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Enter Vivian

With her feet bouncing on the cold concrete pavement, and her body bathing in the foreboding white moonlight that preceded a brighter tomorrow, Vivian Belastrude wondered if she had arrived at the center of the universe.

"Mm" she moaned softly. She thought this was what academy award winners felt like. This old soviet city was her podium, the Moonlight Pack the host of the awards, and the audience, the world. Her talents and efforts had done all the work, but in cases like this, you should thank other people too.She pressed her ass cheeks deeper into his groin as she thought who she would mention.

"Ohhhh! - you're so fucking hard." she slurred her words and closed her eyes. She had been struggling to keep them open with each of his intoxicating strokes, that rocked her and the entire car back and forth. Maybe her father? Quite frankly, you could argue that his bond between him and the former Alpha of the Moonlight pack was a huge reason why the wedding came to fruition.

Her mother too, she had always told her that Lunas were not made, but born. And that I would become a bone-fide one. Their pack was not a significant one, it didn't even have a name. Her brothers and uncles usually ended up finding white collar corporate jobs in East Europe if they were useless, and the rest forming new packs with others to take up the werewolf scene in America. But with this-

She fondled one of her breasts, and grabbed her left ass cheek with the other hand.

"Auuughh!. Do it." she mumbled.

"Do what?" the man whispered in controlled breath.

"Don't tease. Just do it already. Ohh-" she half replied. With a quick movement, the man slammed her head against the car trunk, but didn't stop with his thrusts.

"I want to hear you say it." he replied.

Vivian paused between her moans, and produced a voice that utilized the complete sultriness of her smacking wet lips.

"I'm a slut. A slut for Jerome" she sang. There was the sudden sound of clothes ripping and tearing, and an alarming unnatural increase of the man's hair and fingernails under the moonlight. He lifted Vivian from from the ground and moved to on top the blue sedan. Each thrust this time almost shattering the windscreen.

"Ahhh! Your dick! Your big werewolf dick, Jerome!. I'm going to-I'm" she screamed into the empty wilderness below. Soon, her words turned to mush.


Vivian tossed her last pack of cigars into the night and placed her legs on the car dash. Jerome couldn't see her eyes, but judging from the little tune to she hummed softly to herself, and her gaze affixed permanently towards the black sky that did not acknowledge his existence, he resigned himself to the fact that Vivian would be impossible to reason with for the rest of the evening, as she was already in the clouds conjuring a world of her pleasing.

He shifted uneasily in his chair, and decided, with blood and sweat dripping down from his ruined clothes and from breathing in the hot humid four-door sedan, that silence was a far worse fate.

"I could've smoked that" he whined.

Vivian made a grunting sound without interrupting her stargazing.

"When were you planning on telling me?"

he asked.

"What?" she asked.

"Are you being serious right now? Tomorrow." he snapped.

"Tomorrow. You mean, the union?" she replied coolly. "I thought you already knew about that."

"That's not the point. Were you really not going to say anything to me?" he asked.

Now Vivian turned slowly to him. The sight of those thin lips pressed tightly together in a grin made him wince.

"Oh, Jerome. What am I going to do with you?" she stroked his hair lightly.

"You could at least answer the question", he ascertained.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"The Man. Your Mate" he started.

"What about him?" she asked, her attention drifting away.

"You love him?" he was serious, but Vivian only shivered her body in a chuckle.

"I don't think you understand what's happening here, JJ. It's because you've been living among these humans for too long." she replied after taking a short breath from all her laughter.

"I'm not stupid. I know what a union arrangement is." he asserted. It was strange. He didn't know whether to feel glad with her apparent absence of feelings for her soon husband-to-be. Marriage is an institution of commitment, love and respect, his mother would say. He wondered if the same values would apply to a werewolf union; if there was something of a deeper substance besides a "destined" mate or red hot lechery.

"Convenience?"she sounded offended. "You truly have no idea what's coming, do you?"

"Do you even know his name?" he asked.

"Just the one that matters. Moonlight."

Jerome Clintwood understood that name. It was not because he was spy mining information from other packs, or hailed from any celebrated pack in this part of Canada. He was an unranked werewolf in his pack, and his only extent of limelight was that his mother was once a Gamma, and his brother the Beta. Both of their reigns were terribly short-lived, his mother retired and his brother now dethroned to an Omega. No, the reason Jerome understood the Moonlights is the same reason one a human would recognise Amazon or Toyota. A complete dominating force.

"The Moonlights." he said aloud. "From The Moonlight Pack? The bloodline that has consecutively produced the most talented Alphas to the Canadian scene for over a 100 years? That Moonlight?!" he asked.

"Do you see now?" she grinned.

He could hardly comprehend it. Like a catapult, the marriage would propel a lowly pack like theirs to top 4, possibly even the top two in North America. Influence, ability, territory, rank; He could be an Alpha, or if that was stretching it, his brother could be. The possibilities were limitless. A renewed power surged through his groin, and he crawled onto Vivian's bare breasted body, choking her.

"I want you to scream louder this time" he said.

"Okay" she mumbled.


Naomi Holt had never been in a Limo before, nor that she had ever imagined or expected she would be riding one on a Friday evening accompanied with persons that were both her bodyguards and jailers. It suddenly occured to her that she'd had never experienced that many things in life. She had attended elementary school, high school and college, all in the same county save a few trips with her father to the Carribeans. Humans tackled feelings like these by writing bucket lists that they never complete, and she thought about making one.

"Stop the car", said the girl. She sat opposite Naomi, her shoulders hunched downward and eyes that had been pinned on Naomi for the past hour. The car screeched to a halt.

"Tell me about yourself, Omega." the girl blurted out.

"I don't really feel like talking. Why don't you ask your boss? " Naomi replied bluntly.

The girl put a hand into her jacket. A revolver so chrome and silver that it reflected all the faces in the cabin appeared in her hand.

"Carsick." Naomi replied without skipping a beat.

"That's fine, I guess." the girl spun the revolver, her face was blank and her fingers moved like they had done this a thousand times. She aimed it at Naomi's head. "This is the part where I ask you about last words and all. So, unless you like silver bullets...."

Naomi paused, before saying "Fuck-"

BLAM! The ductile suspension of the limo bounced a little bit, and the cabin soon smelled of heavy gunpowder. The girl blew on the barrel of the little revolver, and after spinning it on her fingers, tucked it back into her jacket. Neither her or the other men in suits had covered their ears.

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