Silver and Shadows
Roan was walking the city at night, having finished business. Business that he never wanted Cass to know about, worry about. Humans weren't supposed to know the workings of anthros anyway. At least not until it directly concerns them, and the changing tides of things were signalling that it might soon, unfortunately.
Streetlights buzzed overhead like dying insects, casting long orange pools on wet pavement. Roan walked with purpose, hood up, hands in pockets, the weight of the 9mm holstered under his jacket a constant reminder. The cold bit through denim and fur, but he barely felt it. His mind was still on Cass, who is warm, safe, soft in bed back at the apartment.
The scent hit him, pulling him back into the moment. A smell that was sharp, dark like oil. Panther!
Roan maintained his stride, there was no running from a panther in any event, so he kept moving, keeping his ears alert beneath his hood, listening for paws or shoes on brick.
The first attack dropped down from above. Of course.
A black shape dropped from the fire escape like liquid shadow. Claws flashed. Roan twisted at the last second; talons raked air and tore three shallow lines across his left shoulder. Hot pain flared. Blood welled up instantly, soaking through his shirt. He could engage the panther hand to hand, but they are fairly strong, and their regeneration is faster than Roan's own. So instead he rolled out of the way and dug out the pistol, the thought registering that Cass was right to be worried about it after all.
Two sharp cracks lit the alley. Both rounds punched into the panther’s collar bone and breast plate. It'd been a long time since Roan had fired a weapon into a living being. But this panther was definitely out for his head. All panthers were bad news, little did the humans know.
The anthro were-panther snarled, staggering back one step, his yellow eyes glinting in the dark amidst the black sillhouette. Dark fur rippled over the entry wounds. Flesh began to pull together, slow at first, then faster, the holes closing with wet, sucking sounds. The panther growled.
Roan’s own wound burned, but he felt the familiar tingle already. Skin pulling together. Muscle knitting. Wolves healed too. Just not like panthers. Not fast enough to shrug off 9mm rounds and be ready to fight seconds later... though digging those out would not be pleasant for him.
Roan bolted.
He wanted to at least try to end this fight, hoping the panther would change it's mind. But it gave chase, silent, terrifyingly quick.
It vaulted over a dumpster, claws drawing sparks from the metal. Roan felt the air behind him shift, and he cut right into a narrower passage, shoulders brushing the walls, his boots tearing through puddles. The panther would have less movement here, and there was nothing for it.
He spun at the end of the corridor and emptied the magazine. Dumped 9 rounds center mass on the panther in three seconds. Brass casings clattered across the pavement like spilled coins. Roan left them there.
Regeneration or not, that is a lot of stopping power even for this beast. He dropped hard, knees crumbling, bounced off the brick wall on the way down and lay flat, snarling as the holes in his chest bled, as assumedly his heart pumped with fresh hot lead buried in it.
But it could still regenerate, even that. Damn panthers...
The panther lay staring up at the sky, breathing shallow and ragged. Black fur matted with blood. Lean muscle, sharp jaw, handsome even now, features that might have been striking under different circumstances, Roan found himself thinking. Why is his mind wandering into the 'gutter' under these circumstances...
The wounds were already healing, the panther was cursing him out.
Roan’s thoughts raced like a trapped animal. He has seen me. He knows my face. If he's chasing me he knows I am part of the resistance and not some sideline anthro. Normally, Roan wouldn't give a shit about that. But now he has Cass. His human, beloved... but fragile compared to the animals that prowl the night.
And Cass would be an immediate target to get at Roan.
Roan was on a recon mission, and he recognized this panther now. It's possible the panther gave chase early, solo, without alerting anyone else. Only this panther had seen Roan so far. Only him. Just one...
His paw shook as he ejected the empty magazine. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the single silver round. Cursed silver. Etched with faint glowing runes that pulsed sickly blue under moonlight. He pressed it down into the magazine, one solitary round loaded, and clicked it inside the gun.
The council strongly advised that he leave home with only very limited quantities of cursed silver. In case Roan was captured, robbed, beaten, who knows. They didn't want such a rare and dangerous thing being taken by the paws of the enemy.
He felt dirty and dizzy as he racked the slide, bringing the silver round up into position to do real harm.
The pathers eyes showed legit fear as it struggled to bend it's riddled wounded torso and get up.
Roan stepped closer. Barrel down. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, he blinked them back hard. The panther was beautiful in a cruel way. Strong. Proud. Another life about to end because of this foolish war. And the first that Roan has taken himself. And his stomach churned and his balls drew up tight as he realized he was doing it for essentially selfish reasons. For him and Cass.
Roan crouched and fought the panther's arms, and pressed the barrel to the black furred chest, right over the heart. One round, can't miss.
Thunder shook the alley, blue light flashed from the wound along with the splatter of blood. The panther's body jerked and his maw grew wide with pain and shock, then he went limp.
