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My own pack welcomed me warmly when I returned. The wolves I had met at the training; I had what I can only describe as an aura of confidence around me now, still feeling the afterglow of my first turning. It meant I was someone's alpha, now, even if I'd never meet him again, and that meant I could be theirs, too. Even the angry one - Jackson, I think - was happy to meet me again, unable to hide his tail wagging despite his otherwise grumpy exterior. Oh, the perks of being canines. I was asked questions, and given a few hesitant licks and sniffs here and there, and I answered best I could, although I left out who I'd turned.

But there was an unfamiliar scent in the old building too, and it kept distracting me while I talked with my pack. Someone unknown to me, but clearly a canid as well. I could not place it, and it kept drawing my attention. It was a somehow sinister smell, the typical werewolf musk with, I'd say, tones of ozone. Luckily, it wasn't long before I discovered who it was.

When I left my pack - who had been lavishing me with attention and stroking my ego, some of them even stroking my sheath - I was suddenly tackled from the darkness again. He came from one of the rooms so dilapidated that we couldn't even sleep in it. Adrenaline shot through me again, but this one was clearly not hostile; I was starting to get used to being tackled like this, which seemed to be how unfamiliar werewolves greeted each other. Perhaps to establish their status as compared to you.

We rolled on the floor and into a wall. I felt a hand constrict around my throat, and I answered with a swipe at it, cutting deep and dislodging his hand before he could do any real damage. I was about to follow up on it with something worse, bouncing back onto my feet, but then my pack was there. All of them, having heard the commotion, and before I could see what was going on they were on top of the unseen assailant, holding him in place for me. My heart swelled with affection and price (pride).

This was a grey wolf. He was skinnier than the average of us. Not truly a fighter, and he couldn't break free of Jackson and one of the women - whose names I still hadn't learned - holding onto his arms. His ears folded in deference.

"Yeah..." he growled, "...this is how it usually goes when I'm on the frontlines".

I saw his tail fall too, almost between his legs. I looked at my pack, cocking my head instinctively, and they all knew what I meant. "He's the hacker", one of the females answered. "Kevin," she added.

Jackson continued. "And he's always like this, the fucker, picking fights and not finishing them, or he cheats. You fucking pussy," he snarled at the grey wolf.

"I cheat because I usually win when I do," Kevin replied. His arm had already healed from my swipe, and slowly, we all relaxed a little. He showed no more signs of wanting to fight, having learned that despite being my senior, I was more than capable of overpowering him. Well, when I say we all relaxed, I mean all of us except Jackson, who was never relaxed, instead opting to curse at him and pace around while issuing small growls and snarls.

"I'd apologize, but you know how it is," Kevin said. He was very eloquent, even in wolf form. "Yes, I am your hacker, the runt of the litter, but a savant when it comes to anything computer."

"How exactly do you hack when shif-" I started, but he interrupted me. "Because I'm not the same kind of werewolf as you," he told me.

"I don't get the massive claws. I'm less of a killing machine and more of a scout," he told me. "What, you didn't know there werediverse types of werewolves(,)_"_he chuckled. I wanted to punch his snout and he broke into a yapping laughter, drawing subdued angry growls from the rest of my pack.

"No, no..." he wheezed, laughing so hard at nothing in particular. "I'm not actually a werewolf," he continued. "Real talk: I'm a were_coyote._ I don't blame any of you for not smelling that, since you're all noobs."

It made sense, suddenly. He was smaller, scruffier, and seemingly more cunning, although he did have a little of the same aggressive streak that we lycanthropes did. Of course he was a coyote - but I hadn't known that such things existed.

"How many kinds of weres are there, then?" I asked.

"Weres? You know that word means 'human' right?" he cackled, but sobered up when he saw my expression. "There's a lot. Only mammals, and we canines tend to stick together so we often only see each other, but," his expression changed to something I could not identify. "There's others. Wereotters are like our navy seals, and we often work with them. I've met a werebear, but they're usually loners. I don't know, I think there's a lot of us, at least predatory mammals."

This was interesting and new, but it didn't ultimately change anything. That said, I did want to meet a wereotter now. Would they be tiny like otters, or did the curse cause them to grow to our size? I was simultaneously scared and intrigued by the idea of an otter as big as myself.

"Let him go," I told my pack, and they instantly followed my orders, releasing Kevin from their grip. He rubbed his arm, as if it still hurt despite having healed.

"Alright, peeps," he said in a chipper tune. "You know what we're going to do, right? We're going to go on the offensive against Ambicorp and WB..." he paused. "...of course, that's like cutting heads off a hydra; won't kill it, but it will slow it down."

"WB Security, I've met them before," I answered. The coyote's eyes seemed to widen.

