How long he stayed in the river’s embrace was unclear, but when Erik finally emerged, the sun had dipped below the horizon. He wrung out his hair, pulling on his shirt despite being soaked to the bone. Grabbing his cloak he followed the river back to the campsite. He was almost there when he came upon Ariyan bathing in the waters. With his pale skin and white hair, the boy looked like an ancient and forgotten water spirit, ready to lure unsuspecting men to their deaths. Erik paused to watch, deciding that he would spend some time between his mate’s thighs later that evening. The Alpha continued on, nodding a greeting to Anatoly who sat guard. Erik was going to relieve the male of his duties, but stopped midstride when he caught a familiar scent.

Erik’s gaze darted to the tree line, sending the intruder scampering into the woods. The Alpha was after him in seconds, catching the male just before he disappeared into the encroaching darkness.

Erik slammed Otto into the nearest tree trunk, growling threateningly. “How dare you look upon my mate’s nakedness!” he hissed angrily. “And with your fucking cock in your hand!”

“F-forgive me, Lord Alpha,” Otto wheezed. “I… I didn’t think you cared about him enough to…”

Erik grabbed Otto by the hair, forcing the Beta to look at him. “He. Is. MINE!” The Alpha roared, punctuating each word by smashing the back of Otto’s head into the tree.

Erik dragged the half-conscious male by hair along the forest floor, his rage growing with every step. When they arrived in camp, everyone in sight stood to their feet. Utgar was the only one to step forward, his expression one of fear and confusion.

“Lord Erik?” Utgar began.

Erik said nothing, unsheathing his knife before throwing Otto to the ground. There, in front of his men, he carved out both of Otto’s eyes. The male shrieked in pain, proof that he was conscious enough to feel pain. And then, just like that, the screams stopped. Erik climbed to his feet, staring down at Otto’s lifeless body for several long seconds. Taking a calming breath, Erik turned to face his men, the bloody eyes still in his hand.

“He is MINE.” Erik spat, pointing to Ariyan who was standing behind Anatoly. “If you touch him, I will cut off your hands. If you look at him, I will gouge out your eyes. If you so much as think impure thoughts about my mate, I will split open your skull and pull them straight from your head! He is your Luna, not some whore for you to jerk your cocks to! To disrespect him, is to disrespect me That is the LAW, and I will not abide traitors.”

                                                                 ***

Ariyan could hear the screaming long before they reached the campsite. That gut wrenching cry of complete and utter surrender. Surprisingly, it did not stir him. He watched as Otto writhed, shrieking in pain as Lord Erik maimed him, bloody eyes and flesh ripped from the red skull.

Then there was silence. Not the comfortable kind. The quiet where everyone was afraid to speak.

The lord stood at his full height, the blood from his heinous kill dripping from his fingertips, and the dark eyes that had coveted Ariyan were crushed like sour grapes.

“He is MINE.” Erik spat, pointing to Ariyan. "If you touch him, I will cut off your hands. If you look at him, I will gouge out your eyes. If you so much as think impure thoughts about my mate, I will split open your skull and pull them straight from your head!"

Ariyan stood rigid as the lord proclaimed him as his property. Because that's all this was. Otto had leered at Ariyan with a lascivious intent, and the lord had taken offense. Not because he was Ariyan. Not because he cared for him. Not because Lord Erik wanted Ariyan for himself, but because he belonged to him. Because the demon owned him. Lord Erik was merely a child who wanted to keep his toys all to himself.

"He is your Luna, not some whore for you to jerk your cocks to! To disrespect him, is to disrespect me! That is the LAW, and I will not abide traitors.”

Ariyan clenched his jaw as Erik stomped off toward his tent. Then he could feel the eyes of the men, but this time, they were all questioning and timid.

‘What a difference time makes.’

"You heard your Alpha!” the male shouted. “Get this traitor out of sight before Lord Erik returns!”

Ariyan stared as the men gathered Otto's lifeless body.

Killed dishonorably.

Maimed and discarded.

This was what the savages did when they found a man guilty of treachery. This is how they settled their disputes.

Anatoly fixed the fur on Ariyan’s shoulders, and they followed Lord Erik back to his tent.

                                                                     ***

Lord Erik had already stripped off his clothes when Ariyan entered the tent.

“I thought if the men saw him in your cloak," Anatoly said stepping in right behind him. "It would give greater meaning to your words, Lord Alpha.”

“Leave us,” Erik said, his gaze locked on Ariyan. The healer left and Ariyan for the first time in weeks, he met the lord’s cold blue eyes dead on. The shiver they sent up Ariyan's spine, surprisingly, wasn't all from terror. For a moment, just like the moment at the river, Ariyan thought he saw something in the lord’s stare. Of course, he couldn't say what that something was. It might have been anger at seeing him draped in his fur, or annoyance that Ariyan was the cause of an otherwise loyal pack member’s death.

"Strip,” he commanded the Omega.

