November 8th, 1874

A thick fog descended upon the island of Manhattan, the lights of the streetlamps the only beacons within the nearly-opaque morass. The Central Park Zoo wasn’t exempt with its winding pathways and steel-barred animal enclosures barely visible in the midnight air. And being such a late hour, the zoo was hardly staffed; only a handful of men were there, all the grimy, grizzled sorts of men who preferred to work late at night.

“’Ey, Paul, hand me that little thing of you-know-what,” said Ricky, one of these men, a tall type with wiry, long limbs, a ruddy, pock-marked face, and the stink of bottom-tier whiskey on his breath.

“You can just call it ‘booze,’ ya know,” said Paul, another worker, this one with a stubby, round body and a face with beady, brown eyes and a coarse, dirty beard.

“Ya never know who’s listening,” Ricky said, swiping the small bottle of dingy, copper-colored liquid from Paul’s hand and bringing it up to his lip with an unsteady motion.

“I don’t know how you got to be so paranoid,” said Paul, taking the bottle back with a swipe of his own. “The whole point of a job like this is that no one gives a good goddamn what we get up to, so long as the work’s done.”

Ricky considered these words as he felt the whiskey rush to his head. He leaned back against a stack of wooden crates full of animal feed as he looked into the fog with bleary eyes.

“Can’t see a damn thing in this shit,” he said, spitting into the gravel at his feet. “Yeah, not looking forward to feedin’ the tigers in this mess.”

“Yeah, one wrong step and you’ll be feedin’ em, alright,” said Paul, letting out a rough laugh that echoed in the still air.

“All right, all right,” said Ricky, fumbling in his overall pockets for a cigarette and lighter, “you know I hate jokes like that.”

“No shit,” said Paul, “why ya think I make ‘em all the time?”

Ricky placed the cigarette on his lips and with an unsteady hand, brought the flame up to the end. He took a puff as he lit it and brought in a lungful of smoke deep into him.

“What’d ya say we get these tigers fed? I’m about ready to take a little cat nap myself.”

“You get the tigers, I’ll get the wolves. We’ll do it faster that way,” Paul said.

“Fine, fine. I just hate going to these cages myself.”

“Don’t be a goddamn girl,” said Paul, his words heavy with disdain. “These beasts’ve been stuck in cages for years; they’re as domesticated as housecats by now.”

“Still don’t like it,” said Ricky, his cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“No one said ya did,” said Paul, scooping the empty feeding bucket off the ground with a lazy swipe and starting off down the path, the gravel crunching under the weight of his boots.

Soon Ricky was left alone, no sound but that of his breath and the restless shifting of the animals in their cages around him. He hated being alone in the zoo. Part of the reason he liked to drink on the job was that it allowed him to keep his fear at bay when it was finally time to split up and feed the animals.

Finishing his cigarette and grinding it into the gravel with the front tip of his boot, he started off down the path towards the tiger cages. The fog seemed to have gotten worse and Ricky could barely see ten feet in front of his face, let alone precisely where he was. But he’d walked these paths hundreds of times before, and just as surely as he could find his way to the bathroom of his tiny Hell’s Kitchen apartment in the middle of the night, he found his way to the tiger cages.

He could see nothing beyond the steel bars; the fog had seeped into the cages and obscured his view completely. Not even the outlines of the several graceful, stalking tigers could be seen.

“Where’re these fuckin’ things?” he muttered under his breath.

But before he could ponder the question for too much time, a low, mournful howl cut through the still air of the night. Ricky stood up spear-straight as the eerie noise sounded. It was unnatural, almost blood-curdling, like something not of this world. Ricky wanted to drop the food pail and run back to Paul, but just before his body compelled him to start off, his rational mind took hold and he realized what the sound was.

It was a tiger in pain.

The howl sounded again and this time Ricky could distinctly hear the pain in the animal’s voice.

He knew the odds of the tiger being in any serious trouble were slim-- the animals were checked on a nearly daily basis. The animal likely stepped on a branch that pierced its skin, which meant he’d have to venture into the cage, check the animal, and, if necessary, bring it inside and prepare the animal for a vet checkup in the morning.

“More goddamn work for me,” he said low, moving around the cage and keeping one hand on the bars as he walked.

Eventually, he made it around back, towards the rear entrance to the pen. He ducked inside the small wooden hutch that contained the tiger feed. With a steel scoop, he shoveled pound after pound of raw, pink meat into the bucket, the red muscle glistening in the soft glow of the fog.

Taking the bucket by the handle, Ricky moved towards the rear entrance of the pen with short steps, his body weighed down by the heavy bucket of meat he carried.

Then, the pained howl sounded once again.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” he said out loud, hoping to calm himself by hearing a spoken voice, even if it was his own.

Plopping the bucket down at his feet, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the ring that held keys to all of the enclosures in the zoo. Shuffling through them, he found the right key.

Another howl.

He undid the lock, put the key ring back, and opened the door, grabbing the bucket and stepping inside quickly as he did so.

Though he was now inside the pen, he still couldn’t make out where the tigers were.

“Here, kitty kitty,” he said, stepping further into the pen. “I’ve got a nice bucket of meat for ya. Some food’ll get you feelin’ right as rain.”

He hiccupped and the sound cut through the still air. 

Searching around himself with eager eyes, Ricky still couldn’t make out where the tigers were. It was almost as if they were hiding from him.

But just as he began to wonder if the animals were even in the cage, the slender, graceful silhouettes appeared, one to Ricky’s left, another perched on a tall pile of rocks.

“There y’are,” he said, bucket of meat in hand.

Moving from their positions, the tigers now slinked towards Ricky with slow, feline grace. But as they stepped closer, he noticed something: None of the handful of animals seemed to be injured in any way.

And they weren’t looking at the raw, ripped meat piled high in the bucket... they were looking at him.

They grew closer, their forms stepping out of the fog, revealing their magnificent striped bodies and their brilliant yellow eyes that stared impassively at Ricky.

Then, feet away from Ricky, they stopped. Fear began to quake in his belly- this wasn’t right. The animals should’ve known to keep their distance during feeding.

The last thing that Ricky noticed before the tiger on his left raised its body and swiped his massive paw across Ricky’s throat was the animal’s eyes. There was an intelligence about them, something human.

Ricky lived for only a few moments before the veins that sliced like paper under the tiger’s claw pumped out enough blood to slip him into unconsciousness, then death. The swipe was aimed not simply to kill him, but to make sure his death would be silent, without screams.

The tigers looked over the body for a moment, confirming that the drunk zookeeper was dead.

Then, they shifted.

First, the bodies of the tigers grew slim, their forelegs retracting, changing from the thick, orange legs to limbs that were long, and rich with sinew. The rear legs lengthened, taking on a toned, muscular form, developing over seconds the strength and shape of the legs of an animal meant to walk on them, and them alone. The fur of the tigers vanished, seemingly melting and revealing a skin that was dark and lustrous, like chocolate or umber. The torsos of the animals shifted from the sideways trunk shape of the tiger to an upright form, the skin hairless and toned. Then the faces turned, changing from the imperious feline visage of the tiger to angled faces of high, jutting cheekbones, thick, sensual lips, and intelligent, dark eyes.

There they stood, the men and women amidst the silence and fog that swirled around them, the men’s bodies hard and muscular in the moonlight, the women’s curvaceous, with heaving breasts and long, dark hair that sprouted from their beautiful faces.

Then one of the men spoke, a taller and leaner one, with a shaved head and wide jaw.

“What do you want to do about the body?” he asked, his voice tight, as though adjusting to speaking with human vocal cords after a long period of not using them. He looked down at the dead man.

“Leave it,” said the other man, the more muscular of the two, “the more we attempt to alter the scene, the more it will look to be the work of humans.”

“And what will they think now? That tigers tricked a zookeeper into letting them out?” asked one of the women.

The muscular man considered this question for a moment.

“It does not matter; they can come to whatever conclusions they wish. The only important thing is that they not suspect the truth.”

Then, simultaneously, the shifters looked down at their dark, nude bodies.

“We are going to need some clothing,” said the taller man.

“Of course. But let us not be distracted- we have others to free.”

The taller man shook his head.

“I say we leave them. For what reason do we need to associate with the Europeans?”

“We help each other leave, then we go our separate ways. That was the agreement. And we will abide by it.”

“Fine. Then let us go.”

Swiping the keys off of the body of Ricky, the dark-skinned men and women opened the steel bars of their pen, shifted back into their tiger forms, and rushed off. They tore down the curving pathways of the zoo, making their way towards the pen of the gray wolves. Once they arrived, the wolves looked down upon them through the fog with glowing, skeptical eyes. Then they shifted, their bodies shedding the shaggy fur of wolves and turning into toned, olive-skinned bodies of men and women. The gnarled body of Paul lay stretched out on the floor of the pen, a look of horror on his clawed face.

“What took you so long?” asked one of the men, his accent a smooth, melodic Italian.

Their cages were opened, and the pack of beasts ran out, the wind rushing through their fur as they tore through the evening fog, their paws landing heavily on the gravel of the paths as they moved.

Then they came to the final cage. The motley pack stood in front of the bars, looking into the fog. Massive, dark shapes moved in the mist, deep snorts sounding. Soon, the dark animals were revealed: a pack of massive brown bears. Quickly, they shifted, revealing pairs of stout-bodied men with bearded faces and wide-hipped women with flat, toned stomachs, large breasts and pale skin.

“We go?” asked one of the women, her voice in a rich, Slavic accent.

The pack confirmed. Shifting back into their bear forms, the bears joined the group, and the dozens of animals rushed towards the exit. And as they moved, they shifted back into their human forms and, with hopes of creating a distraction, let out several other animals. Within minutes, hyenas, a rhino, and two lions ran free, stalking through the grounds of the zoo, their various animal cries filling the night as they rampaged.

Taking advantage of the chaos, the pack of shifters made their way towards the wrought-iron gates of the zoo. But as they approached, they saw that the remaining employees. A hardscrabble band of men with terrified expressions on their faces, wielding shovels, pitchforks, and flaming pieces of wood, stood like a line of troops at the defense.

But as the pack drew close, the fear in the men’s eyes gave way to pure terror, and before the shifters could rush over them completely, they dived out of the way, screaming and shrieking as they did.

The pack was then beyond the gates and as they returned to the silence and still air, they stopped and shifted back into their human forms.

“Now what?” asked one of the Italian men.

“We split up,” said one of the Slavic. “Arrangement was only for escape. Now we go our separate ways.”

The taller dark-skinned man nodded.

“We will find a place for our people in this city,” he said, his arms crossed over his strong, taut chest. “Once we are settled, we can call others from our homelands.”

“Then we should claim parts of the city now,” said one of the Italians.

“Yes,” said one of the dark-skinned men. “We will take the place called Harlem, in the north. Some of our countrymen already live there.”

Two Slavic men convened for a moment before one stepped forward.

“The eastern side of the island will be ours; they call it the ‘East Village,’ I believe.”

“No,” said one of the dark women, stepping forward. “That is the part of the island that we wish to lay claim to.”

One of the Ukrainian women jumped out from the group and faced the woman who had just spoken.

“If you wish to fight over territory, I’m more than happy to start tonight.”

“Please. You are a fool if you think we Senegalese fear you.”

“I’ll give you something to fear.”

“Enough!” called out one of the Senegalese men. “You may take this village, but in return, we lay claim to the entirety of the neighborhood of Harlem. No Italian or Ukrainian shall impede on this territory.”

The two women started at each other, neither wanting to back down.

“Fine,” said the Senegalese woman. “Harlem is ours. Challenge it and risk your life.”

The Italians had a quick parley of their own before one stepped forward.

“And we will move to the lower tip of Manhattan. It is already a home for Italians, and we should easily be able to find our place.”

“I don’t know if I’m too thrilled about the Italians taking up a home so close to our neighborhood,” said one of the Ukrainians.

“No one said you had to like it, fool,” said one of the Italians.

“I grow tired of these negotiations,” said the Ukrainian man. “I will say this: If you even think about coming into our home, you will regret it. I swear this.”

“Your threats mean nothing to me,” said the Italian, clenching his fists.

“You know what?” said the Ukrainian. “I think we should settle this now, after all. We can fight now. Whoever wins can have the whole damn island.”

“That sounds fine to me,” said the Italian.

“And me as well,” said the largest of the Senegalese.

The three packs split into tight groups, each of the dozens of shifters staring at one another, all of them waiting for someone to make the first move.

Off in the distance, the low wailing of police sirens could be heard. The packs all looked at one another, knowing that if they were to stay and fight, the police would be upon them.

“It appears we’ll have to settle this some other night,” said one of the Italians.

“I’m sure we will have more than enough opportunities,” said one of the Senegalese women.

“Stay out of Little Italy if you value your lives,” said one of the Italian women to the rest of the shifters, before departing, her group following her into the night.

“And you,” said the Senegalese man. “Never come to Harlem.” They departed into the swirling fog.

Then the Ukrainians made their own escape.

And that evening, in the chilly fog of Central Park, an agreement born out of conflict would turn into an informal pact that would hold strong for over a century. The Senegalese would lay claim to Harlem, in the area that would soon be known as Le Petite Senegal, bringing in dozens of their tiger-shifting countrymen and women over the coming decades. The Ukrainians would claim the East Village, bringing in their own people and growing wealthy and powerful as the land they owned grew in value. And the Italians claimed Little Italy, taking up residence in the area that would be known as Nolita.

A relative peace existed for a great while, though not without some conflict. But now, in the 21st century, events would unfold that would threaten to destroy the fabric of this delicate peace, and change the city forever.

 

New York, New York – Present Day

“Good evening, New York!” shouted Boris Trotsky into the microphone, his eyes on the packed, teeming crowd of the rock venue. “We. Are. Blood. And. Claw!”

With a quick upstroke, he raked his guitar pick over the strings of his instrument, a crunching, distorted guitar chord blasting from the massive speaker towers behind him, drowning out the wild cheering of the crowd. His eyes scanned the room as the feedback from the chord droned. As usual, the front row was filled with young women all looking up at him with seductive eyes, waiting for him to cast a spell with his songs.

But none of them was the woman he was looking for.

To Boris’s right, Ivan Dragovich, the bassist, began plucking at the fat strings of his instrument, a staccato, marching bassline thrumming from the speakers. Aran Popov at the drumkit clacked his sticks together, and Boris cast his eyes over the eager crowd one last time, still looking for that same girl.

He smirked to himself as he fingered the strings of his crimson guitar, preparing to launch into the lead riff of the song. Boris knew she was here somewhere, and he’d find her one way or another.

The instruments came together in a deafening collision of music, the volume and speed of the sound blasting out of the speakers with such power that Boris felt as though the walls of the club might come down. Switching from the intro riff to a distorted power chord progression, Boris stepped closer to the mic, his mouth directly before it.

“A silver moon is a secret eye/a devil’s coin in a pallid sky.”

The crowd went wild as soon as Boris began to sing, his voice the perfect blend of gruff and masculine mixed with clear and melodic.

This was Blood and Claw’s third show of the week at the Gramercy, and each evening’s performance packed more and more fans onto the floor of the venue. As one of the hottest bands in the New York rock scene, there seemed to be no limit to their popularity.

“A winter wind through the copper sand/the demon’s kin unfurls his hand.”

With a quick glance to the rest of the band, Boris shifted the tempo of the song, slowing down but maintaining the crushing pulse of the music. He lifted his fingers from the strings, letting the tribal rhythm of the drum and bass lure the audience into a trance-like state.  

Boris looked over the crowd yet again and, like before, did not see her. But as he shifted his gaze to the back of the venue, towards the faraway corner illuminated by soft, orange light, he caught glimpse of her. He’d know that body anywhere- those willowy limbs, that fair skin, that cropped, hair as red as blood. It was her.

His prey spotted, Boris returned his nimble fingers to the strings, preparing to begin the show-stopping solo. And as he plucked the first notes, the crowd going silent as he did, he had one thing and one thing only on his mind.

Her.

The interplay of the guitar, bass, and drums reached a fevered, crashing intensity. Boris’s skin, hot from both the stage lights and his playing, was wet with a thin sheen of sweat. The drums switched to double-time, Ivan began droning on the same low, pounding bass note, and Boris’s fingers danced on the high, thin strings, screaming as he plucked them. They continued in this fashion, the eyes of the crowd on them, all in the same trance.

Then, with a series of three slams on a heavy, deep chord, coordinated with the bass and the drums, the song, and the set, ended.

“Thank you, Gramercy!” shouted Boris into the mic, his body was that intoxicated combination of spent and energized that always followed a strong set.

The crowd went wild with applause as the bright white of the house lights filled the room, wreathing the outlines of the members of the band in an ethereal glow.

But Boris had a new concern. His narrowed eyes scanned the crowd for her once more, landing on her in that same faraway place where she had been. But unlike before, where she seemed to be more interested in the conversation with those she came with, her eyes now met his. A small smile crossed his lips, knowing that the game was on.

