Mammon had been keeping things vague with Haru about Vargr for a reason. Aside from not wanting to revisit unwanted memories, he was also not keen on letting his unrefined side resurface in front of Haru. Raymon, however, had his ways of getting around that. How did they even get here?

It was during Lucious’ ill-advised honeymooned absence with Mara that things got busier for the Grand Marshal. The fear of neglecting his human somehow took root. How it turned out into agreeing to bring him here, to Vargr, Mammon wasn’t sure he could explain; not fully. A vulnerability of not wanting to disappoint, perhaps? Or secretly perhaps, buried deep down, it was the desire to show off his unique mate to the city that had always despised him. Wolves were known for their pride.

No, it had to be more than that. It had to be when he discovered that new side of Haru; a more terrifying side. One that not even their fervent love-making could dampen. Mammon could not have predicted the effects of such a discovery. Haru would never admit to it himself, in fact, now that Mammon considered it, it was the absence of such recognition that proved more dangerous. Haru Ito, this adult human male of twenty-eight years of age, pouted. Haru didn’t just pout, not like a screeching tantrum driven babe; not like young Lucious when he wanted to burrow into Mammon's tail; no, Haru held on to the loudest and most excruciating of silences. His eyes would droop, while his vacant stare saw nothing. His mind would wander elsewhere except to whatever it was they were talking; his tone would weaken, and his stillness would prolong his responses. Even his touch, though still intent and warm, would somehow feel lighter when Mammon sought him.

Worse still, Haru obliviously managed this treatment for days. Even in their lovemaking, Mammon felt it. Haru never refused it. Enthusiastically responded to even, only to return to his original solitude once they were done. To any other, these would appear as mild, and temporary mood changes. Mammon, however, had the unfortunate ability to read his mate's mind. Even if their thoughts seemed fleeting. Haru Ito was a skilled manipulator.

Were it any other target, Mammon would be immensely proud of such subtle and mischievous tactics, however he could not help but find himself defenceless at the end of such a soundless and unrelenting attack. He could not help but feel he had neglected his human for too long, even if he pretended it did not matter. It did. Haru’s expression would not brighten otherwise. Not completely; not with his true smile.

It was not the first time the wolf had battled wills with his human. In fact, Mammon reasoned, Haru may have been having things his way since the night they met. Haru barely needed to ask, and Mammon was already reading his mind and agreeing, or promising things that he otherwise never would have; like bringing him here, to a veritable den of wolves.

Was this what they referred to as succumbing to pillow talk?! Was this how it was with humans? Their true power? Mammon didn’t remember reading much on the subject, since he never considered even being in a relationship with one. He could not use Mara and Lucious’ as a form to measure; those two were still too entrenched in their endless honeymoon. If queen Odiva were still around, Mammon could have potentially asked for advice. There was a possibility of her not knowing much about humans, but in matters of the bedroom... To this day, it was a mystery how the untamable Satan only had ears for their queen. 

Mammon shook the thought away. He was over thinking. It could’ve been worse, he reasoned. Haru had also been insisting on seeing his wolf form. Even when he was not thinking about it, the desire was there, and it remained. Under no circumstances could this be acceptable. And so coming to Vargr offered the compromising deflection from that subject. Still, this should not be happening, Haru should not have come here. Mammon should have never agreed to this. Not ever if he was in his right mind! But he wasn’t, was he? Not since he met this human. And so he obliged, neglecting the risks of exposure. Perhaps keeping discussions of Vargr to a survival-know basis might help. 

They stood in front of what Mammon could only describe as an old hut. Situated just outside the centre of town, it still heavily contrasted to the much-improved houses of Vargr. Raymon was never keen on changes. It was large and resilient enough, with its walls made of thick wooden logs and the thatched roof with weak spots that cried for replacement, but a hut nonetheless.

Faolán, who had accompanied them from the chieftains’ manor, bid his goodbyes, stating he would come by again the next day to collect them to the day’s long feast. Raymon waltzed to the front area of his humble residence, while Mammon stood behind the front gate. There would be no going back after this. Raymon's blabber would take over. In the grand scheme of things, Mammon judged this to be the less harmful of exposures. He repressed a sigh and turned to Haru. “We will not be staying here just so you know, Haru.”

“We’re not?”

Mammon tried his best to ignore the mix of excitement in Haru’s eyes. This was all an adventure to him.

“Of course not. Aside from almost collapsing, the place is a cesspool.”

“Your lordship liked it just fine when being all fancy wasn't even in your dreams.” Raymon blurted as he jerked and struggled to open his front door, carefully balancing it with the one hinge that held it attached.

“This lordship kept the place impeccable and habitable, at least.” Mammon sneered.

Haru placed his hand atop his, where it rested on the gate. “Mammon-san, where are we staying then?”

It was a simple question, with a simple and innocent look, but there was nothing simple about the way those brown eyes disturbed the wolf’s senses. They were unmatched by anyone. Seeing his mate’s excited face, Mammon’s urges to touch him were less controlled, harder even to satiate. So many constraints for such a small human. A defeated sigh helped him recentre and find his focus. It was done, Haru seemed happy, and here they were, in Vargr, at Raymon’s cesspit. A few more hours, and they would be alone. Soon. He’d be damned if he was to go back on his word… again.

“Faolán pointed me to our lodgings, they are just down the road. That is where royal visitors stay. I’d rather we have more privacy.”

“Privacy? Why do you need privacy? I’ve got plenty of room here!” Raymon coughed and bellowed from the entrance of his dusty hut. The old wolf’s hearing skill was as irritating as ever.

Before Mammon could retort, he felt the squeeze of Haru’s hand. When he looked down to meet his human’s eyes, he could only see his beet red neck and ears as he was looking down.

“I-it’s alright, Raymon-san.” Haru said. “I’m actually not a very good sleeper. This way, we’ll be out of your hair and not disturb you.”

“Delicacy!! Your human knows how to convey discreetly the need for a good shag in privacy. Your excellency should learn from him!” Raymon sneered at Mammon before disappearing inside the house.

There were no parts of Haru that hadn’t turned red as the waves of embarrassment washed over him. Still, Mammon couldn’t find it in him to argue with his uncle further; not this time. In secret he thanked him. This was one of Haru’s sides he favoured the most.

Couldn’t he just dismiss this visit at his uncles? All he wanted was to hold his lover. It had only been a day since their love making yet it was feeling like years had passed. Normally, Mammon could hold on for much longer and without so much effort. Right now, this human could yet see him lose his control here. He wondered whether being back at Vargr was heightening his own sense of lust.

Paw steps wrapped the Grand Marshal’s attention. Haru’s human senses would not hear or smell them. That all too familiar scent. Lust. Greed. Hunger.

Raymon popped his head back out of the door, his wolf ears perked. It was subtle, the look he gave him, but Mammon knew the old man sensed it, too. “Haru, come on in, son." Raymon beckoned. "Let me show you my corner of pride. you'll not find booze like this in all of Vargr!” He beckoned.  

With a quick smile at Mammon that any other time would’ve seen the wolf lose himself, Haru scurried inside, while Mammon remained behind.

Two? No, at least three, he counted. None of them were in sight, but their lingering odour was poignant. So this was how it was to be: young blood after a new conquest?

Mammon headed inside and slowly shut the door behind him.