The Devil's Wolf

Cael did not speak as she closed her bedroom door behind them. Her parents had left it untouched, despite the three years she had lived away, and it warmed her heart that they had kept it for her. It felt like coming home, she thought, as if she could pull the comfort of childhood back around her, and retreat from the world until she was less wearied by it.

There were the same knick-knacks and books on her shelves, the same stack of dated magazines, her old photos in frames and around the dresser mirror, even, she saw with a blissful sigh, her clothing and shoes still in the walk-in-wardrobe. "Yes," she said emphatically as she flicked through the contents of the shelves. "Hopefully I still fit into these!" She pulled out a pair of jeans and held them against her waist before shoving them back into the shelf.

Her father had put away these clothes, she thought looking at the neat stacks that were precisely folded - she or her mother would have taken less care. Or, he had visited her wardrobe in her absence and tidied the shelves whilst he was there, unable to tolerate the mess. He had probably been there for her scent, she thought with a twist of her heart and imagining her big, protective father missing her and seeking comfort from the scent of her that lingered in her clothing. "Oh, dad," she sighed, guilt causing an uncomfortable prickle behind her eyes.

She closed the walk-in-robe door behind her without removing any clothing. What she had planned wouldn't require any.

Cael poked around her shelves, looking at photos with interest. "You look happy," he said, touching one.

"I had a great childhood," she told him. "I have great parents. I always felt loved and wanted and supported in anything I did, and you can't ask for much else, as a kid."

"And yet, you left them. You left here."

"I didn't turn when I became and adult," she explained. "I don't have a wolf and nothing I tried fixed it. It is hard being the odd one out amongst your friends and family. I knew I had to find my own way, away from here, that I couldn't stay. I just didn't belong. The pack never were mean about it," she took the photo from him and looked at the laughing faces with sadness. "They are not like that. But there is a structure of a pack, everyone knows their place, and I didn't have one." She put the photo back onto the shelf. "Come on, then," she ordered Cael, pointing into the en suite. "You could use a good scrub before you get into my bed."

He didn't argue but followed her into the ensuite and watched her start the water and undress, his eyes heating as he watched her expose her skin. "Your turn," she told him. "Or do you want some help?" She reached out and lifted the edge of his shirt, letting her knuckles drag up his skin as she pulled it up and over his head.

"Oh, my," she murmured as he raised his hands to help her, the movement making the muscles of his stomach, his arms, and chest shift. "You are really..." she cast the shirt to the side and stroked her hand over his ribs and down to his waist. "Very pretty," she purred. "You are really exceptionally pretty."

He swallowed, and she was not surprised when she eased his trousers from him, to find the fabric caught against his hard on. She touched him with a fingertip. "Hello handsome," she bit her bottom lip as she grinned. "I know just what to do with you. But, first, shower." She tugged him into the spray with her.

"Turn around," she told him, enjoying his compliance and the view. He was glorious bare, she thought as he lifted his chin in order to submerge his hair into the flow of water, all bronze skin and muscle. She poured body wash onto the palm of her hand and stroked it over his chest. His eyes smouldered as he watched her hands move over his skin.

She washed him very thoroughly, running her hands over inch of his body, causing him to groan, his arousal jumping in response.

"You are pushing my tolerance," he murmured eventually, his voice husky with desire.

"Shut up." She stood on tiptoe in order to wash his hair. "You are very pretty when you keep your mouth shut. Now, put your hands to good use and wash me whilst I do my hair." She began to shampoo, turning her back to him.

After a moment, he took up the body wash and worked a lather between his hands before stroking it across her shoulders and back, smoothing the palms of his hands down to her arse. He was just as thorough washing her as she had been washing him, stepping close, his big hands stroking over her breasts and down her stomach so that she had to put a hand onto the tiles to support herself, her knees wanting to give.

He kissed her shoulder and followed the line up her neck. "But two can play that game," he breathed into her ear.

"You are talking again," she replied. "I don't remember telling you that you could."

"F-k you."

"Yes. But not in the shower when there's a perfectly good bed."

His voice was filthy with need as he groaned. "You are a wanton creature."

"I am a wolf," she replied. "We are more pragmatic when it comes to sex. Pass me a towel." She turned off the water. "We are clean, now let's get dirty."

He pulled her against him, his hand cupping the back of her head as he ravished her mouth, his tongue stroking against hers as his hips pressed against her. He lifted her so that she wrapped her legs around him and carried her out of the shower and to the bed.

Her back had barely touched the mattress before he thrusted into her, throwing his head back with a sharp cry. His hands gripped her hips as he drove himself into her at a frantic pace.

