Gula: The Oswald Witches

by Mathew Ortiz

  Before coming into the house, he had changed back into his cargo shorts. Not good manners to walk around in your underwear at your host’s home. The mad dash back to the house and into his room was done in record time. He had almost lost control and wolfed out as he and Oliver had kissed. Oliver smelled so good, and Donovan had felt his canines drop and his vision gray out as he started shifting. The odd rippling of muscles along his back had screamed at him that he was losing control. He had barely made it to his room before ripping off his shorts and his boxers.

  In his mind, the scent and image of Oliver tormented him and triggered a heightened awareness of his body. Tumbling into bed, he fisted his engorged cock and pulled the foreskin back over the swollen head. Precum leaked like mad, and all it took was four strokes before he blew, his body convulsing with the climax.

  Fuuuuuck!

  Donovan started and sat bolt upright in bed. Did he just hear that? Who said that? No one was in the room. So why did it feel like Oliver was in the room with him? Spooked but satiated, he flopped back into the bed and sighed. I’d rather be naked with Oliver than by myself.

  Dipping his finger into a cooling puddle on his stomach, Donovan savored the flavor of his cum. He loved how he tasted. Sighing, he scooted out of the bed and rubbed the remnants into his flesh as he walked to the bathroom. His blood slowed, and fatigue hit him. He wanted to go to bed, but he reeked. The shower would wash off the sweat and cum, and it would also help him unwind the rest of the way. He opened a linen closet and pulled out a fluffy towel, hanging it from a peg by the walk-in shower. The bathroom sported a large vanity and shower all done in muted earth tone tiles. The shower had only a glass wall and door. Opening it, he reached in and turned the taps, adjusting the water until it was near scalding. Stepping in, the water stung like quills. The orange shower gel he found in the wall niche added a nice scent to the air as he scrubbed his skin clean.

  Damn, Oliver’s lips were nice, plump, and supple, and Donovan had wanted to throw the little witch down on his back, sling his legs over his shoulders and pound that pale ass into submission.

  Solids were so weird about their bodies. Why would the Other create a form for experiencing life and the pleasures it provides and not want the owners to use it? Sex and sexuality were fluid amongst shifters. Wolf shifters were not the only ones in the Water Clan. There were other animal shifters, sex shifters, or form shifters. You name it; they were out there.

  Donovan sniffed out Oliver’s arousal for him. Wolf shifters could tell the emotional state of others by their smell. It wasn’t an inborn gift. Young wolves had to learn the different emotional scents, and wolf cubs made mistakes all the time until they were taught how to read the smells. Anger, fear, happiness, and arousal were some of the easiest to determine, but the one smell all wolves knew, deep from within their lupine souls, was the mate smell. It was markedly different from any other. It resonated in the very core of the person smelling it. It drew them, commanded them to find the owner of the scent, and claim their mate. Their wolf wouldn’t rest until he or she found the owner of the enticing aroma, and Oliver Blackthorne was his mate.

  To say Donovan was shocked to find his mate was an understatement. He wasn’t looking for a mate. It was the last thing he wanted, or so he thought, and now with his fated mate under his nose, all Donovan could think of was making the snarky little witch his.

  Witch…witch! Oh hell, Dathan is going to be so pissed! While his brother may be all pro alliance, having your brother bring home a mate that was a witch was another thing. Donovan didn’t doubt his brother would be against the two of them sealing their mating bond. That was putting it mildly. Dathan was going to shit kittens. He knew pursuing Oliver was a mistake, an epic folly, but the mating bond call was too powerful. His skin itched to find Oliver. His wolf paced within him, demanding it.

  Turning off the taps, he toweled off. His cock was still plump, refusing to go down. It didn’t help that the air held the occasional whiffs of Oliver. He picked up his phone and dialed Dathan. He needed to distract himself. On the third ring, Dathan picked up.

  “Hey, bro, how goes it?” Dathan’s voice grounded him and helped him find center.

  “Good. I have to say I haven’t seen or scented any bullshit. There aren’t any agendas. No, scratch that. I was told about a big one. The youngest brother, Oliver Blackthorne, is set to compete in something called the Ascension Trials—“

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think he has a chance? How many competitors are there? How many powers does he have?” The words rushed like water over rocks.

