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Brethren

By Kvyr

I was running away from nothing when I met the people who changed my life forever.

It was in a large diner, the only one in the secluded town of Hurlett, where fate caught up with me. The diner was the only place to go to unwind after a long shift at the lumber mill. I was a young man who kept his head down, minding only the hot meal in front of him and who left as soon as he was done. No one really noticed me and that was how I liked it.

Despite my determined efforts at isolation, three particular men noticed me.

The first was a handsome thick bodied man who was middle aged, but radiated a vibrant energy through his movements that belied his age. He had a warm, rugged face, with dark, steel gray hair neatly parted to the right that blended perfectly with his well trimmed beard. He was talking with some of my co-workers when he looked over at me. Our eyes locked onto each other. His eyes were the orange-brown color of an early sunrise over a sleeping forest. He gave me a warm smile. I could not help but return one back, breaking the stoic expression that was welded to my face those days. I thought he was going to walk over to talk, but all he did was dismiss himself from the gathering of my coworkers and walk out the door. As he walked by he gave me a friendly nod and another warm smile. I got back to my food, the memory of the large man's silent friendliness plaguing my mind. Was it just small town friendliness, or was it something more? I could not even remember the last time someone tried to make a pass at me. My thoughts darkened. It was not a good idea to think about looking for partners. I wanted to be alone.

The second took my breath away. It was a day after I saw the large man, when a Native American Adonis entered the diner. He made no effort to hide his sexy, smooth skinned body, hardly concealed by the form fitting beat-up jeans and jacket he wore. His shining black hair flowed around him with every movement he made. He had stridden into the diner, and set his dark eyes immediately on me. He leaned against the front counter, facing me directly, letting his beaten jean jacket open to reveal his shirtless, well toned chest. He smiled at me, his teeth pearl perfect. The stare he gave me lasted a few eternal moments until it was interrupted by a shrill voice coming from behind the counter. A waitress had asked the Native Adonis why he was here, and he reluctantly broke his eye contact with me to give a charming smile to the waitress, who seemed to know him. They had a brief conversation and I returned to eating my food, stifling any thoughts of pursuing any interest with the young man. When I heard their conversation come to a stop I looked up briefly to see him walking towards the exit, giving me one last smile and a wink before going out the door. Like the day before my mind reeled with possibilities. I knew there was a chance I was not the only gay man in town, but what were the chances of others picking me out of the crowd were I was not open about my sexuality? I passed it off. Maybe I was seeing things that were not there. Maybe I was over analysing. Besides it was best that I kept a low profile. I didn't need my life to be more complicated than it already was.

I hardly noticed the third one until it was too late. It was a day after the Native Adonis came in, and I was silently eating my food like always. I was shoving food into my mouth when I noticed movement right beside me. I looked over to see a young slender man, sitting next to me. His dirty blond hair was shaggy, his bangs creating a gentle veil that hid his sparkling, blue eyes. At first I thought he must be some kid, but the more I looked at him he seemed just a little more mature. He stared right at me, totally forthright and with no fear. His smooth lips drew into a slight smile, and he regarded me in a fascinated but sad stare. I had no idea how long we stared at each other, but he ended our silent introduction by standing up, and running a single smooth finger along my rough, jaw stubble and caressed the rowdy hair by my ear. He gave me one last gentle smile before leaving. I could not remember the last time I was touched like that. I glanced around briefly, and confirmed that no one had noticed. I wasn't upset because I was ousted, but I tortured myself wondering why I didn't say anything to him, or stop him when he touched me, or just simply asked him what he was doing. I was totally captivated by him, just as I was with the other two. A part of me wanted to laugh, and the other was reeling in paranoia. There was no way these strange people were a coincidence.

That night as I laid in my sleeping bag, I silently wished there was someone else there to keep me warm. In my struggles to sleep my wish kept on changing. The Warm Smile, the Native Adonis, and the Quiet Boy each had their turn hugging me with imaginary arms. Then the dark dreams came...

***

_A bright yellow light surrounds the tent. I get up from my sleeping bag, and walk towards the jail cell door embedded in the wall. I lean against the cold iron bars, trying to get the metal to cool my fevered head. Annette stood on the other side, the wrinkles in her middle aged face deep as knife cuts.

"He killed him!" She accuses me. She is talking to a police officer who stands silently in the darkness. "He was going to kill me. I know it. Bill was the perfect husband. He never hurt me." The hot rage sweeps over me. I want to spit on her. To tell her how pathetic she was. She told herself lies, horrible lies, and covered up for a monster. Her deep green mascara flowed down the wrinkles of her face. You are nothing to me woman, I want to say to her but my mouth stays shut. In the end she didn't matter._

I turn away from the wretched woman and look down at the floor covered in yellowing kitchen tile. There lays His corpse, His bones black-brown from rot. His mouth hangs in shock and pain. I hold up my right hand, clutching a rusted butcher knife stained by old black blood.

"You fucking bastard!" I yell at His silent corpse, "You killed her! You deserved it! You..."

My voice rises to a deafening roar.

***

I had jabbed the piece of bacon too hard, and the fork scrapped against the plate. I shoved the food into my mouth, not noticing the taste. All day I was less talkative than usual. The three interesting men from the days before were an afterthought. I fed my hungry belly, and tried to relax my work-worn muscles.

"Hey Ken," I heard a familiar voice, "Glad I caught up with ya."

I looked up to see my head foreman, Wilber. He walked over with a salute with his battered ball cap. He sat across from me, manoeuvring his ample belly between the seat and table.

"How ya doing?" Wilber's walrus-style moustache made it easy for him to smile.

"Fine," I lied.

"Look," Wilber sighed, "I hate to bring this up, but it seems we got a problem."

Inside my head alarm bells went off. I went to work instantly, forming plans to pack my stuff and leave town as soon as the conversation was over. Outwardly, my stoic face was unchanged. I let out an "Oh?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal," Walter said as I mentally cancelled my plans and the alarm bells got quieter.

"It's just," Wilber continued, "How long have been staying at that campground? Three months?"

"Ever since I got here."

"Yeah, well, the company is passing some new rules though," Wilber sighed, "Ken, you need a permanent address for them." He opened his hands in a helpless gesture.

"Alright," I said. "Can't I just get a mail box at the post office?"

Wilber's eyes squinted hard, and he let out another frustrated sigh.

I let myself chuckle, "They got it in for me don't they?"

Wilber's eyes widened in shock, "No! No! Not at all! It's just, you know, management being management is all. I don't want to lose ya, you're a good worker."

"Okay."

"We just got to get you a board somewhere..."

I shook my head, "I like the campground."

"Hey," Wilber gave me an alarmed look, "You proved your point okay? You're one crazy son of a bitch for staying out there in the winter like that. But I won't have that happen again," Wilber leaned in and spoke in a stage whisper, "My wife will kill me if I let a certain 'nice young man' almost freeze to death in a tent. Do it for my sake."

I let out a long sigh, keeping an assuring smile on my face. I was uncomfortable at the idea of living in someone's house, of being a burden to someone, but Wilber was being genuinely nice.

"Now," Wilber continued, "I haven't got around to asking people what's available..."

"Excuse me, Wilber?" A deep voice called from over Wilber's shoulder.

None other than Warm Smile walked up, giving Wilber and I a friendly smile. I felt my face return to its stoic preset as my suspicions went wild. Warm Smile was larger up close, dressed in a casual mountain man style, with a faded pair of jeans and blue and green plaid shirt that barely hid his beefy muscles.

"Hey there Abram didn't see you there." Wilber nodded to Warm Smile, now Abram.

"I'm sorry," Abram began, speaking in a warm tone, "but I couldn't help overhearing."

"Oh?" Wilber exclaimed in genuine surprise.

"It just so happens," Abram began, his orange-brown eyes setting on me, "That I have a room that I would be more than happy to give out."

"Well there you go!" Wilber exclaimed, chuckling at me, "Problem solved!"

Wilber's smile diminished as I started shaking my head slowly. It was all too convenient. Something was going on, but I couldn't tell what. I wanted to be alone. I didn't want to bother anyone. I was happy taking care of myself.

Was I?

"Now, now," Wilber blathered, "Abram here is a good guy. I can vouch for him. Big house, beautiful land, great fishing."

Despite my reluctance, I smiled, letting out a hesitant chuckle.

"As long as you don't mind hearing the wolves at night," Abram joked softly.

"Wolves don't bother me," I shrugged.

"Good," Abram said, an odd twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah," Wilber continued, "And Abe? I can vouch for Kenneth here. He's a good man. Good worker. He won't cause any trouble. You won't be seeing much of him in the next three weeks anyway. The mill's going into overtime."

An uncomfortable silence fell down amongst us as the two men stared at me. Despite my misgivings and my fears, something inside me, a spark of instinct, made me nod my head in agreement.

"Excellent," Abram said.

***

In a sentence it could only be described as the offspring born from a mansion and a log cabin. The large house was set deep into the lot, a winding dirt road shrouded by thick, massive trees led to it. Made from dark wood logs it was hard to believe it was only two levels high. The front yard was dominated by trees, while the back yard opened up into a huge, open forest clearing with a small lake at the end, surrounded by a wall of forest. When I first saw the house I thought it must have had a multitude of rooms, but when I entered it, I found instead of a multitude of rooms, there was a lot of open space. There were plenty of large, two-story windows facing the rear to let in the natural sun and moonlight. The middle of the house was dominated by a huge living room and kitchen area, facing the clearing in the rear. All the furniture seemed oversized and made of soft smooth fibres.

Abram gave me a short tour of the first floor, skipping the second floor with a dismissive wave of his hand, saying "Our bedrooms are up there, but yours is down here."

"Ours?" I asked.

"Oh yes," Abram explained, his warm smile never leaving his face, "I have two other boarders, Quinn and Lucas. You'll probably meet them tomorrow."

My bedroom was a comfortable place in one of the few hallways of the house. The walls were of thick wood panelling, giving it a rustic feel. A large double bed dominated the room, with a tall dresser in the corner supporting a long mirror on top of it. We had stored most of my camping gear in the garage, so I had only my backpack and duffel bags with all the possessions I owned.

I breathed in the warm, slightly musky air of the room. I was still uncomfortable with the whole situation. The last thing I wanted was to be a charity case, but I had to admit the place seemed comfortable and safe.

"Well, it's not much," Abram said as he sat on the bed. He patted the thick blankets on top of it. "I figured you wouldn't have much in the way of blankets and pillows, so it's all right for you to use these."

My first impulse was to refuse even the simplest of gestures, and if it were anyone but Abram, I would have insisted that he give me no special treatment. Not even some bed dressings. At the time he was some strange person I had just met, someone I should suspect of having some evil and violent intent for the charity he was giving me. Despite these feelings, I felt grateful, and I trusted him. I didn't know why.

"Thanks," I strained.

"Is it really that hard?" He chuckled.

I let him see my confused face.

"Is it really that hard to let me help you?" He revised with a sad smile.

It was as if he read my mind. Ignoring my paranoid thoughts I opened my backpack and brought out a thick wad of bills. "Here," I said as I gave the wad to him.

It was his turn to give me a confused look. After a few moments of feeling the money in his large hand he argued "I don't know how much is here, but it's too much."

"It's six hundred, and you're going to take every bill," I said stoically.

He was silent for a few moments as I opened my duffel bag and started taking out my clothes to put in the dresser. He said nothing as he continued sitting on the bed. I could feel him looking at me. Some invisible tension was building. I looked up to look him in the face and almost gasped. The warm smile was gone, replaced by an almost stern but understanding grimace, his orange-brown eyes flashing with conflicting anger and wariness. It was a look a father gave to his child when they did something wrong, when the father had to be angry at someone he loved. A father I never had.

"I'm saving this," he finally said. I was not sure if it was a command or a question. "For when you have a rainy day," he explained. He got up from the bed, keeping his stare on me.

"Kenneth," he began, "I want to be honest with you." I put up emotional braces. "I am very aware that my charity seems strange to you, but you should know that I am very genuine. I am honestly interested in helping you. There are no...strings attached. Alright?"

"Sure," I managed.

A bit of his warm smile came back to his face, "When I look at you I see someone who is in need of help. Someone who may not realize they need help."

I stood silent.

"I know we just met Kenneth, but if there is anything you need to talk to me about, anything at all, I'm here. All right?"

I gulped, my throat a hard rock. I did not know how to process all the conflicting messages I was getting. I managed to give a slight nod.

"Good," Abram said, walking towards the door, "I'll see you in the morning."

After he closed the door I worked on automatic, putting away my clothing as my mind reeled. I felt my heart beating, blood rushing to my ears. I didn't know if I should have been scared, aroused, or just plain confused.

The only thing I was sure of, and I didn't really know why at the time, was that Abram was as genuine as they came.

***

The next morning I woke from the first dreamless sleep I had in years. I had to admit to myself that I missed sleeping in a bed, especially one with a good thick mattress and topped with warm blankets.

Stretching, I walked over to the dresser, looking into the large mirror on top of it. It was then I realized that I hadn't seen myself in a decent mirror for years. My features are Nordic, although I had no idea where I got them. I have a strong chin and jaw, large nose and brow, handsome in a proud, strong warrior way. Although at the time the face staring back at me was anything but a strong, proud warrior. My dark brown hair was wild and random, a large wave coming down to threatening to obscure my left eye. My eyes are brown-green. I remember my sister saying they were the color of the leaves on the oak tree in our backyard.

I have a large boned body, good for supporting muscle, but at the time I was somewhat malnourished, and a bit too much bone was showing through my flesh. Too many years of half decent meals.

