The air in the small, lavish room was thick and humid, a stew of sweat, musk, and a desperate, low-grade animal excitement. The only light was a single, dim bedside lamp, casting long, writhing shadows on the gold-leaf wallpaper.
Aram—a massive, full-blooded wolf, all thick muscle and raw power—was finishing. He was grunting, a deep, satisfied sound torn from his chest, his hips driving with brutal, rhythmic force into the defective girl pinned beneath him. His fists gripped her soft, full breasts, slapping them lightly as he pumped for his release, the casual violence a punctuation mark on his pleasure.
She was utterly still.
The defective girl's eyes were squeezed shut, long, dark hair fanned out across the crumpled velvet pillows, partially obscuring her face. There were no moans, no cries—just the shuddering intake of breath as his weight crushed her into the mattress. She wasn't looking at him, and she wasn't looking at the four other shadows standing in the room.
Those shadows were wolves, powerful and eager. They were growling, low and deep in their throats, a sound of anticipation and intense, pent-up desire. Most of them had never been with a she-wolf before, but this was a defective—an interchangeable, expendable luxury. A wet hole for their use. Their breathing was ragged, punctuated by the slick, rhythmic sounds of their own hands working on themselves. They watched the girl's still form, excited by the simple, brutal act, their turns imminent.
With a final, explosive thrust and a ragged roar, Aram emptied himself into her. He collapsed for a brief, satisfied moment before rolling off. His face was flushed, triumphant. He didn't spare the girl a glance. Instead, he grabbed the corner of the heavy, silk bedsheet and casually wiped the viscous fluids from his arousal, dropping the soiled fabric back onto the bed without a care.
As he strode past the waiting wolves, the smallest of the group—a lean, desperate-looking male—didn't wait for Aram to clear the doorway. He lunged onto the bed, already half-hard, pushing the girl's legs apart with his knee as she flinched, still utterly silent.
Aram stepped into the hallway, the chaotic energy of the Warrior Exam House washing over him like a wave.
The opulent hallway pulsed with a desperate, frenetic energy. Full-blooded wolves moved with a hurried intensity, their boisterous laughter and crude propositions a suffocating reminder of the transactional nature of affection within these walls. Every glance, every touch felt weighted with unspoken demands, a currency exchanged for scraps of better treatment. Luxurious tapestries, depicting a glorified past of pack life, hung mockingly above the open bartering of bodies. Hands roamed with a forced familiarity, and the air hung thick with the cloying scent of mingled musks, a testament to the house's descent into something ugly and coercive, far from any true intimacy.
Aram didn't even notice the scene playing out just a few yards down the hall. Three full-blooded wolves had cornered a young defective girl against a column. She was kneeling, head bowed, her hands meekly folded in her lap, her body trembling. Her whimpering was almost drowned out by the thick, focused panting of the men surrounding her. One by one, in quick, feral succession, they finished their brutal, collective release. Three distinct splattering sounds were followed by gasps of male pleasure as a thick, viscous sheet of sperm coated the back of her head and shoulders, streaking down her thin dress.
"Ryan!"
Ryan flinched, his head whipping over his shoulder as he navigated the bustling thoroughfare, attempting to tune out the pervasive sounds of rampant sexual activity—the moans, the grunts, the whispered propositions—that constantly filled the air. He kept his head down, acutely aware of everything going on, desperately trying to shut the reality of the house out of his mind.
Jonathan Myers, a figure he desperately wished to avoid, was hurrying towards him, a frantic glint in his eyes. Before Ryan could react, the massive, full-blooded wolf, Aram, muscled and unyielding, slammed into him, shoving him forcefully into the gilded wall. A sharp pain shot through Ryan's back as he hit it with a thud, his face scrunching in agony.
Aram chuckled, a guttural sound of amusement at Ryan's easy displacement, then continued his journey down the hall without a backward glance.
Jonathan reached Ryan, extending a hand to help him up, a hint of desperation, rather than smugness, about him. Ryan gratefully took the offered hand, quickly disengaging as soon as he was upright. He needed to get to Trinity's early; he still hadn't spoken to her, and he wanted to clear the air before they made it to the Warrior's School.
"We could use you," Jonathan pressed, his voice low and urgent. He was keenly aware of the scarcity of strong, brave, and capable defectives, and he needed every one of them on his side. He had a plan, but he just needed a few more people to join his cause.
"Are you out of your mind!" Ryan hissed, his voice barely a whisper, praying to the Moon Goddess that no one overheard them amidst the surrounding clamor. He wanted no part of whatever revolution Jonathan was planning. Ryan's sole focus was to mind his own business and keep his friends safe. Currently, they were both safe. He was the only one who still had to stay at the defective boarding house. As long as his friends were fine, he could endure some rough housing.
