“He’s at it again.” Viv leaned against Lux as if to whisper in her ear, but it was clearly loud enough to be heard by everyone.

“I think it’s cute.” Lux smiled, tilting her head to rest it atop Viv’s. “You used to stare at me like that across the room. It took you months to find the courage to approach me. You were so shy.”

“I wasn’t shy,” Viv huffed, stabbing at her food with her fork. “I thought you were too good for me. There’s a difference.”

They sat in the dining hall the morning after Dylan and Blake had returned from their mission to the satellite tower. They had spent much of the previous day trudging through the snow, caught up in a snowstorm that left little room for conversation. The wind tugged at them, falling snow blinded them, and the chill seeped into their bones. It was great for covering their tracks and traces of what they had done at the tower, but it was terrible to walk through.

They barely spoke when they returned, exchanging tired, soft smiles before trudging to their own rooms for hot showers and fresh clothes. Blake had spent the rest of the evening with Arulean in his study, relaying everything he’d found out about the tower and attempting to explain the changes he’d made to the surveillance protocols to someone who barely understood how to use a smartphone.

He hadn’t seen Dylan after that. Not until now. He sat at his usual table across the room, Adrien bouncing on his knee while he ate. Lily sat at his side, eating her own breakfast. They were surrounded by the usual crowd of pack and friends, but there was a distinctly open spot next to Dylan. It wasn’t as if there was a person missing. The usual crowd was all there. There was simply a gap between Dylan and Lucy sitting next to him.

It was a gap just large enough for someone else to sit down, but no one moved to occupy the space, and Blake had been staring at it for nearly ten minutes now.

“Hey, lover wolf, when ya gonna actually go over and say hi?” Ben asked, leaning into Blake’s space to elbow him in the side.

Blake turned to him, a smirk playing across his lips. “You know what? I think I will.”

They all stared at him in varying combinations of surprise and excitement as he stood, picking up his plate and his mug of coffee before walking down the aisle between the tables. Ignoring their snickers and their heavy stares, he made his way around the room, approaching the far table. Rajiah sat across from Dylan and was the first to see him coming. He grinned widely and waved, and Blake didn’t miss the way Dylan sat up a little straighter.

When Blake slid into the empty space next to him, he was greeted by Dylan’s small, pleased smile.

And their feet nudged each other beneath the table until their ankles locked together, calves pressed tight, neither of them pulling away. Well, no one said anything.

* * *

The next few weeks passed by in a daze. Blake felt lighter than he had in months. The shadows that had been haunting him, lurking in the back of his mind and nipping at his heels, seemed to dissipate, overrun by sheer giddy excitement. He couldn’t ever remember feeling like this.

His nights were spent restlessly tossing and turning and planning, impatient for the sun to finally rise. He found it easy to get out of bed in the morning, encouraged by the prospect of seeing Dylan again. Speaking with him, catching sight of him as he went out on patrol and making him smile during meals. He lay in bed most nights replaying the events of the day, all the conversations they’d had, and dwelling on the lingering scent of Dylan that pervaded his clothes.

Dylan plagued his thoughts throughout his waking hours.

When he was helping with the electronic security, he found himself searching for Dylan on the camera feeds simply to get a glimpse of him. He sat next to him during their meals, permanently moving to the new table and causing his friends to do so, too. None of them seemed to mind. In fact, they seemed happy to be united once more, and for the first time, Blake considered how his and Dylan’s separation had split their friends within the pack.

He still had his fair share of work to do. Between managing the pack’s security systems and information databases, making sure they were up to date and secure, Blake had his work with the witches to keep up with. He kept in contact with Adalaide, and through her, with the coalition of witch covens they had spent so long convincing to come out of the shadows. He did a few remote freelance jobs with a couple of old clients who wanted something quick and easy.

But even as he sat in his room, every available surface covered in his various computers and tablets, eyes flickering across the screens and fingers dancing across the keyboard, part of his mind was always on Dylan. Wishing he could be with him or recalling a moment they had spent together. His scent haunted Blake. It seemed to be permanently lurking in his nose, teasing his senses and calling out to him. He couldn’t get rid of it and couldn’t shake it, nor did he want to. Yet being teased by his scent all day did nothing to lessen the impact when he saw Dylan in person, when his fresh, spicy, sweet scent washed over Blake and left him weak at the knees.

He was confident enough in himself to admit that he had it bad. Really bad. He was a lovesick puppy following around on Dylan’s heels through the halls of the castle, nipping at him for attention and wagging his tail endlessly.

