.: Chapter Ten :.
Only the Moon Howls
A heavy veil of icy fog settled over Harry's dreams over the next few days. He didn't see anything in particular when he slept but he could sense Voldemort's grasping, spider-like fingers clawing frantically at the world, searching for his mind. Harry was for once perfectly safe from his thoughts and he could not help but wonder how long it would take for Voldemort's paranoia to overwhelm him.
Fenrir assured him there was no way Voldemort could get in – that no one could get in if they weren't part of the pack and even if he could, as far as Voldemort was concerned Harry was being tortured into an amicable lap dog. "With his connection to your mind blocked he has no way of telling otherwise," Fenrir had said, but when Harry asked what would happen if Voldemort called for him to produce his 'prisoner' as he'd promised, Fenrir could offer nothing more than "we'll jump off that bridge when we come to it, pet."
The last few days had been…something, however. Everyone, even Ghost seemed to notice the change between the alpha pair.
Heat tingled across Harry's skin like thousands of tiny zaps of electricity tugging at every hair on his body. He remembered the deep insatiable ache in his belly, the call of his moon heat from last month. This time however, anyone that so much as looked at Harry for longer than a moment had their heads nearly bitten off by Fenrir in his own frustrated, possessive moon heat.
It'd gotten to the point where Accalia had even been growled at warningly when he'd come to relieve Harry of the twins, who had been spinning around him with glee all morning. The children were allowed to climb all over him, it seemed, but no adult – mated or not was permitted within a few feet. Oddly enough though, Harry understood it.
Fenrir was horny and possessive because the moon was bringing their instincts to the surface and among the pack, everyone seemed to be more…animal with each day approaching the full moon night. Even Harry was feeling it today; he had the unmistakeable urge to go down on his knees and grind himself shamelessly against Fenrir's body, but had thankfully managed to refrain – for now.
After Weylyn had invaded the invisible boundary around Harry on his way past him and ended up in a (apparently harmless) tussle on the ground with his alpha, Harry had 'suggested' he and Fenrir take a walk again. It was quite interesting, the power of his persuasion at this time of the month; Fenrir seemed quite amicable to anything he suggested.
"Will you let me run you, pet?" Fenrir growled as they walked through the winding tunnels that lead out of the mountain, Ghost's pale fur glowing in the dim light ahead. Harry was distracted by the healthy; eager bound of the adolescent wolf ahead and failed to answer in his distraction. Unfortunately, his mate's already fragile patience was completely absent today. Abruptly Fenrir seized Harry's throat, pulling his head back so that he could press his nose against the silver scar at Harry's neck. He inhaled and it seemed to calm the ferocity in him a little. But Harry already knew werewolves were temperamental and feisty, even more so near the moon.
"Let me chase you," Fenrir murmured, licking him.
"Soon," Harry promised, pacifying him before moving out of Fenrir's hold and following Ghost through the tunnels, the alpha close behind him. He didn't know what it was that he had with Fenrir, but he liked it, liked the feel of him when he was close by. Even he couldn't deny that a zing of arousal burst through him whenever the werewolf grabbed him as he had a moment ago. He was born for this, he supposed, as everyone had been saying for the last month.
Once they were a few feet out of the cave and the entrance to it had closed up behind them, a low, impatient half-whine, half-growl sounded from behind him. Harry turned to see the familiar silver wolf staring back at him with eyes rimmed with gold, panting heavily. His legs and tail were stiff, his ears erect and forward – showing every inch his dominance. He was staring penetratingly at Harry but when Harry didn't move, his stiff tail moved high and wagged from side to side playfully. He wanted Harry to run.
Harry stared at him levelly for a moment, and bent down to retrieve Fenrir's trousers that had fallen to the ground as he'd transformed. Tugging off his own trousers (his shirt long forgotten in the den, for he could not bear the feel of clothes on his skin at this time) he offered them to Ghost, who gripped them between his teeth.
"Meet you at the waterfall," he said and with a muffled yip, Ghost sped off like a wolf on a mission, the garments tightly gripped in his jaws.
It felt good to get out of those restricting, itchy, unbearable clothes; so good that Harry gave a sigh. His instincts ruling his actions meant that he didn't care so much about his nudity. Modesty didn't occur to a werewolf and the werewolf in him was the most dominant at the moment, with the moon tugging at his senses. It wasn't too far away.
A sharp growl reminded him that his mate was watching and Harry cocked his head. The wolf's tail was wagging more frantically now. A low whine left his own human lips as he stepped forwards, reaching out and running his fingers over Fenrir's muzzle. He smirked when the giant wolf nudged into his hand, dipping his head so that Harry's fingers slid back over his furry ears. A rumbling sound of contentment left him when Harry spanned the remaining space between them, resting his head against Fenrir's neck and dragging his fingers firmly through his thick silvery fur.
His sensory perception in overdrive, Harry mimicked the sound at the feel of that soft coat tickling his chest. "Nice," he managed out; his voice low and almost lost on the air. He couldn't manage more than one or two words at a time at the moment, incoherent sounds and actions felt so much more natural.
With a rumbling sound of agreement, Fenrir nudged him firmly, sending him stumbling back a few feet. He still wanted to play chase it seemed and Harry was more than happy to oblige. In an instant he'd turned and bolted into the trees, the pounding of Fenrir's paws on the earth sounding loudly as he flew after him.
The familiar rush of excitement from the chase pounded through his body and Harry found himself purposefully brushing against trees on his way through the forest, leaving a trail of his scent in his wake. A quick glance round showed his tactics driving his pursuer into frenzy, pausing to sniff frantically at anything Harry had rubbed against with his tail high.
If anyone had told him a month ago he would be running through the forest naked with Fenrir Greyback he would have keeled over laughing, but this felt so…right. Right now, it was as Fenrir had said before, the wolf and the human were one in the same. With a breathless smirk Harry dove between two trees, coming out panting and sweaty by the pool and waterfall they had been at only a few days ago. Ghost was lounging beside their clothes far to the side and pricked his ears at the sight of him, ever watchful.
