The layout of this compound is similar to the last; the steel tables and whitewashed walls are blinding as we file into the medical room for Tonya to examine us for injuries. 

Gesturing to the table, she goes over the cuts on Verando while the others file in behind us to wait their turn. As she pokes and prods, he instructs them on how to disengage from their wolf form. An overly simple measure of simply releasing the cling to the state that had ripped through them when the change had occurred. 

Most people struggled with changing, and this 'breed' seemed to struggle with coming back. The screams haunt me, and I keep my eyes on the rise and fall of his chest; hearing someone else go through it reminds me of what he goes through every time he shifts, only he doesn't complain about it.

I'd been thinking a lot of our past lives lately, visions of battle reflecting in my mind at the slightest hint of past trauma. 

Was it a sign? A warning? 

As I hear the familiar pattern of feet, I free my eyes to look over our new 'recruits', primarily men but there are two women. They range in size from height to weight, though I'd never seen a pudgy lycan. I imagine the new metabolism would quickly turn these city dwellers into clean and trim warriors in no time. At least, that was my experience. 

"Senator Campbell." Verando greets as Tonya maneuvers him, inspecting his cuts. 

"I can't believe it; these are already healing? Did you say this just happened? You were hit by a car?" 

I eye the faint pink lines, feeling a bit suspicious myself, and I was there when it happened. I still have dried blood on my hands. I knew he could heal quickly, but this wasn't the norm. 

"I said you can call me Johnathan." The man seems disturbed, maybe it was his time spent as a wolf these past few days. I can't say I blame him. 

"We're missing one." He comments, earning himself a frown.

"Not everyone makes it when you have multiple inexperienced men and only a few leaders. I have no help, save for Nic who isn't much for commanding lycans; we are very lucky we got through with so few casualties. Consider this a win, Johnathan. I know you're processing this, but I believe you might have information that could be valuable. For starters, how those damn cats knew where we were." 

It seems evident to me, they were running around like idiots and attracted a bunch of attention.

 "How long have the cats been a problem?"

Johnathan crosses his arms over his chest. "A few years, it was a failed government project, lots of red tape so I can't really say how many of them there are. More than I thought now that I'm seeing them in person, we always suspected they would die out, but it would appear someone was maintaining them. 

We had a few run-ins with them, but we were able to outrun them on our way in. I suppose when you came through, they were more prepared." 

Verando nods in agreement. 

Extending his hand to me, I blink at the Senator and cautiously shake his hand. 

"You're a good man for all that you do for our people, Marcello gave me a debriefing, so it's you behind all of these 'miracles' we are all taking credit for." 

Flicking his eyes towards my warlord who swats Tonya away as she prods his shoulder in disbelief, he hops off the table. 

"You're a lucky man, Mr.Mercer."

Once more, he doesn't correct him, and I roll my eyes at the man. "You can call him Verando. Mr.Mercer makes him sound even older-"

Johnathan raises his eyebrows. "He doesn't look a day over 30. How old are you, son?" 

I part my lips and clear my throat, dimpling Verando's cheek as he watches me flail. 

Feigning offense, Verando saves me from myself. "I'm forty-six." 

Johnathan practically does a double-take. 

"Well. That's quite interesting. I'm in my fifties, so I'd prefer your fiance not to refer to you as old, at least not when I'm around. Do I get muscles like that with the job?"

"Job?" Verando looks like he wants to put on a shirt yet with the grime, he settles for a pair of boxer briefs. "What job?"

"This?" Johnathan gestures around. "This... secret society? This mission that you want me to hear you out on. I've been speaking to... Tonic? He's your son? He looks just like you, maybe a bit older, actually, now that I think about it." 

It makes me smirk at least, though I'm sure Tonic must feel that it gives him some sort of edge over his father regarding my affections. "Whatever it is, I want to know about it. Gary, is that another one of your sons? And Helen?"

"My granddaughter. You ask a lot of questions." Verando retorts stiffly. The Senator is one of the few people taller than my warlord, and for a moment, I wonder if it bothers him. 

"That isn't how it works; you're not on the 'team' because there is no team to be on. There are rules, but this isn't- Right now, you're getting on my nerves. Follow orders; you might be useful. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to wash up before I have a come apart over this filth. Stop asking questions about me; if I want to know something, rest assured I'll tell you." 

Johnathan is one of the few people who doesn't look shocked or surprised by the tone and intensity, a man who's been around the block, he seems to accept the terms of the conditions. Verando doesn't wait for his response as he marches off and I decide that my warlord is officially back in business, if he wants to be or not. 

I glance at the man in my best attempt to not look like a lost puppy who desires to follow his master. 

"Think I need to do some washing up too. He really is- well, not a nice guy, but he does know what he's doing. Best to do as he says if you truly wish to be a part of this." 

"So there is something to be a part of." He muses. 

