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LYKOS

Third Age

Chapter 7

(Christmas Moon)

The quiet of the hospital was almost alarming to Marco. It was, in a strange way, perhaps the first time he'd felt like a werewolf since losing his powers. He was alone in the silence save for the faintest of senses. He could smell the tang of the sanitizers in the air. He could hear distant elevators shuddering, thumps against the wall traveling through the building, the pops and snaps of the hvac system adjusting to different temperatures. He had felt almost reluctant at first, but it seemed that he'd taken on a lot of obligations for the betterment of others and that was enough. A gentle triple-knock shattered the silence as Marco looked up. He was met with a bright, cheerful smile and a shock of reddish auburn hair. His blue scrubs contrasted but seemed well fit.

"Mister Iona, I'm Austin, I'll be helping Doctor Woods with the blood sample today." he introduced. Marco nodded a bit at that.

"Thank you." Marco said out of habit more than anything. Austin nodded and moved over, pulling over the metal tray as he sat down on the rolling stool. The young man took a practiced seat, his legs practically bent like butterfly wings to anchor him in the right spot.

"Do you have any questions about today?" Austin asked as he used a purple elastic strap to tie off Marco's arm, using his gloved fingers to check for veins he could use. Once he found an ideal candidate, he used a sanitizing wipe to clean the skin.

"Not really, I've had blood drawn before but not in a while." Marco said. Austin smiled.

"Not since before the change, I'd imagine?" Austin asked. Marco looked up at the nurse in surprise, then down at his badge when something caught him by surprise. Next to the smiling photograph was a surname, and a familiar one at that - Halyard.

"Does your father work at the school?" Marco asked, half out of curiosity and half out of deflection. Austin nodded.

"Yes, he's a guidance counselor there. Have you met him?" Austin asked. Marco looked Austin over up and down, taking in his somewhat elfin features and fair face, lithe body and energetic spirit.

"I have, he was one of the people that helped turn me onto this path." Marco said, "So you know about the change?" he asked. Austin nodded.

"Oh yes. Maybe not yours so much until recently, but I've heard good things." Austin said, pausing, "Alright, slight pinch." Austin warned before he broke Marco's skin with the needle. Marco clenched his eyes shut for a moment before exhaling, looking down to watch the very dark red liquid start to spill into the chamber.

"Your dad hinted that he wasn't a werewolf but he was something else." Marco commented. Austin gave a wry smile at that.

"I guess he's feeling that trickster spirit." Austin said, "Plus it's still in our nature to hide. Not all of the other weres were outed." Austin said, focusing on his work despite the conversation, "Almost done..." he murmured, drawing back on the plunger slowly and steadily, trying to connect enough.

"Are you going to tell me?" Marco asked with a grin. Austin smirked a little.

"Now where's the fun in that?" he asked, "But I'm a kitsune." He added. Marco's eyes widened a bit and Austin used that moment to draw the needle back out without any fuss. A cotton swab was slipped into place and secured with tape. The nurse slid his stool over to another table where several glass vials waited, some with milky looking liquids in the bottom. Austin slipped the needle through the rubber membrane to add a portion of the sample to each vial, carefully checking the levels until he was complete. He shook the samples up before applying labels from the sticker sheet - though the name was an alias Doctor Woods used for secrecy sake.

"A kitsune..." Marco murmured, "Your dad too?"

"That's usually how it works." Austin chuckled, "But we both want to thank you for what you're doing. Not just this, but all of it." he said. Marco hesitated a little.

"It feels like the least I can do." Marco admitted. Austin shook his head.

"If that's the least, then the stories I heard must all be true. I can't even imagine what the most would be. After what Futurza did, I can't imagine anyone volunteering to help us out like this." Austin admitted.

"Well, that does make me ask the question... If Futurza couldn't see any real difference between werewolves and humans when it came to scientific questions, what is Doctor Woods doing?" Marco asked. Austin smiled a bit.

"Part of it is the scientific method, part of it is just the general need." Austin said, removing the band from Marco's arm and sterilizing the area, "Just because a test provided no results doesn't mean you stop testing. There are going to be more creatures here than ever before, and if anyone gets hurt, they're going to come here. Doctor Woods and our team will treat them. We need to understand as much as we can to help as many as we can."

"Now there's a motto I can identify with." Marco smiled. Austin grinned at that.

"So am I going to be like... a control or something?" Marco asked. Austin smirked.

"That's for the doctor to decide, but yeah, something like that. At the very least you're a unique case." Austin said, "You're also all finished." he added.

"Do I get a lollipop?" Marco asked. Austin's eyes narrowed a little shrewdly.

"I'm sure I can find something sweet for ya big guy." he smiled warmly. Marco felt oddly at ease around the nurse and nodded. He had to give him credit, with a bedside manner like that he surely helped a lot of happy patients.