On hearing Fenrir coming up behind him, Harry sloped down into the pool quickly but silently, taking a deep gasp of air before submerging himself in the water. He waited, perfectly still under the cover of the lightly rippling surface but after a moment or too, his lungs began to ache for air. Cautiously, he pushed his head above the surface and gasped as he saw the silver wolf standing on the edge, watching him with those piercing eyes. The alpha growled playfully, Harry's only warning before he leapt in after him with an almighty crash of his body against the water.
Harry's sounds of laughter were cut short as Fenrir dragged him under, circling him with great swipes of his feet treading the water. His massive muzzle pressed into Harry as he moved, the power of him sending Harry gliding back in the pool. Harry let it happen, holding his breath and kicking his feet to stay afloat. As they moved he ran his fingers through Fenrir's fur, revelling in the way it felt to his heightened senses.
After a moment, when the need for breath was just beginning to ache in his lungs, Fenrir's nose nudged him upward. He rolled over the wolf's head in the water until he was lying with his belly on Fenrir's back. A rumble reverberated through the pool and Fenrir surged up, breaking the surface along with Harry, who gasped in the delicious air that was so fresh on his tongue. He even relished the very feel of the droplets of water rushing down over his bare skin.
Harry gave a small, inhuman yip of breathless delight and gripped Fenrir tightly with his thighs to keep himself secure as the wolf ambled out of the pool. He shook himself dry fiercely and Harry hung on tighter to avoid being dislodged, only to roll down off the side and land with a thud on the grassy bank.
At their side, Ghost was wagging his tail, apparently happy to see Harry enjoying himself. Harry beamed at him, about to roll onto his front to move closer to him only to have a massive paw pin him carefully (but firmly) in place on his back. The rough pads tickled his stomach and he squirmed, whining deep in his throat when Fenrir leant down to sniff at his neck.
Harry turned his head to the side in sated submission, lying completely flat, content and unhampered by the need to make any decisions or fight to draw his next breath. It was peace he felt as Fenrir snuffled at his neck, then his chest and stomach, skipping down to rub his face along the length of Harry's legs and feet. The wolf scented him thoroughly before stretching out on the grass beside him with a grunt of contentment.
Harry moved over on all fours until he came to lay across Fenrir's back. He rubbed his cheek into the warm fur at the back of his neck, sighing at the sensations he felt rushing through him. With every day that passed he was becoming more aware of everything, more understanding of himself for the first time in his life.
The sun warmed the sleeping trio, allowing them to bask in its heat together, that was until a call of nature tugged Harry awake. He groaned, letting his muscles stretch as he rolled carefully off of Fenrir's back and glanced around for a place to relieve himself. He raked his fingers through the grass, relishing its cool caress on his limbs before he rose to his feet, striding into the bushes. Leaning against a tree with one shoulder, he took hold of his penis and relieved himself at its roots, the slight ache in his bladder subsiding slowly.
Just as the flow had died, however, he felt an overwhelming presence behind him. His limbs tightened briefly and he groaned before dropping to his knees. He could smell a dominant; he needed to show his submission. The dominant partners were possessive and territorial and Fenrir even more so over him because of what he was – a breeder. But he, Harry was only one of a few and so carried instincts that urged him to preserve himself when they were at their peak. He knew what to do to ensure his life; it was engrained in him so deep he didn't even need to think.
"Oh, baby you're a bonny little thing," a familiar coarse voice whispered. Harry lowered his eyes and didn't move as the male circled him, coming to stand before him. "You smell of the alpha, but you're so ready and all alone."
Harry did not move even as, out of the corner of his eye he watched the male direct his own long, limp cock to spray over the place Harry had just relieved himself.
Harry swallowed uneasily, the other male was double-marking, he knew what that meant and he shuffled backwards to avoid the flow. A warning growl froze him before he got more than a few feet away. He whined low – in fear and submission rather than bliss as he had with Fenrir earlier and rolled onto his back, exposing his throat and stomach in his one greatest defence mechanism.
It was fur that he saw above him next rather than a man, dark brown fur mottled with white and grey but carrying a scent he recognised. The wolf was big but not quite as big as Fenrir, Harry realised as the beast moved to stand over him, snuffling firmly at his hair and neck, probably smelling Fenrir all over him. Harry arched his back and spread his legs in the dirt, willing his alpha's scenting to rise from his skin and whined again when he felt teeth skim his silver mark.
Then, suddenly he saw it, the beast's large unsheathed red penis, erect and hovering just a few inches from him. Panic seized him and he snarled in fear and fury at once. Bunching his legs under the monster's stomach he kicked hard upwards, sending the creature rearing back in winded shock.
Harry gasped and rolled onto his feet, bolting from the cover of the trees. The wolf swiped at him, sending him hurtling into the ground. He yelped as the beast nudged his hind-quarters up and began shifting behind him in a way that made Harry's stomach lurch. This wolf was strong but it wasn't his mate. He could feel the heat coming off of the creature's body overwhelming him and he snarled again. When a large paw came down threateningly beside his head he instinctively lashed out and sank his blunt teeth as hard as he could into the leg it was attached to.
It was hard enough to leave the taste of hot metallic blood in his mouth and he growled again, spitting the blood out and kicking the creature hard on his muzzle when his mouth descended in a would-be subduing bite. A huge paw swiped him across the cheek, sending his head snapping to the side so that he could taste his own blood in his mouth next. But just as that jaw descended to punish him, another snarl came from the side and Harry saw a flash of grey as Ghost flew over him, his fangs sinking hard into his assailant's muzzle.
Harry shoved up onto his haunches as Ghost dropped back to his side on his paws, his tail high and mouth drawn back in aggression. It reassured him, but it was the low rumble of a growl that Harry felt more than heard beside him that made his panic subside. The alpha's presence made the very air he breathed in thick and warm. Still, Harry had another's scent clinging to him now, that wasn't right. He whined again, rolling onto his back and staring up as the familiar silver wolf came into view, standing over him but with his eyes locked on the attacker.
