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Caleb loved challenging Sylus.

And Sylus, gods help you, indulged him.

Caleb barreled into him without warning, slamming Sylus straight into a snowdrift outside the den entrance. Both of them vanished in an eruption of white powder, a blur of limbs, snarling and growling. Every sound scraped against your nerves.

This was fun for them. You knew that.

You still hated every second of it.

Caleb was strong, strong even for a hybrid, but he was still half-human. And probably the only “pup” in the entire pack reckless enough to challenge the Alpha like this.

Sylus was bigger, stronger, and, most dangerously, had a far tighter grip on his instincts than Caleb did.

They rolled again, and then Sylus had Caleb pinned. An arm locked around his throat, the other wrenching Caleb’s wrist behind his back.

“Say you yield,” Sylus said.

Caleb wheezed out, “Nev—!”

His defiance cut off in a high, startled yelp of pain.

Your heart lurched.

“Both of you, stop!” you said.

You didn’t like how physical these fights were getting. Every morning brought a new injury between them, another bruise, another scratch, another reason for you to worry yourself sick.

Sylus hooked a hand around Caleb’s throat and hauled him upright, brushing the snow off him with one broad swipe. Then he flicked Caleb’s ear, chastising.

“He’s fine,” Zayne said as he came to stand at your side, his hands shoved into the pockets of a coat that looked far too light for the weather. At least he was wearing one; Sylus and Caleb were out in the snow bare-chested and unshifted. “You’d know if it was a real fight,” he added.

Ahead of you, Sylus and Caleb were already shaking snow out of their hair like dogs.

You frowned. “How would I know?”

“For one,” Zayne said. “Caleb wouldn’t be getting back up.”

Your frown deepened.

The two of them trudged toward you, but when Caleb got close enough for you to see his arm, you gasped. Twin fang marks marred his bicep, deep, ugly punctures with thick, dark streaks sliding down his skin.

You stepped forward fast. “Is that—did he bite you?”

Sylus didn’t even look guilty.

You grabbed Caleb’s arm, inspecting the wound. Sylus’s teeth had gone straight into the muscle. Bruising was already blooming around the bite, purpling beneath his skin.

Your head snapped toward Sylus. “Sylus, what is wrong with you?” you asked. “You bit him? Are you out of your mind?”

Sylus folded his arms and huffed. “I gave him a warning nip. It looks worse than it is.”

You lifted Caleb’s swelling arm higher for him to see. “Does this look like a nip to you?”

Zayne stepped in and angled Caleb’s arm gently, examining the bite. “…That’s quite deep,” he said. 

Caleb flexed his fingers, wincing.

“You will not do that again,” you said to Sylus. “Do you hear me? I’m sick of you two drawing blood in some stupid display of dominance.”

“I can handle myself, you know,” Caleb said, rolling his shoulders. “I’m not some pup you have to baby.”

Before you could answer, Caleb dropped into a loose fighting stance, fists swinging, every punch deliberately pulled, stopping just short of contact in front of your face.

“I’m strong and fast, see?” he said, dodging an imaginary attack.

You raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Why are you two all riled up? I thought wolves got calmer in the winter. You’re supposed to conserve energy when it’s cold.”

“Well, it’s to be expected,” Zayne said. “The alphas are probably gearing up for their wintertime ruts. Pack dynamics shift this time of year.”

“Wintertime ruts?” Your voice carried an uneasy edge as you glanced at Sylus. His ears flattened slightly at the term.

“You didn’t tell her?” Zayne asked. “Lycanborn alphas have seasonal ruts,” he continued, eyes flicking between you and Sylus. “One in late spring or early summer, the other in deep winter. Alpha males enter these cycles to assert control over the pack, maintain hierarchy, and prepare for environmental stressors.”

Your stomach dropped. Was the last time Sylus went into rut really two seasons ago? It felt like just yesterday you’d fully recovered from your injuries. You hadn’t even considered the possibility of him going through it again. In hindsight, of course, that was naive. Of course Sylus would have another rut.

You took a tentative step back.

“I didn’t tell her,” Sylus said lowly. “Because she has nothing to worry about.” His red eyes softened as they found your paling face. “You won’t have to endure it. I’ll handle it on my own.”

“You intend to face your rut alone? Now, as a bonded mate?” Zayne asked.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Sylus replied.

“Alphas who are mated don’t endure ruts in isolation,” Zayne said, voice tight with concern. “That’s not how bonding works.”

“What, he can’t rub one out on his own?” Caleb asked. “Why does my sister need to be involved?” 

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Zayne said cooly. “When you have your first this winter.”

Caleb scoffed. “What the hell are you talking about? Only alphas lose their damn minds during rut season. That shit’s gross.”

“Well,” Zayne said, “As an alpha, I suspect that now you’re fully turned, you’ll be cycling along with the rest of them whether you like it or not.”

Caleb paled, eyes widening. “What…?”

“Caleb’s an alpha?” you asked. “How can that be possible? He’s—he’s not even full-blooded…”

“Yes, while it’s uncommon for hybrids to show alpha traits, consider the facts,” Zayne said. “He’s larger than me, almost as big as Sylus. Reckless, yes, but confident enough to challenge a full-blooded alpha. That’s not normal. A regular hybrid would have pissed their pants long before thinking about challenging their pack’s Alpha.”

Caleb’s grin spread, a mix of pride and disbelief. “You really think I’m bigger than you, Z?” He bounced on the balls of his feet, feinting playful jabs left and right.

One swing barely missed Zayne’s face, and Zayne let out a short, involuntary growl.

“Typical alpha pup behavior,” Zayne said. “Body fully grown. Mind? Not so much.”

“Will he be okay?” you asked, voice tight. “No one’s going to get hurt, right? …During rut season?”