I raise my shoulders, indifferent as I can be. I don't want to get his hopes up, but if I have my say, we won't stand idly by while cats run wild and the world spirals out of control. 

I turn my attention to Tonya, who is cataloging the newcomers, and purse my lips, "I think there's always something to be a part of. It's just a matter of if this world is ready for it. I'm going to get some rest; I suggest you do the same. We're in for a long couple of days."

 Entering our bedroom, I sigh as I struggle to get out of the tattered hoodie. I wheel and spin, stumbling and fumbling until I manage to fall on the bed.  The exhaustion hits me like a freight train, and I lay there to wallow in self-pity of being trapped in a pathetic piece of tattered clothing. 

What if I were to die here? Would they bury me in it? It would be difficult to extract me from the fabric python, a king, and a solomonari sorcerer brought down by a red coil of constricting cotton. 

I began planning my memoirs. I really should write some memoirs. 

Brought back to the present, I feel him behind me, pressing against me as his hands fall on either side of my body. Wriggling beneath him, I can practically feel his grin as one so smug has difficulty not emanating an air of amusement, "Hello?" I ask in frustration. "Save yourself, for I am lost." I voice dramatically.

His fingers brush over my lower back, and I feel the cool chill of a knife against my skin. Anyone else and my blood would have run cold, yet here, it almost seems to excite me. Pressing the dull side to my skin, he pulls up and, in a quick motion, cuts me out of my cocoon. 

I gasp for air, though with my theatrics, I know my options for becoming an actor are slim, as I pop up only to find my back hits his chest as he hovers over me. His lips find my neck, and I tilt my head back to allow him access. "The Senator sure does ask a lot of questions."

It brings a smirk to my face; of course, he's thinking about work. It brings me full circle as to why I wanted him to retire in the first place: he's a workaholic. "Some men just don't know when to stop talking." I remind him, shoving back against his hips pointedly. 

It's enough to make him growl in appreciation for my enthusiasm, though I'm not sure it's enough to persuade him to skip a shower. 

Raking his teeth over my shoulder and then kissing down my back to the middle of my shoulder blades, he frowned at the road rash. "You bruise so easily." He places a gentle kiss on my bruised and scuffed shoulder. "Does it hurt?"

"No." I lie, my body on fire with his wandering lips. "I like it when you're filthy."

He groans at my term, bowing his head to kiss between my shoulder blades in defeat as he yields to his compulsions, "Well, you just cock blocked yourself, darling. I've got to get this grit off of me, about to crawl out of my damned skin." 

Concluding our short romp, he kisses the top of my head and slips out of my grasp before I can even manage to snag him. Not to be dismissed, I try to follow after him as casually as I can while he climbs into the shower. Stepping behind him, I take the sponge before he can grasp it.

"Might I wash my Alpha?" I ask hopefully, desperate to appeal to the side of him that lurks just below the surface. He regards me quietly before nodding; I don't know why he has any excuse to look so suspicious. "Why're you looking at me like that?" 

I wet the sponge, taking the bar soap and lathering it in, while beginning the process of scrubbing his chest, trailing down his abdominals in a lingering motion that produces a satisfying shudder. While he's not the ideal in many minds, he's my favorite flavor. 

"I figured you'd be upset.  Over Marisol." 

Of course, I was, but not at him. Tracing the sponge over his pectoral muscles, I rest my hand over the scars to support myself as I devotedly scrub every inch of him. Yes, I was upset, but at David Malcom and the government, not him or Marisol. 

The expression I hold begins to soften as I move down to start on his hips, those sinful hips that threaten to distract me. I wade through the cascading water, dampening my hair, to kiss his stomach endearingly. The hot water feels heavenly on my sore muscles, and while it stings against the road rash, I'm grateful for the healing warmth. 

I have grown these past few years. Maturing, becoming a better person even.

"No. I'm not upset at you for Marisol. You didn't do it- you couldn't do it. This is not your fault, and I understand that. I'm just so worried about her, I should say. I want her to be okay; she's grown on me, you know." 

Scrubbing down his legs, I skirt over his thighs, anywhere the grime has found a way to cling to his person. This glorious man before me, complete in his physique with his injuries healed, I kiss his hip point. 

"You know how I feel about it; it's just not in the cards for us, and that urge is still there, but... It worked with Penelope, and Soli seems reasonable when she wants to be. Maybe it will work here, too. She's your family, and I think I've finally forgiven you for that." I slide back up his body, spinning him around to give him a firm smack on the ass. "Besides, I get the real prize. You."

I feel him grow rigid beneath my fingers, and at first, I'm worried he's upset with me. Was I too honest? But as I rub the sponge over his back and admire the symmetry in the muscles, I realize what is building is not anger but desire. 

"I've missed bathing you," I tell him, "I've missed serving you. You've been quite catering towards me lately; don't you think it's time I do you a favor?" 

He almost feels reluctant as I turn him around to face me, stretching on my toes as I lean to catch his lips. "Let me tend to my Alpha." 

