A Life Not Spent with You

This story has some non-consent appearing here and there: If you don't like such things, please don't read. Other than that, enjoy!

-Rinique

*************************

They howled even though they hadn't shifted forms, the sound sharp and frightening, raising hairs on the back of his neck. Leaping over a decaying log, covered in moss and mushrooms, Damien looked to his right, sensing movement. In the distance, he saw one of the females crashing through the brush, her path would collide into his a few hundred yards ahead. Crushing vegetation underfoot, the young werewolf held his side where a jagged branch had sliced his side, drawing blood.

Dammit!

Cursing mentally as crimson liquid spilled over his fingers, he put everything into running; his chasers would smell the blood, their senses finely tuned even while in human form.

"Da-mi-en! Where are you? Come out, little puppy!" A male called out in a sing-song voice, somewhere behind him. Another to his left was taunting him, long grass swaying as a body forced a way through. Sweat shining on his ivory face, Damien followed his path, fighting down his panic. If they caught him before he made it to where he was supposed to meet his lover...

"Gotcha!" Rico, the third in command, suddenly burst from the bushes infront of him, tackling him to the ground. Shrieking, Damien kicked at the wolf, pleading as he tried to get away. Teeth snapped, seeking any part of his flesh, trying claiming him as mate. Scuffling in the dirt path, his wrists were pressed against the ground, keeping him down.

"No! NO!" Placing one well-aimed hit to the groin, Damien then stood, covered in forest, and sped away.

A chilling, resonating howl sounded behind him; turning to the right on the well-trodden trail, Damien gave a shaky laugh of relief, his destination near. Ivan would meet him at a cul-de-sac, veering off the path and ending in a blocked off area with plenty of things to hid behind. If another wolf came his way, he'd escape through a earth hole, dug the day before in preparation of his run.

It was a pack ritual where the werewolf that wished to find a mate would run and whoever bit the runner first would become their partner. In this case, Damien ran from the other wolves, hoping that his already lover would find him first. They had shared each other's bodies yet never made love, forbidden unless they were marked and mates. It looked like they'd manage...

Finally, a small path headed to the left into a sheltered part of the forest; turning, Damien began to slow, breathless. Ivan wasn't there yet so, as they decided yesterday, the young one hid behind a huge log, fungus plants growing on the rotting wood aiding in his camouflage.

Ivan...Please hurry...

Unable to draw any strength, he swayed as he knelt, still gasping for breath. Their only chance. With a shaking smile, he ran fingers around the circle of gold on his ring finger, caressing the smooth surface.

* * *

"Sweetheart," A ring was slid on his finger, gold and engraved with his lover's intials. Staring at it, dark eyes growing wet with tears, Damien touched the band, lips parting with a silent question.

"I'll do my best to get to you first tomorrow...And if...I'll always love you, Damien." Whispered on his lips, his lover captured his mouth in a searing kiss, muffling the sobs that began. If things didn't work out, they'd be separated and never again hold one another again.

* * *

This was the only way they could be together, him and Ivan. To be claimed as someone else's and have a relationship with another could earn him death for infidelity. Werewolves mated for life. Brown orbs warmed at such a thought of him and Ivan being lovers for life, to wake up next to each other. He had been 18 when they had first met, and two years of cuddling and loving, brought them here to try to become true lovers. Shaking his head, he noticed leaves caught within his shaggy black hair. Sweeping some of his locks over a slim shoulder, he began to free leaves and twigs.

Running full out, Ivan turned down the path, praying with all of his heart that Damien was there and unmarked. The howls were growing closer - did they smell the blood too? - and above the cul-de-sac ahead, was a grassy cliff. Some of the pack were scaling down trees and vines to where Damien should be hiding. With a final spurt of speed, he entered the small clearing, coming to the path's end. Moss-covered rocks blocked him off any further, trees siding the cliff while bushes flanked in varying lengths. The area was bathed in moonlight, casting everything in a gentle blue,

"Damien?"

The English accent called out for him to answer, drawing closer. Standing too quickly, Damien fell back on the ground once more with a nervous giggle,

"Ivan! Gods, I was afraid you'd-" He gave a warning cry, racing to try and stop another werewolf as it emerged from a large clump of bushes, hand ready to cast a blow to Ivan.

