Heart of the Wolf

"Calla was there--"

His lips were hot on hers. The kiss surprised her to stillness, caught between familiarity and exasperation. She set her hands on his chest and pushed, but Wes didn't back away from her. There was something desperate about the way he held her face, and a finality when he pressed his body to hers. And, right then, Wes felt an awful lot like home.

He spread her legs with a knee, and the growing bulge against her thigh aroused a desire she normally resisted. Senna shivered, her eyes lulled closed, and her hands slipped from his chest.

She weaved her fingers through his soft hair and brought him closer against her. He pressed her harder between his body and the door, knocking the breath from her. When her lips danced with his, Wes released her face so he could explore her body, one he hadn't touched in half a decade.

He rolled her shirt up her stomach, and the calloused tips of his fingers brushed the sensitive skin of her lower abdomen. When Senna had been human, it was an innocuous touch, but as a wolf she understood the implication behind it. Like the throat, the abdomen was among the most vulnerable parts of the body. Senna's breath hitched, but she didn't run him off or snarl at him.

Sex had never felt like a fight with Wes. His touch was gentle, and his intensity always matched hers. His hands ran over her sides and up her back to coax her out of her shirt. Once he'd thrown it to the wayside, Senna held Wes' face between her hands and kissed him fiercely.

It was wrong. She shouldn't have let him in. She shouldn't have kissed him. There would be consequences for it when Calla came home and realized what had happened. And, yet, between their torrid history and the muted effects of the upcoming full moon, his body ignited Senna's. That flame consumed any human resolve she had left.

Senna jumped and wrapped her legs around his hips, and fought him when he broke their kiss. Wes chuckled and guided her back against the door when she pressed into him. "How am I supposed to undress you if you're all wrapped up in me?"

Senna grabbed his shoulders, her voice coarse with arousal. "Figure it out."

Her lips were on his again, nipping him and tongue vying for control over his. Wes hesitated. He'd only ever been intimate with her when she was human, as something fragile by werewolf standards, and when Senna had been human, she had been uncertain of her touch. Wes' hesitation was short-lived. He tore her bra at the front and pinned her body with his own, and she struggled to move.

Senna braced against the door and tilted her head toward the ceiling to catch her breath. His teeth grazed her throat, and all the hair on Senna's body rose, but Wesley didn't linger there. He kissed her collarbone, then her jaw, as he popped the button on her jeans and wiggled them over her ass to bunch them at her upper thighs. Neither of them would disengage enough to strip the other bare.

His hand slipped past the band of her underwear so his middle fingers could trail the length of her lower lips, teasing and exploring her body before settling on her clitoris. Senna rocked her hips into his touch and bit her lower lip after a heady moan.

"We should stop." Senna couldn't find the strength to push him away again. She needed his magic touch, his rich voice in her ear, and his teeth on every inch of her skin.

"Why?" His teeth took another fleeting pass at her jugular before his attention drew to where her jaw met her ear. He nipped her earlobe before he worked a hickey on her skin.

"Because..." It was wrong. She hated him. She loved him. He had betrayed her.

When his finger thrust into her body, Senna lost all coherent thought. She gripped his shoulders and held tightly enough to leave behind bruises. She groaned and cursed under her breath, frustrated by her jeans.

"Relax." His breath tickled her ear. Senna closed her eyes and Wes made up her entire world. His wild scent, his teeth on her skin, the one hand on her ass to keep her in place as he caressed her.

She whimpered when he withdrew his fingers and forced her to unwrap herself from around him. She'd have fought him had the jingle of his belt not been a promise of something better to come. Wes didn't lift her again. He turned her and bent her against the door before he tugged her jeans and underwear to her knees. Senna cushioned her forehead with her arms and fought to see reason. To find any argument that would convince her not to go through with this.

Wes nuzzled the head of his cock against her entrance, eliciting another full body shiver from her. She should have told him no; Senna knew Wes would stop if she told him to. Instead, she spread her legs as far as she could manage. And when Wes entered her, it was like fitting the last puzzle piece into place. He'd filled a space Senna hadn't realized was lacking. She shared a content sigh with him, and they were both still, basking in the feeling of oneness.

