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08 – Scars
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2025-07-09 00:16:26The claws didn't hurt my head as much as I expected them to. In fact, I felt a certain excitement about it; my wolf did. The aura between us was stronger, but this time he wasn't trying to mask any scent; he was actually avoiding it. There were a lot of pheromones in the air. His wolf scent was addictive, like an expensive perfume that only the richest and most exclusive people could afford to buy, wear, and match with their fragrance.
My body was submissive to his, and we hadn't gone beyond the kiss. All I had was a completely shrewd and delicious tongue that seemed to know all the main points of my mouth. I felt claws in my hair and on the little skin he had access to under his clothes, which he had given me minutes before. A part of me was beginning to let go. The inner wolf was slowly coming out. With my claws exposed, I touched Lancelot's skin, gently smoothing it. He then finally tore the clothes from my body with his claws, freeing the path from his mouth to my breasts, smoothing them with his tongue. I felt my body get even wetter, releasing my wolf scent. Lancelot growled at me as he licked my belly, showing his yellow eyes close to mine. With his body freed from his clothes and mine too, he took me to the floor, fiercely, still growling. It was too sexy to see him like that, especially remembering him attending to me hours ago. I was enjoying it, my wolf longing for what else he could show me. Then his breathing began to grow heavier, but I could see the pleasure on his face. “Naomi,” he called my name. “Say it,” I asked, as breathless as he was, while I felt his claws digging deeper and deeper, teasing me. “Say it, Lancelot,” I repeated. He then climbed on top of me, slowly, and I felt his breath heavy on my belly, licking it again, and then he bit me, and I let out a slight cry of surprise. He made eye contact, was thirsty, and then bit me again and again. My body writhed with pleasure and pain, and my wolf screamed inside, finally releasing my fangs. Even wetter, I dug my claws hard into his back, scratching, creating a path. I saw him writhe in pain and smelled the blood on my claws. “Naomi,” he growled at me. My wild side growled back, and then I dug my claws in again, retracing the same path, drawing even more blood. Lancelot then did the same, biting me and digging his claws into my head, making me bleed too. Restless and thirsty, I knew what I wanted: I wanted that body and that wolf. Pressing my claws against his skin, I climbed on top, leaving him underneath, submissive to me. My gaze burned with excitement as I looked at him. It had been so long since I had felt adrenaline. It was the right moment to make the decision to do it or not. I closed my eyes and smelled the wild scent of the environment. Lancelot wasted no time and shared the image of the forest with me. The olive scent of the leaves and the natural sounds woke the wolf up. So, I sat down with everything. I growled softly, feeling the slight pain of a great lack of penetration. Lancelot growled with pleasure, and then I began to move more wildly, digging my claws into every inch of his skin. His hands turned to my breasts, squeezing them. The smell of blood was pleasant. Feeling alive was pleasant. I wanted more. We wanted more. “Come on, transform,” I said. I finally said it. Throughout my life, I had never had the opportunity to ask for a change. Among wolves, this was a sexual term that indicated an interest in completely changing from wolf to human or from human to wolf. “Change, Lancelot,” I asked once more. He smiled mischievously, and then I heard the first crack of his spine bending. I felt an enormous arousal and sat down forcefully once more. Provoking a change during sex was overwhelming. It wasn't long before more changes presented themselves, and then my body reconnected to the situation. I changed, too. At that stage, more wolves than humans, we continued to have our night of pleasure. I didn't think about the triplets, I didn't think about the medium wolves, and I didn't know about Casper. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't blame myself.
