The Beast's Virgin Claim

"Krl." Drakho\'s hasty interrupting voice from outside our tent bursts through our bubble of lust and has me flinch and freeze on my route to pleasure. Phobos groans with discontentment for he is often disturbed before going for the final kill.

"Speak," Phobos commands in an authoritative tone as he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses over the side of my neck evoking goosebumps across my scorched skin.

"I must speak with you...it is important." My male stops creating lovebites and stiffens against me as though he understands the urgency something I found suspicious. This is strange.

"Wait here, Theia. I will come back soon." He says getting up after planting a fleet kiss on my forehead.

"Where are you going?" I question with a frown.

"There is something I must assist him with, it will not be long. I will return to you soon and we can...continue where we left off." With one faltering glance at me, he bends low and exits through the closed flaps of the tent. What kind of urgency is this? That he has to leave my side amid the presence of unknown wolves leaving me alone in this tent. I do not actually mind and staying in here alone poses no risk to me yet he would never act this way knowing I am encircled by foreign males many of whom still did not know my title. An emergency? What kind?

Inquisitiveness and unease of the uncertainty have me spring up from the tent floor and cautiously wander out in search of the two males. Booming laughter blares from all around me accompanying the live music, proof that our guests are enjoying the celebration and the neverending supply of booze. Through the darkness and myriad drunk wolves who collide with each other, I watch my male follow Drakho inside a screened tent that is set up at a far distance away from the commotion.

My restlessness surges above boundaries and that itself is the first hint that something is wrong. I keep my steps as light and quiet as possible as I step more closer towards the tent, I suppose this belongs to Drakho and Awan because of how it is located within the shadows. It serves as the best place to guard our pack and make sure our visitors do not cause any problems.

Swallowing tensely I peek through the small opening of the tent my breathing is slow and steady, these wolves wouldn\'t be able to smell me for I am covered in a mixture of different scents and that grants me shelter. What I am doing is wrong and I would definitely get into trouble for this but I do not like it when certain things are being concealed from me.

It is well-lit inside lanterns hang from every corner giving me the full sight of the situation. Drakho and Phobos have their backs to me chatting among themselves, it seems as though his beta is notifying him of the problem at hand. When they move away to opposite sides my eyes broaden when I discover Moira perched down on the ground her knees tucked to her chest as she swings her body back and forth in an effort to pacify herself whilst she stares down at her with feet with tear-stained cheeks. She looks devastated...broken.

Phobos inhales a deep breath and gazes down at her with blues that are engulfed by sadness. He squats down settling in front of her heat as he lays his right palm over her trembling shoulder. "Moira." He calls her name so gently like he calls mine as if he is her male. My quivering hands ball into tight fists as I take a step closer to get a more satisfactory view. I do not understand what is going on not even a bit. Is she unwell?

Her eyes snap up to collide with his as though his summoning hauled her out of her trance. "How much did she drink, Drakho?" My male\'s orbs never leave hers not even for a second and it unsettles me in a way I cannot put into terms.

"An entire bottle, Phobos." Drakho sighs as though he should have protected her better as though he has failed her in a way. Right now at this moment, it is not a circumstance of Alpha or Beta dealing with a pack member but three wolves who share a deep connection one that never welcomed me.

"I told you to watch her, you know how she is when she gets her hands on alcohol." Phobos smiles down at her showing he is not displeased with her for she flinched at his tone when he addressed Drakho. "Moira." He calls her again and this time she shuffles closer to him staring up at my moon blessed with a look of unfathomable adoration and love. She looks at him like how I do.

"I-Is it really you Ondra?" She whimpers as her longing eyes scan his features. Phobos briefly glances at Drakho and returns his gaze back to her. Ondra? Who is Ondra?

"Yes, it is me." His smile widens his eyes softening and she lets out a gut-wrenching cry as though her soul has returned to her.

"Where have you been? Argus and I, we miss you so much." She cries aloud tears pouring down her cheeks in a way that it is almost pitiful to look at her. She rises to settle on her knees her breasts pressing against my male\'s chest. My body lunges forward to protect what is mine, to protect what belongs to me but I keep myself in check and stay still in my current position.

Phobos does not respond to her he solely watches each of her movements as she places her palms against his cheeks and cradles his face whilst her thumb glides across his cheekbones in affection. The very first rupture of my heart I detect it with a bleeding clarity, my ribs close in striving to preserve the organ that has paused its beating.

"Did you not miss me?" She whines as she sets her forehead against his. My male does not touch her in any way rather his arms are held firmly behind his back but he remains still...for her. For another female, not me.

He clears his throat and gives a terse nod in affirmation as her wails grow more turbulent revealing to me her need, her need of him.