Cassius “Little Wolf” Clifford is on the trail of a notorious criminal organization known as the Wild Hunt, intent on stopping whatever villainous plans they have in mind. Little does the hunter know that he is, in fact, the hunted.
Cassius Clifford was used to lurking. He was standing in the shadow of a narrow alleyway between two ramshackle apartment buildings. The night air was tense and quiet. For an apartment block housing thousands of people, the silence was eerie.
Wolves made of shadow hid in nearby dark corners, keeping an eye out for their master. They were in constant communication with Cas, relaying to him their observations. One could never be too careful in the Rags. Underestimating the human capacity for cruelty was a sure-fire way of getting killed in one of Greater Cascadia’s larger slums.
Across the street from Cas was Gabbard Park. It wasn’t named out of any affection for the rebel super leader that had signed the treaty to end the war. If anything, it was an insult to the memory of the man. The park was small, cramped, and thickly wooded. It was largely unmaintained thanks to the refusal of city workers to have anything to do with the Rags.
The people made the most of the space, though. Ironically enough, Gabbard Park wasn’t overrun with weeds because of a crime syndicate. Four nights out of every five during the week, the Bilgers gang opened their Bazalar in Gabbard Park.
In the Bazalar, the Bilgers and their approved merchants sold all sorts of goods from stands interspersed through the trees. Some of it was legal and completely above board, provisions for the poverty-stricken families that lived around the park. A lot of it was illicit and near-impossible to find elsewhere, goods for the more unsavory characters that frequented the night market.
From what Cas understood, Bazalar was an unfortunate misprinting of the word Bazaar. There had been attempts to fix it, but the people liked the "wrong" name. Cas had no doubt that the people responsible for the mistake had probably suffered a fair bit of misery since.
Tonight, though, was a Tuesday night. Gabbard Park was largely dark and still. Firelight shone through the thick copse of trees in the center of the park, though, marking the presence of a group that Cas had been keeping an eye on for a while, now.
The Wild Hunt made no secret of their presence. It was as if they didn’t care at all that they were on someone else’s turf. They didn’t have to. The Bilgers, a gang of lowly smugglers and drug barons, wouldn’t dare raise a hand against a group like the Wild Hunt if Cas had his information right.
The lack of a response from the Bilgers spoke volumes about the Wild Hunt’s place in the hierarchy of Greater Cascadia’s criminal underbelly. The Bilgers were pretty influential to begin with. That they were intimidated out of protecting their turf had implications that Cas didn’t like.
Still, with the Wild Hunt in the area, it was no surprise that the windows nearby weren’t just firmly closed, but boarded shut. The tension in the air was so thick Cas was convinced he could cut through it with the hunting knife strapped to his leg.
Tonight, Cas hoped, would be a good night. Even though it was difficult getting any sort of reliable intel regarding a group like the Wild Hunt, which operated in a very disperse fashion, he was confident that he could put a stop to anything that they were planning.
Originally, the Rags hadn’t even been part of Cas’ territory. All the vigilante "heroes" in Greater Cascadia formed an informal sort of union and parceled out areas of the city for heroes to watch over. Cas used to watch over a small neighborhood out by the water where basically nothing ever happened.
The Rags’ original keeper, Sidewinder, was gone. He had disappeared without a trace. Two months ago, the heroes’ union decided that it was time to appoint someone new to watch over the Rags. Wanting the responsibility, Cas had put in his name for consideration. He was forced to fight the veteran hero Ventus for the spot.
Cas smiled. He remembered the exhilaration of that fight. He remembered the burn in his muscles, the satisfaction as he finally pinned Ventus down with the help of his wolves and won the day. Oh, that fight had definitely helped his ego.
Cas was distracted from his thoughts by a lone howl that cut through the silence of the night. He shifted uncomfortably in his place. His wolves seemed to tense up. It was clear they didn’t like the sound. It hadn’t come from one of them, but from one of the members of the Wild Hunt.
Truth be told, the howl had been unsettling. Cas had a pretty good howl of his own, but he didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone come so close to a natural wolf howl before. Other voices howled after the first one, then boisterous laughter echoed through the block.