"I have shit to lose, and I'm not trying to get roped into… your thing." Ryan felt an oncoming migraine, trying desperately to avoid speaking the words that would most likely get him killed right alongside Myers.
Ryan wasn't as pessimistic as Jonathan. He knew he could survive pack life. The full-blooded wolves would be difficult, but he could deal with difficult. Dead was another thing entirely.
"My thing!" Jonathan retorted, his voice edged with a mix of frustration and incredulity. He couldn't comprehend how some of them could be so obtuse. This isn't his crusade; it was all of theirs. He knew Ryan was still one of the lucky ones—his faded mate was the beta's daughter. His life would always be far better than everyone else's. And because of that, Ryan refused to take a stand. Jonathan couldn't stand this kind of one-sided, idiotic behavior. At the end of the day, they were all defectives; all of them were expendable. And the second there was a new queen, she would probably have them all killed.
Just another blip, another massacre to be written down in a little book about how they had a small little goof that one year. No one would know their names. They would end up in unmarked graves like the rest of his friends, destined to be worm food.
Jonathan didn't care what it took. He wanted to get out of here. Even if it led to his death. He wanted to die free. He wanted to die where there'd be a tombstone above his grave.
"You'll beg for my help, when they start targeting your girl." Jonathan was certain that once all of them ended up staying in the Warrior Exam House, they were no longer safe. Not even Ryan's fragile mate.
"We'll see," Ryan tossed the words carelessly over his shoulder, already turning away. He truly didn't want to talk to this guy any longer. He needed to get to Trinity.
Throwing open the heavy doors at the end of the hallway, all he could hear behind him were the sounds of rampant sexual activity and Jonathan's continued ranting.
"Hey." Trinity's voice carried a hint of confusion as the cacophony of the hallway flooded into the open space with Ryan's arrival. She stood just at the bottom of a set of steps, having just arrived herself, eager to meet up with him.
"I'm sorry."
The words tumbled out of both their mouths simultaneously, a clumsy utterance that caused a shared moment of laughter to bubble between them.
"Umm… I didn't get it before. Alphas and what it means to go against them. I'm sorry, I can't expect you to have told me everything. When I didn't know anything," Trinity laughed awkwardly, a flush creeping up her neck.
"Even though I couldn't tell you anything, my parents, they helped get rid of Mickey. Ran him out of town."
Trinity's brows furrowed in confusion. She had always assumed that when she and Jess escaped that night, Mickey never found them or came looking for them because he assumed they went to the police, so he just skipped town.
Trinity couldn't help the shine in her eyes. She shouldn't care that they were in a weird place. With a sudden surge of emotion, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.
Ryan groaned in pain, but decided to bear through it, his hands gently rubbing her back as a soft smile spread across his face, looking down at her.
"Come on, can't be late," Ryan mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they began to walk.
"You know I love you." she laughed, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.
"I know.!"
The pair found themselves in a comfortable silence as they walked through the forest. Towering pine trees, their branches reaching towards the clear sky, surrounded them. In the distance, majestic mountains, their peaks still capped with snow, pierced the horizon.
The air was crisp and clean, carrying the invigorating scent of pine and rich earth.
They walked deeper into the woods, the muffled sounds of the distant house fading behind them, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird. A profound sense of contentment settled between them as they breathed in the fresh air, their lungs expanding with each deeper inhalation.
"I think I like it here!" Trinity found herself admitting unexpectedly, her voice soft and a touch surprised.
Ryan's brows pulled together; he didn't quite feel the same. The pack lands were undeniably beautiful, and the natural surroundings were amazing. But he had a family. If his brother wasn't here, this would never be home. It was still a prison cell for Ryan, just one he could live in.
"That's good," he murmured, a worry growing for her increasing optimism. Things were ever-changing in the pack. For now, it was required for all defectives to be in their home packs for safety concerns. But once those concerns were gone, he worried that she would be dragged back into the human realm, somewhere that it seemed she had slowly started to forget.
He didn't want to be the one to tell her that this was most likely temporary. The pack didn't truly want them here. Her father did, but the rest of them didn't.
As they got closer to the Warrior House, they noticed a small gathering crowd out front, a clear indication that most people had finally made their way there. Ryan and Trinity stuck together, their eyes scanning the faces for Jess. They wondered why it was so hard to spot the only person there with blue hair, but for some reason, they couldn't locate her to save their lives.