by Sky Winters
And what’s more, Tessa, learned from Ian after sharing a bottle of wine one night when Atticus was outperforming an emergency electrician call, that Atticus was shirking his responsibility to the pack. As the Alpha, he needed to take a bride first, choosing the best woman available to pass on the line of the tribe. And once he chose, the rest of the tribe, brothers first, could select wives of their own. But Atticus found that he had grown accustomed to the single life. Tessa learned that it was fast approaching the point when the brothers were growing intolerably frustrated with his inability to settle.
But despite all of this, the problems with Lucas and the meth gang were getting to the point where she and Atticus could no longer ignore them. The incident at Hannigan’s was only the beginning. From the compound, the pack received news daily that the meth gang had robbed one store or another, or attacked a police officer, or raided a nearby property. The gang seemed to be based in the house in the woods where Tessa found Lucas that night almost two weeks ago.
Thoughts of Lucas troubled her as well. Though she hadn’t been there when the house was ransacked, the message was loud and clear: Lucas wasn’t to stand by and let Tessa walk out on him. She knew that the only reason she hadn’t seen him was because she’d been secreted away at the compound, and she couldn’t stay there forever…as much as she might want to.
But for now, she was content to enjoy the day with Atticus. Looking over at him, her eyes fell onto his arms as he supported himself with them, observing how the muscles flexed and tensed; she couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of his body.
And as if reading her mind, Atticus moved closer to her, slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in. Tessa leaned her head against him, taking in the strange, animal smell that hung on his body after a long run through the woods.
“I’ve been up here for as long as I can remember, but this view never stops being amazing,” he said, looking out over the vista beyond.
“It’s incredible,” said Tessa.
Then, taking her chin into the crook of his finger, he pressed his lips to hers. Tessa let herself fall quickly and deeply into his kiss, the soft breeze of the wind rising up the gentle slope of the mountain as soft and sweet on her skin as Atticus’s touch. She turned herself to face him, her eyes searching down at his hard, muscular body, watching his cock grow harder by the second. Reaching down, she wrapped her hand around his prick, feeling a shudder of pleasure run through her body at the joy of holding him so intimately.
“Cutting right to the chase, huh?” said Atticus through their kiss, a sly smile on his sensual lips.
“Why wait?” asked Tessa.
She began stroking him, softly at first, letting her fingertips drag against his skin. And as she touched him, Tessa felt Atticus’s own hand slide down her body until it reached the hem of her dress. Atticus slipped his hand under it, placing his fingertips on Tessa’s sex through her silk panties.
Tessa let out a gasp as he touched her, his hand slipping under the fabric and grazing her, the feeling of his skin on her lighting up her body with pleasure. Then, as Tessa continued to stroke him, he slid a finger inside of her, Tessa’s pussy already slick with anticipation. They stimulated each other for a time, Tessa jerking Atticus’s cock at an increasing pace, and Atticus working her sex with his fingers, fingering her with expert precision.
Then, a smirk crossed Atticus’s face. He removed his fingers from Tessa, the pleasure running through her body replaced with a wave of disappointment. But that soon faded when Atticus lunged over, grabbed Tessa by the hips, and moved her onto her hands and knees, manhandling her in a way that aroused her for reasons that she couldn’t quite explain. Atticus was strong, very strong, and Tessa loved nothing more than when he tossed her around during lovemaking, feeling dominated by him in just the right way.
Tessa looked out onto the rolling mountains as Atticus flipped her dress up, exposing her ass to him. He slapped one cheek, squeezing a handful of Tessa’s ripe flesh, the anticipation of him being inside of her building by the moment. Then he moved her panties to the side, exposing her pussy to him. Tessa smiled as she awaited him being deep, deep inside of her.
She didn’t have to wait long. One hand on the supple curve of her hips, the other on his cock, Atticus slide into her easily. Once his cock was fully sheathed in her, he moved his other hand to her hips, holding her in place as he began to fuck her. He pounded her hard, her dark hair whipping back and forth at the rhythm of his thrusts, the pleasure filling her body within seconds.
Just like every other time she and Atticus made love, Tessa felt orgasm quickly approach; sometimes she wondered if his cock had been made specifically for her body. A silly idea, but it was the only way she could explain how perfectly he felt buried into her.
Atticus fucked her hard, his hips slapping against her ass, the striking of his hand against the flesh of her cheeks crackling through her body like a lightning bolt.
Soon after, Tessa’s body exploded with orgasm. Her arms went limp as the pleasure ran through her, and she pressed her face against the grass under her, wrapping her arms around her head as she tried to contend with the sensual pleasure that hit her. It was such intensity that she felt her body might be ripped to pieces. She let out long, passionate moans as she came, taking advantage of their secluded position, not feeling the need to keep quiet in the slightest.
Atticus came soon after, grunting as she fucked her, spraying his cum deep into her pussy, filling her with himself in every imaginable way, Tessa taking sensual pleasure from him draining himself into her.
Atticus slowed down and with one final slap of Tessa’s ass, finished, sliding out of her. He moved back to her side as she sat down, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close for one more kiss.