Cas smirked. He was supposed to just be keeping an eye on the Wild Hunt’s movements tonight, but if it came down to a fight, he was sure he could take them. He knew they were armed, but he was strong and fast. He had practice taking down entire gangs because he was often called in to be the muscle in some of the union’s operations in Greater Cascadia.
Whatever the Wild Hunt was doing, it didn’t look like they were leaving any time soon. After waiting another half hour just in case someone arrived to meet with the group, Cas decided to take a closer look.
Cas’ wolves darted from the shadows under the flickering streetlamps that ringed the park into the hardy brush of the park’s woods. HE sprinted as quietly as he could across the street and crept into the vegetation himself.
As luck would have it, it didn’t seem like the Wild Hunt had noticed his presence. Slowly but surely, placing great emphasis on stealth, he made his way toward the firelight in the middle of the woods.
What Cas saw past the hardy shrubs in front of him made his cheeks warm. Sitting around the firepit, which was crackling with a merry fire, was a group of probably the best-looking men Cas had ever seen. Had he not known that these men were the members of the Wild Hunt, he would have thought he’d walked into a photoshoot for an underwear company.
The men of the Wild Hunt were dressed in combat gear. Well, half-dressed would be more accurate. Many only had pants on and were bare from the waist up. The missing articles of clothing were strewn about the clearing, some hanging from the low branches on the bordering trees.
Even with just a cursory examination, Cas could tell that the equipment was high quality. The gear was practically indistinguishable from what he himself had worn on his deployment. Wherever the Wild Hunt got their uniforms from, it wasn’t a bootleg seller. They either had a man on the inside or had access to someone who could manufacture near-perfect reproductions of the official stuff.
Cas watched as a number of the men stripped down all the way. Two started fucking by the fire, while a group of three started making out on a nearby log. A pair leaning against a tree opposite Cass were idly stroking each other’s erections.
If he had known that the Wild Hunt were just going to be engaging in some weird sex thing, Cas wouldn’t have come to watch. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Watching the hot guys go at each other was having an effect on him that wasn’t altogether unpleasant.
Trying to look away from the action taking place in the middle of the clearing, Cas caught sight of a man who was standing apart from it all.
Leaning against a tree at the edge of the clearing was a significantly older man. He was grizzled. His jaw was rough with the perfect amount of scruff, and his broad shoulders and chest, visible under his unbuttoned camo jacket, were lightly dusted with hair unlike the other men.
The man was wearing what appeared to be a hood in the style of a wolf’s head over his hair. He looked good in it. A thin scar stretched from the base of the man’s ear, across the side of his face, to his jaw. If the man hadn’t been a hardened criminal, Cas would have had his hands all over him. The man was just Cas’ type.
The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. As he did so, the camo jacket fell open a little bit more. Cas was thankful the man was shirtless under the jacket, because he got to admire the man’s firm, defined chest, and rock-hard, cobbled abs. The thin scars branded across the man’s skin only added to his attractiveness in Cas’ eyes.
Cas was willing to bet that this man was the leader of the Wild Hunt. If his intel was correct, this man was Commander Cain, one of the most mysterious criminal leaders of Greater Cascadia. Rumor had that Commander Cain liked to direct his men from afar, treating the Wild Hunt and their operations like an elaborate wargame. The man was only supposed to make public appearances when big things were about to happen.
Watching the other members of the Wild Hunt, Cas could tell that all of them had some combat experience. Commander Cain, on the other hand, beyond the shadow of a doubt, had probably fought in Wilson’s War. A veteran like that wasn’t someone Cas could underestimate.
Even though Cas was confident that if push came to shove, he could take care of the Wild Hunt, he didn’t want to risk it. He needed to leave and regroup and figure out how to deal with Cain. It was as he was preparing to head back out of Gabbard Park that he realized something was off.
A chill ran down Cas’ spine when he looked up. One of his wolves was prowling toward the edge of the clearing, its shadowy body flickering like flames upon exposure to the light. It was getting too close to Cain, but no matter how hard Cas tried to command it to get away, it would not listen.