“What happened before was an extreme, highly abnormal situation,” Zayne said. “Alpha ruts are intense by nature, yes, but they should never coincide with life-threatening stressors. They should take place safely in the den, within the nest, so the body can manage the hormonal cycle properly.”

“And a bonded alpha’s rut is designed to be experienced with a mate,” Zayne continued evenly. “Without that connection, the stress hormones can overwhelm the system. Attempting it alone is both physically exhausting and psychologically destabilizing. Especially the first time.”

A low rumble started vibrating from Sylus’s chest. “I already told you. I intend to handle it alone.”

Zayne turned to you. “I would advise you to convince your mate otherwise—”

Sylus’s growl cut the air. He planted himself squarely between you and Zayne. “Do not go around me to reach my mate,” he snarled, fangs flashing. “I made myself clear. Push again, and I will put you on the ground so fast you—”

“Sylus!” Your hand shot out, closing around his arm. “Do not speak to Zayne that way!”

The low rumble that had filled the entrance of the den ceased the instant your hand touched him.

Sylus’s glowing red eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, uncertainty flickered across his face before he stepped back.

“See?” Zayne said, nodding slightly. “You’re already in pre-rut. Brew some valerian root, drink it, and eat something with protein. Go lie down. Your cortisol is spiking. If you stay out here, you’re going to end up in a real fight.”

Sylus slumped against the wall, a resigned groan escaping him.

Zayne turned to Caleb. “And you too.”

“What!” Caleb asked. “What did I do?”

·𖥸·

Sylus’s nest smelled like smoke and pine. 

It was a place you had completely fallen in love with the first time he had shown it to you.

Carved into the mountainside, the den stretched wide and cavernous, but hidden from the main communal areas were the small alcoves accessible only through narrow openings high above—the nests.

The room itself was simple: circular and almost entirely devoted to the bed, a layered fortress of furs, moss-stuffed mattresses, and thick wool blankets that absorbed the winter chill. Along the walls, shelves were carved directly into the rock, holding Sylus’s few belongings. A handful of clay jars, a neat stack of herbs and teas, his soaps, a single carved figurine here and there.

Nests weren’t exactly bedrooms. Lycanborns spent most of their time in the communal areas and shared nearly everything between the pack. Most of the pack practiced communal sleeping as well, especially in winter, but you weren’t quite used to that yet.

So you spent your nights here, in Sylus’s nest, listening to the faint rumble of the pack above and feeling strangely safe.

The nest had always felt cozy before, but now, with Sylus’s rut approaching, it felt small, confining, and suffocating. You realized if you were to spend his rut here, there would be no escape. You’d be trapped underground, just as you were trapped in the basement in the cage.

The tea in your hands warmed your fingers, but it did nothing for the sick twist in your stomach. The more you imagined what was coming, the queasier you became.

Sylus, for his part, didn’t seem to fare much better. The moment you both had settled after descending from the kitchens, he hadn't spoken a word.

“You should stay in Caleb’s nest while my rut passes,” Sylus said finally. “I know you’re not used to sleeping in the main hall. It’ll only be a night or two, until I’ve cooled enough for you to be here safely.”

“Shouldn’t we spend it together?” you asked, fingers tapping against your mug. “Zayne said it’s supposed to be with your mate.”

“I’m not concerned about myself,” he replied, eyes on you. “I’m more concerned about you. That’s why I want you out of the nest while this passes.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you asked. “Last time… it seemed so painful.”

“I’ll be alright,” Sylus said. “I’m in my nest, in my home. I’ve got food, water, and I know you’re safe, just out of reach. One or two nights, I can manage that.”

“Does it really only last two days?” you asked.

“Well, no,” he said. “But the worst of it passes quickly. You won’t be in danger from me for long.”

You hated it. Hated that Sylus even implied he could hurt you, hated the way he spoke as if you weren’t safe around him. You hated how the humans in your village had tried to convince him that he was a danger to you. 

But Zayne didn’t see it that way. To him, it was natural, even expected, for a mate to stay with an alpha during his rut. And Zayne was a doctor. That should count for something.

“Would it really be so terrible to spend your rut together?” you asked quietly, unsure if you should press the question.

Sylus looked down at you, irritation thinly veiled. And then you noticed it, what you had missed before. The pre-rut energy radiating off him, subtle but undeniable. Sylus was gentle by nature, yes, but you remembered too well how his gaze could turn feral.

“You haven’t taken me since then, kitten,” Sylus said, voice rough. “What makes you think you could take me in the middle of my rut?”

Shame coiled in your chest. He was right. Since that summer, you hadn’t been with him. First, healing had been necessary, and then, fear had held you back, more than anything else.

This was the first time Sylus had mentioned the lack of sex between you.

You’d been taking things slowly since the day you agreed to be Sylus’s mate. He’d been teaching you how Lycanborn courted and everything had been relatively innocent, beyond sleeping with him in his nest, but that was natural. Lycanborns didn’t see sleeping together the way humans did.

“You’re right,” you said softly, eyes dropping to the floor. “I… I’m stupid. Sorry.”

Sylus’s irritation vanished like mist. He wrapped his arm around you, warmth enveloping you.

“I didn’t mean to be harsh,” he said, voice softer now. “I apologize. But it’s true. Sex during rut is more primal… more animalistic. I would be less gentle, more focused on myself. You’re not ready yet, and that’s okay.”

“But I want to be ready,” you said. “Maybe… maybe we could practice now? Before it actually hits?”

“Oh, kitten,” Sylus said, finally scooping you into his lap. He rubbed his nose back and forth against yours. “I appreciate the thought, but it’s already too late.”

You shoved at his chest, pushing him back just an inch. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you asked. “Why would you keep something like that from me?”

