The heavy scent of peppermint hung in the air of the bathroom as Harlow brushed her teeth, preparing for bed. The spacious room, with its two separate vanities—one for him, one for her—spoke of a far more relaxed couple than the pack ever saw.
After spitting a mouthful of foamy paste into the sink, Harlow rinsed her mouth. She leaned her hip against the polished countertop and fixed her gaze on her mate, a quiet question in her eyes.
"Are you sure this is the right approach?" Her mindset had been far different before she met Adrian. She had been a sheltered beta's daughter from another pack, untouched by politics, the fourth child with fewer responsibilities than her siblings.
Every wolf believed they understood how a pack should be run, how an Alpha should act. And Harlow had been no different until she met Adrian and realized how delicate the balance truly was.
"Our son is exceptionally difficult," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I don't know if any of our kids will thank me one day, but they will be alive."
In the privacy of his room, the normally cold, sly, and arrogant Alpha was calm. The honorifics and posturing were gone; it was just him and his mate. They could relax and have a conversation without managing every word to protect the pack.
"Sometimes I want to tell them this is all for their own good," he confessed, noticing how tense and worried she had become as their children neared the age of responsibility.
Closing the distance between them, Adrian wrapped his arms around Harlow's waist, pulling her close. She rested her head against his chest, and his large palm rubbed slow, comforting circles on her back.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice a lonely plea. "They don't understand you." Though her mate had glaringly obvious flaws, she loved him with a fierce devotion only a mate could feel. She appreciated that while other men might pretend to be soft and kind, Adrian owned every piece of himself—the good, the bad, and the dark. He never shied away from letting her see the Alpha he had to be.
With a deep inhale, he lifted her easily, placing her on the vanity. Their foreheads pressed together, and without a word, he captured her lips in a heated, intimate kiss. It was the kiss of two lovers who had known each other forever, yet still savored every sweet, tender moment.
When he finally broke the kiss, his lips trailed down her throat and over the soft skin of her abdomen until he reached the apex of her thighs. As he knelt on the tiled floor, his large hands gripped her thighs and rested on his shoulders, holding her wide. He pleasured her with slow, languid licks, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit as he feasted on her core. Her sweet moans echoed off the bathroom walls, filling him with a sense of unfettered desire.
"Oh, Gods, Adrian!" she moaned, her fingers gripping his hair.
He laughed, a low, guttural sound, as his tongue slid in and out of her entrance, lapping up her juices like a starved man drowning in the ecstasy of her pleasure. Her body tensed and quaked as an orgasm rushed through her, dampening her entrance. He rose to his feet, licking the nectar from his lips, not wasting a single drop.
He slid her to the very edge of the countertop. She wrapped her arms around his neck, peppering kisses along his jaw. He smiled, indulging in her sweet torture. Reaching between them, her hands easily slipped into his pajama shorts, freeing his hardened member. She guided him to her entrance, and her lower lips sucked him in greedily.
Never breaking eye contact, he rested his forehead against her own as he pushed in deep. His hips moved in a slow, rhythmic thrust, savoring every sensation as he rested his palm against her cheek. "So beautiful," he whispered. His light words still made her blush as he gave her a light peck.
Her lower lips clenched around him, and she pulled him closer. They stared into each other's eyes, lost in the sensations and the atmosphere of being completely alone. With every long, slow thrust, their breaths mingled, and a tightness built inside them, bringing them closer to their apex. With a few more languid strokes, her body arched, her breasts pressing against his chest as she shattered. He wasn't far behind, losing himself inside of her, their mingled breaths and racing hearts the only sound in the quiet bathroom.
Adrian stripped off his clothes and did the same for his mate before scooping her up in his arms. Entering the shower, he turned the water on. The hot spray was comforting against their skin. He stood in the middle of the shower, holding her in his arms, her back leaned against his chest.
His wandering fingers played with her full chest as he washed away the evidence of their earlier activities. His chin rested on her shoulder as he pinched her nipples, loving the way her breath deepened and rushed as she became excited again.
"Stop!" she chuckled, holding his forearm and resting her cheek against it.
"Never!" he smirked, nipping at the Mark he had left on her shoulder, claiming her as his all those years ago. Even the lightest touch on that area would cause her body to quake. It was the brand that linked them together for eternity, the mark that proved she was his.
He eventually relented, pulling back to give her space, though his presence still felt like a brand on her skin. She took a slow, deep breath, the last remnants of their passion fading with the rising sun.
The morning light, stark and unforgiving, replaced the soft glow of their shared moments.
A sense of duty settled over them, a mantle they wore as easily as the crisp linen dress Harlow had chosen for the day. As they made their way to the dining room, the playful intimacy of their bedroom was replaced by the solemn duties of their station. Alpha Adrian, no longer the lover who marked her, was now the leader of his pack. Harlow, his passionate partner from the previous night, was erased by the morning's duties.