****

Marco's walk back across campus was peaceful bordering on the edge of eerie. Grand Mesa's campus started thinning out during finals week as some students finished their classes ahead of others, but on the first Saturday afterwards it was a ghost town. Echo Creek bubbled and sloshed its way down the zig zag channel that bisected campus. The snow covered the sidewalks and the quad equally with only Marco's footprints to disturb the otherwise uniform surface. It took a little longer making it up the slight incline between the theater and the language building, half between the ice and half because Marco was starting to feel an unfamiliar burn in his calf muscles. As he thought about it, he realized just how much his ears stung and his cheeks burned. He tried not to let his human frailty ruin his mood, focusing instead on what the future held.

After the long, gradual climb up the steady slope to the area between the dorm buildings, it was an almost perilously quick trot down several cement steps into the recessed area around the Hawk's Nest. Even with the thin layer of snow, the decorative brick compass inlay into the stonework peeked out. During the school year the doors of Hawkstray hall were left unlocked during operating hours, but the steady red light indicated it had been locked down for winter break. Marco pulled out his ID card and swiped it through the reader, opening the door eagerly after the telltale click.

Just as the campus felt different without students, the Hawk's Nest was almost unrecognizable in the off season. The convenient store was locked up and only the fridge cooler lights remained on. The overhead lights were off and the bright neon green paint was too deep into the structure to reflect the light that spilled through the glass wall along the entrance. The pool tables were quiet, the laundry room was vacant and the chairs beneath the loft had been rearranged into a circle so Marco's pack could face one another.

"How was the doctor's visit?" Udo asked with a smile, sitting on crossed legs in the wide chair. Marco moved over to settle himself into the last one, rubbing his hands over his arms to try and warm up from the cold outside.

"It seemed fine. I met Mister Halyard's son, he's a nurse at the hospital and apparently also a kitsune." Marco said. Fletcher's eyes went wide and the chip he'd been aiming for his mouth hit his cheek instead, crumbling upon impact.

"A kitsune? You're kidding..." Fletcher said in awe.

"At the risk of fulfilling the dumb jock stereotype, I've heard that word before but I'm not familiar." Duncan said. Fletcher leaned over and riffled through his backpack before pulling out a notebook, flipping through everything he'd been scribbling before he gave a satisfied nod to himself, folding the pages back and setting the notebook on his lap.

"Kitsunes, or Kytos, are therianthropes that turn into foxes, sometimes with extra tales. Unlike werewolves, they do have some magical abilities of their own so they don't usually need keepers. According to Abel they don't have any extra strength and don't heal as fast as werewolves so they have to rely on their magic to stay ahead, earning them the reputation of trickster spirits." Fletcher explained.

"It's just one more sign of the diverse population we'll be interacting with when the next semester starts." Marco said.

"Is that the reason we are gathered here today?" Yom asked, running his fingers through his beard. Marco nodded at that, taking a bit of a breath.

"Last year we sort of scattered to the four winds for Christmas, but my parents still aren't done moving back to Hawaii, we just visited Yom's parents for Thanksgiving, and there isn't enough room for all of us at Fletcher's place in New York. I was thinking maybe we should stick around Echo Creek this year, especially since there's a full moon on Christmas morning." Marco said.

"I like the idea, but they don't let students stay in the dorms over winter break." Fletcher commented. Udo sat up a bit in his chair.

"Uh, I actually found a cabin that can be rented out for a reasonable price. It's a couple of miles out of town near a nice pond." Udo volunteered.

"Why were you scoping out cabins?" Yom asked, his eyebrow arching. Udo shrugged a bit at that, looking a little pale.

"I wasn't planning on going home for Christmas and I wasn't sure what everyone was going to do." Udo said. Marco looked at him with soft eyes before giving a nod.

"Then it's decided. We'll rent the cabin and have a cozy Christmas together and get ready to start the next semester fresh as mentors and guides to all the Therianthropes that show up." Marco said. Yom gave a gentle purr.

"I love it when you lead us." Yom said. Marco gave a grin back.

"I know you do. Now, pass me some snacks." Marco said. Yom grinned, leaning over to snatch a bag of jerky from the side of Fletcher's chair as he moved over to sit in Marco's lap. Marco let out a bit of breath as Yom's body weight settled onto him, but he murmured in bliss as his boyfriend leaned in to give him a fuzzy bearded kiss. Their lips met and their tongues danced, slipping and sliding and wrestling together. Marco was hard in moments, causing Yom to grind his hips to further entice his Alpha. Marco murmured before finally breaking the kiss to gasp for breath.

"Are you trying to tell me you're the snack?" Marco asked. Yom grinned and leaned down to give Marco a playful bite on the neck. Marco groaned, tangling his fingers in Artyom's thick hair, nearly having to pry him off, albeit a bit reluctantly, "Maybe we should go find some real food and then do whatever we have to in order to secure the cabin? We're going to need enough room so when we play, we all get to play together." Marco said. Yom gave a disappointed growl but relented, laying his head on Marco's shoulder instead.