It seemed once he stopped letting denial and guilt keep him from accepting the truth, the fact that he was inexplicably and incredibly drawn to Dylan, he lost all sense of control. The flood gates had been opened, and everything Blake had been trying to suppress surged out to drown him.

He still had no memory of Dylan, nor did he have any lingering attachments from the years they supposedly spent together. Late at night, in the privacy and darkness of his room, he tried to tentatively find the bond Dylan insisted they had. A mateship bond, strong enough to not only pass awareness, but emotions through. A bond that strong was rare, and surely part of it had to remain despite the memory spell. But all Blake could find was a cold hollow, hidden deep within his chest. It was a void, an absence, and his mind shied away from it when he tried to examine it closer. It might have been where the bond once resided, but now it was nothing more than a hollow scar.

Blake once thought this meant he was free, that he could move on with his life with nothing but lingering guilt and a determination to continue onward. He didn’t think there was anything still holding him to Dylan. And while that might have been true, he didn’t anticipate falling for him all over again.

He didn’t anticipate how his heart would flutter when they made eye contact, or how his knees would go weak whenever the omega smiled. He didn’t anticipate the thrill that wracked through him with a surging warmth whenever they teased and bantered, nor did he anticipate the way his body would tingle and spark whenever they touched.

Being near him made Blake calmer. It eased the anxiousness that his inner wolf felt whenever Dylan was out of his sight. The omega’s scent calmed him and lulled him in ways he didn’t think were possible, let alone ways that he needed.

Acceptance was a powerful thing, and apparently it turned him into a lovesick pup.

It was downright embarrassing, and he might have actually felt the shame had it not been for the way Dylan preened at the attention. The omega smiled more. Those pretty little secretive smiles, with the dancing mischief in his eyes and a soft fondness that he couldn’t quite hide. He laughed more, soft and breathy. He teased Blake, with words and casual touches, exposing his neck and swaying his hips when he knew the alpha was watching.

Being on the receiving end of those looks was enough to erase any sort of embarrassment Blake might have felt.

* * *

“Checkmate!” Lily straightened, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin proudly. She knelt on her chair to give her the leverage needed to reach across the table and the chess board.

“That’s not...” Dylan trailed off, brow furrowing and lips pursing into an adorable pout. He put an elbow on the table, leaning over the board, eyes flickering across the pieces, idly rubbing his fingers together as he thought. “That’s not possible. No way.”

“It’s entirely possible,” Blake said with no small amount of pride. He didn’t even try to hide his smugness as he grinned, meeting Dylan’s narrowed glare. He sat at the table between the other two so he had a sideways view of the board. He idly bounced Adrien on his lap, entertaining him with a few of his toys. “It’s possible, and it’s accurate. She’s got you in a checkmate.” Lily beamed at him, and he gave her a little wink. “Well played.”

“You helped her,” Dylan said, pointing a threatening finger at Blake and narrowing his eyes.

Blake merely shook his head, grin fixed in place. “Sorry, man. I taught her the game, and I played with her to teach her strategies, but I didn’t touch this game.”

Dylan groaned and dropped his head to the table, shaking the pieces enough to make a few of them fall. “I can’t believe my daughter beat me.”

“She’s a smart girl. You should be proud. I know I am.”

Lily put a hand on the table, leaning forward to grab her piece and use it to knock Dylan’s king over. “The king has fallen!”

“She gets this from you.” Dylan’s voice was muffled by the table.

“And I couldn’t be more proud.”

Dylan sighed, lifting his head and leaning back in his chair. His smile was small, but genuine as he looked at their daughter. “Well played, Lily. You did good.”

She grinned, wide and toothy. “I kicked your butt, Daddy!”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t get cocky. We’re having a rematch.” He checked the watch on his wrist, frowning. “Tomorrow. I need to get ready for work.” He stood, stepping around the table to put an affectionate hand on Lily’s shoulder and bend over to kiss the top of her head. “You be good for your papa.”

“I will,” she said, already reaching for the chess pieces and setting them back up in their original positions.

“You sure you’re alright watching them for the night?” Dylan turned to him, a slight frown on his lips. “I won’t be done until late, and you’ll need to make sure they eat and put them to bed.”

Blake knew the grave tone of his voice had everything to do with parental worry and nothing to do with his own incompetence. He merely smiled. “Of course, I’m sure. It’ll be fine. I’m their father, too.” Dylan gave him a dubious look, and Blake rolled his eyes. “You once said I was a natural at this, so it’s probably not all gone, right? If I have any trouble, there are plenty of people around to help. Now go.”

Dylan sighed, stepping over and bending at the waist to press a soft kiss to Adrien’s head.

