Chapter 13: Octavia - Pack of Mine

I wake up to the moonlight cascading down from the window onto the bed, the trees’ shadows slow dancing on the floor around me. Tristan remains on the wood, curled up exactly where he was when I dozed off.

Damn, I slept the entire day away.

I guess I really needed it. The concrete floor surely wasn’t doing my bones any justice. My stomach is growling and twisting, absolutely begging me to feed it, so I jump out of bed to wake up Tristan.

Everything aches as I leave the silk sheets and throw on the clothes I left in the bathroom earlier, tiptoeing around the sand colored wood.

Approaching him, I squat down and lightly stroke his soft fur. He yawns and stretches as he stands up to look me in the face. His sad blue eyes are full of pain, like his bruised body carried over in the transformation even though it’s not visible.

“Hi, I slept too long, and I’m really hungry.”

I stand all the way up and drag my heavy body to leave his room, where he silently follows me, like a big dog walking behind its owner. His paws are so gentle on the floor, almost completely silent. If he wanted to sneak up on me, I’d never hear him.

When we approach the kitchen, he nudges into my torso with his snout.

“Yes?”

I look down at him and touch the top of his head, right between his ears. His eyes close peacefully – he seems to enjoy my touch quite a bit.

“I can’t cook you food as a wolf, or really at all, to be honest.”

Right, duh.

“I’ll peek around the fridge for something.” I watch him as he sits on his hind legs next to the dark marble island. “Thank you, by the way.”

The refrigerator is half empty, filled with a bunch of human boy kibble like beef and rice meal prep or Greek yogurt. I decide on a Tupperware full of some kind of ground meat and veggies and begin to microwave it.

Snooping around the cabinets more, I find silverware to eat with, napkins and a glass for a drink.

“Where’s the bar?”

I dart my eyes to Tristan and he guides me to a cabinet with a mini cooler in a corner of the living room.

This fridge is stocked with wine, seltzers, mixers and juice. Fancy bottles of liquor decorate the shelf and I don’t recognize most of them, despite being a bartender for the last few years. I snatch up one of the nicest-looking whiskey bottles, place a few ice cubes in my cup and make a heavy pour.

God knows I need it.

I find my warmed-up food beeping at me and make myself a seat in a leather barstool at the island. A few bites into my food and a few sips into my drink, I realize that I’m dining all alone.

“And what do wolves eat?” I hesitantly ask, not sure if I want the answer.

“Meat.” He says nothing else, and grumpily lies on the floor next to my stool.

Oh.

I scarf my ground meat and veggies down and pour another glass of whiskey. The burn of liquor sears my throat more than usual and I savour it. I’m sure my mouth is probably bruised from how rough Skyler and Valentine were with me.

I spark up a cigarette and strut around the living room, taking in the woodland view and checking out all the leather furniture while Tristan watches me from the floor.

One glass shortly turns into three, three turns into five and before I realize it, I’m shitfaced. I found a record player at some point, probably Valentine’s considering the selection of music, and “Higher” by Creed blasts through the house as I dance around on the rug.

Tristan lies in the corner, his blue wolf eyes closely tracking me frolicking around the room. He doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t even flinch – just enjoys the view.

Bliss, that’s what this feeling is. Drunken bliss.

I forget what happened last night in the woods, I forget the dog bed I slept on, I forget my job and fake friends and everything about my life just over two weeks ago. The alcohol gallops through my veins and I feel absolutely weightless.

After manically dancing for the last twenty minutes, I decide I need to sit. My eyes catch a sight of a lovely black leather chair and I plop myself down, spilling my full glass onto the side table next to it.

“Ooopsss.”

Shit. I’m way more drunk than I thought I was. Tristan approaches me and rests his canine head in my lap.

“Gooddd puppppy.” My words are coming out so much sloppier than they sound in my head.

I close my eyes for a minute or two to rest, enjoying the euphoric feeling of poison coursing through every inch of my skin.

This life really isn’t too bad, if they’d let me out of the basement. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I could see things turning around and me living happily upstairs with my captors forever.

Or I’m just drunk and stupid.