It was as if he hadn't noticed Harry at all. Despair filled him. He wanted his alpha to acknowledge him, to show him that he wasn't angry at him for the scent that tainted his own. Harry pressed his head hard into the dirt and arched a little, letting a low, desperate sound trickle over his lips. That pitiful sound made Fenrir's head jerk down to him, his eyes almost completely overwhelmed with gold.
That silver head descended and Harry arched up to meet it. A relieved exhalation left him when that muzzle nuzzled him intimately at his throat and torso, a long wet tongue swiping at the length of him in assurance. Fenrir butted him gently with his nose on the bruised side of his face, urging him back onto his feet. Slowly, Harry rose and caressed his alpha's flanks as he walked behind him out of the way.
As he moved out of their range with Ghost at his side, still watching the two werewolves stare each other out, Harry felt his mind clearing a little of the haze of instincts. With their hormones all running so high, he was sure that the pheromones his 'dominant' colleagues were putting out were a large part of why he had lost himself a little just then. That and the warm throb of the moon's presence growing ever nearer.
Still, he flushed as he remembered what he had done a moment ago and moved towards where they had relaxed earlier to pull his trousers back on, suddenly aware of his nudity too. No sooner had he covered what little remained of his dignity, however, than all hell broke loose. A living ball of fur, fangs and snarling bodies rolled across the dirt. A roar Harry identified as Fenrir's filled the clearing – it carried through Harry's body like an earthquake and he stood still as he watched the silver wolf throw the darker one from his body, sending it sprawling across the ground.
It was not in 'weakness' that he stood still, but in 'rightness'. It was Fenrir's responsibility to fight as the alpha, as his mate and he knew that deep down. Despite his true mind returning to him, he could not force himself to move knowing that.
The other wolf groaned as he morphed back into a man, a sign of contrition even as he stumbled to his feet. Still a wolf, Fenrir snarled at him again and pawed at the earth, his fangs bared warningly. Harry watched as the assailant, Weylyn bowed his head and exposed his neck in apology to Fenrir.
"Alpha, forgive me – it's the moon tonight and I was having a run when I smelt his fluids. I am sorry, I was too weak, Alpha, he smelt so–"
SLAM!
A swipe of Fenrir's massive paw sent him sprawling back in the dirt and Harry watched as Weylyn clasped his face and blood wept from his chin onto the ground. He's paying him back in kind for what he did to me, Harry realised, before he punishes him for the sheer disrespect of his actions. He'd lived with them for nearly a month and he knew how precious reverence was among the pack.
"Fenrir!" Harry shouted, forcing back his instinct to remain still when he watched the silver wolf lunge for Weylyn again. "Fenrir, stop you'll kill him!" He bolted across the grass, surprising himself with his own speed and strength as he found himself in front of Fenrir and on all fours between him and Weylyn. He gasped and Fenrir skidded to a halt in the dirt, growling at him, leaving no room to mistake his meaning. Get out of the way.
"You have other ways of punishing – the moon heat is making us all mad," Harry tried to reason with him. With a final snarl, the silver wolf jerked and morphed back into the man Harry knew, visibly seething.
"You forget that he was eager to rape you but a month ago with my scent still on you!" Fenrir snapped through gritted teeth, "there are only so many times a disrespectful pig like him can be forgiven." He moved forwards, evidently expecting Harry to move but Harry reached out, shoving Fenrir's shoulders hard. The sharpness of the action halted him again, even though Harry didn't say another word.
With a snarl, Fenrir reached up, his rough thumb brushing over Harry's mouth, tugging his lip up at the corner to see blood there. "He hurt you," Fenrir said with a mixture of barely concealed anger and disgust in his voice.
"I hurt him back," Harry replied, reaching up and wrapping his fingers around Greyback's wrist. "I bit the fucker. It's done."
At that, Fenrir snorted and gave Harry one last lingering look before circling around him and staring down at Weylyn, who had wisely not risen from his hands and knees where he had last landed in the dirt. "My mate wants me to forgive you, but I know you're a rotten egg, one that can't be saved. If you fuck up again, Weylyn–"
"Alpha. I won't disrespect you again–"
"Or my mate!" Fenrir roared, towering over him. "You seem to have a problem with boundaries when it comes to him. But however good he smells or looks he's mine. The fact that his pheromones call out to you more than any other sub should only make you want to prove your will and resist."
Weylyn bowed his head and swallowed audibly, keeping his posture contrite and suitably submissive. Fenrir sneered at him. "You tried to double mark him, you tried to take what wasn't yours…" He paused to let the dramatic effect fester for a moment and then added, "hold out your hands."
Harry felt the foreboding in that tone more than heard it and saw Weylyn raise his head a fraction in fear.
"Hold out your hands!" Fenrir roared when Weylyn did not comply immediately. At the bark, Weylyn shakily obeyed. Harry's entire body tensed along with his as Fenrir shot forwards, seizing one wrist and yanking Weylyn up onto his knees by it. With a final snarl, the alpha jerked his hand and twisted the other wolf's forefinger, yanking it back with a sickening snap.
Weylyn screamed. Harry winced but stood still, Ghost now at his side, leaning slightly against him as if to comfort him. Harry reached down and scratched behind his ears gently, distracting himself from the revolting screams and crunching of bones as Fenrir shattered the other three fingers in turn. When he was done, Fenrir shoved the hands back at Weylyn in disgust and held his own palm out expectantly.
"Give me the other," he demanded when Weylyn did nothing but hug his wounded hand to him. "Don't make me wait!" It was a disturbing sight when Harry watched Weylyn offer up his uninjured hand. He wasn't sure what to make of the satisfaction he felt emanating from Fenrir as he broke each of Weylyn's other fingers like twigs, the nauseating bloody crunching echoing through the clearing.