The expression on his face stole her breath. A tormented devil, she thought as he came, his teeth bared in a grimace of anguish, exorcising his demons on her body. His neck corded as he came, and his eyes closed.

He stood still for a long moment, and the clench of his fingers on her skin eased.

"Cael," she said softly.

He pulled from her and turned away.

She pushed off the bed and put her hand against between the silver scars that marked the passage of his wings through his flesh. When he did not shake her off, she slid her arms around him, and pressed her cheek against his back. His hand closed over hers on his chest.

"Come to bed, Cael," she said.

He sighed and released her hands, his coming to hang at his sides. She took one in hers and used it to turn him and encourage him back to the bed.

He lay down without meeting her eyes. She held herself up on her elbow and stroked his hair back from his face, before leaning over and kissing his lips gently. He closed his eyes and swallowed heavily. She kissed along his jawline, and down his neck, across his chest.

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His hand shifted to rest against her lower back, a subtle encouragement, she decided as she traced a path down his stomach muscles until she could take him into her mouth.

He drew in a sharp breath on a moan. She explored him with her tongue, until his hips bucked, and then lifted over him, straddling him. His hands closed on her hips, and he directed her movement as he rocked up into her, his eyes at half-

mast.

She leaned over to kiss him, and this time he kissed her back, before rolling so that she was under him. He lifted her leg over his back, holding it there as he worked himself against her, staying close, and keeping contact between their lips and he met and held her eyes.

"My wolf," he whispered against her lips. Oh god, she thought as he held her hips tighter to him, the intensity of his gaze caused her heart to ache as his body built a different type of ache.

"Yes, Cael." She moaned, clinging to him as she came, and saw the moment his eyes lost focus as he followed.

He lowered over her, and she stroked her hands up his back and pressed kisses into the gold tumble of his hair. "No more flying away, Cael," she told him firmly. "You are mine."

He sighed heavily. "And the vampire?"

"He is mine too."

"Hmm," he was not surprised. "You are more like my people, than one of the slave species."

"Your people have triads?"

"Frequently."

"Well, I guess that explains it," she felt relieved. "I must have inherited it through my mother. Wolves rarely form triads. It does happen, but not that often."

"Evelyn's line," he agreed. "The line that binds us."

"Elior was worried that I might... attract more mates. He thought that perhaps I was more... I don't know exactly." She struggled to put in words what the vampire had suggested so eloquently. "He thinks that I am a wanton creature too," she used Cael's term with a smile. "And might take more mates than just you and him."

"Unlikely," he decided. "My people never have more than three, and neither do the slaves. You are from a mutated line, but your basic nature isn't too dissimilar from my people or the slaves. The only slaves that I know that take multiple partners are gargoyles."

"My father called you a devil." He looked more like the popular concept of an angel, she thought, then a devil.

"Mmm." He shifted slightly, adjusting against her. "It is the slave name for us. They call those that follow the old ways the devils, and those that do not keep slaves, angels," he chuckled derisively.

"I can understand that. I think if I were a slave, I would consider my owners devils."

"You are a slave. You just don't have a master."

"Cael," she was firm. "No more of that. If anyone is the slave in this relationship, it will be you."

He blew out a frustrated breath. "I am not a slave."

"Maybe I will get you a collar," she smirked. "Studded, with a leash."

"You are joking," he lifted up and looked down at her, and his expression softened. He stroked her hair back from her face. "You are very beautiful," he said. "For a wolf."

"And you are very beautiful for a devil. Now stop running off your mouth and go to sleep."

"You like to silence me."

"Still talking," she pulled his mouth down to hers, and he took over the kiss, making it gentle and tender, giving her a breath-taking insight to the potential of the man behind the anguish, anger, and attitude. He stroked her cheek beneath his thumb, before moving to the side and putting his arm over her, and he nuzzled into the curve of her neck.

She fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her side.

She woke when Elior entered the room and watched through mostly closed eyes as he stripped and showered before sliding into the bed on her other side, his skin warmed by the water and scented with her soap.

"Mmm," she stroked her hand over his chest and nuzzled into him. Cael was un-moving against her, his breath rising and falling steadily over her skin and did not stir as the vampire make himself comfortable. "I like you smelling of my strawberry soap."

He laughed, surprised. "It is a different scent for me," he replied. "I like it on you, however. It is a bit... feminine for my personal taste, however." "How is the world?" She asked him.

"Like a sandcastle caught in the tide," he replied wearily. "It collapses faster than I can repair it. But I need to rest, before I can attempt again."

She pressed her lips to his. "Sleep, then, Elior, my poor vampire."

"Hmm," he kissed her back before settling back onto the pillow, closing his eyes as he put his hand over hers where it lay on his chest. "For a few hours, at least."