Page 12 of Rivals

Viktor

Viktor hit the other werewolf like a wrecking ball, tackling him clean off Nick and slamming him into the ground. They went down hard, the impact rattling through Viktor’s bones, dirt flying as they rolled in a tangle of limbs, snarls ripping through the night air.

The other werewolf fought back, but he was weaker. Slower. Viktor overpowered him with ease, shoving him down, crushing him into the earth until the bastard had nowhere left to go. He straddled his waist, muscles flexed, his forearm braced against the werewolf’s throat, pressing just enough to feel his pulse hammer beneath his skin.

"He’s mine." The words came low, gritted out through bared teeth, each syllable sharp and heavy with menace. "Touch him again, and I’ll tear your throat out."

In a frantic, scrambling movement, the other werewolf twisted free, bolting into the darkness. Coward.

Viktor stood over the spot where he’d been, chest heaving, breath still coming too fast, his claws flexing at his sides likehe hadn't quite gotten enough. The burn of adrenaline still thrummed in his blood, the itch to rip and tear not yet satisfied.

A sound behind him. A sharp inhale. A body shifting against rough bark. Viktor turned.

Nick was sliding down the oak, his limbs finally giving out. Sweat slicked his skin, glistening under the moonlight. His throat was marked red from where clawed fingertips had pressed too hard. His chest still rose and fell too fast, like he hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that he was safe.

Viktor expected thanks. He expected submission.

Instead, Nick lifted his chin. His eyes met Viktor’s, glassy with exhaustion, but still cutting like a knife. "What doyouwant?"

The question hit Viktor like a physical blow. After everything—after marking him and then rescuing him from another wolf—Nick still had the nerve to challenge him?!

Frustration clawed at Viktor’s insides, sharp and restless, twisting into something darker. His body still thrummed from the fight, from the raw physicality of overpowering another wolf, from the primal satisfaction of watching an enemy run from him. His blood was hot, his pulse still pounding in his ears, his cock still hard from the rush of adrenaline and dominance.

And Nick—stubborn, sharp-tongued, impossible Nick—had thefucking audacityto look at him like he hadn’t just been seconds away from being overpowered.

Viktor tried to steady the fire licking through his veins. Nick smelled like him. His scent clung to that overheated skin, soaked into him, a reminder of what had already happened between them. And it still wasn’t enough.

“I just saved your ass,” Viktor growled, voice rough, low, threatening. “Aren’t you even grateful?”

Nick, ever the defiant little bastard, didn’t flinch. “I didn’t ask for your protection,” he spat. But Viktor caught the way his voice wavered, the slight tremor at the edges. Not fear.

Somethingelse.

Viktor’s muscles coiled tight as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Nick didn’t back away. Heat rolled off him in waves, his bare skin flushed from exertion, from fear, from whatever dangerous game they were playing. Viktor inhaled deeply, his body reacting before his mind could catch up, blood surging south.

He had already seen Nick spread out beneath him, already felt him shudder under his hands, already heard the sounds he made when he was undone. His cock throbbed at the memory, at the phantom sensation of Nick's cock hard against him as Viktor pinned him against the ground.

Nick swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Viktor’s eyes followed the movement despite himself.

"You really want to be used, Nick?" The words came out as a growl, something dark and hungry curling around them.

Nick inhaled sharply. His pulse jumped beneath his skin, his pupils dilating, the barest flicker of something uncertain in those infuriatingly blue eyes before he locked it down. Viktor saw it. Hefeltit. And it sent a fresh surge of hunger through his veins.

Nick smelled right like this—wrecked and worn down, his skin still marked from earlier, sticky with dried evidence of Viktor’s dominance. The wolf inside him rumbled with satisfaction, pleased with the scent, pleased with the lingering proof that Nick had already been marked.

But it wasn’t enough.

When it came to this asshole, it was never enough.

Viktor towered over him, fully hard now, aching with the need to finish what they started. Nick’s breath came too quick, his skin flushed, his fingers twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to push Viktor away or pull him closer.

Every instinct screamed at Viktor to pin him down again, to show him what it really meant to be owned by a wolf.

But then Nick’s lips curled.

That infuriating smirk—the same one that had driven him insane at work, the same one that had pushed him over the edge tonight. Even here, naked, vulnerable, covered in Viktor’s scent, Nick had the audacity to look pleased with himself. “Oh, I get it. That's why you’re stalking me tonight—you want me all to yourself.”

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