The wolf bared its teeth, growling silently as it stalked toward Cain. Its body tensed, as if it were ready to pounce. Then, it stopped. It let out a little whine that cut straight through Cas, and sat down. Cain smiled and petted the wolf before looking right at Cas. "Hello there, Little Wolf. Come join us. It’s cold tonight. It’s fun and hot by the fire."
Cas tensed. He had no idea why Cain wasn’t lying in pieces on the ground right now, and he didn’t have the time to figure it out. He needed to leave now, and take his wolves with him before any more got too close to Cain.
The sound of guns cocking stopped Cas in his tracks. He had been ready to grab the hunting knife strapped to his leg when he saw how many men seemed to melt out of the trees. He raised his hands in surrender. "Don’t you think it’s a bit rude to try and leave without answering my invitation? Come on out of there. Let’s have a chat," said Cain.
Cas was pretty sure that he could grab his knife and disable the soldiers pointing guns at him before they could react. He’d done it multiple times. His enemies were always caught off guard. But as he looked into Cain’s eyes, as he took in the older man’s unconcerned expression, he began to doubt.
From what Cas had heard, Cain was a very meticulous man. If he knew Cas’ code name, it was likely that he knew about Cas’ abilities. Despite that, he was using grunts to capture Cas, and didn’t seem at all worried. There was a chance it could be arrogance, but Cas didn’t think a man like Cain would underestimate his opponents.
Most of the time, Cas could rely on his wolves as backup. They helped him bridge the gap in technology, skill, and numbers against his opponents, but this time was different. He felt vulnerable and outmatched. The confidence he’d had earlier was starting to crumble.
Cas stepped into the clearing, the barrel of a rifle poking between his shoulders. He was made to walk toward Cain, before one of the men behind him said "on your knees, hero." Cas hesitated for a moment, which was rewarded with the butt of a rifle against the back of his head.
Normally, Cas would have been able to ignore the pain. He was so off-kilter that this time, he couldn’t. He knelt on the loamy earth and looked up at Cain, as the same voice commanded him to put his hands behind his head.
Cas decided that he wasn’t going to take orders from a grunt. The wolves might not be able to help him, but he was still a man. A hero. It would be unseemly if he just went along with a bunch of criminals. As the guy behind him moved to strike, so too did Cas.
Lightning fast, Cas grabbed the hunting knife strapped to his leg. He twisted around, bringing it up in an arcing slash that he hoped would do some damage, but something stopped him. Fingers clasped in an iron grip around his wrist made it impossible to move his arm, and before he could react, the butt of the rifle struck him.
This time, since Cas was twisted halfway around toward his captor, the blow hit him just above the brow instead of at the back of his head. He yelped at the sudden pain, and felt a warm trickle of blood down the side of his face.
Smarting from the blow, Cas looked at the hand wrapped around his wrist and followed it up the arm of its owner. It was Cain, who had somehow crossed the distance between them in the fraction of a second it had taken Cas to draw his weapon.
Pain shot up Cas’ arm as Cain twisted his wrist. The knife fell to the ground with a quiet thud. "Who brings a knife to a gun fight?" said Cain, shaking his head. Cas tried to wrench his arm out of Cain’s grip. He was only able to when Cain allowed him.
For the first time that evening, Cas felt fear. Cas was used to feeling indomitable. He led a pack of rowdy shadow-wolves and managed to keep them in check. He could prevail against criminal thugs outnumbered ten to one. He wasn’t used to being the one on the back foot.
"I don’t know why you’re so surprised to find out that the leader of the Wild Hunt is a super," said Cain, walking back to the tree he’d been leaning against. "Do you even know what our manifesto is?"
Cas couldn’t meet Cain’s discerning gaze. He didn’t know the Wild Hunt’s manifesto. All he knew was that they caused trouble. They were suspected to be behind a number of high-profile bombings in the last year, and had taken credit for the assassination of a handful of government officials. He had decided to go after the Wild Hunt after they shot up a stall in the lower district.
Cain laughed. "You’re a strong boy, I’ll give you that," said Cain. "But you’re young and stupid. Let me guess. You saw a criminal organization that you thought you could take on to prove that you’re worthy of the Rags. Not just to the other heroes, but to yourself."
