Museum Broil

(The Nova Series)

"How's the moon treating you?" The old man leaned on his cane, glancing up at the wolf towering before him. The curator noted the wolf's security outfit, how it barely held together over his body, bulging from the excess muscle Uhan had packed on over the last couple weeks. White fur splayed from the tight sleeves, cascading over the collar in a gorgeous mess of lupine pelage.

Amused, the man stroked his coarse beard, its fine whiteness betraying his age. Placing more weight on his cane, the man had an air of knowledge and wisdom that Uhan couldn't help but respect, even as the wolf's mind growled commands to bite back with an insult or an accusatory demand. Instead, Uhan sucked in a deep breath, straining against the security uniform and doing his best to ignore the discomfort. The old man wouldn't allow him to patrol the area without clothes despite the lack of intruders all these years. He was half-tempted to rip it all off. Clothes were for humans like the old curator, after all!

"I see," the man said, taking note of Uhan's breath--a clue. Temptation to lose one's temper. The curator worried the wolf's meaty chest, so full of the museum's musty air, would send a button flying. "The hunger is about you. Will you hold back the beast for the night?"

"Yes, Mr. Rawlings." Uhan breathed out. The gruffness of his voice almost surprised him. Ten years of this and still he surprised himself. He tried to be respectful. Said "mister" and everything! "The moon waxes full tomorrow. I can...control this until then. You know this...."

"Yes, yes, young one," Rawlings said as he peeled away a strand of white fur that had somehow burrowed into his navy full-button cardigan. Uhan's nose twitched at the smell of wool and linen and the musk of old age. Rawlings belonged in Cornucopia's central park playing chess rather than some dusty museum here in Amberbrook. The curator brought a wrinkled hand to Uhan's forearm, patting him there, the feel of fur and muscle bringing him a smile. Uhan grinned back, flashing a row of glistening, dangerous teeth--surprised, if anything, that such a feeble being could be so unafraid. If only he knew the power the wolf felt right now....

"And yet you ask this every month before I take off."

"Yes, yes..." the old man echoed. Another pat that managed to bring more comfort than annoyance. Uhan felt like a raging dog being placated by his owner, coaxing out the good boy from within. "Your uncle, as you know, is a dear friend of mine...he asked me to look out for you while you're under my employ. Hence the question."

"But you're as repetitive as one of your tour spiels!" Uhan growled, gesturing at all the weapon displays in the main lobby. The wrinkled hand touching the wolf's forearm startled free, but the man's warm expression did not falter. Uhan let out an apologetic sigh, his heart already racing from the snarling wolf he felt throbbing from within. Perhaps the old man was right...the moon's influence was too strong. He shook his head. No. He could control this. "I'm no longer the sixteen-year-old child who had no handle on this."

"Of course, not--no," the old man said. "You've grown so much over the past ten years. You've only broken, what, two displays in that time?"

Uhan's pointed ears flattened against his head, and he could feel his tail tuck further between his legs. Here the wolf stood, a humongous beast compared to this frail human, hair and bone thinning with age, and yet he cowered like a struck dog! "Again, I'm...sorry about that."

"Oh, come off it." The old man batted his hand, as if this act could brush away the remorse Uhan still felt all these years. "Guilting you was not my intention, my boy. Such cheap displays, anyhow! Common Springfield rifles. Worth no more than toy guns. The only shame here is my insurance company and their refusal to cover them! What purpose do these monthly premiums serve?"

Uhan could feel his thigh itch in the spot over which he broke the rifle. His face burned. "Guess it makes sense why you would ask." The wolf nodded, baring his teeth again as a grin stretched his face. His tail snapped out in confidence. "It won't happen again, believe me! I'll guard this place as I've always done!"

"That's the spirit." The old man chuckled--a kind, warm laugh that Uhan imagined brought people to him like a warm fire does to those fresh from the brisk outdoors. Amberbrook had its cold winters, and its colder personalities...he reminded himself to be a little kinder to the man...perhaps do something nice once the moon faded back into a womb-like dormancy. "Now, I'll leave this place to your capable hands." Uhan gave a stern look. "Apologies! Paws, of course." Another warm chuckle. "Even with a giant wolf standing here, I forget sometimes that you and I are...not the same. Forgive this old man."

Another toothy wolf-grin. "I'm sure I have an entire backlog of forgiveness needed, being the big dork that I am." Rawlings nodded his understanding. "Enjoy the rest of your evening. I'll keep an eye on things here, no problem."

With that, the old man left into the bustle of a weekend evening on Historic 15th, Uhan offering a wave as he locked the glass doors. A metallic click almost reverberated through the building now free from nosy tourists and the curator who always welcomed them with open arms...and a nosy mouth so willing to impart history and names and dates and the significance of the two-centuries-old battle that had torn this land and the early settlers apart. Uhan looked on until Rawlings had crossed the street, navigated the treacherous asphalt with his cane, and made it safely into his vehicle. The wolf's blaring, amber eyes ignored the caravan of passersby and tourists hunting for pub food and locally crafted beer that, honestly, tasted no better than the piss made by faceless corporations. Still did the job, though. Got him drunk.

