Change of Heart: An MM Shifter Short Story: (British University Shifters)

by Walker Rose

  Blake was seated on the edge of his bed, eyes glued to Kellan as Kellan paced. The thrill of the hunt and the anticipation of sex had Kellan riled. The full moon was on its way, and as much as he ached from it, his excitement over Blake masked his discomfort.

  "You're a werewolf,” Kellan said simply. “When you awaken to your other self, your senses sharpen and your appetite changes. During the three nights of the full moon you'll transform. Some wolves enjoy forming packs, others enjoy solitary lives. The wolf doesn't just lie dormant inside of you through your day to day life—when you experience strong emotions, it will manifest. Until you learn to control it, you may face impulses such as the need to hunt… which, of course, you must resist."

  Every few words he stole a glance at his classmate. Stubble lined his jaw, and thick patches of hair grew beneath his arms, but his chest was remarkably bare. A dark, alluring treasure trail led from his navel and disappeared beneath the waistline of his sweatpants. Kellan was eager to discover where it led.

  "There’s no such thing as werewolves," Blake insisted. His hands ran up and down his thighs nervously. The thin fabric gave Kellan an excellent idea of what lay beneath—it seemed like the rumors were true.

  "If you want to call my bluff, you won't have to wait long. The first night of the full moon is tonight. Tell me…" It was time to take a calculated risk. "… did your bones start to ache today? Are your gums sore?"

  A moment of silence marked Blake's shock. His lips turned downward, and he looked away. Kellan had hit his mark.

  "You woke up feeling like that because your body is preparing itself for the full moon.” Kellan held back his grin. “Tonight, really, not too much longer from now, you'll transform. If I hadn't found you, you'd transform on campus and would have killed every living creature you'd come across. Instead, you're going to come hunting with me, and we won't kill anyone."

  Blake dropped his gaze, staring at his knees. If he could become a trustworthy figure in Blake's eyes, if he could convince him that without intervention, he'd have been a monster, the foundation would be set. From there, it would only be another little push until they were mated. Even if Blake was straight, it wouldn't matter. Kellan knew that he wouldn’t be for long.

  Something in the back of his mind screamed that this was wrong, but he muted the voice and moved on. The plan would not fail—he'd fantasized about this moment for too long to back down.

  "I don't know..."

  "What do you have to lose? Come out with me for the next few hours. If I'm full of shit, then you can come back. If I'm not, you'll be glad that you came with me. The hunt leaves you with a feeling like no other… it'll be nice to share it with someone."

  It was time to take the lead. Kellan moved towards the door, slipping his shoes back on. As he'd hoped, Blake rose from the bed and padded across the room to stand nearby. A semester of fantasies was ending in the most unexpected, but welcomed, way. He'd have the dark haired, wild lover he'd lusted after before the week was through.

  Chapter Three

  They stopped briefly to pick up clothes for Blake before they crossed the campus once more, this time in the direction of Kellan’s preferred hunting grounds. MacRae university was tucked against the edge of a forest, located about thirty minutes from the next big city. The town was small enough that the local fauna hadn’t been greatly disrupted. Often, there was good hunting to be had.

  Blake followed at a distance, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. The newly woken wolf had no idea what he was in for, and Kellan was eager to show him exactly what it was he’d been missing. The next three days would reshape the rest of Blake’s life, and Kellan was determined to be an integral part of his new future.

  Once a sufficient distant from the school had been reached, Kellan unzipped his coat and shrugged it from his shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” Blake watched with wary eyes.

  Without missing a beat, Kellan stripped his shirt off and tucked it into the arm of his shed coat. “If you want to have clothes to change into later, you’ve got to strip. When the wolf tears itself out from inside of you, it’ll shred whatever you’re wearing. You don’t want to walk back to your place naked, do you?”

  Blake’s expression turned from wary to incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

  The full moon was coming. Twilight was settling between the trees, the crispness of the night romancing the bitter frost of winter. Kellan couldn’t feel it. The pain was growing, his body heating as the wolf tested the boundaries of his mind, waiting for them to thin.