As he straightened, Blake grinned, eyes twinkling dangerously. “Do I get one, too?”

Dylan only rolled his eyes, playfully shoving Blake’s head. “Don’t push your luck.” He turned and headed across the room. Blake stopped him as he opened the door.

“Hey, Dylan?”

He half turned, one eyebrow raised.

“The blood moon is coming up,” Blake said, dangling a toy in his hand and making Adrien giggle as he grasped for it. He kept his eyes, however, on Dylan, half lidded and intense. His voice was casual, but there was a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Run with me?”

The tilt to Dylan’s lips was slight. Barely enough to be seen had he not been looking for it. “We’ll see.”

* * *

When Dylan returned from patrol that night, Adrien and Lily had already been put to bed. Lily slept in her bed, while the gentle rhythm of Adrien’s breaths came from his crib across the room. Blake sat on the couch in the small sitting area of his old room, the one his family now occupied. He sat in the dark with his phone in his hand, feet propped up on the coffee table.

It was strange being in here again. All his memories of this room throughout the past few years were of him being alone, yet the vast room seemed warmer and far more homey with the soft breaths of his children and the scent of them and Dylan all wrapped up together.

He heard Dylan’s boots in the quiet of the hallway, and he slipped out to greet him. “Hey,” he said, gently shutting the door behind him.

Dylan blinked in surprise, but a small tired smile graced his lips. “Hey. Everything go okay?”

“Perfect. They’re little angels.”

Dylan’s head tilted to the side, smile curving into a smirk. “Angels? You sure those are our kids you’re talking about?”

“Alright, so Adrien is a little feisty, but Lily’s still on her best behavior around me. I think she still wants to impress me.” He could see it in the way she acted. Whenever she started to get too wound up, she would stop herself. It was a visible restraint and he could clearly see the fight in her features. She reined herself in, being as polite and helpful as she could. It broke his heart that she was trying to prove herself worthy of a father who didn’t remember her.

Judging from the way Dylan’s expression crumbled, he knew it too.

“Here,” he said quickly, pulling the makeshift flower from behind his back and presenting it to Dylan with a flourish. The distraction worked. He blinked, adorable confusion replacing the melancholy.

“What’s this?”

“A rose.”

“That’s not a rose.”

“It’s as close as I’m gonna get in the dead of winter.” The rose itself was made out of nothing but colored duct tape and a little wire to help the stem keep its shape. The petals were red, the stem was green, and he’d even decorated it with tiny thorns. “I may or may not have shown Lily how to make these, so you’ll no doubt receive more in the future.”

Dylan gingerly took it from him, looking over it as if it were made of glass. “Why a rose?”

“For one, it’s easy to make. And for two,” he reached out, slipping a finger under Dylan’s chin, lifting his face to meet his eyes, “It’s fitting. You’re a rose.”

Dylan’s face scrunched up, nose wrinkling and lip curling. “I am not…”

“You are. You’re beautiful and strong. You stand on your own two feet, putting those around you to shame. You cover yourself with thorns, warding off others, so that only those with proper patience and respect can handle you with the care needed.” He let his hand drop, slipping both of them into his pockets as he leaned back. Dylan was gaping at him, a bright flush burning on his cheeks. Blake smiled. “Goodnight, Dylan.”

He turned and made his way down the hallway, and he felt Dylan’s eyes on him until he turned the corner.

* * *

They developed a pattern in the following weeks. Blake spent his meals in the mess hall at the new table with Dylan and their kids, their friends mingling happily and easily around them. He had work to do, and he spent time with the witches and his close packmates, but other than that, all his free time was spent trailing after Dylan. He was a pup at his heels.

Dylan, thankfully, didn’t mind. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the attention, a certain spark of relief and excitement entering his eyes whenever Blake found him.

They managed to find some time alone. Blake caught him a few times just before or after his patrol or training shift. They walked together in the snow, which seemed to always devolve into some sort of snowball fight, wrestling match, or race. They caught quiet moments together after their kids had gone to sleep, voices hushed in the dead of night as they spoke of memories, or when their kids were napping, sprawled comfortably in a room with a fire burning in the hearth and the snow falling outside.

Blake started taking up the duty of watching Lily and Adrien whenever Dylan had work to attend to. At least, he tried to do so whenever he got time away from his own work. He managed to make it work most days, and the soft look Dylan gave him when he thought Blake wasn’t looking was worth any inconvenience. And if he was honest, he actually looked forward to spending time with his kids. He could see pieces of himself in them, could smell hints of himself in their scents. He may not remember them, but he knew on an instinctual level that they were his.