Uhan shook his head, resisting the temptation to leave his post and trawl one particular bar where the alcohol loosened up the inhibitions of normies often threatened by a specific lustful thought: a roll in the sack with a wolf who could tear any of them to shreds.

A grin made some headway across his face as Uhan began his rounds, making sure everything was in its place. Museums thrived on order, after all. But nothing had changed. Never did. Everything was_always_ in its place, inviting yawns throughout each night. It was easy to fall back onto memories of getting laid. Helped with the boredom.

The memory of one tourist threatened to pull him from his duties. Beef up an erection. Couldn't remember his name--nor did it matter--although Uhan recalled that he was from Cornucopia. The man was his age, with a plume of hair as dark as Uhan's fur during the new moon phase...when he was, he supposed, "normal." Last day of some retreat in the opal waters of Dellmar, but the tourist wanted to sample the history and local alcoholic offerings of a smaller city nearby. Thus, Amberbrook.

Uhan licked his chops.

Damn: What. A. Lay.

Tightest hole ever.

Of course, he could take his pick of any gay guy at the bar, although he'd almost tempted a few straight fellas into bending over for him, into taking his thick, ten-inch dick (Uhan quickly thanked the full moon for the extra oomph down below). Who wouldn't want him? The big wolf already lost track of his total sexual conquests ever since he'd moved to this town. Hungry guys everywhere!

Claws clattered along the linoleum flooring that reminded him more of an oversized checkerboard. Al, the custodian, left an hour ago. But the scent of floor cleaner, long dried out, made his nose twitch as he meandered through the circular dome of the main exhibition room. Four hallways branched out from the cardinal points into smaller domed rooms differentiated by a theme: artistic works of bygone settlers and beautifully forested landscapes for one room, the others featuring displays, artifacts, and various trivial tidbits of the local zoology, botany, and geography over the past several hundred years. Since before the town was nothing but a trading post. Before the Nova allowed Uhan to exist among humans. Allowed him to don this tight-as-hell uniform and exist as a security guard. Protect paintings. Various knickknacks. The donation box with a couple primer bills hanging at the bottom like dead fish in their aquarium. Animal and plant displays. Old shit.

At least the central dome had all the juicy stuff: old weapons of war--killing devices that shot or stabbed or bludgeoned or maimed. Armor, too, meant to prevent shots and stabs and bludgeonings and maimings. People died anyway, no matter how much protection one wears. People always die.

Uhan glanced at his paws, how the black claws had grown in thick and sharp. His brow furrowed. Blood dripped from each claw, oozing thickly down each digit, bright and red, before splintering into tiny droplets across the floor.

He blinked.

His claws were, again, bloodless. Just a set of normal claws, although his thought reminded him of the power he wielded: the ability to hurt, to kill just like all these weapons the museum housed. Made for war. Made for death--and lots of it. Perhaps he was built the same way. Built to ensure that people--like him, like the curator, like his family he never saw, like the strangers that stamped around his city--always die.

"Nah," Uhan said to the blank-faced bronze statue standing soldierly in the middle of the room atop a marble plinth. Reaching a paw over to cup the bulge-less crotch of the statue--Such a waste! he once thought--he continued: "Fucking is much more fun...killing is such a waste of good dick."

Hidden down one pant leg, his wolf-hood twitched, picking up on the excitement that ran through his mind as he recalled yet another memory--he had plenty of them!--of his latest bedroom adventure with one particularly well-endowed fella. He'd fucked plenty of guys of all dick sizes...cute four-inchers to monsters that were as big hard as he was flaccid: he loved them all. But damn, he wondered if all guys from Cornucopia were that hung...first time he met a bigger guy. Uhan's flaccid eight began throbbing to life, straining against the already-tight polyester fabric, aching to reach its full size as his mind replayed the memory like a favorite porn video. The man was a rare footer--twelve inches of thick, hard meat just slapping away against his stomach, the sound nearly echoing across the walls of the cheap motel room. Uhan didn't take dick, but he sure loved watching it as he humped away wildly from the side of the bed. Dogs, cats, horses, birds, fellow wolves...they all felt great around his hard-on. But humans...gah, they were something else. Especially hung ones that put the couple horses he had fucked to shame.

Uhan grinned, now completely hard. Looked like he had stuffed one of the ball-headed war clubs from the native weaponry display down his pants like a thief. His paw slipped down over the bulge outlining his entire length until he reached the sensitive head his foreskin could no longer cover. A low, pleasurable growl escaped as he rubbed himself off. His head tossed back. His tail swept back and forth through the air tinged with a delicate must.

His nose twitched. Eyes snapping open, his paw froze. Light-blue orbs glowed from the glass ceiling like giant stars pinned to the dark sky. When Uhan's eyes adjusted, he noticed the onlooker's grin. The two orbs weren't stars! Vertical pupil slits. A tongue flicked out, licking the surface of one. Of course: eyes!