  “Very serious,” Kellan said. “If you don’t strip quickly, it will be too late. Can’t you feel it growing? The pain?”

  Each of his senses had sharpened that much more. In the distance he heard the skittering of squirrels in the trees. Scents filled his nostrils, old and new, more nuanced than they’d been just hours before. They were the precursors to the hunt, the skills that would ensure that they would feast.

  Pants followed. Shoes thudded as they sank into the snow, discarded. Kellan tucked his clothing into his coat and snagged the hood on a low hanging branch.

  He turned to face Blake, looking him over. “Well?”

  There was no verbal reply, but Kellan couldn’t help but notice that Blake was looking down his body. Kellan challenged his gaze, not afraid to acknowledge Blake’s stare, but Blake looked away. He shrugged his coat from his shoulders and reluctantly removed his clothing. With bated breath, Kellan watched as his fly parted. Even flaccid, the outline of Blake’s cock was breathtaking.

  Blake’s boxers dropped. He stepped out of his shoes. It was difficult not to stare. Kellan had expected some degree of imperfection—a default or flaw that would sully the fantasy he’d created over the months—but there was none. The trail of hair leading down from Blake’s navel led to a maintained patch of pubic hair surrounding the most gorgeous cock he’d ever seen. Large, thick without being exaggerated, and cut, it fit Blake’s frame beautifully even when soft. Blake’s thighs were powerful, well-muscled, and fit for the beast inside of him.

  But the look on Blake’s face was anything but powerful. There was fear in his eyes and hesitation on his lips. Kellan had spent so much time ogling him that he hadn’t offered him any comfort through one of the most trying times of his life.

  Say something. Anything.

  But there were no words to be had. As soon as Kellan parted his lips, the first pangs of agony struck. Words turned into groans. His fangs began to push through, teeth knocked from his gums as his jaws distorted. Blake gasped, but seconds later, he was struck by the same pain. Shifting was never easy, never enjoyable, but waking up the next morning high from the hunt made up for it.

  Their bones stretched with sickening pops and cracks, and their muscles melted and reformed to accommodate a new skeletal structure. The hair Kellan worked so hard to keep moisturized grew coarse and rough, spreading down from his nape to plunge down his back and consume him. It was silver in color, denoting his elevated rank. The nails of each hand and foot were pushed from their beds, dangerous black claws tearing through his skin in their place. Soon, the cries and groans ceased. Panted, throaty vocalizations took their place.

  Then, a snarl.

  In the place of the two young men stood two towering, bipedal wolves—one silver, one black. They stared each other down until the black wolf lowered his gaze. Dominance established, the silver wolf turned. It was time to start the hunt.

  The sweet sting of bitter winter air lined their throats. The scents of woodland animals drew their snouts. The feel of snow as it crunched beneath their clawed feet marked the night. Dark blurs—trees—became so common they were ignored as they ran fast and free.

  After such a long while spent hunting alone, a partner. A strong male. Potential mate. They traveled together.

  The silver wolf brought down a buck, tearing its throat out with a powerful shake of its head. The flavor of gore lit his tongue, and he feasted gladly. The othe
r wolf paced, craved, whined, begged. The luxury of eating first was reserved for the alpha. Without a pack, it went to the wolf who was most dominant.

  The black wolf would wait. The silver wolf would eat first.

  The pangs of hunger subsided, and he tossed the rest of the carcass to the new wolf. Waited. Watched.

  Confusion.

  Was this wolf his mate or not? Their scents had not mingled to suggest a partnering had taken place. Why else would he be here? He desired him as a mate.

  The black wolf fed, casting its amber eyes upwards to watch the silver wolf as he filled his stomach. When nothing remained on the carcass but skin and bones, he rose. The silver wolf turned away and resumed the hunt, leading the way through the trees. The darkness had set in, but the night was still young. Still time to feed. Still time to understand.

  Nothing. No deer. No bucks. No boars. The black wolf caught a rabbit, and the creature disappeared in two rapid snaps of his jaw. It was disappointing, but it was enough.