The worst part, however, was leaving at the end of the day.

With the kids tucked into bed, Dylan getting drowsy, and his own eyelids growing heavy, Blake had to say goodbye. He had to excuse himself and slip out of the cozy room, out into the quiet hallway and make his way back to his own room. His new room had been comfortable when he arrived, but now it was too cramped, too formal, and too cold. It smelled of dust and fabric. It didn’t smell of home.

He wasn’t a fool. He caught sight of Dylan’s lingering glances and the longing hidden behind the stern frowns. He saw the way the omega looked from him to the bed, and he knew if he pushed, if he asked, Dylan would give in and let him stay. But he never pushed, and he never asked. He wanted to. Holy hell, did he want to. But he knew the time wasn’t right.

Soon, he told himself as he made his way back to his own cold room every night. Soon.

* * *

Blake couldn’t say exactly when things started to change, but he knew it had to do with the approaching blood moon.

It was nothing obvious. Nothing changed in the words they said to each other, and few things changed in their established routine. It was nothing on the surface, but it was in the intent behind their smiles. It was a hum beneath Blake’s skin. It was an electricity and spark beneath their touches, sending jolts of molten heat coiling into his core.

It was in the intensity of Dylan’s stare, the swirling depths of want he saw behind his hazel irises, and the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long. It was in the way Dylan started to hold himself: taller and straighter, more confident and stronger. He flaunted himself in ways omegas were known to. He put himself on display, calling attention to his neck, the curve of his back, and the stretch of his legs. More than once, Blake caught him scratching his chest, purposefully pulling up his shirt just when he knew Blake would be looking.

His scent was sweeter, richer, and with an edge of something sharper. The spicy edge of cinnamon. It left a burn at the back of Blake’s throat whenever he got a deep breath of it. His touches lingered too long, firm enough to be deliberate but light enough to be teasing. He touched when there was no reason to, brushing up against Blake in ways that could be considered innocent if he hadn’t known any better.

The worst of it, however, was his smile. A toothy wolf’s grin of a smirk that curled the edges of his lips whenever he teased Blake, no matter how slight. It was a predatory thing. It was coy, heated, and alluring. It was challenging and sly. It made shivers run down Blake’s spine as heat curled low in his gut. It made growls rumble deep in his chest. It made his heart race and his skin feel as if it had been set ablaze.

And judging from the look in Dylan’s eyes, he knew exactly what he was doing to Blake, and he reveled in it.

Blake knew he was no better. He could feel the predator in him react to Dylan’s playful advances. His own gazes lingered, making no effort to hide the way his eyes raked up and down Dylan’s body or the way his own touches strayed a little too far and used a little too much pressure. He often positioned himself close to Dylan, hovering over him, using any excuse to press up against him. He knew his own scent was enhanced and thick with alpha intentions.

A few of their friends made fun of them, making gagging sounds and rolling their eyes when the two of them stared too long or rumbled deep words with obvious intentions. But Blake knew they weren’t the only ones. The blood moon was affecting the whole pack. Couples and mates were feeling the same intense tug toward one another, driven by primal urges and the beasts they kept inside, rising to the surface.

No matter how bad Blake and Dylan were, Arulean and Rajiah were far, far worse. The intensity rolled off them in waves whenever they were near, only succeeding in riling up Blake’s own wolf and bringing it closer to the surface.

Blake was only grateful no other alphas made moves toward Dylan. He knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind to be able to resist a fight to protect what he wanted, what he considered his. And Blake knew by the narrowed glances, soft growls and protective touches that Dylan felt much the same as he glared at any unmated omega who came too close to Blake.

It was a subtle change, but it was one that came on slowly and surely. Steady like the tides. As the blood moon approached, a fire grew in their veins.

* * *

On the morning of the blood moon, Blake woke feeling an itch beneath his skin.

It was an undercurrent of energy. It couldn’t be seen, touched, smelled or heard, but it sure as hell could be felt. Every shifter could feel the press and sway of the moon. It buzzed through their veins and called the most primal parts of themselves to the surface. It roused bestial instincts deep within them. It was a restlessness itch, it was a consuming hunger for the most basic of animal instincts that couldn’t and wouldn’t be satisfied until day fell and night rose.

It wasn’t anything new. The day leading up to the full moon tended to make them feel out of place in their human bodies, and the blood moon even more so. This time, however, there was something more to it. He woke up feeling agitated and restless, more so than usual. The wolf prowled beneath his skin, muscles coiling and rolling beneath his flesh. He woke with a growl in his throat as he found his bed empty, his alpha already seeking the omega he knew he wouldn’t find.