Leaving the mirror I went to the ground floor bathroom, which was just right down the hallway from my room. As I walked down the hallway I smelled the scent of sausage and eggs, and my stomach quivered. At my stomach's insistence I showered quickly, fighting off the hunger long enough to shave the thick stubble on my face.

Changing into decent clothing, I followed my nose into the huge living room area. I heard voices coming from the kitchen table, and I knew I was about to meet my fellow boarders. As soon as I saw who they were, I came to a sudden halt.

The kitchen table was set up in front of the generous kitchen nook at the far end of the living room, the large two story window basking the area in comfortable sunlight. Sitting on the left side of the table beside each other was no other than Native Adonis and Quiet Boy.

They were sitting there is simple t-shirts and shorts, like they just got up from bed. Native Adonis was the first to notice me frozen solid in the living room. He gave me a charming smile full of perfect teeth. A long moment after Abram came out of the kitchen with a plate of food.

"Ah, Kenneth, good morning," he said. He was wearing a dark blue housecoat, the top open revealing his thick, hairy chest. He put the plate of food down at an empty spot on the right side of the table, and went to sit at the head chair.

"This is Quinn," he motioned to Native Adonis, "and this is Lucas," to Quiet Boy.

Walking on thin ice I approached the kitchen table and sat down, hardly hearing Quinn's "Hey, how are you doing?"

I sat down slowly, looking between the three men sharing the table with me. I could find no normal explanation for the coincidence that was causing my brain to go into meltdown.

"Hey man," Quinn said, a concerned scowl replacing his charming smile, "is something wrong?"

Despite myself I started laughing. "Yeah," I found myself joking, "I'm expecting for a bomb to go off or something."

Abram's warm smile widened, while Quinn let out a confused "Whaa?" Lucas gave a small chuckle before going back to his meal. A few uncomfortable moments encroached on all of us.

"I'm sorry," I broke the silence, "just had a weird feeling that's all. I'm Kenneth."

"So I heard," Quinn said, returning back to the charming smile. Lucas continued eating.

"I saw you at the diner," I said, searching for clues to solve an unknown mystery.

"Oh, yeah," Quinn said, eating a forkful of eggs, not committing to admitting anything other than a sly smile as he chewed.

I looked at Lucas, "You too," I dug for more clues. His blue eyes briefly looked up, though his blond veil, to reveal a mischievous glint in them.

"Don't expect him to say much," Abram apologized, "Lucas has the habit of only speaking when he needs to," he explained. "I hope you like my cooking," he said, changing the unspoken subject.

"Looks good," I said, fighting back my usual stubborn nature to refuse such generosity. The food smelled too good to give up. While I ate, Quinn and I had a casual conversation, with Abram joining in off and on. Lucas sat there even after he finished his plate, resting his smooth face on his arms, listening quietly.

"So where you from?" Quinn asked.

"Just a suburb outside of Toronto," I told him.

"Really? You look like the country type."

"I've traveled a lot."

"Got family still there?"

"Sorry," I apologized, giving a smile that I hoped would mask the fact that I was avoiding the question, "I got to get to work," my head tilting towards the clock on the wall.

I glanced briefly at Abram. He still wore the same warm smile on his face, but his eyes were accusing me.

***

The strangeness of my living situation was quickly dulled by the routine drudgery of working 12 hour shifts for 7 days a week in a noisy, stuffy lumber mill. Whenever I would get back to my new home, I was too weary and sore to entertain any curiousness about my fellow roommates. The time spent on overtime became a ritual of sleep, eating, and working, with hardly any interruptions. But some interruptions did happen...

***

On a bright morning I was just finishing packing my lunch when I found Quinn leaning across the kitchen counter. I almost jumped in alarm because he had seemed to have come out of nowhere. He was wearing a loose muscle shirt and baggy cargo shorts, his charming smile etched into the smooth, tan brown skin of his face.

"Hey," he began, "why don't you call in sick?"

"Why would I do that?" I could not help but smile back at him.

"Well," he said, standing up and walking around the counter towards me, "Tonight some guys as the reservation are having a bonfire. Lots of good times, lots of dancing. I thought you might like to come with me and, you know," he moved forward, his face only a few hot inches from mine, "Unwind."

I gulped, "I wasn't made for dancing."

"Alright," he said, his breath hot and musky against my face, his dark eyes moving down to my lips, "Wouldn't you like to come to see me dance?"

The future possibilities of where the setup could go flashed through my mind in a millisecond. If I was a braver man I would have grabbed him there and kissed him with full force. I would have called in sick and let the Native Adonis take me on a wild ride that I had never experienced before. Then the dark clouds came, the hard facts of my past tainting anything I would try to endeavour for in the future. The dark clouds revealed that there was only one outcome if I followed him: Rejection. I could not let myself get involved with him. It would end in pain.

Swallowing my raging instincts, my face froze into its stoic mask. "No, thanks," I said flatly, "Maybe some other time." The mask hurt to wear.

I expected Quinn to pout or get angry, but instead he started laughing. He leaned against the counter, the fabric of the loose muscle shirt falling on his well-toned body. His luminescent black hair shone in the sunlight. "One day," he proclaimed, "You will see me dance."

***

By the second week the days seemed to meld together. I began to believe I would never get the smell of sawdust out of my skin. One evening when I returned home, I found the place oddly deserted. I ate a lonely supper, had a long shower, and went to bed. Unfortunately, I seemed too tired to sleep. Grumbling I got up, not daring to look at the clock to check the time and see how much sleep I was missing. Shambling with tired feet I made my way to the TV room and plopped myself on the plush couch, turning on the TV to some random channel. The program droned on as I felt my eyelids get heavier.

My eyes snapped open as I saw something move into the room. I turned my head to see Lucas, wearing only a pair of cut-off jeans, his bare, smooth skin shining in the random light coming from the TV. He strode towards me softly, his dark blond hair veiling his eyes, which I knew were set on me.

"Hey Lucas," I said slowly as he paused in front of me with a slight smile on his face. Without a word he climbed into the couch, pressing his lithe body into mine. It was so smooth and warm. Laying down on me, he put his head onto my bare chest, rubbing against my chest hair. I found myself breathing hard, my heart pounding against his ear. His reached out with his hand and felt the skin on my arm, caressing the hairs and skin. His other hand went into my thigh, feeling my smooth pyjama pants in an obvious caress. My mind was assaulted by the hot hardness coming from my crotch as he planted a light kiss around my lift nipple, causing my hair to stand up with erotic electricity. Then he rested, laying into my body like a hot, hairy pillow. Our bodies heated each other.

For a few eternal minutes we laid there, my mind slow from sleep and arousal. My defences were caught off guard. I found myself enjoying the heat coming from his body, the smooth embrace of his limbs. I felt his head beneath my chin and I felt comfort which I had never felt before. I sighed in relief, and found myself dozing to sleep. Then he moved, raising his head, and planted a soft, smooth kiss on my strong jaw.

Alarm bells went off. "Alright!" I said too loud as I got up, both my instincts and the hot hardness between my legs protesting as I forced myself up and out of his embrace. I moved quickly towards the hallway, the dark clouds forming my doubts and winning the day. I looked back at Lucas, expecting him to be mad or crying. Instead he was just laying there on the couch, making himself comfortable, and his head resting on a pillow where my body just was.

He looked at me, his ocean blue eyes shining with a sad light. He said nothing, but I got the message.

Come back anytime. I'll be here for you.

***

On the last week of overtime I had found a new state of depression. My mind was torn between the drudgery of work and my own rejection of two loving and undeniably sexy partners. The dark dreams had not plagued me for days, but that night they came back in full force...

_The large room is lit by a bluish light. Shadowy forms of half-men surround me, out of focus. I hear the distant sounds of yelling, swearing, the clamour of utensils and plates. Every breath I take brings a razor cut to my chest and the taste of blood in my mouth and nose. I look down and find the shiv buried in my left side, the end of a toothbrush handle sticks out of a small bloody wound, staining my orange coveralls. The tiny razorblade attached to the toothbrush handle is scraping against my left lung.

"Die faggot!" I hear him yell. I could not see him yet.

The fork is already in my hand. Just like before, I didn't care about the pain. I focus on the gray blob in front of me.

The blob melts and congeals into the memory image of Ricardo, complete with his shiny bald head, his Latin-style goatee, and his tattoos showing on his bare arms, the sleeves of his prison coveralls ripped off._

He opens his mouth to yell again, but this time I don't hear him. A sharp, lowing continuous sound reverberates through the room. I cannot recognize it. Ricardo seems not to notice it.

"No fucking faggot fucks with me!"

Ricardo is grappling me, his hand pushes the shiv in. I answer with a roar, and like the last time, I plunge the fork in my hand into the right side of his neck. The prongs pierce the flesh, dig against the hard cartilage of his throat. With a growl I push harder, ignoring the screaming icicle pain coming from my chest. Blood spurted as I hit artery. He doesn't notice until it is too late. He tries to say something but all that comes out is blood and bile.

I let myself fall. Let the darkness come around me. I hear her voice again. "Murderer! He murdered him!" I want to tell her to shut up. She was nothing to me.

I was standing in the kitchen with the yellow-stained tile, my young body quivering. The butcher knife falls from my hand, clanging against the tile, the sound echoing across time. I stare at His corpse on the ground, His chest bloody, His jaw opened in shock and pain.

"Just die," I pray, squinting through tears. "Die and leave me alone."

This was the part when I turned and walked out, but instead He rises like a corpse reborn, his face twisted with demonic anger.

"_I'm goin' to fix you boy," He slurs, "Fix you like I fixed your sister."

I am frozen as He reaches towards me, His hands rotting rapidly, becoming skeletal claws covered in brown and black rot. They squeeze my throat.

"Murder me will you?"

I can feel the claws dig in, the smell of rot and blood choke me..._

"KENNETH!"

Blood rushes to my head, my throat screams for air. Someone is...

"Kenneth wake up!"

My eyes open, only to shut again reflexively to the light shining in them. Someone with warm hands was grasping my shoulders. My body was covered in sweat. I blinked my itchy eyes to focus on the handsome bearded face of Abram, his orange-brown eyes deep with concern. He was wearing his dark blue housecoat and his hair was ruffled. He was sitting on my bed holding me.

"Kenneth," he said in a strong, concerned voice, "You sounded like you were being tortured."

"It..." was all I managed to say before my rough throat shut. I didn't want to share the images in my head. I looked away from that handsome face, shutting my eyes, only to be confronted with the afterimages of the dark dream behind my eyelids. I gasped sharply. Aaron's hands grasped more tightly.

"Why do you have such bad dreams?" He asked, his voice halfway between a question and a command.

I gave myself a few moments to breathe and think. Technically it was none of his business and I didn't have to tell him anything, but some strong instinct inside me wanted to tell him. The dark clouds of my past fought against my instincts.

"I can't tell you," I hissed.

I looked into his face to find him giving me a strong, sad smile. He lifted me up and embraced me with his thick arms pressing me into his warm chest. His musky male scent assaulted my nose. I sighed in contentment despite myself.

He kissed my forehead, "One day," he whispered, in part revelation and part command, "You will tell me. But right now," He broke the embrace and set me down on the bed. "You will sleep."

I did not fight him. I had a million questions and a million things to say to him, but I found my mind rushing back to sleep, obeying his soft command. My eyes slowly closed on his warm smile.

I did not dream again that night, but in the hazy blackness of dreamless sleep...

_I hear the sound again. The sharp, lowing continuous sound. My slow mind randomly thinks of running water, but my mind becomes clear with one brief moment of realization before it plunged into thoughtless sleep:

It is the howling of wolves._

***

In anti-climatic fashion the three weeks of overtime ended when I plopped on the living room couch with a contented sigh and took off my socks to air out my hot, sore feet. The mill gave most of the workers two weeks' vacation after the annual three week overtime. I didn't go with the crew to celebrate with a brew at the local bar. I just wanted silence and comfort.

I was dozing in half sleep when I heard someone walk into the living room and approach the couch. I could feel a large presence looming over me, but I didn't open my eyes. Suddenly I felt something hard and cold press against my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see a green glass bottle of beer resting on my shoulder.

"To freedom," Abram said with his warm smile. He was wearing his dark blue housecoat over his thick, hairy body. His muscular belly brushed up against my head.

"Thanks," I said quietly, sitting up and opening the bottle. The cold liquid flowed down my throat and quenched it, before I gave a brief grimace to the aftertaste I could never get used to.

Abram sat down of a large comfy chair set next to the couch. He opened his own beer, taking a drink and looking at me without saying a word.

Stealthily the end of another beer bottle came down and clanged against mine. "Cheers," Quinn said triumphantly, standing over me. He gave me his charming smile as he walked around to sit on the other side of the couch. Lucas strode behind him, and quietly sat on the edge of the couch next to Quinn.

For a few long, suspicious moments I sat there, beer held in front of me, frozen. I eyed each of the three men gathered around me. I kept wondering if it was genuine celebration or some kind of ambush.

"So," Abram broke the silence, "Now that you are free for the next two weeks what do you have planned?"

"Nothing really," I answered automatically. I didn't want another stretch of silence, "Thought about hiking some trails, doing some fishing or hunting. How is it around here?"

"Excellent," Abram answered, "I'd be happy to show you." His orange-brown eyes were full of invitation.

I just managed to nod.

"There's another bon fire party going on during the weekend," Quinn suggested, "You have to come."

"Sure," I let a small smile form on my face.