His pace didn't build. It began powerfully and was so wild that it caught her moan in her throat. Senna was glad about it. She feared she'd have tried to bite him had he deliberated any longer. His thrusts were painfully strong, and they scratched an itch Senna had ignored for years.

Senna gorged the door with her nails when his hand clasped around the back of her neck. She cursed several times again, suppressing the urge to fight him for dominance. She didn't have enough room to move, to react, to touch. It bothered the primal creature in her, brought to the surface from high emotions and arousal.

When Wes yanked her up and gave her a gentle love bite on the shoulder, Senna pushed back on the door and caught him off guard. Both of them fell to the ground, but Senna was quicker than him. She kicked off her jeans and underwear, then turned to straddle him, a hand on either side of his head. His eyes, now wolf gold, widened in surprise. He might have wrestled her, had she not brought him back into her body and kissed him hard.

Senna matched his previous brutality while rocking atop him, and with his hands on her hips forcing her down into his every upward thrust, they'd both be sore come the next hour. Her nails found purchase at his shoulders and tore through all the fabric there to draw deep, red marks down his skin. He growled a warning that Senna didn't heed. She dipped her head and closed her teeth on his jugular.

Wes' hand curled in her hair and he wrenched her head back hard enough to burn her scalp. He had no trouble rolling them, so he was on top of her, and collected her hands in one of his own to pin them above her head. She'd left a bite mark on his neck, but not deep enough to draw blood, even after he'd ripped her teeth from his skin. One violent thrust silenced her protests and forced a loud moan from her throat.

Wes closed his teeth on her jugular, and bit just hard enough to keep her from struggling against him. She balled her hands into fists, digging her nails into the skin of her palm, and wrapped her legs around him. His free hand took her by the ass again, forcing her to keep rhythm with him. Each thrust was a juxtaposition of pain and pleasure.

The wolf in her evaluated his qualifications of joining the family, the pack, as her partner. He was strong, thrusting into her with such power as to shake her to the core. Strong enough to hold her down, and likely strong enough to win a fight. Good tracker, too. He'd found them after all this time.

He drove into her with growing finality and pressed their bodies as firmly together as was possible before holding her still against him. Her heart was beating so frantically in her throat that she barely felt his tongue there, soothing the bite mark he'd given her. He released her wrists, but Senna didn't move her hands from above her head. The itch to bite something dwindled until it vanished.

Without the haze of desire, the horribleness of the situation worked its way into Senna's bones. She thrashed beneath him until Wes pulled back to his knees and blinked in confusion at her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Everything." Senna shot up and retreated from him until she could stand and pace the living room. She ran her fingers through her hair several times over, combing away the tangling from their lovemaking. "You have to go."

Wesley had buttoned his jeans by the time she turned to look at him. He acted like he hadn't heard her. "About what we were talkin' about earlier..."

"Yes. Fine. I'll call them for you." Senna tugged harder at a knot in her hair. She didn't care anymore. Let him have it. Let him have his shitty life in the city, where they threw wolves together into violent families like captive animals. Senna didn't care, so long as he left her be.

He was quiet, his eyes having met hers, despite her best attempt to not look directly at him. The gold there had bled away to his usual soft brown, but when the light caught them, she still saw a gleam of yellow.

"I don't know why you want to run me out so quick. What will it matter? Calla will know I was here either way."

"I don't want you to be here when she comes home."

Wes rolled his eyes as he inspected his torn jacket. "I can handle Calla."

"I don't want you to handle Calla. I want you to leave." She sneered at him, all warm feelings cooling.

"I didn't mean to sound threatenin'." His voice was just as cool. "I only meant I'm not afraid of Calla. And you shouldn't be either."

"I'm not afraid of Calla." Senna knew Calla would never hurt her, and she knew Calla would not have betrayed her as she had just betrayed Calla.

"You always get like this, though." Wes crouched and took her jeans to toss at her, then the rest of her clothing. "You don't need to consult her about everythin'. First your parents, now Calla. You're an adult, Senna, time to start actin' like one."

Senna forwent the torn bra and jumped into her jeans. She wasn't willing to take her eyes off of him in the short time it would take to pull the shirt over her head, so she held it. "And you're not acting like a guy who needs something from me. Go, and I'll call my parents, and then we can never talk again."