My body melts into the chair and I start to see visions of two wolves pacing through a forest. The fuck? Did I fall asleep?

The forest has trees just like the ones surrounding me now. My brows knit in confusion, I try to get a closer look, like I’m trying to read small print, and suddenly I’m jolted forward into a third-person view. I’m no longer seeing things behind my eyelids, I’m actually floating in the sky above them.

The wolves speak to each other, but I’m too far away to hear what they’re saying. I force my limbs to swim through the air to get closer and realize I recognize them.

It’s Valentine and Skyler, but how is it possible that I can see them right now?

“You’re going to have to tell her when we get home.” The grey wolf says to the brown one.

“Fuck you, Val. Who’s in charge here? I’ll do as I please.” Skyler grits his teeth and growls, but he doesn’t budge.

I swim closer and they continue to walk through the dense thicket without a word to each other. The silence is awkward and chilling.

Can they see me? Where am I?

My body begins shaking, the edges of my vision start to blur and my lungs feel like they’re being squeezed to a pulp. The wolves walk further and further away from me until they’re just ants now and I shoot out of the vision back into the living room.

What the fuck?

I gasp and my shaking hands grab at my chest, trying to catch my breath. Tristan’s wet canine tongue licks my face repeatedly and he stares at me with concern.

“Holy fuckkk, what just happened?”

I rub my temples deeply. My head is pounding and my words are still slightly slurred.

“I don’t know, it looks like you had a seizure or something. Are you epileptic?” He looks troubled.

“No… Not that I know of.”

My vision starts to clear enough to see straight and I try to stand up, but I quickly stumble to the floor. The room violently spins around me and I seem to have forgotten that not only is something probably wrong with my brain, I’m also drunk.

“I need to tell you something, Octavia…” He stands over me and nudges my body to help me sit up. “It can’t wait any longer.”

I try to focus on him, but I’m convinced I’m riding on a carousel and it’s not slowing down.

“Can it wait till I’m not drunk, please?”

I think the meat and veggies aren’t sitting well.

His wolf paws pace around the living room and he breathes heavily – I can feel his anguish from over here. His body shakes like a newspaper on a windy day and he refuses to sit still.

“I… I can’t carry this guilt any more.” He speaks as softly as a whisper and I can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or me anymore.

“Tristan, not now.”

My stomach bubbles up and I can feel the bile in the back of my throat.

“We killed your boyfriend, Connor. And then we ate him. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I cover my mouth and sprint to the kitchen. My dinner and drinks pour into the empty sink and I rinse the tap water on my tongue to wash down the horrendous taste.

At least the room stopped turning.

“Yeah, T. I kinda figured that when Val showed up at my door with his penis.” I sigh and spray my vomit down the drain. “I also have prophetic seizures now I guess, so that’s cool.”

Fucking Christ, maybe I should convince them to take me to a hospital or something. That counts two unexplained medical episodes now.

He begins to hyperventilate and suddenly a loud crack fills the room. Tufts of blonde fur pop into the air and he cries in the fetal position into the rug.

“Fuck,” he pants out like he’s in pain.

I slowly approach him and he stands up, naked and glorious in front of me. God damn, I didn’t realize how fit he was under his clothes.

He’s lean – the veins on his arms easily pop out and roll as he rubs his hands over them. His cheese grater abs and defined chest are covered in black and blue bruises.

He has no tattoos and his pale skin and blonde hair glow in the moonlight, a strange contrast to his dark purple splotches. Small and circular scars cover his chest and upper stomach, but I can’t figure out what they’re from.

The music comes to a halt as the record finishes and we stand awkwardly in front of each other. He makes no effort to cover his cock as it hangs at my belly button, begging me to look down at it.

When I’m finally brave enough, I take a peek and watch it swell the longer that I stare.

He’s not nearly as big as Skyler – in girth or in length, or even as a whole person – but it curves slightly upwards and I just know it would hit all the perfect spots. I fight a desperate ache to wrap my hands around it.

“I’m sorry.” He looks down at me and his bright blue eyes shine with reflections of the kitchen lights.