Dylan’s scent clung to the dirty clothes that littered his floor, the scent subtle and slight, but made stronger by the heightened senses that came with the full moon. Blake could smell his scent, teasing and taunting, making his hackles rise and heat simmer beneath his skin.

He took a cold shower, hoping to cool down the instincts that were rising to the surface. It was a poor attempt to keep his head about him but it worked, to a certain extent. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands until it hurt, using the sharpness of the pain to help ground him.

By the time he’d dressed and made his way down to the mess hall, he was feeling much more in control. That control flew out the window the moment he stepped into the room and his eyes instantly locked onto Dylan, drawn to his presence as he always was.

The mess hall was busy, and the shifters there were restless. The crowd moved and writhed incessantly, unable to keep still. They all felt the tug of the moon and the press of their instincts, and a blood moon only heightened everything. They ate, ravenous and with insatiable appetites. He could smell the meat being served in larger quantities today. Meat, eggs and dairy. All cooked to only just beyond the point of being raw.

He hungered, stomach grumbling, but he hungered for something else far more.

He leaned against the large door frame, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His eyes were locked onto Dylan. The omega sat at their usual table, surrounded by their usual friends even though some of them were missing. Specifically the mated ones. Blake knew it would take them longer to make it down to eat. Adrien and Lily were with him, and they looked just as restless as the adults. Though neither of them would shift until puberty, he knew from experience the moon would still affect them, either they would simply feel the energy in the air or sense it with some instinctual part of them.

People passed by him, walking through the wide-open double doors. He could feel a few of their stares, but they said nothing. They could no doubt smell and feel the intent rolling off him in waves. He knew for certain he wasn’t being subtle about it. It simmered in the air around him. It pulsed from his core in waves. He’d waited and watched and patiently courted Dylan for weeks. Now, with the blood moon calling to him on the horizon, he knew he was done waiting.

He knew what he wanted. His body knew what it wanted. His alpha knew what it wanted. His wolf knew what it wanted. Together they growled out a simultaneous chorus of Dylan.

Time ticked by slowly. He felt each second slide slowly and steadily over his shoulders like thick molasses. The wolf in him paced, restless and eager, but the predator in him held him still. Silently stalking his prey. Waiting for the moment he was noticed.

He didn’t know how long he waited, but he saw the exact moment Dylan realized his presence. The omega stiffened, shoulders squaring and spine straightening. For just a moment, his body was rigid, and then all at once, it relaxed. His shoulders slumped and his head lolled to the side in a fluid, languid movement that had Blake’s heart thumping wildly in his chest.

The omega half turned, making eye contact with Blake over his shoulder. His eyes were dark and lidded, intense as they held Blake captive. For several long moments, neither of them moved. Blake barely dared to breathe. His intention was clear. He knew that Dylan knew. Now he simply needed to wait for the omega’s decision.

Dylan looked him up and down, gaze making slow progress as it raked him from head to toe. When their eyes met again, Dylan smirked. It was small and slight, barely visible from across the room. But Blake felt it with a shuddering thrill that wracked down his spine.

Then Dylan turned away, leaning over Lily to speak with the witches. Cynthia and Jesse blinked owlishly, leaning around Dylan to stare obviously at the open doorway where Blake stood. He nodded at them. Jesse looked away quickly, but Cynthia grinned, wide and toothy. They spoke words that Blake could not hear, and then Cynthia reached out to ruffle Lily’s hair while Jesse reached out to take Adrien.

Then Dylan stood, meal abandoned, and made his way across the mess hall. His steps were slow and measured, hips and shoulders rolling with his body. It was wild, primal, and predatory. Another shudder ran through Blake as Dylan’s eyes locked onto his, weaving through the crowd with fluid grace, body rolling with hidden strength. He wasn’t an omega to flaunt himself or tease and submit. He was an omega who was strong and independent, set on taking what he wanted. And right now, he was the predator, and Blake was the prey.

Dylan didn’t pause as he passed, but time seemed to slow as Blake’s eyes followed him. Dylan smirked, walking by without touching but just close enough for Blake to feel the air brush past him. The omega’s scent filled his nose, spicy and sweet, full of hunger and primal want.

And then he was gone, walking down the hall without so much as a word. Blake cast one last look at their table, seeing several of their friends watching. Benjamin and Cynthia gave him a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes and turned, pushing off the doorframe and shoving his hands into his pockets as he trailed after Dylan.