"I mean it Ken," Quinn said, suddenly serious, "I mean, I want to be honest," he leaned towards me. "I want to spend some time with you," his hand reached out and laid on my leg, "Get to know you."

I looked to Abram and then to Lucas. Abram still had his warm smile, and Lucas still had his soft smile. Nothing had changed. Quinn was coming on to me right in front of them and neither of them seemed threatened or put out. I began to think that maybe I had it all wrong, but I felt sudden flare of frustration. The past three weeks had been a confusing hell. I had no idea what people's intentions were and where I stood in the whole picture

Setting down my beer I stood up and faced them. Their eyes all shone with surprise and anticipation, but they kept smiling their smiles. It was kind of creepy.

"Alright," I said, letting the anger bleed through, "I had enough of this." None of them said anything. "Each one of you has...I don't know...made your interest in me really clear. I can't be that naïve." None of them said anything to confirm or deny. They just kept smiling.

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to get involved with any of you, not while we're all living under the same roof. You know," I paused, trying to get the best words, "I think it's really...unfair...that you put me in this position. I don't like having to be the one that has to choose. To have to be the one to ruin it for everyone else."

For a few milliseconds my anger was simmering, silently cursing the way they just sat there and smiled. Then, almost in union, they started laughing. A light, sad chuckling shared between them. I fumed.

"How do we best explain this?" Abram turned to Quinn and Lucas.

Lucas was the first to move, sliding down the arm rest and pressing his body into Quinn. Reflexively the two men embraced each other, their faces hardly an inch away as they shared smiles. With their hands caressing each other they kissed, melding lips together, their throats pulsating to give a hint of what they were doing to each other's tongues. I hardly had the time to drop my jaw when Abram got up from his chair and moved in behind the two men making out. With his huge, hairy arms he embraced them both. They broke their kiss with a wet slurp, looking up to the large bearded face above, looking down at them with genuine love and lust. The two young men gave the bearded face a light kiss almost in unison, then touched their heads together. Abram rested his chin of the two heads of his lovers. Three sets of eyes looked at me with lustful, mischievous charm.

Shock had frozen me. Slowly my muscles started moving again as my brain dealt with the tidal wave of information. I turned away from the sight of the three lovers, using a nearby chair for support.

"Man," I heard Quinn say, "You just won the lottery."

He was right. I had a chance to get involved with something that was totally weird and wonderful. Something people only dreamed about. Something that was considered a fleeting erotic fantasy. It was right there. I could be with them on that couch, embracing each one of them. I could love each one of them, and they could love me. It wouldn't be perfect, sometimes confusing, but it would be wonderful. It would be a family I never thought I could have. I could get close to them, know them, and love them.

But then they would get close to me. They would get to know me. And once they found out the truth...

I wanted so much to try it out, but the dark clouds of my past came back on me. Like a fortune teller they showed me the future. At first it would seem wonderful, erotic, and exotic, but then the truth would be revealed, and each one of them would reject me. Just like the others. Just like the ones I shared my feelings with. They would try to make it work for a while after they learned the truth, but, eventually, they would turn away from me in revulsion.

My thoughts must have been transmitting loud and clear because each of them had a look on their face of confusion and concern. Quinn separated himself from the embrace and walked slowly up to me. He looked back briefly to Abram, who nodded softly back, a serious grimace on his face.

"I know it's kinda weird," Quinn started softly, "There are other things that we have to tell you, but," he smiled nervously, "You have to be feeling it, don't you? That little voice inside you saying that this is a good thing."

"No," I said without thinking, my voice hard and forceful.

Quinn flinched, a flash of anger shown in his dark eyes, "Why?"

I thought hard on my answer. I could just leave then. Pack my things and avoid all the pain and rejection. There was something inside me, a quivering in my stomach, telling me to stay, telling me of the true fact that I did not know what I was going to walk away from. My shameful fear got the best of me, and the poisoned words poured out of my mouth.

"I don't deserve it."

Before anyone could say anything I walked out. I walked out of the living room, leaving the possibilities behind me, like a cut starting to bleed. Despite my dark determination, I found myself walking past my bedroom and going outside to the large porch overlooking the clearing. I leaned on the railing looking into the sky as the sun set.

The sun setting in the sky, casting purple-red rays against the approaching black-blue sky was either the dark coming to swallow any hope, or the lingering chance to do the right thing.

***

I don't know how long I stood there leaning against the railing watching the sunset. My mind was sore and numb. I was emotionally clogged with anger and sadness. Too angry to cry, too sad to go on a rampage. My temper cooled with the slight evening breeze.

I heard the patio door slide open and close. "Kenneth," I heard Abram's strong, soft voice, "It's only me."

I didn't turn around to face him. I didn't want to turn around to face him. At that moment he had to make due by talking to my back. I couldn't stand to look into those comforting orange-brown eyes of his. I felt those eyes bore into the back of my head.

"I respect your decision," he started, sounding sad, "but first hear me out." I said nothing as he continued, "I haven't been honest about two important things. I'm going to tell you the truth Kenneth, and I hope that you will change your mind. If you don't, I will respect your decision."

I heard him step forward. "Firstly I'd like to talk about you Kenneth." My shoulders tensed up. "I will make this simple," he continued, "I know Kenneth."

My senses went on alert, and my head snapped around looking over my shoulder at him. He stood there, dressed in only his blue house coat, his beefy arms crossed over his large chest. His face was stern. His stance looked down at me. A father I never had.

"I know as much as an internet search of your name would tell me."

So he knew some of it. I felt violated and relieved at the same time.

"I know that, until the age of 16, you, and your older sister, were physically and emotionally abused by your father," he confronted me with the knowledge, I turned back around to stare at the sunset. "The police suspect that when you were just a toddler that your father had killed your mother, but they could never prove it."

"When you were 16, your sister decided to try to escape the hell you both lived in. She went to the authorities, and they decided to send her back into that hellish situation while they gathered evidence. The night the police escorted your sister back to your house your father killed her. Then he tried to kill you, but instead you managed to kill him."

This was all in the news, so long ago. I was not surprised he could dig it up. I let him continue.

"Your step-mother, out of some sick sense of outrage, told the police that you were the one who planned and carried out your father's and sister's murders. I don't know if the police actually believed her, but they did have to arrest you, and put you into a maximum security prison while you awaited trial."

It was all nothing new to me. There was a huge difference from reading it from a newspaper than to actually live it. I wondered why Abram was doing this. I figured it was because he wanted to show that he didn't care about my past. Unfortunately he did not know the full story. Nevertheless, he went on.

"When you were...incarcerated, you were involved with an incident with another prisoner. He stabbed you, piercing your lung, but you survived. He didn't after you used a fork to kill him."

Abram moved closer, "You were 18 when you finally went to trial. You were tried as an adult. There were lawyers making cases against you and for you. They drew it out for a whole four months until a jury found you not guilty of your sister's murder, and that you acted in self-defence against your father and the prisoner who attacked you."

"You were put into a psychiatric hospital, and that's the last thing that I could find out about you."

Silence hung in the air.

"Kenneth," Abram said in a softer tone, "I want to understand. I want to care for you and love you. More than anything you know. So do Quinn and Lucas. Your past does not scare us in the slightest. In fact, more than anything, it wants us to embrace you even more."

I felt his hot, strong hand take hold of my shoulder, "You don't know much about me, but I'll tell you this: I know death, I know tragedy, and I have seen evil in many different forms and I have dealt with them in similar fashion than you have."

I was shocked, and turned around to look into his face. It was hard and grim, it belonged to a warrior who had faced dark enemies and survived. His eyes had turned into a raging orange, they burned with a savage glint that caused my heart to thud and my mouth to go dry. It was a few moments until the fire in his eyes died down, and he gave me that warm smile that I known him for.

The realization hit me like a silent sledgehammer to the gut. This man was different. This man would understand me, embrace me for the person I was. In the past, after I had gotten out of the hospital, whenever I told someone the truth of my feelings they had rejected me. Not him. He wouldn't. He deserved an answer.

"I was in the hospital for four years," I explained, my voice cracking. Abram listened warmly, his eyes moist. "They poked and prodded me, as any good doctors would," I continued, "They kept on telling me about how I should be 'at ease with my past' and realize that it was just 'temporary insanity.' I was not insane, they told me. I had just lost it, and it was understandable why I did. The thing they wanted me to recognize is that, if I were a more 'mature and adult' person who was not under 'incredible amounts of stress' that I would have never did what I had did. They wanted me to tell them that, if I were able to make a second choice in how I dealt with the 'situations', that I would not have killed them. I fought for a while, but in the end, I lied to them. I told them what they wanted to hear and they believed it. I was 22 when they let me go, just released me with only the clothing on my back and some support money. I tried to go to college, forget my past, but it didn't work out. I've been traveling around ever since."

"The truth is," I told him, staring into his eyes, "I don't regret what I did." I swallowed the old anger coming up in my throat, "He killed my sister, killed someone I loved and who tried to get us both out of the hell he made for us, then he tried to kill me," hot tears threatened my eyes, "When I killed him, stabbed him God-knows-how-many-times, I was happy, as happy as a kid who's been through hell could be. I would do it again, if it meant I would be safe, if it meant that my sister's life was avenged," I was yelling into Abrams face, "It was the same when that bastard tried to kill me in the prison. He stabbed me, just because he wanted to prove how tough he was. I was going to be just another life he could take. He had killed before. I wouldn't let it happen. When I killed him I was safe. The people who would become his victims, just so he could stroke his pathetic ego, were safe." I felt my fingers dig into the wood on the deck. My fingernails cracked.

"I'm a killer," I confessed to the man with the warm smile, "I don't like to kill, but I have, and I will again if someone ever threatened me. People have told me I was sick when I told them how I felt, but I never felt sick, I never felt wrong. They said I was a psycho and would have nothing to do with me. Some would say they understood, but slowly they found excuses not to be around me, and ease me out of their lives. So I gave up trying to explain. I accepted that I was alone, and that no one would understand me."

I wiped away the stray tears on my face, and chuckled despite myself, "Guess I was wrong, huh? I've been pretty selfish."

I could tell he wanted to embrace me then, but he held back, "After what you have been through, you deserve to be a little self-centered," he said.

Abram let silence comfort me for a few moments.

"We need you Kenneth," he finally spoke, the voice of a leader, "We need you just as you need us. We need your devotion, your experience. When I look at you I see a young man with the heart of an old warrior. You have had your battles, and, if you join us, you will have many more, but we will be at your side, to support you. We will be your allies in battle and your lovers in peace. Please Kenneth, for your sake and ours, join us."

"What?" I asked softly, perplexed, "What do you mean? Battles?"

Abram's smile turned into one that held a secret that was on the verge of being let out, "The world is a darker place than you know. You have already seen some of it, hints of it. There are monsters out there, just as evil as the human ones you have slain, but more demonic and ugly. They prey on innocent people, they work to do evil and cause pain. There are also those who would seem monsters, but work against these evils. You are one of those people Kenneth. You were born to be an avenger and a warrior against the dark."

The words came slowly out of my mouth as my head shook slowly, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Abram let out a long sigh and stepped back from me. The lights from the house silhouetted his thick figure. With a smooth motion from his arm, his housecoat fell off his body. The man was built like a hairy brick house. Large slabs of pecs covered in thick greying hair that collected in the middle and ran down his thick, barrel chest to join the thick patch of pubic pair in his crotch, where his heavy, uncut member caught a bit of the light. I felt a hot hardness envelop my crotch as I marvelled at this great sample of male form, but then an ice cold splash of fear stabbed through my gut. Abram's body pulsed, the mass underneath his hairy flesh growing larger and into odd shapes. A creeping darkness seemed to envelop him, starting from where his body hair was the thickest. It took a brief moment for me to realize that it was not darkness that was swallowing his up, it was fur. Thick, silver fur sprouting at an instant rate, covering his entire body. He did not grunt in pain, in fact he let out a long sigh of pleasure as his face erupted in a thick, silver white muzzle. He soon stood over eight feet tall and half as wide. His legs had bent in on themselves, become thick wolf's legs. His toes were topped his thick, curving claws. His hands could only be described as paw-hands, with almost two inch long claws topping each thick-padded finger. His changes were complete in a mere millisecond. He shook his massive furred body with pent up energy, his head that of a wolf's, with large pointed ears and a thick, stout muzzle. His tail swished energetically behind him as he took one large step towards me. His eyes were a savage orange color.

"I am Abram," the werewolf announced, his voice deeper and huskier from the muzzle, "Alpha of the Eyes of Tyr pack. I have found you, Kenneth, to be worthy to join our pack. Join us, be our warrior and our lover. Accept me as your Alpha, your leader, and accept Quinn and Lucas as your packmates. You will be bonded to us, and us to you."

Abram, the werewolf, stood with absolute authority, his voice carried his words into an uncovered part of my soul that embraced them, that washed away any feelings of disbelief and doubt. I managed to move my frozen legs, and stumble into a nearby bench. My butt landed on the wood seat with a dull thud that echoed in the silence. My mind raced with strong, newly discovered instincts and a million questions.

All I could manage to say was "Huh."

***

Abram had chuckled, a motion that was oddly natural in his hybrid form. The more I looked at him the more I realized that This is Abram. He was not the human man I had known for the last month, he was this beautiful, monstrous, powerful being. He was the werewolf. He was totally comfortable in his werewolf body, more so than how he moved about when he had to wear his human mask. It is how all werewolves are.