He set his guitar onto his stand, and flashed a finger-spread open palm to his bandmates, signaling “five minutes.” They nodded, their faces almost stupefied with the thrill of a set performed perfectly.

Crouching down and stepping from the stage, Boris walked through the crowd of adoring fans, their hands outstretched as if hoping for a mere touch of his skin. The women in the front row signaled their interest with sultry, burning eyes and coy smiles. But Boris was single-minded.

The crowd spread apart as he walked, as though he were a returning, conquering king. The girl, his target, was now a few feet away, and met his eyes with an expectant gaze as he approached. Boris closed the last bit of distance between him and the girl, stopping only when he was inches away from her.

“Hell of a set,” she said, her fingertip on the end of the slim, red straw of her drink.

“Thanks,” he said, turning to the bartender and signaling for a pair of drinks.

“Boris Trotsky,” she said, as though trying the name on for size, her limpid blue eyes looking away is if in thought.

“And I don’t even know your first name,” he said. But he did.

“Mona,” she said. “Mona Allegra.”

“Mona Allegra,” said Boris. “Are you here by yourself, Mona Allegra?”

“I’m not,” she said, the bartender handing her and Boris a drink. “I’m with that big guy, right over there.”

With a languidly-raised finger, Mona gestured towards a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black undershirt and flashy, designer jeans. His hair was jet black and his skin was the same porcelain as Mona’s. Intricate tattoos snaked up and down his massive, muscular arms.

“Big guy, indeed,” said Boris, taking a sip from the cool bottle of beer in his hand.

“My brother,” she said. “Very protective.”

Boris threw another glance at her brother. Just like Mona, he knew who this man was. He knew exactly who he was. It was Giovanni Allegra, the man who was responsible for the death of Boris’s beloved girlfriend. He was the reason why Boris was even speaking to this girl, Mona.

“Seems to be slacking on his duties if a guy like me can slip past.”

“He gets distracted easily,” said Mona.

Sure enough, Giovanni’s attention seemed to be occupied at the moment by a pair of young women who were looking up at him as he spoke with a loud voice and punchy gesticulations. A loud, barking laugh erupted from the trio, Giovanni’s carrying across the venue.

“I can see that,” said Boris.

“And what kind of guy are you exactly, Mr. Trotsky?” asked Mona, that same coy smile playing on her face.

“The kind of guy who wants to get you out of here,” said Boris.

“Oh? And what did you have in mind?” she asked, intrigued.

“Somewhere I can get to know you a little better without a pair of watchful eyes looking us over.”

“Very well. You lead, I’ll follow.”

Boris turned, gesturing for Mona to follow, a smirk on his full lips.

“This might be easier than I thought,” thought Boris to himself as they weaved through the dense crowd, the next phase of his plan clear in his mind.

 

The house music throbbed as Boris led Mona through the tightly-packed crowd, the faces of Boris’s fans lighting up as he passed.

“Popular boy,” said Mona, staying close enough to Boris that she could feel the heat radiating from the bare skin of his ropy arms.

“I suppose you could say that,” he said as they closed in on the door to the backstage area that he was leading her towards.

They reached it, and Boris pulled it open, revealing a dingy, narrow hallway with walls of black, chipped paint and worn posters advertising shows long since passed.

“I figured the backstage would be a little more…glamorous than this,” said Mona, looking around.

“They’re not much for frills here,” said Boris still leading her, now down the hallway towards a set of double doors.

But before they could reach them, the door to the green room opened to their right, the bright lights of the space flooding the dark hallway. And standing in the frame of the door was Ivan, a wide smile plastered on his face, his shaggy, brown hair falling on both sides of his features.

“Boris, there you are!” he said, his words uneven.

“Ivan,” said Boris, hiding his frustration at being distracted.

“Where’d you run off to, man?” Ivan asked. “We’re gonna party the fuck out of the green room before we gotta go. You in?”

Ivan moved his burly body to the side, revealing a medium-sized room lined with dirty couches of black leather. The couches were packed with groupies, as well as a few male hangers-on, all drinking and carousing. The glass table in the middle of the room was topped with a large pile of white powder which the partiers were all taking turns with. Loud, rock music blasted from a speaker in the corner of the room. Looking around, Boris could see Aran sitting on the couch, both arms over the slim shoulders of a pair of groupies.

“I think I’ll pass,” said Boris.

Ivan’s bleary eyes settled on Mona, and he looked her over with a blatant, sexual scan.

“Ah. Ah. I got ya,” he said, connecting a playful jab to Boris’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it, my man.”

With that, he turned and headed back into the room.

“Don’t ash that fuckin’ cigarette in my beer, asshole!” were his last words before the door shut behind him, the blaring music from the speakers returning to a muffled din through the door.

“Charming man,” said Mona.

“Not the word I’d use, but to each her own,” he said.

The partying in the green room enticed Mona- it was a rare occasion that her brother let her out of the house- but she was still keen to follow Boris wherever he was taking her. She figured that Boris’s bandmate wasn’t too far off with his suggestion as to what Boris had in mind, but she didn’t want to say anything; it was more fun to just see how things played out.

They reached the double doors, which lead to a narrow stairwell that seemed to stretch up forever.

“That’s quite a hike,” she said, looking up.

“That’s why we’re taking the elevator,” said Boris, titling his head towards a small black door to their right.

He hit a button to the right of the door which slid open, revealing a small elevator car.

“After you,” said Boris.

With a coy smile, Mona stepped in, and Boris followed, hitting a button marked “R,” the door shutting behind him.

The elevator was small, cramped, and lit with a single, low light. Mona and Boris were packed in tightly, their bodies nearly touching. Boris said nothing as he looked into Mona’s eyes, letting the thrill of being with the lead singer of the band do the work for him. And as he watched Mona’s full lips part slightly, her teeth biting down on them sensually, he knew that he wouldn’t have to work very hard for what he wanted. And though Mona was merely an objective in a larger goal, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. His eyes drifted down to the curves of her hips, her shapely legs which seemed on the verge of bursting from the black, skin-tight jeans they were in, the hint of her flat, toned stomach, and her cleavage which was exposed tantalizingly.

But before he could consider her body further, the doors slid open. Mona took in a small gasp as she saw where they were.

The scene before them was the stretch of the city, glittering white and orange with evening lights. They were on the roof of the building, the evening summer air warm and fresh on their skin. Boris stepped out of the elevator, beckoning for Mona to follow him.

She obeyed, following him onto the concrete expanse of the rooftop, the city backdrop unfolding before her with each step. Mona had lived in the city for years, but seeing the majesty and scale of the Manhattan skyline from a height like this was something that never grew old.

Boris continued to walk, stopping only when he reached the waist-high cement wall of the roof. He sat down upon it and gestured once again towards Mona.

“Hell of a view,” he said.

“I don’t know how you can sit there,” said Mona, a sliver of fear running through her stomach when she saw how close Boris was to the edge. “That’s gotta be 500 feet down.”

“550,” he said, turning his gaze back towards the city. “Come on, everything good comes with a little risk.”

Mona walked with careful steps towards Boris. When she, at last, reached him, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and moved her body onto the cement wall.

“Can’t appreciate the view if you keep your eyes closed,” said Boris, his low voice seemingly carried on the high, city winds.

Taking one last breath, Mona forced her eyes open. And he was right: the view was incredible. The spires of the city stretched northward, the forms of the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building imposing and alight. The slivered moon hung overhead, and the gentle din of city traffic floated up to where they sat. Craning her head and looking to the right, Mona could see the blue, shimmering form of the East River, and the lights of Brooklyn beyond.

Then, she turned her gaze to Boris, who looked at her with a sensual, hot stare, his gray eyes seeming to burn through her. 

“Told you it was worth it,” he said, his lips curling up on one side.

Her gaze then drifted down to Boris’s chest, the top buttons of his black, button-up shirt undone, the top curves of his perfectly defined chest exposed, the wind nipping at the edges of the fabric. She felt herself drift into him, totally under his spell. Her eyes closed once again and her head began to move towards Boris, as though being pulled by a force out of her control. Her wet lips parted slightly, and at that moment she wanted nothing more than to fall into the embrace of this strange, sensual man- this artist who radiated with animal energy.

But the spell was broken by the clanging slam of the rooftop door. Turning her head, she saw Giovanni, her brother, standing in the frame with his face twisted in hot anger.

“Mona, step away from this fucker right now!” he yelled while rushing towards them at a pace that was so fast as to be inhuman.

 

As he grew closer, Boris could see that Giovanni’s eyes were a deep yellow with small, red splotches in the middle. He stopped when he was mere feet from them, his lungs expanding and contracting with deep, full breaths.

“Mona, you stupid girl. Do you have any idea what this man is?”

“He’s…he’s,” but Mona didn’t know how to finish the sentence, knowing that simply stating that he was the lead singer of the band, which was all she knew about him beyond his name, clearly wasn’t the answer her brother was looking for.

“He’s a goddamn bear!” shouted Giovanni, his face shifting and twisting, as though his bones were restructuring under his skin.

Boris stood up, adrenaline pumping through his veins upon seeing that Giovanni was in the process of shifting.

“And what, you’re going to kill me for talking with a wolf? What good would that do?”

Giovanni’s hands clenched into tight, red fists, and Boris could see the first grey dustings on his skin from the fur beginning to form. Boris responded by letting the adrenaline work through him, beginning his own shift.

Boris noted that while Giovanni knew that Boris was a bear, he didn’t seem to be aware of his identity beyond that. He had no idea of the hatred that Boris held for Giovanni, or the lengths that he’d go to in order to satisfy the need for revenge that had been boiling in his heart for more than a year.

“There’s no goddamn way that I’m going to let my sister fuck around with a bear! Never!”

“Gio, don’t! Stop!” yelled Mona, her arms, too, darkening with fur. Her eyes changed in color from a soft blue to a wicked yellow, her expression fearful, as though not able to fully control her shifting.

“Stay outta this!” Giovanni shouted, his arms growing in size and the fabric of his clothing beginning to split and tear.

Boris felt his own body increase in size, his clothes now tight and stretched over the bulk. His fingers began to lengthen and sharpen, his hands changing into the large, crushing paws of a bear.

“Please! Stop!” said Mona, her red hair lengthening, her limbs growing and thinning into the lean limbs of a wolf. “I don’t know how to control it!”

“She doesn’t know how to control her shifting?” shouted Boris, his voice now inhumanely low.

“She’ll figure it out!” shouted Giovanni, his glowing eyes not turning from Boris.

“You want to protect your sister? How the hell are you going to do that when she’s in the middle of a shift she can’t control?”

A look of realization crossed over Giovanni’s now fur-covered face. He turned his head towards Mona, who was still in the early phase of her shift.

“Please!” she shouted.

Giovanni stopped his own shift, now considering the situation.

A moment passed.

“Fine!” he yelled, reversing his shift, his body returning to his human form within seconds.

“Good call,” said Boris, doing the same, shifting back to his human form.

Giovanni looked over at Mona. While her shift had stopped now that Boris and Giovanni were no longer near blows, she was still partially in her wolf form. And she was badly shaken by the near-fight.

“Come on, we’re getting out of here,” demanded Giovanni, his narrowed eyes still on Boris.

“Give her a goddamn second!” said Boris, his hand now on Mona’s back as she slowly shifted back to human form.

“Get your hand off of her,” demanded Giovanni. “She’s 21; she should know how to control her shifting by now.”

Boris held his hand on her back for a second longer- briefly enough to not inflame Giovanni’s anger further, but long enough to let him see that he wouldn’t simply do as Giovanni commanded.

But Mona stopped him before he could take his hand away, wrapping her now-hairless hands around Boris’s arm and lifting herself to her feet. With slow, careful steps she walked to Giovanni’s side.

“Listen, rocker boy- this is your one warning. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a bear or not; if you even think about going near my sister again, you’re fucking dead.”

And with that, he grabbed Mona’s upper arm and walked towards the rooftop exit with her.

But before they disappeared down the stairs, Mona looked back at Boris with a look of longing.

They left the roof, Mona’s slim body disappearing behind the elevator doors.

Boris knew that look; it meant that the seed was planted. He was planning to inflame Giovanni’s protective instinct, but Boris was expecting the standard “older brother/kid sister” sort of protectiveness. He wasn’t at all expecting Giovanni to be as controlling and tyrannical towards Mona as he had just been.

But it didn’t surprise Boris in the slightest.

He knew how cruel Giovanni could be. After all, he was the one who stole Melanie, Boris’s ex-girlfriend, from him, enticing her with promises of drugs and money. But he didn’t care for Melanie one iota- he simply saw someone new, another young woman he could use and abuse, getting her hooked onto heroin for no other reason than to have one more addict under his thumb.

Boris got over the heartbreak of Melanie leaving him, and under normal circumstances would’ve let the situation go.

But these weren’t normal circumstances.

Over the course of the months following Melanie leaving him for Giovanni, Boris was forced to watch as his love grew sicker and frailer by the day as the drugs did their insidious work on her body.

Weeks after he last saw her at a dive bar in Bushwick, her eyes sunken, her skin the color of curdled tallow, Boris heard that her body was found on the shore of Coney Island, the morning waves nipping her skin.

Her death was written up as a simple overdose- and it was- but that pat description failed to take into consideration the months of slow torture Melanie went through before she injected the dose that finally did her in.

And it was all due to Giovanni.

Boris knew that he’d be able to get back at him. The plan was simple: Seduce Mona and steal her away from him. Over time, he’d bring her into the fold, and she’d soon leave the wolves and their kind behind. And then he could figure out what to do with Giovanni.

How attracted he found himself to Mona, and how despicably Giovanni treated her, however, were two factors that Boris hadn’t counted on.

Looking around at the buildings that surrounded him on the rooftop, Boris considered his next move. He would have to move in fast, taking advantage of Mona’s obvious attraction towards him. But he’d have to step lightly, as the encounter between he and Giovanni reminded him that things were getting tense between the Italian Wolves and the Ukrainian Bears; one step over the line could mean open war.

Boris stepped back into the elevator, the glittering cityscape shut out by the elevator doors. Once he reached the bottom floor of the venue, he returned to the green room, where the post-show debauchery was in full swing. Ivan greeted Boris with a beer, but Boris knew he wasn’t in the mood for the usual rock star nonsense. Sipping his beer as Ivan, Aron, and the rest of the partiers danced, smoked, snorted, and fondled, nothing was on his mind but the simple, sweet revenge. 

 

Mona watched as Giovanni clenched his jaw and his hands gripped the steering wheel, his fingers red with tension.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he said, flashing an expression of barely constrained rage at her for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the road. “If you’re going to be a goddamn skank for any shithead with a guitar, at least make sure they’re not a goddamn bear!”

Mona looked at the back of her hands as Giovanni whipped the car down the lanes of Lower Manhattan, making his way to Nolita, the home neighborhood of the Italian Wolves.

“I can talk to whatever guy I want, you asshole!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff.

“You think that, but you’re fuckin’ wrong. You think you can get involved with those Ukrainian pricks? You think I’m gonna just stand around while my kid sister lets some Red shithead put his greasy fuckin’ paws all over you? No goddamn way.”

He pulled a sharp turn, the rubber of the tires squealing and the honking of horns sounding around them.

“You’re gonna get us killed, you goon!” yelled Mona.

“Not if you don’t do it first,” said Giovanni.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked.

“Do you know how close we are to war with the bears? Real fuckin’ close. And if you get involved with one-a them, who knows if some stupid couples spat you two have’ll end up bein’ the match that sets this whole powder keg off.”

“That’s really rich, considering the reason for this whole maybe-war is that you assholes won’t stop selling drugs.”

Giovanni clenched his jaw once again, this time with such tension that Mona wondered if Giovanni was going to grind his perfect, white teeth into a fine powder.

“You stay out of the business of our business, you got that?”

“It’s because of you guys, getting into selling drugs instead of legitimate business like the tigers and bears, that we’re so close to war!”

“Not another word,” said Giovanni, his voice now low and grim.

Mona recognized this tone, it meant that Giovanni was done messing around. She took this as her cue to stay quiet, unless she wanted to watch Giovanni punch out the driver’s side window of the car, something that he’d done more than once before.

As soon as the talking stopped, the image of Boris Trotsky, the man who was the cause of this whole argument, floated into her mind. Boris had been the object of her fantasies for months, ever since she saw Blood and Claw play for the first time at a warehouse show in Brooklyn. She never thought that he’d actually want anything to do with her; she figured that a popular, unbelievably sexy musician like him could have his pick of any woman in the city. Why would he want someone like her?

