Pig the Red Riding Hood and Wolf The Hunter (13)(PigxWolf)
The first time Joshua met Ourois, he was as repulsive as he had imagined.
The True Owner of The Fur
Joshua hauled the handcart over a low crest, and the orphanage finally materialized in the distance. The two-story timber house sat amidst a rather ragged lawn, boasting only scattered tufts of green grass.
The wolf’s heart swelled as he pictured the scene that usually awaited him: the children playing within the fenced yard, spotting him coming over the hill, crying out his name, and rushing to cling to the gate to welcome him. And Samantha, standing just behind them, her hands and apron dusted with flour from kneading dough. She would look a little vexed at the children for climbing the fence, but her disposition would soften the moment her eyes met his.
He would follow her inside to the staff’s room to collect his coin. The moment the door clicked shut, he would steal a kiss before she could even reach for her purse.
And then… once night fell, he would return to hold her. Just the thought of her whimpering his name into the pillow, her plush, yielding flesh pinned under his claws, and the sheer heat of her body pressed flush against his chest made his mouth water.
He rolled the cart down the incline, fully expecting to see that familiar domestic portrait. Instead, the scene before him was entirely different.
The yard was empty. No children were out playing. The front door was bolted tight, and the second-story curtains had been drawn completely shut.
Samantha stood outside the main entrance, her arms tightly crossed over her chest, her posture radiating pure hostility. She was in the middle of a furious altercation with a wild boar.
The fellow was large, though not too large for Joshua to bring down. He had broad shoulders and a tangled mess of coarse brown bristles. There were faint traces of what might have once been a handsome boar,But now he looked thoroughly unkempt, stripped of all dignity. His eyes were hollow and sunken, and though his clothes were made of fine material, they were filthy and clearly neglected.
He was standing entirely too close to Samantha, looming forward in a blatant attempt to intimidate her.
Joshua’s claws clamped hard around the handle of the cart. He knew instantly who the boar was.
Ourois?
Though they had never met face-to-face, Joshua recognized Samantha’s former fiancé on instinct alone, and an immediate loathing flared within him. The wolf’s lip twitched involuntarily, baring a glimpse of a single fang before he forced it back down.
The moment Samantha spotted Joshua pulling the cart into the yard, her entire demeanor shifted. The tension drained from her frame, replaced by an undeniable look of relief. Her expression was like a sudden burst of sunlight piercing through a storm.
"Mr. Joshua, you arrived just in time!" she called out, her voice louder than usual, intentionally letting every syllable drift into Ourois's ears.
It wasn't the soft, intimate tone she normally reserved for him; this was a performance meant to establish a boundary.
The wild boar turned to look at the wolf. A flash of apprehension crossed his features. His small, piggy eyes widened, sweeping over Joshua….taking in the large, wide muzzle, the towering frame, the broad shoulders covered in thick brown fur, and the massive claws gripping the cart handle.
Ourois’s nostrils flared, as if sizing up the threat, calculating his odds if he were to match strength against Joshua in a brawl.
Joshua smirked inwardly. Should I flash my teeth at this bastard right now?
The wolf pulled the cart toward Samantha, pacing himself so as not to appear overly rushed. He set the handle down, stepped into her space, and removed his broad-brimmed sunhat. Holding it respectfully with both hands, he bowed to her…a deliberate display of deference meant to ensure that anyone watching understood he was her wolf, fiercely loyal and ready to tear apart anyone who dared lay a finger on her.
"Good day, Madam. Am I interrupting a private matter?"
"Not at all, Mr. Joshua. This will be settled shortly," Samantha said firmly. Then, she turned back to the boar. "Go away, Ourois. I have no coin for you. Every single penny I possess is for the children. Do not threaten me again, or I will report you directly to the Pig Association."
Ourois’s face twisted in an ugly grimace of rage, desperate to lash out at her but entirely paralyzed by Joshua’s looming presence.
"You received a king's ransom from my father," Ourois snarled, his voice bordering on a shout. "You ought to share some of it with me! I’m his son; those things belong to his bloodline!"
"Those provisions belong to the orphans, not to me, and most certainly not to you."
Samantha’s voice cut like ice—colder than Joshua had ever heard it. "Leave! Do you see the wolf standing behind me? We are his loyal patrons. He comes here nearly every day and is very dear to the children." With that final threat, the sow turned her back on him, preparing to walk inside.
Ourois spat onto the dirt, looking exactly like a spoiled child who had lost a match and refused to accept the verdict.
"Don't tell me you're letting a filthy wolf mount you. You're fucking disgusting."
The words struck Samantha like a slap, making her whip around instantly. "Do not slander me, Ourois!" her face flushed with pure fury. "As for you? Your own performance in bed was pathetic and disgusting. And now you come here begging to steal from orphans? You are nothing but absolute rubbish."
Ourois’s jaw dropped. His body lurched forward, the instinctive motion of a beast about to pounce. But before the wild boar could even frame a response, a low, menacing rumble vibrated from Joshua's chest.
It was the deep, guttural sound a wolf makes right before he snaps a neck.
Ourois froze entirely.
"Oh," Joshua tilted his head, his lips peeling back slowly to expose every single one of his massive, stark white teeth—his long, lethal fangs, followed by his sharp incisors and heavy molars, all gleaming dangerously in the sunlight. "Pardon me. Just had a bit of fur caught in my throat."
The wild boar stared at the lethal display of teeth, his nostrils flaring in fear. Without another word, he spun on his heel and slinked away, never once daring to look back.
Samantha and Joshua stood shoulder to shoulder, tracking Ourois’s retreating figure until he finally vanished over the crest of the hill.
The yard fell into a heavy quiet, the wind whistling softly through the tall grass.
"I don't like him," Joshua said flatly.
"I utterly despise him," Samantha scoffed, huffing through her snout. To Joshua, the tiny noise was incredibly endearing.
He kept his eyes trained on the road where Ourois had disappeared. The residual growl still lingered in his throat, unspent and craving release, but he swallowed it down.
"I’m a bit jealous," Joshua admitted, his voice dropping. "Knowing you used to share a bed with that fellow."
Samantha offered him a sideways glance.
"There was nothing memorable about it," she replied, her voice as detached as when she discussed invoices or the children's meal schedules. Then, her tone softened, dropping to a mere murmur. "The only reason I ever submitted to him..." She paused, her eyes tracing the grass beneath her boots. "...was because his bristles were the exact same color as your fur. It was the only thing that made me think of you."
Joshua went utterly still. The wind swept through his coat, carrying away the last traces of the wild boar’s scent. He felt a sudden, profound shift in his chest—the petty jealousy evaporating entirely, replaced by something far warmer, far deeper.
"Well," he purred softly, "it seems you've finally found the true owner of the fur you were missing."
Samantha let out a soft, breathy laugh. It was a completely different frequency from the wicked noises she made when he took her, but he cherished it just as much.
"I was over the moon, you know," Joshua continued, "when I first heard you had broken off the betrothal."
"And how exactly did you find that out?" Samantha looked up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. "Have you been spying on me?"
"A friend told me, of course," Joshua shrugged playfully.
"A friend?" Samantha arched an eyebrow. "I suppose I'll have to be far more cautious from now on. You seem to have spies everywhere."
Then, Samantha reached out and gently touched his arm. Her fingers lingered on his forearm for just a heartbeat—a quiet, intimate gesture, as if using his strength as a sanctuary to steady her heart.
"Come inside," she said softly. "The children have been asking for you all morning."