A low growl emerged, deep from Uhan's chest. The glow of the near-full moon revealed a slim, shirtless body, hands and legs suctioned to the glass like a gecko. The intruder took a few quick steps to the side wall, watching, unblinking, still grinning. Vibrant-green skin flecked with reds and yellows and light blues spilled into view as the museum lights draped over the visitor. Three red bands adorned his head: across the snout, between the eyes, and over the crown. Uhan noticed three more bands of red running parallel from the small of his back and down the length of his tail. More red freckles splattered his splayed fingers and toes. He was a gecko.

"Agalmatophilia," the wall-clinger said, a friendly, curious voice that betrayed his young age...probably no older than Uhan, "how curious. One of those kinks you hear about but never think someone actually has."

"Who are you?"

"You typically get off from groping statues?" The gecko swiveled his head, still grinning. "I wonder if this could be considered rape. Statues can't say 'no,' after all."

"What are you doing here?" The wolf scanned the rest of the ceiling. Were there others? "How'd you get in?"

The gecko's grin somehow stretched wider. "Oh, I have my ways." He scurried towards an exhibit on the far corner, yanking a sabre from its wall mount. This elicited a growl from Uhan who dashed over to stop the unwelcome visitor. The gecko dropped gracefully to the floor into a shoddy on-guard position, revealing a cream-white underside that contrasted the green. He still smiled--a look that Uhan was half-tempted to slice off, becoming aware of his own claws poised at his sides. However, a bulge tucked behind a pair of black half-length running tights disrupted the wolf's temptation for violence. Uhan sized up the gecko's crotch before dashing his glare back up to make eye contact. "The name's Yamori. What's yours?"

"Quit with the cocktail party questions and put that back!"

Yamori chuckled. "Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"Put it back."

"What's your name, big boy?" The gecko looked the wolf up and down. Doing his own sizing up. "I'm surprised you fit in that uniform. You're a bulgy one. So much muscle!"

A wolven sneer: "Unfortunately, these don't come in Big Bad Wolf sizes."

"Very unfortunate! You think the research lab that concocted you would have diverted some of their funding towards a full-time tailor. You know! Someone with firsthand experience resizing clothes for steroid-pumping jumbotrons."

"I'm all natural, lizard brain." The wolf lunged at him but stopped short when the gecko raised the sword in defense. "Put that back."

"Name first! It's only polite."

Uhan snarled before reluctantly offering his name. Yamori looked back unblinking, his tongue snatching out to give the previously untouched eyeball a lick, then said, "Uhan, huh? You sound like a moving equipment company." Giggles. "Nice to meet you, all the same! How do you want the sword?"

"Think I'm afraid of that toothpick in your hand?"

"Yikers! That wasn't a threat!" Yamori's grin faded. He swiveled his head like an inquisitive dog. "How curious, though: What's stopping you from taking it back?"

Uhan didn't honor a response, although he thought back to the gun he had snapped like a twig from his rage. The old man was always so forgiving. He couldn't let him down again. He couldn't test his patience like that after all the years of accommodating his...condition.

That gecko grinned again, as if he could hear the wolf's thoughts. Reveled in his worry. "Wouldn't want to have another little accident, right? First a toy gun, then a cheap play sword."

Uhan could feel his hackles stand on end from what this revealed. How much the gecko had heard. Why didn't the wolf smell him? "How long have you been spying on us? Answer me!"

The tip of the sword threatened to skewer Uhan's throat, although it'd come as no surprise to either if that thick mane doubled as a protective bib. A wolf paw swatted the sword aside, the other arm throwing a strong grip to the gecko's throat.

Yamori's grin seemed to slip from his face as the saber did from his grip. The blade clattered to the floor. Both hands strained against the wolf's forearm that tensed and flexed and bulged with muscle and veins and a furor of angry, white fur.

Uhan's grip tightened.

Hackles rose.

His brow furrowed, igniting the amber ferocity from his eyes. Bared his teeth--deadly and white. The lupine rage began to gnaw and bite at him. A wolf inside the wolf.

Yamori choked and kicked, unable to utter a coherent word. Hit the wolf's arm uselessly as he dangled in the air.

The world sparkled into a dizzying array of wild greens and reds and blues, kaleidoscopic and disorienting. The wolf stumbled back, his mind in a daze. All Uhan knew: he no longer held the gecko, no longer clutched him securely in his massive grip. He stood there. A big, dumb thing.

Unable to see.

Useless.

For a moment, the world had morphed into something reserved for dreg-heads on the latest mind-altering fuzz. Uhan shook his head with a growl. He could hear the gecko coughing and gasping from the floor nearby.

"Yikers," the gecko managed, rubbing his throat. "That was...unexpectedly fast. You're a...you're a strong one."

The world faded back slowly into view. Uhan could make out Yamori sputtering on the floor, his green skin glimmering like a sequin dress--tiny sparks of iridescent light. Just before the flash moments ago, Yamori's skin seemed to ignite into an array of brilliant, dazzling neon greens, a splash of reds and blues and other mind-warping colors, painting the world with a disorienting light. Yamori was the cause!