But, against all reason, he did. She couldn’t get the way he looked out of her mind as he sat on the cement wall of the rooftop, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and cuffed around his lean, thick biceps, the way he looked at her with his piercing, gray eyes…

She wanted him in spite of Giovanni’s protestations. In fact, the more of a production Giovanni made about Boris, the more Mona wanted him, partially out of lust, partially out of a desire to stand up to her domineering brother. Mona hated how Giovanni sought to control her every move. He said he did it to keep her safe, but the older she grew, the more she began to suspect his need to keep constant tabs on her was less out of brotherly concern and more an extension of his need to have as much as control as possible over every facet of his life.

After a time, they arrived in the familiar streets of Nolita. Slim, multicolored apartment buildings with wrought-iron fire escapes were the sign that they were back in the neighborhood where she had spent her life to this point. The garage door to their townhome opened as they approached and the car slid into the cave-like interior.

“You’re staying here tonight,” he said when they parked. “After that shit you just pulled…”

He shook his head, his voice trailing.

“Don’t be surprised if I keep you locked up in your goddamn room for the next week.”

She knew he wasn’t being totally serious, but keeping her in her room for days at a time, only able to leave for brief periods, was a punishment that he had meted out many times before. But only when she was a teen in high school.

“I’m an adult!” Mona protested. “You can’t just ground me like I’m some kind of kid!”

“Oh, yes I can,” he said, that familiar anger returning to his steely eyes. “As long as our money’s in my name, I tell you what to do.”

“Maybe I’ll leave! See if you can stop me!”

Giovanni slammed his palm against the textured rubber of the steering wheel.

“Oh, you’ll leave? Then what? Be a shop girl in one of these rich lay boutiques makin’ fifteen bucks an hour? Livin’ all the way out in fuckin’ Jersey, takin’ the train for an hour and a half there and back? That the kind of life you wanna live?”

Mona considered his words, understanding that he was right. There’d be no chance for a girl like her in the city without the resources that her ancestors had earned and left for them. But they were from a different time and gave the men in the family total control over the finances; she couldn’t go down to the bodega on the corner for a sandwich without making sure it fit into her allowance for the week.

Giovanni’s expression softened as he clenched his fist tight for a moment before releasing it. He took a deep breath, then turned back towards Mona, his anger seemingly cooled.

“Listen,” he said, the harsh lights of the garage filling the car and casting his face in an almost sickly appearance. “I love you, Mo. You know that, right?”

Mona sighed and nodded. She hated the way Giovanni controlled her, but she would be wrong if she were to say it wasn’t mostly driven by his love for her and desire to keep her safe.

“Yeah, I know, Gio.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. And things are bad with the bears, worse than you know. And that’s for a reason: I keep that shit out of your life. I make sure none of the violence and shit on those streets ever finds you.”

Mona nodded again, unable to dispute these words.

“Now let’s get up to the apartment. I got some people waiting for me.”

Mona’s stomach sank at these last words; she knew exactly what kind of people would be up there.

They got out of the car, left the garage, and entered the small hallway that led from the garage to the lower-level living room of the townhome. Mona could already hear the loud music playing through the door, along with the raucous carrying-on of men and women inside.

“I want you to get up to your room right when we get inside,” said Giovanni, his hands on the doorknob, his eyes a stern glare.

Then he opened the door, and the two stepped inside.

 

The spacious living room was occupied by a dozen of fellow shifters, both men and women. They were lounging here and there on the expensive furniture that had been in the home for decades, and all were drinking, smoking cigarettes, making messes without any heed for what they ruined or who would be cleaning things up. Mona knew it would invariably be her.

“There’re my fuckin’ people!” said Giovanni, his arms outstretched as he entered the room with a cocky strut.

The group burst out into various uproarious greetings.

“Someone give me a fuckin’ beer,” he said to no one in particular, walking into the center of the room and collapsing into the only chair that was unoccupied, the one that everyone knew was reserved him, and him alone.

Mona stood in the doorway, noticing that no one got up to get the beer that Giovanni requested. She sighed, realizing that it was understood that the “someone” was her. She walked into the kitchen with quick, frustrated steps, and opened the tall, stainless steel fridge, taking a bottle of beer. Looking around the kitchen, she felt her blood run hot as she observed the mess of empty beer bottles, piles of takeout boxes from the barbecue place downstairs, and tracked footprints from the heavy boots the men of her kind favored.

She returned to the living room, seeing that a pair of young women, both blonde, both attractive, both with the same sneer on their faces, had joined Giovanni. The three of them were packed tightly into the overstuffed chair.

“There’s my beer,” said Giovanni as Mona entered.

She handed the beer over to him, which he took with a quick swipe.

“Thanks, sis.”

“This is your sister?” asked one of the girls, looking over Mona with a scan of harsh appraisal. “How old is she, 12?”

“Yeah, she looks like she should be in her room listening to Taylor Swift,” said the other, both of the women laughing.

“Hey, lay off,” said Giovanni, his expression turning severe. “That’s my fuckin’ sister you’re talking about.”

Recognizing immediately how serious Giovanni was, the two girls quickly clammed up, looking down at the floor.

“But seriously, sis- get up to your room. You’re gonna be there for the rest of the weekend.”

“But…“

“No ‘but,’” said Giovanni. “You don’t need to be around for what’s going down in here.”

Mona knew what that meant- as the evening went on, the beer would be replaced by harder and harder drugs. Looking around at the crowd, she only recognized a few familiar faces from the pack; the rest were junkies, or junkies in the making. The girls on Giovanni’s lap were his girls for the week, low-class girls with good looks and few brains, along for the excitement and thrills of being with a big-time drug dealer. Mona knew that they’d be swapped out in a few days for the next pair before they had the chance to see Giovanni’s true shifter nature, some drugs thrown their way to keep them hooked and quiet.

“Seriously, sis- get up to your room,” said Giovanni, his voice taking on the tone that signaled he was done talking.

Mona knew that there’d be no point in protesting. She started off towards the stairwell, feeling the eyes of the male drug buyers on her, their gazes lingering on her body. Mona hated the feeling of these low-life men looking at her like this, and though she hated the idea of being stuck up her room for the night, she now preferred it to being around the types of people that Giovanni dealt with.

She ran up the stairs, arriving at the second of the three floors of the home. But as she prepared to finish the trip up to her room, she was struck by the sight of a pair of silhouettes standing on the balcony. Nothing but their outlines were visible, aside from the pair of orange embers of their cigarettes as they took slow drags.

Mona stepped towards the balcony, curious as to who was out there. She knew hey must’ve been guests of the party, but they were choosing to be apart from it, smoking on the balcony in peace rather than partaking in the debauchery that was on the verge of breaking out.

She walked slowly, her steps quiet and careful, as though the pair were two wild animals that she didn’t want to scare off. But as she drew close enough to see details of the pair, the doors to the balcony flew open, the cool, evening air rushing into the apartment.

Mona saw instantly that the pair on the balcony weren’t like the others downstairs. They were Senegalese Tiger shifters- a man and a woman. The two were tall, with dark, ebony skin and white eyes with chocolate circles in the middle that gazed upon Mona with expressions of knowing amusement, the din of the street below swirling around them. Both were dressed in tight-fitting, stylish clothing of mute colors and vaguely African inspiration, and both were strikingly beautiful.

“There’s the little girl we’ve been hearing so very much about,” said the man, flashing two rows of pearl-white teeth as he spoke.

“It appears so,” said the woman, looking Mona up and down. “But isn’t it always the case that when you hear so much about someone before meeting them they always end up being shorter in person?”

The man chuckled while swirling a glass of red wine.

“Yes, that is true. Especially when they end up being this small.”

“Who the hell are you two?” asked Mona, frustrated with being spoken about in such a way, right to her face.

“We are guests of your brother, of course,” said the man, as though the statement were so obvious that he found it strange the question even needed to be asked.

“Then what are you doing up here?” asked Mona. “Why aren’t you both downstairs with the rest of the…guests?”

“I am thinking that ‘guests’ wasn’t the word that she wanted to say, my brother,” said the woman to the man, a smile creeping across her full, dark lips.

“I am thinking the same thing,” said the man. “But what bad guests we’re being, separate from the party and not even introducing ourselves to the sister of our gracious host.”

“Sana,” said the woman, touching the bare upper portion of her chest with the fingertips of her right hand.

“And I am Awa,” said the man, raising his glass of wine before bringing it to his lips.

“How do you know me?” asked Mona. “Have we met before?”

“We have not, little one,” said Awa. “But we have heard much about you.”

“How? From Giovanni?” Mona asked, feeling ill at ease.

The two shared a knowing look.

“Yes, from your brother,” said Sana.

“We do not wish to be rude, little Mona,” said Awa. “But we are in the middle of a private conversation.”

“Yes,” said Sana. “An important one.”

“Hey, I live here,” said Mona, indignation to her voice. “You can’t ju-“

“But it was a pleasure meeting you,” said Awa, interrupting.

“And we are certain that we will be seeing more of you in the future,” said Sana.

Mona said nothing, simply backing away from the strange pair and shutting the door behind her. She walked the rest of the distance up to the third floor, the entirety of which was more-or-less her room. The events of the evening swirling in her mind, Mona collapsed on her bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

“Mona! Where the hell are you?” yelled Giovanni from beyond the door.

Mona’s eyes shot open and she jumped out of bed, knowing even through the sleep that hung heavy on her that she shouldn’t keep Giovanni waiting. She threw on a pair of jeans and a tight-fitting t-shirt, stepped into a pair of sneakers, and dashed down towards Giovanni’s master bedroom on the second floor.

Mona had slept well into the afternoon, only leaving her bed when she awoke to get something to eat. The living room was a mess, as expected, and she was grateful to have so much space in the house so she could at least have some respite from the constant, loud partying Giovanni always seemed to be bringing into their home.

Once down on the second floor, Mona saw that the door to Giovanni’s bedroom was wide open. He was sitting on the edge of his massive bed with his head in his hands, the sheets a mess around him, beer bottles and drug paraphernalia on the floor, the two girls from the night before on the bed, their limbs sticking out in random angles from underneath the covers.

“There you are, goddamnit,” he said, his voice tired and worn. “How long were you gonna make me yell?”

“You know, you could just come up and knock on my door like a normal person,” Mona said, frustration in her voice.

“Mo, don’t even think about starting my day with attitude,” he said.

“Well, what do you want?”

“I got another get-together happening tonight. High-ups, important people this time.”

Mona’s stomach sank and the idea of having to suffer through another one of Giovanni’s drug-deals.

“I want you to get the downstairs spic-and-fuckin’-span for tonight.”

She wanted to protest, but knew it wouldn’t do her any good.

“Fine,” she said, stomping off downstairs into the living room.

The beer bottles and cans were one thing, but as she looked over the evidence of the drugs sales that and the attendant samplings that took place last night, a feeling that was a combination of fear and anger began to swell in her. Giovanni was getting deeper and deeper into the drug world by the day, and Mona feared it would open up and swallow the both of them into it.

Ever since her people, the Italian Wolves, arrived in the city in the latter part of the 19th century, they strove to maintain a strong tradition of hard, honest work. Like the other European immigrants who came to the city during this time, they were outsiders in a home so unlike the one where they had grown up. But unlike the other Italians that arrived in the new world, her ancestors had another aspect to their nature that made isolated them from the rest of their new home: they were shifters.

They kept to themselves, for fear of their powers being known. But despite this burden, they worked feverishly, so that they could amass a fortune large enough for their descendants to have wealth substantial enough to not only live well, but to stay competitive with the Ukrainian bears and the Senegalese tigers that also called the city home. They knew that if they fell behind and became less powerful, they would be overwhelmed by the other shifters in the city.

So they worked, becoming extremely wealthy in the process- wealthy enough for the pack to stay strong and rich, and wealthy enough that they could bring new shifters into the fold, if they so choose.

But this all changed when Mona and Giovanni’s parents were killed by Ukrainians decades ago. Giovanni, revenge and rage in his heart, quickly took over the pack when he came of age, using the power of the blood of the Alphas who were in his line to seize control. And when he was firmly placed in charge he made two oaths, the first that he would one day destroy the Ukrainians, and the second that he would make the pack more rich and powerful, by any means necessary.

To this end, he used the money passed down from generation to generation to purchase product and connections, embroiling the pack in the New York drug trade. He peddled heroin and coke to whoever wanted it, selling more and more by year. And over the course of the last few years, he had become one of the most powerful drug kingpins in the city.

This power, however, came at the cost of the strength of the pack. The rest of the wolves were fiercely opposed to involving the pack in the drug trade, preferring the honest work of their ancestors. They, like Mona, knew it was only a matter of time before either the law or one of the other drug families in the city came down on them, and when that day arrived the pack would be torn apart. But Giovanni was the alpha, and due to his standing, the pack was obliged to do whatever he commanded. Unless the wolves wanted to overthrow him- a power shift that could be deadly with the possible war with the Ukrainians on the horizon- they were stuck with his orders.

Mona knew that she was safe for now, but knew it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

She cleaned the living room as best she could, knowing that it would be a wreck again before the night was out. And by the time she finished, it was well into the evening, the lights of the street beyond the massive windows of the living room flooding the otherwise dim room.

With the downstairs clean, she had no reason to be out of her room; Mona knew that she would incur Giovanni’s wrath if she was out here against his wishes. Taking a beer from the fridge, she went back up to her room to spend the rest of the Saturday evening ahead alone.

Cracking the beer and taking a sip as she collapsed onto her bed, the events of the evening prior flooded her mind as she looked out of the bedroom window onto the evening cityscape. She thought of Boris, how he looked on stage, his guitar slung down to his knees, his handsome face tightened into an expression of passion as he sang his lyrics. She’d had her eye on him for months and last night she finally had her chance. But Giovanni and his protective, controlling nature once again interfered with any chance of her being able to live anything resembling a normal.

She was beginning to resent Giovanni, wanting nothing more than to tell him that he couldn’t control her forever, that his reckless rule of their pack would be the death of all of them. But she knew that she couldn’t tell Giovanni these things- even though she was his sister, confronting the Alpha in such a way was tantamount to rebellion. He would be obliged to put her down to protect his status.

Mona felt trapped. Sure, she had an amazing place to live and didn’t have to worry about money, but she wondered what was the point of any of that if she couldn’t live how she wanted? And her shifting was beginning to happen more and more frequently; she still didn’t know how to control it.

Taking another sip of her beer, Mona reached for her laptop, preparing to spend another dull evening inside, followed by a day of more cleaning.

But before she could open her computer, a rapping sounded at her window. She gasped, seeing that there was someone standing on her fire escape. She clamored out of bed and drew close, her heart racing as she tried to imagine who could be standing there.

Then, to her surprise, she saw that it was Boris. She gasped, her beer falling to the floor with a thud.

 

Mona looked around in her room, as though she were expecting Giovanni to be standing behind her, aware of what was happening. She drew closer to the window, now near enough to be able to see Boris in clear detail. He was wearing another button-up shirt, like last night, though this one was a deep, dark red. It fit his muscular torso snugly, hinting at what lay beneath. His hair was slicked backwards, looking dark and wet. His gorgeous face was fixed in an expression that was sensual and playful, as though attempting to entice her to break the rules simply with a glance. When Mona drew close enough, Boris flicked his eyebrows and nodded towards the hatch to the window.

Her eyes fixed on his, Mona opened the window.

“Good evening,” he said, his voice calm and low, as though what he was doing was as not something that was putting his life at risk.

“What are you doing here?” Mona hissed, her eyes wide as she threw one last glance back towards to the door to make sure it was shut.

“I’m here to see you, of course.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing right now?

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” he said.

Mona huffed and crossed her arms under her breasts.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I’m here to ask if you’d like to join me for the evening.”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little. Come, step outside with me.”

Mona knew she shouldn’t even be talking to Boris, let alone leaving the apartment with him. Her rational mind knew that she should shut the window, draw the blinds, and pretend that she never saw Boris. But instead, she complied, stepping out of the window and onto the fire escape, the sounds of the traffic below rushing up to greet her. A soft, warm wind was blowing. As she brought her other foot over the window, Boris held Mona steady by her upper arms, that same rush of passion coursing through her blood as his skin touched hers.

“Do you have any idea who my brother is?” she asked

“Of course I do. And I know that he keeps you here in a gilded cage.”

Mona said nothing. She felt silly for asking him if he knew how Giovanni was- every shifter did. And every shifter also knew how dangerous he was.

“So what, you think you’re just going to show up and I’ll come with you, no questions asked?”

“I think the time for ‘no questions asked’ has already passed.”

“Cute. But I got in some serious shit last night for talking with you. If Giovanni sees me with you again...”

“If he finds out, which he won’t, then I’ll be the one who pays the price. He talks a big talk, but he’d never do anything worse to his little sister than ground you like a tyrannical father.”

Mona said nothing as she continued to glower at Boris, her blue eyes narrowed, her thin arms crossed again.

“Besides, you know that once his little parties downstairs get going, he’ll be distracted for the night.”

She knew that he was right about this. But still, she couldn’t help but wonder how Boris knew so many details about her and Giovanni’s relationship. It’s almost as if he’d done his homework.

