Catching Cinders Ch. 05: Ground Rules

* * * **…Week Ten…** Elan covertly peeked at Owyn over the top of his phone. The Arcanine was sprawled over the couch, shirtless and beer in hand. Elan’s nose wrinkled, but he hid it behind his phone. _Fuck he stinks when he drinks. And not...

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Catching Cinders Ch. 17 : Climax (They Fuck Good)

… **Week Thirty-Two…** Elan sat in the master bedroom of his childhood home, a wave of sudden nostalgia washing over vix. The bed he sat upon was different: large enough to accommodate him, Owyn, and Calill. It was more comfortable, too. The actual...

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Catching Cinders Paralogue 13.5: Best-Laid Plans

**…Week Twenty-Six…** The salt that crunched under Elan's pumps sounded like concession. Swollen paws meant heels had been off the table for weeks, and the only shoes that matched his dress would be decimated by slushy sidewalks. His dress was...

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