"And you live? Holy shit. Didn't catch a silver bullet or a syringe of wolfsbane?" he asked, seemingly genuinely impressed.

Wolfsbane Security. It made sense now, of course. Their symbol was a wolfsbane flower.

"I could've guessed silver, but wolfsbane too? I'm not up to date on our weaknesses yet," I admitted.

"Well, there's a few. Silver will outright hurt and kill you. Wounds caused by it heal as slowly as they do with humans. Wolfsbane won't kill you, but it will put you out of action, a bit like pepper spray, and in a high enough dose it'll revert your shift temporarily. That's what they put in those antipsychotics at Ambicorp, if you didn't know, in processed form," (t)he hacker explained. He talked a lot. I hoped he also knew a lot and wasn't simply making it up.

"Fire won't do much to you physically, but seeing it might trigger your flight reflex," he continued. "You know, animals and fire. Fireplaces won't, but a flamethrower almost certainly will make you panic. That's not always good for the attacker though, because you might also go completely berserk."

I processed this additional information. "Anything else?"

"There's trivial things, but those are the important ones," he said. "Man, they didn't tell you much. Well, you know about the full moon?"

"Not beyond that any moon causes the shifts," I admitted, again.

"The full moon is a good thing. It makes us stronger than usual. Under a full moon even I could tear the cannon off a tank. You..." he pondered. "Well, it'll be full moon when we go in, so you'll see."

"But enough about that. We're going tomorrow night. You have until moonrise to prepare, and we're going as our cursed selves. Until them, maybe one of you ladies would like to get to know me be- hrk" he started, smirking that coyote smirk, when one of the women grabbed him by (be remove)the throat and (t remove)he went tumbling down the floor.

I suppose as a coyote he just couldn't help going looking for trouble. Additionally, some of my pack clearly hadn't been as successful as I in tempering their rage with human logic yet. Still, I let them fight; both would be recovered long before the night was over, and this was still training. I did, however, make a mental note to reprimand her later.

For what felt like hours, me and my pack sat together huddled for warmth. None of us felt much like going out tonight, instead talking about how we would do tomorrow's infiltration of Ambicorp. One of them had been sent scouting, the other woman - Johanna, I learned was her human name, but we ended up calling her Jo - and had seen what the facilities looked like. She was somewhat shy despite the curse, more of a scout, just as the coyote, but still with the physique of a werewolf.

"...the front's guarded by WB," she began after a moment's hesitation. "Those guys don't seem to be specifically prepared against werewolves; they have, um, light uniforms, no heavy armour like silver would be, so we can assume they don't have silver bullets either."

She spoke softly, but despite her shyness, we were her pack, and she felt confident enough around us, continuing:

"WB does do actual security stuff, but they also double as wolf hunters. Um, this is something Stephen told me, I didn't find it out for myself, but," she paused, ending in a mumble but catching herself and speaking up again. "I did see one of (one of seems off perhaps 'a')heavy guy come out for a smoke. They wear these, I think, silver-threaded Kevlar vests. I don't know if we can cut through them, but their necks aren't protected", she said, looking at us for feedback.

"So, attack the heads or feet, got it." I nodded, looking at my pack. They all nodded too, except Jackson.

"What is it?" I said, holding up a hand towards Jo to let her know I'd have to deal with this first.

"Ain't too keen on dying over this, alpha," Jackson said. I could tell he still hated admitting that I was the pack leader, despite not having converted him.

"Oh," Jo piped up before I could respond. "From all accounts I don't think we, um, I don't think we'll face that much resistance. Ambicorp hasn't been targeted before, not by any heavy attacks. They don't have that many guys on-site. If we're quick, we'll be in and out before the heavy WB infantry shows up."

I asked how she knew that. She said they'd tested their alarm by deliberately breaking a window. It'd been fifteen minutes before several Wolfsbane vans came screaming in, and those had been full of the heavy troopers. On the location, she said she only saw about five light guys and two or three heavies. It'd been reported as vandalism, so they probably didn't know anything.

"Smart thinking," I complimented her. "And Jackson? None of us will die. Keep your head on your fucking shoulders and we'll be fine."

He nodded, not saying another word. During a pause in the conversation, I realized the sounds of the other female and Kevin fighting had stopped, replaced by rhythmic thumping. I knew exactly what it meant, but with how much stronger she was than the coyote, I figured it was consensual. There was simply no possibility of him overpowering her.

It was, however, both embarrassing to listen to and caused my own sheath to swell with arousal at the thought of sex, again. My rescue came in the form of Stephen, who returned after the night's earlier events.

"You," he snarled, pointing at me. "Outside."

He wasn't angry: this was how he always acted. I followed, ears splayed. He took the alpha and omega thing more seriously than most, and he was definitely my alpha, so I show him he required deference.

