The ruins of the packhouse still smoked, the air thick with the stench of fire, ash, and blood. Moonlight pierced the haze in silver blades, and Noah stumbled through what was once a sacred home. His shirt was torn, chest heaving, blood not his smearing his cheek. His legs trembled, but not from fear. From anticipation.
Theron was behind him.
No, hunting him.
"Noah," Theron's voice cracked through the silence, raw and low like thunder in a storm. "You're not running anymore, are you?"
Noah's breath caught. His pulse throbbed in his throat, in his wrists, between his legs. "I'm not," he whispered.
Then claws closed around his waist and he was pinned back shoved against a scorched stone wall, bricks crumbling behind him. Theron's body pressed against his, hard and hot, his shirt soaked in blood, eyes glowing like embers.
"You should be afraid of me," Theron growled, but his nose brushed against Noah's neck, inhaling like a beast starving for something only Noah could give.
"I'm not," Noah replied again, voice shaking but sure. "You're mine."
A guttural growl rumbled deep in Theron's chest, and then he claimed. Mouth crushed against Noah's, tongue demanding, hungry. Blood still clung to Theron's lips, and Noah tasted it tasted him. His fingers dug into Theron's hair, pulling him closer as if their bodies could ever be close enough.
Clothing was shredded, buttons torn off, seams ripped. The cool air licked over heated skin, and Theron didn't wait he turned Noah around, pushed him against the scorched wall, breath hot against his ear.
"Do you feel that, little Omega?" he murmured, his voice dripping dominance, hips grinding into Noah's ass. "That's what you do to me. Every time you look at me like you want to kneel and bite me at the same time."
Noah whimpered, pushing back into him. "Then take it," he gasped. "Take all of it."
Theron growled a sound not even human and bit down on Noah's shoulder. Not enough to break skin. Just enough to say mine. Then, in one hard thrust, he buried himself inside his mate.
Noah cried out pleasure laced with pain, with need, with submission. Theron didn't stop. His hands bruised hips, his thrusts were brutal, unforgiving, wet slaps echoing off stone. Noah clung to the wall, to what was left of his strength, but Theron fucked him like the war wasn't over like this was the victory.
"Say it," Theron grunted, voice ragged. "Tell me who owns you."
"You do," Noah choked out, lips brushing stone. "You always fucking have."
Theron's hand slid to Noah's throat, not choking holding. Anchoring. He leaned forward, licking the shell of Noah's ear. "Good boy."
Then, as the haze of climax built like lightning, Theron bit down. Hard. This time it broke skin. Blood bloomed, coating his tongue as Noah shattered around him, coming untouched, howling his release into the night.
Theron followed, hips jerking, teeth sunk in flesh, his mark sealing them forever.
But he wasn't done.
Because the blood moon was still high, and Noah was still shaking, wanting.
Theron scooped him into his arms, carried him into the woods like a fucking prize. The moonlight turned everything silver and red. They reached the clearing soft moss, broken branches, the trees whispering their secrets.
Theron laid Noah down like an offering.
"Again," Noah said, wrecked and open beneath him.
Theron grinned, fangs still stained with blood.
"Oh, baby. I'm not stopping 'til you forget your name."
And then the forest echoed with moans, growls, and the sound of skin on skin two souls lost in violence, love, and lust under the blood moon.