"Well, if we're going to have a nice lunch to celebrate our Christmas plans, I think we better go with a New York tradition." Fletcher said, although he frowned a bit when he got four sets of blank stares. "Chinese food!" he explained, finally getting the reaction he wanted with enthusiastic agreements.

****

While the drab, gray weather outside was frightful, the inside of the Fortune Cookie restaurant was delightful. The furnishings were warmly polished cherry wood with gold gilding, each booth had warm cream light coming down from above and the food looked like something out of a dream. Five college students could obviously eat a lot, let alone three of them having werewolf metabolisms. As such the table had been loaded down with family style platters of orange chicken, lemon chicken, and general Tso's chicken, each glistening like precious jewels with flavorful glazes several centimeters thick. Perfect slices of oranges and lemons adorned their respective platters. Cups nearly ran over with sweet tea and a veritable garden of meat laced pineapple beef chow yuk and shrimp broccoli were littered around. A chorus of happy growls and moans came from the young men as they stuffed themselves with the feast, barely able to pause long enough to breathe.

The pack was quite literally packed into the booth, shoulder to shoulder, feeling each other shift as they snapped up their next delectable bites. Marco had been fairly certain he'd be the first one to get full, although it seemed Fletcher was coming up right behind him as his pace diminished. Still, maybe there was a chance for leftovers if he could manage to convince the others to take some pity on him. Still, it was hard not to love and admire the men that he considered his family, his lovers, his mates. Yom had gotten so burly and Duncan seemed to be trying to catch up, although while Artyom had him beat in height, Duncan was filling out with more muscles. Even Udo had gone through a bit of a growth spurt, catching up to and surpassing Fletcher finally.

"So how are we gonna do this mentor thing?" Fletcher asked before sipping some savory egg flour soup to fill in the gaps between the larger chunks of food in his stomach.

"It isn't like Ren can give lectures to all the new students, so I was thinking that you could get the important pieces from her and then act as the Keeper liaison." Marco said while looking at Fletch, "Yom, you have the experience of being born into a werewolf family and adapting to life among humans, and Udo..." Marco trailed off. Udo swallowed his bean sprouts.

"And I have the experience of being turned against my will and adjusting?" he asked. Marco gave a sheepish nod.

"Yeah, you do..." Marco said softly, "Those experiences represent a lot of the new students we'll be getting and your insights could be pivotal. I think we should come up with a sort of support group-like-club, a couple hours a week to answer questions and give insights.

"I think we're also going to get people like me, people who are going to show up precisely because there are werewolves and they want to be turned even if there's a risk of rejection. Not everyone's going to be as careful as you were." Fletcher said.

"I don't think that group gets a support group." Duncan said, dipping sliced pork into red sauce before dropping the whole thing into his mouth.

"We'll have to keep our eyes peeled though, Fletch is right. They'll probably look for any opportunity to get turned." Udo agreed.

"Some will get weeded out in the application process if they seem too enthusiastic, but that's a good point. We can offer guidance, share everything the keepers have learned about the risk of death, and try to help people be as safe as they can. I won't be naive and say we'll be able to stop someone that's utterly committed to changing their life that way, but we can try to make sure they're informed, warned, guided and helped however we can." Marco said.

"It shouldn't be too hard to get space and time for the support groups with the coalition of people invested in this." Duncan said before biting into one of the orange slices to savor the meaty sauce soaked pulp.

"So we have our assignments, but we've got a few weeks before we have to put them into practice, right?" Fletcher asked, clapping his hands together, "So I say we turn our attention to our cozy Christmas cabin! What games should I bring?" he asked with bright eyes.

****

It had been a year and a half since Marco had come to Echo Creek, but he still found himself adjusting to the scope of it all. They'd gone into the woods before and they'd been all around the Mesa, but Udo had managed to find a particularly unique vista that seemed untouched by the march of time. The Taxi driver had not seemed particularly enthused when his GPS cut out and fell back to the downloaded maps that were years out of date, but it had gotten the job done. Now the sound of feet crunching through the snow punctuated the steady progress the pack was making.

The snow beneath their feet was relatively light given the overarching canopy of trees that kept most of the flakes from getting all the way down, though a rustle came every so often as a bough gave out and dumped its burden to the earth below. Marco could hear the groan and creak of the branches, the flutter of birds, and in a strange way it was reassuring. As much as he'd tried to cope and adapt, losing his werewolf senses left him feeling almost deaf at times. He had no doubt the others were hearing a symphony of life and activity, but he was grateful just to hear anything.

