Bind Me in Steel

by Beast

  Wren smiled faintly, yet it was nearly alight with so many subtle interplays of emotion, laden in his scent. Joy, desire…love. “Just say you love me, Ero,” he said, and Ero laughed breathlessly.

  “I love you, Wren.”

  Wren’s smile strengthened. “Don’t make me say it back.”

  “Why not?”

  “I took a silver arrow for you. I don’t think you need to hear it.”

  Ero growled in the back of his throat. “I need to hear it.”

  Those green eyes flicked over him, so strange, so bright, full of so many unspoken dreams and possibilities that Ero would give anything to make real. For so long he had seen his future as nothing but an endless march of days without any purpose other than to survive…

  …but having Wren in his life for just these few short days, electrifying and giving him meaning, said that there was nothing to surviving if it wasn’t about living.

  He hadn’t lived, since the death of his pack. He’d simply been a wandering corpse, no different from the howling dead.

  But Wren brought him back to life as he breathed “I love you, Ero Wake,” and reached up with one slender arm to tug him down, toward soft rosebud lips that Ero had yet to taste.

  He rectified that now, as he pressed his mouth to Wren’s and kissed him—soft at first, just feeling his heat and the slickness and sweetness of his lips, the way they parted for Ero on the most deliciously inviting sigh. Then deeper, as those luscious lips invited him in, let him taste, let him explore until he knew every breathless crevice of Wren’s mouth and only sought deeper, wanting to leave his mark, wanting to claim, and with every stroke of their tongues Wren arched up toward him, his body trembling, his scent thick with the raw musk of desire.

  “Ero,” he breathed, slick lips moving almost lewdly against Ero’s mouth. “Ero, please…”

  The wet-hot scent in the air, the pressure of Wren’s cock against the blankets, left no secret as to what he begged for, and the slightest spark of his desire ignited Ero’s until his cock throbbed to life, craving, desperate to seal this, to make this real and true, to make Wren as his mate. But with a groan, Ero pulled back, looking down at his pale little omega and brushing the wild tangle of his hair back, the inky river sheeting over the bed.

  “…Wren. Love, you’re too weak.”

  “I’m not.” A soft hand curled against his cheek, and Wren pushed himself up, the blankets sheeting down over his naked body, the hole in his shoulder just a soft pucker of healed skin. He stroked his fingers into Ero’s beard, then leaned closer and brushed his mouth to Ero’s in a sweetly intoxicating, begging little kiss. “I need you. Please,” he whispered, as the blankets slid aside to bare naked thighs, pink folds, glistening flesh that made Ero’s mouth water. “Remind me that I’m here. Remind me I’m alive.” Another kiss, trailing fingertips drifting down onto his throat, over Ero’s throbbing pulse. “Remind me I have you.”

  Even when his common sense cried no, Ero’s wolf howled yes, leashed and bound and mated to the beautiful creature begging for his touch. With a rough growl he bore Wren back to the bed, sinking that lovely, pale body down beneath him, pinning him, capturing his wrists. Wren arched for him, gasped for him, moaned for him, begged for him as Ero tasted every inch of his body, licking the sweat from his skin and following every contour, every dip, every hollow until he was drunk on Wren’s flavor, his scent, his cries. Lower, drawn by that enticingly erotic aroma, until he could take Wren’s pink and straining cock into his mouth, licking the precum away, letting it roll salty on his tongue only to counter it with sweet as he licked his way along the fluttering length of glistening soft folds. Wren thrashed, tossing his head back, breathing shallowly, almost fighting him as Ero licked him again and again and again, sating himself, pushing Wren until his scent screamed he was going to break…

  Only to pull back, flowing up his body to capture his mouth again, kissing him deeply and giving him his own taste, mingling it wetly between their mouths as Ero spread Wren’s legs. His little omega quivered for him, so open and ready, as Ero shed his trousers, baring his cock, sliding it along wet flesh and smearing his own dripping pre-come to rub his scent possessively into Wren’s skin. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. Couldn’t hold back.