"What the hell was that?" Uhan growled, stumbling toward the gecko who picked himself off the floor. The wolf swiped haphazardly at the air, still disoriented, the kaleidoscopic sheen still clinging to his vision like frost at the edges of a windowpane.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Yamori said, retrieving the saber. "We have the wingless who can fly, brainiacs who can read minds--see the kinky shit that gets them off. I saw a guy move a truck off another car with nothing but his mind! Good on him. Good to know there are a few nice folks willing to help someone in need."

Uhan dashed at the gecko again, stumbling forward. Yamori side stepped, slapping the wolf's rear with the side of the blade, provoking a yelp as Uhan fell face first. "That's for the little chokehold. That hurt!"

"Let me at it again, ya shimmering freak," Uhan growled, hopping back to his feet. "I'll make it quick and painless next time."

Yamori sauntered to the other side of the statue he'd caught the wolf groping--a barrier protecting him from the brute. "I'm not sure which hurts more: the fact you want to kill me or the 'shimmering freak' comment." The gecko glanced at his arms, at his torso, noting how his skin still shimmered in the cool glow of the museum lights. A few more minutes. "Although I do admit, I did get one of the fruitier abilities. Would have signed up for something better. Who wants to be a one-man light show? Telekinesis. That's real power!"

The bulky, musclebound wolf stomped around the statue, Yamori tapping the blade onto the plinth tauntingly as he kept his distance. "Come here," Uhan snarled. "I'll give you a sample of my own ability. Of my power."

Yamori chuckled. "Trust me, I'd love that...although not in the context you're suggesting." The gecko ducked instinctively when a paw swiped at him, still chuckling. "Need to watch out for those!"

Despite his vision fully clear again, Uhan felt his mind go fuzzy with anger as the two spun this way and that around the statue, the gecko making cocky comments as he kept his distance, chuckling all the while, tapping the saber again and again. He worried the blade might break. What would Mr. Rawlings think if it did?

"Why not just give up already and call the cops?" Yamori offered. "I'm not letting you catch me a second time."

"Don't need no cops. You're just lucky we're in this museum. I would have nabbed you again by now if I didn't have to..."

"Didn't have to what?" Yamori said mockingly. "Worry about all these precious little things that just sit here and collect dust?"

The wolf's ears swiveled. His head spun to a hallway: the art gallery.

The blade clanged against the statue after a mighty swing, leaving a scar on the unflinching bronze face.

Uhan bared his teeth and growled: "You little fuck! Don't do that!"

More annoying chuckling. "What? Just a statue." Yamori swung again, threatening to castrate the metal human who could do nothing but stare blankly in one direction. Instead, a mark marred the crotch, eliciting another ferocious growl and a few more swipes. The button of Uhan's security guard shirt snapped off and clinked across the room, revealing more thick, white fur from his muscular chest. Yamori smiled. "Silly wolf! Your statue doesn't have a real dick. Want me to leave you two alone? Didn't mean to interrupt earlier. Well, actually--I lied. I did mean to interrupt."

Another clang. Another snarl.

"Give me that fucking sword."

"What?" Yamori said, as if he needed the wolf to speak up.

"Give me that sword."

"What? Can't hear you through all that growling."

"Give it to me!"

"You want it?" Yamori said, offering up the sword with a half-hearted gesture. "Then make your lineage proud and fetch!"

Uhan's head tore upward as the sword spun in the air. He had to catch it. Couldn't let it bust to pieces hitting the floor. And then he would catch the gecko and beat his face in. Bust _that_to pieces.

The wolf snatched the blade up during its descent, grabbing it safely by the hilt. He then turned to face Yamori, his scent saying he'd returned to the far wall from earlier. There he clung, both feet and a hand attaching himself to the wall, the other clutching a war club that had been hanging there from its mount.

"Are any of these even worth stealing?" Another weapon went flying. The wolf snatched it up dutifully. During that time, the gecko scurried to another display: a shelf showcasing different helmets damaged by war and time. The gecko bobbed one helmet made of brass and leather in his hand, as if estimating its weight. He lobbed it at the wolf. "Ugly." Next: an iron helmet. Lobbed it. Then a steel helmet. That one went flying too. "Might catch me a couple bucks at the scrapyard. Not worth my time."

Arms full of helmets, the wolf snarled. "What kind of thief throws away the things he manages to get his hands on?"

Yamori crawled further up the wall to a safer height, the big wolf approaching. "You really think I'm here for junk weapons? A few rusty helmets?"

"Then why are you here?" the wolf spat as he set the helmets down. "Leave the old man's place alone. He spent his whole life building up this museum, collecting everything, showing everyone why it's worth visiting Amberbrook. He's proud of our history. Just leave already."

"Oh, trust me. There's one sword and helmet I'd like to see before I go." Yamori chuckled, licking an eye. "God, even that was lame for me." He licked the other eye. "Pardon the eye thing. Just want to make sure I get a good look at the hung wolf people talk about around here. The guy who bar hops every full moon and fucks everyone silly. Not much for crowds, so I wanted to see this infamous wolf in his natural habitat. Alone." The gecko gave an approving nod, eyeing the wolf's bulge running down a pant leg. "Color me impressed."