It might have been plainly physical. Lord Erik was a man, and as he'd thought earlier; ‘certainly not a layabout’.

Ariyan dropped the fur from his angular shoulders, letting the thinner robe slide down over his hips and ass. Lord Erik let out the softest of breaths. So soft that if there was not complete silence between them, Ariyan wouldn't have even heard it. And to Ariyan's horror, instead of revulsion, that tiny sound had his heart racing.

He breathed deep before walked over to the lords bedding, of soft dry fur and warm covering. Then he got down on his knees, arched his back and held himself up on flat palms. This was what he'd grown accustomed to. Hard, pleasure-less ruts that ended in sticky residue between his legs. The cum was easy to wash off. The scar Erik left wasn't so easy to wipe away.

The lord pressed into him, hard and deep. Thankfully Ariyan had prepared himself or the demon would have ripped him with the force of his thrust.

Pounding.

Hard.

Then the lord pulled out, pushed his face into the furs, lifted his ass and spread him. Before Ariyan could catch his breath, Lord Erik was back inside of him. Ariyan’s body jerked forward each time the demon rammed him. His cheek rubbed against fur, and he stared emptily at the trunk which held his possessions. His grandfather’s ring. His clothes. The herbs his mother had given him, tucked away in a secret compartment. To lord Erik, he was little more than a possession. Not even a treasure, but a body to be fucked at his leisure.

And Ariyan suffered through it. He bit his lip to hold back his pained whines when Erik went too deep, and clenched his eyes to stop the tears from falling. He never turned toward Erik. They didn't kiss, so there was no need to. All he would see when he looked anyway, was death.

Ariyan closed his eyes and drowned out the sound of their flesh meeting, of their breaths mingling, of his lover’s hard grunts, so unlike the soft exhale that had escaped the demon earlier. That sound must have come from some place hidden deep inside of him. Or maybe Ariyan had imagined the look, and the sound. Why though? It didn't benefit him. If Lord Erik turned out to be a man, merely possessed by a demon, then he still wouldn't want the man trapped inside.

When the lord gripped a chunk of his hair, Ariyan couldn't hold back the gasp that escaped him. He gripped at the furs for purchase while the lord’s thighs slapped against his ass cheeks, and his thumbs pressed into his hips.

He was close.

The last hump was hard, and uneven. The lord shoved him forward, using Ariyan’s hips and ass for leverage as he slid out leaving an ache along with a dripping, gaping hole. Ariyan rolled to his back slowly, watching as the Lord made his way to the wash basin. He wiped the sweat from his brow and neck, before he poured himself a cup of ale. Ariyan was tempted to ask for a cup, but he held his tongue, presuming his request would be refused.

Lord Erik moved through the tent in the way Ariyan had grown accustomed to. He didn’t speak unless necessary, nor did he move without purpose. In the beginning, this surprised Ariyan, whose experiences with Alphas had been the complete opposite. His father, for example, always said more than he was warranted, and often did less.

They slept together for the first time that night. It was awkward. Instead of Lord Erik pulling out, and Ariyan stumbling away to Anatoly's tent, they laid side by side like a true mated couple.

It was…numbing.

Usually the lord would join the pack for drinks around the fire, but like Ariyan, he probably assumed his outburst had put a damper on the lively mood. Ariyan didn't dare to move, nor did he sleep. He stared at the lord’s back, wide and massive. It was littered in scars. Old scars, which had healed probably tens of years ago, and newer, which were slightly raised on his tanned skin. His chiseled arms had tattoos on them. And although his hair was damp, it held the same texture. He had the body of a warrior. No one, not even Ariyan could deny him that. Anatoly’s stories were probably tame compared to the demon’s tales. He’d probably walked through hell fire to get to the land of the living. Maybe he’d killed hundreds...thousands...maybe he’d raped hundreds more…

Ariyan shivered and turned away.

Lord Erik was a closed book that Ariyan had no desire to read.

After several minutes, when the man did not stir, Ariyan sat up and made his way over to the basin filled with water. He grabbed the cleanest cloth he could find, and wiped between his legs as thoroughly, and quietly as possible.

His first thought was of the whores that lived in the brothels of the Port Town. His brother had told him stories of the one’s he and Oliver used to visit on their excursions. He would listen to the tragic stories of the unlucky whores, but rarely could Ariyan find pity.

“They sell their bodies for money. They deserve everything they get. They chose the profession. If they die from a man's hand, or have a fatherless child, then so be it.”

But time had changed his mind. Made him realize how foolish he'd been. How exactly was he different than those whores? He and Lord Erik’s claim only meant that any ill-fated children between them weren’t bastards. But honestly, a fatherless child would be better than a child with this man. And who was to say the lord wouldn't dispose of him, like Otto, when he no longer had a need for him. Like the whores he mocked, he’d chosen Lord Erik, and he had no way out.

'...But not even a whore should have to sleep with filth dripping from between their legs.'