  And he drank Wren’s throaty, gasping scream of pleasure from his lips as he pressed his cock-head to dripping folds and thrust inside, claiming his mate fully as he drove himself to the hilt.

  Molten tight wetness enveloped him as he let himself go wild, convulsing flesh drawing him deep; Wren clung to him with gripping thighs as Ero bit his mouth with hungry teeth, rocked his hips, poured his strength into claiming his mate. Deeper, deeper, never deep enough, searching out the most sacred depths of Wren’s body and making them his as he demanded more and more, gave as much as he took. Wren was breathtaking beneath him—flushed, surrendering with such wholehearted abandon, throwing his head back to bare that vulnerable throat.

  And as Ero felt it building up inside him, as he hovered on that trembling thread, ready to snap…

  He bit down on Wren’s throat, marking him, claiming him, sinking his teeth deep until he tasted the hot salt of mating blood.

  And as Wren’s orgasm exploded around him, crushing him tight, that lovely voice rising to the rafters, Ero lost himself completely in the torrent of pulsing, throbbing, ripping need that tore his mind and body apart, reshaped him, made him someone new.

  Someone worthy of loving Wren, and of being his mate.

  EPILOGUE

  It was getting harder and harder for Wren to rise with the moon.

  Mainly because it was getting harder and harder to wake up at all, with each night that passed—as his belly grew heavier and heavier, and the pups curled up inside his body took most of Wren’s strength to grow.

  Ero was always with him, caring for him, hunting for him, making the day-long trip into Meridian for anything Wren might need—from more blankets to powders and herbs from the apothecary when Wren was too tired, his back too sore, to venture out from their cozy little den to apply his newly acquired knowledge of herbalism to gather things for himself, or tend to the little garden he’d started as soon as winter had let go of the land. But he was mostly incapacitated, now; with twins in the womb he’d almost doubled his weight, and even with a wolf’s strength, lifting himself wasn’t easy.

  Most days, it was easier to just…stay in bed.

  Stay in bed, and sleep—though at least he had his books to keep him company, and with every trip in to Meridian, Ero brought him back more.

  Their den had been carved out of the base of a massive oak tree, dug half into the earth, half into the wood, a cozy single-room chamber with underground pipes running from the nearby stream to give them running water for drinking and bathing; in the winter the little chamber was close and warm, heated by a little potbelly stove whose stovepipe ran out through a hole where a knot had been knocked out of the wood, while in summer the packed earth kept them cool. Wren’s herbs dangled from the ceiling on strings of herbs, crisscrossing over and over again and left to dry, while the various things Ero was always working on—from the wood slats of a half-finished crib to a stack of furs waiting to be cured and sewn together into warm baby clothing—scattered in his little working area to one side of the hearth. And the walls…

  Shelves had been carved all around the circular wall, and all of those shelves were nearly overflowing with books.

  Once Wren had learned to read…he hadn’t been able to get enough. Books on the world that had been; books on the world that was now. Books that made him laugh; books that made him dream; books that taught him things, like the book that had told him it was possible to live safely under a tree. A boy in the book had done just that, and when he’d shown Ero, at first Ero had been skeptical.

  But once they’d found the perfect place, close enough that the gulf shores were just a half-hour’s walk away but far enough that they could easily find fresh water, Ero had realized how saf
e and easily defensible it would be.

  So together, they’d dug out their home, while Wren learned day by day how to do more and more things for himself, soaking up everything Ero and those pages taught him.

  And Wren was happy.

  Even more so as he ran his palm over the heavy, taut swell of his belly, and snuggled deeper into the blankets and furs on their bed, Ero’s arm heavy and warm over him. The babies would be an autumn birth; he could smell both them and the change of the seasons coming soon. Not surprising, when during the idle winter months he and Ero had hardly let each other out of bed; he’d practically gone into heat locked in such a small space with the smell of his mate surrounding him, while Ero had seemed constantly in rut, hardly even letting Wren dress before he was on his back and stripping him naked and spreading his legs.