“Come on, there are more fun things we can be doing than standing on a fire escape,” he said, extending his hand.

Mona’s worried expression turned to a sly, conspiratorial one. She took his hand, and with the gracefulness that shifters were capable of, they bounded down the fire escape and onto the city streets below. Once on the sidewalk, they stood still for a moment, the throngs of pedestrians moved around them like river water around a pair of stones, the last vestiges of the setting sun filling the air with a gentle mauve that drifted into a pitch black above.

“I feel like I just broke out of jail,” said Mona, catching her breath.

“That’s not an entirely inaccurate description,” said Boris.

Mona took a moment to let her surroundings sink in, to let the fact that she was now breaking the rules in about as severe a manner as possible settle in her mind.

“Well then,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “Where to?”

“I think a little trip out of the city is in order,” said Boris, turning away from Mona and walking.

“Wait, what?” she asked, surprised. It was one thing to slip out of her apartment for a quick bite, but leaving the city seemed just too dangerous.

“Don’t worry,” said Boris over his shoulder. “I’ll have you back before bedtime.”

Mona stepped more quickly to keep up with Boris’s long strides. They proceeded down the length of the street. After a time, Boris stopped.

“What’s up?” asked Mona, wondering why they had stopped.

Boris pointed with his thumb to a motorcycle next to them, an impressive, bulky bike of chrome and dark green.

“Here’s our ride,” he said.

Mona looked over the bike with impressed eyes as Boris hopped on. She stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do, before Boris patted the seat behind him, a smirk on his face as he looked back at her.

She climbed on, wrapped her arm around his firm, hard body, and with a series of powerful, loud revs from the bike, they took off, peeling down the narrow streets of Nolita, the evening air whipping Mona’s hair. They drove through Lower Manhattan, the high rises of the area towering above them, their glittering lights a contrast to the inky sky above. After a time, they reached the Holland Tunnel and drove down into its depths, the orange tracking lights that lined the side of the curved walls a straight blur as they made their way through.

After a time, they exited the tunnel on the Jersey side. Mona held Boris tight, feeling safe as she gripped his body while he weaved the bike through traffic. Once they left the traffic of the city, Boris picked up speed, the engine of the bike emitting a fierce growl. They continued on, driving away from the city and the faraway New York skyline vanished behind the horizon.

She wanted to ask where they were going, where he was taking her. And she still felt slight slivers of fear as she thought about what might happen if Giovanni found out that she was gone. But these worries ebbed and faded as they drove, the buildings around them growing less and less dense.

But just Mona began to really wonder where he was taking her, she spotted a sign on the highway that indicated the turnoff for the Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge was just ahead. As they reached it, Boris pulled off.

Any signs of civilization disappeared as they drove, with great trees topped with canopies of dark green leaves beginning to tower above them as they made their way deeper into the park. Wildlife darted along the length of the road before disappearing back into the trees. Mona couldn’t remember the last time she was so close to nature.

After a time, Boris drove the bike next to a massive tree, parked it, and stepped off, the quiet of the park a stark contrast to the roar of the engine.

“We’re here,” Boris said, looking around at the trees above, his boots landing with soft steps on the grass.

“It’s beautiful,” said Mona. “But what are we going to do?”

Boris’s eyes narrowed, the side of his mouth pulling upwards into a sly grin.

“Run free, of course.”

 

“You can’t mean what I think you mean,” said Mona, fear once again rising up from deep within her.

“It’s exactly what I mean,” said Boris, unbuttoning his shirt.

Once he undid the last button he pulled the shirt off, revealing a sculpted torso of fair, flawless skin and rippling muscles; it was exactly the sort of amazing body that Mona suspected that he had, and for a moment she was unable to speak, distracted by his physical perfection.

“But, I don’t know how,” Mona protested.

Boris stopped disrobing and walked towards Mona, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“You will,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “You’re a shifter, a wolf- changing is part of your nature. The only reason you feel this way about this part of yourself is because you have a brother who denies you the opportunity to be who you are. He keeps you fearful of your shifting, fearful of your power.”

Mona knew that he was right. Even from a young age, Giovanni taught Mona to fear her shifting powers, and never trained her properly to control them, as was his duty as an older sibling. And now, at the age of 21, she was unsure of how to utilize these powers that were so integral to her nature.

“I can show you,” he said. “It’s simply a matter of clearing your mind and letting your animal side rise up. It’s as natural to our kind as breathing or walking. Watch.”

Boris kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants, nothing but a pair of skin-tight, black boxer-briefs remaining on his body, the fabric showing off every bulge of his powerful leg muscles.

“Now you,” he said.

A shot of fear ran through Mona, she didn’t feel ready to shift. She feared losing control, turning into a wild, feral wolf that had forgotten its humanity.

“Trust me,” he said. “You have nothing to fear.”

Mona nodded, letting the calm of Boris’s voice work its way through her, allaying her fears. She pulled her shirt up over her head, the slight chill of the evening air rushing over her body. Then, she stepped out of her shoes, slipped off her socks, and shimmied out of her slim, tight jeans. She stood there in nothing but a mismatched set of bra and panties, her arms clasped over her body.

“I’ll go first,” said Boris. “Then you. Calm your mind, just remember that any thoughts of fear can be safely tossed aside. Shifting is a part of who you are, and you’ll never be at peace until you learn how to control your powers.”

Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, Boris pulled them off. Mona’s eyes shot down to his long, thick manhood which hung heavy between his legs. Then, he closed his eyes, took a deep, full breath, and within seconds he shifted into his animal form: a massive bear, all muscles and brown, shaggy fur. He stepped towards Mona, looking into her eyes with his own, which were the same brilliant gray as those in his human form. They calmed Mona, signaling her that she could make her own transformation.

Reaching behind her, Mona unfastened her bra, her full breasts tumbling free. Then she stepped out of her panties, her womanhood bare aside from a tuft of red hair above her sex. She wanted to cover herself up out of modesty, but realized that she needed to do nothing but focus on her shifting, to clear her mind.

Closing her eyes, she let her arms fall to her sides. Mona attempted to let all thoughts aside from those of shifting out of her mind, focusing on the sound of Boris’s heavy, snorting breath.

Then, she felt it. Her body began to change, hair sprouting from her skin, her limbs thinning, her face elongating. It was as Boris said: no different than making the decision to take a step, or jump into the air. Within seconds, she was in her wolf form. Looking at Boris, he nodded his massive, ferocious head before indicating to follow him once more.

With that, he took off, his enormous, brown body stomping off into the woods with wild abandon. Soon, he vanished into the green of the foliage, the rustling of the leaves the only indication that he had passed.

Mona still didn’t feel completely comfortable in her form, it seemed as though she couldn’t hold it and that she would shift against her will back to being human at any moment. But as she stood alone in the woods, she knew that she had no other option but to run.

So, she did.

With an explosive bound of energy, she propelled herself forward on her four paws, running with immediate and extreme speed, the air rushing passed her as the branches of the foliage whipped against her fur. She ran for minutes, but still hadn’t caught up to Boris, wherever he went.

Stopping, she stuck her nose into the air and brought in a pair of great sniffs. On the air, she caught the scent of the wet leaves and dirt that surrounded her, followed the smell of the various woodland creatures. Then another smell, the smell of fur, skin, and hot, male musk. She knew instantly that this was Boris, and began to run again in the direction of his scent. Mona picked up speed and control as she ran, and with each passing second, she felt more at home in this strange, animal body.

Finally, she reached the sharp incline of a steep hill. The scent continued upwards, and she followed it, moving higher and higher up, each step requiring more strength to stay stable. She could see the crest of the hill above, the endless stretch of the night sky beyond.

Then, she reached the crest, stepping over it. Before her was the highest point of the reserve, a large bluff that faced east, not only overlooking the park but the landscape beyond, the bright half-circle of lights from Manhattan visible in the far distance.

And sitting on the hill cross-legged was Boris, back in his human form. Mona followed his cue, and with a final deep breath, she shifted back, the cool of the air even starker against her furless, unclothed skin.

She stepped with bare feet on the wet grass, approaching Boris and sitting down next to him. They both said nothing for a time, instead looking out at the sweeping landscape ahead of them.

“You live in the city for long enough and you forget that there’s nature that isn’t Central Park,” Mona said.

“I know exactly what you mean,” said Boris, his gaze still fixed ahead. “This is where I come to clear my head.”

“It’s beautiful,” she responded.

“And you shifted,” he said, turning his eyes to hers. “It was impressive; your wolf form is extremely powerful.”

Mona felt herself blush.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Mona said, feeling small under Boris’s steely gaze. “When I was young, I was told there was something unique about my family’s shifting abilities, that they’re more powerful than most.”

“Probably why your brother was able to become the Alpha of the pack at such a young age.”

Mona nodded; this did make sense.

“But he never let me develop my own powers. He always kept me isolated, told me that the politics of the pack weren’t anything I needed to worry about.”

“It sounds like he’s afraid of your power.”

Mona shook her head in disbelief.

“There’s no way that someone like him could be afraid of me- I’m no one.”

To Mona’s surprise, Boris responded by reaching over, grabbing her by the shoulder, and looking deep into her eyes.

“You’re wrong,” he said, his voice grave. “You just haven’t learned yet how powerful you are, and how powerful you can be.”

Mona said nothing, her mind focused on Boris’s hand on her bare shoulder, a feeling of heat radiating from where he touched her. She could hardly focus on his words.

“It’s not true,” she said, turning her eyes away, partially out of disbelief of his words, and partially out of the difficulty she was having looking directly into his deep gaze.

But he wouldn’t let her turn away. Taking her chin with the crook of his finger, he turned her face back towards his.

She could tell that he wanted to speak, to say something to restore her sense of confidence, but as she looked into his eyes, she sensed a different feeling- a more heated, sensual one.

Before she could react, however, Boris moved forward while tilting her face towards his as he pressed his lips upon hers.

The kiss was slow, even chaste at first, but it quickly increased in intensity as Boris pulled Mona towards him, pressing her nude body against his, her legs cool and wet from the dewy grass upon which she sat. His kiss surprised her. She hoped that Boris wanted her, and she desired him more than she could ever remember desiring a man, but she didn’t dare think that he would want her, let alone with the intensity that he was showing towards her now.

Boris reached around Mona, wrapping his strong, muscular arm around her slim, cool shoulders, wrapping her in him, his lips parting as he kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth. But as he kissed her, a hot streak of fearful awareness ran through her- she was now not only out against her brother’s wishes, but she was associating with a member of another clan in a way that would surely push her passed the point of no return with Giovanni’s wrath.

“We can’t,” she said as he kissed her neck, the sensation of his lips on her soft skin sending electricity through her body.

“Yes, we can,” he said through a hot breath.

“But what if,” she said.

“That doesn’t matter,” said Boris.

And that was all she needed to hear. She pushed these feelings out of her mind, ready to be done with Giovanni and his controlling nature. Mona let herself be taken by Boris, now feeling no other urge than to surrender to this strange, beautiful man.

His hands moved down along her hips, feeling every inch of her soft, supple curves as he kissed her. Mona heard his breath deepen, as though she were being filled with a desire for her that increased by the moment, building to an incredible intensity.

Boris’s hand continued along Mona’s body, moving from the outer sides of her thighs to between them, her legs parting to accommodate him. He continued to kiss her, his hand moving closer and closer to her until his hand rested upon her sex.

“You’re so wet,” he said, his voice a purr.

And she was; she was wetter than she thought, as though her body were begging for what her mind had been trying to talk her out of.

Boris moved his other hand down to the small curve of Mona’s lower back, letting her body fall softly backwards onto the wet grass, the sensation of the dew on her skin sending a chill up through her body. But she knew that she would be very warm, very soon. Boris rolled on top of her, positioning himself between her legs. Mona looked down along the chiseled angles of his body, her eyes resting on his huge, thick cock, hard and long. It was easily the largest cock she’d ever seen in person, and she wondered if she would be able to fit the entire massive member into her small body.

But she was eager to find out.

His frame outlined by the star-filled sky above him, Boris looked down at Mona with an expression of deviousness, as though taking exquisite pleasure indulging in what was forbidden. And Mona couldn’t lie to herself: The off-limits nature of what they were about to take part in only made her want it more, and as she stared down at Boris’s cock, the only desire in her mind was to have it inside of her as quickly as possible.

And he complied. Lowering his body, his muscles flexing as he descended upon her, Boris took his thick cock by the base and pressed the head against the lips of her pussy. Feeling him against her only made her want him even more.

“Please, put it in me,” she said, the words escaping her lips without any conscious effort on her part.

He didn’t tease her for much longer. His hand on his cock, Boris lowered himself the rest of the distance down, his prick sliding into her, filling her completely to the hilt.

She gasped as his cock entered her inch by inch, the feeling of heat and pleasure increasing more and more the deeper he moved into her. Now completely penetrated, Mona wrapped her arms around Boris’s hard, strong back, widening her legs, imploring him to continue.

Boris’s pace was slow at first, plunging in and out of her at a rhythm that allowed her small body to accustom to his cock. Mona gasped as he moved, feeling herself grow wetter and wetter by the moment. He soon picked up his speed, moving at a faster and faster pace, plunging in and out of Mona over and over, the sound of his hips connecting with hers filling the still air around them.

Mona could already feel the first blossoms of orgasm stir within her as Boris pounded her harder and harder, his grunts mixing with her moans. She moved her hands up and down his body hungrily, feeling every inch of his muscles from the wide span of his shoulders to the hard notches of his hip bones below his sculpted abs, finally settling her hands on the firm, round cheeks of his ass. Boris responded in kind, holding himself up with one arm as he moved the other along her curves, paying special attention to her ripe, full breasts and small pink nipples. He licked and sucked, lashing with his tongue as he did so, the feeling of sensual pleasure from his expert stimulating of her most sensitive, erogenous areas.

“That feel good?” he said as he pounded her, squeezing the soft flesh of her ass with his free hand.

“So fucking good,” she responded through her heavy panting.

Her orgasm moved closer and closer, the white hot feeling of pleasure enveloping her entire body, the tips and her fingers and toes feeling almost numb from the pleasure. No other feeling in the world existed for her beyond the sensation of Boris’s cock inside of her, pounding her hard, her body shifting with each full, deep thrust, the steady rhythm luring her into a trance-like state.

Boris looked into her eyes with that same manly glare, as though demanding that she cum for him. And she soon obliged. With a thundering crescendo, Mona’s orgasm arrived, sending pounding waves of pleasure through her body. Her legs pulled in close to her body and her face tightened into a wince as the orgasm moved through her, filling her with a pleasure that she had never before experienced.

Then, Boris came, his own orgasm thundering like a boulder. Mona felt him spray his cum into her, emptying himself completely, filling her with him as he made his final pumps. Mona’s grip loosened on Boris, her limbs settling on the grass, her body exhausted. Boris slid out of her, his seed spilling down her inner thigh as he withdrew. With a heave of his muscles, he rolled off of her and onto the grass to her side. They both lay there for a time, regaining their breath as they looked up into the canopy of twinkling stars above.

“Looks like shifting isn’t the only thing you’re good at,” said Mona rolling onto her side and looking over Boris’s glistening, muscular body.

“I like to think so,” he said, a cocky tone to his voice and a smirk on his mouth.

More moments passed.

“You’re worried,” said Boris.

“Yeah, I guess I am. Everything just feels so crazy. Not just with me, but with the tensions between the clans.”

“Things are worse than I’ve ever seen them,” said Boris. “We’ve come close to war before, but never this close.”

“And last night there were a couple of Senegalese at my apartment.”

Boris’s eyes widened.

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “Senegalese at a drug party? That’s…unlike them.”

Mona nodded. She knew how strange it was to see Senegalese outside of Petite Senegal in Harlem. They tended to only venture into the territories of the other clans when they had a specific purpose. And they weren’t much for illicit drugs, instead preferring the strange, intoxicating potions that they prepared themselves.

“These are odd times,” he continued.

“And it’s all my brother’s fault,” said Mona. “He’s the one who forced the pack into selling drugs, he’s the one who’s bringing us to the brink of war.

Boris said nothing, his thoughts now rife with images of Melanie, the woman stolen from him by Giovanni.

“I just don’t know what to do,” said Mona. “I can’t live like this any longer.”

Boris felt his jaw tighten as the reality of his plan became clear to him. His intentions with Mona were simple, at first: use her to get to Giovanni. But now that he was here with her, that he was seeing that her power was more than he was anticipating, not to mention feeling a strong, real attraction towards her, things were beginning to become less certain.

Not to mention the way his heart stirred as he looked upon her beautiful nude body, bathed in moonlight.

But he wasn’t sure at all how to proceed. Boris was becoming increasingly aware that this was bigger than his simple revenge. A war was coming- that much was certain. Giovanni’s power grew by the day, propped up by his relationship with the top New York drug kingpins, one of which he was rapidly becoming. If left unchecked, Giovanni might soon possess enough power to conquer the Ukrainians, then the Senegalese, killing them all, or enslaving them to do his dirty work in the drug world.