"I'll leave you your thumbs, which is more than you deserve," Fenrir snapped, stepping back from the quivering wolf with disgust. "Now get back to the den and report to Echo for your duties."
Weylyn did not wait for Fenrir to change his mind. He bolted from where he lay without preamble, fazing into the wolf as he went and limping clumsily out of sight. It was not until Harry felt Fenrir's heat against his skin and two strong arms around his waist that he tore his eyes from the place in the trees that Weylyn had disappeared through.
"You didn't care for my punishment," Fenrir muttered, tilting Harry's chin up to him, running his thumb across Harry's lower lip thoughtfully.
"I don't like suffering of any kind," Harry murmured, "but I do understand why you did it." He paused a smirk touching his lips. "It's because you care about me." He remembered wanting to kill Bellatrix when she had killed Sirius. He remembered wanting to tear Snape limb from limb when Dumbledore had…
"Do I now?" Fenrir murmured coarsely, his large fingers curling slightly on Harry's bare back, grazing his skin lightly with his claws. "Believe me, pet, if he'd have seriously hurt or touched you there would be no force in the world that would stop me from ripping his throat out. You're mine." He spoke with a familiar possessiveness and reverence that filled Harry up from the inside with vibrating heat. The rumbling in his throat made Harry relax in his arms slightly and he closed his eyes, rolling his head to the side to let Fenrir nuzzle into his throat.
"I'd have probably ripped his balls off if he'd hurt you," Harry muttered. He felt Fenrir chuckle into his throat, punctuating the sound by nipping his silver-hued mark affectionately. He urged Harry closer into his chest so that he could share his body's warmth with him.
Once the anxiety that had ruled him since Weylyn had approached him faded completely, Harry spoke again. "If I'm an alpha too, why couldn't I stand up to Weylyn?" he asked.
Fenrir drew back a fraction to meet his eyes. "It's because you're in heat. Your instincts tell you to remain healthy and safe and in prime condition for breeding tonight. Your prime objective is to achieve that," Fenrir explained. "Under normal circumstances you wouldn't let him get one over on you so easy. You're superior to him in rank and will be in strength one day soon as well."
Harry snorted, doubting that extremely, although he had noticed his abilities growing at a much faster rate than he'd anticipated. "Perhaps I'll be so strong one day that you'll bare your neck to me," he smirked without any human inhibition, leaning up on the tips of his toes to graze Fenrir's throat with his lips. The werewolf growled low in pleasure.
"And that's what you want, pet?"
Harry tilted his head to the side with a purposeful croon. "I want you to fuck me, before we have to get back for the full moon rising."
"Mmm, yes…" Fenrir breathed, gripping Harry's hair and tugging gently until his head was pulled back and he could mouth those lips ravenously. "I'm going to fill you up so good the scent of me will be buried in you 'til the next moon…"
The rising of the full moon was like a party to the pack, Harry discovered. They had a ravenous feast early under the orange light of the sun to sate their appetites and therefore calm their wolves as much as possible. The excitement as the sun set was nearly tangible, especially in the children who currently were running around him in excited circles. Some were dropping onto all-fours and pretending to be wolves already, pouncing and tussling with each other in the grass.
"Alright, take it slow," Harry admonished one of Accalia's twins, lifting her from where she had pinned Vilkas to the floor and setting her on her feet. "You've just eaten don't climb all over each other yet." The girl squeaked and threw herself at him instead, barrelling into his legs and sending him staggering to the floor. He gave an "oof" as he landed in the grass and the other tots scrambled over to dog-pile on top of him.
Harry couldn't help but laugh. He rolled onto his stomach and attempt to crawl away with one or two toddlers still hanging off his back.
"Rawr!" Vilkas growled in his best impression of a bloodthirsty beast and pounced on him, sending the other, larger tots tumbling off into the grass. He dived down, miming biting Harry's shoulder. Harry laughed and reached back, hauling the small body over his shoulder and onto the ground in front of him.
"Mine!" Vilkas cooed and Harry frowned. "I bit you!" the child elaborated at sight of his confusion.
Harry flushed a little, realising what he meant. "You think I'm your mate?" he laughed. "Don't let Greyback hear that, you may be small but he's very possessive," he teased, seizing the boy under his armpits and rolling him back onto his feet so the tumbling game of chase could continue.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Weylyn return from his 'final check' of the forest and surrounding areas. To his relief, he gave the report to Echo and not Fenrir, who wasn't in sight at the moment. Apparently it was Weylyn's job to ensure there was no one in their territory before dark and so reduce the unsettled, territorial nature of the pack. He was the last one back in and Harry watched him turn to close the gate to the outside world. The moon must be coming soon, that was why Harry's skin felt all…tingly, as if he had pins and needles all over his body.
Then, at last he felt it. The moon was here.
"Come," Fenrir's coarse, gravelly voice murmured close to his ear and a shiver ran through him. Harry scooped Vilkas off his back once more before he was steered away towards Fenrir's den. Fenrir left the door behind them ajar, but they were perfectly secluded in the warm dimly lit cavern that had become so comfortable to him in the last few weeks.
He remained compliant, allowing Fenrir to steer him over to the bed. He sat on the edge, staring up at Fenrir as the alpha slowly began to strip.
"You may not turn but you'll run on instinct alone tonight as well," Fenrir explained huskily, not tearing his eyes away as he let his shirt and trousers fall to the floor. "The pack won't hurt you, you're above them in rank. If anyone except me challenges you, stand your ground – they will back down."
Harry nodded, licking his suddenly dry lips anxiously. His fingers curled tight into the furs lining the bed. This was mad, absolutely mad! "If I'm safe, why are we hidden in here?" Harry asked cautiously.
Fenrir smirked. "Because the change is a personal thing for a werewolf and his mate when the other half is a carrier of the recessive gene," he explained with a look on his face that made Harry even more nervous. "I didn't think you'd appreciate everyone seeing you like that, especially when you don't know what to expect…" He trailed off there and Harry nodded mutely, licking his lips again.