"Ivan! No!" Tripping over something, he braced himself, arms spread, catching his wolf before they both fell onto the ground. Dirt rose in choking clouds, musty with the scent of mold and earth, brown eyes squeezed shut at the irratating grains.

"What a good little puppy you were to wait for me." His body began to tremble in fear, tearing eyes raising from the ground to fall upon a towering wolf. He was nameless, but Damien was certain it was one of the enforcers that kept the pack in line. Gathering Ivan in his arms as best as he could, the smaller wolf tried to drag him from out of the intimadating shadow of the chaser,

"I didn't know where you'd be so I followed this idiot, and I'm glad I did..." Stalking forwards, the wolf leered at him, adjusting his belt, a hunger alive in his cold gaze. Frantic fingers parted the unconsious Ivan's lips, tried to force his lover's mouth to open in hopes to have him break his skin to mark them.

"I-Ivan! Please! O-open your-

No!

" Abandoning Ivan, the younger struggled to get to his feet, kicking up dirt. Half-blind, he ignored his stinging eyes as he made for the dug hole which was far too small for the larger wolf. He could faintly hear the sound of a zipper parting, the crunch of twigs under foot, the laughing and taunts; the sound of his pounding heart was louder. Throwing himself on his stomach, Damien scuttled forwards, nearly diving into the ground. Intense relief swelled in his chest, the shaking that had started fading as more of him disappeared in the- a large hand grabbed his ankle, dragging him back out.

"No! No! Let me go! P-please!" Dirt scraped under his fingernails as he desperately grabbed for anything to pull himself away but the tunnel walls had no hand-holds of any kind. Kicking his legs furiously, the young wolf grabbed at a root protruding above the dug hole which he was extracted from. His foot met the enforcer with a sickly crunch,

"Fuck! You little bitch!" With a snarl, the wolf threw the younger down onto the ground, elicting a cry from Damien. Now crying with fear, brown faltered as they dared to meet the smoldering green of his chaser.

"P-please, why are you doing this?" Fighting down sobs, he began to crawl backwards, held tilted up as he pleaded thickly. "I-I love Ivan, please, I don't even know you! Please!"

"I love it when they beg."

Grabbed by his hair, Damien screamed in pain as he was flung away from the cliff wall he had been edging back against. Dirt rose once more, drying his throat even more as terror reigned. Shouting his protests, he tried to get back onto his feet as a knee pressed into his back, forcing him down on his stomach. Lashes were wet with tears as his clothes were ripped from his body, face darkening with shame as he continued to struggle. His blind blows hit but the larger wolf paid no heed to whatever damage, if any, and suddenly lifted his hips off the ground.

A sobbing cry escaped him, his body thrashing to get free - this was so wrong. He wasn't fast enough, he was't quick enough for Ivan. The mating ritual was always true - it was to test to see if lovers were worthy of each other. To seek and find, surpassing all trials. And he failed miserably. Freezing cold hands gripped his hips, tugged them back.

"Don't! Please! Oh Gods, don't!

I-DON'T-WANT-TO-BE-WITH-YOU-FOR-THE-R-REST-OF-MY-LIFE!!!

" His screams rapidly became a piercing shriek, every thing going into that one sound of utter defeat. Spine bowing, he sobbed, clawing at the ground to get away, to maybe turn Ivan's face away. His lover would open his eyes and the first thing he'd see was him being fucked...

"You must want it, you little bitch, you're already moving for me!" The wolf grabbed his wrists and held them back, making the younger bent forwards; without warning, he shoved himself deep inside the other's body. Damien slammed forwards against his restraint, giving a heartrending cry of agony as his shoulders nearly dislocated.

The earlier screams and shouts of Damien had signalled their location, and in within minutes, the rest of the pack had entered the cul-de-sac and stopped there. The loud declaration of Damien brought tears to some eyes, mostly the younger wolves of his age; they hugged the person closest to them and cried silently at the terrible pain given off from the runner. Some glared at the two in envy, some shook their heads sadly, turning their face away at such a terrible but law-abiding act. It was their pack's way.

Sobbing with his cheek pressed against the cold dirt, Damien squeezed his eyes shut, still trying to escape as his ass was forced into the air. Oh Gods, he wanted to die right now, his arms protesting in pain as they were still forced back, locked in the wolf's large hand. Whimpering, the wolf continued to ram his length into him, stabbing at a vicious pace. And if the physical pain wasn't enough, the wolf taunted him. Called him degrading but true names. He was worthless, pathetic, and a fuck tool. That's all he'd ever be now that his dreams of being with Ivan were crushed just as his virginity was.