My mouth drools looking at the man in front of me, even damaged as much as he is.

Connor was nothing like these men around me, physically but also mentally. I begged him for more and he gave me less each time. The constant disappointment, the pain of the abuse, the grief…

“I’m glad he’s dead.”

The words slip out of my lips before I realize I said them. Oops.

Tristan stares at me, confused, his brows tightening as he says nothing. We sit in the awkward silence for a moment, each wondering what the other is thinking.

I take a hesitant step closer to him to touch his stomach and his bruises. He lets out a restrained groan, and the deep sound makes my knees weak.

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I place both of my hands on his jaw, turning his head each way and inspecting him. His cock grows stiffer and pushes into my belly, begging me to place my small hands on it next.

“I want to know… what you feel like.” His eyes are hooded and filled with desire, but he stands completely still, hands by his sides like an obedient soldier. “Skyler and Valentine know, is it… my turn yet?”

Fuck, his words hurt me, but damn, do they turn me on like a light switch.

Poor Tristan, he’s right. He was tied up, forced to watch. He’s been the kindest and sweetest to me, of course, he deserves to be reciprocated.

Fuck it.

“Yes, it is.”

I stand up high on my tiptoes, grip my fingers into the back of his blonde hair and pull his lips into mine. They’re soft, puffy and trembling with anxiety.

He moans, his mouth widening for me to kiss him deeper and his voice coats my tongue. The sweet smell of freshly baked cookies pours off his skin and floods my nostrils, making me moan back into him.

The softness of Tristan is appallingly different from Skyler or Valentine. He’s enchanting, like Prince Charming.

He wraps his pale hands around my waist, pulling me closer to him. Our tongues explore each other and they tango together in each of our mouths.

I want more, I want to feel him. I want to thank him for everything he did for me, for the pain and the sacrifice he made, for being so compassionate with me today and every day.

“Am I hurting you?” Nervousness makes my lips tingle.

Carefully, I rub my hands over his chest and arms, attempting to avoid the dark bruises. My fingers trail over his sculpted shoulders and softly brush over the odd circle-shaped scars. He shivers and seems to enjoy my gentle touch there.

“You could never hurt me.” My eyes close as he places both his hands on my blushing cheeks and cradles my face.

I know he means physically, but I think he also means deeper than that. He’s so adorable, so sympathetic, so innocent. Seriously, how did he end up here?

My hands slowly slide down his chest, then his abs, and I pause at his V-line. This guy goes to the gym often and it’s so obvious.

He throbs in front of me – the physical restraint he’s forcing himself to do manifests in his cock. I can see the veins pumping blood through him and he waits patiently for me to touch him, like he wants the tease to last longer.

Anxiously, I lower my hands to his manhood and as soon as our skin makes contact, his lips part with a soft moan and his neck tilts his head up to the ceiling.

He keeps his hands at his sides like he’s waiting for permission to do anything else, but his body absolutely melts at my touch.

Tristan is my candle wax and I am his flame. The sounds coming out of his desperate mouth make my panties so fucking slick.

In silence still, I begin to stroke him slowly, watching precum drip out of the tip. He’s already so into it, and we’ve just started.

His fists clench at his sides and he groans, his abs clenching with anticipation with each one of his shallow breaths.

The restraint… It's so fucking sexual.

“Octavia, can I please touch you?” He says through gritted teeth.

His voice catches me off guard, but when he finally looks back down at me with hooded eyes, I shyly nod at him.

Yes, Tristan, please fucking touch me.

Without wasting any time, he grasps my shirt and yanks it over my head, taking in the view of my breasts and peaked nipples.

He paces back a few steps from me and gazes at my body in awe from head to toe like a piece of fine art. My exposed skin freezes from the cold air and I resist the urge to cover myself up.

“Octavia… you are something else. You are… fucking everything.”

A blush kisses my cheeks again.

He strolls backwards and lounges into the black leather couch behind him, his legs spread and his cock standing up tall. Delicious.

He rubs his fingers along his open jaw and his wide stance requests me to “come and get it.”