His own personal designs aside, Boris knew that Giovanni had to go.

And Mona was a complication. Her power was surprising, there was a chance she could be one of the strongest shifters in generations. Boris suspected that Giovanni was acutely aware of his sister’s strength. Why else would he keep her under his thumb the way he had been? All it would take is a year or two of training for her to develop her powers enough to easily best him; keeping Mona in the dark about what she was capable of was one way to avoid having to concern himself with what she could do. Especially if she began to have designs of her own for the position of pack Alpha…

Boris had been wrapped up in his own thoughts for what seemed like just a few moments, but it had been longer than that. He called Mona’s name, but when he heard no response, he saw that she had fallen asleep, her nude breasts rising and falling with each soft, sleeping breath. Lying on his back and interweaving his hands behind his head, Boris looked up at the evening sky. He felt his eyelids grow heavy and sleepy, and the last thoughts that crossed his mind as he drifted off into sleep were that he very well could have bitten off far, far more than he would be able to chew.

 

Giovanni Allegra sat back, looking over the mouth of his beer bottle at the small crowd in his living room. The members of his pack were carousing, as usual, most of them high on the portion of this week’s shipment that he let them indulge in. Though, he knew it wasn’t really up to them, they all knew that any member of the pack that showed the slightest bit of apprehension when it came to the drug dealing lifestyle would be dealt with harshly.

The music was blaring, and the dealers and their women were already some combination of drunk and high, which is what Giovanni wanted. He knew that anything that addled their minds, and thus their business sense, would only work to his advantage.

“Yo, Gio!” one of them called out, a long-haired man in the same gruff, Staten Island accent as the rest of the men. “You want another hit of this shit?”

“Nah, I’m good,” said Giovanni, shaking his head and curling his lip. He knew he’d taken enough.

The man shrugged his shoulders before pulling out a baggie of white powder and carefully tilted it over the now-streaked mirror that was in the center of the living room coffee table. The other dealers and the girls gathered around it, greedy looks across their faces. The ten or so members of the pack that were there- the higher-ups that Giovanni had working as pushers for the rest- looked at him with apprehension, as though waiting for his cue. Giovanni nodded, and they all began moving towards the drugs with varying looks of enthusiasm on their faces.

The dealers lined about a few dozen neat white rows, and the party goers all took turns taking their sniffs. The energy of the dealers shot up immediately.

“You gotta get in on this shit, Gio!” said one of the dealers. “Fuckin’ quality shit!”

“I said I’m good,” said Gio, his voice now stern.

Now that the guests were high on their fresh dose, the intensity of the party only increased. Beers were chugged, the bottles tossed here and there, some breaking, with their dark, jagged shards sinking into the carpet, to be pressed and broken in further by the heavy work boots the pack all preferred. Giovanni didn’t like it when they trashed the place, but he knew that letting the dealers and the pack blow off steam at these deals helped keep things running smoothly. And the last thing he wanted to deal with was a power struggle. He knew that as long as he kept Mona locked up good and tight, he probably wouldn’t have to worry about that.

He smirked as he drank his beer, looking over the mess, knowing that Mona would have quite the day of cleaning ahead of her for tomorrow. And as he sipped his drink, his eyes traveled to one of the women in attendance, a brunette with green eyes and a slim body who met his gaze with a sultry look and a seductive smirk. The girls who hung around these dealers were exactly the types who went for those with power and money, and as someone with both, Giovanni knew he had his choice of women. But he decided to relax and enjoy little more of the party before sending her up to his room.

A loud crash from within the packed crowd of party goers signaled to him that the relaxing he wanted wasn’t going to happen.

“You fuckin’ asshole!” shouted a voice that Giovanni instantly recognized as belonging to Carlo, one of his lieutenants.

“Get your fuckin’ hand off of me!” responded another voice, which Giovanni didn’t recognize, and therefore assumed was one of the dealers.

Giovanni couldn’t make out what was happening, but knew that it likely was another fight over drugs, money, or women, just like every other spat that broke out between the dealers and the pack. He finished his beer, tossed the bottle into the corner, and shot up from his chair. Once he reached the crowd, he pushed his way through, the bodies moving aside when they realized who was trying to get by.

And once he broke through to the fight, he saw a dealer about to square off with Antonio, another high-up in the pack. Standing to the side was Kendra, Antonio’s girl, with a fearful look on her face and her arms crossed under her breasts.

“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” demanded Giovanni, pushing the rest of the dealers and pack members out of his way.

“This motherfucker’s trying to take my girl!” said Antonio, his handsome face red and twisted in anger. He looked like he was on the verge of indulging in some serious violence.

“Your girl? Buddy, she’s been givin’ me the ‘fuck me’ eyes all night!” said the dealer, who Giovanni recognized as Joey, the second-in-command to this Staten Island gang.

Giovanni knew that this might get bad. If Antonio said or did one wrong move, he might jeopardize Giovanni’s relationship with these dealers. And if he did that, Giovanni could kiss a hell of a lot of hard cash goodbye.

“Alright, everyone just calm the fuck down,” said Gio, yelling over the music. “Antonio, what’s your take here?”

“You know what it is? It’s these fuckin’ dealers. They think just ‘cause they’re selling us this fuckin’ product we gotta push, that we have to do whatever they want!”

The dealer snorted, his burly arms cross over his wide chest.

“What, that’s not true?” the dealer said, his tone dismissive.

This only made Antonio redder.

“And you know what? You’re not fuckin’ helpin’, Gio,” said Antonio. “You’re the one that got us in with all these assholes!”

Giovanni was fine with the argument; he figured he’d talk both of the men down, maybe let them take a swing at one another to get their energy out. But by bringing Giovanni’s leadership into question, Antonio was dangerously close to crossing a line.

“What was that?” asked Giovanni, stepping into the circle of cleared space amidst the crowd, closing the distance between him and Antonio. “I want to make sure I heard you right.”

A look of consternation crossed Antonio’s face for a brief moment, as though he were now aware of exactly what he was doing. But his expression hardened.

“I said, you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing with our pack.”

A small smirk crossed Giovanni’s face. This was a challenge and both men knew it. The circle around them spread out to give the two men room to settle their dispute. Giovanni rolled his shoulders, it had been a while since his last fight. With a beckoning motion of his fingers, he summoned a pack member to bring him a large line of coke, which he snorted eagerly off of the hand mirror that it was sitting on. The rush hit him immediately.

With a roar, he shifted into his massive wolf form, dwarfing Antonio’s form. The two wolves rushed at each other, clawing at one another’s skin with frenzied swipes of their huge paws, each attempting to bite down on the other’s neck. The crowd spread further apart as the two wolves crashed into the furniture, sending paintings crashing down from the walls and beer bottles careening off, smashing them into pieces.

Giovanni was eventually able to overpower Antonio, sinking his razor-sharp teeth into the soft skin of his neck. Then, with a quick jerk of his head, he snapped Antonio’s neck, the dull crack reverberating through Giovanni’s body. He let the now-limp body of Antonio drop from his jaw, the corpse hitting the ground with a dull thud. The group around him was silent, the blaring music the only sound in the air.

Shifting back to his human form, now nude, Giovanni looked around at the pack.

“Think about what just happened. While you’re dragging this fucker’s body out of here, know what’s in store if you challenge me as the Alpha.”

He shot his eyes back to the dealer.

“Take her, she’s yours now,” he said, referring to Antonio’s girl.

The dealer smiled with a wicked grin, grabbing the girl’s arm. She didn’t react, seemingly too stunned by Antonio’s death to say or do anything.

“Clean this mess up,” said Giovanni, waving to Antonio’s body, still in wolf form. “And get back to whatever the hell else you were doing.”

The living room air was cool on Giovanni’s now nude body. The party eventually took on its previous tone, and two of the pack members lifted Antonio’s body out of the room for later disposal. Snatching his beer from where he left it, Giovanni looked over once again at the girl who was eying him before. She looked even more intrigued, seemingly impressed by Giovanni’s display of power. With a quick nod of his head, he gestured for her to follow him upstairs. And as he walked up the stairs, the music growing softer and he could hear the pattering of her small feet catching up to him.

Without looking back, Giovanni stepped into his room.

“Shut the door,” he said.

The girl complied.

“That was so amazing, what you did back there,” she said, her voice full of admiration. “I can’t believe th-“

“I didn’t bring you up here for conversation,” he said, turning on a low light. “Now take off your clothes.”

Giovanni sat down on the edge of his unmade bed, the girl standing before him. She started by pulling her shirt over her head, her chocolate-colored hair falling on her bare, pale shoulders. Next, she unbuttoned her pants, kicking off her red sneakers as she stepped out of them.

“Stop,” said Giovanni, admiring her the girl’s toned, shapely body, clad in nothing but a black bra and skimpy pair of matching panties.

Giovanni rose, his cock now fully erect. He stepped towards the girl, stopping when only a small distance remained between them. Her eyes were wide, with a touch of fearful awe, as though she were both frightened and aroused by Giovanni. It was a look he had seen many times before.

“Get on your knees.”

She complied, ducking down out of his sight

He looked down, seeing that she was looking up at him, as though awaiting orders, his hard prick next to her face.

“You know what to do.”

She nodded, a sly smirk crossing her face. Giovanni tilted his head back as the girl went to work, starting by licking the base of his cock with quick darts of her tongue, her right hand wrapped around his shaft. Her licks turned into slow, wet kisses as she moved her lips up along the length of Giovanni’s prick. The air was silent and still, no sound but the soft bass of the music from downstairs and the licking and kissing sounds of the girl’s lips on him.

She then took his prick into her mouth, guided by his hand on the back of her neck, pushing her down until the entire length of him was inside of her mouth. She slid her mouth backwards, letting his prick glide against her lips as she withdrew it before taking the entirely of it in her mouth once again. Giovanni was impressed- most girls weren’t able to handle his cock.

Her slow, full-length sucks transitioned into quick bobs, focusing on his head, her lips forming a tight seal just below it that she moved faster and faster along him, her hand stroking him as she sucked. Giovanni felt his orgasm build in the base of his cock, and he debated whether or not he wanted to fuck this girl, or to simply cum in her mouth and be done with it.

After some internal deliberation, he decided. He grabbed a handful of the girl’s dark, brown hair and brought her to her feet with a quick pull. She gasped at the slight pain, though the smile on her face indicated to Giovanni that she enjoyed the way he was treating her.

“Get the rest,” he said.

The naughty smirk still playing on her face, the girl reached behind her back, undoing her bra and letting it drop to her feet, revealing her small, pert breasts. She then stepped out of her panties, and Giovanni smiled approvingly as he saw that she was shaved bare.

He reached for her, grabbing her slim wrist and pulling her towards him. Looming over her for a moment, he reached behind her, grabbing her ass with firm squeezes. She gasped with pleasure as he squeezed her, his strong grip just on the brink of pain and pleasure.

“Now get on the bed,” he said, letting go of her ass, his voice commanding.

Again, she obliged. With a slow, hip-swiveling walk, she moved to the bed, preparing to lie down on top of it.

“No. Turn around.”

With another sensual smile, she turned around and leaned forward, resting her hands on the bed and jutting her small, round ass into the air. Giovanni took his place behind her, looking down at the sight of her supple rear in the air, his cock hard and stiff just in front of it. He grabbed her by the hips, holding her in place. Then, with a hard thrust, he entered her, the girl gasping as he shoved his prick deep inside of her, fully plunging the length of him inside of her pussy.

Giovanni took a deep breath at the feeling of his cock sliding into her, the girl moaning as he held himself inside of her. He then began thrusting. At first, he was slow and steady, letting the pleasure being inside of her build. Then, he picked up the pace of his thrusting. The girl grabbed the sheets in front of her, holding herself in place against the now-relentless pounding of Giovanni. He fucked her hard, slapping her ass and taking pleasure at the red handprints left on her fair skin. And she did too, gasping with ecstasy with each contact of his firm hand against her ass.

Giovanni felt his orgasm come rushing back. He was aroused beyond belief at the sight of the girl’s ass jiggling with each thrust of his hips. The pace of the girl’s moaning and panting increased, bringing Giovanni closer and closer to orgasm.

Then, with a long, protracted grunt, Giovanni came, unloading his cock deep inside of her, pleasure rushing through him as he emptied himself completely. He gave the girl’s ass one last hard slap as he finished. Pulling his cock out, he smiled with satisfaction at the sheen of her arousal on his prick, as well as the sight of his cum dripping from her.

Spent, he lay down on the bed, catching his breath. The girl collapsed next to him, her breasts rising and falling.

There was a silence that hung in the hot, sex-scented air before being broken.

“So, you gonna be ready for round two?”

“Nah. Go get your things and get out of here.”

“What?” asked the girl, surprised.

“I don’t need any company tonight.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Do I sound like I’m joking?” he said, lighting a cigarette while lying on his back, blowing a plume of smoke into the air.

The girl realized he wasn’t joking and, in a huff, bounded from the bed, snatched her clothes off the floor, and stomped towards the door.

“You’re a real fuckin’ asshole, you know that?” she said, pulling the door open.

“Yeah, yeah.”

With that, she left in an angry march, leaving Giovanni alone in silence.

Sitting up, he noticed the door wasn’t shut. With a frustrated sigh, he heaved himself from his bed, his cigarette dangling from his mouth as he pulled on a pair of jeans that were lying on the ground. But as he reached to shut the door, he noticed that not a shred of light was visible from the top floor. This struck him as strange- Mona usually had at least one light on. He went up the stairs, approached Mona’s door and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again.

“Mona, open this fuckin’ door right now!” he yelled.

Again, no answer.

He twisted the knob, noting that it was locked. With another turn, he broke through the lock, and opened the door.

Giovanni gritted his teeth in anger he realized that Mona had left. Against his command, she left. And he knew that she was with the bear from the other night.

His anger began to boil over, but before he could fly into a rage, he caught himself. A smirk slowly crossed his face, his mind alight with the possibilities of punishment for this particular misdeed.  The possibilities, he thought, were endless.

 

Boris slid the motorcycle to a stop on the corner of the Nolita street where Mona lived. It was well into the early hours of the morning, with the sun due to rise within the next few hours.

“You sure you’re ready to go back?” asked Boris, looking over his shoulder at Mona.

“I don’t want to, but yeah. I don’t even want to think about what would happen if Giovanni caught me out.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t seem like the reasonable type.”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it. It’s…” she trailed off, not sure if she should finish her thought, for fear of potentially saying too much.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing.”

A moment passed. Mona loosened her grip from around Boris and stepped off of the motorcycle.

“So,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Will I see you again soon?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he said with a smirk.

With that, he revved the engine, peeling off into the night.

Boris knew that not giving straight answers was a key step in getting a girl to fall for a guy. He turned his bike, pulling a sharp turn around a corner and driving away from Lower Manhattan.

The more he thought about the evening, the more he realized how differently it went than he was expecting. He knew that he was attracted to Mona and that sleeping with her was an added bonus to his plan of revenge, but as he drove, he felt a strange fluttering inside of him when he thought of her, a feeling that he knew wasn’t simply physical attraction. He shook his head, the wind rushing through his hair, trying to get a handle on the plan as he had originally conceived it.

It was a simple plan, after all: seduce Mona, give her reason to question her loyalty to Giovanni and the rest of the pack, then use her to get to her brother.

But he wasn’t expecting her to have so much power.

Seeing how fast she was able to adapt to her shifter nature after being denied it for so long by her brother, especially with how unstable her powers were after nearly losing control the first night they met, Boris was beginning to realize that he wasn’t just dealing with any shifter. She was one who had the potential to change the face of the balance of power in the city.

Boris took a hard, banking turn, the skyline of Brooklyn and Queens to his right still illuminated with their evening lights.

He had a responsibility to Melanie to get revenge; this was clear in his mind. But he also had a responsibility to his pack, to keep them strong and safe. He knew he wasn’t the Alpha- not yet, anyway- and thus wasn’t the one to make the call when it came to relationships between the packs. But with war brewing the way it had been, all because of Giovanni’s drug-dealing and power-grabbing, he knew that he was dealing with a situation that could affect the future of not just the bears, but all three tribes in the city. As he drove into the East Village, his familiar neighborhood, Boris found himself wondering what might happen if he were to help Mona take her place as Alpha of the wolves. He wondered if war could be averted while his plan was achieved at the same time.

Boris pulled his bike in front of his apartment, killed the engine, and walked up to the front door of his townhome. But as he reached to open it, he saw that it was slightly ajar. His adrenaline began to flare, and he stepped into his home with careful, silent steps, his senses keen for any possibility of danger.

But as he stepped into the darkness of his living room, he saw the silhouette of a figure sitting in his armchair, flanked by two men at his side. His heart skipped a beat, and he prepared himself to shift.

“It’s me, Boris,” said the voice, deep, commanding, and familiar. “Calm yourself.”

