Not Normal
Xander POV
Taking a breath, I release it slowly and feel the tension coil inside of my chest. It’s heavier now that the day is almost over. I ignored my wolf’s growing agitation while I worked and focused on the preparations, on the pack. I focused on anything but the pull building under my skin.
As long as the moon hasn’t risen, the pressure has been manageable; it’s just a distant roar behind my steady rhythm of responsibility.
Now, the final rays of the sun disappear beyond the horizon, and the sky darkens. I can feel it already, my wolf stirring restlessly. The instinct is heavier and stronger. It’s not just expectation, it’s a need, something raw and ancient, and it sharpens every nerve in my body.
Pushing forward, I begin to walk and follow the others who are now heading toward the forest. I follow the path that opens beyond the barriers. The air instantly shifts as I pass through the protective magic, a slight resistance that brushes against my skin, before it lets me through.
The lights of the pack house grow distant behind me, becoming muted by the trees and the thickening night. The clearing is already alive with others. Some people have shifted partly as their wolves push forward for more control.
Their eyes glow in the darkness, and others remain completely in their human forms, not letting their hands shift. The pull of the moon, though, is already hitting their skin, making their wolves want more.
I move toward the outer edges of the clearing, preferring the shadows. I sit on one of the large stones that circle the gathering space. My arms rest over my knees, and I let the sounds wash over me. The low growls, the laughter, the heavy breathing as wolves give in to the ancient rhythm that tonight is demanding.
I can see everyone, the movements of bodies against each other.
Still, I feel nothing.
My wolf is shifting restlessly inside of me, but there’s no pull to anyone. There’s no overwhelming urge to move, to hunt, to take. It’s just silence, a blankness where instinct should be.
Why? Is it because I have a mate? Are things meant to be this muted? I had a mate before, but she didn’t live long enough for us to celebrate The Calling together.
I sit here, waiting, and watching, wondering if my wolf is ever going to be drawn to someone. The moon rises higher, casting silver light over the clearing. The pack moves with it, the wolves finding each other and drawn together by invisible threads. Bodies tangle and writhe in the shadows under the trees, all surrendering to the need that can’t be denied. Even after being with one person, the wolves insist on more, and move to another.
Yet, I sit here, and nothing calls to me.
A woman approaches. Her scent is strong, sweet, and sharp, cutting through the heavy air. It’s thick with heat and instinct, and she moves with careful, hesitant steps. She’s gauging my reaction, and when I don’t move to stop her, she closes the
distance between us.
Her scent is thick and clings to the humid night air. Her steps are hesitant at first, testing my mood, but when I don’t reject her as she gets closer, she becomes bolder. Her hands stroke over my shoulders, light and coaxing. It’s an invitation she knows I won’t refuse.
I remain still, letting her touch me, letting her instinct guide me right now, as mine is gone entirely. My mind is detached for
some reason.
Moving, she straddles my lap without any hesitation, her thighs pressing against mine as she buries her fingers into the hem of my shirt. I know what she wants, and I don’t hesitate. I lift my arms and allow her to pull it over my head. She tosses it aside into the grass and drags her palms across my bare chest, feeling the heat and tension that simmer beneath it. There’s no fire or hunger, though.
I just watch her with empty eyes as she pulls her dress up and over her body, leaving her entirely bare. Moonlight paints her curves in silver, highlighting the flush in her skin. She’s beautiful in the way all wolves are tonight. Raw, primal and desperate. She reaches for my belt next, her fingers clumsy with urgency, tugging it free with trembling hands.
I stand up, forcing her to slide off my lap, and she pushes my jeans and boxers down, letting them fall around my boots. She moves and knees! before me, her mouth brushing along my cock her breath hot against my skin, but still nothing stirs deep enough like the past Callings.
Successfully unlocked!
When I’m fully hard, it’s not exactly for her, it’s purely because of what tumynt is. Normally, move, I touch, I dominate where things go next. Maybe that’s it? I need to do something.
I lift her, turning her easily in my grip, and pushing her toward the nearest tree. Her palms slap against the bark as I press her forward, aligning myself behind her. She gasps when I push into her. She’s already slick and ready, her body yielding to
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Not Normal
mine with greedy desperation.
I begin moving, setting a brutal rhythm, pounding into her without hesitation, pushing my wolf forward, I’m not tender, I don‘ t need to be. Her cries fill the clearing, blending with the low groans and moans of others lost to the calling around us. She begins to push back against me, trying to match my pace, her body shaking from the force of every thrust.
Sweat covers our bodies, the heat of exertion marking every movement slippery and fast. I grip her hips harder, bruising her skin with my fingers and drive myself deeper into her as she sobs out broken pleas for more.
Inside of me, though, there’s nothing, no fire, no hunger, no satisfaction.
Yes, it’s pleasure, I’m enjoying it, but there’s no connection from my wolf which is pissing me off.
My wolf snarls in disgust at the act, turning his face away from what’s happening as the woman arches against me. Her climak tears through her with a scream, her muscles clenching around me desperately as if trying to hold me inside her. My wolf still doesn’t react, so I begin to chase the feeling, mechanically hammering into her with brutal force until my own release tears free from me, a hollow, empty thing that, for a brief moment, feels good, but then there’s nothing.
I shudder against her. There’s no relief, no peace, only this echo of loss reverberating through my soul.
Pulling free from her without a word, she slumps against the tree, and I sit down on the ground, looking up at the sky. The woman moves to the next wolf, and I lie back, staring at the moon.
Why?
I ask, quietly in my mind. Is this my punishment for hurting my mate? If it was, why is my wolf still reacting, just not as strongly as before?
The sensation of someone closer to me has me looking down, and I see another woman climbing onto me. I wait for my wolf to react, to take control and show his power.
He doesn’t, even as she lowers herself onto me, and her hips begin grinding, there’s nothing. I’m not sure if I should stop and walk away and ignore that burning need inside of me, or if this is purely my wolf being stubborn.
I pull her closer, but my wolf pulls back, and this time, it’s not from disinterest.
It’s from warning, and I still beneath her.
My gaze sweeps the clearing, expecting to see rogues or someone, but then I see exactly why my wolf is reacting. A younger male, his eyes glazed over like so many others. Nothing unusual, except he’s moving toward Serafine.
She’s alone, her eyes watching the entire clearing with a mixture of awe and unease. She looks so beautiful, the moon bouncing off her skin. She’s still untouched. She belongs here, and the guy moving toward her sees it too. He steps closer. Slow and testing.
A low growl tears from my throat before I even realise it, I’ve moved. The woman who was on me gasps as I push her off. My wolf takes over, and I’m on my feet, stalking toward Serafine.
I don’t run. I don’t have to. She looks up at the sound of my footsteps, and our eyes lock. Wide, startled, uncertain.
The guy doesn’t see me until I press my hand to his chest and shove him back with so much force he stumbles. He doesn’t challenge me, he looks me in the eyes and backs away.
I don’t get it, tonight is about difference, but right now, my wolf is pulled her Serafine, only her.
She opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t give her the chance. My hands close around her waist, dragging her flush against me.
“Mine,” I growl, the word torn from somewhere deeper than thought.
She gasps, eyes wide, but she doesn’t pull away. The fire I’ve been waiting for, the pure need and hunger that never appeared, has now, but only for her.
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