By the time morning arrived, Cherie was oddly well-rested and in a good mood. He went downstairs and greeted his grandmother who was busy in the kitchen, making tea. Merissa grunted her greetings and paid him no attention.

Cherie snagged a tart off the table that Merissa had freshly made. An apple tart. Cherie’s favorite. Merissa saw him eating the tart and she scowled. She gave off an aggravated huff and tried waving him away from the plate.

Cherie dodged the old lady easily, managing to snag another tart. Merissa gave him a furious look, a look that said I’ll beat your ass if you take another. He chuckled to himself. He knew his grandmother wanted him to eat breakfast before dessert but he didn’t give a shit.

Merissa picked up the broom, aiming it at Cherie threateningly. “Stop eating those! They’re not even for you!”

Cherie rolled his eyes. He doubted that was the case but to please his grandmother, he said, “I’ll go gather berries.” He grabbed the basket from the top shelf. “Does that work?” He looked at her and she seemed disgruntled but she nodded.

He grinned and waved. “Fine, then. I’ll go get berries.” He raced out of the cottage and headed immediately to Willow’s Perch. He knew the villagers were looking at him with strange looks, disappointed looks, but he didn’t care. He just needed to be in the forest, to find that wolf again.

Then he was in the forest—it was cold and dark and damp, the smell of heavy pine and dead leaves filled his nostrils. Twigs snapped under Cherie’s foot as he walked deeper into the heart of the forest, ears straining to hear any sounds of those damned wolves.

Once he came near a clearing where the berries grew, he began to pick. Elderberries, huckleberries, salmonberries, blackcurrants, juneberries, mulberries—anything that he could see and was within his grasp, he picked.

He began humming to himself as he picked the berries, carefully choosing the best ones, the sweet ones. He let the unripe ones fall to ground as he picked and chose. Then he paused when he felt a shift in the atmosphere, as if something or someone was watching him. He felt himself smiling but he tried to act oblivious to the presence.

Then he heard the paws thumping against the earth, padding near him; heard the sound of a low snarl rumbling in the wolf’s throat. He turned around, swinging the basket to his back as he leaned low until he was nose to nose with the wolf.

“My, what big ears you have…” Cherie murmured as he stared at the wolf’s swiveling ears. “Best to hear me with, hm? And what big eyes you have…you better keep those eyes on me, mister wolf.” He studied the wolf’s silver eyes, those eyes flaming with anger. “My, what big teeth you have.” He purred, grinning wide at the wolf, amused by the wolf’s bared fangs. “What’s it for? The better to eat me with?” Cherie chuckled as he set the basket down and sat down so he was face to face with the snarling wolf.

The wolf wasn’t having it. It knocked Cherie to the ground, lips drawn back to a vehement snarl, silver eyes blazing with anger. Its large paws pressed against Cherie’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him, but Cherie wasn’t scared at all. He was euphoric. He reached up and stroked the wolf’s ear and the wolf snapped its jaw at Cherie. Somehow Cherie was faster, gripping the wolf’s lower jaw tight, preventing the wolf from biting Cherie’s hand off.

“Now, now, there’s no point in being feisty,” Cherie scolded the wolf, chuckling as the wolf jerked its head back, huffing in anger. Cherie reached forward and grabbed the wolf’s jaw again, and tugged it close, eyes dark as he growled, “Surely, you could do better than this, can’t you, mister wolf?” He mocked him.

Then the wolf was a man, his hand gripping tight onto Cherie’s hair and tugging him close as he snarled, “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”

Cherie didn’t even bother hiding his impulse. He let his eyes drop between the wolf-man’s legs, grinning. He looked up at the wolf-man and he smirked, eyes gleaming. “I’m just having fun here.” He leaned forward causing the wolf-man to yank at Cherie’s hair, pulling him back, but he didn’t care. The pain was the pleasure. “I can tell you’re enjoying this too.”

“Bullshit,” the wolf-man spats out with heated venom, silver eyes ablaze. His silver eyes were more enticing on him, standing brightly against his dark hair and dark skin. Cherie wanted to rip the wolf-man’s eyes out and keep them as a trophy.

Cherie’s grin grew and he subconsciously wetted his lips, eyes roving over the wolf-man’s body. The wolf-man’s body was beautiful—like a sculpture. Hard and firm in all the right places, planes of muscles over his chest and stomach. He wanted to taste the wolf-man’s flesh—he bet he tasted like earth and wilderness. A heady taste. A dangerous taste. With the wolf-man pinning him down against the forest floor, his mind was swimming with all the dirty thoughts. He could easily get this wolf-man to take him this instant, but for now, he wanted to taunt him more.

“You sure you’re the big, bad wolf because you’re mighty un-scary.” Cherie jeered.

“I ought to punish you!” The wolf-man snarled, and Cherie’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening at the wolf-man’s words. He quickly schooled his expression and chewed the inside of his cheeks to fight himself from giggling.

“Punish me?” He whispered. “How?” He asked softly into the wolf-man’s ear.

The wolf-man’s hands closed around Cherie’s throat, his long nails digging into Cherie’s throat. He snarled at him, “You perverted fuck. I know what you’re thinking. I won’t do what you want me to do. I’ll eat you. That’s what.”

It was as if someone electrocuted Cherie. A shock burst inside of him and he swallowed back a harsh moan. He knew that the wolf-man was serious; hell, the wolf-man was a fucking carnivore, for Christ’s sake. But something about this threat felt too pleasing to Cherie so he couldn’t help but rasp out, “You’ll…eat me?”