He walked slowly, as to not frighten me. I was not afraid of him at all. I was intrigued. A part of me was even envious. He sat down next to me, a large furry tank taking up most of the seat. He put a large arm in behind me, giving me that warm smile that was more at home on his canine lips. Even with my pathetic human nose I picked up the wild, male musk that emanated from his body.

With no hesitation I reached out and felt the large pelt of fur on his chest, feeling the thick silver fur through my fingers. Half of me was confirming what I was seeing, the other half was totally aroused. Abram let out a pleasurable growl as my hand traveled down his chest, soft waves of fur slipping through my fingers. I paused in surprise when I got lower.

His member rested on his crotch, thick and full. The dark pink head was enveloped by a thick foreskin that was covered in soft, thin fur. The head poked out wetly, an exclamation point among the silver-gray fur.

"To be honest," Abram spoke in my ear, his hot breath cascading down my face, "It is usually not this...engorged. I can smell your obvious...attraction, and it is causing me to be...excited. In battle, it tends to be more...compact. So it is not an obvious target."

My mouth was salivating. I not only wanted it, I needed it. Some instinctual drive was driving my hand forward to grasp his hot member and...

"Wait," Abram ordered, crossing his large leg to obscure my sight of his maleness.

"I'm sorry," he said, "There are things we should discuss first."

"Yeah," I hated to admit it, "That's a good idea."

My practical mind came back, shoving away my strong instincts. The strangeness of the whole situation set in. Minutes earlier I was ready to leave and continue my life in loneliness and self pity. Only minutes later I was looking at a mythical being as target for sexual desire.

"Let's take a walk around the lake," Abram got up and I followed. The werewolf strode casually in the night, the moon was almost full, shining against his silver pelt dully.

I considered my first question for a long minute.

"Why does this seem so...natural to me? Why am I not trying to pull off your head or trying to find the zipper on your back? I'm looking right at you and I'm not doubting any of it."

"It's in your blood," he answered, "Your instincts have always been strong Kenneth. So far they have driven you to defend yourself against those who would harm you. Those instincts are made stronger by the Wolf-Blood inside you."

"Wolf-Blood?"

Abram sighed through his muzzle, "Today you would say 'It's in your genes'. Someone in your ancestry was a werewolf, and they passed the Blood onto you. We don't really know how many are out there who are 'Latent Bloods', but when we get near them, we can tell," he tapped a large claw on his black nose.

"That's how you found me."

"Yes. Even when we have to wear our human skin our senses are sharp. You were stinking of Wolf-Blood. I could smell you over the greasy cooking and the body odour. I could smell your arousal when you saw me. Just as Quinn and Lucas did."

"Where are they now?"

"I sent them away. I wanted to talk to you alone. It would be confusing for you to control your instincts if you had three werewolves you desired after in front of you. And I have doubts that the other two would be able to control theirs..."

"What do you mean? I mean, I know what you mean by the instincts. I can feel them now. But why do I feel so attracted to you right now? Why do I feel like there is something you have to give me?"

"And I feel the need to give it to you," Abram said huskily. He paused, and closed his orange eyes. He took a deep breath, filling his large lungs and let out the tension raging in his mind.

"Many Latent Bloods go throughout their lives never realizing what they could be," he began, more in control, "Opportunity never comes for them, because you can never become a werewolf without a sharing of true essence from another werewolf. The essence activates your latent blood, causing the transformation. Without the essence there is no werewolf."

"What exactly is this essence?"

"In my old pack, they have this ghastly ritual where the Latent is brought in on the night of the full moon, dressed in ritual robes, into a forest clearing. A werewolf elder would approach them, and cut their wrist with a blade," Abram shivered in memory, "They would pour their blood into a sacred chalice, and the Latent would drink from it." He sighed, "It was how I became Wolf-Brethren, at the age of fourteen. Scared the hell out of me."

"So that's what I got to do? Drink your blood?"

"Not quite," Abram said, a sly smile spreading on his muzzle, "There are others ways to receive the essence. It is transmitted through any of our bodily fluids, although some fluids are more potent than others. Saliva and sweat are by far the least reliable, blood is the usual medium but, I found, is not the most potent of all..." He deliberately trailed off, raising an eyebrow at me.

I thought for a moment. Bodily fluids.

My eyes widened, "You're shitting me!"

"It's quite symbolic isn't it?" He said as he drew me into his large silver furred body with a warm arm. Shamelessly I glanced down into his crotch, but I could hardly see anything because of the darkness. "The same fluid which gives us the ability to create new life is also the most potent for changing it."

I laughed, first beginning from a series of chuckles that quickly turned into a full laughing fit that echoed through the clearing. I heard Abram chuckling with me, the heavy fur of his thick chest dancing. The laughter came from a whole slew of feelings: lust, disbelief, surprise, and irony that needed to spill out before I could get back to the situation.

"So what you're proposing," I said, wiping away laughter tears, "Is that I give you a blowjob," I chuckled, "And I'm in."

"And swallow," he said without a losing a beat.

I laughed softly, my lungs still burning.

"It doesn't sound too bad does it?" He asked, reaching up with a paw-hand to caress my strong jaw.

"No," I admitted shamelessly.

His paw-hand dropped on my shoulder, ready to draw me in, when he let out a long growling sigh. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he said, "Believe me when I say I will give you the essence, it's just...we have some things to discuss first."

The Wolf-Blood inside me was raging. It wanted the essence. It was a thirsty man who had not had a drink for days. I gulped hard, fighting the instincts down. Prudence had to win out at the moment.

"Business before pleasure," I said.

"Exactly," Abram agreed reluctantly.

We walked for a bit before he continued talking, we were almost halfway around the lake.

"Right now," he began, "You see a very...romantic view of things. Our pack will give you love and support, will make you more powerful than you ever were. Our land will give you a place to rest and love. There will be many special, joyous moments you will have with the pack. But I have to be honest with you Kenneth," he paused, looking down at me with hard eyes, "The world you are about to enter has its fair share of darkness as well. You just learnt today that there are true werewolves in the world, so now it seems everything is possible doesn't it? I'll tell you right now, there are vampires, demons, witches, and the whole lot. It's a complicated world. Some monsters are as evil as they come, others are just as innocent as a newborn. Our pack, the Eyes of Tyr, are not only concerned with the safety of our territory, but also in the hunting of evil beings and bringing justice to those victimized by them. We have forged alliances with other packs, and other beings. We have also made our share of enemies."

"Are all packs like that?"

"No," he said harshly, "Most tend to be just concerned about their territory and care little about the outside world. Many are very family oriented. Some are religious and some are very political. You will find that werewolves are just as diverse as humans when it comes to culture."

"How old is this pack?"

"I created it, several years ago when I left my old pack and found Quinn and Lucas. We all share common attitudes..."

"You're gay," I interrupted with a knowing smile.

"Yes," he said accusingly, "and so are you."

Abram could not help but draw me into his warm, furry body, his large hand-paw travelling a little too close to my butt.

"I made a pack that reflects my values," he continued, "Not only my sexuality. I made a pack that not only fights together, but loves each other. The bonds we share are stronger than an average pack. I admit fully that my own...lustful desires played a role in how this pack operates, but so far I have found no reasons why it is such a bad thing to have lovers and fighters as packmates. Also, I feel a strong empathy to others, even those not of my pack. Long ago, when I was young, I was told it was a weakness and that I should be more...cold-hearted. I rebelled against that thinking long ago, and still rebel against it today. Forming relationships, even the most simple and casual, can make all the difference when you face the great challenges in life."

"Makes sense to me," I said quietly, mulling over his words, until I realized something, "What if I wasn't gay?"

"I would have told the other packs about you," Abram admitted hesitantly, "To be honest, there would have been little chance that they would have accepted you and made you Wolf-Brethren. They have just as high standards as we do. It's a sad fact, but not everyone who is Latent-Blood, even if discovered, are automatically taken into a pack."

"So you would have let me drift by," I said, shivering at the stark chances life brings.

"Yes," he admitted, "But that's not happening. I'm not much of a theologian, but fate did have a hand in bringing you here. To be at that diner when I entered and not only smelled your Wolf-Blood, but you arousal at the sight of me as well. It was a chance in a million. I'm old enough to realize to grab a possibility when I see it."

I found myself hugging him as much as I could with my one arm, burying my face in his musky fur, totally oblivious to the surreal image of me walking along the lakeshore with a werewolf. I saw we were almost done circling the lake, and soon we would be returning towards the house. My strong instinct told me that when we got back to the house...

"Tell me about your old pack," I asked him, trying to force away the strong, lewd images in my mind of what was to come.

"They are a large family living in a large settlement near the Rockies," his voice trailing in memory, "I grew up in a different world than you. Even before I could read and write I knew there were werewolves, and I never feared them, because they were my father, my mother, my siblings, my grandparents, and all. It was normal for me to be at school with a large wolf that happened to be my uncle, watching over us. It was normal to be sung to sleep in the furry arms of my mother when I was little. It was not until I was fourteen that I was shown that my life would be considered strange by the 'normal' world. It was also at that age that I was made Wolf-Brethren. That's how it is for all of us who came from there."

"It was a content life, but very ordered, full of tradition and a strict sense of isolation. My family was the pack, and even when I revealed my sexual preference to them, they were...disappointed, but did not reject me. They just knew, as I did, that it was the first step until I would eventually leave them. It happens," he shrugged his shoulders, "to packs that get too large. I still have contact with them, but they will always shake their heads at the lack of tradition my pack has. Still, they consider me family, and I still care for them."

"I left them when I was eighteen, and for many years I travelled the world, becoming a sort of lone wolf. I met others like me, and others not. Met strange friends and battled strange enemies. When I got older I had that undeniable urge to settle down. I chose this area because it is a rough center of all the packs that I am friendly with. I've become a sort of ambassador when they have dealings with each other. I had money, more than I thought, made from my endeavours while I traveled, so I had this house built. I've been here ever since, and I've found it is just as exciting as when I traveled."

We had arrived on the porch where we started. I had been given the whole deal of what I was getting into. We stood silent in front of the patio door, the light inside shining on us.

"What can I expect?" I asked, "Will I...turn...right after?"

"Soon," he said softly, "It will take a full day for the essence to meld into your body and make you Wolf-Brethren."

"A day?"

He nodded, "The seed is quite potent. It took me a full week to become Wolf-Brethren when I only took blood. It will be a physical and mental ordeal. Your body will go through a rapid and drastic change, but when the moon rises tomorrow night you will be Wolf-Brethren."

Suddenly the patio door became a portal to a new life. When I crossed that threshold I knew I would be stepping into a whole new world. I looked at the beautiful, majestic silver werewolf in front of me. His warm smile beamed down on me.

"Alright," I said, "This is my first stab at this," I said quietly. In a louder voice I proclaimed, "Abram, I accept. I want what you are offering me and ask that you let me be a part of your pack. I accept you, I love you, as my leader, my...alpha. I will love and protect my packmates Quinn and Lucas, along with yourself. All that I ask is that you give me the chance, make me what I was meant to be."

"I have already given my blessing," Abram said, caressing my jaw with a gentle claw, "but I have only one request."

I nodded.

"When we step inside, there will be no words between us. Wolf-Brethren communicate as much through the body as through speech. Even move we make will be crystal clear to each other. Follow your instincts."

"Alright," I softly agreed.

Leading me with a large paw on my shoulder, Abram lead me past the patio door.

***

It was the first time I was shown the second floor. It was a very short tour. I was drawn quickly, both by my instincts and Abram's strong paw-hand on my shoulder, to the middle door in the hallway. The door led to the pack's bedroom.

The pack sleeps as a pack, and the large bedroom reflected that fact. Dominating the south wall was a huge window that looked out into the clearing, letting the sky fill the room. The centerpiece of the room was the bed. The bed was huge, shaped like a wide circle with the end squared off, covered in thick, soft dark red sheets, with several large, long pillows scattered over its surface. The room was lighted with soft, dim lights, giving the impression of never ending candlelight that encouraged the moonlight to come through and splash its silver glow off the creamy brown walls.

Impatient, Abram led me to the corner of the bed, where he sat down in front of me. Even sitting down, his canine head reached to my neck. He started by slowly licking my neck, and sniffing behind my ears, tasting me and smelling me. The wet, fleshy tongue licking me was only vaguely like that of an ordinary dog's. The licking he was giving me was energetic and erotic. With a trembling growl he ripped the shirt off my chest, tossing the remains aside. I was frozen with arousal, a man facing a pleasurable tidal wave and doing nothing to avoid it. He groped and licked my torso, sniffing under my arms and giving hard licks to my nipples. He ran his paw-hand through my chest hair, which seemed so pitiable compared to his immense pelt. I started to melt to the erotic energy coursing through me as he started licking down my treasure trail, lathering the line down my pecs down to my bellybutton. The alpha let out a frustrated growl when he came to my belted jeans.

Not wanting to delay him, I moved quickly to undo my belt. He gave me a quick smiling glance before he tugged down my jeans, taking my underwear with it. I shuffled my feet quickly to get out of my socks, his paw-hands smoothly caressing my bare buttocks. My cock sprang up hard and full, surrounded by a mass of dark pubic hair. With no hesitation the stuck he muzzle into my crotch, inhaling deeply. His hot, steamy breath tickled my inner thighs. I grabbed his head with both hands, encouraging him.

He gave my cock one, long slurping lick, tasting my maleness. I gasped as the single bolt of erotic lightning shocked my body. I let out a weak moan as the slurping continued. I was convinced I would lose it right there, my toes digging into the thick carpet.

