He shifted, staying small at first as he slithered along the ground, keeping low, moving, stopping, moving, and then stopping again. He knew his men were next to him. They were spread out, but they were still there. Ezekiel didn’t need to look their way to see them.
Eye on the prize. Eye on the prize. The alphas were right there. Some were drunk on their own moonshine, which was perfect because that would only make it so much easier for him to sneak up on them. He would destroy them. He would shatter their bones and make sure they were never fit to run another pack again, whether it was as a group, or individually, they were finished.
Almost there. He was almost there.
He stopped one more time. He wasn’t a camoflouge dragon, so it was lucky that the dull, colourless landscape kind of went along with his natural dragon colouring. All the same, even with the wind in his favor, it was a small miracle that no one had seen him yet.
He could spring right now, take out that one alpha who was laughing obnoxiously and slapping the back of his comrade.
Ezekiel wasn’t sure why, but he definitely had his sights set on that man right there, and he wanted to kill him. He wanted to sink his teeth into that fat, sweaty neck and crunch down until he tasted blood and until he felt no more movement, no more pulse, no more life.
He bunched up his elbows, his claws sinking into the ground, ready to spring, ready, almost—
He stopped. He had to. An omega stepped forward, into the group of three alphas, and right in front of the one Ezekial had been wanting to kill. He held out a new glass mug for the alpha to take.
He did take it, right before guzzling down everything in the glass, and with a happy, drunken laugh, smashed the glass onto the hard earth before smacking him hard on the back of the head, his voice a loud, happy bomb.
“Clean that up!”
Omegas were easy to tell apart from Alphas and betas in the shifter community. They usually had some physical traits of their animal selves to give away what they were.
Dogs ears and tails, cat ears and tails, or the occasional scales on their faces if they were dragons. Sometimes the eyes would be more animalistic, too.
This omega had his ears pointed down, and his tail quivering, as if he was struggling to keep it from settling neatly between his legs where it really wanted to go.
It was the sight of him that had Ezekiel stopping. There was a crate in the way, so he couldn’t see the omega as he bend down to pick up the mess that had been made, and he waited, desperate, breath held.
He could feel the eyes of his friends on him, staring, glaring, worried, and angry.
He was putting them in danger now that he wasn’t moving, now that he was stalling the attack, but Ezekiel couldn’t move. His bones and muscles had no strength within him to do anything. Not until he saw the omega again.
It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake. His eyes had played tricks on him. That was the only explanation for it. That was not Skylar.
It was impossible. Skylar was dead.
The omega stood up again, bare hands filled with thick pieces of glass, ears still down. He was hesitant to look the alpha in the eyes.
And Ezekiel thought his heart was going to explode in his chest. The pendant he wore beneath his clothes, and now his scales, burned against his body.
That…that had to be someone who just looked like him. That couldn’t be Skylar. He was dead. Ezekiel had seen all the blood. He’d smelled it. There had been so much of it.
But there had been so much blood everywhere.
Sky’s pack, wiped out, the alpha dead, a clear take over by a rival pack for omegas and resources, they’d killed all of the alphas, most of the betas, and a good number of omegas.
Sky’s body hadn’t been recovered, and for a time, Ezekiel had hoped against hope, and he’d searched and hunted, desperate to find that pack and free his mate, to free everyone who had been taken.
He’d been on the right trail, until he’d come across the dumping ground. Bodies piled up, burned, teeth removed, it had been…unsettling, and Ezekiel knew in that moment that if Sky had survived the take over, he wouldn’t have survived it when the rival pack chose to lose the dragon hunting them by killing their spoils.
He would have to be dead.
The authorities agreed, and it had taken months before Ezekiel could get out of bed, and more more of therapy before Ezekiel could let himself admit that his mate really was dead, and that it wasn’t his fault.
He hadn’t believed it, and the therapist had known he didn’t believe it. Ezekiel just assumed the man had decided he could do no more for Ezekiel’s pain.
Now Sky was right there. He was in this pack. He was alive.
“I love you so fucking much it hurts,” Ezekiel said with a rasp, leaning in and giving his mate even more stimulation by briefly putting his mouth against his mate’s nipples. One at a time, he sucked on them, switching between them, and knowing he was doing a good job of teasing his lover as Skylar put his hands on Ezekiel’s head. He couldn’t grab at Ezekiel’s hair like he used to because it was too short. Ezekiel made a mental note to grow it back out again when given the chance.