"Remind me again why the taxi driver didn't come all the way down here?" Fletcher asked, his shoulders a bit hunched from the weight of the hiking backpack stuffed full of their various entertainment options for their stay. Udo smiled, a Rubbermaid bin of food stuffs held aloft in his arms.

"Well, for one there was that big chain for it being the off season." Udo said.

"I don't think he wanted to get mud on his car either." Yom said, a bit displeased by the fact that his boots were caked with the stuff. Despite looking like a wild man, Artyom had lived a somewhat pampered life. Duncan, meanwhile, seemed far more at ease leading the group. He had a huge backpack on and carried a duffel in each hand as he trotted down the gradual decline.

"This isn't laid out like a getaway neighborhood..." Duncan said, his eyes peering through the trees. He followed the path they were taking, noticing regular intervals where the long los denoting the side of the road stopped, then started again. "Udo, was this place a resort?" he asked. Udo smiled a bit.

"Well, not exactly, it was actually a summer camp back when the town was first founded. The idea to have a safe place for werewolves to come was at the heart of it, but before the school was built they had a summer camp. It eventually fell away because they felt having too many activities here could compromise the safety of the secret, but a few of the cabins were updated to act as vacation destinations." Udo said.

"Isn't there some horror movie about a monster killing people at a summer camp?" Yom asked. Duncan smirked.

"Big tough Russian afraid of some bears out here?" Duncan asked. Yom didn't give him the satisfaction of a growl.

"Just trying to get a feel for what we're walking into." Yom said, shifting the weight of the roll up mattress they'd brought.

"I think it'll be fine. After everything that happened in the box canyon, no one's really eager to go back there. Finding alternative sites is a really good idea." Marco said, raining in the moods of his band of misfits.

The hike was beautiful, but it started to get a lot prettier as peeks of green hued water peeked out from between the trees to their right. The dirt path they were walking down curved and disappeared off to the left up ahead, but situated at the end of their current path was a respectably sized wood shingled cabin on a bit of land overlooking a body of water somewhere between the size of a pond and a lake. The bones of the cabin looked old, mainly the support columns and the corners, but it had been updated and maintained enough over the years and the windows all looked fairly recent.

Udo increased his pace enough to pass Duncan, setting the food trunk down on the ground before he reached into his pocket and withdrew the key. He opened the door and sniffed at the air inside. It was a little dusty, not quite stale given some faint drafts, and it certainly had its own scent, but it would work. Udo came back out and picked back up the food trunk and moved into the kitchen to start putting stuff away. One by one the others followed, though Artyom and Fletcher lingered behind.

"Taking in the old Americana?" Fletcher asked, looking up at Yom.

"I think I had a tree house bigger than this." Yom smirked. Fletcher rolled his eyes.

"If you could survive in the sardine can that was our first dorm room, you're going to be fine here. You don't even have to share the shower if you don't want to." Fletcher said, stepping around Yom to enter the cabin.

"But I like sharing the shower!" he protested, catching up to the others.

It hadn't taken too long to unpack their supplies, stocking the kitchen with the food and unfurling their mattress over the beds in the bedroom after they'd pushed them together. The mattress was one of Faulkner Cove's best camping mattresses, made of a durable rubber like material. Inflatable mattresses didn't last more than a few minutes around the claws of a werewolf, but this mattress had proven effective on a few full moons already. Marco had to give credit to whoever managed the cabin. There were just enough furnishings that nothing was missing, but nothing extra that made it feel like someone else's house. It was better than a hotel and very easy to adjust to.

The curtains had been pulled back from the sliding glass door, revealing a snow covered beach leading down to a short dock. Some sort of wood platform was anchored near the center of the lake, currently being monitored by a pair of ducks that seemed to be taking a break from paddling around. Marco stood at the glass, looking out at the view, catching faint reflections of the others as they pulled out various pillows and changes of clothes to take to the bedroom. He smiled a bit, wondering if they'd still be dabbling in homemaking like that in a few years time, when they'd graduated and moved on from college.... Would the world be ready for them then? Would it have been enough time to adapt? Would he still have a place as a human in a pack of therianthropes?

"Marco, what do you think we should play first? Forbidden Island or Dungeon Awakening?" Fletcher asked, unzipping his pack.

"Not Dungeon Awakening, roleplaying games are like video games where I have to do all the math and I suck at math..." Duncan groaned. Fletcher looked over at him, seeming a bit hurt.

"But there isn't another game out there where you can customize your character so completely. You can make your character look any way you want, with any backstory. Just imagine yourself becoming something else, a muscled, hunky orc with big tusks and a mysterious scar..." Fletcher whispered.

"You do know that I can turn into a werewolf almost at will, right?" Duncan asked, "Claws and fangs?"