“I kept it from you because I didn’t want it to feel like a timer,” Sylus said. “I wanted any time we spent together to be because you wanted it. If not, I’d deal with it alone.”

“We’re bonded because of what happened, right?” you whispered, frustrated. “Because we already had sex. And now your ruts will be worse without me. Axel ruined everything.”

“A bond isn’t something that can be ruined,” he said softly. “It forms because our hearts choose each other.”

You sighed, sinking into him, letting his arms wrap around you. Pressing your face into the warm crook of his neck, Sylus’s hold tightened automatically.

Your cheek found the spot just behind his ear, and you inhaled, first accidentally, then on purpose.

“Sylus,” you said, nose brushing against his skin. “You smell really good.”

He smelled like he always did, but stronger now, sweeter along his hairline. The scent soothed something deep inside you, and you couldn’t help drawing it in again.

Sylus’s chest shook with a quiet laugh. “Ah. Yes. That’d be the rut coming,” he said. “Hard to miss, isn’t it?”

You didn’t remember Sylus smelling this good last time. In fact, you didn’t remember this scent at all. But last time, you hadn’t been in any condition to notice.

You leaned in, rubbing your cheek along the column of his neck, a habit you’d unconsciously picked up from the pack.

“Tonight might be the last clear-headed evening I have before the rut hits,” he said, thumb brushing lightly along your waist. “If you want, we can have supper here together.”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

You and Sylus ate early, forgoing the main hall and the rest of the pack. He carried your meal down to the nest. Tara had been generous with portions, knowing what was approaching.

The wooden board held roasted game, seasoned simply with salt. Thick slices of hard cheese, mellowed slightly by the winter cold, sat alongside nuts and dried berries. A loaf of freshly baked bread was split open, steam curling into the cold air. Off to the side were Zayne’s carefully prepared bundles: dried valerian root, chamomile flowers, peppermint leaves, lemon balm, hawthorn berries, and licorice root.

You tilted your head toward the herbs. “Will they help?” you asked.

Sylus hungrily tore at the meat without looking up. “We’re spoiled by Dr. Zayne. He can make herbs that act like gentle sedatives. Most adult males in the pack will just sleep through the worst their ruts if they’re not alphas.”

“Any male can go through ruts?” you asked.

“Not quite like us, but yes,” Sylus said. “Non-alphas’ ruts are weaker and sporadic. Usually stress or fights trigger them. Alphas, unfortunately, we get the full cycle.”

Leaning against him, you grinned. “Yeah, but alphas are stronger, and way more manly.”

Sylus’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “Oh?”

You let your fingers trace the curve of his shoulder. “Yeah… you’re a good alpha, Sylus.”

His nostrils flared, and the smile he tried for twisted just enough to bare the edge of a fang.

“You shouldn’t say things like that this close to my rut,” he warned softly. “Not unless you want a reaction.”

You slid your hand down to his bicep, fingers curling around the taut muscle. “What happens if I don’t stop?” you asked.

The rumble in his chest was your only warning.

A soft oof left you as you landed back on the furs, and Sylus was immediately over you, nuzzling.

His cheek pressed against yours, sliding along your skin. Then his face drifted into your neck, nose pushing beneath your jaw, cheek brushing along, forehead bumping lightly into your shoulder.

Both hands settled over your hips, fingers curling and kneading. You squirmed, laughing, as he inhaled deeply, rubbing his cheek down to your collarbone.

“Sylus, st—stop! That tickles—”

“Need my scent on you,” he said, nuzzling closer.

“I sleep in your nest every night, remember?” you said. “Your scent’s already all over me. Caleb hates it.”

At the mention of Caleb, Sylus’s growl deepened. “Caleb needs to quit rubbing his scent over mine,” he said. “You’re not pups anymore.”

You smoothed a hand over his jaw. “Hey, be nice. Caleb’s still learning. He just needs a big, strong alpha to teach him the ropes.”

Sylus’s ears tipped back slightly, his posture softening, culled momentarily by your praise.

He pushed himself upright, clearing his throat. “We should eat,” he said. “We’ll need the strength for—”

Sylus cut himself off mid-sentence, remembering that you wouldn’t be spending his rut with him.

“…We should still eat,” he amended.

You let the slip pass without comment. Sylus was doing this for your sake. You knew that. And yet, the sadness wouldn’t stop rising in your chest.

He wanted to spend his rut with you. You wanted to spend it with him too.

So why did fear, timing, and everything that had happened between you keep getting in the way?

You tried not to let your mind wander. Tried not to imagine what could have been if things had been different. If Sylus could have courted you properly. If your bonding night could have been something planned, something sacred.

Tara had told you hers was ‘the most beautiful thing in existence,’ she had said. You had stopped her before she could give details, because wanting that—wanting something beautiful you’d been robbed of—hurt too much.

Sylus had said your bond couldn’t be tainted. But hadn’t it already been?

You picked at your supper, but mostly you just watched Sylus eat, too guilty and too sad to have an appetite. Normally, he would have noticed immediately, but tonight he was ravenous, pre-rut hunger gnawing through his focus.

After supper, you curled into the furs. Sylus fell asleep almost instantly, exhaustion and instinct pulling him under. His body heat filled the nest, curling around you like a living thing.

You stared at the ceiling for a long time, unable to follow him into sleep.

·𖥸·

The next morning, Sylus went for a run. The hours stretched long, long enough that you began to worry, until finally he returned to the den, muscles gleaming with sweat, chest heaving from exertion.

He was just trying to tire himself out, he had told you, and he reminded you that you should stay with Caleb tonight.

Before disappearing into his own nest, he paused, pulling you aside, and asked you for your used panties. Cheeks burning, hot enough to feel like fire, you fumbled to slip them off discreetly and handed them to him. By the time your flush faded, Sylus had already vanished, retreating to his nest to ride out the next couple of days alone.