He looked up with savage, lustful eyes and smiled. I weakly smiled back as he embraced me, smothering me with his thick, furry body, my cock rubbing hard against his meaty chest. For several moments we were together, his massive head resting under my chin, his muzzle letting out heavy breath that traveled down my naked chest. Then I became aware of the long steaming hot hardness pressing into my inner right thigh with every breath he took.

He broke our embrace and with a brief glance to his blazing, lustful orange eyes I looked down to see he cockhead staring at me from below, beckoning me. It glistened with hot, musky moisture, almost as thick as a beer can.

With a long, beckoning growl Abram lifted himself further onto the bed, grabbing one of the large pillows to lay his massive back on. He spread himself out, opening his arms and legs to allow me to see him in full glory. He was a silver canine god. His thick beefy muscles bulging through the thick, silver fur. His muscular belly pillowed the thick, foot and a half long cock, bulging with wet pinkish glory out of his thick, dark foreskin. My mouth was dry, and my body seemed oddly cold and empty. His body was the only source of heat that could warm it.

With frustrating slowness I let myself fall on him. The world was getting cloudy, reality bleeding into dream as I dove my head into his chest. My human hand, small compared to his massiveness, grasped the thick organ between his legs. I moved down, letting my face slide through his fur, his paw-hand resting gently on my head. Finally his wet, thick cock grazed my face, and even with my pathetic human nose I became instantly addicted to his steamy, hot musk. Starving, I licked the shaft, and knew that my efforts would be futile to engulf it. It was too large.

Determined I grasped the shaft with both hands, stroking it, sliding the thick foreskin over the organ. It pulsated with musky warmth. I could have worked it like a pump, but I had an alpha to please. Stoking slower, I pressed hard on the glands where he was most sensitive. A pleasured growl answered my efforts.

I let go of the blistering shaft with my left hand and traveled down to his peach-sized balls covered in dark silver fur. I squeezed them gently, feeling them pulsate with the essence that my body desired.

My head dropped down and I kissed the top of the cock, sucking around the head, sticking my tongue into his piss-slit. I was rewarded with a musky sampling of pre-cum that sprayed thickly onto my willing tongue. The small bit of essence tasted of ancient purpose, and my body wanted more.

My body worked automatically, timing my strokes and sucking to the pleasure growls coming from my alpha's body. I was numb to the burning pain of my muscles and slick sweat beading down my forehead. I was a man on a mission, and time faded away to frustrating hunger. It took me several moments to realise when the warm, sweet liquid hit my tongue. I let out a triumphant moan that was swallowed by my alpha's roar of release.

I was only vaguely aware of Abram's panting as I slurped up every white glob of essence that erupted and flowed down his pulsating member. I silently cursed myself from having such a small tongue, and narrow throat. I wanted it all.

Then the warmth started. It surged in my throat and tinged my lips were the white, sweet essence flowed. The warmth reached my belly and erupted, numbing my body. I released my alpha's sagging member, my eyes becoming cloudy and unfocused as ancient energy coursed through my body.

With a soft "Whaa?" I broke my promise to be without words to my alpha. He didn't seem to mind as my body went limp and I fell down into his arms. The world was fading around me, the warm energy beckoning me to rest as it worked its miracle. The last thing I felt was his loving arms embracing me. He said something soft into my ear, but I was too far gone to make sense of the words.

The dreams came to claim me.

***

_Dirty, torn running shoes walking on a cold sidewalk. My running shoes.

I am walking home. I never liked walking home. Being a nobody at school was better than being the somebody at my home.

I was a large, gawky teenager, wearing old, second-hand clothing. My dark brown hair was messy and wild, my facial hair spiky and erratic. With more food and care I would have been a contender for the high school football team's quarterback, but instead my muscles clung close to my bones._

The sky is a dismal grey. The neighbourhood is a orderly sea of faded white paneled houses.

As I walk up the driveway I thought I saw something dart away from the back of the house and into the woods behind it. It looked like a black furred wolf.

"Strange," my adult self says to my teenage self. "I never remembered woods behind the house." The teenage self is silent and continues walking. The sun shined brightly over the woods, contrasting against the greyness of the neighbourhood. How I wanted to run there...

Memory and dream fight as my teenage self walks fatefully up the cracked stone steps to the front door. This was the day I came home to find my sister murdered in the bathroom. This was the day He tried to kill me. This was the day I killed Him.

My teenage self opens the door.

I am standing in the small, dirty hallway. I look down at myself. I am my adult self, naked as the day as I was born. Uninhibited, I continue down the hallway. It stretches out for eternity. "The hallway was never this long," I complain to the faded yellow walls.

I can hear the far away echo of painful cries. I stride towards them. I am ready to face Him again if I have to. Suddenly I come upon a old wood panelled door set in the wall. I open it and enter the living room.

The yellowed walls melt away to thick wood panelling. A large red brick fireplace dominates the room; a tattered brown recliner sits in front of it. It was His chair. The chair He would sit in all day and drink. Someone is sitting in it, his head visible about the top of the recliner, silhouetted in darkness.

"Hi, Son," a deep voice calls from the chair.

"I'm not afraid of you," I confront Him. "I've never been afraid of you ever since that day."

"I would hope not," He says as he stands up from the recliner.

It is Abram, wearing his dark blue housecoat over his beefy body. He smiles his warm smile, his are canines pronounced. His beard is larger, silver mingling with black hair. His eyes are blazing orange like the fire blazing behind him.

I sigh in relief.

Suddenly I am on a large comfy couch with Abram sitting next to me, facing the fire. He reaches around with his right arm, covered in thick patches of silver fur, and embraces me. He kisses me wetly on the forehead.

"If only I had been your father," he breathes into my ear, "Would you have liked that?"

I thought briefly. My tongue suddenly burns with the memory taste of his seed. "No," I say softly.

"Yes, of course," he says slyly in his deep voice, "You need me for...other things."

Then he is gone. I sit on the couch alone. A simple white door appears in front of me. Without hesitation I enter it.

I'm in a fairy tale bedroom, with smooth, clean cozy white-blue walls, and three semi-circular wood paneled windows lining the long wall in front of me. Underneath each window is a bed. The one to the left is the largest, the next one is average, and the last was small.

"Well, well, well," A growly deep voice chides behind me. I turn to find Abram there, totally naked in beefy, furry glory. His face is half-wolfish, his mouth sticking out in a slight muzzle, his orange eyes blazing with lust. He licks his sharp teeth with a wet, thick tongue. His body is huge, his belly more pronounced and round, covered in thick, silver fur. His cock, thick and long, stands obscenely erect past his nipples.

"Seems a lost pup has found my bed," he growls, advancing on me, extending his large, clawed hands, "Naughty, naughty pup."

He presses against me, his enormous cock presses against my lips. He licks my face like a desperate dog. "Yes," I say huskily, "Teach me a lesson Big Daddy."

Suddenly I am on all fours on the large bed; my hands grasp the sheets as he rubs his large, hot cock along my ass. "Yes," he growls lustfully, "I think I have some use for you pup. Get ready..."

The huge glands press against my ready asshole, when a loud, shrill "Ding!" sounds in the air.

"Oooooooh!" exclaims Abram with exuberant eyes, "My muffins are done!"

The hot glands left my ass cold as he walks away. "Hey!" I cry out in frustration, falling off the bed. "Come back!"

I rush towards the door to enter a fairy tale kitchen. The birds sang happily out the small stain-glass window over the simple, quaint sink and stove.

"Abram?" I call out. No one is here. I smell burning. There is smoke coming from the oven. "Abram?" I call again, "You're muffins are burning!"

I open the oven to be confronted with a huge burst of flame that engulfs me. I feel slick sweat erupt from my body as I cover my eyes. The fire surrounds me.

Then the fire is in front of me. A huge bonfire in the middle of a dark abyss. I can hear the burning wood crack and smoulder. Crickets chirp nearby.

"Hooka Hey!" A wild cry calls out.

I look around madly and see nothing but darkness and flame.

"Hooka Hey!" The cry calls out again.

A smiling face melts out of the darkness on the other side of the bonfire. Quinn erupts out of the darkness, dancing smoothly around the flames. His body is covered in a thin layer of brown fur, slick with sweat. A flailing wolf's tail dances above his smooth buttocks. His shining hair is a black wave, pointed wolf ears sticking out at the top. He is totally nude, his constantly moving body giving me only fleeting glances of his large uncut member. His eyes shine with a yellow intensity, his face slightly wolfish with pronounced fangs and black nose. He has red war paint on his face, is thick bold stripes.

"Hey there cowpoke," he says slyly as he pauses in front of me, panting.

"Say, cowboy," he leans his wet, smooth body into mine, "I seem to have misplaced my loincloth. I'm sure a brave, smart white man such as yourself could find it for me," the mischievous grin widened, "Unless of course, you don't want to..."

"Oh, come on," I chucked.

"Hey," Quinn shrugs his shoulders, "I don't really care if your sexual fantasies are not politically correct," He leans in, his hot mouth touching mine, "As long as I'm in them."

We kiss. It feels wrong, like hot, dry cotton. Quinn breaks it and looks over my shoulder.

"He's a real killjoy isn't he?" Quinn growls.

I look and find Him standing in the darkness. My father stands there, a skeletal corpse covered in brown-black rot. His eyes shine with malevolent red.

A growl erupts from my chest. I flex my hands, ready with strong talons. "I'll take care of him," I grow again through sharp canines.

I step forward to confront the monster, but I am stopped by the strong hand holding me back. I look back at Quinn, he face stone serious. "We fight together," he says, "We are pack."

I nod. Quinn nods back. Looking at the monster together, we charge.

A bright light blinds me. It dies down with the noise of far away voices and utensils scrapping against metal.

I am sitting at the prison cafeteria table, using my fork to play with the food in the tray in front of me.

"This is the day," I say to no one.

I look up to find Susan sitting across from me. She looks like as she did the day she was murdered. A skinny teenage girl on the cusp of becoming a woman. Her messy shiny blond hair, with dyed red tips, is cut short, with a single bang covering her left eye. She shares my strong cheekbones, but her jaw is pointed. She smiles at me with thin lips. Her dark blue eyes are moist. She is wearing her punk black t-shirt, stained with her life blood.

"I tried," she said, fighting back tears.

"I know," I answer strongly. I reach out to hold her cold, white hand.

She nods.

I look down to look at the fork in my other hand. I tense it, feeling the metal.

I look back up to find Susan has changed. She is as she would be if she grew up. A beautiful adult woman, with a strong figure. Her platinum blond hair shone brightly, her blue eyes sparkled. She wore a thin, veil-like dress. She smiles at me with strong familiar Nordic features with a feminine cast. Her hand is warm.

She lets go of my hand and gets up. She walks towards a forest clearing set in the grey-blue prison wall. A gentle wind comes from the clearing and brushes through my hair. Susan melts smoothly into the shape of a she-wolf, her pearl-white fur reflecting the sunlight. The she-wolf looks back at me with gem-blue eyes. Her face is content.

"You are beautiful," I breathe.

She is gone.

I stand up from the table. Everything plays in fast-forward as Ricardo challenges me, stabs me with the shiv, and I plunge the fork into his neck. Everything freezes as I take my hand off the fork, sticking out of Ricardo's neck. I look at the blood on my hand. My breathing brings cutting pain.

I let myself fall. I lay on the stone, cold floor as the world stays frozen. Among the frozen bodies of the prison crowd watching the spectacle of the fight, a slender, quiet figure walks. Lucas comes towards me, his slender frame covered in golden fur. His eyes shine ocean blue through the veil of blond hair covering them. He leans down, and I reach up to feel his round face. He kisses my hand softly with his pouty lips. Softly he straddles me, his slender nude body warming mine. His clawed hands wave over the toothbrush handle sticking obscenely out of my chest. He winces in sympathy as he gingerly grasps the handle and pulls it out with two fingers.

He lets me take a deep free breath before embracing my mouth with his. His kiss is warm and silky. His form dissolves, his warmth lingering on my body.

I raise myself, the ground no longer cold stone. The grass covered ground is warm and soft. I run. My paws tread the earth, my black fur waves through the wind. The forest speeds by. I leap across the river without a moment's thought. I smell Him before I come upon him. He lays there on the riverbed, His corpse rotted.

I stand there silently as the wind comes and blows over His body. It dissolves like ash, carried away by the winds of time...

***

When I opened my eyes I was looking up into a creamy brown ceiling lit softly with shrouded sunlight. I breathed deeply through my nose and suddenly I was confronted by an explosion of scents. I groaned and covered my nose and inhaled the dulled sweaty scent on my fevered hands.

"Take it easy," a soft, playful voice called from the right side of my head. Several fingers started to caress my thick hair. Fingers with long claws on them.

Slowly I released my hand prison from my nose and took a more careful sniff of the room. It took a few seconds to recognize the scents. My brain was using primitive programming lost long ago. I recognized the scent of sheets, dust, sweat, and other fluids. The scent of blackberries with a spicy hint of tobacco was the strongest of all. It was coming from the fur that my head was resting on.

I turned my head to look at the werewolf cradling my head in his lap, resting on a large pillow as I laid sprawled on the large bed. His muzzle was longer and more slender than Abram's, covered in tan brown fur. His eyes were golden suns eclipsed by shadowy darkness. He smiled at me, his long tongue hanging out of his mouth slightly. Even in his true werewolf form, Quinn had long, shining black hair that flowed over his firm brown furred body.

"Yup," Quinn said, stroking my face carefully with his paw-hand, "Just me here with you."

My voice came out harshly from a dry mouth, "How long?"

"Just ten or so hours. You were thrashing around a lot. Kept us up."

