….
His throat tightened around his last mouthful of rabbit at the thought of the wizarding world, at the thought of Ron, Hermione and everyone else that must be worried frantic for him. He swallowed hard around the lump of meat lodged in his throat and wiped his hands on the dewy grass before laying down, his back turned to the unruly dozen around the campfire – all of whom he could feel sneaking looks at him.
They were rebels, without a pack but they were in Greyback's territory, which meant he was their alpha, pack or no pack. He had the feeling they would have still have no qualms about trying it on with him, whether they believed him to be their alpha's or not. Loyalty was about as thick as water with these pariahs; he could sense it from the way they smelled. They reeked of lust and anger and blood. He cringed at the thought of any of them touching him, even as his body shivered in longing for touch of any kind.
He belonged to no one, especially not any of the horny arseholes not a few feet from him. And I'll kill myself before I let any of them impregnate me, he snarled mentally, the very idea making him feel almost as ill as that of his loved ones and what they must be thinking had happened to him. I'll get back to them, he thought determinedly, reminding himself of his plan over and over, using it to stop himself from tumbling into the gaping abyss of despair opening – waiting for him to topple in.
"You haven't claimed him properly," a voice from the fireside said, evidently to Greyback. Harry swore it was that Conall, the boisterous prick from earlier. He seemed to be the 'leader' of this pack of misfits. And his is the gaze that won't stop lingering over me every time I move, Harry thought, shifting a little so that he could pull half of Greyback's cloak over him, determinedly covering himself despite the fact that his body was on fire with sweat. He struggled to feign sleep, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of thinking he'd heard their jeers.
"Is that why he reeks of melancholy?" Conall snorted. "Surely even Alpha Fenrir Greyback isn't cruel enough to tease his bitch during moon-heat?"
Greyback made a non-committal grunt. The sound of him tearing off another mouthful from the leg of stag he'd been chewing punctuated the sound. "It's his first moon heat–"
"All the more reason, begin as you mean to go on – it's early April, he can still have a litter for the autumn if you act now."
Harry felt sick at how eager Conall sounded and at the length of the silence that fell between the beasts at the fireside. Eventually Greyback answered. "I'll act as I please and if it pleases me to act in a week's time or a month, or a year it's no one's decision but my own. A pack works differently to this type of…settlement you have here," Greyback said gruffly. "Carriers need to feel secure in their environment when expecting, their bodies are sensitive to stress–"
"Bollocks," Conall snorted, his mouth full of his own meal by the sounds of it. "He's Alpha Numero, the Alpha's other half. He's a bitch. They exist to serve us, not to be catered to." Either side of him, his twin brothers (who Harry had learned were named Cannagan and Caleb) chuckled around their mouthfuls.
"I've never understood the 'traditional' way," Conall continued. "Why waste time courting them, wooing them when we can just take them? They're carriers, they're born to carry, to have as many cubs as they can before they die. We give their lives purpose. Why should we chase after them?"
"As many as possible?" Greyback repeated, as if that were the most stupid thing he had ever heard. "There's a reason why nature only kicks out one of them to every 3 of us, a reason they were rare even before the Ministry…" Harry could hear Greyback grinding his teeth as his voice died and wondered vaguely what the werewolf had been about to say. At least, the ever dwindling coherent part of his mind wondered…
"Our kind were never meant to breed like that. Even muggles know how it works. The weaker species, the rabbits and rats make young a plenty. The strong, those most likely to survive past their suckling years have less. We don't need to procreate, we bite and then we live for centuries."
Harry swore he felt Greyback's gaze fall upon him now along with everyone else's and he tried to slow his breathing so that his feigned sleep would seem more convincing.
"They're a gift. We shouldn't be able to have live young from our own bodies but they enable us to," Greyback continued. "He's special, he's obstinate and strong and that's why I chose him as my own. Only mine, I don't share," he grunted. "I've had my fill of passing whores and tumbles in the grass. He will be my mate, that's why I court him. You can't force a mate, they must come to you willingly."
Greyback grumbled, gnawing the final chunk of meat from the bone before tossing it into the fire. The flames danced and hissed, flowing sinuously up towards the sky, as if beckoning it down to its bed like a lover. "I didn't bargain for having to give lessons the night before moon heat. Rogue pups that don't even know the basics of courtship and breeding have no business being without a pack."
"We've been in your territory a while, Alpha," Cannagan replied.
Greyback got to his feet then, his great mass casting a large shadow over where Harry lay. "Do you think you would've remained here so peacefully if I hadn't permitted it? I knew you were here, runt, don't think you've outsmarted me!"
Cannagan, who Harry thought was about as much of a runt as Hagrid, growled under his breath, but something cut short the sound, a thud of flesh hitting flesh. Conall smacking his brother to his knees.