“I think we need to be getting back,” said Atticus, noting that the sun was inching closer and closer to the horizon, the sky slowly shifting from blue to a smoky lavender mixed with a creamy orange.
“As much as I think I could stay up here forever, you’re probably right,” said Tessa.
Atticus stood, and after a moment of focus, shifted into his bear form. Tessa climbed onto his back, savoring the feeling of safety and warmth that she always experienced when holding him in this way. His shifting was strange, easily the strangest thing that Tessa had ever seen, but as she began to understand it as just another trait of the man who she was falling for more and more by the day, she found herself being less startled by it each time he shifted.
Atticus started off down the woods, stomping back to the compound. Tessa, as always, closed her eyes and hung on tight, letting wind whip through her hair.
Soon, they arrived back at the compound and after passing through the gate, Atticus shifted back.
He put on his track pants and t-shirt that he had left behind, and as the two of them made their way across the compound grounds they were struck by a realization: There was no one else there.
“Where is everyone?” asked Tessa, looking around.
“Not sure,” said Atticus. “But they should’ve been back by now. And there should be a few of the pack still here.”
The two of them approached the main house, entering through the basement door and traveling up to the main floor. And as Tessa ascended the stairs, a strange, medical scent struck her.
“You smell that?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Atticus, his face tense. “Stay close.”
They entered the main floor, and to their horror, saw that the kitchen was trashed. Tessa gasped when she saw the scene. Pots and pans were thrown everywhere, glasses were broken, and plates were shattered on the floor. The strange smell grew more intense, and Atticus and Tessa could now hear a commotion coming from the other room.
Atticus and Tessa approached the living room, and as they entered they saw that it was occupied by a dozen or so grungy-looking men and women, all in various stages of meth use, from lighting up to running around the compound, smashing wha
tever they could get their hands on.
And seated on the couch, calm and steely-eyed among them all, was Lucas.
“Long time, no see, Tess,” he said, a sinister smile forming on his lips as the rest of the gang members formed up around him.
“Take a seat,” he said, his eyes cold, and his tone murderous.
CHAPTER 17
Atticus closed his eyes, preparing to shift, his anger nearly boiling over.
“Ah, ah, ah,” said Lucas, still pointing his gun.
Atticus and Tessa felt the touch of cold, sweaty hands upon their arms.
“I know all about your powers, my friend,” said Lucas. “And I want you to make a quick estimate about your odds. There’re about twenty of us, and two of you. Now, you might be able to get a few of us with those big bear claws of yours, but can you do it before we kill her?”
Her pointed the gun at Tessa.
Atticus’s jaw clenched as he stared Lucas down. Realizing that Lucas was right, Atticus stopped his shifting process.
“What is this?” Atticus demanded.
“Why, this is me taking back what’s mine, of course,” said Lucas, flicking his red-lined eyes towards Tessa.
“Fuck you,” said Tessa, spitting her words. “I’m not yours.”
Lucas shrugged, as if considering the point.
“Well, they say ‘might makes right,’ and this is definitely one of those cases where I think that’s true.”
As Lucas spoke, Tessa couldn’t help but notice the drastic change that Lucas had gone through since the time that she saw him last. His face was gaunt, his skin looked sickly, and his eyes were red and bloodshot. It looked to her as if he were on day ten of a non-stop drug binge, a shadow of his former handsome self.
“Where are my men?” demanded Atticus.
“They’re out,” said Lucas. “We created a little distraction to keep them busy; probably won’t be back for a while…if they come back.”
Rage boiled in Atticus. The idea that this man would simply storm into his home, threaten Tessa, put his men in danger- it was something he couldn’t abide. But he knew Lucas was right, making a move wouldn’t work out well for him or Tessa, not with every one of the scuzzy meth-heads armed and with an itchy trigger finger.
“And you might want to take a look at your security,” said Lucas, his voice both anxious and cocky. “Impressive set-up, but nothing a few highly-motivated tweakers couldn’t figure out.”
“If you don’t leave right now, I swear I’ll kill you and every last worthless member of your pathetic gang,” said Atticus, his voice a growl.
“That’s…not what’s going to happen,” said Lucas, rising from his seat and walking around the room with a cocky stride. “Here is what is going to happen. I’m going to take my girl back from you- my wife, I should point out- then I’m going to leave you here with some men of mine. They’re going to, well, work you over until you give up the access codes to the little fortune you Swift boys have stored away. Then they’re going to kill you.”
Atticus didn’t want to hear another word. He burst from the grips of the meth heads who were holding him in place and rushed towards Lucas, ready to shift his hands into claws and carve open his stomach.
But Lucas didn’t seem fazed by this. He simply gestured to the men holding Tessa and gave a quick nod. Atticus heard the cocking of two pistols sound from behind him as he closed the distance across the living room, the sound stopping him in his tracks. Turning, he saw that the two men were holding guns to Tessa, her face red as she wept in fear. As he looked at her, Atticus realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he felt such anger.
“You might get me,” said Lucas. “But you definitely won’t get them before they put a couple of rounds into that pretty thing. I may want my wife back but I want my revenge even more.”