"You're beautiful," I said with a slow smile, reaching up with a heavy arm to stroke his muzzle. He licked my hand as it came close.

"So are you," he said, lifting up my head as he sat up. Slowly I rose with him. My nude body was hot and warm. My flesh seemed to pulse and itch at odd times.

"By tonight," Quinn commented, "You'll be even more beautiful."

I hardly noticed what he said because I was looking down at my body. Something was definitely happening. My muscles were more thick and pronounced, and my body hair had tripled in thickness. I gasped as I saw that my penis was no longer circumcised, a thick foreskin had grown over it. It had also gotten larger.

"Yah," Quinn said, stroking my shoulder, "Things are definitely going along for you." Softly he grabbed a bit of my hair and was able to pull it in front of my eyes. My hair was not long before, but now it was more than shoulder length. It also had changed to a definite black color. "This is what you'll look like when you're in human form," Quinn told me.

"So," I said, "I'm not able to...change...yet?"

"Nah," Quinn shook his head, his black hair dancing softly over his shoulders, "Not yet. Soon though."

"Come on," he said, patting my leg, "Let's go have a shower."

I started to smile when my body pulsed in a huge spasm. I cried out, falling back on the bed face down with my arms holding me up. At first I thought it was pain that was thundering in my stomach, but I moaned as the sudden orgasm sledgehammer hit me. I looked under my body to find my cock fully erect and spurting streams of white semen all over the sheets. "Fuck," I exclaimed as the pulses of orgasmic pleasure surged from my groin. After a few more strong, long spurts my cock subsided and went limp.

"What...the...Hell?" I gasped as I laid back down, my body relaxing in the afterglow.

Quinn moved to put his head next to mine and gave me a sly smile, "Don't worry," he chuckled, "Just one of things you're body goes through."

"Really?" I asked in half belief.

"Oh yeah," he said, "Think of it like a second, more major puberty. What's going on now is the wet dreams part, except your body's changing so fast it doesn't have time to wait for you to go to sleep. It'll probably happen a few more times. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"This happened to you? When you..." I asked as I composed myself and got off the bed.

"Yeah," he said, putting a furry arm around me and leading me out of the bedroom. I noticed he was only a few inches taller than me in his werewolf form. "My old pack told me how it was a 'purging of the old seed with the new' kind of thing. I dunno. I think it probably has to do with your raging hormones having a party inside you right now."

He led me on a short trip down the hallway to a door nearby the bedroom. He opened it to reveal a large deluxe bathroom. It was covered in light comfortable red-brown tile, from ceiling to walls to floor. There was a single half-moon foggy glass window with vine plants draped over it, over a large Jacuzzi that could fit over six people. The left part of the room had a discreet wall where the toilet sat, next to a large mirror and bathroom counter covered in various bathroom products. The right part was dominated by two huge thick glass doors that housed the shower stall that could easily fit four people at once, with three shower heads sticking out at the three corners.

Quinn lead me to the mirror, posing me in front of it. It was surreal looking at myself, the tan brown werewolf smiling behind me. My body was definitely thicker and well muscled, with thick, almost fur-like body hair collecting between my pecs and flowing down to my crotch. My thick, black hair draped like a mane over the sides of my neck. My eyes, before a brown-green, were now a vibrant verdant color, shining with a straining savageness.

Suddenly the orgasm sledgehammer hit me again. I managed to cup my crotch enough to prevent spraying the entire mirror. I cursed silently as Quinn chuckled through his muzzle behind me.

"Don't pretend like you don't enjoy it," he chided.

I washed my hands in the sink and looked up just in time to see the fur receding on Quinn. It flowed in reverse to reveal the smooth tanned skin underneath. His muzzle smoothly diminished, melding into his human face. He had not shifted all the way human, he still had his canine back nose, his pointed ears, and golden eyes.

"You...We...Can do that?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he smiled, his teeth still sharp, "From human to wolf, and everything in between." With a warm hand on my back he led me to the shower, "I can't wait till you try out having four paws for the first time," he chuckled at the thought, "You'll look like a jackass at first, but then you'll get the hang of it."

He opened the large shower door and welcomed me with a "Come on in."

Quinn turned the three taps along the wall, the shower heads coming alive with strong surges of water around us. It felt good having the water hit my hot, pulsing body. I closed my eyes and stepped closer to a stream, letting the water wet my thick hair. I felt Quinn's smooth arms wrap around me from behind, and turn me around. I opened my eyes just before he leaned in and joined his lips to mine.

I was surprised that the orgasmic sledgehammer chose not to hit just then because my mouth went wild. My hands grasped his wet, smooth ass cheeks as I grinded him into me. My tongue wrested his, feeling his sharp canines carefully. Reluctantly he broke the kiss and gave me his charming smile.

In his hand he held a bottle of shampoo, "Turn around," he said.

Sudden realization hit me, "No fur while showering," I said slyly, "Saves on the shampoo bill."

"Yeah," he snorted, "But you're so hairy it shouldn't make a difference." He started using his skilled hands to massage the soap into my hair. A soft growl emanated from my throat.

"So will I get to..." is all I managed before the orgasmic sledgehammer hit and I sprayed in long, white arcs. Quinn managed to help me not slip on the wet tiles. The episode passed, and we shared a chuckle as the streams of water washed my semen off the far wall.

***

The orgasmic sledgehammers seemed to have taken a break as I dried myself off. I watched in amazement as the fur grew back on Quinn, his body reforming into his natural werewolf shape. His fur was not even wet but it definitely shined with cleanliness. Although Quinn got to walk around all fur-natural, I grabbed one of Abram's housecoats to put on. I was not in the mood to bother putting on clothing.

It was a surreal picture to view walking into that living room in the morning. The sun shone brightly through the large window onto the dinner table where the pack sat. Three naked-but-fur werewolves sitting at a table as casual as a family in the morning on the work week. Abram sat at the head of the table, his fur bright silver from the sun shining on it. Quinn took his place to the side of his alpha, beckoning with a clawed paw-hand for me to join. Lucas, a wiry golden furred werewolf with a long busy tail that almost curled on itself and a mass of head-fur that took the place of his heavy bangs sat silently beside Quinn.

I would have remained awestruck at the sight if it were not for the sudden emptiness of my stomach. The smells coming from the kitchen told me a hungry tale of meat, meat and more meat. I could hardly think of anything else. There was no denying it. My body needed protein and lots of it.

I hardly heard Abram's warm "Good morning Kenneth," as I sat down across from Quinn and Lucas, and stared at the plate in front of me. The plate beheld a thick, hot, bloody steak that spanned most of the plate's surface. With a good dose of willpower my hands found the knife and fork. I was close to just grabbing the meat with my hands and shoving it in my face, but I knew it would not help if I choked myself. I quickly cut a large slice of blood-oozing meat and made it a hot missile targeted directly to my mouth. I let myself have only a brief moment to relax, to feel the hot blood and flesh go down my gullet and enjoy the meaty taste before I set my knife and fork into action again.

Dutifully my pack forgave me of my table manners. They had all had gone through the same thing. After I was done almost inhaling the steak I did not have to wait long before another one appeared in its place. After five steaks I was served a whole plate of breakfast sausages. I hardly took a moment to say "Thanks," before devouring them. Abram moved beside me putting a large furry arm around my shoulders. He stroked my thick hair with careful claws. Lucas moved to my other side, sneaking his thin muzzle underneath my chin and stroking my belly. Both of them took turns licking my face as juices and stray bits of meat fell out. Quinn was busy having his own breakfast, not as large as mine but still large, and running to the kitchen to replace my plates. I was almost totally oblivious to it all.

On my third plate of bacon strips I started to slow down. I paused and realized that I had not even uttered a single burp. I looked down to see that my stomach was not even a little distended. My body was steaming, using every single molecule of food I ate and leaving none to waste. I grabbed the large glass of milk that had been sitting there ignored and downed it, cooling my body-on-overdrive for a few seconds.

"It's not going to be always like this," I heard Abram explain. "We do need our meat, but never really this much."

I turned to Abram and found his handsome furred face giving me that warm smile inches away. I couldn't think of anything to say so I just smiled back, turning to Quinn to share the smile with him. I looked down at Lucas, and after a few moments of staring warmly at him, snuck in a quick bacon-flavoured kiss on his large black nose. He let out a playful "yerf" sound through his muzzle, licking his nose. I munched on my remaining bacon, enjoying the peacefulness of the morning on our little pack.

"Lucas?" I asked, breaking the silence. The golden werewolf looked at me. "Why don't you talk?" He just continued staring at me, his ocean blue eyes sparkling with emerging mischief.

"As I said before," Abram explained beside me, "Lucas likes to keep silent most of the time. He only talks when he needs to. It's the way he is."

"Come on Lucas," I chided him, munching on bacon, "Your tongue works, you shouldn't be afraid to use it."

The golden werewolf's ocean blue eyes narrowed.

"I'm just saying," I defended, "That you have a chance, right now, to say your first words to me. What do you want those first words to be? Because, right now, you got a choice of what those words are. Don't take the chance, and you risk your first words to me being something less...romantic."

Lucas' eyes narrowed even more into suspicious slits.

"Good one," Quinn said from the other side of the table, "I didn't think of saying that. Come on, Luke. Remember your first words to me? They were 'Leeches are sticking to your leg'."

Lucas looked down at the floor in thought, then his eyes widened as inspiration hit him. He looked me in the eyes and in a soft, wispy voice said, "Talking's overrated."

Before I could respond he snatched up my last bacon strip with a rapid paw-hand and danced away from me. I found myself growling in mock challenge. "Taking a hungry man's food," I said, my voice harsh with growling, "Very serious."

With severe nimbleness, Lucas flew into the living room. I hardly made note of my surprising speed as I chased the wagging, golden fluff tail. Lucas leaped onto the top of the large couch, one foot on the back, and the other on the seat. He placed the tip of the bacon strip in his muzzle, so it wagged like a salty, meaty flag from his lips. He let out a muffled "Yip," in playful challenge.

My instincts recognized Lucas as the instigator of play. The one in our pack who would always cheer us up. No matter how serious things got, he would always find a way to try to make us smile. I couldn't help but smile at that moment, as I bound up the couch to stand next to him, the housecoat billowing behind me.

How I wished I had a muzzle at that moment so I could have played his bacon-grabbing game a little longer. He went easy on me, letting me slowly bite down on the bacon strip as I embraced his lithe furry body with my meaty arms. I ate the bacon strip slowly, going further down the length till I met his lips on the other end. How I wished at that moment that I had a proper muzzle instead of flat, human lips. It was awkward as all hell kissing him. I wanted to lock muzzles and let our tongues dance with each other, but I had to settle for tiny kisses and quick licks.

Suddenly a certain tingle of heat started in my stomach. I thought the orgasmic sledgehammer was going to make one last encore.

I was wrong.

Spikes of pain ripped through my back like a serrated knife playing along my bare spine. I lost my balance as all my muscles betrayed me and I landed on the floor with a sickening thud. My body curled in on itself and I screamed silently as my muscles tried to rip away from my bones, and my bones used sharp hooks to keep my muscles in place. My erratic pounding heart beat filled my ears. Pain hit me in screeching, slicing waves.

I remember looking at my hands, fingers curling like fleshy claws. I thought that at any moment the tips of my finger bones would erupt out of my fingertips.

Thankfully blackness came over my mind, taking the pain away in its wake.

***

When I woke up my body was a tangle of mixed messages. Most of it felt numb, as if I had just worked the most gruelling work shift of my life. Some random parts were radiating dull, sore pain, while other parts were confused to where they were and what they were doing.

I moaned as I opened my pain fogged eyes, the tongue in my mouth was thick and felt the teeth surrounding it. Some of the teeth were sharp and others were flat in an odd random combination. I heard something let out a sorrowful whine near the left side of my chest. I looked slowly down and saw Lucas's wolf head, his shaggy golden hair mixing in with my thick black chest hair, resting on my breast. He was spooning me, his one free arm holding my torso in a loving, careful hug.

I had been laid on the large couch with Lucas spooning me, wedged between my body and the back of the couch. My head was resting on Abram's ample thigh, who was sitting on the end of the couch, his paw-hand stroking my hair lovingly. Quinn was kneeling down in front of my legs, his muzzle in a determined look as he used his skilled paw-hands to massage the muscles in my legs.

"Whaaa?" was all that came out of my weird feeling mouth.

"Relax," Abram's warm soothing voice called above me, "Your body tried to shift when it was not ready to. Everything will be fine."

Lucas let out another sorrowful whine and in his wispy angel voice cried, "It was me. I caused it. I'm sorry. So sorry," He dug his head into my breast.

"Nnnnhh," was all that came out of my mouth when I tried to comfort him. I reached with my free right hand to stroke his head, but froze as I saw what my hand had become. Three of the nails were overgrown with jagged tips, the others flat and normal. Random muscles in the hand were exaggerated, making it seem bumpy and mutated. All the fingertips were puffed out and round. It was all numb and looked totally wrong.

Abram reached gently with his paw-hands and grasped mine. Focusing on my palm he used his two thumbs to massage my hand. Slowly I began to feel the nerves come alive and my hand shrank and smoothed. It was just another human hand again.

"It sometimes happens," Abram explained, moving to my shoulders as Quinn moved onto my other leg. "It's nothing unheard of. You are not to blame Lucas. Not at all."

I felt the nerves in my body reconnect and send pulses throughout my body, making sure everything was there and functioning. I let out a long sigh as I felt my teeth return to normal. Finally I reached over with my hand again and stroked Lucas's furry shaggy head. He licked my hand in return.

