Briar woke up alone and afraid.

He searched the room. 

But, the wolf and his children were gone.

The fear inside him turned into something violently trying to get out, and Briar got up from the chair. 

Too fast, too soon.

He stumbled into the table with the taste of blood on his tongue. 

“Holly? Pip?” He called for them in a frantic, breathless whisper and nearly tripped through the doorway, but caught himself on the wall at the last minute.

“Please, please, please!” Tears gathered like glass in his eyes as he stumbled toward the bedrooms. It felt as though he couldn’t breathe, that his heart was beating too fast for his body to keep up with, and at any moment, he’d fall over dead. 

Anything! Anything he wants. Just please…please don’t take them from me!

Briar flung Holly and Pip’s bedroom door open, casting a dull light across shadows bitten by flames in the hearth. And there they were, the two of them sound asleep in their bed. Holly cuddled up with her doll, and Pip spread out on his blanket. 

Briar stood shaking, then collapsed onto the bed. He buried his face into the palms of his hands and sobbed. The relief was painful, but he allowed himself a moment to cry before kissing his children several times where the scent of blood clung faintly to their cheeks. 

With sleepy smiles and quiet hums, Holly and Pip nuzzled into their mother’s hands. He checked their ears, tummies, and feet, then tucked them into their blankets after he made sure they weren’t hurt.

Briar hummed for them, a song he’d heard long ago but couldn’t remember from where.

Sparrows and mice asleep at dawn,

Now I wonder where you’ve gone.

A half-eaten moon and rose-colored sky,

I sit and wait and wonder why. 

The door creaked behind him, and Briar glanced over at an empty hallway. 

Embers popped, and wood collapsed in a sizzling snap, and outside, the wind had carried the storm far away, leaving a clear sky for the moon to prey. 

Briar swallowed nervously. He looked down at his children one last time and stood up from the bed, then quietly walked out into the hallway and shut the door tight. 

For several slow heartbeats, Briar kept a shaking grip on the doorknob as he looked down at a shadow that wasn’t his. Wisps of hot breath stroked the tender spot of his nape, then one by one, the wolf’s claws crept over his shoulder and caressed his jawline with a tantalizing swoop.

Briar shivered. Not in fear or panic but from the soft-touch breathing life into the embers under his skin. And slowly—gently—his chin was tilted upward, and his body turned until he was looking into the eyes of the beast behind him. 

As calm and unpredictable as a distant storm, the wolf watched Briar more intimately than any man could. A stare that set fire to his bones and carved dark promises into his heart. Every nerve, muscle, and inch of skin fell victim to that threateningly, loving touch. 

The wolf’s jaws opened, dripping traces of saliva along the hollow of Briar’s lovely neck and backing the little wife against the wall.

“The children are fed,” He said. “The kitchen is clean.”

Something slick began running down the inside of Briar’s thighs. He closed them tight and tugged on his sweater, trying desperately to hide how starved his body was for a man’s cock. 

N-No—Not for him! I don’t want him, I-I want…

“And now, little wife,” That dark voice whispered into his ear. “It’s time for bed.”

The wolf lifted Briar off the ground and carried him into the bedroom he once shared with his missing husband. But, everything was different. It all felt out of place, especially the smell in the air, which no longer held the comfort of someone he knew. 

Now, there was only him.

The wolf laid Briar onto the bed as though he were something precious, then brought himself close enough to steal a kiss. 

By reflex, Briar put his hands out. He pressed against the wolf’s massive chest, feeling every muscle tense beneath his hands. There, it felt hot—an untamed heat bringing a flush to his cheeks and summoning a moan he cautiously bit back. 

A wicked chuckle rolled from behind that pointed grin. 

Briar tried to avoid him, but the wolf helped himself to his neck and slowly licked up to his moon-white ears. 

There, he whispered again.

“I know you’re wet, little wife,” His words slid across Briar’s skin like a hot blade. “Your body betrays you.” 

“N-No…” Briar whimpered, half-burying his face into the bed after his hole twitched to every lewd word he spoke. “M-My husband—”

“—has come home.” The wolf smiled, and his mouth stretched further than it ever had, revealing several more fangs in a horrifyingly gentle smile. 

Briar’s eyes went wide. He intended to scream, to fight, but there was nowhere to go, for the wolf held him too tight, and all his strength faded under a cloud of hopelessness.

The wolf’s tongue forced his lips open and slid inside—long, hot, and thick; it stroked Briar’s own like a mad serpent, creating pools of saliva as their kiss deepened into something frightening. It was hard to breathe, but he didn’t stop. His tongue slipped further down, teasing the tender walls of Briar’s throat to make him flinch and whine. 

As they kissed, Briar could feel claws removing his clothes, razor-sharp tips grazing his skin, and slicing through every piece of fabric until there was nothing but warm, pink-tinted flesh beneath the wolf’s hand. 