"Okay, maybe the wrong crowd..." Fletcher groused, setting the rule book aside as he dug deeper for other sources of distraction. Udo emerged from the bathroom having dropped off his personal hygiene kit. He had been heading to walk over to where the television was but slowed when he spotted Marco still looking out of the window. He moved over, reaching to wrap an arm around Marco's waist.

"Big thoughts on big shoulders?" Udo asked. Marco smiled a little bashfully.

"Some old, some new, some borrowed, some blue." Marco said quietly, "But this is all a really good idea." he amended before pausing, "If we'd all gone to our different places, were you going to come out here by yourself?" Marco asked. Udo's arm tightened slightly around Marco's back before he nodded.

"My parents flipped out about the Sanctuary City thing. They don't even know I'm a werewolf. Honestly, even if I hadn't been bitten, I wouldn't have wanted to go back there. Now that I'm actually me, that I'm different, that I have a family that loves me here? I guess I just don't know how to cut things off." Udo said.

"Is he the kind of guy that might come out here to get you?" Marco asked. Udo seemed to grow almost as pale as the snow.

"I don't think so, but that would be awful... Usually he just makes everyone else do things for him. God, I can't imagine him coming out here." Udo shivered.

"Well, you found the perfect wolf's den. No one will find us out here." Marco said.

"Don't say that until we have more food delivered. I'm going to have to give the pizza guy a hell of a tip to come this far out." Udo smirked. Marco leaned over and kissed the top of Udo's head, inhaling his natural scent. Udo smiled and leaned into it for a moment before giving Marco one last squeeze, detaching himself to move over and finish unpacking. Marco turned around to look at them all, seeing how each of his boys played a role, played their part and contributed to the greater whole. It was going to be a great vacation, but it would also lay the groundwork for everything they were going to contribute to the new class of supernatural creatures that would soon call Echo Creek home as well.

****

The fire crackled steadily, the wood glowing like molten stones breaking out of a charred black shell. The heat spilled out across the living room, keeping it comfortable. The coffee table still had the remains of one of Fletcher's board games, the little painted plastic pieces toppled over from when Duncan had bumped the table when he got up to go to the kitchen. They'd gotten better at the game on their third attempt and it had proven a welcome distraction. Fletcher looked over as Duncan returned, carrying seven brown glass bottles in his hands as he came back.

"Are those beers?" Fletcher asked. Duncan shook his head.

"Not really? Right now it's called Soma, some ancient word for Ambrosia or whatever, but with Werewolves being out and proud they're thinking of rebranding to something more wolf themed. Since werewolves metabolize differently than humans, they came up with something to bridge the gap." Duncan said, setting them down before handing one to Marco, "Plus they have the original kind as well."

"If I recall correctly, some werewolves have an easy enough time falling under the influence of substances." Marco said. Artyom pursed his lips.

"I've been told that the kiss that led to me biting your tongue and turning you into a werewolf was erotic and delightful." Yom protested, popping open his bottle.

"It was CPR, not a kiss, but I'd have to agree with you on the rest when looking back at it. Maybe not so much in the moment." Marco smirked. Yom grinned and tipped the bottle back, his eyes closing just a bit as he scrutinized the flavor. Fletcher was the next to partake and took a big swig, though his cheeks puffed out like a squirrel for a moment before he swallowed. Udo was a little more hesitant, taking a few sips before he lowered the bottle.

"It tastes... slippery? Slick?" He considered.

"Maybe the phrase you're looking for are non-Newtonian, long chain molecules?" Fletcher asked. Yom took another swig before looking at Duncan.

"Do you know the people making this stuff?" he asked. Duncan blushed and nodded.

"A couple of recent graduates opened their own brewery, they've got a few Keepers that are working with them." Duncan said.

"Maybe it isn't a beer, or shouldn't be. Maybe if it was carbonated it could be something else?" Udo offered hopefully. Marco smirked.

"You all sure are selling the experience, it doesn't sound like I'm missing out on anything." Marco said, opening his more conventional beer and taking a sip. He tilted his head to one side and then the other before bringing it back again, "Not terrible."

"I think we have a winner." Fletcher smirked, setting his drink down on the table so he could focus on cleaning up the game pieces.

"I also got an email back from the president, they approved the support group idea but his office will get back to us about locations." Marco said.

"See, we're still getting stuff done even in a remote cabin in the woods, and we haven't even been murdered." Fletcher smiled. Artyom raised a finger.

"We haven't been murdered yet." he corrected.

"Just promise to go easy on me when the full moon hits." Marco smirked. Yom grinned, betraying his teeth were already a bit too sharp.

"No promises, you just better start stretching. Christmas is only a few days away." Yom said, licking his lips. Duncan crouched down next to Marco's chair, sliding a hand up his shirt to massage his chest.

"Don't worry Alpha, I'll protect you." Duncan grinned, rubbing his beard against Marco's chin before kissing him. Marco murmured and returned the affection. Yom picked up a pillow and threw it, hitting the back of Duncan's head, managing to make the pair chuckle in their duplicity.

