For your sins against all of Gaea’s children, we cast you out unto this forsaken land forever, and in penance for your transgressions may you become the beasts you are inside for all eternity, saved only upon the pity of the Fates.
The dreams were always vivid when they came to Theron.
They were always the same, always in that vivid clarity as he experienced, and always did it fill him with the same sense of anger and bitterness as they first did all those years ago.
Arcane symbols and sigils floated down from the heavens, searing themselves with supernatural light into all corners of his island home. Theron watched as the men around him retreated to their meager dwellings, attempting to flee the far-reaching curse of the witches and warlocks who floated overhead. In their impenetrable, untouchable circle, no volley of arrows or flinging of catapult fire could reach them. Blessed by the gods and goddesses themselves, they would stop at nothing until Theron’s people were adequately debased and punished.
Theron remembered crying out into the heavens, seeking forgiveness for the transgressions of his people, nomads and warriors borne of monstrous, bloodthirsty, mercenary men. But the witches did not, would not, listen. Instead, each sigil summoned struck down like meteors from the heavens, searing not just into their island but into their skin.
Was it their fault for being the kin of a murderer? Theron pondered, yet he received no answer.
The chanting continued, echoing into the night.
Forsaken children, locked forever in your land, only with the bond of a child of Gaea can you learn to transcend the horror of your kin.
That was the first night Theron remembered his body ached, twisting and snapping when he shifted, until he could remember howling into the night sky. It had never been that way before. He’d always been either fully wolf, or fully man, and nowhere in between. His face elongated into a muzzle and his body shifted until he was wholly beast, and yet he retained his human faculties. Lykaios, an unfamiliar voice echoed into his head, as his body turned into the form of the beast. Fear not for your people.
He remembered falling down to the ground as his body twisted and changed, all as he tried to fight the beast rising up inside him. In his mind he saw an ever-spinning wheel, handled only by three cloaked figures seated and turned away from him. One spun a thread, the other measured the thread being spun, while the last of them snipped at another thread, all in a continuous manner. When the time comes, your people shall be saved from this curse.
But how? Theron asked, and he didn’t know, but he could feel a soft smile emanating from the three cloaked figures as they continued to do what they did.
Once you find your soul’s other piece, then no longer be you the beast.
It was always at this point, night after night, that Theron would wake up.
Tonight was different, however.
Theron saw himself walking into the darkness. Each step echoed in his head, each clack of his heel against the stone floor filling him with a sense of peace. After a few steps, he entered a strange cavern. In the middle sat the three cloaked figures, continuously spinning their threads.
It was the Fates.
Welcome, Lykaios. The voice echoed in his head just as the cavern shone bright, and suddenly millions of gems like the stars in the cosmos began to glimmer brightly in the cavern around them. In fact, it seemed as though the entire universe spanned the expanse of the large cavern he was in. All around him, millions and millions of little stars glimmered in different colors, shining their own light in the darkness. As has been prophesized, you will now receive absolution.
Theron’s eyes widened as he saw the hand of one of the Fates move. Twisting herself until her cloaked visage faced Theron, she pointed a finger at him.
The tides of time have ebbed away at the anger in your heart. Gaea is no longer the same being as it once was, thousands of years ago. You have accepted your fate. It is time we now do our part.
Your people will suffer no longer. Find your mates, lykaia, and break your curse. We shall help you.
“Why do you keep a cup of olive oil beside your bed?” Rylan asked, an eyebrow raised and his tone filled with good-humored curiosity, even if it were just the barest hint of a squeak. Theron stopped his actions for a moment, pulling away from kissing Rylan’s bottom lip and gently touching his sides to peer up at his naked lover.
“If I were being truthful, it would be because it feels good during nights when I need to pleasure myself in lieu of finding company,” Theron whispered. “But I’m also glad for it because it will make it easier on the two of us, if you will let me use it.”
“Let you? I insist that you use it,” Rylan said just as he bit down on his lower lip. The glint in his eyes was enough of a signal for Theron to know he could proceed with touching and loving on the human. “I want you inside. Now,” Rylan demanded, his eyes glinting in mischief.