You trudged into the den kitchen, dejected. The space was bright for a den, bathed in winter sunlight streaming through a wide cliffside window that framed the snowy forest beyond. Large stone furnaces roared, smoke venting through chimneys carved into the cliff face, filling the room with warmth and the tang of burning wood.

Tara was already at work, stoking the fires and preparing for breakfast.

You hovered near the edge of her workspace. “Can I give you a hand with anything?” you asked.

Tara stood, brushing ash from her hands onto her skirts. “It’s not your watch for the kitchens, silly,” she said. “You don’t need to take on extra work.”

You gave a small shrug. “I’m not really doing anything right now, and I don’t feel like just sitting around all day.”

“With Sylus on the edge of rut, I figured you’d be plenty occupied,” Tara laughed.

You stared down at your twisting hands. “Oh… no. We aren’t spending his rut together.”

Tara lifted a heavy, blackened cauldron from its rack, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You’re not going to be with Sylus this week?” she asked. “Why not? Are you sick or something?” She carried it carefully to the roaring furnace.

You stepped up beside her, helping balance the cauldron over the fire. “No, I’m… I’m not ill or anything… Sylus said he’d manage by himself this time,” you said.

“Wait, what?” Tara’s frown deepened. “Why would he do that?”

You fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve. “Is it… really that bad?”

“Well, it’s highly unusual, that’s for sure,” Tara said. She added cold spring water from a nearby jug, letting it hiss as it met the heat. “Most of the pack breathes a little easier once an alpha finally bonds,” she continued. “It really settles them. There’s less chance of fights between the younger alphas, and mated alphas aren’t likely to throw the rest of us into heat or rut. And I have to admit, I’m surprised Sylus would even attempt it, after the Lumiere incident last winter.”

“Lumiere?” you asked. “Who’s Lumiere?”

Tara laughed, reaching for a burlap sack of oats resting against the wall. “Oh, you weren’t around last winter, were you?”

You shook your head.

“We had a terrible flu sweep through the pack,” Tara said. “Zayne was panicked about running low on medicinal herbs, so I went with him into the Northern Ravine, looking for herbs that could survive the frost. Not exactly easy terrain in winter. Xavier caught the flu at the same time several of the younger alphas hit their ruts all at once. He was weak, so it must have kicked in right in the middle of his illness. And I wasn’t here, I was out foraging.”

Tara shook her head, a grim smile touching her lips. “Poor Xavie was delirious,” she said. “All he wanted was his mate. He was convinced someone had taken me, and he was going to get me back no matter what. He left our nest, tried to dig through the den walls, barreled out right into the snowstorm. Sylus had to pull him off the cliff edge at one point. He injured several of the other alphas while they tried to restrain him. And Xavier’s not even an alpha! The pack started calling him Lumiere because well, that wasn’t Xavier anymore. It was like some other creature had taken over. By the time I returned, Xavier was a bruised and bloodied mess. He didn’t even remember most of it. He felt awful. Sylus felt awful too.”

“Oh no,” you breathed. “Tara, what about Sylus? Could that happen to him too?”

Tara shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly,” she said. “But what happened with Xavier… it was really bad. I’m glad all I do is cry a lot during my heats. I can’t even imagine what all that testosterone does to your brain and body at once. Sounds hellish, that’s for sure.”

You slumped onto the bench at the long table, staring out at the snow swirling against the cliffside. Your lip caught between your teeth as you thought about Sylus. How was he faring right now? Could he truly manage alone, through the coming days? Was that even possible?

You tried to help Tara with breakfast, but she shooed you away.

·𖥸·

Dinner had quieted as the pack settled in. The den felt heavy with winter, the usual clamor dulled, most Lycanborn conserving energy, resting after a short day’s hunt or chores. Soft murmurs were the only sounds, aside from the occasional clink of utensils. Caleb, however, still bounced with restless energy next to you.

It hit you like a shock when Rafayel’s panicked yelp echoed across the hall. His bowl tipped, clanging against the wood, and he tumbled sideways off the bench in response to something.

Distracted by the crash, you barely registered the subtle shift in the room’s tension, until the growl came.

Deep. Angry. Menacing.

You whipped around.

Sylus stood at the entrance, staggering slightly, claws digging into walls for support. His lips curled back, teeth bared, every muscle taut, glistening with sweat. 

And then you noticed he was completely naked. And fully aroused! His cock jutted out, proud and rigid, flushed a deep shade of red.

Caleb responded immediately, a responding growl rumbling from his chest as he sprang to his feet, muscles coiling, ready to intervene. “What the hell is he doing?!” he asked.

Zayne’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I knew this was coming,” he said. Zayne rose slowly, voice calm but sharp. “Enough, Sylus. Get a hold of yourself.”

No words came from Sylus, just a staggering step that closed the distance between him and the rest of the pack.

“Sylus, you need to return to your nest,” Zayne said.

Sylus’s gaze swept the room, and then it locked on you. His eyes burned bright red.

“Not. Alone,” he rasped, each word a growl, each breath laced with menace, as he took another step closer, teeth bared.

“Oh, hell no,” Caleb said as he also advanced. “Go back to your nest, you freak. And my sister is not coming with you.”

Sylus let out an inhuman roar, saliva dripping from his fangs, and lunged.

Caleb hit the ground hard, skidding across the floor, while the nearby pack scrambled to their feet, instinctively parting to give the two space.

“No, Sylus! Stop!” you screamed, running toward the struggle. In desperation, you grabbed a fistful of Sylus’s hair, tugging hard. Instantly, his wild movements froze, and he swiveled his head to look at you, eyes flashing red yet registering your presence.

