The mate play shifted without warning.
One moment they were running, two wolves threading through moonlit trees. The next, Xeon cut her off at the edge of a clearing.
He was done chasing.
Aurelia turned to face him, sides heaving.
Xeon pressed his body along hers, his chest vibrating with a deep, possessive rumble. He dragged his muzzle along the length of her neck, slow, claiming every inch of her with his scent. His teeth grazed her scruff and closed, holding her in place with firm pressure.
Aurelia's body went rigid, then softened by degrees, muscle by muscle, until she was pressed into him.
He mounted her, and his forepaws locked around her midsection. Then his teeth punched through the skin in her scruff, and his venom started to surge in her.
There was nothing tentative about it. He drove into her and a sound tore from his chest that was half growl, half something far more desperate. Every thrust was claiming. Every thrust said mine.
