Werewolf

Dante Scout POV
“Leave my hand, Dante.” She stared hard, like the look alone might kill me. “I don’t want to be so close to the man who has this much filth inside him.”
“My name sounds delicious on your tongue, Vin. Now you’ve even learned to say it without adding Alpha.” I drew her hand closer and pressed it against my crotch, hard beneath the fabric.
The color drained from her face. Her eyes dropped to where her hand rested, then snapped back up. I was already fully hard.
Not my fault. I warned her about cursing. That defiant spark in her eyes rubbed against every nerve I wanted rubbed, even when she refused to do it herself.
“Dante, have some shame.” She struggled to pull free, but I tightened my grip and forced her hand to press harder.
If I had been joking about cumming before, it stopped being a joke now. Every second edged it closer. “Baby, the thing you’re calling disgusting took

{This chapter is a Christmas special and has no connection to the main plot. Merry Christmas to all my sweetlings!}
….
“Bring me the dishes, Dante.” Vinorca was busy at the dining table, adjusting the runner and aligning the cutlery, her voice soft but purposeful as she called out to her husband.
“Of course, Bunny.” Dante leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head before heading toward the kitchen, the faint clink of crockery following him as he gathered the plates.
It was Christmas. Their first as a married couple.
They had celebrated before, countless times. As friends. As lovers. As fiancés. Those memories lingered warmly, layered with laughter, but this felt different. Heavier in the best way. Permanent. Theirs.
Now, as husband and wife, the day carried a quiet intimacy that settled deep in the bones.
The house glowed under soft fairy lights, red cherries woven along the

Dante Scout POV
“Not like I’m expecting some hardcore romance. I don’t love you either. It’s all hate from my side. Don’t forget how I lost my parents and became an orphan.” The words tore out of me, sharp and burning, my hands tightening around the steering wheel as anger crawled up my spine.
How dare she say that when I was trying to be decent, trying to be someone I usually wasn’t. The irony tasted bitter. No matter how much venom she spat or how much I pretended to despise her, the Moon Goddess had already decided our fate. Bound. Tethered. Trapped together.
And the worst part was the lie I kept feeding myself. I didn’t hate her. Not really. No matter how hard I forced the feeling, twisted it, dressed it up as resentment. The hatred belonged to her dead parents, a festering thing that bled through me and stained her name instead.
“You are so corny,” she snapped. “Always making me remember, like I didn’t lose my parents in that same accident.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that your parents planned it and got caught in their own scheme.”
She turned to look at me. I caught her gaze for a heartbeat before dragging my focus back to the road. “Why don’t you ever tell me the truth?” Her voice pressed in, tight and unyielding. “You keep saying my parents schemed behind your parents’ backs, but you never explain anything fully.”
Calm down, Dante. Calm down. I repeated it like a mantra, my jaw locking as I fought the urge to say too much. “Why do you need to know more?” I asked, my throat tight. “All you need to know is that you’re going to pay for the sin of sharing their blood.”
“I am already paying,” she replied quietly. “It’s been years. I’m fed up.”
“Don’t worry, bunny. We have our whole life together, so you’ll get plenty of chances to be fed up. That’s exactly what I plan to do.” A low chuckle slipped out of me, the thought of her resistance almost entertaining. Nothing she said was going to soften what stood between us.
She wasn’t getting rid of me. This hatred, whatever twisted ride we were locked into, stretched far too long to escape. Painful or not, I was in it completely, and she was coming with me whether she wanted to or not. I am that obsessed with her existence.
A few minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of my office and cut the engine. I stepped out, rounded the car, and stopped by her door.
She sat there, unmoving, eyes forward, refusing even the courtesy of a reaction. I opened the door myself. “Baby, come out.” The smile on my lips was deliberate. I knew exactly how it scraped against her nerves.
She stepped out without a word. So that was the game now. Silence.
I took her hands in mine, threading my fingers through hers, locking them together before she could pull away. Her tension traveled straight through our joined palms, a quiet resistance that made my grip instinctively firm.
“Is this necessary?” Her gaze dropped to our locked hands. “You’re an Alpha. No one even knows what kind of relationship we have, and I don’t think you want anyone to find out. Holding hands in broad daylight?”
“Bunny, it’s not something I’m ashamed of.” I didn’t slow, didn’t loosen my hold. “I don’t hide. You do. And since when do you know what I want?”
“You’ve never associated yourself with me before.” Her brows lifted, sharp and challenging, daring me to deny it.
“Still not an issue.” My fingers tightened around hers, not painful, just firm. “I associate with you when I want to, and when I don’t. Why does it matter?” I gave her hand a subtle pull, guiding her forward. “Let’s go, baby.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” she grumbled, letting herself be pulled along even as every step screamed defiance.
Her reluctance stayed with me as we walked, a quiet drag against my stride, but she didn’t pull away. The building loomed ahead, glass and steel catching the afternoon light, its reflection flashing across her face as we crossed the lot. Heads turned. Of course they did.
An Alpha didn’t walk in hand-in-hand without drawing attention, and I felt every glance like a challenge I refused to acknowledge.
Her fingers flexed once in mine, a small, instinctive movement, then stilled again. I glanced down at her, just long enough to catch the tight set of her jaw, the way she schooled her expression into indifference. It almost made me smile. Almost.
Inside, the doors slid open, cool air washing over us, carrying the faint scent of polished floors and power. Conversations dipped, eyes flicking our way before snapping back, pretending not to stare. I didn’t slow. If anything, I straightened, my grip steady, possessive, unmistakable.
Let them see.
She leaned closer as we moved through the lobby, her tone low, meant only for me. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”
‘More than you’ll ever admit you hate it,’ I thought, my thumb brushing once over her knuckles, a silent promise wrapped in restraint. I didn’t answer her. I didn’t need to. Every step forward told enough on its own.
“Why do you always make my life hell?” she gritted out. I heard every word clearly, my wolf’s hearing catching the tension beneath her words.
We stepped into my private elevator, the one only I and a select few ever used. I pressed the button for my floor. “You’re so bothered, Vin. Didn’t you act like nothing ever mattered before? So what changed now?”
“Dante, you are so fucking insane.” She cursed, and the way her lips shaped the word sent a sharp jolt straight through me.
“Keep cursing, baby,” I drawled. “I might cum in my pants right now.”
Her palm turned clammy in mine, her nails digging into my wrist. “You’re pathetic. Disgusting.”
“Go on some more, baby,” I murmured, leaning in just enough to crowd her space. “I’m just close…”

Dante Scout POV
“Leave my hand, Dante.” She stared hard, like the look alone might kill me. “I don’t want to be so close to the man who has this much filth inside him.”
“My name sounds delicious on your tongue, Vin. Now you’ve even learned to say it without adding Alpha.” I drew her hand closer and pressed it against my crotch, hard beneath the fabric.
The color drained from her face. Her eyes dropped to where her hand rested, then snapped back up. I was already fully hard.
Not my fault. I warned her about cursing. That defiant spark in her eyes rubbed against every nerve I wanted rubbed, even when she refused to do it herself.
“Dante, have some shame.” She struggled to pull free, but I tightened my grip and forced her hand to press harder.
If I had been joking about cumming before, it stopped being a joke now. Every second edged it closer. “Baby, the thing you’re calling disgusting took a long tour of your mouth and throat, filled you all the way down.”
She gasped, sharp and offended.

Filth