Cas looked at the ground. His cheeks felt warm. He was ashamed. Cain had hit his reasons on the head. Cas knew that he was a capable hero. He just needed to prove it to the others. It was the only way he could convince them of what needed to be done.
But Cain’s tone of voice didn’t sit well with Cas. It was almost as if he was implying that the Wild Hunt wasn’t doing anything wrong, that they were doing their despicable deeds with some higher purpose in mind.
Cas took a deep breath. He centered himself and settled his mind. He was outnumbered, outgunned, and now, clearly outclassed. But that didn’t mean he should just take the blows. He clung to the embers of defiance inside of him and met Cain’s gaze. "So? Are you going to tell me I’m wrong? Are you going to tell me you’re not criminals doing criminal things and making people suffer?"
Cain smirked, not exactly the reaction Cas expected. "We are criminals," said Cain. "But we’re not just criminals. We’re soldiers, fighting for a cause, doing what we need to do."
The conviction in Cain’s voice made Cas’ confidence falter. He could tell that Cain believed every word, which he would have admired if it didn’t seem so contrived. Cas spat on the ground between his knees. "So you needed to shoot up that innocent man’s stall?" said Cas.
"If we just wanted to get rid of that guy, you would be right, it would have been excessive. But we wanted to send a message," said Cain, his eyes seemingly boring right into the depths of Cas’ soul.
Cas shivered. There was something about Cain’s intensity that just put him off his game. "What message?" he said, trying to hide the quaver in his voice. "That it’s wrong to sell week-old vegetables to people who can’t afford better?"
"You’re hopelessly naïve, boy," said Cain. His voice seemed to thunder through the clearing. The other members of the Wild Hunt, who weren’t involved in the conversation, fell quiet.
Cain walked toward Cas. He stopped in front of Cas. His height, his commanding presence, made Cas feel small and insignificant. He’d never felt this way before, and it was doing strange things to him. "That man was a government informant. He had a super detector under his stall, and the only reason that you haven’t been picked up yet is because he had the grace to be grateful to you for saving his life."
Cas shivered. What Cain was saying couldn’t possibly be true. But he couldn’t pick up on any indication that the commander was lying. "It’s just unfortunate that six people he reported that day can’t say the same thing because they didn’t have the privilege of saving his wretched life," said Cain, with contempt.
Cain lowered himself to his haunches. He grabbed Cas by the face and turned his head so that he was looking up at one of his captors. "Axel was the one who shot up that guy’s stall. His brother was a super. No one in his family knew. Not even his brother. Can you look him in the eyes and tell him that he’s a criminal for wanting to prevent what happened to his brother from happening to anyone else?"
Cas tore his face away from Cain’s grip. He felt weak and small, a child in a world of men. His face flushed with shame and, strangely enough, arousal. This gruff man telling him that he was wrong roused something inside of Cas that he never would have otherwise discovered.
"So," said Cas, the defiance in his eyes melting away. He pulled together the dregs of his confidence as resignation set into his shoulders. "Are you going to get rid of me?"
Cain stroked the side of Cas’ face. The touch was strangely tender. "I said we were soldiers, Little Wolf, not monsters," he said. "Why would we kill you for having a different, albeit naïve view of the world? There’s few enough of us supers down here. I’m not about to help them cull us."
Cas looked into Cain’s eyes, startled by the change in tone. They were glowing red. The more he looked into those eyes, the more he felt uncertain. Of himself, of his preconceptions, of his principles. And Cain looked so sure, so full of conviction, that Cas almost felt as if he wasn’t worthy enough to even face this man. "Why am I still here, then?" he whispered.
"Because you have something I want. Moreover, I have need of a mate," said Cain, his thumb rubbing small circles on Cas’ cheek. "And from what I know about you, Cassius Clifford, I think you would solve both problems quite nicely."
Cas flushed even redder. His cheeks felt like they were about to burst into flame. He couldn’t deny that some part of him wanted it. But Cain was still a criminal. He was still a hero. It could never happen. "No, no, that’s wrong," said Cas. "We can’t…" But even to him, his protests sounded half-hearted.
None of this was right. Cas didn’t know why he was feeling so submissive all of a sudden, why his cock was hard in his pants at the thought of being bred by this criminal, but he knew that he had to get out of there quickly.