“Let it be known that I would never say no to a willing lover,” Theron growled just as he picked up the wide-rimmed cup from the side, taking a glob of oil and immediately slicking his shaft, which stood even prouder and even glistened as it twitched in need and arousal. Theron’s face broke into something altogether different after a moment. Turning to look up at Rylan, he gently bit down on his lower lip.
“What?” the human asked, peering up into Theron’s eyes.
“It is just that I have never taken a lover in that way before,” Theron admitted softly. “In my time, to do this with a man meant to dishonor his manhood. Times have changed, and with my inexperience, I do not want to hurt you.”
Smirking and immediately placing a hand on his forehead as he muttered, Rylan shook his head and stifled a chuckle before looking once more into Theron’s eyes.
“For the record, times really have changed. It’s not at all demeaning to have it done. Some men even prefer it. Also, you’re not going to hurt me if you use a lot of oil and make sure you go slow at first. Think you can do that?”
Theron nodded slowly. Despite the niggling sense that in this particular example, he was the student and definitely not the teacher, he didn’t at all mind. His wolf was placated by the knowledge that he wouldn’t be hurting his mate.
Rylan took in a deep breath. He lay back against the bed, staring up into Theron’s glimmering eyes as he readied himself, and at the same time, Rylan spread his legs and pressed his lower body against his lover’s pelvis. The merest touch of their skin sent sparks flying inside Theron, synapses firing in every direction in conjunction with his wolf clawing at him to take Rylan.
The man, after all, was his.
In that moment, when Theron’s oil-slicked shaft pressed against Rylan’s hole, it seemed as though all time ceased and the only things that continued to exist were the two of them. A slow, gentle slide as Theron’s cock pushed deeper and deeper, as if trying to show Rylan just how large he truly was that he even needed to pour a little bit more of the oil on his shaft until he was fully hilted inside Theron’s ass. Despite a moment of protest within him in treating Rylan this way, he realized as his lover’s body enveloped him that it was a closeness he needed and yearned for, and Rylan was enjoying it too.
Perhaps he was one of those men who preferred this, just as Rylan said.
Slowly, steadily, Theron’s hips smacked faster and faster, like an engine beginning to rev into life. Within moments the slick slide of Theron’s cock turned into a resounding cacophony of smacks, skin slapping against skin. He didn’t know exactly how much he needed to be with Rylan, but Theron knew from the way his wolf wanted to howl in ecstasy that this was exactly where he needed to be. Each stroke was hard and fast, rough in the way it pummeled Rylan’s body like a piston, but it made Rylan whimper, grabbing onto Theron’s shoulders for support as his legs splayed wide on either side of them.
Perhaps the human liked the twinge of pain, or perhaps it was just because Theron knew to change his strokes enough to try and find the best way to love on his mate. He splayed Rylan’s legs outward to wrap around his waist while Theron’s slippery, oil-slicked fingers wrapped around the human’s cock, pumping furiously. The sounds of slick skin against skin filled the air, emphasizing each one of Rylan’s moans.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Rylan whimpered, almost as though he was mewling. He dragged his nude body against the soft, smooth covers, sliding and arching his body forward to half thrust his leaking shaft into Theron’s fist.
Theron’s face was a myriad of different emotions. From the way his eyebrows were furrowed, to the slight parting of his lips and the way he moaned, it was clear that he was completely enveloped in the sensations surrounding him. He didn’t know pleasure could exist like this, but then again, he’d never even thought Rylan would be open to him in this way.
Rylan’s face was flushed. It took Theron a moment to realize the human was moving his hips, gently rocking his pelvis to push and pull Theron along as well, noting his own pleasure at being taken in this way. Rylan even cooed at Theron’s touch, pressing his hips upward and pushing his shaft into Theron’s touch. It surprised the wolf shifter to have someone so active even while being the recipient, but then again, he knew to trust his lover rather than make any wrong assumptions.
Sinking his flesh as deep as it could go, every moment spent entangled in Rylan’s arms was a small piece of nirvana, and Theron didn’t want to let go. His inner wolf scratched at him, trying to push itself toward the surface. It was enough so that he started to growl, stifling himself only by pushing his face into the crook of Rylan’s neck as he pumped.
In and out, in and out—faster and faster—the steady smack of Theron’s hips against Rylan’s body rang throughout the room.