Boris hit the light, the open expanse of the living room illuminating. It was just as he thought: the man in the chair was Dima, the Alpha of the bears, and at his flanks were Gregory and Peter, the men he considered to be his right and left hands.

Dima looked upon Boris with his heavy, piercing green eyes which sat surrounded by the soft wrinkles of middle-age. His wide, full lips drooped at the corners as they normally did, which gave Dima’s face a default expression of disappointment. His hair was long, silver, and thick, tied back behind his head in a short ponytail. As always, he was dressed in an expensive double-breasted suit of pinstripes and a gleaming, golden pocket watch, the chain of which hung in a low sag.

“Have a sit, young Boris,” Dima said, gesturing to the seat across from him with his open palm.

Boris complied. He felt ill at ease, unsure of why the Alpha was meeting him in such a fashion.

“To what do I owe this honor?” asked Boris, his tone respectful.

“Please,” said Dima. “The questions will be all mine during this little meeting.”

Then, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, he looked at Boris with an expression of scheming.

“Let’s discuss your date.”

 

Mona had a lightness to her step that she couldn’t remember ever feeling as she approached her home. She wasn’t looking forward to the mess in the living room, but she knew that she could at least enjoy the feeling of joy that filled her heart after her date with Boris.

She approached the front door, looking into the window, seeing the mess of the evening’s events, her heart sinking. It was a disaster in there, as usual. But as she looked closer, she saw that the mess didn’t simply seem to be the usual chaos of broken beer bottles and passed-out junkies- though there was plenty of that- it seemed to look more disordered inside, as though the living room had been a scene of violence. Mona felt her blood run cold as she positioned herself below the fire escape.

She knew something wasn’t right; she could feel it in her bones. Focusing on the ladder of the fire escape several feet above her, Mona jumped, wrapping her hands around the thin, cold iron of the lower rung, and pulled herself up. She made her way up the few flights of stairs to her bedroom window where Boris met her, soft clangs of her feet upon the fire escape sounding with each step.

And as she approached her window, the suspicion that something wasn’t right was confirmed by the sight of Giovanni sitting on her bed, staring out of the window with an expression of tight anger.

She wanted to run, to flee, to avoid the punishment that she knew awaited her. But before she could react beyond seeing that he was there, Giovanni rushed towards the window, pulled it open, and grabbed Mona by her thin wrist.

“Get in here, now,” he said, his voice full of barely constrained rage, pulling her into her room.

“Let me go!” said Mona, struggling against his grasp.

“You little bitch,” he said, his breath hot on her face. “I tell you to stay in your goddamn room, and what do you do? You sneak off with that fucking bear!”

He threw her onto the bed, her red hair falling onto her face.

“No loyalty to the clan! No respect for what I say!” he said, slamming his fist against the wall, small cracks shooting out from where he struck it.

Gripped with fear, Mona said nothing.

“I’m not just your fuckin’ brother, you know- I’m the Alpha of this clan! And when you repeatedly throw what I tell you to do right back in my face, well, what am I supposed to do about that, huh?”

“Yeah, you’re the Alpha, the leader,” said Mona, strength returning to her voice. “And you’re gonna lead us right into extinction! Making the clan sell drugs, pallin’ up with these fucking lowlifes. What would Mom and Dad say about this shit?”

His face turned a deep shade of red. Giovanni flew towards Mona with incredible speed, grabbing her by the neck and lifting her from the bed.

“Don’t you ever talk about them like that!” he yelled.

Giovanni’s hand dug into Mona’s neck, and for a moment she felt helpless as she struggled to breathe. But remembering the power she was able to tap into earlier in the night, she grabbed onto Giovanni’s thick wrist, freed herself from his grasp, and ran towards the window.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” yelled Giovanni. “Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’?”

“Away from you, you psycho! You might ruin this clan with your drug-dealing bullshit, but you’re not bringing me down with you!” she said, before ducking back out onto the fire escape.

“Get back here right now!” he said, rushing towards her.

But before Giovanni could reach her, Mona sprinted up the fire escape onto the roof. Looking down, she saw that Giovanni's head was sticking out of the window, his face still twisted with anger.

“Get back here right now!” he said, climbing out of the window.

But Mona didn’t respond. Instead, she looked across at the building on the other side of the street. She knew that Giovanni would soon come to get her, but if she was able to make a quick escape, it was possible that she could lose him.

“Get back here right fuckin’ now!” said Giovanni, his voice closer.

With a deep breath, Mona stepped back from the ledge, giving herself ample running distance. Hearing Giovanni’s boots clanging on the fire escape as he made his way up, Mona attempted to focus her thoughts, letting the power she now knew she had run through her, strengthening her. Then, with one final breath, she broke into a hard sprint towards the edge of the building.

“Don’t you dare!” said Giovanni, now almost onto the roof.

But it was too late. Mona focused her power, instilling her legs with wolf strength. Then, she leaped. She looked down as she jumped, seeing Giovanni watch her as she flew through the air with incredible speed and strength. The street below passed under her, and the ledge of the other roof grew closer by the second.

After several seconds in the air, Mona reached the other side, grabbing onto the rough concrete of the ledge as she landed. With a grunt, she pulled herself up and onto the roof. Once settled, she looked over to the other roof, where Giovanni stood, his chest puffed out, that same expression of anger on his face that Mona could make out even from across the street.

“Get your fuckin’ ass back here!” Giovanni shouted, his voice carrying across the street, attracting the attention of the few pedestrians below.

But Mona said nothing, instead turning her back to him and breaking out into a run. She ran faster than she thought possible, moving from rooftop to rooftop, nothing but escape from Giovanni on her mind. She left Nolita, moving deeper into Manhattan, leaping from building to building, drawing upon a reserve of strength that she never knew she had. But she knew now.

After a time, she stopped and looked behind her for any sign of Giovanni. But there wasn’t one. She knew that there was no way he could’ve caught up with how fast she was moving. But now that she was safe, the matter of where to go, exactly, settled into her mind. But nowhere came to mind. She had been reliant on her clan for her whole life, and what she had done now was the first decision she had made without considering the clan as a whole. As the Alpha, the rest of the pack would be obliged to do whatever he said, and hiding the sister of the Alpha would be unthinkable.

She was alone. He had no phone, no money, nothing but the clothes on her back.

The only person she could think to turn to was Boris, the man she had just met. But she had no other options. The sun was beginning to rise and she knew that Giovanni would be dispatching members of the pack to find her. She needed to get hidden, and fast.

Mona knew that the bears lived in the East Village, which wasn’t too far from where she was- only a couple of neighborhoods over. With no plan in mind other than to find Boris, she began her trek, continuing over the roofs of the tightly-packed buildings of Lower Manhattan. After a time, she reached the East Village, and finding a fire escape that led to the street level, she climbed down and reached the street, the early morning crowds making the narrow streets already dense.

She wandered from street to street, not sure how she was planning on finding Boris. But after a time, a familiar voice called out to her from the crowd.

“Hey, wolf girl.”

Mona turned, and to her shock, it was Boris. He stood on the sidewalk, his clothes fresh, his skin clear and clean, as though he had taken a restful night’s sleep. Without thinking, Mona rushed into his arms, and he responded by wrapping them around her in a consoling fashion.

“What’s the matter?” he asked in a comforting voice, feeling Mona gently sob into his shirt.

“It’s Giovanni,” she said.

“Say no more,” said Boris, taking Mona by the hand and leading her through the tightly packed knots of pedestrians.

They walked quickly for a time, eventually reaching an expensive-looking townhome.

“Right here,” said Boris.

He opened the door and led her in. She was amazed at the home, which was tastefully appointed and perfectly clean, both a stark contrast to her own home which was becoming nothing more like a squalid drug den by the day. Two men were seated in the living room, both muscular and handsome, with the same Slavic features as Boris, though not quite as striking as him. Both men stood up as Boris and Mona entered.

“Ah, this is the wolf girl?” said the first man.

“About as pretty as we were led to believe,” said the other, a playful smirk on his face.

“Wait a minute,” said Mona, now recognizing the men. “You’re both with Boris in Blood and Claw, right? We met at the show.”

“That would be us,” said the first man.

“That’s Ivan and that’s Aran,” said Boris, pointing to the long-haired man and the short-haired one.

“But how to you know about me?”

“I told them about our, ah, date,” said Boris, speaking quickly.

“Only good things,” said Ivan.

“Ah, I hope so.”

But something about their quick responses struck Mona as strange. It was as though their answers were careful, rehearsed, even.

“You all live here?” asked Mona.

“No, no, girlie,” said Ivan. “Well, we practice here, so in a sense we do.”

“We’re just here to make sure that you get settled in,” said Aran

“But wait,” said Mona, raising a finger. “How did you know that I was going to be here?”

Mona could’ve sworn that Boris shot Aran a glare, but she couldn’t be sure.

“I, ah, had a fear that your brother might find out about your evening with me. And I wanted to be prepared in the event that you had nowhere to go.”

“Oh,” said Mona. “Thanks, then. But aren’t you worried about him finding out that you have me here? That might mean war.”

Boris nodded.

“It’s possible, but war is already more or less a certainty. We are so close to fighting with the wolves that getting the conflict out in the open almost seems preferable to the tension that exists now.”

“But what about the tigers?” asked Mona. “Don’t they have any stake in this?”

“Who the hell knows what they want?” asked Aran. “They’re all the way up in Harlem. They can afford to avoid anything that happens below Central Park.”

“That’s what they think,” said Boris. “But if your brother and the wolves can beat us in open conflict, it’s only a matter of time before they turn their attention to the rest of the island.”

“Right,” said Ivan. “And all the voodoo charms and potions and whatever else they have up there won’t save them from a pack of wolves with half the drug money in the city.”

“Pretty sure they don’t do voodoo in Africa,” said Aran.

“Whatever,” said Ivan. “It’s all the same witchcraft bullshit to me.”

“I’d be careful talking about that witchcraft nonsense,” said Boris. “There’s a reason why the Senegalese have been able to keep everything north of Central Park under their thumb for the last century and a half.”

“Maybe,” said Ivan. “Those freaks just creep me out, is all.”

Boris turned his attention back to Mona.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here, of course,” he said. “Until this whole thing blows over.”

Mona felt relieved, but unsure of what to do. She wanted to stay there, but she didn’t want to simply be a bystander if the two sides did come to blows. As she considered this, Boris approached her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes.

“Don’t think you need to make any decisions now. You’ve been through a lot. Go upstairs, get some rest, and we can talk about this later.”

“OK, I will,” said Mona.

She was too tired to continue talking, and happy that Boris sent her off to sleep. She went upstairs and found an open door that led into a spare bedroom. Mona walked up to the bed and collapsed instantly, falling into a deep sleep. 

 

Mona looked out over the span of Manhattan from where she stood at the top of the World Trade Tower. The view was incredible; the length of the island was stretched out before her, the grids of the buildings were seemingly without end. Not a sound could be heard other than the soft blowing of the wind, cool on her skin. She looked down from the top of the spire and noted that there wasn’t a single person to be seen on the streets below- not a car, not a bike, not a plane in the sky. It was as though the city had been abandoned.

“No one’s there,” said a voice behind her.

She turned, surprised, and saw that it was Boris. He was dressed in casual clothes: a pair of torn black jeans, a white V-neck shirt that fit tight on his pecs, and a pair of heavy black boots.

“Where is everyone?” asked Mona, turning back towards the abandoned city.

Boris walked until he was standing next to her, then shrugged.

“Who can say? They were all here, then they were gone.”

There was a moment of silence, no sound but the low howl of the wind.

“They were waiting for you,” said Boris.

Mona felt shocked, almost offended.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean just that. They were waiting for you, but now they’re gone.”

A strange feeling gripped Mona- it was the feeling that Boris wasn’t letting on all that he knew.

“Tell me what you know!” said Mona, turning to Boris.

“I’ve told you all I can,” said Boris, a sly smile on his handsome face. “Well, not quite everything.”

Then his gaze drifted down to Mona’s belly.

Mona reached for him with eager hands, but as soon as her fingers touched him, he disappeared in a swirling vapor.

“He’s not what you think,” said another voice from behind her. It was Giovanni.

Mona turned once again, and looked upon her brother who stood on the top of the tower with her, the glittering, sapphire curves of the Hudson River behind him.

Mona opened her mouth, but no words came; it was as though she had been struck mute by the mere presence of her brother.

“You may think you know who he is, but he’ll never be me. He’ll never be kin.”

Giovanni then opened his arms to Mona and as she began walking towards him, she was unable to control her body. Closing his eyes, a smile formed on his lips as Mona walked towards him. And when she stepped close enough to him to be within arm’s reach, he embraced her, turning her body towards the city as he did.

“It’s empty because you haven’t told it not to be. We haven’t told it not to be.”

She felt safe at first in his arms, in the protective embrace of her brother. But as she stood with her body pressed to his, a sinister feeling began to overwhelm her. And when she looked up, she saw that the sky above had turned to deep, boiling red, and her brother’s face was twisted into the horrible visage of a demon. She wanted to scream, but no sound emerged from her throat.

When she awoke, she was covered in a cold, startling sweat. A quick scream escaped her lips before she slapped her hands over her mouth, muffling her cry. But a pair of footsteps rushing up from the first floor made it clear to her that she had been heard. The footsteps drew closer to the shut bedroom door then stopped. Then the door opened, revealing Boris, his body cast in shadow.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said Mona, not sure how much she should speak of the dream. “I mean, it’s just…”

Boris walked over to her as her voice trailed off, taking a seat next to her on the bed.

“Bad dream,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Not surprising- you’re going through a lot.”

“I know. I know that running from Giovanni was the right call, but I can’t help but feel like I’m abandoning my family.”

“Right,” he said. “And family isn’t exactly easy to come by in our world.”

Mona nodded, thinking back to her own parents and how they were taken from her at such a young age.

“Do you have any family?” she asked.

“None that I can remember. The pack’s been my family since I was a child. Our people tend to go so quickly and violently that it’s hard to maintain true family ties.”

“Yes,” said Mona. “Which makes this situation with Giovanni so much harder.”

Boris put his arm around Mona and she let herself lean into his strong, solid body, taking in the scent of his heavy, masculine musk.

“I know you’ll be able to find the right thing to do. And I’ll be here to help you in any way I can.”

“Thanks,” she said.

They sat together for a time and Mona felt safe and secure in Boris’s arms. She found it hard to believe that the musician she had met only a short time ago would be the catalyst for what might cause the growing tensions between the two clans to explode. She knew that once Giovanni found out that she was with Boris, he’d attack with everything he had.

But for now, she was safe. And looking up at Boris’s handsome face as he looked impassively into the middle distance, stoic and calm, she realized that she was beginning to feel emotions for him that went beyond lust for his gorgeous face and perfect body. Then, as though compelled, like in the dream, she reached up, placing her hand on his face, feeling the hard bristling of stubble against her palm. Slowly, she moved her face towards his, looking deep into his eyes as her mouth parted slightly. Boris’s eyes narrowed as he realized what Mona had in mind, and his hand slid slowly down from her shoulder to her hip, squeezing the softness of her curves.

Then, she pressed her lips to his, as if drinking him in, her hands on his solid flanks, the muscles firm and taut under his blue V-neck t-shirt. They kissed each other with the same passionate hunger, their tongues eagerly searching for one another. Her lips still pressed onto Boris’s, Mona moved her body until she was sitting on his lap, his hands now moving up and under her shirt, feeling her breasts beneath it.

Removing her lips from his, Mona sat up straight and pulled her shirt off, the air of the bedroom cool against her now bare breasts. Boris followed by pulling his own shirt off, revealing the wide-shouldered, perfect body that Mona had found herself unable to stop thinking about. Boris scooped Mona’s breasts into his hands, licking and sucking her nipples, the stimulation driving Mona wild as she closed her eyes and let the tingling sensation of his tongue on her body course through her.

After minutes of this, Mona moved backwards and stood in front of Boris. She watched him look over her body with hungry eyes as he leaned back and supported his own body with his arms, the muscles flexing and hard. Mona stepped out of her pants, pulling her panties off with them. Then, she leaned forward, unfastening Boris’s belt and pulling his pants off, a sly smile on his face as he watched.

With a deft tug, she pulled off Boris’s jeans, his erection springing free. Mona looked at his cock with a ravenous gaze, wanting it inside her that very instant. She stepped towards Boris, her legs moving to the outside of his, the head of his cock grazing her pussy as she positioned herself to straddle him. Then, taking his cock into her hand, and slowly lowered herself onto him, his cock sliding deep, sheathing fully in her.

Mona rocked her hips back and forth slowly at first, enjoying the feeling of Boris’s cock inside of her. Her back was straight, her breasts sticking out proudly as she moved her hips. Boris rested his strong hands on her hips, squeezing her gently as he had done before. Then his hands moved around her slim hips and grabbed her ass, as though imploring her to ride him harder.

