Wild eyes. He possesses wild eyes when they kiss my flesh. No, I was not a want rather a pure need. Only I can melt the ice he holds, only I can sate his raw hunger, only I can quench his parched throat… his undying thirst.
His wolf lingers in the background tongue hanging out whilst he pants with thirst. Not for water. But
for me. He salivates drool dripping down his chin. He starves not for raw flesh. But for me. He wants to gobble me up in one bite.
The heat of their eyes burn my flesh and I slide my fingertips across my skin trying to cool it down. His seduction one cannot have power over, especially me. My mouth open I take deep breaths trying to calm my beating heart.
Sweat makes its slow burning path down my chest and his eyes follow its torturous movement downward. A cruel path for him for it taunts him. I am merely an artefact he can see and fantasize over but never to touch and have. His fingers itch and he clenches his palms into trembling fists. His control is slipping away, his title ‘the master of control’ stripped.
I am torturing Deimos. Every little action of mine seduces him the mate bond tying our ropes together as one trying to push one onto the other. A sick game of seduction it feels content playing. The stronger one shall stand the weak shall fall and put under its spell.
I continue with my training by Cronus’s side. The females woo over the male carrying weights bare of his shirt. His muscled pecks that dance to his exertion. They drool over Cronus. He pays no attention to their looks focusing on his morning exercise. He has stayed with us for a few days as promised and I cannot be happier.
I pant at his side pushing my body to the brink for it has grown weak after birthing. It has become tired and I cannot afford it to be frail and fragile. I need to become stronger as I was before so I can protect my male and perhaps even protect myself when needed.
Whilst the females of my pack gape at Cronus the males who arrived with him turn their eyes to me. Some with curiosity and others with… want. Some of their eyes linger on my breasts whilst others on my lips.
I meet the eyes of one peculiar wolf for his gaze is the strongest of all one that hasn’t wavered for even a second. Perhaps a warrior with his painted skin he stares without shame his want on open display for all to see. No fear that Deimos might be able to smell him. He only wants to meet with my eyes. He wishes to see if I feel the same for him.
I had been ignoring his gaze for Deimos’s was what captured and bounded me. But this male has guts I can give him that. He is not afraid to show his hunger towards me. The feelings that I struck him with as soon as he stepped on my land.
Allowing an annoyed sigh to pass my lips I jump higher above the low height of the jump rope. The warrior’s eyes immediately move to my chest and he licks his teeth. He likes it, the bounce of it. It crawls on its knees entrapping the warrior.
I do not understand, there is no male out there who does not fear Deimos, yet this male challenges his authority. Curiosity pools within me scanning his being swiftly I wonder how strong he is? Throwing the jump rope on the floor I grab the towel wiping my sweat dyed skin.
Is he perhaps stronger than Deimos? There is a possibility for this male is bigger than him. Warriors are trained differently, I wonder if he would win if he sparred with Deimos. He could, he might be able to.
Gulping down the water I look towards Cronus who keeps up with his training as if it does not tire him. His eyes are unfocused and empty perhaps he has a lot in his mind. I wonder what he is thinking about? Would he want to talk to me about it? He still hasn’t found his mate it must be getting harder to carry the weight of his pack by himself.
“Cron-” I begin to call his name to acquire his attention.
A female’s scream tears through the chatter and the wolves scatter startled as prey about to be killed. Cronus stops swiftly eyes quickly sweeping the area inspecting for a potential threat. I search with him trying to find the source. Fights are always bound to happen in a pack, misunderstandings and conflicts are an often cup of tea for us.
Frowning only to find nothing out of place, the sea of wolves forming a circle around the fight covers my view. I squint my eyes further trying to get a comprehensible picture. Wolves push at each other some quickly making way and my path clears.
I gasp to find a predictable situation yet one I hadn’t expected. It was not a big deal for me to expect this. Deimos straddles the warrior his claws plunged into his throat tearing through flesh instilled deep. His claws are teasing the warrior’s insides. A sign he could kill if he wished but is showing mercy.
Deimos’s eyes are on fire and they burn up in flames. His teeth bared he snarls to the warrior. Alpha pheromones ooze out Deimos’s pores to saturate the air and it chokes the warrior under him. A lower wolf cannot overpower the pheromones of an Alpha. Only submit.
“Look at my female, again. Thirst over her again. I will castrate you. Do you understand me?” Deimos roars, his wolf peeking from behind the curtain. Not intervening merely supporting.
Cronus’s warrior bares his fangs and this further irks Deimos. This warrior has a death wish. The females around me cough and choke holding their throats. Some with tears in their eyes are pushed to kneel for Deimos’s pheromones is growing powerful. His rage swipes the area by storm. A thundering storm that flashes from within his eyes and he unleashes its power.
Deimos thrusts his hand into the warrior’s mouth twisting the fang that was bared to him. He twists it whilst the warrior barks and gags in torment yet his hands though free are bound to the floor. His entire body is sewn to the ground and he is tied. That is what Deimos’s pheromones can do, it makes you immobile. I knew he had this power yet I never saw him use it. He did not wish for any wolf to go through this. It is quite fearful to be the sole aim of its spell.
The warrior’s nails dig into the muddy ground as he tries to bear the pain inflicted on him. He looks as though he is about to pass out and so are the wolves gathered except Cronus and me. Deimos’s gushing pheromones envelopes us in a cloud of utmost submission. Wolves knees grow week and they fall to the ground head bowed whimpering and whining. The elders struggle to breathe as his wrath is set free.