"Don't fuck me as the wolf," Harry breathed, his words stiff and unyielding but heavy with unspoken pleading. "I don't…I can't do that."
Fenrir stared down at him. "If you spurn me I won't force you. Werewolves are rough but you're my mate and you can say no to me. I'd advise you not to behave challengingly but you won't be raped by me. I won't promise the wolf won't get riled up – it's in its nature to want to breed you, but you can stop me…" He paused, leaning down so that he was resting one knee between Harry's thighs. "Just as much as you can stop me now," he murmured, their lips barely a hairsbreadth apart.
Harry exhaled shakily and nodded. Merlin this is ridiculous, he thought, shaking his head and trying to get a grip on his anxiety. He had faced down basilisks, dragons and dementors and yet he was afraid of the man who had been his…his lover for the last month? It was so stupid he wanted to slap himself.
"It's alright to be a bit afraid," Fenrir murmured, drawing Harry back from his self-effacing reverie. "I'd think you were stupid if you weren't. It'll be fine, trust me."
Harry stared at him, those last two words striking something odd inside him. "Why can I handle everything else and charge in head first without a thought? This isn't… I've been afraid before but I've never frozen up like this."
"It's because this is something you can't fight," Fenrir explained, with the tone of someone who had explained this to countless new werewolves before. "This is who you are. It's unknown, it's bloody terrifying but you'll be fine. You'll see." A small shudder of anticipation rushed through his muscles and he straightened up with a fleeting lick to Harry's lips, his every limb tensing.
"It's coming," was the last whispering growl that left that mouth – the mouth that had worshipped Harry's body shamelessly over the last month. The mouth that then began to morph into a silvery muzzle. Harry's entire body froze where he sat transfixed with the change, feeling it sweeping through him as it turned 'Fenrir' into 'Greyback'. His instincts reared up inside him and he felt his head swim with that pleasurable, carefree mist. He closed his eyes, gasping at the sensation of weightlessness and did not open his eyes again until his flesh was humming from the moon's light.
Greyback gave a low growl of impatience in front of him. The alpha was naturally proud and so as a wolf, he was hungry for Harry's attention always. He straightened up smugly, apparently pleased when Harry looked at him.
White spots danced briefly before Harry's eyes as the den came into focus and his breathing and heartbeat slowly calmed. With a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat he moved forwards, rubbing his body along the length of Greyback's side in contentment.
The silver wolf turned his head to watch him, butting his nose against Harry's face as he came to a stop beside him. Harry reached up, running his fingers slowly across Greyback's muzzle, up to his ears and down again to stroke every inch of his glossy, silky fur. The wolf grumbled low in contentment, bowing his head so that Harry could reach more of him, his tail swaying slightly from side to side.
Harry could practically sense the wolf's thoughts. This was what Greyback's instincts had been urging him towards for so long, a mate as stubborn, defiant and strong as him, one that would revere him as he did them. Harry stroked his flanks and the thick fur of his belly and the wolf pressed into him.
They spent some time just like that. The wolf licked and nuzzled intermittently against any part of Harry he could reach, until the initial afterglow of his first transformation with a mate faded into soft warmth within them both. After some time, the silver wolf stretched. Harry watched every muscle tighten with the desire to do…something. His belly was full, however, which was good.
Harry walked at his alpha's side out into the valley, where the moonlight streaked across the fur coats of their pack like firelight on water. A dozen cubs of varying sizes and colours chased each other across the grass, yipping and howling playfully, while the adults lay scattered around, content and lazy with their bellies full. A large, tawny coloured wolf was patrolling the group slowly, his ears pricked and tail alert. Harry knew somehow it was Echo, he felt it, just as he knew that the grey wolf laying on her own under the willow tree was Amoux and the darker male chasing the pups was Accalia. It was odd. He felt truly one with his senses like this, with the moon bathing his skin.
Slowly, he followed his alpha to the deserted circle where they usually ate and stopped when Greyback turned to face him, his skin tingling with anticipation. Those eyes were blazing blue, rimmed with gold and Harry forgot all about Voldemort and his quest, about everything and went down on his knees. Rolling onto his back, he turned his head to the side and let out a low whine – it was his mate's turn to reacquaint himself with his body now as a wolf under their first full moon joined together.
The silver wolf stood over him, his ears pricked with interest and his tail swaying from side to side. The beast regarding him closely for a few, long moments before he bowed his head, snuffling at his face and throat. A large, long tongue slid out, lapping at his face and neck, nipping slightly at the marked side of his throat until Harry arched it to give him an uninhibited view. He reached up, caressing that silky fur encouragingly. It wasn't a sexual confrontation between them now; it was a purely platonic embrace, another binding commemoration of their union.
That long tongue lapped down his chest, marking his taut abdomen with a line of spittle. With his lower half covered by his trousers, the marking was forced to move lower. Greyback licked his feet intently until Harry squirmed, rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up on his knees again, impatient and fidgety after the torturous tickling.
With a brief glance back to his mate, Harry flew to his feet and forward across the valley in a fluid motion, one with such speed and grace that it shocked him. His mate was pursuing him, the knowledge filled him with such feather-light bliss that he swore he was flying across the grass now, carried by the moon herself – that was, until an unfamiliar scent stopped him in his tracks.
Harry whirled around, his eyes searching the moonlit valley for the source, only to find the entrance to the labyrinth of caves nearby standing open. Humans, he could smell humans out in the world beyond their mountain. Just as his moon-heat inebriated mind registered what this meant, Greyback tore past him, howling in warning as he bolted into the caves and out of sight. There were intruders in their forest and the alpha was hunting them now. They would be killed!
That last thought sobered his moon-drunk mind, sent panic through him and he took a deep breath to steel himself against it, before shooting after Greyback. He pulled the gate shut with a crash on his way through. He paused only a brief moment to watch the vines begin to entangle their way across the grate and lock it shut, before bolting into the darkness. He didn't need Ghost to show him the way this time; he only had to follow the pull of the bond in the direction of Greyback.