“F-feels good,” Sky moaned.
Which was exactly what Ezekiel wanted to hear.
He couldn’t hold the position for very long, forcing him to pull back, but he didn’t simply want to separate his body from Sky’s, so he pressed his mouth to warm skin, licking occasionally and tasting the salt of him, tasting Skylar’s unique flavor, and every time his tongue made contact, he felt the pulsing of Skylar’s heart increase, and the heavy scent of musk increasing in the air.
He was getting high from the smell of it, from the sensation of sex that was all around him.
More. More. More.
He’d only been fantasizing about what it would be like if he got one more night with his mate for four years, so why the hell should he hold back now?
Ezekiel moved down, his mouth finding the head of Sky’s cock, and he couldn’t resist. He licked it, his tongue lapping up the drop of pre-cum that had formed there, and the taste was somewhat salty, like his skin, but on another level.
He wanted more of it, and Ezekiel wet his lips before putting them around the bulbous head of Skylar’s dick.
Skylar’s spine bowed right off the bed. Ezekiel quickly put his hand to the man’s stomach, keeping him from making another move, from flying right off the sheets. He needed his mate to keep his position.
“Oh my God. Oh God!” Skylar called out. Ezekiel glanced up very briefly to see what he was doing, and he couldn’t help but smile around the mouthful he had as he watched Sky’s hands come up and fist his own hair. He panted for breath, small chest rising and falling from the pleasure he was trying to contain.
Ezekiel didn’t get much of a warning when it hit, but he sensed it coming, and he didn’t pull back as Skylar’s body tensed, and he clenched his eyes tightly shut as a rush of warmth flooded Ezekiel’s mouth.
He took it all in. Ezekiel swallowed hard, knowing the motions of his mouth, lips and tongue were just going to bring him even more pleasure, making the buzz last longer.
But even before Ezekiel could finish what he was doing, Skylar’s voice cried out, his body tensing again, as if he was desperate to get away.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Ezekiel pulled back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he looked at his mate, noted the panic in his eyes as Sky looked down at him, and though he couldn’t understand why Skylar would be sorry for coming a little soon when he was with Ezekiel, it was another thing he decided was best to not question.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“I shouldn’t have—”
“Yes, you should have,” Ezekiel smiled, his hand sliding up and down the length of Skylar’s thigh. “Trust me, I happened to like that an awful lot.”
Skylar blinked, his chest still rising and falling as if he was in the middle of having a small panic attack, though the suddenness of it seemed to slow just just a little bit, turning into less panic, and more into something that was expected after an orgasm.
“Are you sure?” His wolf ears started to slowly rise up, getting back into the points that Ezekiel loved so much.
“Very sure.” Ezekiel accented this by kissing the tip of Skylar’s dick, then licking the underside of the head.
Skylar had a nice habit of not going totally soft after an orgasm. Sometimes he would stay hard, other times, only half hard, but it was more than enough to encourage Ezekiel to keep going.
Even omegas could have excellent sex drives.
“I want you to do that again, as many times as you want. Trust me, I’m as much here for me as for you, but I need you to feel good if I’m going to feel good. Make sense?”
Skylar’s tail, which had been limp and lifeless since Ezekiel had first seen him in that pack, suddenly started a soft thump against the bed sheets, and Ezekiel loved that tail. He loved how it, and Skylar’s ears, could act as an emotional compass and never fail to point him in the right direction.
“Come up here.”
Ezekiel took his mate by the shoulders, and he gently lifted him up as Ezekiel sat, crosslegged, and he helped his mate to sit into his lap, right where he belonged.
“This is all for you. Don’t forget that.”
“You, too,” Skylar said. “It doesn’t feel right if I’m just taking from you.”
Once again, Ezekiel got the feeling there was more to what his mate was saying than what was on the surface. So he nodded, he didn’t question it. “Fair enough. What do you want to do?”
More blushing, but the determination in those gorgeous honey brown eyes was apparent, and Ezekiel loved it. He was made excited by it, and he needed to see more of it.
Skylar reached for the bottle of lotion. He opened it, poured a big glob into his hand, and looked at Ezekiel with that same eager, careful expression on his face as he curled his hand around Ezekiel’s dick, cold cream and all.