She complied, increasing the pace of her rocking, her hips now moving in a steady bounce atop Boris’s cock. A deep welling of orgasm began to form inside of her, and she began to moan in a sound that was at first soft, but quickly moved into a heavy pant. Boris grunted as he dug his grip into her ass, kneading the soft flesh of her rear with his fingers. Mona fucked him harder, leaning forward as she rode him, her hands on his rock-hard shoulders for support.

The feeling of pleasure was becoming almost too much, the sensation of his erect prick in her driving her mad with ecstasy. Then her orgasm broke loose, as though it were a raging animal thundering through the confines of its pen. Mona screamed with delight, a wail that sounded almost pained. Boris grunted hard, his own orgasm erupting as he came deep into her. She continued to ride him hard through her orgasm, until it finished, her body ebbing back to normalcy.

Eventually, she stopped, no sound in the air but the steady breathing of the pair. Mona fell forward, collapsing onto Boris’s sculpted chest, and fell asleep once again. 

 

The next few weeks passed quickly. Mona stayed with Boris, not leaving his home for fear of being spotted by Giovanni or one of the other members of the pack. And during that time, Mona and Boris slipped into a pattern that she almost considered to be domestic. They slept in the same bed, ate their meals together, and, of course, slept together with regularity. Ivan, Aran, and other members of the bear clan stopped by, eager to meet this member of the wolf elite who now seemed to have come over to their side as the two clans moved closer and closer to war.

And during these few days, Mona began to feel comfortable among the bears. She felt a safety and security that she never felt at Giovanni’s, with the constant drug-dealing and partying. And she never felt as though she had to watch her step in order to not enrage the master of the house. The experience made her feel conflicted- though she was a wolf by blood, she began to feel as though her loyalties were shifting more towards the Ukrainians.

Boris helped her develop her power. Each night, the rode his motorcycle to the park where she first shifted in his presence, and he used his skill to teach her how to control the immense powers that she now realized she possessed. But he was careful to let her know that her new-found strength and power were only the tip of the iceberg; with time and training she could become one of the most powerful shifters that the city had ever seen.

Her dream stayed with her. She couldn’t stop thinking about the gaze of Boris upon her belly. She wasn’t a dream analyst, but she had a fairly strong inclination that this might’ve been her body’s way of telling her that a new life was to come from her relationship with Boris. One night, she left the house for the first time in nearly a week and purchased a pregnancy test from the nearest Duane Reade.

One trip to the bathroom later and she realized that the suggestion in her dream was true: she was pregnant with Boris’s baby.

She didn’t know what to do. She knew that she had to tell him at some point, but now seemed to be  hardly the right time. Mona had heard from one of the Omega members of the clan that another gamma had been attacked and killed by wolves. Since then, the clan had been preparing for war, planning a preemptive strike in order to turn the inevitable conflict to their favor. With war so close, Mona didn’t think this was the right time to distract Boris with such news. She didn’t even know if he’d be happy to hear it.

Mona asked Boris if there was anything she could do but he insisted that she stay as far from the conflict as possible. So, she waited. But one night, as she arose from a restless sleep, everything would change.

When Mona awoke, she saw with a quick check of the clock on the bedside table that it was the middle of the night. Not even bothering to close the door to her room before she passed out, she could hear the low murmur of conversation from downstairs. Mona pushed herself off the bed and walked slowly towards the crack of light that bled into the darkness of her room. As she drew closer to the hallway, she couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but could tell that there were quite a few different voices, more than just Boris, Ivan, and Aran- it sounded like a meeting of all of the high-ups of the pack.

She walked even more slowly, not wanting to disturb the conversation. She approached the corner that turned to the stairs and positioned her body near the end of the wall, attempting to listen in.

“…confirmed her power,” said a voice, deep and low, a voice that Mona didn’t recognize.

“Yes, it’s even more than we had thought,” said another voice, which she recognized as Boris.

“Really? More than you thought? And she’s here now?” said the deep-voiced man.

“Yes, upstairs,” said a voice that sounded like Aran’s.

Mona’s blood ran cold as she realized they were talking about her. She wondered how they knew about her and her new powers. She continued to listen.

“Then bring her down here, I want to see her for myself,” said the low-voiced man.

“I can’t,” said Boris. “She doesn’t know of our plan. As far as she can tell, she’s only here because I’m letting her hide out from her brother.”

Mona listened more intently. What was he saying?

“Then you’ve done well,” said the deep-voiced man. “The girl will be essential in our plan to bring the wolves to their knees. If events proceed as smoothly as they have been, we’ll have broken the backs of the wolves within the week, solidified our hold on Lower Manhattan, and finally be able to begin preparing for our plan to move into Harlem and displace those damn tigers.”

There a murmuring of approval from the crowd of dozens.

“And you, my dear boy, will finally be able to have your revenge on that psychotic wolf,” continued the deep-voiced man. “Everything is moving in a manner that will be mutually equitable.”

“Yes,” said Boris.

“Why so despondent? You’re on the cusp of getting what you’ve wanted for a year; I would think you’d be in more of a celebratory mood.”

“You are right, Dima. All is going according to plan,” said Boris.

“Very good,” said the low-voiced man. “Now, let us drink to our impending victory. Nasdrovie!”

The crowd of men and women repeated the toast, a clinking of glasses rang, and lively conversation broke out.

Mona felt her hands involuntarily clench into fists. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, that Boris and the rest of the wolves were merely using her as a pawn in their game. She thought she had found somewhere she was safe, but she now realized that she had just gone from one awful situation to another. She felt angered, betrayed, as though she wanted to turn into her wolf form and rush down into the living room, killing as many of the bears as she could before they brought her down.

But instead, she turned back towards the bedroom, looking out at the window at the city beyond. Placing her hands on the window frame, she pulled it open, the evening air filling the room. Mona then walked backwards, taking off her clothes until she stood nude before the window. Then, she rolled her hips, stretched her legs, and calmed her mind, just as Boris had taught her.

She shifted, her body changing from her human form to her wolf shape. Now on all fours, she snorted through her wet nostrils, hot air shooting out in white jets. With a tensing of her limbs, she leaped through the window, onto the roof of the building adjacent, and looked out over the nearby apartments of the East Village. She had no idea where she was going to run, but she ran regardless, the wind rushing through her fur as she sped, running faster than she’d ever run in her wolf form, the hot burn of tears welling in her eyes, only to be immediately blown away by the passing air.

 

Mona awoke in a strange room. It was a place that she didn’t recognize, a small, dark room adorned with dangling, exotic trinkets, the air laced with foreign, pungent scents. She was lying in a bed, her body covered in warm, earth-toned knit blankets. Her first instinct was to panic, and jumping out of the small bed, she ran to the door, tried the knob, and found that it was locked tight.

“Let me out!” she yelled, banging her fists on the thick wood of the door. “Help!”

She stopped when she heard rapid footsteps through the door.

“Calm down, little one,” said an accented voice that hit Mona’s ears as strangely familiar.

The footsteps stopped at the door. Mona heard a series of locks open, followed by the turning of the door knob. When it opened, she was greeted with the tall, dark figure of a woman.

“You are up, finally,” she said, a wide, white smile was a contrast to her dark skin.

Mona looked at the woman for a moment before realizing who she was- it was Sana, the Senegalese woman from Giovanni’s party.

“You’re…”

“Yes, we have met before, though briefly.”

“What am I doing here?”

Sana’s comely, dark face turned serious.

“You remember not a thing”

“No,” said Mona, the warmth exuded by Sana calming her initial distress.

“That is what I was afraid of. Please, sit back down,” Sana said, gesturing to the bed.

“I’m not sitting anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” said Mona.

“That is my intention.”

Still hesitant, Mona stepped back near the bed and sat back down upon it.

“You arrived here several days ago in your wolf form,” said Sana, stepping into the room, her long-fingered hands folded in front of her.

“I…what?” asked Mona.

“What is the last thing you remember?”

Mona tried to think. Everything seemed like a blur. But after a few moments, the memory of the meeting, then her escape afterwards drifted back into her thoughts. But everything after that was a blur.

“I remember running in my wolf form, but that’s it.”

Sana nodded, as though what Mona had just said confirmed a suspicion.

“You arrived in Le Petite Senegal, making quite the scene leaping from rooftop to rooftop. We had never seen a wolf move quite like you before; there was such power to you, such speed. When we finally approached you, you shifted back into your human form and we brought you here.”

Sana was interrupted by a man knocking on the open door to the room, a small, black tray carrying three steaming ceramic cups of tea in his right hand.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but I figured something to drink was in order,” he said.

“You’re…” started Mona, recognizing the man as Sana’s companion from the other night.

“Awa, Sana’s brother,” he said, offering the tea. “Here, this will restore your vitality.”

Mona took the small, intricately decorated cup and brought the steaming liquid to her mouth, taking a sip. The tea had a spicy, earthy taste that was complex and delightful.

“Then what happened?”

“We brought you here before you could draw too much attention to yourself. And once you were here, you begged for use of our potions to rid you of the baby that grows inside of you.”

Again, this swirled back into Mona’s mind. She remembered wanting nothing more than to abort Boris’s baby. She remembered being filled with disgust at the man who betrayed her, the thought of carrying his child unbearable.

“And…did you do it?” asked Mona, now less certain of what she wanted.

Awa and Sana looked at one another with the same apprehensive expression, as though trying to determine exactly how much they should tell her.

“We…tried,’ said Awa.

“Tried?” asked Mona, her voice demanding. “What do you mean?”

“Aborting a shifter baby is no small task, but we had a potion that purported to do just that,” said Sana.

“But it had never been used before,” added Awa.

“And once we gave it to you, instead of terminating the child, it unlocked the power that remained untapped within you,” said Sana. “We were forced to give you another potion that put you into a brief coma, in order for your body to acclimate to the new power that courses through it.”

Mona sat back, her hands wrapped around the small tea cup.

“Then I still have the baby?”

“Fortunately, yes. Or unfortunately, depending on your perspective.”

A wave of relief washed over Mona. As much as the thought of carrying Boris’s child repulsed her, she couldn’t help but feel glad that the potion didn’t do its work. She didn’t know why, but she felt that there was something important about this baby.

“So, I’m still pregnant, I have more power than I’ve ever had before, and I’ve been unconscious for several days. Great. Anything else?”

Awa and Sana exchanged that same look of apprehension.

“Yes,” said Sana, her eyes closed, as if preparing to deliver more bad news. “The war between the wolves and the bears has finally broken out.”

Nausea rushed through Mona. Everything that she had heard recently led her to believe that the war was inevitable, but hearing that it was now a reality was almost too much for her to take in.

“What…what happened?”

“It appears that the wolves, your people, made a preemptive strike upon the bears. Several were killed on the bear’s home turf in the East Village.”

“Boris?” Mona blurted out.

“We do not know,” said Awa. “It is the way of our people to avoid conflict with the other clans, and to stay out of their squabbles.”

“But the situation with the Alpha of your clan, your brother…It worries us,” said Sana.

“When you saw us at your home, we were there by a ruse,” said Awa. “We told your brother that we were ourselves considering getting into the drug business. But in reality, we were there to see what kind of man he was.”

“And to see you,” added Sana.

“What?” asked Mona. “Why me?”

“Because, young one, you and your brother are the last in a line of powerful shifters. You don’t know about your parents, but they were killed soon after giving birth to you for fear of their power. And the same would’ve happened to you and him, had he not managed to rise to such a powerful position through his dalliances in the drug trade.”

“So, Giovanni’s deal-dealing is the only reason that he and I are still alive?”

“Yes,” said Sana. “There are forces that you know nothing about that meddle in the affairs of our kind. Very powerful forces. But they weren’t able to reach you and him.”

Mona said nothing, instead taking a slow sip of her tea, her mind on the fighting that was going on as they spoke.

“And there’s more,” said Awa. “You can’t sit this battle out. There’s a delicate balance of power in the city, and if your brother manages to beat the bears, it’s only a matter of time before he takes over the city.”

“Then why aren’t the tigers helping?” asked Mona.

“Because our elders are stubborn. They want isolationism above all, thinking they can simply ignore the chaos that builds around them,” said Sana, her words almost spit out in disgust.

“But Giovanni will win this war if you don’t stop him,” said Awa. “Only your power can bring this fighting to an end. And the longer you wait, the more bloodshed there will be.”

Mona stood, feeling rejuvenated, and full of purpose.

“Then I can’t waste another second.”

 

Mona stood with Sana and Awa on the roof of their Harlem townhome, looking down at the green span of Central Park and the rest of the city beyond, the inky dark of the starless sky above them an obsidian curtain over the city.

“You cannot sit out this conflict like we have been commanded, little one,” said Awa. “Your power could make the difference between an ending to the fighting and an all-out slaughter.”

“We have done all we can for you, Mona,” said Sana. “Go back to your home, and put an end to what your brother has begun. The fate of our people in this city hangs in the balance.”

Mona turned back to the brother and the sister.

“Thank you both for everything you’ve done.”

“It was nothing,” said Sana. “Just know that you have friends in the Senegalese.”

“And remember what we’ve done for you, should we ever have a favor of our own to ask,” added Awa. “This is a strange time for our people and we all need all the allies we can get.”

“Oh, and one last thing,” said Sana. “Consider that all of us are in difficult situations. We must, as you surely know, act in ways we might not otherwise when we are commanded as such. Keep this in mind when you see your friend in the bear clan once again.”

Mona nodded, the thought of Boris still weighing heavily on her heart, despite his apparent betrayal. Then, she shifted into her wolf form, looked out onto the city, and exploded into a run at incredible speed.

However more power she was beginning to feel since Boris’s training, it was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. Her muscles felt like they were powered by an impossibly strong engine, her breath seemed bottomless, and her reflexes allowed her to jump from rooftop to rooftop with perfect precision, not missing a beat. She had no idea what was in the potion that Sana gave to her nights ago, but whatever it was, it was the final key needed to unlock the incredible power that she had learned was inside of her.

Leaping and running, she made her way to the East Village, and finally to Boris’s townhome. As she looked around the neighborhood from the vantage point of a particularly tall building, she saw the red and blue flashing lights of police cars in various places; something told her that this had to do with the war. Taking care to hide her form, she deftly darted to the rooftop of Boris’s place, shifting into her human form and sneaking in through the window of Boris’s bedroom. Once there, she found a pile of her clothing, put on an outfit, and walked with careful steps through the house.

Nothing on the second floor seemed out of place, but the appearance of normalcy changed as soon as she approached the downstairs living room, the place where the conversation that she had heard took place.

The scene in the room was one of a large, violent struggle. Bodies were strewn here and there, red claw marks on their skin. As she looked closer, she saw that they had all been killed with a combination of claws and bites, some from wolves, some from bears. But she didn’t recognize anyone; she realized they were all foot soldiers, no one higher-up.

“Mona, is that you?” called out a voice, thin and hoarse.

Mona turned around in surprise and saw that it was Aran, his body slashed and bloody. She rushed over to him, kneeling at his side.

“Aran, what happened?” she asked.

“Surprise attack,” he said. “We tried to hide out here, but they found us.”

“Where are the rest of the bears?” she asked, propping his head up with her hand.

“I don’t know,” he said, before breaking out into a coughing fit. “The elders went into hiding as soon as they realized that your brother got the drop on them.”

“And where’s Boris?”

Another coughing fit, this one producing a sputter of blood.

“They took him, figured they’d use him to draw you out. They’re all looking for you, Mona.”

She thought about Boris, her feelings toward him still conflicted.

“They’re at the Elizabeth Warehouse in Nolita, they’re waiting for you.”

“Just stay here, Aran. I’ll get help.”

He shook his head and waved his hand as if dismissing her.

“Don’t worry about me. Just some water. I’ll be fine.”

She nodded in understanding and ran into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. But when she returned to the living room, she saw that Aran had died. Mona wondered if he had been saving his last bit of life to warn her about Giovanni, should she come. Closing his eyes with a sweep of her palm, Mona returned to the second floor, then onto the roof. She knew of the warehouse that Aran spoke of: it was a place where Giovanni often performed drug-related business. It was only a few blocks away and staying in her human form, she ran across the rooftops once again. After a time, she was at the warehouse.

She approached the front door hesitantly, still not certain of her plan. Opening the door, she stepped into the small lobby of the warehouse, a member of her clan sitting in a chair, his eyes closed. With careful steps, Mona snuck passed him, now able to walk with the silent steps of a stalking wolf. But when she reached hallway that led to the main store room, she encountered a pack of her clan.

“There she is!” shouted one as they group ran towards her.

She considered fleeing, but knew that it was pointless- one way or another, she would have to confront Giovanni.

“Goddamn traitor!”

“Lying bitch!”

“Bear lover!”

The insults flew at Mona in harsh volley as they grabbed her limbs.

“Your brother’s just been waiting to get his hands on you,” said one of the men, a man with scraggly blond hair and a scar down his face.