"Well come down here for a close up. I'd love to make things nice and personal."

That tongue shot out for another eye lick. The wolf launched himself across the room and leapt. The gecko scurried up the wall as his tongue retreated. A gasp escaped as the wolf's force yanked Yamori's toe pads from the wall. His body crashed into a mannequin wearing a 200-year-old uniform worn during the Great Battle of Amberbrook. Uniform pieces scattered over the floor. Yamori scampered to his feet as the wolf roared in frustration. Leapt on top of him.

"You'll pay for that!"

"You threw me!" The gecko wailed as Uhan bore his weight down. Seized the back of Yamori's neck. He was barely more than three fourths the wolf's size! Yamori gasped as Uhan squeezed his neck tighter. Claws dug in. Threatened to puncture him. Bleed him out. "You threw me! We can put that uniform back together just fine. All I did was put a couple tiny scratches in that dumb statue. That's it. I can buff that out!"

"Shut up!"

"A million apologies, big guy!"

"Not so cocky now, are we?"

The gecko replied with silence, all his muscles tense and frozen. The wolf's grin widened, baring teeth that glimmered from the dim glow of the room, from the gecko's skin that still shimmered from whatever strange ability, presumably, the gecko used moments ago. Uhan's eyes darted over the papillose skin...could feel each individual bump along his paw pads as he kept the gecko immobilized. Uhan dipped his head to the side of Yamori's. The gecko couldn't help but bear all that lupine weight. The bulge in the wolf's pants pressed against him. He could smell the wolf's hot breath. Could taste it. Yanking the gecko's head back, Uhan whispered, "Bet you'd love it if I got a little cocky with you instead."

Even from this angle, the wolf could see the slow workings of a grin crawl across the gecko's face, then the shuddering of a few held-back chuckles.

"What?" the wolf demanded.

Laughter echoed down the four halls. Snarling, the wolf spun the gecko around by the shoulders and pinned his wrists to the floor, watching those big eyes alight with humor...with whatever the hell this wall-clinger found funny.

"What?"

"Goodness, that is so fuckin' hot," he said before imitating the wolf's gruff voice: "'You'd love it if I got a little cocky instead.'" Both males glanced down, a sizeable tent forming in Yamori's pants. "Didn't think I'd be into that: the man-handling. But damn--_feeling how strong you are, all those muscles, that _bulge of yours...mph!"

The wolf prepared to snarl back an insult, but he felt the lights dim in the room. Yamori...his skin ceased glowing as if a fire inside him had suddenly extinguished. If the gecko could wink, the face he gave Uhan said he would have.

The flash again.

Uhan tried to slam his eyes shut in time, some gut-deep instinct sending its electricity through his skin, warning him about the upcoming stars, iridescent and overwhelming, coming to invade his vision. Both paws loosened their grips. Uhan could feel the gecko slip away, padding back to the wall where he originally came. The wolf felt he had lost a piece of himself as he knelt on the floor, stunned, until he felt that instinct, that growling thing churning inside him, warp into something that burned and crackled.

A roar rose from him like smoke. Like billowing smoke. It bellowed out his gaping maw, dark and angry.

He could not see. But he could smell and hear, and he stomped to the sound of Yamori scurrying up the wall...could smell the faint bitterness of fear that trailed him despite his laughter seconds ago. Launching into the air, he swiped and swiped until his forearm made contact, batting the gecko off the wall and into a collection of small war pistols, all clanging and clattering across the floor. Uhan's body smashed into a glass display housing the currency used during the Great Battle of Amberbrook, metal coins clanging and spinning and rolling in haphazard directions. Broken glass littered the floor. Some threatened to penetrate the wolf's flesh.

The gecko grunted from the fall, but he ignored the pain, how the wind almost knocked out of him. He slipped down the closest hallway towards one of the exhibits, past photographs and paintings of local wildlife in their ornate frames. Behind him, the huge wolf snarled and swiped at nothing, glass crunching underneath his feet. He could hear him pause to sniff the air, scrounging for Yamori's scent, before lumbering down the hallway after him. Those frames plummeted to the floor, the glass cracking, hinges splitting as Uhan swiped at the air in hopes that he'd nab the gecko in the crossfire of his claws.

Yamori's eyes dashed around the smaller room he found himself in, his heart pounding from the run and the realization that perhaps he'd disturbed the dormant beast inside Uhan. Lifelike animal statues inhabited the room, frozen mid-run, mid-hunt, or mid-roar as information panels described their names and ecological roles in the surrounding region. In the center of the room, a raised dome housed a map of the area, pinpointing the habitats of the various animals in the room. All the walls, unfortunately, held glass shelving, showing off odds and ends and oddities of the animal kingdom. Worst of all: no emergency exit.

And this was the wrong room.

"Shit."