The night air was sharp and fierce, striking him with warning ferocity as he flew out into the forest. The moon heat rushing through his veins made his frantic steps clumsy and noisy as he scrambled through the forest. The white light from above bathed him intermittently, reaching for him through the gaps in the canopy of trees above. Greyback was close by – he could feel him.
Suddenly, a chilling cry ripped through the air from just ahead. Harry shivered, his body hot with longing to find his mate for other purposes than his mind intended. His footfalls hastened as he struggled to hold onto his waning senses. Gasping for breath, he came skidding to a halt in a small clearing. It was illuminated by dancing firelight and filled with fireside mirth that died away into echoing silence the moment he broke into the glade.
"Hey, you alright kid?" a rough yet concerned voice called. The seven figures by the fire all rose to their feet but did not move from where they stood, evidently still wary of the semi-naked boy panting in the clearing. There were two men, two women and three children, the youngest of which only about four or so. The very subdued, rational part of Harry's mind knew they were muggleborns on the run, but his moon-induced stupor permitted only broken, hazy words to leave his lips.
"Not…safe…run… Run!"
The adults glanced at each other in concern, before looking back to him. "Here, son," the other man began gently, taking a few steps towards him. "Wolves don't come near the firelight and anyway we have magic to protect us." He spoke slowly, as if to a much younger child and if Harry had been coherent he might've realised how mad he looked running through the forest at night as he was.
Harry shook his head frantically, whining low in his throat with desperation and rising panic. His alpha was close, he could feel it. "No… run… He's coming!"
"Hey," the soothing voice of one of the women cooed through the eerie silence and she hastened towards him, gripping him carefully by the shoulders. "Goodness, this boy is burning up. Ray, baby?" she said, turning to one of the men, "He's not well – and so thin, get me a blanket for him?"
Harry shook his head even harder, trying to push her away. "No…he'll kill…kill you. Run!" he panted, but the woman held onto him brushing his sweaty hair from his forehead gently, not noticing his scar below the tangled mess.
"Ssshh," she tried to soothe him, before glancing back to her husband again. "He's delirious with the fever, help me bring him closer to the fire and–" Her words were cut short by a blood-chilling howl that trailed off into a venomous snarl. Every head in that clearing snapped to the side where a bear-sized silver wolf was emerging from the shadows, his eyes burning gold in the darkness. A constant, warning growl was emanating from his throat, his crisp white teeth bared and gleaming.
Harry looked at each of the terrified faces. The woman by the fire clasped all three children to her, the men stared at the beast, unsure of what to do and the woman who still had hold of Harry instinctively put herself between him and the wolf. It sent a spark of déjà vu somewhere deep down in Harry, something that made the overwhelming urge to protect these people completely desecrate any other instinct running through his veins.
Suddenly, one of the men made a sudden movement to bring his wife back to his side and it was enough to make Greyback start forward. Harry gave a shrill whine that cut through the clearing and stilled the big wolf in his attack. His gaping jaws were inches from the man that he had thrown to the floor.
Everyone else in the clearing froze too as Harry threw himself onto all fours, struggling out of his trousers and edging his way toward the wolf. The humans watched on in a mixture of horror and shock. "He won't hurt me," Harry managed out, his voice raspy, "but he'll kill you. Run. Save children! Go!" When Greyback growled uneasily again, Harry whined lower, sliding onto his belly in the grass and exposing his throat to those pearly white teeth.
After a moment, the wolf moved away from the fallen man, who shimmied back towards his family. Harry hummed, swaying slightly to keep the beast's focus on him as the humans started to move uncertainly towards the trees.
"We can't just leave him!" The woman who had been closest to Harry gasped, but her husband was pulling at her, dragging her after her children and the other couple while the beast was occupied with Harry.
"He's with it or something love, now come!" he hissed. The sound made Greyback restless and Harry let out a sharp yip this time to distract him, his mind still only partially focussed, instinct driving his actions more than anything else. When four paws came into his vision either side of his head, Harry rolled up slightly, brushing insistently against Greyback's side until he heard the wolf give a rumbling growl in response. The humans were gone but not out of danger. They were still close. Greyback's attention was solely on Harry now, with the moon gleaming down at them as if hungry for a show.
Just when relief began to ripple through him, he felt Greyback's interest pique. The heat that had been radiating from him suddenly intensified and hit Harry with such force that he rolled onto his back. When he stared up at the sky this time his view was shadowed by Greyback's massive body that now stood directly over him. Those legs caged him in and his muzzle lowered to his throat where Greyback sniffed enthusiastically. Harry turned his head to give him better access, but uneasiness spread through him as he did so. Something was different this time. He'd felt Greyback aroused in this form before when he nuzzled him but this time there was…more purpose. That long, thick tongue lapped at his throat decisively, sending little tingles through his pores like an electric current running from his head to his curling toes.
Above him, Greyback growled in that way that made his mind fog with bliss – he answered with a slow whine, but this time when he rolled his head a little further, he saw something that made him still. Greyback was erect. Harry's breath caught in fear.
Suddenly he was struggling. He let out a cry of distress and kicked out with his feet. He shoved hard at Greyback's chest and squirmed when the last of the material covering his body was shredded. He scrambled frantically for escape. Even completely out of it, even lost to his instincts and most deepest, darkest desires he knew he wasn't ready for this, didn't want it.
A snarl of displeasure cut through the clearing and a heavy paw pressed down on his back, hard enough to still him but not enough to hurt. A panicked growl left Harry then. Greyback leant down with a warning grumble, his fangs gripping the nape of Harry's neck just enough to make his every limb freeze. Harry's heart hammered hard against his ribcage, his breath coming out in frantic pants as he lay deathly still under the beast. It released his neck; it's hot tongue lapping down between his shoulder blades, then further down.
