The Summit. A nightclub and bar that sat atop the highest cliff point with the most spectacular view of not only the town but the ocean. For generations, it was the pride and joy of the Coyote community until the wolves began taking over territories. It was good business. Wolfgang sighed as he made his way to the upper section of the club, the red velvet corner where the VIP area was. He sat upon a gaudy golden throne. It wasn't his taste; his sisters had decorated the entire place. He couldn't have been bothered to. They were extravagant, heavy on the extra. His jaw was clenched tight. The summit was filled to the brim with pheromones. People fucking in side rooms. Grinding on the dancefloor. Stumbling and fumbling drunkily over themselves. It gave him a headache. He was uninterested. Nothing interested him.

Well... that wasn't entirely true.

He swallowed, remembering the sensation of sinking his teeth into Skylark's neck. He groaned with a growl. Why the hell did he do that? It wasn't like he was out of control but he wasn't entirely in control either. It was like the dark side of his personality took over, the one that had emerged from his soul years ago, the part of himself that was desperately hungry for that fucking coyote. The part of his being that wanted to devour every single inch of Skylark until there was nothing left. Until he was no longer his own person, until every single centimeter of him belonged to Wolfgang. He wanted to taste every millimeter of him until his tastebuds knew nothing else ever again. Wolfgang clenched his fists as tight as possible until his knuckles were white. Why did that idiot have to return?

He looked so scared. Wolfgang scoffed and smiled. It was delicious. Sweat began to drip down his hair, along the sides of his face, and down his neck. Fuck. Now he was beginning to understand why he did what he did. His rut was coming. He rubbed his face in his hand as people finally began to take note of his arrival. Omegas flocking to him like he was a celebrity. Throwing themselves at his feet like desperate whores. He was glad Skylark was still different even in the state that he was. A random omega crawled onto his lap, purring like a fucking cat, stretching her tongue out to lick his sweat. Wolfgang ran his fingers along the side of her face before roughly pushing her off of his lap with a heavy thud. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, and her face flushed red in embarrassment. Wolfgang's little coyote was back; he was no longer interested in quick, forgettable fucks to pass the time. His cravings were much richer. More exotic and, above all, forbidden.

Such a sweet fruit.

This was going to be so much fun.