  “Whoa, Dathan, back it up. Why is it so important?”

  “If he becomes the next Keeper of the Earth Clans, forming an alliance with his family would seal our protection until he dies. Alliances are honored family member to family member. Mia Blackthorne was the first to break the trend. I’m hoping—no, praying--our alliance with Margaret Oswald is strong enough to pass to him if he becomes Keeper. Fuck! No one would dare touch us then!” The excitement in his voice bled over the phone, making Donovan’s eyebrows shoot up.

  “I didn’t realize—”

  “You stick to Oliver Blackthorne and find out the details! This is your Alpha talking, and it’s a direct order.”

  “So you’re ordering me to spend time with Oliver Blackthorne?”

  “Yes, I am.” The absolute certainty of Dathan’s voice was new to him. His brother was in full Alpha mode.

  “Will do. Hey… miss you.” Donovan felt a lump form in his throat. It was hard being separated from his pack. He missed the closeness.

  “Miss you, too. More than you know.” The pained tone of his voice worried Donovan. His brother was shaping up to be a great Alpha, and he never showed any weakness in public. In private it was another matter. Over more than one pint of beer, Dathan would privately admit his concerns that he wasn’t making the right decisions or that he was not being proactive enough. He didn’t envy Dathan at all.

  “I got your six. Is Sheriff Sheehan alright with me being gone so long?” His superior was an older wolf in their pack and hadn’t been a big fan of Dathan becoming Alpha. He believed his son, Aikin, was a better choice, an opinion his son did not share. When Dathan opened it up to challenges, Aikin did not put himself in the running. His father was not pleased in the slightest.

  “He’s grumbling, but Nakajima set him straight. He won’t admit it, but he’s afraid of that she-wolf.”

  “Who isn’t? I’m scared of her,” Donovan groused as his brother chuckled.

  “Me, too. Hey, I’m getting another call, and I need to take it. Talk to you tomorrow, Donnie.”

  “Bye, bro.” The call ended, and the loneliness washed over him again. This was an interesting turn of events. His brother wanted him to get closer to Oliver. Well, if I must. He laughed softly to himself. The things I have to endure for my Alpha! Yawning hard, he set his phone down and crawled into the bed. Curling into a ball, he snuffled and let sleep take him.

  ***

  Oliver’s body shook, and he barely pulled his prick free of his shorts before he came. His cock exploded, shooting streams of pearlescent cum high into the air. Waves of pleasure rolled over him, and he cried out as his body shuddered. Oliver ducked his head and licked parched lips. His bond with Donovan was already so strong that he sensed--or more to point, shared--the wolf’s orgasm. Arc after arc pulsed from the slit of his prick, and all Oliver could do was watch. Alarmed and aroused all at once, he didn’t know what else to do but enjoy the shared feelings. Of course he was alarmed! I just came from my bondmate’s climax! I wasn’t even touching myself! It was also as arousing as hell. I came from the comingling of our minds. I came with him!

  Oliver gasped as the last few drops pulsed from his super sensitive cock. It was on the down slide, and the familiar lassitude of post coitus washed over him. If this is what it’s like to mentally share his coming, the real thing might kill me!

  Oliver searched his memory for the conv
ersation he had with William about his bond with Rush. William implied that sex with Rush was overwhelming at times. Oliver wondered if it was his increased power level or the fact that Donovan was a member of the Supernature that had magnified their connection, new as it was. Thank goodness he hadn’t gone back to the house right away. He had pushed up from the bench he was sitting on, all set to go back in, when the first erotic sensation flashed across his mind. It took him a second to realize that he was experiencing Donovan’s climax, and it was fucking incredible.

  Oliver shuffled, shorts around his ankles, back to the marble bench and sat back down. Grinning, he gazed down at his cock. A fat drop of cum perched at the head of his dick. Without thinking, he scooped up the drop and sucked it off his finger. Tangy with a salty edge, he savored the flavor for a moment. Tasting his cum had never occurred to him. It wasn’t his thing. So why was it so erotic to do it now? Rolling his smooth balls in his hand, Oliver sighed. Playing with his nuts relaxed him, and he closed his eyes. The image of Donovan flashed behind his eyes. Oliver wanted more than a kiss. That and they just had mind sex, albeit he doubted Donovan had noticed the linking of their minds.