Sliding my hands up, my fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck before I broke the kiss to wet the gray locks. Lathering it with shampoo and then rinsing again, the man is as clean as I dare get him. 

The way the gray turns almost black when wet does interesting things to his piercing eyes, and I can only kiss him once more to keep myself on task. My hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly.  

He sighs in appreciation against my mouth, invading the space with his tongue as I grind my body back against his hips. 

"Do you know how much I've missed this side of you?" I manage against a mouth that becomes more desperate, more determined to claim my lips as my hand continues its slow, deliberate pace. "Don't mistake that I love every part of you, but-"

Grasping my hips, he pulls me up onto his body, turning to pin me beneath the showerhead; the water pouring over his shoulders rushes through the space between us, and it takes everything in me not to wield it in my excited state. 

"Sometimes a man needs to learn when to stop talking." He quotes me sarcastically; I wrinkle my nose at him. The cool tile of the shower on my back causes me to arch into him, into the warmth of the water. The long, slender fingers fill my entrance, testing to see if I was still ready from our previous lovemaking. 

While I'm sore, it doesn't stop me from rolling against him, catching my lower lip in my teeth with a plea to serve me.

"Sometimes, I miss the obedience." Those sinister eyes meet mine as he thrusts into me, and I clutch his shoulders. Stretching for his lips, he remains out of my grasp, teasing me, wanting to hear me. "But then I remember, you were never obedient." 

Verando moves roughly against me, producing the desired sound as I reach above me to grab the showerhead with one hand for leverage. "And that is what I love about you."

"It's not my devilish good looks?" I taunt him, bowing my head into his neck as I try to focus on not freezing or scalding us.  I achieve the desired effect as he gives me what I've been after: passionate and unyielding, rough and deserved. My thighs scream, yet my body moves on its own, my back throbs, and yet I'm too intoxicated with this glorious man to care.

A punishment, an act of love, call it what you will, but whatever it was, it was what I'd been so desperate for. "So good." I manage, kissing him deeply, grunting as he braces me against the wall to take me mercilessly. The color rises to my cheeks; I'm shamelessly exposed to him, my legs locked in those powerful arms, unable to control the depth at which he takes me.

"You've been full of remarks lately." He scolds, bringing a slight grin as I struggle to remain coherent, "One would think you want to be treated poorly." He lowers his tone in a sultry manner that makes me shiver; I moan back a response, pleading with him in name alone. "Beg." He growls against my neck; my body begins to climb as I surrender to him.

"Randy." I manage, desperate; one arm releases me, forcing me to cling to the brutality of his pace. I hook my leg over his hip, flinching, trembling with the intensity. His hand finds my manhood, circling the tip of my cock with his thumb before pressing his thumb firmly against it. "Please. I'm so close." 

My body is on the edge, writhing as he uses me; I whimper as I fight for completion. "Is this what you want? Serve yourself, let me see you."

I was so sore and tired, yet this act of obedience sent me over the edge. I move against him, starved, crazed, needing more. How could I be so tired and yet so desperate? "I need you, Randy. Please." I manage, finding his lips, tangling my fingers in his hair as I yank him closer to me and grind against him.

Taking pity on my abused body, he begins to stroke my manhood. "Let go." He demands as I jolt from the intensity. Much to my surprise, he finishes before me, growling against my ear as his breathing becomes shallow and he rides out the waves. The act of undoing this controlled man sends me over the edge, and I cling to him as I orgasm. Together, we pant; he curses under his breath as he presses chaste kisses to my forehead and cheek. "The things you do to me." He manages with a hint of disbelief. "So beautiful."

Reluctantly, I slide off his body.  I lean on him for support; his heart pounds in my ear as I struggle to catch my breath.

"I don't think I'll ever get enough of you. I love you.. God, do I love you." I manage, wrapping my arms around his waist as he holds me under the steady stream of deliciously warm water. I could have stayed here forever if reality didn't exist.  

"Your heart rate is elevated. I have notified Tonya that you seem distressed per my upgraded care protocol. Please remain calm as help is on the way." Artifice chimes. My eyes widened as he chuckled, releasing me as I scrambled out of the shower to attempt to get into a decent state. 

"I love you, too." He manages through a grin as I practically dive into the closet. 

"Your heart rate is elevated. I have notified Tonya that you seem distressed per my upgraded care protocol. Running seems to be increasing your distress. Please relax. Help is on the way."

"Shut up, Artifice!" I snap, yanking on a pair of boxer briefs. "Stop calling people!!"

"Your heart rate is still elevated. I have prepared a recording of the events to analyze for future prevention-"

"NO! No! Delete! Why would you do that?!" 

Verando leans on the door frame, wrapping the towel around his hips. "Save that to my personal profile, Artifice. Under private."

"Randy!" I throw my towel at him, "Absolutely not! Delete! DELETE!"