Cas took a deep breath to steady himself. He closed his eyes and called out to all of his wolves. It was a risk, but one that he had to take. A chill ran down his spine when none of them responded.
When Cas opened his eyes, Cain was smiling. The commander placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled. The sound was sharp and shrill, echoing through the trees. Cas’ wolves all came out of the shadows, and sat, their faint yellow eyes trained on the scene unfolding between Cas and Cain.
"It’s too late for that, Little Wolf," said Cain. He briefly glanced over his shoulder at the wolves that had gathered. "They’re not here to rescue you or help you fight your way out of this situation. They’re here to watch whether they will have a new Alpha to follow."
Instinct prevailed over reason. Faster than he had ever moved in his life, Cas grabbed the hunting knife from the dirt and stabbed in Cain’s direction. Equally as fast, Cain knocked his wrist away and sent the knife flying across the clearing. It embedded itself halfway into the trunk of a tree with a loud thunk.
Cas roared as he launched from his kneeling position at Cain. The commander dodged easily out of the way and rose to his full height in one smooth motion. Breathing heavily, Cas got up on his two feet as well.
Channeling the ferocity that living for a few months in the Bulgarian forests, being play-hunted by the other supers in the commune that had taken him in, Cas charged at Cain. They exchanged a flurry of blows so fast that their arms were a blur to anyone watching from outside.
Cain matched Cas blow for blow. He never faltered, nor even once looked uncertain. As Cas failed time and again to catch Cain by surprise, he felt his confidence waver even more. He didn’t know if he could even win this, but he knew he had to fight.
A single opening was all that Cas needed, and he saw it. He feinted a punch, then wound up and kicked Cain in the stomach with all his might. In the brief heartbeat he could see Cain’s face, Cain seemed to smile before skidding across the clearing and slamming into a tree.
Leaves rained down from the crown overhead, but before Cas could even recover from the blow he’d managed to land, Cain charged at him with inhuman speed. The next thing Cain knew, his back slammed into a tree, and pain exploded across his body. Calloused fingers around his neck were the only thing that kept him upright.
As the stars cleared from Cas’ vision, he felt the adrenaline leave his body. All it had taken for Cain to overcome the years of practice that Cas had had was a single strike. He couldn’t possibly hold a candle to Cain. He expected the next painful blow that would land but instead, felt warm lips pressing up against his.
Despite himself, Cas moaned into the kiss. Cain kept him there until he was lightheaded from lack of oxygen. He didn’t think he’d ever had a better kiss than that.
Cain was grinning when he pulled away. "I would like it if you joined us," he said. "The Wild Hunt could always use strong, handsome young men. But I know that you’re a hero. And you have your hang-ups, though you like to call them principles, so that’s probably not possible."
Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Cain’s finger on his lips shushed him. "It doesn’t matter," said Cain. Cas was shamefully hard. He could feel Cain’s own erection pressed up against his thigh, which didn’t help the confusing mix of humiliation and arousal that Cas felt inside.
"I already have what I want from you," said Cain. "And since I’m feeling generous tonight, I’m inclined to let you go. You don’t have to agree with the Wild Hunt’s methods. You do your hero thing. I do my thing. I promise not to mess up the city too bad. I’ve got people I love living here, too, you know."
That deal was more than Cas expected. He’d gotten an insight into Cain’s motivations tonight. The commander was right. He didn’t have to agree with the methods, but their goals seemed aligned. Was it really so bad to let the Wild Hunt get rid of the people that Cas’ hero morals wouldn’t let him?
Cain leaned in to whisper in Cas’ ear. The feeling of his hot breath against Cas’ skin made Cas shiver. "If you tell me you want nothing to do with me, I’ll let you go. I won’t bother you as long as you don’t bother me or my boys, and we can both walk away from here tonight having gotten something."
"But if you do want me, if you want to be mine even if you don’t want to be part of the Wild Hunt, I’m going to take you right here, and we can both leave here happy," said Cain.
Cas’ nostrils flared. His body flooded with arousal. His cock twitched and throbbed, trapped in his pants. Cain removed his finger from Cas’ lips, and Cas struggled for a moment to find the words to respond. "I don’t want to be a one night stand," he said, surprised at his own vulnerability.