"There we go," I heard Quinn say softly, "Legs as done." He moved over, and laid on the carpet below me.

"I think everything's good now. Just rest for awhile Kenneth," Abram made it a soft command.

"I've done enough resting," I complained, my voice heavy and harsh.

"Oh, don't worry," Abram chided, "You'll be up and about before you know it."

I refused to shut my eyes and sleep. My body did feel like it had just ran for days without pause, but I was not in the mood for sleep. A part of me started to hate being in human shape, and felt a small amount of shame for not being able to assume the form I knew I was born to have. I sighed. Patience was forced on me. I needed a distraction.

"Abram?" I asked, getting comfortable in the huddle with my pack, "Why don't you tell me a story?

"Oh here we go," Quinn called in a playful tone, getting more comfortable on the carpet, putting his arms behind his head.

"Tell me," I thought, "Tell me about how you met Quinn and Lucas."

"Excellent," Abram approved, "We should begin with Quinn here, Quinn Rivertree."

"As I told you before," Abram began, "I came to this land to settle down and establish a pack. At first I thought I would have to scour a long distance to find those with my particular...traits I had in mind. Before I could settle though I thought it would be a good idea to introduce and announce myself to the closest pack, the WindWalkers. They live in the nearby native reservation, and have been claiming it as territory for decades."

"Technically," Quinn interjected, "They have been the guardians of this land for generations, but they had to wake up to some...harsh facts about how much they could handle."

"Quinn was already Wolf-Brethren when I met him," Abram continued, "He was a young member of the WindWalkers, and was there that night when I formally announced myself and spoke with their leader, Colin Rivertree."

"My dad," Quinn confirmed.

"It's hard for werewolves to keep their feelings hidden from each other," Abram commented. I was sure he was looking at Quinn with a loving stare, because I could clearly see Quinn giving the same stare back.

"As soon as we saw each other, there was a connection we could not deny," Abram continued, "At first it was just lust. Quinn was young and I had not had a lover for some time. Quinn did not keep his attraction to me a secret, but it was never a problem."

"The pack knew about me before I was made Wolf-Brethren," Quinn shrugged, "Hell, I did not even know before my father did. He could smell my attraction to other men even before I realized I was gay. He was the one who actually confronted me about it, did it the same night he told me I would be made Wolf-Brethren."

"Changing packs is a more sensitive matter," Abram sighed, "Especially to one as...traditional as the WindWalkers. I was really hesitant, but Quinn seemed so sure it was the right thing to do. He did it all himself really. He called a meeting and told his packmates his decision. I was very proud of him."

"It wasn't easy," Quinn commented, "At first my dad was against it. He admitted Abram was a 'proud warrior' and 'worthy of our company', but he could not see the reason why I had to leave. Abram made his case. The WindWalkers have been fighting the ancient demons that plague this land for centuries and had a strong tradition of honouring what they called the 'Lone Warrior' who went out and sought to destroy evil that was not on his lands. This is what they saw Abram as, but when I wanted to join Abram, I guess it was too much of a stretch to say there could be a pack of 'Lone Warriors'. Anyway, they were ready to put it to an ultimatum; either I stay with the WindWalkers or I go with Abram and be shunned for the rest of my life."

Quinn shook with chilling thoughts, "As much as I am not a part of their pack anymore, they are still my family. I wasn't sure if I could do it."

"Anyway," Quinn continued, "Everything seemed pretty bad until old Bear Killer spoke up. Bear Killer is an elder of the pack, and while it's not pack law that an elder's word is final, people listen to them because, you know, they're elders. Bear Killer just waved his paw and said 'Awww, just let him go. He is not going too far. Remember what I said when he was born? He has a bit of the Coyote in him. Coyote always goes a ways from the group. He has a bit of Coyote in him, so he is going a bit from the group.' My dad's a good leader, and he's always listened to Bear Killer, so he allowed me to join Abram and remain good with the family. There was another problem though..."

"Would you like me to tell it?" Abram asked softly, noticing Quinn's discomfort.

"Nah," Quinn sighed, "I don't regret what happened. Much."

"The problem was my older brother, Simon," Quinn continued, "I don't know what his problem was, but he was totally against me leaving the pack. He yelled that the WindWalkers needed every Wolf-Brethren of the Rivertree line in its ranks. I guess he was trying to show that, one day, he would be alpha by making a strong impression. Anyway, he wouldn't listen to reason, and right then and there, he challenged me."

"Although packs are different, most follow laws that are similar," Abram explained, "A challenge is meant to be a final arbiter of a dispute. The winner gets to decide the what side of the dispute wins, and the decision is honoured by the pack. These challenges are almost always combat."

"It's not the best way to handle things," Quinn continued, "But it was the only way. Simon challenged me, saying that I had to stay with the pack. My father did not strike down the challenge, it is his right as alpha, because he felt if I was not strong enough to defy an experienced and strong warrior like Simon, then I did not have the right to make my own decisions. So, we fought. I can't even remember how long the fight went,"

"Only ten or so minutes," Abram said gravely.

"As I said," Quinn went on, "Simon's a stronger fighter than I was, but somehow, after a lot of bites and claw marks and a lot of blood, I made him submit. I couldn't believe it at first,"

"Maybe you wanted it more than he did," I commented.

"Ya know," Quinn cocked a smile at me, "That's exactly what Bear Killer said. Anyway, I kinda wished it didn't happen like that. I hoped that Simon could see past his ambitions for the top spot, but we're still on shaky terms with each other."

"And so," Abram began, "Quinn and I were the first members of the Eyes of Tyr. We had to put off celebrating in the bed for a whole night because I had to nurse him of the injuries he got from his fight..."

"But loved every minute of it," Quinn interjected, "Forever the caring, and sexy, daddy-alpha."

Abram chuckled, not denying anything.

I let a few moments of silence go by to let the pack reminisce in thought before I looked down my chest to the golden furred wolf head staring back at me with ocean blue eyes slightly shut in comfort. "And what about you?" I said to Lucas who kept up his silent glance, "Are you going to tell me about how you came to the pack?"

Abram and Quinn chuckled as Lucas lazily stuck out a bit of his tongue, letting it hang a little out of his lip. The werewolf version of blowing a raspberry. Smiling, I used my hand wedged between his body and mine to reach around and pinch a bit of his supple ass. He let out a soft yelp.

"I will always try to get you to talk," I promised him, "You have a beautiful voice."

He let out a playful growl. It would be a game we would play for a long time.

"He was just as quiet when I found him," Abram began, saving Lucas, "His family lives in a town near here, and I was just passing through when I noticed this adorable young man sulking in the passenger seat of a car. His mother had just taken him to see a psychiatrist because her son had 'obvious communication problems.' The session had not gone well, and the good doctor had prescribed some drugs for the silent young man. So it was there outside a small town pharmacy that this adorable young man sat sulking alone in his mother's car, when some special instinct caused him to look up and see this handsome, striking burly man who the young man was instantly attracted to. It was a good thing the car window was rolled down because the young man's scent carried heavy in the air and went straight for the handsome werewolf's nose. I noticed the young man instantly, his scent betrayed both his inner Wolf-Blood and his attraction to me. Unfortunately, against the instincts raging in me, I could not approach the boy. Strange middle aged men suddenly talking to teenage men in cars was kind of noticed in this small town. So all I could do is give a smile and a wave. The young man just kept staring, because now he had no idea what to feel. It was the first time he was actually attracted to someone, and the Wolf-Blood inside him drew his instincts to follow the alpha. The young man was confused, frightened , and aroused at the same time, and he did not know why."

"Lucas presented me with a unique problem; he was still in high school and a withdrawn young man. I considered waiting until he was older until I approached him, but the alpha-instinct is very strong, and I needed to increase the size of my small pack. As well, and I fully admit it, I wanted to help the young man. As I...observed him from a distance as he went on his daily life I saw a sad, frustrated, silent man who needed love. I knew in my heart I could give him the love and guidance he needed. Fortunately I had an ace up my sleeve: Quinn."

"Just as I did, Quinn was attracted to Lucas as soon as he laid eyes on him. It was easy to get Quinn enrolled in the high school. We just had to lie about his age. When Lucas first laid his eyes on Quinn, he was instantly in love. Quinn was a master. He didn't lay it on too heavy for the silent, withdrawn young man. At first it was just a few glances and smiles they shared as they passed in the hallway or when they sat across from each other in class. It was some time before they were talking to each other..."

"How'd you manage that?" I interrupted, looking at Quinn.

"As I said," Quinn smiled, "The first thing he said to me was 'Leeches are sticking to your leg.' We just happened to meet one weekend at a swimming hole in the spring. I made a good show of only wearing some...form-fitting swim shorts. Too bad the leeches kind of ruined the effect, but I managed to turn it into a good pick up line."

"How?"

"Oh, no," Quinn wagged a claw, "I'm not going to reveal all my secrets in one day."

"On their first date," Abram continued, "Quinn brought Lucas here. Just like you, there was a lot of questions and explanations. I was...hesitant at first to give Lucas the whole picture, but I found that he was...desperate for change."

"What was wrong?" I asked Lucas, stroking his head fur. He just gave me a reassuring smile.

"Nothing too dramatic," Abram answered, "It was not like Lucas's family were not treating him well. They were concerned for him because they could not understand him. We could. Lucas's silent way of communication is part of his Wolf-Blood. His family looked at him and saw a depressed, withdrawn young man. When we looked at him, we did see the withdrawn part, but he was only depressed because there was no one he knew who would accept him for who he is."

"It was hard for Lucas because my only demand was that he graduate before he became Wolf-Brethren. Although it was only four months until that time when he met us, it was torture for him. Knowing a whole, new life was ahead of him, something he never thought possible, and he had to go through four months of pretending to be interested in moving on with a normal human life. He was going to classes..."

Lucas growled softly.

"Your education was important," Abram preached. "Besides the last thing I wanted was for Lucas to just disappear off the face of the earth. It would leave too many questions, and a whole family that would look for him. So, although he hated every second of it, he went to class, got good grades, and even started to apply to colleges."

Abram reached over and joined his large paw-hand with mine, petting Lucas's head fur, "The week before graduation Lucas came out of the closet to his parents. He told them Quinn was his boyfriend and that he planned to move in with him. They were not too surprised, they had seen Quinn and Lucas together over the year, but they were concerned about him moving out. In the end they reluctantly understood his decision. To this day, as far as they know, Lucas and Quinn are living together as loving partners."

"Not too far from the truth," Quinn commented, leaning across me to give Lucas a quick kiss-lick, "We still have to go to his family's Christmas. It's kinda awkward because his mother's-side is kinda...racist."

Lucas growled.

"But you know me," Quinn joked, "I just keep on smiling."

"I stay out of the that picture," Abram sighed, "Lucas's family has no idea the true nature of his relationship is. Ever since Lucas's father passed away two years ago his family has been less and less interested in how he lives."

"Sorry," I whispered to Lucas.

He looked at me with happy eyes, giving me a lick-kiss on my cheek, "I have the family I need," he said in his wispy, angel voice.

I hugged his furry body close, and put my lips near his large pointed ear, "Gotcha," I whispered.

The golden furred werewolf's eyes narrowed.

"As promised," Abram went on, chuckling, "Lucas became Wolf-Brethren the night he graduated. The rest you can gather from what you're going through right now."

Abram went silent and I took the chance to feel the warmth of the pack around me. Looking at the beautiful furred forms around me, embracing me, I felt a great envy come over me. I started to hate the fact that I did not have fur. That I did not share the sense of smell and touch these creatures had. I had to force myself to be content with the base warmth and comfort that gave me lovingly. I forced myself to find comfort with the fact I would not have to wait long.

***

The setting sun splashed the sky with deep orange cloudy flames, reminding me of Abram's eyes.

Blades of golden yellow shot across the darkness laying underneath the flaming globe, reminding me of Quinn's eyes.

The sparkling blue of the night sky crept in with the starry darkness, reminding me of Lucas's eyes.

I stood alone on the outside porch overlooking the picturesque clearing. We had just finished supper, and despite the love I felt for my new packmates, I had the unique urge to be alone. In the pack you spend a lot of time together, and you cherish it, but it is understood when one has the need to be alone once in a while. It was one of those needed solitary moments when I stood on that porch, watching the night embrace the sky.

A soft wind brushed my face, flowing onto my naked body through the slit in the housecoat. I was suddenly aware of the plethora of scents the wind carried; the wet wooden smell of rotting oak, the stinging wooden smell of virgin trees, the itchy freshness of wet grass, the base smell of earth, the dusty smell of rock...

The salty musk of prey.

My eyes battled the darkness, trying to pierce the dark tree line and reveal the trails of scent. Frustrated with my futile effort I shut my useless eyes and inhaled deeper. The scents collected in me and set my instincts on fire.

I could not deny it.

Run.

The housecoat fluttered away from my naked body as I leaped over the railing of the porch and my bare feet touched the wet, cool grass. Without pause I ran into the forest, my body tireless, my mind open and free. I found myself running at great speed along a bare earth trail leading deep into the forest.

Within my heart I felt a great fire spark and crackle with ancient energy. The fire traveled along my veins in a flash fire, igniting my true soul. My eyes could only see dark shapes of trees and branches, but the scents flowing in my nose and the earth touching my feet told me everything I needed to know. With bare instinct I began to leap, off of trees, off of rocks, off of outcroppings, releasing the pent up energy within my blood that had been building up since the day I was born.