He kept a reasonable distance between them, knowing that if he got too close, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself. And if he started touching the man, he wouldn’t be able to stop. So he trailed behind, eyes dragging along the omega’s body, admiring the strength in his shoulders and the lean muscles of his back. His gaze lingered on his hips, his ass and his thighs, warmth stirring within him. Dylan’s pace never faltered, steady and purposeful. He walked with his head held high, visibly preening at the alpha’s attention.

They drew a few stares as they walked, but they both ignored them. They knew their intention was clear as day, broadcasted and proud, but it was nothing unusual on the day of a full moon. The entire castle was buzzing with and smelled of similar intent. The primal instincts of their bestial forms were rising to the surface, filling them with the need to hunt, to eat, to run, and to mate.

Dylan led him up the stairs, one hand trailing along the railing as he went. He led him to the third floor and along the familiar path to their room. Not Blake’s new room, cold, small and lonely. But their room. The room that held a past Blake couldn’t remember, as well as several memories he now cherished. Blake trailed after him dutifully, caught between his own instincts as a predator stalking its prey and those of a hopelessly loyal pup.

Dylan opened the door and walked in without so much as a backward glance. Blake followed him into the room, stopping just inside and slowly closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Dylan paused just long enough to kick off his shoes, knocking them to the side before continuing on. He stopped when he reached the foot of the bed, and that was where he finally turned. He stood there, still as stone, watching Blake with a challenge sparking in his eyes alongside a dark, haunting need.

Blake moved forward, kicking off his shoes and striding across the room without breaking their locked gaze. Dylan’s scent was heavy in the room, lingering in every nook and cranny, filling Blake’s senses and making him feel dizzy. Dylan didn’t move as he approached, only tilting his chin to continue to hold eye contact as Blake stopped in front of him, mere inches separating them.

And for a moment, they simply breathed, soft panting breaths heated and mingling between them before the need to touch and to feel became too strong to resist.

Blake reached out, hand resting on Dylan’s hip, thumb dipping beneath the hem of his shirt to rub against taut, soft skin stretched over his hip bone. Dylan’s eyelids fluttered for a moment, and Blake could feel how his breath hitched. He smiled, small and slight, and saw the way it was mirrored in Dylan’s eyes.

His hand moved to smooth out over Dylan’s stomach beneath his shirt, feeling the defining bumps and curves of his abs, drifting across the line of hair that dipped below the waist of his pants. His hand moved up, palm flat and firm against flesh, fingers spread wide. As he moved his hand up Dylan’s chest, his shirt came with it, revealing an expanse of sun-kissed skin, stretched over defined muscles, dotted lightly with copper hair. His skin was warm, quivering beneath Blake’s palm. His hand stopped when his fingertips rested on his collarbones, feeling the rapid beat of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest.

“Tell me if you don’t want this,” he said in a rush of air as he breathed out, voice barely above a low growl.

Dylan tilted his head a little to the side, chin lifting to expose his throat. It should have been a submissive gesture, but it only came across as a challenge. A small smirk tugged at his lips. “If I didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be touching me right now.”

There was danger lurking in his voice, and a growl of his own that backed up his threat. A shiver ran through Blake, one of excitement and anticipation. His other hand moved forward, sliding up Dylan’s chest as he reveled in the feel of his flesh before roughly tugging off his shirt, casting it to the ground at their feet.

Goosebumps rose on Dylan’s skin, but Blake knew they weren’t from the cold. One hand slid further up his chest, around his neck to cup the back of his head. He tugged him forward, leaning down to close the space between them, sealing it with a kiss.

Blake didn’t have many memories of kissing Dylan, and all of them were tainted with a coiling sense of unease and the bile of guilt on his tongue. That isn’t to say kissing Dylan hadn’t been enjoyable, but he hadn’t felt anything besides his body’s natural reaction to a pliable soft omega beneath his lips.

This time was different. Dylan was still soft, but he was anything but pliable.

This time it was driven by his own desire and an uncontrollable urge to touch him, to be near him, to claim him. There was no guilt in his heart and the shadows in his mind had been chased away. Dylan’s mouth was warm beneath his, lips chapped but eager. The omega pushed up into him, hands coming to rest on Blake’s shoulders as he tilted his head, slotting their lips firmly together.

Their kiss was all teeth and tongue, and while he was panting, he felt like he could finally breathe for the first time in weeks. He gathered Dylan into his arms, holding him firmly against his chest while the omega melted into him. It was good. Touching him was fantastic. Tasting him was better. But the itch still lingered annoyingly beneath his skin, even with warmth cascading through him. Simply holding the omega like this was only a relief for so long, and he needed more.