“Yes.” The wolf-man growled. “I’ll sink my teeth into your flesh and tear you apart, bit by bit, until you’re nothing but bones.” He sneered. “Hell, I’ll even eat your bones so nothing of you remains.”

Cherie let out a breathless laugh, tilting his head back, purposefully baring his neck. “Is that so?” He asked, grin lopsided.

The snarl grew louder and the wolf-man hissed into Cherie’s ear, “Maybe I’ll finger-fuck you just for the hell of it, you sick bastard.”

Cherie’s heart sputtered in his chest and his face heated up fast. Those twisted words the wolf-man growled in his ear sent icy cold shivers up his spine. The idea of being forced into submission to this maniac beast was making him feral and he was struggling to keep a calm façade.

“Is…that a promise?” He managed to breathe out, staring at the wolf-man with wide eyes.

“You really are one sick bastard, aren’t you? Begging me to finger-fuck you, to eat you.” The wolf-man dipped his head low, his breath hot against Cherie’s ear. “It makes me want to do this more.”

Cherie gave off a strangled noise, hips bucking against the earth. He wanted the wolf-man to dominate him, to punish him. He was so hard that he knew the wolf-man knew; how could he not? His member was aching in his tight pants, begging for the wolf-man’s verboten touch.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Cherie asked, breathless, face aflame with arousal.

The wolf-man smirked and sneered, “I’ll fuck around with you, that’s what.” He slid a finger down Cherie’s stomach, over the tent in his pants, and pressed against his clothed taint, sending shockwaves throughout Cherie’s body. “Look at you…already so wet. You’re fucking psychotic.” His finger traced lazy circles over Cherie’s clothed taint, his silver eyes locked with Cherie’s. “Tell me, pretty boy…why do you stray in the forbidden forest?” His voice dropped an octave.

When the wolf-man’s voice dropped, Cherie whimpered, realizing he was at full mercy under him. The shift in tone sent his head reeling.

“I…I just…it’s like…a siren’s call. This…forest. I–I can’t help but…be drawn to it. And…I’ve always wanted to be near…a hybrid…wolf.” He admitted, voice raspy.

The wolf-man gave him an incredulous look before barking out a harsh laugh. “Do you have a death wish?” He derided, and Cherie couldn't help but scowl. The wolf-man was just like everyone else who apprehended Cherie for his macabre fascination.

“I…I do not—” He protested, but when the wolf-man leaned in close, so close they were nose to nose, Cherie’s protest died on his tongue. He shifted his gaze away, understanding the perilous situation he was in: this wolf-man could easily kill him if he gave him the chance. But his body didn’t feel like fleeing, synapses on fire, nerves thrumming for the wolf-man’s hands and fangs.

“You don’t. The little boy doesn’t have a death wish, he claims,” the wolf-man rasped, his finger pressing against Cherie’s clothed entrance, evoking a strangled groan from him. “But I beg to differ. See, if you didn’t, you wouldn’t step foot in here, now would you? You wouldn’t be carrying that basket full of berries, skipping your way around Willow’s Perch. See, if you didn’t have a death wish, you wouldn’t be under me right now, now would you? But the human mind is a fickle thing, a malleable toy of ludicrosities. Once the switch is flipped, you humans go haywire, drawn to things that will jeopardize your life just for the fucking hell of it. It’s amusing, stupidly amusing that you humans will set your foot down to throw yourself into a hellfire of a so-called ‘adrenaline rush’ fun.

“Once blinded by your ideologies of adequate ‘fun’, you can’t see over the barricade that was built. You chase the impossibles, clinging onto pathetic ambition that you think will drive you forward. But you forget just how easy it is to break you. Oh, it just takes the smallest, most unexpected hit and you humans implode. Oh, yes, you do, and that implosion is a wondrous thing. It drives you past the brink of insanity and you’re left with ridiculing, self-loathing thoughts, drowning in derisive hecklings till the end of your miserable days.” The wolf-man flashed Cherie a dark grin. “Am I wrong?”

Cherie wanted to object against the wolf-man’s words, but his throat constricted, trapping the venomous words he wanted to spew at him. He knew the wolf-man was right, but he didn’t want to simply agree with him.

“And that’s why you’re here. Because you want me.” The wolf-man added, voice a breathless whisper against Cherie’s ear. “Admit it, little boy.”

The wolf-man was correct: Cherie did want him. But not in the way he bet the wolf-man thought. Yes, he wanted the wolf-man to dominate him and control him, but he wanted so much more. More than just a feverish, one-night, forbidden fuck, but something so deadly intimate where he could feel the wolf-man deep in him and own him.

“Yes.” He eventually professed, looking up at the wolf-man with wide eyes. “Yes, I want you… to fuck me.” He ran a slow hand through his red hair, grin growing wider by the second.

It was quiet, the only sound heard was Cherie’s thundering heart and the wolf-man’s husky breathing. Then, the wolf-man drew back, a disgusted look on his face. He stood up, staring down at Cherie with abhorrence.

“You really are fucked up, aren’t you, little boy? Get the fuck out of here. If I catch you again, I’ll tear you apart, limb by limb. And that is a promise.” The wolf-man morphed back to his wolf form and ran off, dark fur bristling.

Cherie sat upright, shaking the dirt out of his hair. He shook out his arms which were numb. He couldn’t wipe the demented grin on his face. This was fun—more than fun. It was stimulating. Now he could finally be hunted. He finally had a predator watching him.