  Pulling up his shorts, Oliver tucked his softening cock down his right shorts leg. He slipped on his damp tank top and twirled a circle around his feet with his fingers. Wind whipped out of nowhere and encircled him. It started out as a gentle breeze but escalated to a howling whirlwind around Oliver, lasting barely a minute. He made a cutting motion with his hand, stopping the wind abruptly. Smiling down, he was pleased to see his damp tank was bone dry. His long hair had dried, too, and was a mass of wild waves and curls. Snagging a rubber band from his pocket, Oliver tucked his hair up into a samurai ponytail. It had taken him some time to control his aerokinesis. He had loathed it in the beginning, but now he loved it and used it whenever he could. Being a natural sweater, he used the power to dry himself off. Plus, it was so easy to dry his long hair.

  Damn, I don’t remember how I got to the temple. Frowning, he wished there was a way to get out of the Maze without floating out with his telekinesis. Mulling it over, he saw movement at his feet and spied a line of newly bloomed dandelions leading to the entrance to the temple. The row disappeared around the hedge. Curious, he followed the trail of cheery yellow blooms. He was nearly out of the Maze when it hit him. Oliver had wanted to get out of the Maze, and another power had come forth to help him. Looking back, he wished for more dandelions and grinned as a patch of them suddenly sprouted at his feet. He had the power over plants!

  Cha-ching! Power number seven on board! I’ve got to tell Aunt Mags! He galloped up the stone steps to the house and race to the Mirror room. So focused on talking to his aunt, Oliver didn’t notice that all the plants he passed in the house sprouted, grew, bloomed, and flourished in his wake.

  Chapter 7

  “What do you mean, he quit?” William barked, and Oliver looked up from his book. The two of them were in the library when Elizabeth came in and announced that their head chef, Bennett Mimieux, was not coming back from vacation. Over six weeks ago, Bennett had had an emergency call from his family in France and had hurriedly left. In the interim, another a temporary chef, Tjeed van Waijenburg, had been hired to help Sal out in the kitchen.

  Oliver recognized William’s mood. His brother was pissed. Bennett was a bit of a diva in Oliver’s opinion, but he was a whiz in the kitchen.

  “Chef Mimieux sends his regrets, but he will not be returning to Oswald House. He asked that his personal effects be shipped to his family home in Marseilles,” Elizabeth reported.

  Oliver quietly watched Elizabeth, and he frowned. Normally relaxed, she looked… nervous. No, rattled was more like it. He knew she didn’t care for Bennett, but they never were anything but professional around each other.

  “And his reason for leaving so abruptly?” William demanded. Oliver winced. His brother had his Captain Asshole tone. He hid a smirk as Elizabeth arched a brow at his brother.

  “He sent his apologies and tendered his resignation.”

  “Sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” William twirled the pen in his fingers. He had been working on the family books when Elizabeth had come into the library. Oliver shifted in his chair.

  “What’s done is done, bro. He’s gone. Are we going to keep Tjeed?”

  William threw up his hands. “I guess so. I’ll offer him the permanent position today.”

  “He’s a good cook.”

  “He is. It’s how Bennett left that doesn’t sit well with me. He won’t get a good reference from me.” William tossed down his pen angrily.

  “If you like, Mr. William, I’ll write a basic reference. He did work for us for over two years.” While her words were clipped and efficient, her tone bothered Oliver. William was too upset to notice the odd tone in Elizabeth’s voice. Oliver had, however, and his curiosity was piqued.

  “Fine, fine. Do whatever you want. I’ll speak to Tjeed.” William stopped. “I’m sorry. I should ask you and Mohammed what you think of van Waijenburg.”

  Elizabeth visibly relaxed and a warm smile split her face. “Oh, he is wonderful, Mr. William. The staff likes him, and he is fitting in very nicely. He and Sal are thick as thieves.”

  Oliver smiled back. “Excellent!”

  “Do you think he’ll take the job, Elizabeth?” William asked, and she shifted her weight.

  “I do. He is looking for a home. I think he’ll take the offer.”

  “Good. Send him to me now. Why wait?”

  “As you wish, Mr. William. I’ll fetch him.” Elizabeth gave them a curt nod and exited the library in a swish of skirts.