He broke their kiss only to trail his lips along Dylan’s jaw and down his neck. Rough bites and playful nibbles followed immediately by soft lips and tender kisses to soothe the brief sting away. Dylan gasped, fingers curling into Blake’s shirt as he tilted his head to the side, freely allowing Blake to do as he willed. He ducked his head, sucking and leaving marks along Dylan’s collarbone before he dropped to his knees.

Dylan blinked, confusion clouding his lidded eyes as he looked down at him, hands still hovering in the air where Blake had been. Blake merely smirked up at him, fingers deftly unbuttoning his pants and dipping into the waistband to pull them down as his lips trailed along Dylan’s stomach, tongue tracing tantalizingly along his abs. Dylan’s breath hitched as Blake roughly pulled both pants and boxers down over his thighs. Hands braced themselves on his shoulders as he helped Dylan step out of his clothes, tossing them aside as his lips trailed along his hip bone.

Blake’s hands rubbed up and down Dylan’s thighs, admiring the thickness and strength of them. Muscles quivered and twitched beneath his touch. He ran his lips from hip bone to hip bone, light and teasing just below his navel. He could feel Dylan’s hardness hanging heavy between his legs, twitching and brushing against Blake’s throat. He smirked, taking time to suck a deep purple mark just inside his left hip bone, just to watch him squirm.

When fingers tangled into his hair, squeezing lightly in both a warning and a plea, Blake moved from his hip, dipping lower. He took Dylan lightly in his hand, loving the way the omega hissed and tensed. He flattened his tongue, licking long and slow up the underside of him before suckling lightly on the head. Dylan’s hips twitched, jerking forward and seeking the warm heat of Blake’s mouth.

Blake pulled off him, hands on Dylan’s hips as he pushed him firmly back against the mattress, holding him steady. Dylan whined, high and pitiful in his throat, fingers gripping tight into his hair. Blake chuckled low in his throat, which only earned him an impatient whine crossed with a growl and another tug at his hair. He lowered his head once again. This time, he wasted no time. He swallowed Dylan down to the base, choking down his own gag reflex and reveling in the gasp and moan from above.

He was heavy on his tongue, his taste salty and intense, his scent sweet and spicy. Blake hollowed out his cheeks as he pulled back, sucking on him hard, hands holding Dylan still as he struggled and squirmed in his grip. A high-pitched keen ripped from the omega’s throat, cut off and ragged as if he were trying to hold it back. And after glancing upward to get a glimpse of that flushed, twisted expression, teeth biting lips and eyes squeezed shut, Blake was certain that was exactly the case.

Blake’s mouth worked him tauntingly slow, one hand holding his base, while the other hand reached into his own pocket, fumbling to retrieve the small bottle he had grabbed before leaving his room. He’d known since he woke up exactly what he wanted, and he’d come prepared.

Grabbing one of Dylan’s thighs, he lifted the leg to prop it up over his shoulder, taking a moment to nuzzle into the soft flesh of his inner thigh, nipping at it playfully before soothing the bite marks with soft kisses. He popped the lid of the small lube bottle, spreading the liquid out over his fingertips and rubbing them together to coat them.

His mouth returned to Dylan’s member as his fingers prodded gently at his entrance.

He was tight, muscles clenching automatically, a soft gasp escaping his lips. Blake pulled off him, lips still pressed along his shaft as he murmured, “Relax for me, babe.” His voice was rough and low, his own primal lust rising to the surface, but there was a level of soothing patience that came with his alpha instincts. It was an inherent need to soothe his omega, to chase away the unease and take care of him.

Dylan did relax, slowly at first, and then all at once. He slumped back against the edge of the bed, fingers loosening in Blake’s hair to weave and comb through the strands lazily. He didn’t say anything, but there was a low rumbling in his throat, an encouraging purr. Blake rubbed his entrance gently until it relaxed, and then he pushed a finger inside.

He took his time with Dylan, as much as his ever-diminishing patience and ever-rising hunger would allow. He explored him thoroughly, stretching him slowly and making a point to find all the little things that made him come undone. When he could tell the omega was coming close to the edge, he removed his mouth from Dylan’s erection, chuckling lowly at the whine of protest. He trailed kisses along his skin instead, leaving mottled purple marks all along his soft, inner thighs, hips, and stomach while his fingers worked him relentlessly.

By the time Blake was three fingers in, Dylan was a mess above him. His breathing came in heavy pants, fingers restless as they alternated between combing through Blake’s hair, tugging on it, and nails grasping at his shoulders. His legs quivered and without the bed behind him, Blake was certain he’d be unable to stand.