Atticus froze in place, the feeling of impotence driving him to heights of anger that he never thought possible. He watched as Lucas strolled across the debris-strewn floor of the living room and over to Tessa. Once he stood in front of her, he placed his hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears.
“Don’t worry, Tess,” he said, his tone a mockery of sympathy. “I’ll get you away from these…freaks of nature, and back by my side, where you belong. There’s money in meth, a lot of money. I’ll make sure you never want for anything ever again.”
Tessa said nothing. Instead, she whipped her head back and spit in Lucas’s face.
Lucas took in a slow, deep breath, pulled his hand back and struck Tessa across the face.
The cracking sound echoing through the living room, Atticus felt himself boil over with rage. Only the last shreds of self-control that remained allowed him to prevent himself from shifting and carving every last man in the room to pieces.
“You’ll pay for that,” Atticus said, his voice a roar.
“Not likely,” said Lucas.
He slipped the shiny, chrome body of his pistol into the back of his beltloop and turned to address his men.
“I think it’s time to get going, everyone,” he said, his mouth curled into a smile. “But as for my little werebear friend, I’m going to leave a few friends of mine here to keep an eye on you. And just so you know, their guns are loaded with silver-tipped bullets, a material that I’ve heard your kind isn’t exactly fond of. Anyway, these men are going to make sure that you transfer all of the money in your family accounts to ours.”
“And why the hell would I do that?” demanded Atticus.
“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill Tessa.”
Atticus said nothing, instead breathing heavily through his nostrils, his animal form only barely kept at bay.
“And the rest of my crew should be returning with what remains of your pack before too long. They’ll stick around to make sure the transfer goes off. Then, once you’ve done it, they’ll kill you.”
“Then why would I help you?”
“You and the pack die either way,’ said Lucas. “You’re all simply too much of a threat to my little enterprise. But if you transfer the money, I can guarantee you that Tessa will be safe. Well taken care of, in fact.”
He cast another lecherous look at Tessa, who seemed to be partially in a state of shock.
“So! You have 48 hours from right…now,” he said, setting the timer on his phone. “Don’t disappoint me.”
With that, Lucas and his crew left, leaving a few men in the room with guns trained on Atticus. He stood with his shoulders hunched, a defeated feeling gripped his body as he considered the tragedy that had just befallen him.
CHAPTER 18
“Where the hell are they?” asked one of the men, a dirty-looking, wiry man in a denim vest and ripped jeans.
“Keep your fuckin’ pants on,” said the second of the two men, a beady-eyed youth who looked to be no older than 20. “They’re taking down that whole pack, give ‘em at least an hour.”
The third man, a fat-bellied black man with patchy hair, kept his pistol trained on Atticus, who sat wordlessly on the couch.
“I need another hit,” he said. “This is all gettin’ to me.”
“You heard Lucas,” said the man in the denim vest. “No hits until the rest of ‘em get here.”
“How would Lucas even know?” asked the beady-eyed man as he paced frantically around the room. “You think he’s got cameras or some shit in here?”
“Who knows what he can do?” said Denim Vest. “He took over our whole operation in a month. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was keepin’ some kind of tabs on us.”
Silence fell over the men as they all considered their situation. Atticus was quiet, instead keeping in mind that Lucas said nothing about keeping these three lowlifes alive. Though he felt confident about his situation, he worried about the rest of the pack. Lucas mentioned that something happened to them, and they should’ve been back by now. Atticus cast an eye towards the tree line beyond the compound, hoping for some sign that the rest of the pack was near. But the trees were
still aside from the evening breeze, darkness descending over the compound as the last traces of sun twinkled beneath the forest.
“Besides, I’m gonna start to lose my focus here if I don’t get a hit,” said Patchy Hair.
“What the hell are you two talking about?” demanded Denim Vest.
Atticus surmised that Denim Vest was the one in charge, but from the looks of things, he didn’t seem to be keeping a very good handle on the situation. He’d watched these meth heads from afar for long enough to know that they could only talk themselves out of using for so long before they gave in.
“Nah, nah,” said Beady Eyes. “I mean, things are fine now, but if I don’t get a hit, I’m gonna start thinking more about crystal than I am about watching the freak, you know?”
He pointed to Atticus with his pistol, who winced in response. He also been around these types long enough to know that accidental shootings among them were surprisingly common.
“Yeah, yeah, he’s right,” said Patchy Hair. “Plus, you know how the shit works- we’ll be way more focused once we do it, you know? And that’ll make our job even easier, and we’ll do it better.”
“I don’t know,” said Denim Vest, scratching the back of his head with his pistol. “We use and Lucas will have our asses. You saw what he did to that kid who took a hit on guard duty last week.”
“Yeah,” said Beady Eyes. “But that was ‘cuz that kid let some junkie slip past the perimeter. Lucas wouldn’t have given a shit if he would’ve done his fuckin’ job.”
Denim Vest scrunched his ugly, pock-marked face and Atticus could tell that he was marshalling his limited intellect to ponder the situation.
“Come on,” said Patchy Hair. “Just a hit to keep us steady and then we’ll finish the job. Besides, we’re here ‘till he gives up the money- that could be the whole 48 hours. You want to wait that long?”