When we got out into the chilly, air, carrying with it smog from the inner city, he turned to me. This was the most serious I'd ever seen him look, and he was a serious wolfman.

"He's at a safe place. You will not go after him," he told me, in no uncertain terms.

One day, I would. But I said that I would not, and it was true, I wouldn't do it now or tomorrow, but one day.

"If you go after him, I will tear you limb from limb until you don't regenerate anymore, is that understood?"

I nodded again. But my confidence was growing, as was my knowledge of Stephen. That was an empty threat, but there was a good reason for him to make it; I couldn't risk my partner's well-being or tomorrow's operation just for... what? There was nothing to gain. I told him not to worry, but asked how they knew he was safe.

"Emily's with him. They're getting him settled with a different pack. More new guys," he spoke tersely. "Have you talked with your pack about tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yes, although Jackson seems hesitant, and Kevin more concerned with-" I began.

"Jackson will fall in line, I've met his type before. Kevin won't, but he hates Ambicorp more than he loves mischief. He has personal reasons, and I trust him fully, so you will too", he commanded. I nodded.

We didn't say much else out there. We looked at each other, sizing each other up as I was discovering lycanthropes usually did. But we shared a bond, and not everything needed to be said. I felt that he was a little worried about me. He probably felt the same way.

The wind was starting to pick up again, bringing with it an ever-increasing flurry of snow, and it'd probably become a blizzard by the morning. I thought briefly of the poor souls I'd seen in that grimy alleyway, but right now, I had more important things to think of. A blizzard would serve us well when we broke into the Ambicorp labs. It'd conceal our ingress and egress both, and it might make the guards lazier, less willing to be outside in the freezing cold. For a werewolf, such cold was no problem; our body temperatures were high and our pelts thick, but for a human it was miserable.

This also brought with it a problem; our own morning. It was going to be a very frigid day, and we'd shift back into human form soon. We'd have to huddle up for warmth, which might be awkward but still necessary. Luckily, we had plenty of blankets and ragged and torn clothes to cover ourselves with. As always, the concept of being intimate with someone - even if initially non-sexually - started to become arousing to me. The wolfen body was almost too sexual, too virile, too willing to fuck anything that moved. It was becoming a minor distraction, albeit not an entirely unwelcome one. After all, mating with my packmates probably served to strengthen our bonds. Still, for all the raw, primordial sexuality it brought, my preferences were unchanged, and I'd assume the others' were, as well. I still only liked males, at least consciously. The coyote seemed to be straight, and I had no idea about the others. As much as forcing myself of any of them pleased me as an idea, I didn't want that to become a rift between us, especially not one that'd leave me stabbed in the back at Ambicorp and left to be captured. It would be an exercise in resisting temptation, in collaring the cursed instincts with what was left of my humanity.

When we went back inside, we found some asleep, in particular Jo and Kevin, who were sleeping separate from the others. The smell of sex was in the air. Jackson was pacing back and forth looking angry or worried - it was hard to tell which from his body language. The remaining wolves were still sitting there discussing their experiences so far. The scene reminded me of some tribal place from bygone times, in which nights would be spent telling stories, traditions passed on orally and never written down.

Silence fell as I entered the room, however, followed by Stephen. Even Jackson stopped pacing, seeing us, the two leaders - or perhaps even two alphas - enter. We repeat(ed) our plan to them, and they listened. Then, before the sunrise, it was time for sleep. I had wanted to leave Jo and Kevin in their own room, but Stephen insisted that we all sleep in the same group, and when my alpha commanded, I had to obey. He ordered us into positions, and, I don't know why, but he decided not to sleep next to me but rather Jackson. I felt a pang of sadness, sure, but I could almost guess why. I had to sleep next to Kevin, which bothered me, as he still smelled of Joanna and his own seed, which was arousing, sure, but I didn't exactly like him. On the other hand, he made Jo sleep far away from Kevin, probably smelling the same scents that I did and wanting no repeats of that.

We were paired up, but ultimately all fairly close to each other, and as we laid down, we covered ourselves with all the fabrics available. Blankets, some curtain, clothes, all worn but at least a little warm, and that was it for the night; tomorrow, we'd fulfil our greater task. I wrapped my body around Kevin's, drawing a little chuckle from the easily amused coyote, and we went to sleep, awaiting the next morning.

Or so I thought. I stirred from my sleep still in my wolfen shape only an hour or two afterwards. The air was getting colder, but I hardly noticed that. Instead, what woke me up was the fact that the tricky coyote had positioned himself behind me into a spooning position, and I felt his hardness pressing into my thigh rather acutely. At first, I thought he was merely sleeping and having dreams of sex, but then I felt him caress my side with his paw, tracing his stubby claws through my fur.

Apparently I had misjudged his straightness.