  The silver wolf curled up in the snow. There was no point in wasting energy on a frivolous hunt. To his surprise, the black wolf approach and hesitated. Their eyes met. The black wolf lowered his body, then dared to curl his body around his companion. They would share their warmth on this winter night.

  It was good. It was right.

  The wolves closed their eyes. Morning approached. The first night of the full moon had reached its end, but even after the moon vanished from the morning sky, they didn’t say goodbye.

  Chapter Four

  Kellan opened his eyes. The snow beneath him had melted, leaving a patch of damp, brown leaves. The cold ate at his skin, but his back was surprisingly warm. A contented sigh. For now, the ache of encroaching transformation was pushed aside in the afterglow of the hunt. Neither the cold nor the protestation of his body could sully the moment. Nothing felt as satisfying as this. The trade-off was worth it.

  An arm tightened around him, and Kellan snapped back to reality. He rolled onto his hip and glanced down his body. Blake’s arm was draped over his side. He was still asleep.

  With care, Kellan wormed his way around until they were chest to chest. His fingers traced down Blake’s front as though it were made of tissue paper, savoring the warmth and softness of his skin. How was he so handsome even while asleep? The man he’d objectified in his fantasies was here with him in the flesh—vibrant, handsome, and so much more complex than a simple means of gratification. The feeling was as unsettling as it was welcome. Pure affection. He’d promised himself to stay away, to treat Blake as beneath him, but his soul was having none of it.

  “Mm, hey, wake up,” Kellan said, putting gentle pressure on the chest he’d idolized. He felt weightless in a way he’d never felt before. He’d intended to use this period of bliss to start to mold Blake into the mate he wanted, but now he’d abandoned that idea. Everything felt too perfect to mar with malicious, selfish intent.

  Blake opened his eyes. Blinked. Focused. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. He did not roll over, nor did he remove the arm draped over Kellan. A moment of silence passed between them as the dark haired young man absorbed everything that had happened.

  “Good morning,” Kellan murmured. Blake’s gaze settled on him, but he said nothing. Then his arm tightened, and in the next moment, their lips met. There was nothing more natural. Tenderness grew between them, Blake directing the kiss with adoration rather than lust. Kellan had never imagined an encounter like this, but now that he was caught in the middle of it, he wouldn’t change it for the world. After a time too brief for Kellan’s liking, their lips parted.

  “I’m uh, I’m not gay,” Blake muttered. “It just felt right. What you said… you were telling the truth. I thought I was dying, and you told me I was going to be okay, and you were right. I felt like I owed you.” The words ghosted across Kellan’s lips, their bodies pressed close. They were sincere. Red shaded Kellan’s cheeks and colored the ridges of his ears. As long as he could remember, he’d never been treated with kindness like this. Every conversation was another attempt at manipulation, never sincere. Never so caring.

  “You can’t kiss like that and not mean it,” Kellan whispered back. “You can’t fake passion like that. If you said it felt right, that’s because it is.” Yesterday, he’d wanted so badly to twist Blake to his will and make him submit, but all of his spiteful intent had dissipated. It was like shedding a weight he’d never known he carried.

  “I’m not gay,” Blake insisted. Still, they did not part. Neither of them wanted to.

  “What does it matter whose lips you kiss?” Kellan asked. Their lips drew closer, this time of his own will, until they were brushing. “Lips are lips. If you want to kiss them, you should kiss them.”

  Blake was hardening—Kellan felt him against his stomach. The heat between their bodies built. The air was thick with mutual desire, mellowed with the innocence of genuine attraction. The only thing he wanted to do was taste those lips again—to know that Blake wanted him as much as he wanted Blake. This was so different from what he’d imagined—so much lighter, and so much more sincere.

  Blake trembled. The brushing of their lips grew into shy kisses placed askew. Blake’s touch was shy, but Kellan welcomed it regardless—especially when each parting of their lips saw Blake grow a little bolder. Kellan’s eyes had closed, hand pressed to his partner’s chest. The kisses were slow and passionate, much more meaningful than anything he’d shared with past partners. As greedy as he was for more, he did not want to lose a sensation as rare as this.