Their son, Luca, already sat at the polished table, the morning's business etched into his serious young face.
Alpha Adrian sat at the head of the table, his posture as rigid as his morning constitution. Across from him, a demure Harlow poured tea into a delicate china cup. Their son, Luca, focused intently on his plate, the clink of his fork against the porcelain the only sound that dared to break the tension.
Luca finished all the food on his plate begrudgingly before lifting it to display it in a childish manner to his father. "May I be excused?" His respectfully spoken words were a mockery of his obvious childish actions.
Without a word, Adrian didn't even look up. He simply nodded, uncaring for his son's theatrics so early in the morning. He still needed to visit the dungeons and wouldn't waste his time on his son's antics.
Dropping the expensive plate haphazardly, Luca rushed out of the house, making his way to the warrior house. He wanted to check and see if Trinity was the wolf or if she was safe.
A nearly imperceptible chuckle left Harlow's lips once Luca had left. She couldn't help it; her son was dramatic. Her eyes flickered to Adrian's, only to see his own lip twitch before it solidified into a straight line, equally amused.
Pushing back his chair, Alpha Adrian rose to his feet. The maids who lined the walls stood straighter, their eyes glued to the floor. With a light touch on his shoulder, he left with his guards toward the dungeon.
His steps echoed as he descended the staircase. Hearing the sounds of a wailing mother and a begging father, he rolled his eyes at their antics. To go against his order was a betrayal of the pack, treason at its core. It wouldn't just risk that wolf being exiled from the pack but their entire family. No one would risk it. No one should risk it. Entering the damp, cold, dark space, Alpha Adrian pondered about getting proper lighting down there. But he couldn't help but think it would change the overall atmosphere of the dungeons. It was meant to be disheartening.
At his arrival to the no-longer-defective wolf's cell, his parents, Caleb and Hannah, dropped to their knees, their necks bowed and exposed. They shook like leaves in the morning breeze. He could smell their fear, potent acid in the air. It was almost imperceptible to the natural scent of fear that had clung to these dungeon walls for centuries, but theirs was far fresher than what this dungeon had seen in a long time.
He could tell the parents wanted to beg for their son, but fear gripped them far too tightly. They were just too low in the pack to have the strength to speak a word to him.
"Leave," his one-word command was enough for them. Scrambling to their feet, Caleb held his wife's hand as he pulled her up with him. Hannah's steps faltered as she looked back at her son, feeling conflict. Not wanting to leave but knowing that she was not allowed to stay. Luckily, her husband stole her choice, pulling her along with him as the pair exited the dungeon, only to stand in its threshold, waiting to be allowed back in.
Adrian watched the wolf with narrowed eyes. His body was pressed against the wall, and his teeth were bared and exposed, as if he couldn't tell that Adrian was an Alpha, that he was stronger than any pup. But still, the wolf growled as if, given the chance, he would attack Adrian.
He found the sight to be intriguing. Unlike before with this one, he could sense Timothy. Not just with his human senses, but his wolf senses could recognize him. He could feel that he was made whole, that he had become a full wolf, even if he didn't understand what was happening.
'Alright kid. Let's get you back to normal,' Alpha Adrian thought to himself. The fact that a defective survived shifting into their wolf form at his age was something that deserved a modicum of respect. Most always died. He had to be strong to survive it.
His eyes shifted to the black of his wolf as he growled his order, infused with his Alpha blood. "Shift." His command was clear and potent, but all the defective did was growl. He seemed agitated as he paced back and forth.
For a moment, Alpha Adrian was confused why the boy hadn't shifted back until he tried to speak into his mind and realized he couldn't. Defectives were exiles, and exiles were not a part of the pack. And even if he hadn't been exiled as a child, defectives couldn't join a pack. They couldn't have an Alpha. He couldn't make this boy a part of his pack on his own. It required Timothy's acceptance. Until then, he was trapped in his wolf form until someone could convince him and guide him to shift back.
"Pity."
His eyes shifted to the she-wolf in the adjoining cell. They had found her in the deep woods. She had been separated from her family somehow, raised amongst traditional wolves that couldn't shift into human form. She spent her entire life thinking that she was a wolf only. Because of that tricky mindset, she had never known how to shift back into her human form. She was vicious and bloodthirsty like a brainless animal. But they all knew what she was the moment they saw her. She tore through their pack violently some years ago. Because they understood her situation, they decided to let her stay in the dungeons, hoping that one day they'd figure out how to help her become what she had forgotten. It looked like she would have company.
"Hello, Maya," he said, pointing to the cell next to hers. Her wolf eyes looked toward Timothy. "This is Timothy."
Looking to the guards, he knew he had to divest himself of this situation. There was nothing he could do. "Take the silver collar off of him. He's not going anywhere."
Author's note: I think most of my characters live by the guideline that no one is just a monster through and through. Everyone has a reason for the way they need to be perceived by the world.