“Get him off! Get him off me! His dick is touching me!” Caleb yelled, thrashing beneath Sylus’s grip. Without breaking eye contact with you, Sylus clamped a hand over Caleb’s mouth and nose, muffling the protest, though it did little to curb the frantic thrashing beneath him.

You gently tugged at Sylus’s arm, guiding it down. “Sylus, it’s okay,” you said. “Let’s go back to your nest. I’ll come with you.”

His nostrils flared, hot breath brushing against your skin as he leaned in, pressing his forehead and cheek to the side of your neck. “Kitten…”

Sylus tore the front of your dress open, his hands immediately finding your breasts.

“No, no, no! Not here, Sylus! The nest, the nest!” you said, tugging at him.

Zayne stepped in, pulling Caleb out from beneath Sylus while he was distracted. “Just start walking,” he instructed. “Lead the way. He’ll follow.”

“O-okay,” you stammered, pressing your palms against Sylus to push him back as you stepped backward, fingers clutching at the frayed edges of your dress to cover yourself, trying reclaim some shred of modesty.

Shame colored your cheeks, but there was no time to dwell on it. You had to get Sylus back to the nest. Backing out of the kitchen was nothing short of humiliating. Sylus was intent on peeling the dress from your body, and your futile protests only seemed to irritate him further.

Once you reached the corridor, though, it seemed he finally understood. He scooped you up into his arms, carrying you the rest of the way back to his nest.

Back in the kitchen, Zayne turned to Caleb. “Are you alright?”

Caleb’s pupils were blown wide, breaths coming in ragged pants. “Sylus… kill,” he said.

Zayne let out a short, exasperated sigh. “Alright. Nest time for you, too.” He gave Caleb a firm shove on the shoulder, guiding him toward the exit. “What was it you said yesterday…? Ah, yes. I’m sure you’ll feel better after you ‘rub one out.’”

“Sylus! Kill!” Caleb told him.

Zayne rolled his eyes. “Knotheads. All of you,” he said to himself.

·𖥸·

Sylus crawled into the nest, pinning you down immediately onto the soft furs beneath him.

“Bad kitten,” he growled.

“Bad kitten?” you asked, eyes wide. “What did I do?”

“Left,” he hissed, fangs peeking out.

Sylus tore the remainder of your dress away, casting it aside. He spread your legs apart.

“I left?” you asked, bewildered. “But you said I should!”

Sylus didn’t answer; instead, he leaned down in between your legs and began rubbing his nose against your folds. It reminded you of the way he nuzzled against your face, but this time, his intentions were clear.

He pressed his nose deeper, inhaling your scent as if it were lifeblood before licking up your inner thigh.

“Bad kitten,” Sylus repeated. “Need to punish.”

“No!” you said quickly. “No, no, no! No need for punishment. I’ll behave, I swear! I’ll be good!”

Sylus eyed you skeptically, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

“Here. Fill.” His hand found your abdomen, thumb stroking gently, though his claw grazed your skin. “Pups. Make you heavy. Can’t run.”

Sylus let out a gravelly chuckle.

You squeezed your eyes shut and drew in a trembling breath. This wasn’t like last time, you told yourself. You weren’t in danger. You weren’t trapped, and Sylus wasn’t restrained. And yet, your hands shook. You’d come to the nest without a single plan, simply because Sylus had gone after Caleb.

“It’ll be okay, won’t it, Sylus?” you asked. “I’ll be safe?”

His movements paused, nose twitching as he inhaled the air around you. A vibrating exhale rolled past his lips.

“Safe,” he said.

Oh. He thought you meant safe from outside threats. He hadn’t understood you at all. You still weren’t sure how much of your words made it through the haze of his rut.

Sylus pressed his nose against your clit, rubbing it with fervor. His tongue was scorching as it lapped at your sensitive folds before plunging deep inside you.

You weren’t very fond of this; his long tongue brushed against every sensitive spot, even your urethra. You wondered if he intended to trigger a heat that would never come to you. Remembering how you’d pushed him away last time, and how upset it had made him, you let him continue.

Occasionally, he found the right spot, but either your nerves or his fervent hunger kept the pleasure from lasting. You wondered how it might be outside his rut, where you could guide him, but fear had held you back from trying before. Now, his tongue was a wild mess, slobbering over you as he grunted and panted, and you realized he was humping the blankets beneath him.

Sylus didn’t scratch at you this time; instead, he pulled at the furs around you.

As he finally sat up, you felt a lump in your throat.

He grabbed a small glass jar, and you recognized it immediately. It was lanolin. He smeared it over his cock, and oh—that was what Sylus used it for.

He climbed over you, chuffing as he rubbed against you.

He paused, locking eyes with you. “No fight,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “Yes?”

“I-I won’t fight you this time,” you said. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

Sylus chuffed again, seemingly satisfied.

It took him a few attempts of rutting against you, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t succeed. But soon enough, his cock nudged at your entrance, and you inhaled sharply as he pushed inside. The stretch was intense, and you squeezed your eyes shut, panting.

Fear began to creep in as he pressed deeper, filling you completely.

You could feel him against your insides, and a soft whimper slipped from your lips.

Sylus grasped your thighs, lifting them into a mating press, effectively caging you in with his large body.

Discomfort radiated from your thighs, pressed tightly against your head, aching from the unfamiliar angle. You felt as if you might lose all feeling in your legs.

The lanolin allowed him to glide inside you smoothly, which, regrettably for you, also meant deeper thrusts came more quickly, each one drawing a cry from your lips.

“Kitten noisy.”

You attempted to stifle the sound. “S-sorry…”

“Pretty voice,” Sylus replied, starting to lick at your neck.

“S-Sylus—” It burned slightly as he moved back and forth within you, but it was mostly tolerable until you felt him swelling inside you.

You could feel him scraping against your pubic bone, and you instinctively tried to push him away by his hips.

Sylus sat up, knocking your hands aside. 