Their mouths separated with messy, wet threads breaking apart and dribbling off of Briar’s swollen lips. He panted feverishly, but it was impossible to catch his breath. Embers burned beneath his skin, creating a rush of sensations throbbing throughout his body. He wanted more of it. His nipples wanted to be sucked, his cock wanted to be rubbed, and his hole ached the most. It twitched and drooled at thoughts of what the wolf would do to him, whether it was making love to him or breeding him violently.

Briar shivered.

The wolf licked down his neck, biting various places hard enough to draw trickles of blood. He traced the curve of Briar’s chest, scraping circles around each nipple then reaching down and lifting his hips. 

Cool air touched the flushed skin of Briar’s naked thighs where slick and pre-cum gathered in messy arousal, one that forced his knees together in embarrassment. 

The wolf straightened, appearing taller than any predator Briar had ever heard or dreamed of, looking down upon him with a grin that brought the moon to shame. He traced every part of the beautiful rabbit shivering within his shadow, for he was lovelier than a heartbroken maiden—petals for lips and oaken-hair falling like sparrow wings against a doe-eyed face. The way his small body bent outlined every erotic curve once hidden under layers of fabric. He wasn’t too thin to be a meal; no, having children left him with traces of plump flesh around his hips, ass, and thighs, places to grab and admire. Yet, his frame and features remained as delicate as can be.

Their gazes met for a single heartbeat, to which Briar panicked and covered his hole with his fingertips. 

“Oh, that won’t do, my dear,” The wolf said in a voice of melted butterscotch and slid his finger along the line that sealed Briar’s legs together. “Show me your sweet, little cunt.” 

Briar hesitated, but the wolf tapped his knee with the deadly tip of his claw, a small warning that his patience was dwindling. He stared at the wolf with dewy, dark-bright eyes that closed in shame the moment he removed his hand as he was told.

Now, the wolf could see everything—his hard, little prick and twitching pink hole dripping puddles of slick onto the bed.

“How lovely,” The wolf said sweetly and tapped each button on his shirt. “Now, it’s my turn.”

He gestured for Briar to come closer, and the little wife obeyed. 

Briar cautiously sat up, and the wolf reached out to touch strands of his hair. It might’ve been foolish to think he was doing it out of comfort, as Briar had expected those claws to rip into him several times throughout the night, but they never did. Instead, they caressed his cheeks, his nape, and followed down the flesh of his arm where the wolf took Briar’s hand and brought it closer to his chest. 

“Take it off.” He said, his calm stare watching a soft blush creep across Briar’s nose and shoulders. 

Briar nibbled on his bottom lip and reached for the buttons of the wolf’s shirt. His little fingers trembled as he undid each one, revealing slivers of bronzed skin he touched with the ends of his knuckles. Briar squirmed in place, knowing the wolf was watching how excited he’d become from such a small task. 

After finishing, Briar opened the wolf’s shirt and guided its collar to the ends of his shoulders. He paused and caught a gasp behind his hand. 

Nearly every inch of the wolf’s hard, thick body was covered in scars, hundreds of them, and each one looked as though they might still hurt. Briar breathed in and lifted his hand, his fingers curling in hesitation before he gently touched the wolf’s bare chest. His skin was hot, and Briar felt muscles moving under his palm. The scars on the wolf’s face were pale in comparison to the rest of his body, and Briar’s fingertips traced the deepest of those wounds. They rose from his skin, crossing smaller furrows then bisecting white lines and burnt flesh, and he resisted the urge to kiss each one in pity. 

His hand stilled where it rested over the wolf’s heart, over a scar that looked newer than the rest. 

“There are...so many.” Briar finally said. “Was it an...accident?”

“No. It was very much on purpose.” He responded.

Briar looked up at him, his eyes shining, not from the light, but a promise of tears. “Do they still hurt?”

The wolf smiled, one so tragically handsome that Briar almost forgot he was a predator at all. Then, gently, he guided Briar’s hand down, forcing it to cup the heavy mound pushing up against his tight breeches. “Not as much as this.”

A flush poured down Briar’s naked chest as he tried to pull his hand away, yet the wolf’s grip remained firm, and his weak struggles only further excited him.

Then, the wolf kissed him again.

Everything became blurry with pleasure that Briar wanted to choke on, and the wolf broke their kiss too soon. He left Briar’s mouth feeling lonely, hurt, and messy. 

Briar tried asking for more without words, but the wolf didn’t kiss him. Instead, the wolf licked his neck, and Briar’s head fell back in a breathy sigh.

The wolf opened his jaws. Teeth sank into skin and tore into his neck, but Briar didn’t go. He felt something warm flowing down the hollow of his neck, something countering all the full feelings in the pit of his stomach, but he wasn’t afraid of it.

Briar exhaled the last of his consciousness, the last of his resistance—and finally accepted the wolf.