Animal Heart(2)

He felt a momentary surge of pity for her, but checked himself. She was becoming far too keen lately, pushing him for a commitment and hanging around all the time. He didn't want or need a full time mate. It wasn't that he didn't like females, far from it. He very much enjoyed their company, as they did his. He indulged himself frequently with all the females in his pack, and as the alpha, he always had first choice. He liked variety in his lair. He would have a little fun flirting, in his own subtle way, and then take his choice to bed for what was usually a very satisfactory fuck. And he fully appreciated their heat on the coldest winter nights, when he could snuggle up to a soft, warm, yielding body. But that was where it ended for him. No one was special in his life. He had no burning desire to get inside their heads or hearts or to have any one of them messing up his.

Proudly, he looked over his shoulder at the group of fine bodied beasts following in his wake. He caught sight of Verity and sighed with relief that she was safe and well. He'd protect any one of his pack with his life, as he had just proven. He was their alpha, their chosen leader, devoted to them all, and as fiercely loyal towards them as they were in return. But emotionally, he knew something important was missing inside of him. No one female aroused his feelings in the way they should and never had. He had a cold heart. Perhaps he didn't have a heart at all, not a human one anyway. But at least he knew he had faults.



They gathered around the truck and Aden counted their numbers as he always did. All were present. The five she-wolves moved to one side of the truck, and the six wolf-men the other. They sunk to the floor and allowed their transformation to begin. There was a loud rumbling of sound, a combination of snarling, creaking and snapping jaws. Deep growls of straining and discomfort arose as bone, muscle, and tissue began to shrink and revert to human form throughout the pack.

Aden watched his paw. It always fascinated him, to see his human fingers emerge from the furry stubs and claws that were his wolf toes. The change, for him, was not particularly unpleasant. It was akin to a very bad case of pins and needles which pricked his nerves all over his body. And at the same time, a deep muscular contraction pulled at his limbs and his insides. It was sometimes harsh in its intensity, but he enjoyed it. He knew some of the others had a similar experience, although a few found it to be more than a little painful. He watched as his long curved nails and hair retracted, and his smooth pale skin appeared before his eyes. Although he had great affection for his inner wolf, he loved his outer human state more. It was, after all, the real him. The way he had been born and raised, although he did not like to think of the earlier part of his human life too much.

At thirty two, he had been this way for twelve years.

It was considered to be a curse by most of those who had been bitten. One that drove many of his kind insane. They became murderous, sexually crazed, and mad, mutilating creatures. Wrought with horror and self loathing over the terrible deeds they committed in the night, they sank into a hell of their own making. When the moon was full, and the change was forced upon them, all werewolves found it impossible to fight the ruthless, savage beast within themselves. It took them over, obliterating their personality, mind, and soul. Steps had to be taken to ensure that they were secured at those times, very well secured, for they were strong and determined to break out of their bonds, and wreak their havoc.

His pack were well disciplined and content with their lives. They felt they were blessed, gifted by God, and at times like tonight, enjoyed their changed state. It was a pleasure beyond words. Grizzly bears aside.

Aden's change was always very swift. He rose and dressed quietly, waiting while the others finished their change, and one by one did the same. He stood a while and looked at his kindred transforming. He smiled to himself. He had to admit that half-changed werewolves were not at all attractive. Their heads always changed last, and the ears and fanged snouts looked obscene. The hairy ugly faces began to diminish, and his human pack returned to their recognisable attractive selves. He looked across the other side of the truck to the women. Mia, Samantha, Verity, Grace, and Charlene. They were all changed and fully clothed. He liked to keep them separate at these times, not out of modesty, as they had all seen each other naked many times in private, but more to cope with the sexual surge that came with the change. It could be too much to resist, seeing a pretty little female backside appear in front of you in your half-changed state. He didn't want publicly displayed sexual acts in his pack. They were civilised and kept their human characteristics and sensibilities to the fore in their behavior. The Carr Pack were quite refined for werewolves. Effort had to be made to remain as they were. His effort and his leadership. And he was a strong, tough leader. But a good one, he felt.