102. Sinners

“Are you excited to meet this other Alpha? Do you think he’s really immortal like the rumors say?”
Selene snorted teasingly as she kissed and nibbled a trail up her mate’s bare torso. Reaching her lips, she mumbled against them, “I am one of a kind, my moonflower mate. I find it hard to believe his story is the same as mine. The rumors also claim that his skin is permanently stained red with blood.”
Calla giggled before moaning in pleasure when Selene’s mouth found the warm mound of her breast. “Let’s hope he isn’t as handsome as the rumors *also* say.”
Selene’s tongue tasted her mate’s skin, swearing she was as soft and delicate as her namesake. “Are you afraid that I will fall madly in love and fuck him?”
The Magnolia Omega hummed, lightly batting Selene’s head in reprimand. “You have eyes only for your soulbound mate—”
“Of course.”
“—and two months isn’t that long.”
“Are you sure you cannot wait until he arrives?” Selene murmured, mouth now dangerously close to the delicate spot between Calla’s petal-smooth thighs.
Calla whimpered, unable to hide the slick she was producing, much to Selene’s satisfaction. “You know…I can’t be…be away from home for so…so long. My pups need me. Just for some pretty Alpha male—*oh*.”
Selene was lapping Calla’s opening with slow strokes, making her cry out softly, their lower bodies clenching with the tight heat of their cores. “I will never love, never even taste, another werewolf, male or female, anyone but you, my mate, my Calla.”
Release barreled through them both, their names howled into the night sky above the harem of the Moon.
-
Selene’s chest ached after Calla disappeared over the hill with one of her Magnolia packmates. They would travel safely back to the small Magnolia town only one day away. She would have gone with her as if weren’t for her intruding on Calla’s family she left behind—the family who feared and hated Selene for “stealing” a treasured member of the Amaranth line.
*If only they knew how happy their precious flower is in my bed*, Selene thought with a grin.
“Luna!” one of her Betas called from the entrance to Castle Night, still in its infancy. “Kiran Cyrus is nearing!”
She looked up to the watchtower, where a lesser Alpha pointed in the opposite direction.
When Selene first heard the rumor of the immortal Alpha, the “gold god,” Kiran Cyrus, she had barked a laugh. How could another werewolf share her story—a conquerer of packs and their lands, leaving a trail of blood and terror in his wake. *She* was such a wolf. Was he a fated counterpart?
She didn’t trust him, but she would play the perfect host to assess his credibility. Her liaison had informed her that he merely wanted to meet, most likely for the same reason—for one Alpha to consider the other and determine how much of a threat the other could be to their growing empires.
When she saw the gold pelt of the massive wolf trotting alone to the gate, Selene felt nothing but dark apprehension.
But she had stood against bigger threats.
Selene padded out to greet him wearing her finest blue outfit that eventuated every curve that needed to charm an expecting enemy. It was meant to distract and disarm. Two lesser Alphas flanked her, her Delta close behind.
Kiran was given a white robe that he closed and tightened before Selene could see if he was as big as his wolf form implied.
“Kiran Cyrus, welcome to Castle Night. I am Selene Hilal, the Luna of the Moon pack.”
The grin he fixed her with was the cockiest she had ever seen. It promised charm and danger, death and excellent sex.
The irises of his eyes burned honey-gold, a chiseled face bristling with faint stubble and framed by messy gold locks that he now slicked back with two hands. His skin was gold, too, bronzed by warm weather, and muscled with pure Alpha strength.
Selene heard her packmates’ hearts lurch at his beauty. She resisted her warning growl, making her expression cool and intrigued.
“It seems I don’t need to introduce myself, Luna,” he said, and even his voice was appealing, “other than my title as Alpha of the Sun pack and Apollo’s Keep.”
“Come in, guest,” Selene said formally.
“Kiran,” he insisted graciously, accepting her invitation. “I prefer to be more personable than my reputation.”
“Then you may call me Selene.”
She guided him through the barely-muscled bones of Castle Night, forcing the twinge of embarrassment at a less-than-perfect display of her might with pride at what was already completed: her harem.
The living space was massive and decorated blue and black and gilded in silver. Selene glimpsed Kiran in her peripheral taking it all in with nothing but faint appraisal.