Wes traced the tearing in his jacket before he shoved his hands deep into the pockets and leaned back on his heels. He pressed his lips together as he watched her, eyes roaming every part of her body. "You should come with me."

She scoffed and put the couch between them, feigning casualty. "No. I'm fine here."

"I'm sure you miss your family. Your friends?"

"Calla is my family, and I don't have friends. You took all that away."

"Fine. We can make you new friends. Forget callin' your parents. Forget the city. We can go somewhere else. Anywhere you want. You keep with your cybersecurity, I find somethin' worthwhile."

Senna stared at him, all emotion drained from her face. She spoke as though to a child. "You want to fix your mistake by taking away the last bit of family I have left?"

"I'm not takin' anythin' from you. I'm givin' you a choice."

Senna's response was immediate and cutting. "No."

"At least think about it."

Senna shook her head and motioned again for him to leave. When Wes didn't move, Senna sighed and wrung her shirt in her hands. "You shouldn't have come on the day of the full moon. You know how Calla is on her best day."

Still, he hesitated and watched her as though completing a puzzle. Senna didn't have an excuse to be angry with Wes' confusion. She had let him in, let him speak, and then gave him her body. Senna had given him a reason to fight for her.

She was all antsy energy from the coming moon and from the idea of facing her sister. And the part of her that Wes loved was the part that Senna wanted nothing to do with. "Please, Wes. I'll call my parents. I'll help you. But I need you to leave now."

"Promise you'll talk to me the day after tomorrow. I just want to have a conversation with you."

Senna knew it would never be just one conversation. Never just 'one more chance'. He'd used what time she'd given him poorly, and that wasn't her issue, but Senna knew from experience that if she didn't say yes that Wes wouldn't give up. And if she wanted him to leave, it'd have to be the truth.

"Fine. Yes. I'll talk to you later. If you leave right now."

Wes' shoulders relaxed and his assured posture matched the smile on his face. She'd made a mistake, but there was nothing she could do about it. Letting him in was a continuous mistake. That was how things went between them. Why bother changing what was already irreparably broken?

"Don't let Calla bully you, 'kay?"

Senna didn't respond, and Wes didn't wait for one before stepping outside. Cold air blew in after him and the fine hairs on her body rose. Even for a werewolf, the nip outside was noticeable. Senna looked at the shirt in her hands. After locking the door, she undressed and threw her clothes into a bag, which she threw out.

When Calla returned home, she did so with uncharacteristic caution. Senna knew that despite a shower and some intense cleaning, Wes' scent was still heavy in the house.

Calla rose her nose to the air and scowled. Her voice teetered between irritation and worry. "What happened?"

"Wes came by," Senna said just as carefully.

Calla paused, then lowered her face and her eyes bore into Senna's. Shame warmed Senna's face. Even so, Calla held her anger. "I know. Consensual?"

Silence answered her.

Her sister snorted, tossed her head, and freed her hair from its tight braid. "Isn't that just fucking great. How long ago did he leave? I knew I shouldn't have gone to work. I should have torn that bastard apart when I had the fucking chance." She tossed her keys and hair tie into the key bowl as she walked further into the house. "Do I have to remind you he fucked us over?"

"I know." Senna kept distance between herself and Calla. She paused a beat, debating whether it would only annoy Calla to talk more about it. "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing. This is our home. If he wants to try his luck against me, that's fine."

He'd broken Senna's heart. He'd taken their lives away. But Senna didn't know if she could handle having his blood on her hands. If she didn't stop Calla from killing him, would it be the same as if she'd done it herself? And that was assuming Calla would win the fight. Senna couldn't afford to lose her family.

Not all of Calla's rage was protective. He'd hurt her, too. He'd taken her passion from her. Calla's worth had been tied to RATIO, and to the approval of their parents.

"Calla..." She was still cautious, searching for the best way to have Calla see reason. No, not reason. Calla saw reason, and Senna struggled with it.

"What were you thinking?" Calla's nostrils flared, but she didn't round on Senna. She disappeared into her bedroom, right across from the front entrance, and left the door open.

Senna stayed where she couldn't see Calla. She heard the rustling of clothing and the squeak of the old dresser drawer as it opened. "I don't know. I... I wasn't. I mean. I was. I told him to leave."