Harry gasped sharply when fangs and tongue caressed his spine and the small of his back with worrying softness, as if the creature was trying to soothe him. Greyback didn't like his fear or panic, Harry knew that, but when he was this aroused under the light of the moon Harry didn't think it would stop him. And the humans were still within scenting distance. What would become of them if he pushed his alpha away?
Harry winced. Even lost to his instincts he knew he didn't want this, he was still afraid and the wolf grumbled in frustration, shifting up to get into a worrying position…
"No!" Harry screamed, managing a human-sounding noise as he shoved hard at his alpha's chest. The wolf bore down on him, fangs worrying Harry's neck. Harry sank his nails hard into Greyback's chest, shame rushing through him until he swore it would choke him, even the wolf inside him howled.
It was exactly as Greyback had first said. The moon-heat and his instincts did not make him feel things he wouldn't do otherwise, only lessened his inhibitions, made him seize what he truly wanted. Even both combined could not eradicate his fear of what Greyback wanted him for. Harry had brought this all on himself, had lead the wolf on so that the humans could escape and now, with Greyback unable to comprehend the idea of half-hearted arousal…
He was aroused despite his disgust and as far as Greyback was concerned in this state, that meant he was willing.
Greyback growled again, impatient that he was not able to soothe the fear radiating from his mate. He nudged Harry's belly again until Harry moved. He was shoved onto his shoulders and chest, his arse high in the air. Harry gasped into his arms, his head spinning with conflicting sensations. The full moon's light was hot and overwhelming now, illuminating Harry's pale skin and the wolf's silver fur so that both glistened in the darkness. The entire scene was like that of an ethereal dream now but when the wolf shifted, his massive body completely covering Harry's, Harry gave a very real, human scream.
*****CENSORED. FOR FULL SCENE PLEASE FOLLOW ONE OF THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE***
Unyielding sunlight burned Harry's eyelids, making him squint as he was rudely awoken by it. Throbbing pain coursed through his innards, his belly, his arse and all down his thighs. Even his ribs ached. He groaned softly and his lashes fluttered, bringing a clearing filled with morning mist into view. Harry winced at the pain lancing through him and squirmed out from beneath the sweltering heat and weight covering him.
With a grunt he turned, balanced on his heels and saw the source of the heat that had been smothering him. Fenrir lay, quite human and naked, apparently undisturbed despite Harry having wriggled out from under him. His breath was low and even with sleep still and it took Harry a moment to realise why they were both beyond the protection of the mountain village. When it flooded back to him, he felt his aching insides tighten with revulsion.
Looking down at himself, he saw his torso, his sides and hips bruised and thighs painted with claw-marks. His insides felt battered and his arse burned. He reached back tentatively to touch his abused ring, nausea flooding through him as he felt a thick layer of dried semen between his cheeks and the backs of his thighs. He remembered then and his wide eyes fixed on Fenrir's sleeping form. He remembered the beast last night as it took him. He remembered its insatiable hunger but when he recalled his own pleasure and spied a splash of dried come on his belly that was unmistakeably his own, his body jerked forwards and he vomited bile up onto the grass.
What had he become?
With a long stretch, Fenrir's body tugged him awake. He rolled onto his back as he opened his eyes and stared up at the slowly clearing morning mist with the sun peaking through. The world was quiet around him and Fenrir inhaled deeply, his body ripe with the scent of him and his mate. A frown creased his brow however, when he sensed that the smell of his mate was not as fresh as it should have been.
Rising quickly, Fenrir glanced around to find himself alone in the glade. Only the smell of Harry's dried blood and lubrication on his body betrayed the fact that he'd been here at all. Fenrir blinked once, twice as he dragged back the memory of the night before. He'd taken Harry as a wolf and though he remembered smelling arousal, he'd smelt fear as well.
"Shit," he cursed, stumbling to his feet. If he knew Harry, his reaction to recalling last night would not be good. Inhaling the air, he smelt Harry's scent on a passing breeze. He had gotten quite far while he had slept – he had to find him. No sooner had his muscles bunched to move, however than a handful of bodies crashed into the clearing from downwind.
"Alpha!" Echo declared, Marrok and three others alongside him, all panting heavily, all as naked as the day they were born. "Weylyn, he left the gate open last night – Harry shut it after he followed you to stop the rest of us but we could smell the humans and…" He lost his voice here, staring from Fenrir to the clearing, as if the evidence of what happened last night were visible on the grass. "Alpha, you know what this means for Harry," he said, his voice low and cautious, filled with apprehension.
Fenrir growled in frustration, his hands clenching into fists. Just as he felt as if he was making ground with Harry. He'd never lost control so spectacularly before, why now? Why with Harry?! He gritted his teeth, grinding them tightly together until his gums throbbed with pain. Harry was his mate, that was why. All the rules didn't apply. All the usual instincts, every pull of his desires were increased tenfold with him to the point where nothing made sense anymore.
"You smelt him last night, Echo," Fenrir murmured darkly, "he was terrified and I was too turned on by his display to save the humans to pay any attention to it." He snarled through clenched teeth. He'd thought he'd had more control over himself than this. He'd told Harry that Harry would be able to refuse him. Under any other circumstances he was sure that was true – but he hadn't anticipated Harry leading him on to save the humans. Once his passions had been stirred, he'd been unable to beat them back. Harry had sacrificed his own wishes to save the humans. All because of Weylyn.
I'll kill him, he thought.
"He reeks of loathing and self-disgust right now. It's as potent as smoke. He didn't want me to take him as wolf – the idea was repugnant to him!"
Echo glanced to Marrok, seeing the omega's face furrowed with concern. He had a soft spot for Harry, it was widely known and the large black man inhaled deeply before chancing speech. "Alpha, it's more serious than that – the significance of your mating with him last night under the light of the full moon…" He licked his dry lips as he met the Fenrir's eyes. "You can already smell it on his scent. It's a slight change but it's there. He's breeding."