Yamori slid behind the room's centerpiece. It wouldn't be long before Uhan's eyesight would be restored. He had to get to the correct room. Would the wolf eat him? He'd heard stories. Wolves devouring victims. Truly awful villains. He was nothing like that.

Yamori glanced at one empty display, a sign asking patrons to forgive their transition as the museum awaited a shipment. He briefly wondered what would go there. There were no wolves in the room. Wolves didn't live in the area, though they existed. Feral ones. If he were to somehow kill Uhan, he wondered if perhaps his body would be on display here in this empty spot. That wolf owned this town--the natural apex predator...at least during the full moon when he was like this: bestial, carnal. An animal.

A huff inside the room. An angry breath. Claws scraped the floor. Uhan searched.

Yamori looked at a statue of a sea mink, gone extinct more than a hundred years ago. The mink seemed to smile. Offered its assistance. Yamori lifted the heavy thing, holding back a grunt. Sat back down, his back to the raised dome.

The wolf growled. Sniffed the air. Sniffed around for Yamori's scent, for his trail.

Yamori peered to one corner. A wolf tail smacked the side of the raised dome.

Shit.

He shot his look to the other corner: Uhan's bare teeth. A snarl. Hot, angry breaths.

The statue came down.

Hard.

Yamori didn't know what the wolf did next as he dashed down the hall and over the clutter of broken picture frames. He knew he needed to get to the correct room. Didn't they hang signs up? Posted arrows and directions on the walls? He could barely think. Could barely remember the layout of the museum.

No sound from the wolf echoed down the biology exhibit after him. No growling. Did Yamori knock him out? Kill him?

I'm not a murderer. I'm not like_them. _Not at all.

Avoiding the broken glass, Yamori dashed for the opposite room. Yes, the room he should have made for from the gecko. He smirked. Get-go. Gecko. Get it? But even as he dashed for the art room, he knew that none of his jokes and puns could smother the tingle of fear he felt sending shivers through his coruscating skin.

His foot stomped onto a stray piece of armor. A metal shoulder piece. It scraped across the floor, sliding beneath him. Yamori fell. Hit his knee. Cursed. Just like the goddamn horror movies: fleeing, falling, and... Yamori gulped. He knew what was next, even before the wolf lunged through the air and tackled him. Their bodies tumbled through the main room, so fast that any onlookers wouldn't be able to distinguish wolf from gecko.

"Listen here, you little fuck!" Uhan snarled, baring teeth. A paw clutched Yamori's throat.

"Listening," the gecko managed. He felt dizzy. "Listening!"

"Look what you did!"

A paw forced Yamori to face the damage in the room: the broken glass, the scattered armor, the saber from earlier. A stack of helmets and the club. Coins everywhere. Scratch marks on the walls from where Uhan had swiped at him, trying to catch the intruder.

"But nothing important broke."

A cough. A gasp. The paw clenched tighter.

"You don't fucking get it. The old man put me in charge of this place. He trusted me. And a piece of shit like you just thinks he can come in here. Grab whatever he wants. No hard work. No honesty."

"I didn't...steal anything...."

Uhan briefly shut his eyes. "No," he said, almost too calm. A calm that sent a shiver through the gecko. The world spun. Yamori let out a gasp. He lay belly-side now. Tried to stand up. Scamper away. But the wolf held him down. Tore off his running tights. His last good pair! "But I've got something you'll have to take."

The gecko let out a shout. Where was everybody?

The wolf emitted a deep groan as he unzipped himself. "Never had lizard before..."

Yamori felt something thick and heavy slap against his bare, exposed rear.

He was at the wolf's mercy.

Yamori shouted again. No response. No help. No one coming for him. Just gruff breathing from behind as Uhan kept him pinned to the cold, hard floor. One paw lifted up his tail. The other spread a cheek apart, revealing a tight, sensitive hole. A spot of pink on the gecko's colorful body.

"This is really happening, isn't it?" Yamori whined.

Uhan grunted as his paw stroked his dick to its full hardness. Ten inches. His erection came quick. The bulbous head dripped pre.

Yamori's tailhole winked, anticipating what was to come. His whole body tensed. Felt his dick twitch despite the situation. Despite the fact the wolf was about to force himself onto the gecko.

Into him.

The wolf grinned, smelling the beginnings of the gecko's arousal. The wolf gave a few warning smacks with his erection. He couldn't believe how hard he was from this.

A fire roared inside him. Heat invaded his body, the anger from the destruction Yamori had caused transforming the growing lust from the coming full moon into dominance.

Into punishment.

Uhan didn't say anything. He felt the weight of his cock, fully hard. Felt the pleasure of his paw stroking himself. Looked at how the head of his dick bulged mightily, leaking clear, musky fluid. Fuck, it was unbelievable. Probably harder than the barrel of a rifle right now. He looked down at the full length of his shaft, so long and ready. Strings of pre just oozing down.

As soon as Yamori began another sentence, began his plea for forgiveness, to be released, the wolf slipped in. Yamori's ass took about four inches before there was too much resistance.

The gecko yelped.