"Did he barge in?"

"Not exactly--"

"Christ, Senna. All you had to do was close the fucking door and call me. I'd have kicked his ass for you."

Calla's scorn stung, but Senna didn't blame her for it. It was born of worry and protective instinct. Calla had some of the strongest resolve Senna had ever seen. When she disliked someone--which was more often than not--she never gave them the time of day. They could have been burning alive in front of her and she'd walk on by. She was so steadfast that Senna couldn't have explained her weakness in a way that Calla would understand.

"I know! I know. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have let him in. I was just surprised and... I hadn't seen him in so long. And I was angry, but..."

Calla's head and bare shoulders poked around from the corner. "Don't call yourself stupid." Uncertainty replaced anger in Calla's expression, but all negative emotions led back to fire for her. She narrowed her eyes. "But now he's going to come around like a cat you fed once."

"I can't face him again," Senna admitted. She knew she'd cave; sure, she'd be angry at first and she'd be angry afterward, but she'd cave all the same.

"You've got to remember that he doesn't love you. He never loved you. The rat bastard saw an opportunity and took it."

Senna flinched and bit back her growing temper at Calla's asperity. Her voice was sharper than she'd intended. "I know."

Calla sounded confident, but Senna knew that Calla was just as uncertain about Wes' motives as she was. When it had all first began, Senna had asked Calla why he'd done it. Her sister had looked her in the eye, shrugged, and spat back, 'How should I know? I'm not a fucking monster.'

"Clearly you don't, or you wouldn't have slept with him."

Senna groaned as Calla reemerged from her bedroom, dressed in casual wear and combing her long, brown hair. She pointed the brush at Senna with accusation. "Don't give me that. I'm fucking right, and you know it."

"Let's stop talking about it."

"And wait for it to happen again? No way I'm moving and no way he's leaving."

"He might leave. He wanted me to call mom and vouch for him so he could stay in the city." Senna didn't look at Calla again. It was foolish to take Wes at his word. Senna knew it, and Calla certainly knew it.

Calla guffawed, followed by a sharp scoff and a shake of her head. "No, we won't. He can find someone else to save his dumb ass. Vouch for him, my ass. You know what? Fuck it. You're right. He deserves to stay in the city with the other mangy bastards. Hope they all fucking eat each other's balls. Do everyone a favor."

Senna ran a hand through her hair, all the way to the back of her skull. She gathered the strands into a fist and tugged to relieve herself of the stress. Foolish. Why had she been so foolish? She reminded herself that it wouldn't have mattered. Wes wouldn't have left her alone once he found her, whether or not she slept with him. Sleeping with him had only sped up the issue.

Her sister eyed her, then tossed her hairbrush onto the couch and approached Senna. She was deceptively calm. "Nothing we can do about it right now. I'll tell you what, though, come tonight, I'm tracking his ass down."

Senna's eyes found Calla's. Her voice was small and quivering. "I can't lose you."

Calla took Senna by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "And you won't."

"I can't do it, Calla. I can't kill Wes. I can't kill anyone." Her chest tightened and her breath hitched. "That's why I couldn't be a field agent. That's why we're here."

Calla's hold tightened and her eyes hardened. She looked irritated, but Calla always looked irritated. It was how her face rested. This look, though, it was reserved for Senna. Protective and spiteful at a world that had failed them both, because spite had always been Calla's shield and sword. "You don't need to. You don't need to do any of it. That's my job."

"I'm the older sister. I'm supposed to protect you."

"By, like, five minutes."

Senna laughed, not because it was funny, or the statement did anything to assuage her, but because Calla's consistency was an absolute variable Senna needed in her life. And Senna knew that no matter what stupid thing either of them did, the other would be there to take half the blow. When Senna's laugh broke the emotional weight between them, Calla smiled wanly and shook Senna again before she released her.

"I've got to nap before tonight. Can't go into this sleep deprived."

"I'll keep watch." Senna may have possessed a humanness her sister lacked, but she was still wolf. Senna couldn't, in good conscience, keep her family unguarded with a potential threat in the area. She'd wait in the room while Calla slept, doing something quiet that she could divert her attention from should she notice movement or sound.