"Oily, that's the word I wanted..." Udo said, still making a bitter face from where he'd been trying the Wolf's brew.

****

The days slipped by, one into the next. The early sunsets made the days seem shorter, but at the same time the lack of having to go anywhere or follow any structured activity made up for it. They had celebrated the solstice by sleeping through it. In fact, that had been the most popular pastime. Marco practically felt as if the pack had tongue bathed him with their constant affection, grooming, and rather skilled forms of pleasure. Just thinking about it made him start to stiffen up again, a fact that reassured him immensely. While he doubted quite a lot after losing his lycanthropy, there was no doubt that his pack loved him and that he was a very lucky man.

The Christmas Eve celebrations had migrated outdoors, their utilitarian mattress being stretched out over the cold hard ground like a thick picnic blanket. The snow had let up and the clouds had thinned, giving them an impressive view of the stars. The moon's influence had started making itself known as the evening settled in. Yom had been the first to show symptoms, his beard getting even thicker and his ears becoming pointy and furred. To their mutual surprise, Fletcher had started letting the proverbial cat out of the bag and had been sporting thick mutton chops by dinner time, his upper lip starting to push forward to make room for the fangs. Udo's hair was quickly blanching from blond to white and Duncan had been particularly physical, leaning and hugging and rubbing against the others.

"Do you think if Santa was real, we could see him fly over on a night like this?" Duncan asked, looking up at the stars, his irises already a rich shade of amber. His mouth seemed puffy, his teeth taking up more room without his skull having shifted to accommodate. Fletcher shook his head, reaching to scratch at the patch of tawny fur peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

"He'd have to use time dilation or wormholes or something, even if he did fly overhead, we couldn't see it." Fletcher said. Udo looked up as a shadow disrupted the light spilling out on them from the cabin as Udo returned, carrying a stack of red plastic cups in one hand and a pitcher in the other. Marco looked up with a smile.

"What's this?" he asked. Yom sat down right up against Marco, setting the pitcher on the flat stone they were using as a table.

"You said that your parents always bought eggnog for Christmas and New Years." Artom said.

"Please tell me you didn't spike it with the Soma, I don't think I could take it." Fletcher groaned. Yom narrowed his golden eyes.

"It's virgin eggnog, just like Marco was before we corrupted him with our manly, wolfy ways." Yom said. Udo snorted while Duncan had moved to start pouring the egg nog into one of the cups. He hesitated for a moment, breathing heavily as his fingers started to ache and burn, his fingernails thickening and sinking into his fingers, pushing out forward as they turned into claws. His lips curled, his face contorting a bit as his beard crept up higher and higher on his cheeks, his ears stretching into taller, fuzzier points.

"Fletcher, how were you able to stand full moons as a Keeper? It would have had to be incredibly distracting." Marco said, watching Duncan shift before looking over at Udo making a bit of an O-face as his jaw extended, making room for fangs as white fur sprouted from his chin like a goatee before creeping up along his jaw.

"Well, to be fair they were a few dozen feet below me in a box canyon... Even with binoculars it was too dark to see much. I was tempted to write fanfiction though, believe you me." Fletcher said before trying to tip back his cup of eggnog, realizing his saber teeth were getting in the way. He let out a bit of a growl and tipped his head back further, pouring the nog from a greater height so the thick, rick, savory liquid fell between the obstructions and across his tongue. Udo nodded in appreciation for Fletcher's creativity. Marco moved to pour himself some of the beverage, bringing it to his lips and taking a drink.

Despite the cold air around him, the puffy coat and the bodies against him were warm enough that the cold nog seemed refreshing. It was one of the better brands he'd tasted and quite a nice gesture from Artyom. It was nice to know that despite his focus on physical affection that he remembered things as well. Marco reached out and started to pet Yom's bearded cheek, making the taller man lean into it, letting out a deep rumbling growl. As Marco pet, he could feel the slight shifting beneath the skin as Artyom's face stretched forward. His cartilage popped, sinew stretched and muscles shifted. His nostrils flared, flattening out as his nose broadened. Marco set down the drink he held in his free hand and leaned over, his other hand finding its way to Artyom's groin.

Amber eyes shot open, nearly emitting their own light. Saliva glistened from dangerous fangs filling a mouth that quickly became a muzzle. Beard became fur, sweeping up around his eyes, across his brow and down his nose. Beneath Marco's hand, a python of a cock was slinking longer and fatter, growing swiftly. Marco started to unbutton Artyom's pants before he reached in, pulling out the red hot meat as it climbed higher and higher, the round head already starting to extend further, taking on a point. Veins bulged and pulsed. Yom growled more, panting harder, the air filling with the smell of sweat and sex. Marco crawled over to Yom, slipping onto his lap, moving to slide one leg around his hip, then the other on the other side. He let go of his petting long enough to unzip his fly and flick the button out of the way, bringing his human cock into the crisp air. Marco leaned in, licking and nipping at Yom's beard as his hands unbuttoned his shirt.