“Kitten promised,” he said angrily, rutting into you while you stared at the ceiling, struggling to breathe.

As Sylus expanded inside you, his breathing grew heavier, and you felt him pulse once, then twice. He leaned his head back with a groan but didn’t stop thrusting; the slick sound filled the air as his cum provided an extra layer of lubrication.

It felt almost like you were urinating as his hot release spilled from you.

With each thrust, Sylus increased his rhythm.

“Good girl,” he breathed, and you closed your eyes, attempting to relax into the warmth of the furs.

Sylus shook slightly, gripping the blankets tightly, before he grasped your head, tugging at your hair repeatedly.

“Stay,” he commanded. “Stay.”

“I’m right here, Sylus,” you assured him. “I’m staying. See? Right here.”

That made Sylus shudder again, and you felt him pulse thickly inside you, hot torrents spilling forth as he continued.

Though you weren’t exactly well-versed in ruts, you knew that he needed to knot to find true relief.

So far, he was only spilling cum, which didn’t help to quell his fervor. 

Sylus kept a firm grip on your head, growling in your ear. You grasped one of his hands, holding it above you, squeezing as he squeezed you back, his claws digging into the furs beneath you.

“It’s okay, Sylus,” you said. “You don’t have to fight it. You can put pups in me if you want.”

At those words, Sylus’s knot finally popped, and he groaned, stopping his thrusts as you felt him pulse deeply within you. He shook above you, each pulse causing him to tremble, and he stayed still for what felt like ages. 

You almost thought he had knotted inside you, but surely you would have felt it if he had.

That’s when your stomach decided to let out a loud growl.

Right, you hadn’t had supper yesterday, and today’s meal was interrupted.

You heard Sylus chuff softly next to your ear as he slipped out of you. He had been quite deep inside, and you felt every inch as you parted around him.

When he pulled away, the cold air hit your skin, and you shivered. Rolling onto your side, you tried to catch your breath, only to see Sylus moving. He stood up and moved toward the nest’s opening.

“Sylus! What are you doing?” you called out, alarmed.

He popped his head and one arm out, then ducked back in, and you realized he was carrying a tray. Of food. 

Two bowls of stew, thick and steaming, filled with chunks of roasted root vegetables and tender meat. They had been set just outside the nest, warm and waiting for you. Someone was making sure you were fed.

See? You were safe, you reminded yourself.

Sylus pressed a spoon into your hand, instructing, “Eat.”

You held the spoon limply, your eyes wide in shock. Sylus was feeding you? In the midst of his rut? You had assumed it would be nothing but constant sex, that he wouldn’t stop at all.

“Eat,” he commanded again, pressing the spoon to your lips.

The smell of warm food and your intense hunger finally registered to your senses. 

As you leaned closer to eat, a rush of cum and air escaped from you. You froze at the sound, but Sylus paid no mind; he continued eating without a reaction. 

You followed suit, only to realize as you sat upright how sore your pussy felt. 

Uh-oh. How much longer could your body endure this?

Each time you moved, more of his release spilled out of you.

“Um… Sylus?” you asked.

His head snapped toward you at once.

You wet your lips. “…Did Dr. Zayne give you any birth control?”

Sylus cocked his head, expression unreadable. No flicker of comprehension. Just that unwavering stare.

You tried again, gentler. “The fertility suppressant. The tea?”

At the word tea, his ears twitched. Suddenly he turned, rummaged through his shelf, and grabbed the mug he’d abandoned earlier. He pressed the lukewarm cup into your hands.

You stared down at it.

“Oh—no, Sylus,” you said. “Not this tea.”

He stared back at you. Blank as fresh snow.

“I mean the one that prevents pregnancy,” you said. “You know, pups?”

At the mention of pups, Sylus’s gaze intensified.

You let out a small gasp as he moved, his hand resting on your stomach.

“Pups.”

“Yes, pups, Sylus,” you said, placing your hand over his. “But not right now. You understand that, right?”

“Pups inside,” he said.

“No, Sylus, that’s not what—” you began, but he ignored you.

One hand gripped your hip while the other pressed you back down against the furs.

“Punish kitten.”

Great, all you succeeding in doing was stirring him up again! How foolish of you!

Sylus hungrily latched onto one of your nipples, sucking hard. The tips of his fangs pricked your skin.

He spent a moment on one before switching to the other, pulling with fervor.

“Needs milk,” Sylus tsked.

Sylus attempted to rut into you again, but couldn’t find his way in.

Growing angry, he forced your legs apart and pushed them up, driving his cock deep inside you.

It sank straight to the hilt, and you cried out at the sudden fullness.

You squirmed, trying to adjust for a better angle, but Sylus held your legs aloft, restraining your movements while he continued to thrust into without mercy.

“Breed you full,” Sylus said. “Teach you, kitten.”

The soreness was beginning to intensify.

Sylus withdrew completely before driving all the way back in.

It was too much, far too much for you to handle.

Sylus leaned down, holding you tightly against him.

His skin was scorching hot, and you hid your face in his neck as he kept pounding into you.

You were stretched wide open and felt his heavy, warm balls slapping against your exposed asshole.

The sounds of your pain grew louder now.

You felt Sylus beginning to swell again.

Whimpering against his neck, you wished for it all to be over.

This time, as he came, his thrusts intensified, driving his cock deeper within you.

Instead of just soreness and friction, you felt real pain as he tried to push more of himself into you.

Was he trying to knot you?!

No, no, no.

That was definitely not going to fit.

You felt his cock thudding against your cervix, flaring pain shooting through your entire abdomen.

The beginnings of his swelling knot pushed against your entrance, stretching you.

You pushed away with all your might, your body twisting as you squirmed, desperate to escape.

Sylus snarled in frustration, giving you a warning snap right by your ear, his teeth closing around nothing with a hard crack.

