Page 69 of Real

“My closet,” Buddy says. “In the corner of my closet, behind the drawing of a blue crane.”

I lift off him. At first, he reaches for me, but he withdraws when I rise above him, my shoulders back and pure confidence radiating through me. My inner alpha is in control now. I’ve never surrendered to him like this, not even in the pits. That was what Timber told me to do. “Let your inner alpha free” or “Become one with your inner alpha.”

My inner alpha has never been strong enough to take control of everything. Not until today.

I roam through the hallways of Dorian’s house completely naked until I reach the small closet that still smells of Buddy’s old and miserable slick. I let out a howl of grief at the pain my omega endured in this spot. But like Buddy said, behind the drawing of a blue crane there is a plastic bag taped to the wall. Inside the bag are three pills.

I pour the contents of the entire bag into my mouth.

Buddy is behind me when I turn around. Slick is running down his inner thighs and he’s whining for me. I can’t fuck him in this place that reeks of his despair, but I throw him over my shoulder and carry him to the kitchen. Once we reach the island, I release him to the ground, and spin him around until he’s bent over the counter.

“Timothy, I’m yours. Can’t you feel it?” he says, his voice full of awe.

I don’t stop to think about how impossible that is. We can’t be fated mates. He’s plastic, and I’m muzzled. But my inner alpha doesn’t care if it makes sense. He just licks along the bond bite in the crook of Buddy’s neck.

“Please fill me. Oh, please. I’m so empty. Knot me, Timothy.”

I don’t bother with my fingers. My inner alpha lines up to Buddy’s hole and pushes inside. Buddy wails with a combination of lust and something else. Maybe fear or pain? I freeze.

“Baby, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t stop. I need it,” he growls.

I slide in all the way to the hilt. He’s so fucking tight, but he’s sopping wet and ready for it. He keens when I get balls deep. I grasp his hips and push in even further.

“I’m going to knot you. Fill you with my pups.”

“Oh, yes. Breed me, Timothy. Please.”

I withdraw and slam into him again. He bucks back to meet me, greedy for it, so I fuck him, the sound of our skin slapping and his whines echoing through the kitchen.

“I’m indestructible. Harder, Timothy. Give it to me harder.”

With that permission, I rail into him with an abandon that’s animalistic and feral.

“Give it to me. Oh, God. Give it to me!” he calls out.

Then I feel it. The base of my cock is widening.

Buddy shakes his head as it catches on his rim. “Oh, you’re so big. Oh, Timothy. Oh God. Oh God!”

I pull out completely and slam back inside of him. He lowers his chest to the countertop, his body surrendering to me completely as I pull out and ram my knot inside him. He said I couldn’t hurt him, and I believe him. My alpha wants to fuck him into oblivion.

I force my knot past his puffy rim one last time and thrust in as deep as my cock will go. His walls tighten around me, and I know he’s coming, milking my knot for seed.

“Sometimes red wolf shifters can make twins or triplets if the fuck is that good. I’m filling you up, baby. You’re going to have a whole litter for me,” I say.

He clenches around my knot again and whines as he comes again.

“Your belly is going to swell with my babies. You’ll be so full of them, you can’t walk,” I keep rambling, and I don’t care that it’s kinky or weird or whatever.

Buddy wants every bit of me, and I don’t want to stop.

“I’ll keep your belly swollen with pups, and your chest will swell with milk for them. When they’re born, they’ll drink from you, but I won’t stop filling your ass up. I won’t stop breeding you. Not ever.” I fuck into him again and again. His ass pulses around me, but it’s more subtle now. He’s come so many times his muscles can’t tighten around me properly anymore.

That’s when I notice some things have changed. Some alarming things. Buddy isn’t Buddy anymore. His skin is too soft, and it’s slightly wet from sweat. The seam along the top of his neck has completely fused together and his hands have fingernails—actual fingernails. My inner alpha can’t process it. So I don’t worry about it. I don’t even wonder what it means.

Buddy is mine. That’s all that matters.