No regeneration with this bullet.
Roan stared down at the slack, handsome face. Regret twisted in his gut like a knife. He holstered the pistol without another word and walked away, his paws shaking.
The apartment was dark when he slipped inside. He locked the door, deadbolt, chain, then leaned against it for a long moment, listening. Everything was quiet and safe for now. He had run home through back routes and woods beyond the city, getting clear before the police arrived.
Cass was already in bed, curled on his side under the covers, breathing slow and even. Roan stripped quietly and put away his gear. He went to his safe, hitting the buttons, knowing Cass would hear the beeping. He took out three more 9mm silver cursed rounds, and put them in the magazine. Just for now... he was home anyway, not out, so he should be able to use whatever he wants. He glanced too at the cursed silver dagger in the safe, but left it for now.
He slid under the sheets behind Cass. Chest to back. Arm wrapping around the human’s waist. Cass stirred immediately.
“You're back and safe,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
Roan pressed his muzzle to the back of Cass’s neck and inhaled deep. Human scent, clean sweat, lingering soap, the faint salt of earlier sex that humans think doesn't linger on them. It grounded him. Pulled him back from the alley.
“Missed you, just let me enjoy your scent for a bit, babe...” Roan murmured.
Cass rolled over slowly. Sleepy eyes blinked open. His hand slid down Roan’s side, found the half-healed claw marks, paused.
"You able to tell me what that was all about?"
Roan couldn't. "It's alright, anthro business."
"Dangerous stuff? You smell like gunpowder."
Roan opened his mouth and exhaled, then remained silent. He really hadn't prepared any cover story for Cass. So he let the silence hang.
To Roan's relief, so did Cass. And it wasn't long before Cass' hands began to roam, rubbing down Roan's sides, his thighs, his buttocks. Roan knew where they were headed next. He leaned over Cass and kissed him deep, muzzle to mouth, as Cass' hands found Roan's wolfhood. He stroked the sheath, working at the member within.
Normally Roan would be emerging hard by now, but he was still too lost in thought of that panther, the alley, and the danger he's bringing to Cass.
"Musta been a rough time out there, wolf," Cass said, smiling and giving Roan a horny look that melted his worry for now. Cass' fingers cupped his furred balls and dug in, feeling the root of Roan's shaft and massaging it there, through the scrotum. It worked, he was getting hard, red tip and then red thickness sliding free.
"There you are, big bad wolf. Hot stuff you got down there, let's get it out where I can really enjoy it."
Cass kept stroking, steady, confident, until Roan was fully hard and leaking against his palm, some lines of warm wolf pre, which Cass never complained about, and often just used it as lube.
“Need it now,” Roan growled, voice rougher than he intended.
Cass nodded, legs parting easily. “Then take it.”
Roan rolled them so Cass was beneath him. No more hesitation. He pushed in slow at first, feeling Cass clench around him, still loose from earlier, but the first entry was always soo hot and touched his mind in the right way. He loved penetrating his human's hole and sliding in that warmth. The knot swelled fast at the base. Cass moaned, hands clutching black fur, nails digging in.
Roan fucked him with raw urgency, long, powerful strokes that pressed Cass' prostate and made him leak pre of his own. His messy boy, Roan called him. The wolf loved that Cass had wakened the nerves and pathways of his prostate. The bed creaked beneath them. Cass gasped, arching up to meet each thrust.
“Harder,” Cass breathed. “Please, Alpha. Give it to me fucking hard.”
Roan gave it to him. The knot caught at Cass’s rim, then popped past and buried inside him, as Cass mouth opened in a silent scream. He loved that.
The wolf fucked him in short, grinding circles, hips rolling, filling Cass completely. The heat inside was overwhelming, enveloping him, the juices inside warming with the body heat, feeling the right amount of dirty.
Cass came first, cock tossing hot stripes between them, his body shaking. Roan felt the familiar pressure build in his pelvis, his prostate, his taint, and the clenching drove him wild, he loved when his human's orgasm crushed his thick wolf cock from within.
Roan lost it, his knot throbbing, warm cum rushing in and around everything inside Cass. He felt trails of it tickle his furry balls. The danger today was really pushing him now, he spurted four or five more ropes than normal.
Then Roan lay on Cass, their breathing fighting against each other then quickly falling into rhythm. He could feel Cass' cock and balls squished under his abs.
No words about the alley.
No words about the panther.
No words about the silver.
Just the heat of Cass’s body around him and the quiet of the room. The scent of sex.
"Roan?" Cass asked.
"Yeah, pup?"
"We're okay right? Just tell me it's all alright."
"Yes, pup. It's all alright."
End of Chapter 3
Thanks for reading! Much more complex adventure to come! And many new characters to introduce you to.
Also be on the lookout in the future for my original artworks for The Lust and the Void, as well as furry animations, under the name "Gots"
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