"Your brothers need to learn respect before they learn to use their tongues," Greyback grumbled, "You're their leader, their incompetence is a shame on you. I suggest you fix them before the packs you all left behind come to think of you as common dogs." With that, Greyback turned from them and stalked over to where Harry lay. "And if I am forced to fix them for not being able to keep their pricks in check tonight you'll all feel my displeasure."
Harry could not help but tense as the werewolf flumped to the ground beside him, not demanding more of Harry's fur cloak to lay on as Harry had expected but merely laying so close to him that Harry could feel his heat through the fur. Harry swallowed. His lips parted dryly, sweat beaded across his brow but before he could find his words Greyback spoke.
"Sleep," he grunted, for his ears only.
Harry said nothing. He was so hot all over, his skin was tingling and itching at once like earlier and his veins were throbbing with white-hot need. A diminutive whine of a groan he had never heard come through a human's lips left him then. His body arched. He pressed his head hard into the fur in an attempt to alleviate some of the maddening inner itch. His cock was throbbing and he had to curl his fingers tightly into the fur to stop himself from reaching down to try and sate it.
"Cant…!" He gasped then, frustration and humiliation rippling through him. He knew that every beast there could smell him, smell the pre-come weeping from his prick even if they couldn't see him from behind Greyback's massive body. He sank his teeth unyieldingly into his lip to stop another revolting whimpering gasp from escaping him.
An unbearable, elongated moment passed, and then another. Then suddenly Greyback's weight shifted behind him and a large hand slid under the fur and cloth between them to slide up Harry's torso. "Be still," Greyback growled warningly in his ear, putting all of his teeth into the words when Harry began to protest. The other hand snuck up to knot tightly in Harry's dark, sweaty locks, tugging his head back to rest against his shoulder and leaving his throat exposed to Greyback's hot breath
Harry's very core trembled. His breath came out in shaky pants and he slammed his eyes shut. He didn't want this. His muscles were tensed for a struggle for freedom even though his body was groaning for release. He felt like a line of elastic pulled taut to breaking point. This was no pleasure, this was torture!
Suddenly that mouth pressed over his marked throat and stayed there, the hand that had been knotted in his hair sliding forwards to cup his damp, furrowed brow. It felt oddly soothing. The touch even calmed the throbbing in his scar that had been constant for some time now. His previously screwed up eyes remained closed but relaxed, even if the heat did not ebb away. His throat was still dry and his body was still clenched in longing.
"Sleep," Greyback demanded again, and this time, with his greedy body's desires held at bay, Harry could not help but succumb to the exhaustion that tugged heartily at his consciousness.
"Sleep," that gruff growl murmured against his flesh once more, just under his ear. Harry felt his resolve slipping along with his awareness. He barely heard a final whisper of, "go to sleep, boy," before he drifted completely away from the itchy, stiflingly hot reality.
Fog and darkness had mated around him to form an impenetrable veil when he opened his eyes. He wondered how high up in the country they were as his consciousness slowly drifted back to him and he blinked blearily at the world. He thought vaguely of the highlands, of the moors and if they were anywhere near Hogwarts. But before he could even remember where he was and whose body was beside him, he became aware of the dreaded torture that had exhausted him into slumber a few hours ago…
It felt like hundreds of white-hot droplets of acid rain were beating down over his skin with relentless fury. His sweat was so icy cold in the chilly night that it burned as much as the imaginary burning downpour. His muscles were shaking with spasms in his body, making his bones, his very teeth chatter even though he was boiling hot. With a groan he threw the fur cloak off him, tugging frantically at his baggy shirt and trousers.
Too hot! It was too hot!
A low animalistic growl rumbled in his throat like the desperate grumble of a frustrated beast. He writhed and arched on his place beside Greyback, who remained blissfully asleep, though he did stir. Not that Harry had the presence of mind to care. Rolling onto his hands and knees, the growl turned into a mewl of desperation and he wriggled out of his shirt, throwing himself away from the warmth the dying fire and bodies surrounding it provided.
It was still too hot!
He was crawling now through the beautifully cool dirt, pressing his torso to the undergrowth to feel the blissful coolness that the dewy grass gave him. He almost purred, almost, as he squirmed out of his loose trousers, rolling in the dirt with an inhuman yip before tumbling into a nearby tree. Harry halted there on all fours, shaking himself off before laying back languidly in the grass.
The maddening heat had faded a little but something was not quite right. Harry raised his head and caught a brief glimpse of the moon peeking between the dark billows of cloud and fog. As woke more thoroughly, things began to seem clearer. He could see and smell and even taste things better. He didn't feel as inconsolable with heat anymore but his body still ached.
Suddenly, a low, distinctly different growl whisked over him, making the hairs all along his neck stand on end. He closed his eyes and inhaled, lowering himself flat to the ground on his belly, where he kicked his arse up, swaying it slightly as if wagging a tail that wasn't really there. A husky, grumbling whine trickled over his lips. He didn't need to look up to know who it was standing over him.
~To Be Continued...