"Start bucking again, baby, I love your ass!" With a laugh, the wolf dropped his arms; bringing them round with gasps of pain, Damien tried to claw away again, body rocking at the fierce thrusts; after one last attempt, he gave up, falling forwards until his lower body was the only thing in the air, being held by gripping hands, fingernails digging and drawing blood. The crimson trailed down his thighs in rivulets, sliding further as he lurched forwards from the fast, rough pace.

Black, sweaty locks had fallen over onto the ground, surrounding Damien's head like a dark halo. His cheek growing tender as a friction rash formed, he propped up his head in his arms, still begging for mercy in his hoarse voice. The crying had subsided, his sobs starting to quiet until they began with full force, his tearing eyes falling up on his gold band, speckled with dirt. Wailing, he ripped the ring off his finger and threw it with as much strength he could muster before falling plaint against the ground, taking the brutal fucking without further protest.

Dimly, he heard the sounds of crying. A dull throb of pain began on the back of his neck before it grew into something sharp. Wincing, Ivan massaged the spot before easing himself up off the ground.

Damien!

Remembering the mating ritual taking place, he barely got to his feet before fall to his knees in disbelief and overwhelming sadness.

His young lover, lying in the dirt while another took him, claimed him as mate.

No...

A shaking, slender hand rose, covering his mouth as it trembled, his green eyes sparkling with tears. Breathing far too quickly, he swayed as he knelt, lashes falling over pale cheekbones. Bowing his head, blond locks hid his face from view as a few other werewolves came up behind him. He could hear the sobbing of Damien, the disgusting slapping and squelching as another forced himself into his lover, and the jeering talk of the cruel creature. A hand fell to the ground to aid in his balance, landing on something cold and round. Lifting it up, his eyes grew wide, shimmering. It was the ring he gave to Damien the day before, engraved with his initals and marking their love. He began to cry.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come!" The wolf announced, reaching under his rocking body, wrapping around his hardened length. Forgetting to react, Damien rose up onto his arms again, supporting his weight on one hand as he dug his nails into the caressing hand,

"Don't! Don't t-touch me!" He bit back a moan, disgust rising at even having a hard length such debauchery. The hand squeezed at him tightly, coaxingly - choking back another moan, oh gods, his hips were rocking backwards, his ass pushing back. He couldn't help it.

With another wrenching cry, he began to beat the ground with his fists until he collapsed again. Heat curled something low in his stomach, twisting it until it had to spring free. The forced pleasure sent shivers throughout his body, making him move like common whore. The slapping against his backside grew faster as did the hand on his length. The wolf groaned as he released deep inside, grabbing the younger's hair with a free hand and forced back his head. A terrible burning began in Damien's shoulder as another groan sounded against his skin, teeth breaking the soft surface.

"I-Ivan, I'm s-sorry!" Clenching his eyes shut, his hips began to buck before he spilled into the squeezing hand of a complete stranger. After a mumur of approval from his new mate, Damien was tossed forwards, landing on his stomach in the dirt. His shoulder was bleeding from his claim mark, his thighs damp with crimson, and his body violated. Coughing harshly, he found strength and lifted himself in a kneeling position in time to throw up. Starting to sob as he released the contents of his stomach, Damien swayed when it was over and fell to the side on his back.

"Ivan, Ivan, oh Gods...I'm so sorry." His shaking fist pressed to his lips, loosened, the ring nearly falling from his hand. Crying, Ivan watched as his lover, broken in spirit and body, tried to get up, tried to hid himself. Most of the pack hurried forwards, some asking him to grip their arms so he'd be able to stand. Shaking his head numbly, Ivan pulled the speckled ring onto his left ring finger so it mirrored the one on his right. Looking back, he could no longer see Damien, blocked by the many other wolves who tried to help him.

But he could still hear his lover sob, apologize over and over again into the cold night.

*************************************

Miserable cinnamon brown eyes stared blankly at the blankets in front of him. The moonlight that had spilled through the window curtains now vanished, the dark skies slowly becoming dawn.

I-I wonder where Ivan is...

A sobbing breath escaped him as the young wolf tried to carefully free himself from his new mate's crushing grip. Arms constricted around his waist, forcing his body further against the older above him. Damien gripped at the stained sheets, fingers twining into the fabric, gripping as tightly as he could. Choking back threatening sobs, he tried not to move, the other still lying against his back.