“Figures she’d turn her back on her own kind,” said another, a woman with stringy brown hair and a wild look on her gaunt face.

Mona let her body go limp as the group brought her to the main store room. Finally, they reached a set of double doors which one of them kicked open, revealing a massive, open room, lit with large, hanging lights that cast the space in a harsh, white light. The room was packed full of male and female members of the clan who stood guard over dozens of bears that were bound in chains and forced onto their knees. And at the far end, in a large chair with a tall back that gave the appearance of an industrial throne, was Giovanni, seated with Boris bound and chained as his side.

“Sis,” he shouted, rising from his chair. “We were wonderin’ when you’d finally show up!”

 

“Gio!” shouted Mona, walking towards her brother with a stride braced with newfound confidence, a feeling that she’d never before been able to show in front of him. “What did you do?”

She looked at Boris as she walked closer, who wore an expression of regret on his face.

“I did exactly what needed to be done,” he said, a swagger to his steps. “I brought these little bears to heel, and took our rightful place as the rulers of Lower Manhattan.”

“Wasn’t too hard, either,” he continued. “Once I got the drop on them, they ran like scared little puppies. The Elders of their tribe and that shithead Alpha- what’s his name, Dime? Eh, who cares- are holed up in some Midtown penthouse while the ground troops are all here. Pretty fuckin’ sad, if you ask me.”

“Mona!” shouted Boris. “Please forgive me, I was only doing what I was commanded.”

Giovanni silenced Boris with a swift kick to the ribs.

“I thought bears were supposed to be the strong, silent types,” said Giovanni.

“Don’t you dare hit him again!” shouted Mona.

“Aw, you don’t want me to hurt your little bear boyfriend?”

Giovanni then drove another kick into Boris’s side, sending him onto the ground in a coughing, gasping mess.

“I’m warning you, Gio!” Mona said, her voice stern and strong.

“Or else what, sis?”

Mona stared into her brother’s face for a hard moment.

“Listen, Mo,” said Giovanni, his tone softening. “I didn’t lure you down here to fight.”

“Then what?” she demanded.

“I’m glad you’re here, because I want to make peace.”

“You’re kidding me,” Mona said.

“No kiddin’. I know we’ve had our differences, and I know I haven’t been the best brother. But everything I did was for your own good, and for the good of our pack.”

“What, like keeping me locked up like a prisoner?”

“Yeah, like that. I couldn’t risk your power falling into the wrong hands. Shit, I turn my back on you for five minutes and these bears are climbin’ over each other to turn you against me.”

“He’s lying, Mona!” shouted Boris.

“Another fuckin’ word outta you and you’re not gonna like what happens!” said Giovanni, pointing at Boris with an angry finger.

“And so you think slaughtering the bears and turning us into a pack of drug dealers is how to keep us safe?”

“I know that. You want to slowly accumulate money like our ancestors while the other packs get more powerful by the day. War was inevitable. I just wanted to give us an advantage before it broke out. And it worked! We brought down the bears within days and the tigers are next.”

Then his voice grew grave.

“Because, sis, there are things outside of this city that you don’t even want to know about. Things more powerful than you’d believe. And unless we come out on top and make this city our stronghold, they’ll take advantage of this fighting and kill us all.”

“What’re you talking about, Gio?” Mona said, confused.

“Nothing you need to know about now. But like I said, I’m here to offer the olive branch, as it were. Surrender, join me, and we’ll rule this city as a family, like we were meant to. We can put all of this bullshit behind us.”

“Until the humans come down on us for dealing, that is,” said Mona.

“They won’t; we’ll be too strong. We can rule this city from the inside out.”

Mona looked again at Boris, his face an imploring expression.

“I’ll even look past you running around with this piece of shit,” said Giovanni, looking at Boris with disgust. “And I’ll only ask one thing of you: that you kill this fucker.”

Mona was stunned. Her eyes shot to Boris, who wore a stoic expression on his face. She walked towards her brother, closing the distance between them to mere feet, the eyes of the dozens and dozens of wolves and their bear prisoners on the three.

“Mona, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I wanted to get to Giovanni for getting the woman I loved hooked on that poison he sells. I used you to do it, but I didn’t anticipate what would happen, that I would fall in love with you.”

“Your girl, huh? I’ve seen so many junkie floozies that I can’t even keep track of ‘em all,” said Giovanni, his tone dismissive.

“Both of you, just shut up!” cried Mona, conflicted and unsure of what to do next.

Boris’s words moved her; she would be lying if she said feelings of her own hadn’t burrowed into her heart. But his betrayal wounded her. And Giovanni’s offer was no offer at all, but he was kin- the only kin she had.

She couldn’t ignore the way that he treated her. He claimed it was for her own good, but she knew that it was simply out of fear of her power. And a man like him in power would be a reign of terror that the clans had never before seen.

“Maybe I’ll just have to make the choice easier for you, huh?” said Giovanni.

Pulling a massive, gleaming buck knife from his hip sheath, he approached Boris, grabbing his hair in his hand, and holding the knife to his neck.

“He dies either way, Mo.”

A welling of rage boiled in Mona. As Giovanni held the blade to Boris’s neck, Mona knew that the days of her brother lording over her like a dictator were over. In a quick instant, Mona shifted into her wolf form and stared at her brother with murderous eyes, power coursing through her.

“Ah, I get it,” said Giovanni, throwing the knife to the ground with a clatter. “Kin doesn’t mean a goddamn thing to you. Fine, have it your way, sis.”

He then shifted and the two of them moved around one another, forming a shifting, menacing circle, both baring their teeth and sounding fierce growls. Mona knew that while her power was immense, Giovanni was still her brother, and much of the same power was in him as well.

Giovanni made the first move, leaping towards Mona, a wild growl sounding as he leaped. But Mona was too quick for him. She jumped out of his way with reflexes that he couldn’t hope to match. Mona cast a quick glance around the massive space of the room; the rest of the pack was watching intently, wondering who would be the Alpha of their pack when the battle was over. And Boris watched with eager eyes, knowing both his life and the life of his new love were on the line.

Giovanni snapped his jaw at Mona, which she dodged with just as much ease, his teeth biting into the air with a wet, angry snarl. He attempted to swipe at her with his knife-sharp paws, but nothing connected. Mona realized that Giovanni’s power, immense as it was, was nothing compared to her reflexes. She realized that the battle was hers to end and she could sense that Giovanni knew it.

But she couldn’t spare him. It wasn’t the way of their kind.

Mona squared up to her brother, tensed her back legs, and pounced, flying through the air like a bullet, opening her mouth, and slamming her jaws shut on Giovanni’s neck, her teeth digging deep into his flesh. A whimper sounded from Giovanni and Mona felt his body go limp in her jaw. With a quick shake, she finished him off before letting his body drop from her mouth and land on the ground with a meaty thud.

Not a sound could be heard. Mona shifted back to her human form, her nude body defiant and proud as the pack looked on. Then, every wolf lowered his head in submission and dropped to one knee.

The pack had a new Alpha.

 

Mona looked up at Boris with seductive, narrowed eyes as he positioned himself on top of her, her legs spreading open as he moved between them. She looked down, feeling herself grow wetter at the sight of his thick, hard cock. It had been months since she took control of the pack and officially began her relationship with Boris, but she still had yet to tire of the sight of his magnificent, long prick.

“I love you, baby,” he said, his cock resting on Mona’s pussy.

“I love you, too,” she said, her hand on the back of his head, feeling his warm skin through his thick head of hair.

Then, with a plunging of his hips, Boris penetrated Mona, filling her completely. He moved into a steady, slow rhythm, taking pleasure at the feeling of her wet warmth enveloping him. Mona breathed in steadily, feeling the pleasure radiate out from where he was inside of her, the soft exhalations of his warm breath on her face. He propped himself up on his thick arms, moving his hips gently, his cock sliding in and out of her.

“That feel good, baby?” he asked, his voice weighted with arousal.

“Mmmm, yeah,” she said. “So fucking good.”

Boris increased the pace of his thrusting, entering her at a quicker speed, the sound of his cock sliding in and out of her audible from under the covers that were draped over their lower bodies. Mona loved the wet sound of him fucking her; knowing that his cock was filling her to capacity was enough to bring her to the brink of orgasm in and of itself. He lowered himself slightly and brought his lips to her neck, kissing the delicate skin behind her ear, the sensation sending shivers through her body as he ran his hand through her red hair, his cock still sliding in and out of her.

“Fuck me harder,” she said, now desperately craving the sensation of him pounding her.

He lifted up a bit, a smirk on his full, red lips. She could tell that he wanted it, too. Boris increased the pace of his thrusting. No longer gently moving in and out of her, he now entered her at a jackhammer speed, the feeling of his hard cock pulsing in Mona, driving her to the wild brink of abandon with each thrust. Mona felt her orgasm build and build as Boris’s fevered, powerful thrusting brought her closer and closer. Looking down, she saw a thin sheen of glistening sweat form on her quivering breasts, the heat from Boris’s body radiating sensual warmth.

She let her hands slide along the length of his body, as much to keep herself steady as it was to feel his muscles. Mona watched Boris’s handsome face tighten as he pounded her, seeing that he was moving closer and closer to cumming.

“Cum inside me, baby,” Mona said between breaths, the heat and pleasure radiating from her sex on the brink of breaking loose.

Mona closed her eyes again, focusing on the feeling of Boris inside of her, listening to his sharp grunts and the sound of his hips slapping against hers, that wet flesh-on-flesh that turned her on so much. She took in a deep breath through her nostrils, the sweaty, musky smell of his body filling her senses. She focused on the feeling of the sweat of his back under her fingertips. All of these sensations whirled into a storm of passion that brought orgasm tantalizingly close.

Then, as she felt her vision blur beneath her eyelids, her orgasm came, ripping through her body and sending hot waves of pleasure down all of her limbs, from the fingers that dug into Boris’s back, to the toes under the sheet which were now tight and curled. She savored the feeling of the orgasm that her lover brought her, letting the sweet surrender loosen her body, which began to feel plaint and soft as pudding beneath his furious pounding.

Boris’s orgasm came as soon as hers did, the sight of her cumming was always enough to drive Boris wild. With a grunt and a heave, Boris unloaded himself into her, filling her with his cum, his face clenched in a tight expression of masculine pleasure. Moan’s orgasm finished along with his, and holding himself in her for a few moments longer, he took several deep breaths, regaining his stamina before collapsing to her side, both of their chests heaving.

“Not a bad way to start the day,” said Mona, after a time, her fingernails dancing on Boris’s hard, smooth chest.

“Definitely worth skipping breakfast,” said Boris, a roguish smirk on his lips, his hair tussled and draped over his forehead.

“Hey, we can fuck and have time for breakfast. I’m the Alpha, remember?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said, the smile still on his face.

In the months since Mona took command of the pack, things changed drastically. Her first command was to begin the ceasing of the wolf clan’s involvement in the drug trade. This decision was met with relief among the pack, who were chafing under Giovanni’s lawlessness. But the decision was more difficult to put into practice than she thought; Giovanni had made the pack an integral hub in the Manhattan heroin and cocaine trade, and pulling them out of it involved a crash course in diplomacy. Many of the dealers that she met with took the news poorly before figuring a pregnant woman who had only recently ascended to the position of Alpha would be easy to strong arm back into dealing, but a quick graze of a claw across the face was enough to set even the most hardened kingpin straight. Soon, she had the respect of the underworld and they all understood that she wasn’t one to be trifled with.

The situation with the bears was less certain. After the attack by Giovanni, the bear’s ranks were severely depleted. And Dima, the Alpha, and the rest of the leaders fleeing at the first sign of danger did little to instill faith in the leadership of the clan. On top of everything, those who did remain had a hard time trusting the wolves. Though it was understood that the pack was to follow their Alpha to the bitter end, many bears still didn’t trust the wolves, despite the truce that had been agreed upon after Giovanni’s death.

Boris explained the situation with Melanie, his former love, to Mona. She was hurt by his betrayal, thinking that he only was using her for his own ends, but after Boris explained what Giovanni had done to his ex-girlfriend, how he had stolen her away from Boris, and set into motion the sequence of events that would lead to her death, she began to understand. Mona knew that her brother had hurt many during his time as Alpha of the pack, and that Boris would seek revenge was something that she could understand. But his betrayal had cut her deeply, and they swore to each other to never deceive the other again. And over time, their trust for one another was as strong as it could hope to be.

The baby that grew inside of Mona was another issue. It was a source of joy for the couple, certainly, but they found themselves thinking of the future of the child, and what sort of life it would live as the joining of two species of shifters.

Giovanni’s warning also hung heavy in their minds. None of the other members of the wolf pack knew what sort of strange outside power he spoke about. They said that he had grown paranoid as time went on, fearing threats that didn’t exist. Mona and Boris wondered if this power was something they needed to fear, or if it was just another one of Giovanni’s paranoid delusions.

Either way, though they were happy, the future for them was anything but certain.

A knock at the door snapped the couple out of their post-coital bliss.

“Were you expecting someone?” asked Mona, jumping out of bed and throwing on clothes.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” he replied, now out of bed and stepping into a pair of jeans.

Their eyes narrowed, the now-dressed pair rushed down the stairs of Mona’s Nolita home and arrived at the door just as another series of knocks sounded. Opening the door, they were greeted with the sight of Sana and Awa, each holding a small, wrapped present in.

“We are sorry to come by unannounced, but we wanted to bring by a couple of gifts for the parents-to-be,” said Sana, her face warm.

“Of course, come in,” said Boris.

The pair entered, looking around.

“Your home looks much nicer now that it is no longer a, ah, drug den,” said Awa, noting the clean state of the house.

“Thanks,” said Boris. “Amazing what not having wild drug-dealing parties will do for a place.”

A moment passed.

“Well, the first gift is a tea set,” said Sana. “Shall we have a round?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” said Mona, gesturing to a small table near a large, sunny window.

The group sat down, aside from Awa, who stepped into the kitchen to prepare the tea.

“This must be an exciting time for you,” said Sana, her eyes on Mona’s stomach, now round with pregnancy.

“’Exciting’ could be one way to describe it,” said Boris, sitting back and crossing his legs.

“Yes, this is a strange time for our people,” said Sana. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed, the conflict between the wolves and the bears was watched carefully by the tiger elders. And now that something of a peace has been achieved, their eyes are now on the woman who made it happen.”

Awa returned, setting the small teacups, which were white and decorated with vaguely African drawings of tigers, in front of each of the group.

“I figured that something like that was going on,” said Mona, taking the steaming teacup with the tips of her fingers. “Having this much attention on me isn’t something I’m used to yet.”

“I am afraid that is your new reality,” said Awa, sitting down. “The Alphas of our people can’t make a move that is not followed by the eyes of every ladder-climber among our kind.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Boris, as though speaking from experience.

A silence descended on the group. Awa and Sana shared a look, as though each was preparing to broach a difficult subject.

“Well, ah, as you know, your baby is not just any child,” said Sana, setting down her teacup.

“No kidding,” said Boris.

“You have guessed as much already,” said Awa. “But your child is the first cross-clan baby that will have been born since the first arrival of our people to New York. It was outlawed for a time, but the rules have since gone lax.”

“Illegal? Why?” asked Mona.

“Without getting into the gory details,” said Sana, “it was determined that mixing the blood of our kind provoked too much in the way of conflict. Too many babies were born who had no clear loyalty between the clans. A hybrid of a tiger and a wolf, for example, will never be sure which clan she belongs to.”

“Yeah,” said Boris. “That’s something we’d thought about. But what happened to the hybrids before, then?”

“All we know is that they left the city to make their own way,” continued Sana. “Some think they went off to the old countries, others think they went to one of the other major cities in this country. But no one knows for sure.”

Sana and Awa finished their tea with a pair of tossed-back swigs.

“We have taken up enough of your day,” said Awa, rising from the table along with Sana. “We simply wanted to give you our well-wishes for the future.”

“Thank you,” said Mona, accepting a hug from Sana. “For everything.”

Boris and Mona led the two to the door, the sun setting in the city beyond, the sky cast in brilliant, swirling oranges and purples.

“There are strange times coming, friends,” said Sana. “Enjoy the peace while it lasts. And know that you have friends in Harlem.”

More thank-yous were exchanged, and Boris and Mona bid Sana farewell.

“There was something strange about them today,” said Mona.

“Stranger, you mean?”

Mona jabbed Boris playfully.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, you’re right. It seemed like there was something going on that they weren’t telling us.”

“Exactly.”

A moment passed, and Boris slipped his arm around Mona’s shoulder.

“Are you scared?” she asked.”

“Maybe a little. Who knows what the future will hold,” he said, looking off into the city sky. “But I do know that whatever comes, we can take it together.”

Mona said nothing. She knew that as the Alpha, she would have to be strong beyond what she thought she was capable of. But she knew Boris was right- together, they could do anything.

THE END