"Fuck..." Duncan moaned, his voice pulsing in time with the fist slamming up and down the cock he was now openly brandishing. He watched with awe as Marco opened up Yom's shirt and helped him shrug it off, grinding their groins together. Yom was starting to hump up against Marco, his breaths coming faster as his flesh darkened from peach to gray, bristling as body hair turned to fur and more strands sprouted. It spread across Yom's body like fire claiming logs, blackening everywhere it touched. More muscles and joints popped, Yom's spine stretching and his ribs expanding. It didn't take long until it felt like Marco was straddling a bear rather than a boyfriend. Yom leaned in and turned his lycan head, his ears springing up from the top of his hair, his golden eyes closed. The fang filled maw slipped over Marco's cheeks before a tongue as thick as his cock plunged into his mouth.

Marco sucked and slurped on it, hands finding Yom's furry pecs, sinking into the soft downy coating before he began to pinch and tug and twist at Yom's nipples. The sound of plastic cups rattling down the rocky shore came as Yom's tail began to wag behind him, filling out and stretching longer. Marco kept grinding and humping against Yom, feeling him grow heavier and stronger by the second. He had to be seven or eight feet tall already, his shoulders hunching forward. Their primal form during the full moons was a thing of beauty, especially after the curse had updated itself for the modern age. They were capable of running on all fours easily, perhaps made even easier by their instincts, but they could also rise up and walk like the wolfmen they were, their hands able to operate in both forms.

Yom eventually forced his eyes open and looked at Marco, at his handsome savior, his lover, his boyfriend and his future husband. Even without being a werewolf, he'd kept as much of his beard as he could and he was a delicious morsel of mocha-chocolate with eyes one could lose themselves in. They were together, they were one, they were a pack, and he had been Marco's first of the night. Artom tipped his head back, raising his muzzle to the sky to let out a deep and reverberating howl. As he did, Marco gasped, feeling thick wolf pre pouring over his cock, coating it in a thick, clear glaze. Marco shivered a bit and reached down, trying to wrap his hand around both of their cocks, at least as much as he could. His hand jutted up and down, murmuring as he felt how hot Yom was.... But he also knew his stamina was limited as a human and he couldn't afford to let himself cum yet. He had others to play with and others to please.

Duncan had rolled onto his back, panting hard as both fists pounded his wolf meat. It rose up like a red rocket ready to launch to the stars, looking puffy and inflamed from the rapid friction Duncan was putting it through. His hands had grown toward their paw state, but they hadn't grown nearly as fast as the football player's feet. His toes had elongated, his claws looking as curved and wicked as raptor claws. Puffy pads swelled up from his toes and his heel even as the feet warped and changed. His shirt strained and stretched over inflating pectorals, fur peeking out from his exposed midriff. Even his balls were the size of avocados now, bouncing around.

Seeing him helplessly on his back, a tail stretching out between his legs from furry ass cheeks, Marco knew he had to help. He climbed off of Yom and moved over, leaning down. Duncan didn't know what was happening at first as he felt Marco's beard dragging over his huge balls, but when he raised his muzzled face up and saw Marco's tongue start to lick at his cock, Duncan gasped. His arms let go of his meat, slamming down into the dirt to anchor himself. Marco picked up the slack, grabbing on and licking DUncan like a popsicle. He licked and slurped, slathering the red meat with saliva until it glistened, even going so far as to pop the pointed head into his mouth. Duncan growled and whined and whimpered with pleasure, starting to involuntarily hump his cock into that mouth, getting further and further.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Duncan remembered what they had done together in the Beta site, when their connection had twisted and mutated, when Marco had taken him with that double knot. Part of him would always remain in that place as a mindless slut for his true Alpha, wondering what they could have been if they cast of their humanity entirely and became monsters bent on sex and spreading the curse to as many men as they could find.... But even without that, even without lycanthropy at all, Marco was still his true alpha. He was a leader, a lover, a boyfriend, a sympathetic soul. He could have been just as happy to play a football game and see Marco cheering him on from the stands, knowing they'd go on a romantic date afterwards and he'd give Marco roses. Duncan howled just as Yom had, though his cock produced thick, yellowed werewolf spunk that filled Marco's mouth up in a few seconds before the over-pressure dribbled out into Marco's dark black beard.

Marco gulped and swallowed as much as he could, though he nearly choked and gasped on it as he felt something hot and slick probing between his ass cheeks. It wasn't Yom's cock, but instead his tongue. The werewolf exhaled through his dark wet nose, coming up behind Marco. One huge paw slipped around his stomach, the other petting the human's leg. Yom started to jack Marco off with his huge monster paw while his muzzle rooted around, nuzzling and sniffing and snorting against Marco's ass before that tongue emerged again. The wet dexterous extension slathered and slipped around Marco's tight ring, testing it and wetting it before it started trying to slither in.