Blake spread his fingers wide, glancing up the length of Dylan’s body to meet the lidded eyes of the omega. He grinned, wolfish, hungry, and wide, and he could feel the involuntary shudder that ran through Dylan. His chest, neck, and face were flushed. His lips were kiss swollen and red, slightly parted and glistening wetly as he panted. Purple and red marks were blossoming on his collar bones.

He was beautiful.

“Blake,” he breathed, voice ragged and hoarse. Blake hummed questioningly, playfully dragging his lips down Dylan’s inner thigh again, holding eye contact. “Please.”

And that was all it took for Blake’s patience to crack and shatter.

He pulled his fingers out, heat in his gut flaring at the sound of Dylan’s needy whine of protest. He coated himself with lube before standing. His knees ached, legs stiff and sore from being on the floor, but he pushed through the pain. The need and hunger swirling in his gut were far, far more urgent. He held Dylan’s gaze as he grabbed beneath his thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he lifted the man off the ground. The omega’s arms wrapped automatically around his shoulders, clinging to him desperately.

Blake then crawled onto the bed, lowering Dylan onto his back and hovering over him. The omega still clung to him, legs and arms wound tight, refusing to let Blake go until he got what he wanted. Blake could see the haze of hunger and need in his eyes. The depths of it in his scent was dizzying, thick, and sweet on his tongue and spicy with heat at the back of his throat.

Dylan met his gaze steadily, tilting his head and bearing his throat in a way that again should have been submissive, but the glint in his eyes and the curl of his lips was anything but. It was predatory and purposeful, making Blake feel as if he’d fallen into the omega’s trap, yet he felt no desire to be set free. It was thrilling to be challenged, to have all the power and yet none at all. Dylan’s fingers dug into the meat of his shoulders, thighs squeezing his hips and his waist. Blake hovered over him, looking for all the world like a dominating alpha, but he knew it was Dylan who caged him from below. There was a possessiveness in his touch, and Blake found it thrilling.

He lined himself up at Dylan’s entrance, feeling the way he shifted and quivered against him. A challenge flashed in Dylan’s eyes, and Blake smirked, driving forward with a relentless thrust, burying himself deep in the omega.

Dylan’s back arched, body stiffening as his eyes went wide. Blake bent forward and captured his lips in a profound kiss, swallowing his gasp. Dylan moaned deep in his throat and Blake growled in response. He kissed him roughly and without mercy, all tongue, teeth and hunger as Dylan squirmed and writhed beneath him, giving back as good as he got. Blunt nails clawed at his back, urging him to move, silently begging him to.

Once he began, Blake knew he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop, and he didn’t think Dylan wanted to either. His hips moved of their own accord, driving himself into the omega over and over again. He was driven by a deep-seated lust, a primal part of him urging him to take and to claim, brought to the surface by the approaching blood moon. Dylan was tight around him, hot and wet. He whined and moaned beneath him, hands clawing restlessly at his back and shoulders.

He was beautiful and he was strong. He was an omega, and he was Blake’s.

He drove into him relentlessly, chasing his own pleasure and seeking out Dylan’s. Dylan’s hips moved restlessly, eagerly rising to meet each of Blake’s thrusts until they found a rhythm. Blake’s lips left Dylan’s, moving down to his neck as the omega arched his back, throwing his head back into the pillows. Blake buried his face in the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling his scent gland and lips trailing along his throat.

Their minds too senseless to form words. They chased their pleasure as beasts might, with growls and moans, whines and keens, heavy breaths panting from kiss-swollen lips, fingers digging into flesh, biting into skin. They marked each other, desperate to claim and to take.

Heat coiled low in Blake’s gut, building and building, until it was a raging storm within him that couldn’t be quelled. He bit down on Dylan’s scent gland, rough and desperate, latching on tight as his thrusts became sporadic, nearing his climax. Dylan cried out, nails tearing into flesh. Blake had enough presence of mind to grab onto Dylan’s member, stroking him roughly and quickly with each thrust.

Dylan’s scent filling his nose and his taste on his tongue, the omega’s limbs clinging to him desperately and his heat surrounding him, Blake came, feeling Dylan’s own climax tighten around him, spilling out onto his chest. They rocked together through their high, and Blake collapsed on top of him.

Breaths heavy and chests heaving, Dylan’s hands moved gently through his hair while Blake nuzzled his neck, licking and kissing gently at the dark mark he had made. One word repeated in his mind, spoken with the deep rumbled chorus of man, alpha, and beast: mine.