With great elation I felt the feeling of the rapid wind on my skin give way to the feeling of rapid wind along my thick fur. Dark, thick fur grew, embracing my body in a natural, wild pelt. Somewhere in my mind I cried for joy, but I kept on running and leaping, reaching out with my hands to grasp tree limbs. It was not long until my hands ended in long, curved claws that left their small, cutting mark where I grasped. My paw-hands grew, thick pads growing and giving me greater grip. My legs thickened and bent-back on themselves with only the slight pain of a muscle being reawakened from being numb. I was only vaguely aware as the long appendage grew stealthily out of my backside, rapidly sprouting fur, a fleshy flower erupting in furry petals. My tail swayed and straightened as I ran and leaped. Finally my face erupted in a thick muzzle, causing me to stop for a short moment to let out a growling moan in elation as the scents around me burst and defined themselves. My pointed ears twitched, hunting for sounds in all directions. With a blink of my savage eyes the dark forest grew more clear and defined. My muscles sang with ancient strength. I continued running.

The path came to an end at a wide stream, but I did not stop. With no hesitation I leaped the watery obstacle like a fleeting thought, something deep in my mind laughing and screaming in surprise and awe. I landed on the other side without effort and continued on my race through the wild, embracing it.

When the salty musky scent slapped across my black nose I stopped, the claws on my foot-paws scratching the earth below them. My nose quivered, searching, as it found the salty musky scent and followed it. Instinctively I crouched low and ran carefully, my black furred body melding with the thick underbrush. It was not long before I found my prey.

The old stag had the walk of a long life lived with many battles and joys. His head, overweighed by cracked heavy antlers, hanged low as he trotted slowly. Old sweat clung to his fur, old dirt refused to leave his hooves.

I stood up, a dark massive shadow among the glass. The stag looked at me briefly, old instincts of fleeing flashing through his shiny eyes. I did not need to hide from him. He was no match for me.

Before he could turn to flee I was upon him in a rapid leap, my strong arms squeezing his torso, and my jaws finding his thick neck. The taste of old sweat and dirt on his flesh was quickly replaced with the coppery, hot taste of lifeblood. With one violent jerk of my head, I took the fading life out of those shining eyes.

The prey's lifeless body tumbled from my death embrace to the forest floor, the heat of his body fading into the cold air. I stood there, my chest heaving with a predator's pleasure, my tongue licking the remaining blood on my fangs. A primitive electric charge rose through me, my fur standing in excitement, my eyes rising finding the starry sky overhead, the soft silver face of the moon beamed down at me from far away.

I howled.

It was a howl of triumph, of ancient purpose, of love found, of a grateful heart, of a hunter giving tribute to his prey. It sang through me heavy and long. I heard my howl echo through the empty air and bounce off the trees and rocks back at me. The primitive energy leaked out of me till I was spent.

As I looked down at the slain stag my intellect came back creeping among my instinct addled mind. I suddenly realised where I was. I suddenly realized what I was.

Dumbfounded I looked down at my large paw-hands, covered in dark fur. I could not see much in the darkness, but I could feel the savage power of my body. I took a cautious step forward, afraid I would trip, a baby figuring out how to walk. I had no need to fear because it was more natural than I first thought. The feeling of wind on my fur, the scent of my sweat on my body, the millions of odours caressing my muzzle, it did not overwhelm me at all. Of course, I realized, This is what I was meant to be.

Nervous, excited energy built up in my gut, and I could not help but laugh. The laugh came out deep and heavy out of my large lungs.

Then I heard the howls in the distance. Howls of welcome, of love, of 'where the hell are you?'. A quick instinct rose in my gut to howl out in answer, but a mischievous spark lit up in my mind, and I quelled the howl rising in my throat. Instead I quickly spotted a good, strong tree and leaped with a single bound into the upper branches, finding a place to perch.

It was not long until they arrived, walking cautiously into the kill area. They formed a tactical triangle, the silver-furred alpha taking point, with the tan-brown werewolf on the right, and the golden werewolf on the left. I did not desire to fight them, so I let out a sharp, playful bark before leaping down from the tree. I was a black-furred missile aiming straight for the silver-furred target.

When I hit his mass, I knew immediately that Abram was strong enough to stay standing, but instinctively he knew I was playing and he let himself fall, his thick arms grappling me and taking me for the ride. He rolled in the long grass, taking me with him, softly biting me in the shoulder with a soft growl.

Despite my new strength, Abram held me strong. He stopped rolling, he ended up putting his mass on top of me. I concentrated on getting his arms off of me, and I could feel them weakening, when his muzzle dived in and locked with mine. His skilful tongue danced with mine, slithering and lapping at all the right, erotic angles. Disabled with erotic waves, I went limp, feeling his hot, hard body on top of mine.

Abram released his muzzle from mine, a trail of slim saliva still connecting us. His caressed my furred face. "You're beautiful," he huffed. His orange eyes blazed with affection.

"Keep him down!" I heard Quinn call out.

With a growl I struggled, but Abram didn't let up, keeping his mass on me. He let out a growl-chuckle, feeling my body struggle under his. I stopped briefly, then reached up to grab is thick, furry ass and fondled it with my paw-hands. I ground my hot, hard crotch into his, and Abram could not help but gasp. His grip became a little bit looser. Sensing the other two approaching I came up with another plan. I quickly moved my paw-hands to his sides, and rapidly twiddled my claws over the flesh under his thick fur.

Abram started laughing uncontrollably, letting out a "How dare you?" The big alpha was ticklish. Sensing opportunity, I managed to get out of his grip. I was too late.

Quill leaped over and Lucas leaped under. The tan-brown werewolf collided with me, causing me to drop onto Abram below. The alpha took the advantage and wrapped his strong arms around me again. The golden werewolf grasped my legs and tripped me up. I was defenceless. My pack had caught me. The game was over.

I chuckled as Quinn hugged me, pressing my back into Abram. Lucas let go of my legs and started sniffing, his cold nose kissing my inner legs. Quinn buried his nose into my thick chest fur and inhaled deeply. Abram stuck his thick muzzle behind my ear and I could hear his nose snuffling.

I inhaled deeply. It was the scent of loving warmth, of steaming lust, of undeniable kinship.

It was the scent of a pack.

***

With the dead stag draped over his shoulder, Abram led us into the house.

When he saw my kill he had taken a small bit of meat and ate it. "It is a tradition," he explained, "The alpha gets the first bite of the meat. We're a little more practical though, we'll just store this for later. I really don't mind if you help yourself afterwards."

Stepping into the lit house was a surreal experience. The darkness of the forest was gone, and I could finally look down at my new body. I was taller than Quill and Lucas, and just an inch or two shorter than Abram. I was thick with muscle, and I was definitely contending as the 'big boy' of the pack.

Abram had gone to the kitchen to quickly deal with the dead stag. Lucas cuddled me, pressing his lithe body into my thick muscle and fat, his golden fur contrasting against my black.

"Hey!" Quinn exclaimed as he grabbed my paw-hand and pulled me towards the hallway leading from the living room, "Come on! You haven't seen you yet!"

Quinn pulled me in front of a large mirror which hung just inside the hallway. A soft light shone from a light fixture overhead.

It took me a few dumbfounded moments to recognize the large, towering werewolf staring back at me with verdant eyes was me. I was covered in a thick, ebony fur coat, with a silvery white diamond patch of fur between by pecs. My head fur was like a thick mane, spilling over my shoulders. My large, pointed ears managed to poke out of the thick mass.

As Lucas continued cuddling my right side, Quinn hugged my left, getting into the frame of the mirror. Abram wondered over and used his large arms to embrace us all as much as we could, his head resting next to mine. Four sets of eyes stared into their mirror-selves staring at them. A pack portrait.

The moment ceased when Abram let out a slow chuckle. "I saw that," he smiled.

Before I could ask, he pointed downward with his claw, leading all our eyes to my crotch. My cock, wrapped in a thick foreskin covered in thin black fur over a pair of balls the size of peaches, was peaking out. It was deep red and wet.

As the smell of my own hot arousal hit my nose, my cock twitched and hardened. Both Quinn and Lucas licked the sides of my muzzle as Abram drew me in. I felt his own hard member pressing against the base of my tail.

"There is another tradition was must...observe," Abram growled into my ear.

"Yah?" Was all I could say as lust flowed through me, prickling my fur.

"It's a rather unique one," the alpha huffed, his paw-hands grouping my body, "One that I started with this pack."

Abram turned me around, grinding my body into his, our cocks kissing each other is orgasmic passion. His strong, orange eyes flared, "It is my duty as alpha to...induct you into the pack. It is your duty...to let the alpha be the first to...have you."

"You are my alpha," I announced strongly, "I not going to give myself to you out of duty..."

Abram growled strongly, an alpha on the verge of being denied.

"I giving myself to you because I love you. I love you for all that you've done for me. What you have given to me..."

His growl turned soft, and he grabbed my arm. Huffing out of frustrated lust, he led me quickly up the stairs and into the bedroom. As soon as the soft lights came on he grappled me, drawing me in for a quick muzzle kiss before he threw me onto the bed. I ended up on the edge, sitting with my legs spread, my red hot cock glistening wet and erect.

Abram took a moment to calm himself, the fire blazing in his eyes getting a little bit dimmer as he strode towards me. I was only vaguely aware of the other two softly coming into the bedroom and laying down on each of the sides of the bed as Abram traced a gentle claw down my throat to my crotch.

Grabbling my pulsing cock in his strong paw-hand, he leaned in, his muzzle inches from mine.

"I accept," he growled, "I accept you, Kenneth. I accept the love you offer me. You are now Wolf-Brethren of the Eyes of Tyr. Now..."

Gently he turned me around so that my backside faced him. I let myself fall down, using my arms to hold myself up, jutting my ass out to my alpha. The hot, cinnamon scent of lust dominated the room.

Abram began by feeling my back, running his paw-hands along my muscles, lick-kissing my neck. The lick-kisses continued, traveling down my spine. His paw-hands grasped the base of my tail, sending electric shocks through my torso. Pressing hard as he moved down, he groped hard as he parted my furry cheeks.

A long growl-moan erupted from my throat as I felt his hot tongue lap my tail hole. Massaging my cheeks, he continued lapping. The wet slurping sounds echoed with my growling moans.

I relaxed as his tongue lapped deeply, causing erotic waves to settle in my belly. It was then I felt someone stroking my head and I opened my eyes to see Quinn's muzzle heading towards mine. Giving no resistance I let his tongue in, adding our kissing to our pleasure dance. A sudden, long shock shot from my crotch. I moaned in Quinn's muzzle as Lucas, using his lithe and nimble body, had managed to grasp my thick cock and started serving it with long broad licks.

The sexual dance continued until Abram's tongue left my hot tail hole. Quinn broke our kiss, licking down my throat. My growl of disappointment was cut short as Abram bit my shoulder, his fangs prickling the flesh. With a deep dominate growl he slowly ground into me. I gasped silently as the thick hotness penetrated me. I could feel every bit of hot, wet cock sliding into me. I bucked against it, driving the cock further in. I let out a howl of triumph as I felt his crotch collide softly with my ass. He started his thrusts slowly, his growls sending vibrations through our hot connection.

Lucas enveloped my cock, surrounding it with his skilled tongue. Suddenly I felt him let out a surprised yelp, followed by a long, pleasure-growl. Quinn had mounted him. Lucas laid down in front of me, his belly on the bed, his tongue still lapping my quivering cock, as Quinn laid down on top of him. Quinn's hips pounded into his supple ass cheeks. The tan-brown werewolf's eyes shined with lust, his lip set in a growl.

Abram quickened his pace, the sound of his hips pounding against my ass dominating the room. The hot shaft pounded inside me. I growled in pleasure as his cock hit the right spots, sending more erotic energy to my belly.

Quinn grabbed Lucas's shoulder and brought his torso up to his. He bit into Lucas's shoulder as the golden werewolf went limp, urging Quinn on. Huffing between the thrusts Abram was giving me, I looked down at Lucas's cock. It was hard and long, straining for release. I licked my muzzle wetly, wanting to taste it, but my alpha had me at the moment.

Abram let go of my shoulder and grinded his head into mine. He let out strong, hot huffs out of his muzzle. He was close. I grinded into him, my body needing to feel his pleasure as mine.

Lucas was the first to erupt. His cock flared and shot a long stream of white cum, landing on my torso, showing up in pearl globs on my black fur. Lucas went limp, dropping down onto the mattress. Quinn released him, his black veined cock slurping out of Lucas's tail hole. Facing me, Quinn only had to give his cock a single hard stroke to send out his semen strings and add it to Lucas's on my chest.

The smell of my packmates seed was heavy and overwhelming. The pleasure building up inside me burst. I felt my balls tighten and my cock quiver with erupting energy. My tail hole quivered and Abram could take no more. I sprayed Quinn and Lucas with my own pearly seed as Abram erupted inside of me.

In unison we let out a deep, desperate howl, announcing our love to the night, Quinn and Lucas joined in. With one single last thrust, Abram rested. I was strong enough to hold the large alpha on my back. With a weak satisfied growl Abram slid out of me, my tail hole releasing his cock with a quiet slurp.

Lying on the bed we shared a flurry of kisses and embraces. We shared our scents and our tastes. I laid down on top of Abram, resting my head on his chest. Quinn cuddled next to me, with Lucas in between us, his muzzle buried in Quinn's chest.

The world became a warm sea of fur and heart beats. Our eyelids grew heavy as sleep approached. The pack slept.

_I dared the dark clouds to come. I could face them now.

Because I knew.

The pack is always together. Even in dreams._