The wolf sighed. He reached down and yanked more of his pants down, his large, furry balls dropping heavily, full of seed. His tail swished back and forth.

In unison, Yamori sucked in a breath. Uhan pulled back until the fat head plopped free from the tight sphincter that held on so tightly. A pleasurable growl escaped. That felt good. That tight hole clenching around the head of his dick that leaked more and more pre felt so damn good.

The gecko writhed beneath him, unable to move. The wolf slipped in again, faster, deeper. Six inches this time. The gecko begged for him to stop. It hurt. It fucking hurt.

Uhan pulled back. The tight sphincter held on. The fat, bulbous head plopped free. More pre leaking. More pleasure. The wolf's tail smacked back and forth harder.

Again.

Even faster. Even deeper.

Eight inches this time. Almost there.

Yamori cried out. His body trembled. He was so tight. This was pain. But he deserved it. All the wolf could think was that this fucking piece of shit deserved it.

One last time. A final, quick thrust. All ten inches buried deep inside him. Uhan let out a growl, rearing his head back as his huge body, his huge balls slapped into the gecko's plump rear. Yamori cursed. Cried for help. Tried to lift his body up with shaky arms, his toe pads sticking to the floor. A big paw around his neck forced him back down.

"No one's coming for you," Uhan growled--the last thing he would say until he was finished, until he emptied the huge nuts that lay on the mounds of Yamori's rump. Until he was satisfied.

Yamori's skin still scintillated from using his dazzle ability moments ago. But the wolf knew he was safe until that went out. Safe to have his way with the gecko.

Uhan began fucking him.

The thrusting was nonstop and intense. Yamori felt his rear burning, Uhan's thickness stretching him wide. His body spasmed and writhed as the wolf prodded deep parts of him. Sometimes hurting. Mostly hurting.

Drool seeped from Yamori's mouth. His tongue could taste the floor. The wolf clutched his neck the whole time with one paw, the other sometimes smacking his rear or holding down one of Yamori's arms that would attempt to move him free. Grunting, the wolf pounded him relentlessly, fat balls slapping against Yamori's rear over and over again.

Yes, it sometimes hurt. Mostly hurt. Yamori would curse. He'd distract himself by counting all the tiles he could see. Black, white, black, white. But sometimes...just sometimes the wolf's dick would prod his insides the right way, touch something deep in him that wanted to be touched. Yamori would lose count of the tiles and let out a little cry. A small pleasurable cry. His dick would twitch. Harden just a little bit.

Another pleasurable prod despite the pain.

Yamori hardened a little bit more. Just a little bit more.

The gecko cried out. Stars pelted his vision. His dick twitched, fully hard. His full seven inches, battering against the floor with each thrust from the wolf, dabbing it with pre.

But he wouldn't touch himself. No he wouldn't. Not from this...

The wolf grunted, looking down as that thick rod of his slipped in and out, in and out. Hard. Veiny. Almost ready to cum.

More wolf grunts as pounded faster. Felt that tingle work up his balls, sending its fluttering wings into his gut and thighs. Felt the head of his dick overwhelm the rest of his body with the pleasure signals it was firing. He was close. He was going to cum.

Uhan growled. Forcing his weight down hard so that Yamori slid across the floor with each thrust. Crammed all ten inches of his dick in him. Yamori whined each time. The pain... Too rough. He was pounding so hard. Too hard. Too frantically. Harder and harder.

Yamori cried out. Tears stung his eyes. He was soft again. His insides were on fire. The wolf bore more of his weight on him until the gecko could barely breathe from the endless tirade of thrusts. Yamori could do nothing but cry out again...to the quiet emptiness of the museum.

Finally, the wolf let a rumble deep in his chest burst into a howl as he gave one last heave. His balls pulled in close. The pleasure became too much, and he felt his hard dick spasm and spasm. Cum gushed generously from his dick. Thick, white streaks. It seemed almost endless, the wolf's howl transitioning into a succession of pleasurable pants and grunts as his dick shot jet after jet of his seed.

After the last spasm, his dick still incredibly hard, Uhan pulled out. His dick smacked against his muscular torso. Cum dripped from the gecko's gaping hole. Some pooled onto the floor.

Yamori let out a few breaths. His whole body seemed to ache. His rear screamed in pain. He wouldn't shit right for weeks.

Uhan looked at the trembling, heaving lizard before him. The torn pants clung on, torn open like two pages of a book. Yamori lifted himself weakly, then glanced back, eyes wide, The face of pain and worry.

Fear.

Uhan blinked.

His mother looked up at her son from the bottom of the stairwell, fresh from a fall. Such a beautiful wolf: sleek gray fur, soothing blue eyes that bespoke comfort, a smile that seemed to have no end. But not today. Her eyes blistered with tears. Her face tore up from a deep frown, a deep sadness as she clutched her broken wrist. Car keys lay cold and hard in Uhan's paw. He was 16, dammit, and deserved to drive! Deserved to be a fucking kid for once and not worry about how his body betrayed him, worse than the puberty any other teenager had to face. He couldn't control himself. Couldn't help but smash kids into their lockers, ones that used to bully him through primary school. When he was weak. Useless. They were all monsters. They deserved pain. Deserved punishment.