I feel a longing unlike anything I’ve felt before. There’s a vibration in the air that genuinely pulls me towards him, like a force that I can’t control.

“Tristan…”

I need him inside me. Now.

My bottoms go flying off my lower half as fast as I can snatch them and I practically pounce onto his awaiting lap. The string pulling on my chest is tightening like my spine is, itching for a release that can only be undone by his touch.

He tugs me into him and his swollen lips plant kisses on my neck and chest, the feeling sending electricity down my back and I moan for him.

“Octavia…”

All we can say are each other’s names.

He continues to softly brush his lips all over me and my naked body grinds on top of his crotch. I work carefully to avoid touching his bruised ribs and eyes, but I’m on the edge already and he hasn’t entered me yet.

“Please… Can I please fuck you tonight?”

The politeness, the tender touch he has, the energy in the room right now – I’m overwhelmed.

His hands lightly stroke across my skin while he patiently waits for a reply. I close my eyes and push my mouth into his, needing more of him immediately.

“Yes, please.”

A part of me enjoys the tease, the desire reeking off of him right now while he begs for me, but I can’t wait any fucking longer.

My hand grabs his curved length and slides it all the way in where I’m already soaked for him.

“Holy fuck,” he grunts out with pleasure.

The back of his head pushes into the couch and we moan in union. I move up and down slowly on him, his cock hitting all the right spots in this position. He picks the weight of his head back up and digs his fingers into my long hair, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth.

The passion takes over his body and he grips my hips, pushing me up and down on him faster and faster. He can barely kiss me anymore as his lips hover over mine, filled with groans.

I’ve never felt intensity like this before – like a long-lost lover from a past life. My body responds to his touch like he’s the commander of my spaceship. Everywhere his fingertips brush sends sparks across my skin.

“Tristan…” I can’t even speak.

My hands reach up to his neck and I bite hard into his shoulder. Pleasure covers every inch of me and I’m unsure of how to contain all of it in my body.

He slides down on the couch, cradles my hips above him and pulls me forward to lie flat on his chest while I straddle his thighs.

“Your pussy feels like it was made for me.”

He reaches down to push his soft fingertips onto my clit and his words right in my ear bring me closer and closer to sweet release.

“I’m gonna…”

My words miss their train ride to my lips and he knows exactly what to do. One of his hands grips my ass, the other spins in circles on my nub and he pounds his curved cock into me, hitting my g-spot harder with every pump.

I can’t take it anymore, and I cry out, my loud moans probably vibrating the large glass windows as he continues to fuck me through my orgasm.

His hips rock unbelievably fast, the speed feeling impossible. My eyes try to look at the inside of my skull and every one of my limbs feels like Jell-O.

“Octavia…”

He slows, grips my ass with white knuckles and grinds my body back and forth on his length. I can feel him throbbing inside me, itching for his turn.

With a deep breath brushing my ear, he speaks again.

“Please…”

My sensitive clit rubs on his blonde and trimmed pubes with each movement, making my legs twitch.

“Yes, Tristan?” I await his request.

“Please… let me cum for you.”

Shaking off my orgasm, I push my body up and grab his face, tilting my head to tongue-kiss him deeply. I could die happily with my mouth on Tristan’s.

“How bad do you want it?” I egg him on. We both sweat and pant into each other’s faces.

His eyes flutter and he grits his teeth, twitching his cock inside me.

“Please… more than anything.”

I heavily debate denying him, just to see if he would obey me. He continues to grind my hips slowly on him, riding the edge.

“Fill me up, baby.”

And like a dog listening to a command, he pumps into me harder just a few more times and I feel his cock pulsate inside me, a warm liquid pouring out as he pulls out.

We lay there together for a few minutes, my head on his chest and covered in each other’s juices, breathing heavily in silence. I moan as he runs his fingers through my hair, about to put me back to sleep.

“Octavia, I’m gonna fall in love with you if we do that again.”

He closes his bruised eyes and I let his words dangle in the air between us. I don’t know what I just felt, but it was fucking magical. And I definitely want to do it again, so it seems he’ll be falling for me as much as I’ll fall for him.