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The Price of a Second Chance 172 – Future
He stared at me. Then he nodded once, slowly. "There’s one more thing," he said, his voice dropping a tone. "The smell. Your smell. Before, he was my anchor. Now he’s also a trigger. It’s too good. It’s like hunger. I know I’m not going to hurt you. I know." He swallowed dry. "But knowing and feeling are two different things."He let the body give in to my hand. I was supporting his weight for a few seconds, like someone holding the trunk of a tree that swings in the wind. Then he straightened, put the blanket back on his shoulders, a gesture almost too human for that day, and stood up. I got up together."I want to show you something." He guided me down the corridor to the iron door on the floor that led to the staircase. The lock inside was still hot from the heat that remained. We went down slowly. The concrete walls had claw marks, yes, but not as deep as I feared. The smell of sweat and stone took everything, and I saw on the ground a semicircle of scratches, like steps that adva
The Price of a Second Chance 171 – Changes
The road to his house was shorter than I remembered, as if the haste had swallowed up the miles. I left the car before the turn, as always, and followed on foot, with the cold wind hitting my face and bringing a smell that cut me inside: smoke, metal, and that rough note of wolf. The gate was half-open. The wood of the porch scratched. I stopped at the first step, took a deep breath, and went up slowly.The door gave in to the touch. The air inside was heavy, a remnant of heat coming from the stove and the breath of someone who did not sleep. I saw the broken frame leaning against the sill, splinters on the floor, and claw marks on the corner of the table. And then I saw him sitting on the steps of the room."Lancelot?""Naomi," he said.Closed the door, went to him, knees in the wood. I wanted to touch it immediately, embrace the pain, and cover the cracks. But first, I let him look at me."I smelled your scent on the road," I whispered. "What happened?"He turned his face only a lit
The Price of a Second Chance 170 – Many Thoughts
The house still smelled of smoke and sweat. The wood of the balcony had claw marks, the handrail was scratched, and fresh memories of what had happened a few hours before. I sat on the steps with my body covered by a blanket and my chest still burning. The sun rose slowly, burning the clouds with shades of orange and gray.The transformation chamber was still locked. I could still smell concrete, dry blood, and trapped wolf. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Casper’s smile. That false calm, that sick pleasure in seeing the chaos he himself caused. He had not come to talk.I ran my hand over my face, feeling the rough beard and hot skin. My body hurt as if I had fought against a wall. The transformations always left a trail of tense muscles, throbbing bones, and the mind trying to reorganize itself between two natures that never accepted each other completely.I took a deep breath, trying to drive away the sound. The cold air came in and burned my lungs, bringing the smell of the fore
The Price of a Second Chance 169 – Pain
I spent the morning fixing one of the pantry windows. My hands hurt, but the pain was welcome. It was simple, concrete. A crooked nail, a splinter in the wood. When I finished, I sat on the balcony chair, watching the smoke rising from the chimney of the most distant houses. And that’s when I heard the engine. Slowly approaching.My body reacted before even the mind understood. The hair on the arm shuddered, and the wolf stood up in the chest, sniffing the air. The smell came with the wind. Casper.The black truck stopped in front of the house. He came out as someone who is not in a hurry, with that damned smile of someone who thinks that the world revolves around his own ego. "Good morning, Lancelot."I stood. I did not answer.He climbed the steps of the balcony with the confidence of those who are at home. "Beautiful place. Simple, but functional. It suits you.""You should go away.""And miss the chance to see the great wolf trying to live like an ordinary man?" he laughed, that
The Price of a Second Chance 168 – Myself
The forest always had a way of calling me. Sometimes with the sound of the wind, sometimes with the smell of wet earth. Today, silence called me. Drove to the quarry and left the car before the turn. I walked the rest on foot, without haste, with the moon lighting the way.The trees leaned as if they wanted to hide me, but nothing could hide what I carried inside. Each step made the ground creak, and the wolf in me moved, impatient, rubbing inside the skin. It was as if I was tired of waiting.I took a deep breath. The air was cold and sharp. That kind of cold that doesn’t hurt, just remember you’re still here. It was not fear of what I could find. It was the fear of what I could become.I stopped in the middle of the clearing. The same place where, days ago, Adrian had forced me to confront the monster. There were still marks on the ground: broken earth, broken stones. Signs of struggle. Signs of me. I touched the ground with my fingertips. Cold.I closed my eyes and heard the sound
The Price of a Second Chance 167 – Three Men
The coffee was too quiet. The clean cups gleamed on the shelves, the smell of fresh coffee still hovering in the air, but no one came to pick them up. The empty tables stared at me, and the chairs, too aligned, seemed to mock my attempt at normality. I already knew that the story had done damage, but I did not imagine that it would be like this.The doorbell rang. Three men came in. The first, fat, with a tattered vest and small eyes; the second, tall, with a strong smell of cigarettes and anger; the third, younger, with the kind of expression that only accompanies those who want to taste something. They did not look at the menu. Nor the tables. Only to me. The air became denser, and the wolf inside me opened his eyes. I felt him wake up there, deep down, with a low, muffled but present growl. I took a deep breath."Coffee?" I asked, trying to sound neutral.The one with the cigarette snorted, crossing his arms. "I think you should be apologizing, not drinking coffee."The fat man too
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