Chapter 22 Chapter Twenty Two - Claws And Fangs

Chapter 22 Chapter Twenty Two - Claws And Fangs

Carter poked gently at his torso. It was lean and lightly muscled from years of walking everywhere instead of driving.

There was a light dusting of blonde hair trailing down from his navel, and his stomach was flat as a board.

“Pregnant,” Carter muttered to himself, turning to the side and examining his reflection. “Right. Because that makes total sense. Just a normal Tuesday, finding out you’re a pregnant man carrying a werewolf baby.”

He laughed, the sound slightly hysterical even to his own ears. “God I need to get out of here. They’re all just crazy. It’s one big mass delusion and if I remain here long enough, I’ll start to believe it too. Then I’ll be just as crazy as they are.”

He pressed his palms against his flat stomach, trying to feel for anything different, anything that would confirm the impossible claim everyone kept making.

But there was nothing, only regular skin and muscle and the same body he’d always had.

“There’s no baby,” he whispered to the mirror, his voice cracking slightly. “There can’t be. Men don’t get pregnant. It’s biologically impossible. Get yourself together.”

His eyes drifted up from his belly to his neck, and the words trailed off.

The marks were still there. The bruises Dallas had left behind from the hazy night they’d spent together.

There were clear bite marks, and hickeys that decorated his throat and collarbone like he’d been turned into a chew toy by some kind of wild animal.

They should have faded by now, after all it had been two days since that night, but the marks were still vivid against his pale skin.

Dark purple and red, clear evidence of teeth and lips and Dallas claiming the fuck out of him.

Carter leaned closer to the mirror, his fingers hovering over the largest one. The skin was slightly raised, almost like a scar, and when he tilted his head, he could see the individual marks where Dallas’s teeth had broken the skin.

Carter’s breath hitched. His fingers came up to trace the largest bite mark, the one right where his neck met his shoulder, and the moment his fingertips made contact, heat flooded through his entire body.

It was like being struck by lightning.

Every nerve ending in his body lit up at once, and suddenly his mind was full of nothing but Dallas.

Dallas’s calloused hands ravaging his cock, Dallas’s mouth biting and nipping at his skin, Dallas’s scent filling his senses, Dallas’s voice growling mine, finally mine, against his ear.

It was madness.

The memory hit him so hard he had to grip the sink for support.

He could feel phantom sensations, Dallas’s weight pressing him into the mattress, the stretch and burn of being filled completely, the overwhelming pleasure that had made him scream until his voice gave out.

Carter felt himself getting hard, his cock straining against his pants as his body responded to nothing but the memory of his nemesis.

He was suddenly, desperately turned on, feeling that same deep, inexplicable pull to go find Dallas wherever he’d gone and either kill him or get fucked so hard he forgot his own name.

“No,” Carter whispered, gripping the edge of the sink with both hands. “No, no, no. Stop it.”

But his treacherous body wouldn’t listen.

His cock was fully hard now, pressing insistently against his zipper, demanding attention.

His breathing had gone shallow and fast, his pupils dilating as arousal flooded his system like a drug.

He wanted to take his pants off right here, wanted to wrap his hand around his aching cock and stroke himself to the fantasy of Dallas bending him over this very sink, filling him up, owning him, making him—

“Stop,” Carter hissed through gritted teeth, his knuckles going white where he gripped the marble. “You don’t want him. You hate him.”

It took every ounce of willpower Carter possessed not to do exactly that, not to give in to the overwhelming need pulsing through his veins like fire.

Dallas was his enemy, for heaven’s sake. Why was it becoming harder and harder to remember that with every second he stayed here?

He was the man who’d turned on him from being his best friend as a kid to a monster who had tormented him all throughout high school.

He had stolen every girlfriend he’d ever had, humiliated him in front of the entire school, and made his teenage years a living hell of anxiety and shame.

Then he’d kidnapped him, dragged him to this insane werewolf compound, and was keeping him prisoner while practically using him as a sex toy throughout his stay.

And Balfour, the gentle, jolly Balfour, had just threatened to murder him if he posed any sort of danger to the pack.

These people were dangerous and unhinged. Possibly suffering from some kind of shared mental disorder that made them believe they could turn into wolves.

And yet here Carter was, getting hard at the mere thought of their leader.

“Get it together, Carter,” he muttered to himself, splashing cold water on his face with shaking hands.

The icy water shocked his system, helping to clear some of the lust-induced fog from his brain.

He splashed his face again, then again, until his skin felt numb and his arousal had faded to a manageable level.

“You’re losing your mind. That’s what’s happening. You’re only having these thoughts because of all the trauma and stress from the past few days.”

He sighed deeply, “It’s not your fault, and this will all be over soon.”

He stared at his dripping reflection, at the wild look in his own eyes, at the marks covering nearly every part of his neck.

“You just need to stay calm, stay rational, and find a way out. That’s all. Simple.”

He made to leave the bathroom, reaching for the door handle with a shaking hand.

The door slammed shut before he could touch it. It might as well have been a gunshot the way Carter jumped back, his heart leaping to his throat.

Carter stumbled backwards in shock as a tall, imposing, familiar figure stepped out from behind the door.

For a split second, Carter thought it was Dallas. He had the same height, the same build, and the same sharp features and dark hair.

“Dallas, what are you doing here? When did you get back? You scared me.” He asked, relief flooding through him.

But then the man turned to face him fully, and Carter saw that he was very, very different.

This man’s eyes were bloodshot and wild, his gaze colder and harsher. His expression was twisted with open hatred and disgust.

And when he smiled, it was nothing like Dallas’s arrogant dashing smirk, it was an ominous manic smile.

Like that of a madman who most likely wanted to kill him, slowly and painfully, judging by the look in his eyes.

“Well, well,” the stranger said, his voice a low growl that raised every hair on Carter’s body. “The famous human mate. The abomination that’s turned my brother and our pack into a public laughingstock.”

He took a step forward, and Carter could see claws extending from his fingertips. They were longer and sharper than Balfour’s had been, tinged a deep black colour that frightened Carter even more.

“Who are you?” Carter breathed, recognition crashing over him.

He’d recalled a faint memory of hearing that voice a while back from all the way downstairs, when Dallas had left the room abruptly to go meet someone who was supposedly important.

It was the voice screaming what sounded like threats and enraged insults, the one who’d made Dallas come back with bleeding knuckles and a dark, bitter mood.

“How did you get in here without anyone seeing you?” Carter asked. His eyes quickly scanned the room, desperately searching for a means to defend himself, before finally landing again on his attacker.

The bathroom suddenly felt impossibly small, the walls closing in on him.

There were no weapons, and no escape routes, only expensive marble and gold fixtures that would do him absolutely no good against a man twice his size.

Marcus bared his teeth in a snarl, his canines extending into deadly points, leaving Carter to shrink back in horror.

How the fuck is science supposed to explain that, he thought in a panic.

His teeth were undeniably real, growing out of his mouth like something from a horror movie.

He raised his clawed hand high, and Carter watched in frozen dread as those razor-sharp talons caught the bathroom light, ready to rip his throat apart.

“Your existence ends here, little human,” Marcus said, his voice full of conviction. “Tonight, you die, and my brother’s madness dies with you.”