  William leaned back in his chair, frowning.

  “What’s on your mind, bro?” Oliver questioned as he closed his book.

  “I can’t put my finger on it, Ollie, but this whole thing doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “Me either.” Oliver set his book on the side table and stood and stretched. “Doesn’t matter, though. People come and go. I do like Tjeed.”

  “Me, too,” William sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The door creaked open, and Tjeed poked his head in.

  “You wish to speak to me, Mr. Blackthorne?”

  “Yes, come in, Tjeed.”

  Oliver strolled out of the room and made a beeline to the kitchen. His stomach was growling, and he was sure there was some of that awesome roast beef Tjeed had made in the fridge. The scurrying of feet drew his gaze upward, and he swore he saw Ming and Karina dashing out of his sight. Shaking his head, he was about to call them down when his stomach growled louder. Food first, then Ming and Karina.

  ***

  The earth fell in large chunks under the rooting claws. The stench of sweat and feces made the air heavy and fetid. They were getting close. The creature smiled. Soon, soon they would be within striking distance. It cackled and leisurely chewed some more flesh from the arm it had ripped from one of the ghouls.

  ***

  Donovan sniffed the air, tracking his prey. So many scents wafted across his nose. He scented sex, more like Rush and William having sex. He smiled. Those two argued and screwed more than any couple he had ever met. He like Rush. The man was unabashedly devoted to his mate, and when around William, Rush’s eyes never left the man for more than a moment. He touched William whenever he could.

  Donovan wondered if it would be like that if he mated Oliver. Granted, the smell of Oliver Blackthorne made his pants go “hello,” and his nose told him Oliver felt the same. Walking past the conservatory, he made his way through the entry way and up the staircase. He didn’t have to look long, as Oliver was standing at the top of the stairs. Was he looking for him?

  “We need to talk.”

  Donovan stopped his ascent. Oliver’s arms were folded over his chest and he seemed nervous.

  “About what, Oliver?”

  “About us.” He gestured for him to follow. Donovan made the landing and fell into step behind him. Licking his lips, he observ
ed the up and down jiggle of Oliver’s shorts-clad ass. It was high and tight and needed a good tonguing. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought of tasting the succulent flesh.

  He thought Oliver was taking him to his bedroom. Instead, he led him down a smaller hall between two of the bedrooms. Opening the door to a room, Oliver walked in, and Donovan entered behind him, closing the dark oak door behind him. The room was a small parlor. Several chairs and a large couch sat in front of a large fireplace. Oliver pointed to a chair, and Donovan sat down. Oliver looked over at the door and the lock tumbled closed. Hmmm…it would appear Mr. Blackthorne didn’t want to be disturbed. Oliver plopped down in his chair and looked at him intently.

  Seconds passed, and Donovan waited for Oliver to speak.

  “I want to apologize for being such a dick. A high-handed, overbearing dick. It’s an Oswald trait.”

  “You don’t say.”

  Oliver ignored the comment. “Anyhow, I wanted to talk to you, get to know you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re my bondmate. We should know something about each other before we bond.”

  “So you decided we’re going to bond? How magnanimous of you.” The sarcasm dripped from his voice, and he heard Oliver sigh wearily.

  “Can we start again? I have a proposition for you. Just hear me out.”

  “I’m listening.” Curiosity got the better of him, and he sat back, intrigued.

  “First off, I think we should bond. Everyone in the Supernature knows that bonding amplifies the bondmate’s abilities. I’d gain more powers, and your shifting would increase exponentially. Second, there is the physical attraction.” He rolled his eyes at Donovan’s chuff. “I’m no fool. My…my attraction to you is interfering with my preparations for the Ascension Trials. By bonding with you, I’d be more centered. Third, and hear me out, I say we bond but maintain our separate lives.”

  “Come again?”

  “You keep your life in Cold Creek, and I keep mine here. I was going to offer the services of my cousin, Mills, to teleport us back and forth, so that we can be together a few times a week. I know your wolf won’t like it, but I think it’s a good plan. My only question is how is your brother going to feel about us bonding? He has no love of solids, especially witches. Would he sanction our bonding?” Oliver’s anxiety wafted to his nose, and Donovan frowned.