"Just because we’re staying out of each other’s way doesn’t mean we can’t have fun when it’s a slow night, or when we’re not on the job," said Cain, with a playfully suggestive tone.
"I…" Cas trailed off. He looked into Cain’s glowing red eyes. He felt weak. Small. Helpless. The confidence he’d felt earlier that evening felt like it had been thoroughly drained. He felt raw and vulnerable in a way that he had never felt before, and yet, in Cain’s iron grip, he felt strangely safe.
Cas said, "I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but…" Before he could finish, Cas grabbed both sides of Cain’s face and smashed their lips together. It was as if fireworks went off in Cas’ head. HIs body tingled all over. Cain’s fingers around his throat loosened, and then fell away.
When they broke the kiss, Cas felt dazed and breathless. He had dropped back onto the ground, but he didn’t think he was going to be able to stand under his own power for much longer. His legs felt like jelly, his body felt like it was burning up from the inside.
Cain flipped Cas around and grabbed him by the hips. Cas braced himself against the tree and muttered, under his breath, "God… I fucking hope I don’t regret this in the morning," he said.
Cas felt the cool night air waft over his ass cheeks as Cain pulled his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. The commander spread his cheeks. The chilly air made his pucker twitch, while the feeling of Cain’s rough hands palming and squeezing his glutes like dough made his rock-hard cock leak.
"You might regret that it took you this long to meet me, Little Wolf," said Cain, his weight pressing down on Cas’ arched back as he lined his cock up with Cas’ hole, "But I’ll make sure that you never regret that you did."
"Wait," Cas said, as he felt the blunt head of Cain’s cock pressing up against his entrance. "Are you just going to stick it in?" he said. Cas wasn’t a stranger to bottoming, but he knew he needed more preparation than a little groping.
"Can’t you feel how wet and ready you are for me?" said Cain. His weight shifted. Cas felt Cain’s fingers brushing up against his hole. His pucker twitched and he felt something slick leak out of him.
"What the fu—!" Cas let out a strangled yelp as Cain sank into him all the way to the hilt. He felt so fucking full. Cain was so big. His hole felt like it was being stretched to its limits, but it didn’t hurt.
Cas’ pucker burned, but in a pleasant way. He could feel his insides fluttering around Cain’s cock. It felt so good. He couldn’t help but let out a moan.
As Cain rolled his hips, Cas’ world seemed to shrink down to the two of them. His fingers scrabbled against the coarse bark of the tree that he was leaning against as Cain’s cock slid in and out of his hole. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, even more so when Cain’s cock rubbed against his prostate.
More and more, Cas became aware of the fluid leaking out of him. It was unlike anything he’d felt before. He hadn’t even known he was self-lubricating. It intensified the sensation of Cain’s cock inside of him, roughly drilling his hole, pounding him into the tree.
The orgasm built slowly. Cain fucked him harder and faster with every thrust until his toes were curling from the pleasure. His back arched as he pressed his chest and cheek against the tree in front of him.
"Fuck, you’re tight," grunted Cain, as his fingers dug into the tender flesh of Cas’ hips. The relentless pounding was making Cas’ brain rattle around in his skull. It was hard to think past the sheer rapturous pleasure of it all.
Cas moaned and whimpered and groaned as Cain masterfully played his body. The pressure built and built and built in his navel until finally, with a shuddering gasp and a particularly hard thrust, Cas came.
The orgasm didn’t start from Cas’ cock. He felt his insides throbbing, fluttering. His hole clamped around the base of Cain’s member as Cain flooded him with cum. Slick gushed out of him, falling in rivulets down the insides of his thighs as wave after wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, rolling into a single, seemingly-endless torrent.
By the time that he came down from the most intense orgasm that he had ever experienced, Cas realized that he had never even noticed his own cock shooting. He braced his head against the tree and looked down at the dirt in front of him. It was wet, glistening white with his emission.
Cain pulled out of Cas with a quiet pop. He flipped Cas over and gently laid Cas against the tree. Cas could feel slick and cum trickling out of his hole, and the sensation made his spent cock twitch. He felt used, but in a good way, and he wanted more.