Frantic and panicked, you wriggled and kicked, and in a sudden rush, his cock slipped free.

He came hard onto the sheets, eyes shut as he rode the waves of pleasure.

Sitting up, you caught a glimpse of his knot for the first time, a thick, purple mass that swelled at the base of his cock

He gripped it in his hand, squeezing firmly as torrents of cum shot forth.

Oh no. Sylus was going to be furious with you.

You had stopped him from knotting you and filling you with his seed.

When he climbed back over, you tried to retreat, but he caught you swiftly.

You trembled, your body shaking not only from fear, but also from the sweat cooling on your bare skin.

Sylus simply pulled you close and laid you back down, placing you in the crook of his neck and covering you with a warm blanket.

You clung to him, shivering from the chill, using his body heat to warm your cold skin.

Sylus continued to twitch from the aftershocks of his climax.

Gradually, his breath began to steady.

When you looked up, you realized he had succumbed to sleep.

Thank the stars. Did this mean he was done for the night?

You attempted to rise, but he tightened his grip, growling softly in his sleep.

You were stuck.

You pressed in closer, using his warm chest as a cozy pillow as you tried to steady your own breathing.

Exhaustion crept in slowly, fading the last traces of adrenaline from your system. With Sylus finally collapsed and unmoving beside you, your body surrendered, and sleep pulled you under before you could fight it.

·𖥸·

You were drifting in and out of sleep, your body clinging to warmth and rest.

A series of fast panting and grunting broke through your slumber.

As you began to wake, the memories flooded back to you.

You were in Sylus’s nest, having come down here with him after he’d sought you out in the middle of his rut.

Your eyes snapped open, and your body became aware of the sensations around you.

You lay flat on your back, Sylus beside you, half on your side and half draped over you.

He was thrusting against your leg, but he was doing so while still asleep.

You stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he could truly find release in just this manner.

With a firm grip on your hips, he dragged his cock along your body, and his breathing started to stutter as his thrusts turned erratic.

You heard him groan and felt his release warm against your leg.

Sylus let out a long, contented sigh and leaned in, nose brushing your hair as he breathed you in. “Kitten…” he said, voice thick and syrup-soft with sleep.

But halfway through his inhale, the sound caught. His body went rigid.

He blinked awake all at once.

He cupped your face, tilting it toward him, searching, confused.

Then shock blasted across his features.

He jerked away, pushing himself upright with a scramble of limbs.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

You pushed up on your elbows, heart jumping. “Sylus?”

Had his rut broken? No. Impossible. Yesterday had only been the first day.

Sylus’s gaze darted around the nest as if seeing it for the first time.

Then he looked down at himself, at the scratches on his chest, the dried sweat on his skin, and then he looked to you, where the blankets had slipped from your shoulder, exposing bare skin.

“No.” The word came out strangled.

He stared at you, eyes wide, chest heaving too fast. “Tell me… tell me I didn’t hurt you,” Sylus said. “Please, tell me I didn’t—” He stopped, unable to finish.

You scrambled across the nest on hands and knees, reaching him. “Sylus—Sylus, hey, it’s okay, I’m okay. Look at me.”

But he was already unraveling. His breaths came in ragged bursts, chest jerking with every inhale, muscles taut and trembling.

“Why… why did you come?” His voice was hoarse, laced with horror. “What have I done? I don’t… I don’t remember—”

His hands clawed at his own hair, fingers shaking, trying to hold himself together.

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. “Sylus, look at me. You’re scaring yourself. I’m right here. I’m fine.”

His pupils were blown wide; he was still half-feral, caught between rut and reason.

“Get out—” he rasped, voice cracking again. “Go… just go, please. Before I—”

A strangled, guttural whine tore from him, and he cut himself off.

You slid closer, pressing a hand gently against his jaw, feeling the taut cord of muscle straining under his skin. “Sylus, I’m not leaving. I’ll stay right here with you. For the whole rut. You won’t be alone. You’ll be with your mate.”

He looked down at you, confusion flickering across his features.

“I’ll be a good kitten, remember?” you said.

Sylus’s hand gripped your wrist, guiding it along the line of his jaw and the bridge of his nose, pressing you to him as he drew in your scent.

“Are you alright?” He asked. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m alright, Sylus,” you said. “Really. See? Nothing’s wrong.”

You relayed this to Sylus, but as you assessed your body, you became acutely aware of just how sore you truly were.

Your core throbbed with a dull ache; Sylus had carved the memory of his cock into your tender lips.

Even now, you could still feel the imprint of him lingering.

You tried to mask the tension. “Will you slip under again?” you asked.

Sylus’s expression darkened. He pressed his eyes shut, jaw tight. “I can’t promise I won’t.”

You exhaled shakily and Sylus dragged a hand down his face, teeth clenched.

His eyes snapped wide open once more and he pushed you away. “No—” he breathed. “I don’t want—”

His shoulders hunched as a low growl escaped him involuntarily.

You looked down to see he was fully erect and leaking precum.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, tugging at his hair as though the pain could stabilize him.

His claws clicked out with a soft sound.

A rush of instinct hit him suddenly, causing his body to jerk. His pupils dilated wide with hunger.

Sylus’s alpha was furious with you, intent on punishing you by ensuring you were pregnant so you wouldn’t leave the nest again.

You had assured Sylus that nothing was wrong, but the ache between your legs was bordering on unbearable.

Even after a night’s rest, you doubted you could handle another round, especially if he tried to knot you again.

“Don’t go yet, Sylus,” you whispered.

His breathing was ragged and wild, but he grasped your hand firmly.

“Here,” Sylus gasped, “I’m—here. Not—lost.”

He lifted you, pulling you into his lap.

“Kitten.”

The heat of his breath washed over you.