It irritated her pride. “Is my architecture not the finest?”
He turned that oozing-sweet smirk on her. “Oh, no, it is remarkable. I just prefer the magnificence of gold.” A paused when they halted. “I noticed your heart didn’t leap, Selene, when you saw me for the first time.”
He was no stranger to pride, either, she thought, displaying her own fanged smile. “My heart leaps only for my mate, *Kiran*. I mean no offense to your…attractiveness, if that is what you are referring to.”
His thick brows rose, and she sensed that the vain male actually had the respect to dip his head and say, “I would be a true knothead to seduce a mated female.”
She refrained from simpering. “Do you have a mate?”
Kiran’s bright demeanor did not falter, but Selene still noticed the twitch of his smile. “I did.”
This time Selene’s heart reacted. *His mate died*. It was the worst pain imaginable a werewolf could endure. Gods forbid she experience the tragedy—imagining Calla dying was her darkest nightmare—but her irritation eased in sympathy.
At least he was no threat in terms of pursuing her Omegas. Once a wolf lost their mate, no matter how many years pass by, it was nearly impossible for the surviving mate to fall back into romantic love again.
There wasn’t much to say but a brisk, “My condolences.”
His charm seemed only to heighten, whether faux or not. “What fun is immortality if we focus only on our sins?”
Then Selene grinned. “Sin is all immortality needs.”
The gold in his eyes glowed with interest. “You could not be more correct…Selene.”
She would not be disarmed in her own home, but she felt secure with a familiar perchance for unabashed immoralities.
The next two months were learning not to step on each other’s tails. Two Alphas hunting for potential ill-will was risky—did Kiran mere wish to trade tragedies, or would he see her as a rival to eliminate?
Selene wondered what *she* wanted from *him*. Was she looking for someone to finally understand what it was like to bathe in blood…or would he only be a hindrance to her pack?
There were two doors Selene could leave unguarded; one: her own self, and two: her rule. She could lower the walls shielding what she truly was, but never would she lower her guard enough for him to take advantage of her or the might of her pack and harem.
Despite a healthy dose of annoyance for the consistent bravado and occasional lewd comment, Selene came to actually enjoy Kiran’s company. He was not shy in sharing any and all experiences in his many years of existence, including their disturbingly similar plights endured through their lives. They bonded over what only they could understand: death, blood and war, and forever.
Selene was even impressed by Kiran’s hunting skills, and that was high praise for her to offer.
On the day Calla was supposed to return, he took down a large buck, and, still in his wolf form, offered they share it.
Feeling generous, Selene dipped her head and trotted over. “Very kind of you.”
He let her take the first bite. “Some attempt to call me the *generous* gold god.”
“For the gift of food or sex?” she wondered with a bloodied grin.
Kiran was striking in many ways, but Selene most appreciated a fellow hedonist.
She added, “‘War’ and ‘sex’ are considered sins, are they not?”
He flicked an amused ear. “Why not both?”
Finishing the meal, they ambled back to Castle Night.
“When did you realize you were immortal?” Kiran ventured after some time of companionable silence.
Selene slowed her pace when they reached her sparse forest of birch trees. It was mid-spring, and their white trunks were topped with vibrant green.
No one had asked her that before, nor had she wanted to dwell on it.
“I am only twenty-seven,” she settled on responding. “I very well could be mortal.”
“As opposed to my ancient ass,” he said with a snigger at her expense. Ignoring her eye-roll, Kiran assumed a sudden seriousness. It was because of *that* ability Selene’s guard could never be breached. Kiran was much older, more experienced. His mind and prowess were unmatched, and Selene would not let him believe *she* was unmatched.
“I was twenty when I met my mate, and twenty-five when she was shot by human hunters.”
Selene made a great effort to avoid humans at all costs, a lesson her parents taught her—and this was the reason why. They were the real heartless monsters.
Kiran wasn’t looking for an apology, much less pity, and Selene offered neither. “Fuck humans,” she said instead.
“Indeed,” he agreed darkly. And then, just like that, his demeanor flicked back to a dazzling grin even for a wolf. “Karma is a bitch, isn’t it?”
Selene was well-acquainted with karma as much as pride. “The enemy of sin.”