  A slight pressure brought Kellan’s lips to part, and when they did, Blake licked into his mouth. A small, needy moan broke from his throat. Kellan’s fingers curled, his hands resting on Blake’s chest. As Blake was becoming erect, so too was Kellan. Their cocks met, smooth skin against smooth skin. The kiss broke.

  “I want you,” Blake muttered. “I want you more than any girl I’ve been with.” The words weren’t bogged down with raw sexual need, but spoken in earnest. Want didn’t mean sex. Kellan was experience enough with the latter to know that Blake meant something different.

  It was his turn to feel lost and unprepared.

  The territory they circled was foreign and frightening. To mask his anxiety, he traced his hand down Blake’s chest to his hip, and then to his groin. He brushed his fingertips across Blake’s shaft, and a gentle moan escaped Blake’s lips.

  “Kellan... yes,” he breathed. His fingers crept onward until his palm covered Blake’s shaft. He gripped both of their cocks in one hand, then moved in slow, tantalizing pumps. Pressed together, pleasured at the same time, they succumbed to their growing need in tandem. The arm draped over Kellan’s side moved, hand coming up to capture him by the chin. Blake held his face still, and they kissed deeply.

  Kellan swept his fingers over the heads of their cocks, collecting the beads of precum that had gathered there. Without a second thought, he worked it down their shafts. The kiss reignited, causing Kellan to hum into Blake’s mouth in pleasure. Now that Blake was becoming more sure of his attraction, he was pushing for more, and Kellan had no intention of stopping him.

  With their kiss secure, Blake’s hand abandoned Kellan’s chin to cradle the back of his head. The softness had fled, but even through their lust, Kellan could sense the connection they shared. It was the connection that frightened him, he realized—Blake was turning into more than just a toy, and that meant vulnerability. Kellan didn’t want to be hurt.

  But he didn’t want to give up on Blake, either.

  In the aftermath of the hunt, they lost themselves to pleasure. Kellan’s hand moved with skill, guiding his partner towards the orgasm he deserved. Blake moaned through their kisses, body trembling as his release approached. Kellan had heard stories about wolves of lower ranks all his life—that they were wild, unpredictable, and dangerous—but he’d never heard that they could be gentle, and that their emotions were just as straightforward as their instincts. The basic natur
e which made them so fearsome was the same that made them so real. Blake was quick to trust and quick to devote, and he did so with absolute certainty. It was an unexpected hitch in Kellan’s largely-dismantled plan. He’d thought he’d make a toy out of his mate—a lover had never been part of the equation.

  Their lips parted.

  “I’m gonna...” Blake uttered, trailing off. His eyes were only partially open, their stunning blues soul-crushing. Kellan had opened his eyes just in time to see them. Fear, longing, and compassion lit them from behind as Blake teetered on the edge of his climax.

  For perhaps the first time in his life, Kellan felt guilt over his desired course of action.

  “Then cum,” he encouraged. Blake’s cock pulsed—he could feel it against his shaft—then, with a groan, he released. Spurts of milky cum shot onto the ground between them. Kellan’s hand slowed, then drew away—he was too ashamed to bring himself to orgasm. The fantasies of controlling a mate had been fun in theory, but executing them had proved anything but. Maybe his mother was right—he needed a boring, pretentious mate from a respectable bloodline.

  Without a word he sat up and scented the winter air. The smell of their sex pervaded it, making it hard to detect the hunting path they’d followed the night before. This smell—Blake’s unabashed masculinity mixed with his own lightly scented soaps—was what he’d salivated over for months. Now it only made him ache. Kellan rose and took his first few steps into the snow.

  “What are you doing?” Blake asked uncertainly from their patch of forest.

  “I’m going to find our clothes—there’s class today. It’s probably about six already, and by the time we get back there will scarcely be time to get to our first class.” He didn’t have the heart to look back. Stepping away from the fantasy was painful, and admitting that he’d done wrong by trying to act on it only added to that pain.

  Blake scrambled to his feet and caught up. He placed a firm hand on the small of Kellan’s back, causing him to lift his gaze. With that small gesture, Blake stopped him in his tracks.