“Please—” you said. 

Your battered pussy must be swollen shut by now.

Sylus began to sink you down onto his cock anyway, and you cried out.

You felt him press against the back of your cervix, and gripped the back of your head tightly, anchoring you in place.

The stretch was so much more agonizing than before, your pussy already pushed to its limits from the previous encounters.

It was sore, hypersensitive, and completely overstimulated.

“Sylus, please,” you said. “I don’t think I can take any more.”

He let out a loud groan, gently petting your hair as he held you close.

He remained still, having settled you fully onto his cock.

He nudged his nose against yours, locking eyes with you, a low snarl playing at his lips as he revealed a glimpse of his teeth.

“Won’t hurt kitten,” he said.

You concentrated on your breathing as you adjusted to his fullness, and his lack of movement allowed you to steady yourself.

Then, his cock jumped inside you, pulsing with life, and you yelped at the surge of sensation.

“Sorry,” Sylus said, his voice thick with need. “I can’t help it.”

“Sylus?” you asked. You searched his eyes. “Sylus!”

“Just stay like this, okay?” he said, a trace of desperation in his voice. “Is that alright? I promise I won’t move.”

“Okay,” you said softly, your breath hitching.

Sylus’s cock leaped inside you, and he moaned, his pupils dilating and shrinking in rapid succession.

He was grappling with his feral instincts, and you needed him to keep his composure. Because even in this position, you felt thoroughly stretched, your muscles so tender it was a struggle to even sit on his cock.

He took your hand and kissed it softly, groaning as he spoke. “Talk to me, please?” Sylus said. “I need to hear your voice.”

You knew what he really needed was to pop a knot.

“Sylus,” you said, staring directly into his eyes. “Put a baby in me so I can't run away.”

Sylus threw his head back.

You felt him pulsing inside you as his knot began to swell beneath your body. You grinded against it, forcing all your weight onto it.

Sylus held you close, panting and gasping for breath.

Then he lifted you off him, and your pussy finally found relief.

Sylus sat there, hunched over and breathing hard, watching you intently.

“Have we eaten yet?” he asked, still panting.

·𖥸·

After breakfast, Sylus carried you to the hot springs.

The cavern opened into a natural amphitheater of rock, where hot water pooled over smooth stones. Bright morning light filtered through the open cave, turning the rising steam above the water into a pale, shifting mist.

A few pack members were already in the springs, their eyes flitting warily to Sylus as he set you down at the shallow edge; you had emerged from the nest before his rut had fully broken.

Sylus reassured you now that while a day or two of residual intensity might remain, he wouldn’t go feral again. His concern was for you, not himself. Even though today he’d barely moved and hadn’t knotted you, your pain had only worsened.

He wanted to see you bathed, soothed, and safe, and for Zayne to examine you just to be sure.

Sylus paid no mind to anyone else around, kneeling behind you in the steaming water. His hands moved gently through your tangled hair, massaging your scalp as he worked to untangle the knots. Your hair had become a wild mess, tangled with knots and remnants of cum.

Being in the mineral-laden water of the spring made you feel much better, yes; however, your pussy allowed the water to slip inside, and as you moved, it squelched out a blend of lotion and cum that mingled with the rushing water flowing out of you.

“How are you feeling?” Sylus asked.

“I’m okay,” you said.

Sylus’s hands stilled, fingers lingering in your damp hair. Slowly, he tilted your chin upward, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“I want the truth,” he said.

“Sore,” you said. 

Even though Sylus was gradually returning to himself, you could tell he wasn’t entirely himself yet. His eyes still carried the shadow of the rut.

The events of the past night and morning had left you emotionally raw. A few tears welled up before you could stop them. “It really hurts,” you admitted.

Despite being in the soothing hot spring, your pussy continued to pound and pulse, sending waves of ache with each inhale.

Sylus cupped your jaw with one hand, thumb brushing lightly along your skin. His pupils dilated, flickering between the lingering rut urges and his desire to protect you.

You pulled back slightly. “If talking about my pain excites you, then maybe I shouldn’t tell you anything again.”

Before you could turn away, Sylus’s hands moved to your shoulders, holding you in place.

“That’s not what I feel,” he said. “I would never take pleasure in your pain.”

“Maybe you should tell that to your alpha,” you said. “He said he was going to punish me.”

“What? I—I don’t remember saying that.” Sylus’s brows knit. “I would never punish you.”

“You did,” you insisted, wiping a tear with the heel of your hand. “You called me a bad kitten.”

Instantly, his ears drooped. “You’re not a bad kitten,” he said. “You’re a good kitten. My good kitten.”

“I am!” you said. “All I do is listen to you! I follow your orders exactly, and you still get mad at me—”

You choked on your words, and Sylus immediately pulled you into his chest, letting out a soft, pained whine before pulling you tighter.

From the other side of the springs, Rafayel’s voice cut through. “Ugh, you guys are disgusting! Just go back to your nest already!”

You tried to regain your composure, and once Sylus had cleaned you up, you both tried to slip away without drawing attention.

Once you were gone, Rafayel turned to the rest, eyebrows raised. “She’s not really a cat, is she?”

·𖥸·

Zayne’s nook was cluttered with dried herbs hanging from hooks and clay jars lined the shelves along with bundles of stacked roots.

“So, since the two of you have decided to be reckless—yet again—and underprepared—yet again,” Zayne said, crossing his arms, “do you want to wait for your body to give you signs, or do you want certainty?”

You and Sylus exchanged a brief, guilty glance between you.

“I’ll take the test,” you said.

Zayne set a shallow wooden bowl of seeds onto the table.

“Here,” he said, sliding it toward you. “Wheat and barley seeds. Pee in this. If they sprout by tomorrow morning… well, you’ll know. You’re pregnant.”