Claimed by the Wolf by Taylor McKay

 
     
    Claimed By The Wolf
    Channing’s Wolves 1
     
    Breath misted in the cool evening air. Muscles burned, pushing him, stretching his levels of endurance. Calan was strong. He had to be because his pursuer was just as cunning, just as swift. And the wolf was gaining ground.
     
    As a wolf in his prime, Calan was a hunter, of age for a female mate and a defender of his territory. However, Calan didn’t want a territory, didn’t want a bitch to mount. Calan ached for the forceful domination of another Alpha.
     
    Blood rushed through his veins, the thrumming of his pulse keeping rhythm with the pounding of paws against soft soil. He was on Channing land, rushing through the scrub and rocky terrain. This wasn’t his territory, but he wasn’t the only one trespassing. The wolf on his heels was gaining. Calan dug in, pushed harder. He was fast—the other wolf was faster.
     
    A growl echoed through the forest and seeped into him. Lust coiled in his gut. His cock was swelling, pheromones saturating the air. Calan tamped down the whimper building in his chest. He ached to lie in the tall grass and submit. Eventually, but not yet. There was no doubt the black wolf giving chase would fuck him. Calan didn’t have a choice. With equal ferocity, Calan desperately craved the joining.
     
    He darted left, his paws clawing the leaves, twigs and rocks covering the ground. Adrenaline spiked his blood, surging new energy through him. He propelled forward, exerting every effort to give good chase. Would he outrun the other wolf? In the six weeks since their first encounter, Calan never had, and he wouldn’t tonight. But that didn’t mean he’d give in easy. He’d run, fight, and finally he’d submit.
     
    But the night was young. Drinking in the cool forest mist, he ran as if his life depended on it.
     
    Taking a sharp right, he lost his footing and stumbled. A cry broke from him, but he ignored the pain and quickly sprinted deeper into the woods. Breath came hard and fast. He panted. Night sounds surrounded him, and beneath the subtle fragrances of evergreen and oak, he detected the distinct scent of the male wolf in pursuit. Calan would know him anywhere and he was getting closer. Calan’s body primed for the fight.
     
    The vibrations of the paws grew closer. Calan’s heart matched the rampant rhythm of the other male. The black was stronger, faster, larger. He was intimidating and Calan couldn’t resist the erotic pull. Fear clashed with the unquenchable need for cock.
     
    A viscous growl rent the air. Calan skidded to a halt. Ears twitched and a low vibration rumbled from his belly. Fur prickled along his nape. Lips pulled back in a snarl as Calan bared his teeth and searched the shadowed forest. The black was here.
     
    Calan crouched into an attack position, sniffing the air for the black’s exact location.
     
    Fuck. He spun, mouth open, but the black was faster, bigger, and driven by instinct.
     
    Calan twisted, snapping over his shoulder, but the ferocious black wolf’s bite was more deadly. The black’s strength and power was no match for him. God, but Calan loved the chase, loved the fight. His back arched, his body hungry for mounting. The black’s mouth angled to bite, but Calan bucked at the final moment, throwing the wolf off balance. The black snarled, saliva dripping from his massive canines.
     
    Calan bolted, his muscles tense yet his body moving with fluid grace. He was a wolf, a natural predator. A laugh flitted through his mind. He loved being the prey.
     
    Before he could celebrate his temporary escape, a crippling pressure landed on his back. The wolf pinned him to the soft soil, trapping Calan beneath the solid muscles of his chest. Calan couldn’t move. His heart clamored. Harsh breaths misted in the damp air. The black wolf’s solid furred chest rested against his back…and then he bit Calan.
     
    Sharp teeth sank deep into his flesh, holding him immobile. Calan howled into the night.