But now he was a monster. His mother looked up at him. Fear disfigured her face. Betrayal. That's what she felt. Her son, her sweet son had hurt her. What did she do to deserve this? And all Uhan could think about were her smiles. Her comforting smiles that silently made the other monsters go away.

Please smile, Mom. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to hurt you!

Uhan blinked again.

Yamori stared back at him, eyes still wide with fear. And hurt.

Uhan let go. Sat back hard, his male-hood, now flaccid, flopping onto the floor, his balls pooling underneath. His tail didn't move. His ears lay flat against his head. Breathing came in steady and slow.

Yamori scampered to his feet. His skin lost its glow, the refractory period finally extinguished. The wolf just looked at him, in a daze, before turning away to gaze somewhere else. Yamori was about to ignite the room with his dazzling light and escape, but a deep part of him knew that wasn't necessary. Something had snapped in the wolf's mind. Tempted to offer a hand and ask what was wrong, instead the gecko pulled up what was left of his running tights, covering his sex. Walked funny down the hall where paintings once hung, now gone. Entered the art room. Everything that hung on the walls or sat on a shelf looking pretty--now gone. All of it.

A twinge of guilt twisted in his gut. Yamori ignored it.

He shouted. Waited. Shouted again.

Nothing.

He worried the wolf would snap from whatever daze that had taken hold--a daze not caused by Yamori's own ability--and come grab him. Force the gecko to choke down that huge dick this time. Maybe he'd finish the job and kill him instead with one well-placed swipe of those claws. Or even worse: he'd make him stay and clean up the mess. That would take all night!

Yamori shouted again.

For a split second, the air ebbed with a sort of static energy. Harru appeared, his hooves clopping onto the floor. Half zebra, half unicorn. All muscle. He was huge. Probably a half-foot taller than the wolf. Yamori had never felt so relieved seeing that collection of black stripes again.

Nikk sat on Harru's shoulder, half the zebracorn's size, clutching Harru's horn that spiraled black and white. More relief seeing the red panda again, although he had dyed his fur a dark, metallic blue a while back. A blue panda, Yamori supposed.

Nikk gave a knowing grin. "Sounds like you were having a good time while we worked."

Yamori ignored his comment: "What took you so long?"

Nikk's freakishly long tail gripped Yamori's arm.

"Coulda used some serious help back there," Yamori continued.

A moment of static energy again. Yamori stepped into the cool evening air, the rumble of passing cars, and the various smells of restaurants finishing up their dinner rushes. A white-hot moon blistered in the sky, just above the city buildings. A few pedestrians walked to and fro on the street, unaware of anything. Distracted by the promises of beer and conversation and booty calls for the lucky few.

Their van waited by the curb, Cibba giving a thumb's up from the driver's seat. For a moment Yamori envied the human who could only drive. A normie with no powers. No animal blood either. Normal. Just normal.

Without missing a beat, Nikk scoffed and said, "I ain't going in dealing with that mutt. He'd eat me! One chomp. Just one!"

"You ain't that short. Plus, you have Harru to protect you."

"This big lug?" Nikk twisted his fist into the zebracorn's head. "He's a total wimp! You know he's no help!"

Harru huffed at the fuzzy creature slipping off from his shoulder, mumbling under his breath. His huge body piled into the back of the van with all the paintings, ornate ceramic pieces, and other artistic crap all done by local artists. Most of the paintings had tripled in worth once the artist had died, Cibba had reported--always the detective. They had to make the hit. And Yamori had to do his part: act as bait, as the distraction. He glanced back at the museum building, its old brick outerwear betraying its age. Probably one of the first built in this town. His old hometown he now rarely visited.

Yamori wondered if he should have told the crew that Uhan was only this big near the full moons. The human knew. But Yamori swore him to secrecy. Forced him to keep up a lie that would allow the gecko to meet the wolf in this form. Big. Strong. Dangerous. And...enticing.

Cibba looked at him as he started the van, noticing the tattered pants. His eyes were soft. Empathetic.

Yamori hissed when he sat down.

"You okay?"

The human's question reminded Yamori of the pain he felt everywhere. All of it. Even beyond the physical. In the back, Nikk cheered at their haul, slugging Harru playfully on the shoulder. The night, all in all, was a success.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

The gecko looked in the passenger side's rear-view mirror. Watched as the building grew tiny and disappeared as the van turned, making their way back home to Cornucopia with the haul. They joined the other vehicles that bombarded the roads splitting through the area's thick foliage. Tourists, mostly. A few locals. And one of them a rumbling van full of thieves and the haul they were able to collect undetected. The other two back home would be pleased.

Yamori sighed again, eyes moving to the road ahead, the road that would take him home in the big city--their humble hideout by the water. He tried to focus his thoughts on his cut of the loot once they cashed in their haul. Always a buyer in Cornucopia. Always someone there yearning for something they didn't have.

The gecko sighed once more.

"Yeah, I'm okay."