Fenrir stopped and his head jerked up to the sky where the sun was slowly rising, as if the invisible moon could answer his plight. Harry would be furious – no worse he would…
"I'll never want to carry anything of yours inside me…"
"I'll kill whatever spawn you put in me the second your back is turned!"
Oh no.
"I have to get to him. You find Weylyn, I'll kill the bastard for this," Fenrir snarled. The image of crunching the traitor's neck under his fangs chased back his temper a fraction – just enough to give him control again. He could feel the rage emanating from his body like heat from a fire. But he needed to find Harry before he did something unforgiveable.
"Alpha, there are strangers in our forest," Echo said quickly as if he knew any moment he would take off in the direct of his mate's misery. "Werewolves not of the pack – rogues, Alpha, and lots of them."
Fenrir stared at him, sniffing the air, frustrated. He needed to get to Harry, not waste time with these disrespectful mongrels! He had sensed something on the air beyond Harry, right at the very edge of the forest but his focus had been on his mate over anything else. Another thing that only Harry could do; blind him to potential danger. The boy filled his every thought and sensation until there was nothing else left. Was that what being mated was supposed to be like? Or was it just the boy? Did he have some hidden ability to drive those around him mad with the need to care for him?
He didn't have the time to ponder that now. Harry was downwind of the invaders now but if they caught a whiff of him – an unprotected breeding sub…
"The den will be safe – rogues cannot get in without one of us. Are there others out here with you?" Fenrir asked, his voice brisk and sharp.
Echo nodded. "Six more are close behind, Alpha. When we said that we were heading out to find you both no one wanted to stay behind." Echo smiled, an oddly soothing expression in the chaos that was rapidly unfolding. "The pack is not short of those who care for you, Alpha, or for Harry. They adore him." A treasure of the pack, as all those who carried the recessive gene were meant to be – precious.
"As they should," Fenrir grunted, glancing towards the direction he could smell Harry in. Had he already done the unthinkable? He could not smell any blood but…
"Get the other six and head the rogues off if you can. Don't fight, just occupy them until I can get Harry back to the den. He…he can't be alone right now," he muttered, not wanting to betray what he suspected they already knew. His mate would be less than happy if he realised what their mating under the full moon meant. With any luck, he would have forgotten in the rush of events as Fenrir had.
"I told you, I'd never allow anything of yours to grow inside me."
Suddenly, Fenrir felt a cold nudge against his curled fist and glanced down to see Ghost butting his fingers, staring up at him as if asking him where Harry was. "We'll find him," Fenrir said, before looking to his second in command once more. "Get the others, keep the intruders busy. I think I know what they want and I don't want them to see Harry, not so soon after last night." He didn't think Harry would be able to bear being swamped with the smell of raging dominant pheromones, especially so soon after the full moon. Emotions were still running high.
Echo nodded once and before he and the others had finished turning to do his bidding, Fenrir had spun on his heel and lurched forward, his body morphing into his wolf's shape as he ran. Ghost stayed close at his side, keeping up with him as he sped into the trees, following Harry's distress. Harry was quite a way away, but not yet out of reach of him – there was no danger from the Dark Lord yet.
The wind rushed through his fur. It stung his eyes, carrying great waves of his mate's suffering to him until he was forced to hold his breath rather than inhale another whiff of it. He couldn't bear it, it was rendering him into a pathetic mess, a pup who couldn't see anything else, couldn't control himself. He never had any control when it came to Harry, he should've realised that. What happened between them last night was pleasurable for him, natural to him even, but the fact that it was the one thing that terrified Harry most made bile rise in his throat. He'd hurt his mate, raped his mate, no matter how he looked at it.
He, the most revered werewolf in the country had fallen prey to his own instincts and perhaps ruined everything. He grit his teeth tightly, his fangs biting into his gums and he snarled in fury at himself, at the situation. If Harry had understood, had had chance to accept their ways and wanted what had happened last night, wanted the cub that now grew inside him it would be different. Why couldn't they be different?
Why is everything so fucked?! He roared as he sped through the trees, approaching downwind so as not to scare off his mate before he even got there. He did not expect Harry's reaction to the sight of him after last night to be anything but bad – he only hoped it was not too late to repair that. He grunted. He would repair it. From the second he'd mated with the boy he'd known he would do anything to win him, utterly, completely. He would fix this mess he'd made by losing control of himself. He only hoped it was in time to save the unborn life growing in the boy's belly.
"I'll kill whatever spawn you put in me the second your back is turned!"
The words haunted him as he flew through the forest. He'd mocked the very words originally, but after all that had happened, would Harry really be capable of such a thing? Had he betrayed his mate so badly? His bones themselves ached at the notion. He'd shamed his kind, acted exactly as the rogues he so despised would have acted. Far from filling him with pride as the notion of filling his mate's belly successfully on the first night should have done, he felt quite sick.
He was no better than the bastards that would have shared Harry around despite his wishes. He was not fit to be alpha, or to have the honour of being mated to one such as Harry. Luckily, he was both stubborn and selfish enough that neither slowed his steps. He would not wallow in pity and shame. He would bite it back with ravenous fangs, he would rise above it and earn his place as alpha, as alpha mate once more. He wouldn't just roll over and accept defeat and shame like a sad little dog. He had more honour than that, more pride.
Running still, he felt himself growing nearer. Harry was in one place, hadn't sensed him yet. Ghost had managed to keep up. They were both flying through the trees, towards the sound of rushing water, towards the waterfall he and Harry had visited before. Only this time they were approaching it from the other side, running up hill to the waterfall's top. Fenrir ran faster as he realised this. It was not a good sign.
Whatever happened, he would do what was necessary by both his pack and his mate; it wasn't in him to be mawkish or self-pitying. Even when his parents had died it hadn't. He always dealt with misery and misfortune by clenching his teeth and pushing through, coming out the other side bloodied and wounded but stronger than before.
~To Be Continued...