He was snuggled up to me in a way that suggested warmth for anyone who might've been observing, but under the blankets his hips were softly grinding into my rear, and I could hear his heavy breaths - feel them right on the nape of my neck - too. I quietly growled at him to stop, afraid of waking the others, but he didn't respond. Instead, I merely felt his body shake a little as he suppressed another of those chuckles. He licked my furred neck and I felt shivers run down my spine at the warmth of his tongue.

I was supposed to be the - at least secondary - leader here and this coyote thought he could fuck me right in the middle of my own pack? I could've easily turned around and forced him to stop, but my pack needed the rest, so for all my strength, I couldn't do much. I struggled, but his arms were wrapped tightly around my chest. I felt the burning heat of his rock-hard erection against my ass, but I kept my tail down; he'd have no luck here. I'd punish him in the morning.

But then, I felt him reach with his jaws and suck one of my ears into his muzzle. His tongue along the very sensitive inside of it make me instinctively relax, it felt strange but amazing, and he stuck it deeper, licking inside my ear and up towards the tip with his just slightly raspy tongue. I shuddered. I hadn't even known my ears were this sensitive, but apparently Kevin had guessed they might be. Maybe they typically were for us wolves.

Then, he nibbled on the cartilaginous parts of my ear, gently. Very gently. I barely felt his teeth pinch the nerves, but it had my own cock pushing out of its sheath before I knew it, sending those pleasurable vibrations throughout my body and relaxing my muscles like a good massage. I heard him whisper something but couldn't hear what, but his hot breath felt good against my saliva-wettened ear. I couldn't even resist as he moved my tail aside, nudging his canine length in between my cheeks, threatening to slip into me if I tilted my hips just a little.

He kept caressing my body with one hand, stroking my side in a soothing manner while sucking on my ear. The paw kept closer to my own cock and then enclosed it in a firm grip, pushing back the sheath and leaving me vulnerable to his groping, fully erect and suddenly dripping precum under the blankets and our combined warmth.

I had to stop him. I tried to focus my thoughts to throw off his attempt at seduction. But was it such a big deal, really? He wasn't part of the pack anyway, it wouldn't risk my position, and it felt really good. Maybe I should just let him take me like he took Jo earlier. Let him mate me like another bitch. My own thoughts were betraying me, surrendering to those strengthened base instincts of my animalistic shape. I knew I had to be a strong leader, but who said leaders couldn't enjoy being mated now and then? Emily was a leader, too, and she was female. Why would I be any less of a leader for giving into this pleasure?

I couldn't help it, try as I might. I moved my hips, my tail staying out of the way on its own now. He felt that and instantly responded with another unheard whisper, his body moving in response, so his pointed tip slid down between my cheeks and caught just on the tailhole. Just at my opening. He squeezed me tightly and bit down just a little harder on my other ear. Then, he gave that little thrust, that little push, and his cock spread me open, sliding into my body with no resistance, just as it was designed to do. Damn that tricky coyote.

He sunk all the way into me, deliciously slowly, and I loved every inch of cock penetrating me. The euphoric sensation of him alternatingly nibbling my ears and neck only made it better. Soon enough, he was quietly grinding back and forth into me. He bucked into me slowly, building up speed as he went, with one hand sliding up and down my own length, making sure I was fully under his power for that one intimate moment of passion.

I held my own hand to my muzzle to muffle those mmfs_and _unhs as he rutted into me like I was his bitch. He'd pay for it later, but right now, I was fully willing to let the slim canine mate and breed me. If anything, it was over too soon; I didn't know how long he'd been humping me before he woke up, but before I could react, I felt the increasingly familiar sensation of a knot pushing against my squeezing hole. I tried to stop it, squeezing down hard around him, but the insistent pressure grew until he popped into me, tying us together.

With short, frantic thrusts now, I knew he was close to release and there was nothing I could do to stop it, so I gave myself to him fully. Soon enough, my cock was throbbing in his paw as my lupine seed sprayed onto the ground and soaked into our blankets, and with a soft grunt and growl, I felt him tense up, twitch, and then the warmth of his seed spread inside me, an almost tickling sensation, spurt after spurt traveling up his coyote shaft and shooting into my accepting body.

That's how we fell asleep, in our own mess, the smell undoubtedly noticeable to anyone else who'd wake up before us. I was too exhausted after my orgasm, and we couldn't move with him locked inside me, still dribbling seed from aftershocks. "Good boy," he murmured, and then laid his head down, snuggling tightly up to me as we both drifted off.

My last thought before sleep overtook me was that I'd get him back for that. Oh, would I ever. But I hadn't been wrong; nobody cared much that I was the recipient of a load of coyote cum. I was still the leader, even if I preferred the bitch role in the sheets.