Marco was flushed, sweat beading across his brow as he tried to keep jacking Duncan off while Yom tongued him. The pleasure was incredible, as was the fact that he hadn't cum yet despite all the stimuli. That got even harder as he felt Udo wriggling up between his arms, standing up between him and Duncan before he turned and came back down, his firm yet furry ass cheeks cupping Marco's cock before his ring slipped neatly over Marco's rod. Marco moaned but Udo merely gyrated, wriggling down inch after inch until he was firmly planted. He placed a kiss on Marco's forehead before he began to rise up and sink down. Udo was careful at first but he soon started to pick up speed, riding Marco quickly.

Yom, Duncan, Marco and Udo moved with precision, surging forward and back, in and out, up and down like the complicated gears of a clock. They marked the passage of time in rough, staccato movements that couldn't have been more different than how the moon was fluidly rising higher and higher above them. The yellow orb reached out to them, glittering across the lake, warming the entire camp with its cream colored influence. It was marvelous, and it was also the exact sort of thing that Fletcher had missed out on for too many months.

Fletch grabbed at his shirt with clawed fingers, pulling at the orange material until it stretched, strained and tore. Seams burst, stitches snapped and he let out a satisfied snarl as he tossed it to the ground. Fletcher reached down, groping himself as his pants tented. The pleats disappeared as his legs thickened, It didn't take long for the pants to start to tear out over his thickening ass, then blow out at the knees as fur sprouted from more and more places.

Fletcher moaned, his saber toothed fangs curving down beyond his chin, acting as a counterpoint to the rust colored sideburns jutting out wildly from his face. Even his head hair had gotten thicker and shaggier, standing up more like a wild mane. He grunted and growled, claws slicing through his pants like tissue paper to reveal his bloated, hard, and distinctly feline member. Each protrusion, each bump, each deftly distinct adornment glinted from the slick moisture. Fletcher inhaled the scent of sex and lust before he lunged, grabbing Yom's tail and lifting it up out o the way before he slammed into the big burly Russian.

Yom trilled, his tongue vibrating inside of Marco's ass, an act that made the Hawaiian scream out in pleasure and cum as his ass and cock both pulsed as one. Udo moaned and then howled, his face finally reshaping into the lycan muzzle that his pack mates were already sporting. Smelling Marco's cum, Yom started to orgasm sympathetically, humping the mattress beneath him pitifully as his cock began to gush with excess werewolf seed. Fletcher rode him for all he was worth, fucking and bucking into his ass. Each thrust seemed to pump Fletcher up more, adding meat onto his bones. His furry pecs filled out more, his shoulders broadened, his abdomen lengthened. Fuzzy ears jutted out from the side of his head, the tips of them sporting long fuzzy tufts almost like a lynx. Even his furry ass cheeks began to pull apart, making way for a tail to start stretching out behind him. It waggled around, uncertainty at first but becoming more determined as a puff-ball formed at the tip.

Marco felt his cock being milked by Udo's ass, his ass being plumbed by Yom's tongue and soon he had Duncan's furry muzzle licking and biting at his neck and shoulder, a paw sliding in to grope his pec, teasing and twisting and pinching his nipple to the point where pain and pleasure made a new kind of drug. Despite being human, despite having no supernatural powers of any kind, Marco tipped his head upward and howled at the moon all the same. This was his pack, his night, his glorious pleasure. The full moon had come for them all and they had embraced it as one. They were surrounded by trees that would have served as the best Christmas trees, bellies full of festive foods. The stars were their Christmas Lights and the full moon was their guiding light. The only packages Marco needed belonged to his pack, and he was going to enjoy all those presents long into the morning hours.

Even if someone had been watching from a distance, the furry pile of multicolored beasts hardly looked like monsters. They writhed and undulated as one, maneuvering their huge furry bodies with care and precision. Marco slipped from one of them to the next, fucking some, being sucked off by others. They tangled like they were involved in a slow wrestling match. Marco came again, then a third time before he finally gave in and collapsed onto the mattress. The others continued on a bit longer, cuddling with Marco and lying over him like a blanket made of werewolves, though they managed to get a few more loads into and onto one another before settling down as well. With their lusts sated and their loads spent, the give young men slipped into the afterglow of orgasmic slumber. Their chests rose and fell, breathing in fresh air. The rich full moon watched over them, making its pilgrimage across the horizon. The stars twinkled brightly, the sky a rich tapestry of blues and violets, a perfect backdrop on which a rather slow, rather persistent shooting star seemed to travel overhead, headed on to destinations unknown.