As he was trying to catch his breath, Cas watched Cain closely. The commander was grinning at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. He felt strangely happy. Satisfied, even.
It was then that Cas realized that the other men of the Wild Hunt had gotten dressed. Cain himself had closed his jacket and had taken up his rifle. "Where are you…" Cas started.
Cain put a finger on his lips and said, "shush." Cain snapped his fingers, and the fire burning in the firepit crackled. A shower of embers rose into the air from the burning logs as shadows materialized around them.
Seemingly from out of thin air, Cain conjured wolves much like Cas’, but better. Cain’s wolves were larger than Cas’. Their eyes were reddish-gold, and their maws were filled with teeth that seemed much sharper. While their bodies were made of shadow, the tufts of their "fur" glowed faintly red and released ember motes into the air.
Cain patted Cas on the head and said, "I’ll see you around, Little Wolf. Let one of your wolves know if you ever need me and I’ll come. Whether you need help, or whether you need fucked, I’ll come."
Cas was too stunned to say anything and could only watch helplessly as the Wild Hunt dispersed through the woods and vanished as if they had never been there in the first place.
The longer he spent away from Cain, the more Cas felt like he’d been used, manipulated, dirtied, and discarded. He shuddered, quite unable to believe how he’d let a criminal fuck him and how much he’d liked it.
Cas hoped that it had all been a fever dream, but the evidence was undeniable. His hole throbbed pleasantly, and cum was still leaking out of him, dripping down along his thighs. He pulled up his pants and tried to stand, but his legs buckled underneath him. His wolves, seemingly back to their normal selves, helped him out of Gabbard Park and into a nearby alleyway where he recuperated until he could move on his own again.
Cas looked out over the skyline of Greater Cascadia. It had been two weeks since his fateful encounter with the Wild Hunt and Cain. He still couldn’t get it out of his head.
Cas was convinced that Cain had done something to him. Cain had somehow done some fucky mind control to him to make him submit. His body thought otherwise. His hole still tingled at the thought of a repeat, but his mind rebelled against the idea of being used as a brood mare.
To make matters worse, Cas’ wolves had been a lot rowdier than usual. They seemed even less inclined to obey him than they had before his encounter with Cain. It was as if they didn’t respect his authority any longer.
This was all Cain’s fault. God. Cas couldn’t believe he’d let a criminal fuck him. He couldn’t believe how much he’d loved it. And what was that with the slick? He’d been horny in the days since Cain, but the only time his hole ended up dripping like a cunt was when he indulged in the guilty pleasure of fantasizing about Cain.
"Goddammit, Cain," Cas said under his breath. The concrete of the building cracked under his grip. The wolf that had been watching him decided that it was time to leave. "The next time I see you, I’m going to… I’m going to…"
Cas nearly pitched himself off the roof of the high-rise when he felt a pair of thick, muscular arms wrap around his waist. "You’re going to what, Little Wolf?" said a familiar voice that instantly sent a shiver down Cas’ spine. The same stupid voice that haunted his raunchiest nightmares.
"C-Cain?" said Cas, whirling around to face the commander of the Wild Hunt. "What… What are you doing here?" he said.
Cain grinned. "Your wolves said their master was miserable and needed his Alpha to take care of him," said Cain.
Cas face turned scarlet. God. No. Not this again. "I-I don’t know what you’re talking about," he said. He glared at where the wolf from earlier had been, but the fucker had disappeared. "I’m perfectly fine, as you can see. Now, you can go away."
Cain’s rough, calloused hand slid down the back of Cas’ pants. Cas froze as he felt Cain’s fingers rub up against his hole. Slick gushed out of him. Curses. Cain chuckled and said, "Really? This tells me otherwise… But if you really want me to go, I’ll go…"
"Oh god damn it," said Cas. He grabbed Cain’s head. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He needed this, even if he was never going to admit it out loud. "Just this once," he said, pulling away from the kiss before diving back in. "And then, after this, no more,"
"Whatever you say, dear," said Cain, as he pulled Cas away from the ledge and slammed him unceremoniously onto the roof of the building.