  This winter would definitely be different, Wren thought with a smile to himself. With not one, but two babies underfoot?

  He had a feeling Ero would end up frustrated more often than not.

  But autumn and winter were a good time for babies, as long as there was enough food, water, warmth, shelter. When summer was for hunting, for farming, for building, for growing, it was hard to focus on raising children through those delicate early months. With babies born during the cold, they would have all the time in the world while mewed away in their den and watching the snow fall.

  And Wren swore, he swore…

  He would raise his pups to know the world, rather than hiding them away the way his pack had sheltered him in complete and utter ignorance.

  And maybe one day he would finally show them the Silk Islands he had never gotten the chance to see, a distant paradise waiting for his children to discover and explore.

  As if they shared his determination, one of the pups kicked against his stomach; he winced at the dull thud of pain. Strong little monsters, both of them, though from their scents one was a boy, one an omega, and he could feel how they moved—the boy curled protectively around his sibling in the womb, already taking on the role of guardian. Laughing softly, he stroked his belly soothingly.

  “Calm, my sweet pups,” he whispered. “Calm.”

  Ero shifted against his back with a drowsy rumble, the warmth and safety that his scent evoked pricking with a touch of curiosity. “Everything okay?”

  “Mm,” Wren said. “The pups are just restless. I think they’ll be coming soon.”

  That sleepy rumble turned into one of approval, possessive and deep, and Ero’s arm tightened around him as he nuzzled into the unbound spill of Wren’s hair. “The first of many, I hope.”

  Wren laughed. “This house isn’t big enough for an entire litter, Ero.”

  “We have eternity. Raise the twins, let them find their way into the world…and start on the next ones.” With an amused sound, Ero nibbled at Wren’s naked shoulder, sharp teeth grazing against his skin and rousing deep shivers that seemed to take hold of his body so easily, now. Pregnancy had roused his hormones to staggering levels, until he was always a hair-trigger away from collapsing into a trembling wreck of need at the slightest touch. And that touch came in the form of a thick beard grazing his sensitive skin, a heavy hand sliding along his ribs, caressing out over his belly, lower. “…could start now.”

  “Ah, god, Ero…” Wren hefted his heavy body over onto his back so he could look up into his mate’s handsome face. Still those same pale, strangely luminous blue eyes…yet they were so different now, so much more open, warmer, rather than being closed off behind that glassy wall of careful neutrality. And they kindled with heat and desire, now, as Ero leaned down to brush his lips across Wren’s.

  Just that touch was enough to spark throughout Wren with gasping heat, flushing from head to toe as his hyper-sensitive body roused, his thighs already aching with the need to spread around that thick, hardened bulk of muscle and take Ero inside himself. He bit his lip, shifting his hips as his inner walls throbbed, craving the sensation of Ero sliding deep, wetness already welling against his skin and his body tingling, nipples tightening and peaking. He reached up and tangled his fingers into Ero’s hair, drawing him down, pressing his mouth to his mate’s in soft, begging little kisses, pleading for that dominating, hungry touch, pleading for Ero to mark his throat with mating bites again and again and again.

  And Ero didn’t disappoint; with a low growl that bordered on warning, he bent over Wren and seized his mouth in a deeply consuming kiss, delving so deep that every thrust of his tongue made Wren’s body arch as if Ero had thrust into his dripping, aching folds, the intimacy of each invasion leaving him gasping, breathless. And as those rough fingers stroked over his belly and lower, curling around his cock, slipping deeper to play and stroke along his folds, he cried out helplessly against Ero’s mouth and lifted his hips, spreading his thighs so needily.

  Only to convulse forward as the moment Ero’s thick, stretching fingers slipped inside him, a ripple of pain shot through him, clenching tight in his belly and pulling on his inner walls.