"Ivan..." He whispered hoarsely, throat sore from all the crying and pleading he had done hours ago. All the pain radiated with every movement, no matter how minute. But nothing could compare to how shattered his heart felt, driving deep into his soul, newly broken. His first was supposed to be with Ivan, he was supposed to watch the sunrise on his face... Damien's eyes fell shut with a wince, a hand covering his mouth to keep in his pathetic noises.

Some sharp movement roused him from sleep, drawing him slowly into consciousness. He was uncomfortably warm, and his bed was lumpy - had he not found a suitable place to-

There was a young man in his bed, naked and lying underneath him.

"Holy fuck!"

Pushing at the stranger he was slumped against, equally bare of all clothing, Marcel left the bed as quickly as he could. The shock and disbelief grasped him so tightly that the pain from falling off the bed's edge onto the floor barely registered.

"Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my room? My house?" All but screaming at the other, Marcel grabbed at a sheet, fumbling to tie it around his waist while trying to stand. Slipping once, the werewolf began to snarl his discomfort, green eyes darting around the room as if to find some sort of camera to save for a good laugh and prank.

The younger was crying, sobbing into a hand as another weakly pulled blood-stained sheets around his body. The were dragging nail marks all over his body, bites, other wounds that stained the ivory skin.

"Y-ou-you, Last night, you...I-I hurt everywhere!" The rest was broken by weeping and whispers of apologies. Deaf to anything else, Marcel stared at his shaking hands, palms up and marred wtih drid blood.

Oh shit...

Praying he was still dreaming, that this wasn't real, he turned his hands. A sharp gasp left him, his face, normally sporting a confident smirk, faltered into a mask of total displacement. There was blood under his nails, bits of skin as if he dragged against another's body.

"-don't w-want to be with you...P-please, don't ever again!" The pup - he could smell the fur and the scent of fresh pines and dirt of nature on him - began to shuffle backwards, continually slipping as a bruised leg tangled in his sheet. Unable to prevent himself, Marcel followed him, raising his hands to show peace,

"Hey, hey, stop crying. I need you to tell me what happened, w-why are you in my house and more importantly in my bed?" A horrible knowing that he had sex with the younger, who seemed barely of age, but the fact that he didn't remember. Unless-

"-in your bed first! You-me when you hurt I-Ivan, then you hurt me. Then you g-grabbed me and brought me here for more and w-when you stopped, you just, you didn't let me go. Oh Gods, oh Gods..." The nameless boy collapsed into fresh sobs, arms crossing, fingers running lightly over his numerous wounds while rocking back and forth. A few scatterings of sentences, of a name, before there was nothing but crying.

*

His damned coffee machine was taking far too long. With a growl, Marcel quickened his pacing; the palewood brown of his counters blended into the silver of his fridge with a swirling of his body. His view of the kitchen became carousel-like, the pounding blood in his ears serving as rather grotesque music. The puppy, after a quiet suggestion, went to clean himself. A bath or shower - Marcel didn't tell him to take either, wanting the younger to have a choice for whatever he preferred.

Something I never gave him last night, this morning...

A fierce growl escaped his lips, turning into a snarl, the rush of emotion rising within him blocked out the pain from slamming his fist into his fridge door. Last night was a blur, but a vague notion led him to believe that this wasn't a sick joke.

He remembered noticing that his girlfriend was less "soft" while he was having sex.

He remembered hearing crying and sobbing, which was odd because Marie liked the pain.

He remembered nothing else, his drunken mind was probably too poisoned to recall anything else.

And what was worse, he had marked another as a mate while he had already had Marie. It was a nightmare - he ruined three people's lives. The still nameless puppy, someone named Ivan, and his own.

Well, Marie's as well...

But she probably would find her life in a heartbeat before shattering his. She was delightfully sporadic in attitude and her preferences while in bed; her short fuse often was a good thing, as Marcel enjoyed pain here and there, but this incident would, no doubt, extend nipple pinchers and playful whippings. Nope, this time, neither would arouse anything but his desire for unconsciousness to numb his body's awareness to whatever she'd inflict upon him. He paused his pacing,

Hmmm...Maybe being knocked out isn't best...

Marie surely would find some awful thing to do to him while he wasn't able to protect himself or protest.