Page 40 of Lycan

I sliced into her throat with the same momentum. Deeper and deeper until she lay still and lifeless under me. I would have liked to offer her a slow death, but my human awaited me. I tossed her head away from the rest of her body and shredded into the organ in the middle of her chest pumping blood through her. Just to be sure she was no more. I shook out my fur and blood went flying.

I approached my human, limp and laying on the floor. That foreign pressure in my insides throbbed fire through me. Only she had woken up this ache inside me. I carefully nudged her.

Her chest moved up and down with rhythm. I had studied the motion accompanied by soft inhalations while she slumbered before. A relaxing sound that soothed my urge to pace. She would live. The female lycan sliced into her body and it looked like there may be broken bones, but she would live. When I fed her my release, the bleeding cuts would also heal. But I must get her to safety and get her cleaned up.

A gasp came from behind me and I stiffened. Slowly I turned. The male scientist gasped again, holding his chest. His eyes widened on me, and he began to desperately scoot backward. Approaching the male, I flicked my ears back and forth.

“I know you. Creature 523. They called you Fenrir—” He continued to drag himself, but he would not outrun me and he seemed to recognize this. “W-wait, wait, I can help you!”

A growl vibrated from my throat.

“How?” What would he spew from his filthy humanmouth? I reached him and bared my teeth.

The sour scent of urine reeked from him. Monsters did not piss, we did not need to, everything we devoured was turned into an energy source. This human must not have fed on monster release recently if he could release urine this way. His chest puffed out and his heart thumped loud enough for me to hear.

“I can help you?—”

I sliced my claws straight through his face, rupturing his skull.

“Not interested,” I said. Just as with the female, I would have taken pleasure in doing the many things to him that he’d done to me. Ripping a rib out. Slicing his tongue . . . but my human was more important.

Returning to her side, I found her still unconscious. I carefully collected her against my chest, allowing her blood to seep into my fur. As I passed him, I forcefully stepped on the human’s chest, reveling in the pop of his ribcage flattening under my weight.

I huddled my mate close to my chest.

Time to return her to our den.

TWENTY-FOUR

FENRIR

She seemedfixated on cleaning herself off, which was why I now found myself poking at that lever she used to spit water. My claw gouged the metal, and I immediately retreated my paw. The round spout sputtered, and droplets came from its edges. Something was working if it was causing the water to come. Using the soft underside of my paw, I gently nudge the spout. This time, it sprayed without effort.

Water pelted the fur on my arm.

Success.

My tail swished behind me and a loud clatter exploded in the small space. I took care and still broke things, but I would move the hindering objects once my human was clean and healed. I reached her where I had set her at the edge of her nest.

With one claw, I tore away the barrier covering her thin flesh then collected my now bared human and returned to the water. Cradling her to my chest, I squeezed into the tight space under the water.

She groaned and nuzzled her small face to my chest. I released a pleasured vibration from my chest, running my paw down her back in a soothing motion. When she bathed me, she rubbed the little floral scented thing all over me. I plucked it upwith two of my claws and rubbed the end of it down her spine. She bathed me with such care, yet, I could not do the same to her because of my claws.

I clicked my teeth together and struggled to rub the thing on her head. My claws sliced through the soap, and it thudded on the ground. I snarled. I did the best I could and at least she no longer had blood crusting her body.

I forced my attention away from the cuts. I did not like seeing them on her, but now that she was no longer crusted from blood, her wounds were exposed. Wounds that needed to be healed.

A twitch of my claw on the lever in the opposite direction shut off the water. I shook my head, sending water spraying and my antlers gouged into the side of the box. She was very protective of her den. I must take more care.

Stepping out, I pulled a cloth over her as she had done before and the fibers collected the water.

With a few strides I returned to her nest and carefully set her down and the cloth fell aside, leaving her bare to me. Her breasts continued to call my attention. The tip, her nipples, were peaked. The reactive little flesh . . . I leaned over her to lick one. She groaned and as if calling it forth, my member emerged from my slit. I licked her again and her nipples puckered more.

My hips twitched forward as if I were mounting her. I would claim her, but she must be healed first. Slick coated my tip, and I guided it to her lips. I used the back of my claw to move her slumbering face to the side. Upon prodding her lips with the wet tip, her mouth opened. A guttural sound left me. Half growl, half snarl. In her sleep, she lapped the tip, her mouth suckling.

I gripped my cock in hand and stroked down to my knot. It twitched in my hand, releasing more of my release into her mouth. She continued to suckle me, swallowing as I offered her more nectar.

I watched as her injuries knit closed until she no longer bled. A satisfied chuff left my muzzle, and I squeezed my knot. Her breasts moved with each of her inhales. I swelled and my release ripped through my member and buckled my knees. I grunted, leaning over her to sink my paw onto her nest. I heaved out breaths as my need gushed from me with painful ecstasy. I pulled my cock from her mouth and my release splashed across her chest, painting her in ribbons of my claim.

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