  He froze, gasping. “Ero—”

  Ero let out a groaning growl, twisting his fingers deeper, and Wren hissed even while Ero rumbled, “Say my name like that again.”

  “No—Ero! The babies…” He clutched at Ero’s arm, sucking in a sharp breath as another trembling flux went through him, painful and tightening his entire body. “I think I’m…oh god, I think that was a contraction…”

  Ero shot up, slipping his damp fingers out of Wren’s body quickly, just in time for another contraction to ripple down his body. Wide blue eyes stared at Wren, half-hopeful, half-panicked. “The babies are coming?”

  Wren started to answer…then cut off with a low cry of pain, curling forward, as one of the pups practically punched him from inside; he dug his fingers into Ero’s arm, holding on for dear life. “The babies are coming.”

  “Oh,” Ero said numbly, only for his eyes to widen further as he shifted onto his knees, hands hovering over Wren as if afraid to touch him but afraid not to, his calm composure completely falling apart as his gaze darted over Wren’s body. “Oh. I. What should I do? The apothecary—I can get the apothecary, do you need your herbs, should I boil wa—”

  “Ero.” Wren caught his hand and squeezed, even as he felt his body gearing up for another one. “Breathe.” And he took his own advice, taking several paced, sharp breaths, resting his other hand over his heaving stomach. “Meridian is too far for the apothecary. We prepared for this. Boil water—ooh.” He broke off, sucking in air through his teeth, as the next contraction came in a full-body wave of tightening pain; he felt bad for how he must be mangling Ero’s hand with his grip, but Ero didn’t even seem to feel it. “That was a hard one. Breathing. Breathing. Ooh.” He took another shaky breath, trying to hold himself together. “The herb packets we made up. Remember where they are?”

  “Yes. Yes, I remember.” Ero nodded quickly, but he seemed to come back to himself at that question, steadying, calming—and his brows knit as he looked down at Wren, his grip tightening on Wren’s hand, thumb stroking his knuckles soothingly. “Are you in pain?”

  “A little, but it’ll pa—” Wren broke off with a yip as the next contraction hit hard, then ebbed, leaving him gasping and almost laughing. “…pass. And then get worse, and pass again.” He smiled as he looked up into the face of his beloved; the father of his pups, who looked down at him with such love, such pride that he nearly glowed. “I can handle pain, love,” he said, and leaned in to rest his head to Ero’s shoulder, tucking under his chin. “As long as you’re here with me.”

  “Always, Wren,” Ero vowed in a trembling, husky whisper, overcome with emotion. “Always, my mate.” And those strong arms enveloped him, reminding him of why he felt so safe with Ero; why he trusted him with everything; why he would face this broken world of theirs and feel strong, strong enough to bring new life, strong enough to shelter and protect that life to create a family of their own. A proper pack, as packs should be. “Hold on to me. I’ll see you through
this,” Ero breathed, and pressed his lips to Wren’s. “And if we’re lucky…we’ll welcome our pups with the dawn.”

  THE END

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  MORE BY BEAST

  Look for more books in the BIND ME series, coming throughout 2019; explore a ruined world where, centuries ago, a meteor fallen from the sky unleashed a new world of fantasies, horrors, nightmares, and dreams as a strange and eldritch Disc in the north transformed the world. Meet werewolves and their omegas, dryads and their lovers, human Seers, and more in the BIND ME universe!

  COMING SOON

  BIND ME IN CHAINS (Bind Me Book II)

  BIND ME IN SILK (Bind Me Book III)

  BIND ME IN ROSES (Bind Me Book IV)

  BIND ME IN YOU (Bind Me Book V)

  ABOUT BEAST

  Beast is exactly what his name says: a beast.

  Half man, half feral animal, wholly letting himself loose in stories plunging deep into the darker animal nature of human kind. We all have a beast inside us, straining to get loose, hungry to surrender to each and every primal urge.

  Won’t you let your beast off its leash?

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