Chapter 32 - CHAPTER 31: THE WILD THIRSTS!

🐺Dominic's POV:

That fucking bloodsucker almost murdered an domestic wolf!! And ran away like some feral Cinderella!! I swear if he hadn't have that pretty face I would have bitten it clean off!!

Ok, so yeah it's night and a wild chipmunk is out free on loose in the damn forest!!

Ok so I am turning into my wolf form! Classic bones crackling! Furs sprouting out and face turned into a muzzle! Ok Wolf ranger ready!! Ok he is not far I guess I can smell him!! I hopped into the forest sniffing through the woods, then suddenly!!

"Damn it! I should have peed back home!!"

Ok I need to pee to I sniff around found a good old tree and "agh my tree now!!" Ok I peed on that it's mine now back off peasants!

Ok search again!! Yup I can smell glitter!

His trail's shimmering with-yeah, literal sparkles Monster near!!

I can hear sobbing too, from behind the bush Ok I got him!! Ok I will surprise attack!! I will stalk him and then pounce on him from behind!!

I took a few steps back, my tail gave a little whoosh ears pinned back! Eyes fixed!! And then I big pounce! "I got you Vamps!!"

Well I hit my head on a damn rock behind the bush no vampire!! It's a fucking rock. And now my head's ringing like temple bells.

"Agh—but I know I can smell him. And that sobbing—what the hell? Am I losing it? Going crazy?"

Then—shiver. Spine-tingling, like Peter Parker's Spidey-sense. Something's behind me.

Oh God. Is it him? Did he go feral again?!

"Hey, Vamps… it's me. Dom. Your Puppers. Hehe…" My wolf ears twitch nervously. "See? Cute. Furry. Definitely not edible. I—I don't taste good, promise. I'll even buy you boba, yeah? We're cool, right?"

Truth? I'm about to shit bricks.

Slowly, I turn.

And what I see nearly gives me a heart attack.

---

As I turned, two or three cold drops hit my head. I looked up—

"AGH FUCK NOOO!"

I squeaked like a kicked puppy, tail tucked in tight, falling flat on my back, limbs flailing in the void.

Something was hanging upside down from the tree above me, legs tangled in branches like a goddamn piñata.

"I don't wanna die this young…"

But wait—I'm still alive? And it isn't moving either. Slowly, I get back on my paws, creep closer. Another drop falls. I lick.

"…Sweet? Honey?"

Then it hits me—fuck. Lean.

The maniac. The bat. The Vampire. He's hanging upside down, bawling like a toddler, and—oh god—those drops I just licked were his tears. Or snot. At this point, what's the difference?

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING UP THERE? GET YOUR GLITTERY ASS DOWN!"

He freezes, mid-sob. "Puppers?"

"WHO THE FUCK ELSE, YOU THINK?!"

"Go away! I'll hurt you again. I'm a monster."

And yeah. I can't even be mad. Because I see it—the same shit I went through. Leaving the dorms, isolating myself, thinking I was some cursed freak who'd ruin everyone I touched. Monster. That's what I told myself too… until this glitter-obsessed vampire crashed into my life. First made me gay. Then made me realize being a monster doesn't mean you stop being human. Doesn't mean you're evil Hollywood monster.

"Vamps," I say, softer this time, "just come down, alright? I know you're scared. Hell, I'm more scared than you. But you won't hurt me. Just… let's talk. AhOOw!"

"NO I WOLL OGAIN BUET YA!! I OM A BOT MONTER!!"

(Translation: "No, I will again beat you. I am a bad monster." Yeah. Fluids plus sobbing equals baby talk mode.)

"I swear, if you don't come down, I'll hurt myself!"

Bam. He drops. Right onto my back. Immediately clutching my ears like reins, sobbing into my perfectly groomed, silky, black fur. Tears. Snot. Whatever else his body decides to excrete.

"Get off me, I'm not a damn horse!"

"But you're as big as one!"

…Okay, fair point. I'm about horse-sized. Whatever not as usual as a normal wolf.

"Fine. But stop ruining my fur and listen... wait! I know a better place. Hold on tighter."

"What—where—why—"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

"…Sorry."

"Good boy. Now hold on and get ready for the best ride of your immortal life."

He wraps his arms around my neck, legs hooked on my sides. I throw back my head and cinematic howl—

"AHHOOOOWWWW!"

And I run. Pouncing through the forest, tackling bushes, ducking under branches, flying across the earth like a dark storm with glitter attached.

"You enjoying this, Vamps?"

"Puppers!! You're fast and amazing and ughhh—"

A bug flies into his mouth. He gags.

"Yeah, maybe wear a helmet next time."

"You'll let me ride you again?"

"I never said that!"

He giggles, and—damn it—I feel like a horse. But a happy horse. Worth it.

Finally, I burst through the woods into a clearing. My safe place. Where I go after the full moons rip me apart, where I breathe again.

The creek glitters silver under the moonlight, fireflies dance like living stars. The breeze is cool, calm, healing.

"Wow," Lean breathes.

"Like it? My safe space."

"Your safe space?"

"Yeah. Used to go feral here. It's… calming."

He jumps off my back, eyes sparkling like a kid's at a carnival. Chasing fireflies, laughing like he forgot he was broken.

And I just sit down here, as I lolling my tongue out like damn dog cause I ran so fast, watching.

A kid, a boy who was never meant to be a monster but trapped in a body, cruel world, where his soul don't belong!

🧛Lean's POV:

I am a Monster!! A mean, ugly Monster!! I hurt him!! No—I tossed him around like potato sacks!! I hurt my Puppers!!

Sniff. Snort.

He hates me now. He should hate me now. How could I? I— I was so blood-thirsty I attacked him? The guy who gave up his pride to nurse a homeless, family-lost vampire with a chaos-coded brain? He fed me, even when his mom cut him off. Without him, I never would've survived that night. The hunters should've taken me too—I'm too dangerous for anyone.

"NO! I'll never go back to him. Or to anyone. I'll… I'll fly away. To a deserted island! Where I can't hurt anyone again!"

I can't breathe. My chest is tight, my throat burns, and my tears fall like a busted faucet nobody cares to fix.

So what do I do? Obviously, I climb a tree. Upside down. Like some budget Dracula who got rejected from actual vampire auditions. Classy, Lean. Very classy.

Branches dig into my thighs, my hoodie's stuck, and my head is pounding. I hate these blood fevers—I can't even recognize myself. But at least up here, nobody can see me fall apart.

…Wrong.

Because I hear him. Him. His voice. His wolf-smell.

Why is he here?! He shouldn't be here!!

"Hey, Vamps… it's me. Dom. Your Puppers. Hehe… see? Cute. Furry. Definitely not edible. I'll even buy you boba, yeah?"

Boba. He's bribing me with boba. My weakness. That's cheating. And… he's scared of me! Really! The big scary wolf that made me pee my pants is afraid of me? Oh Devils, what have I done…

But no. I can't look at him. I'll hurt him again. I'm a monster. I proved it. My sobbing turns into the ugly kind—hiccups, snot, the whole disaster. "Go away! I'll hurt you again! I'm a monster!"

He shouts something back—classic Puppers yelling—but then… softer. Almost gentle. Almost human.

"Vamps… just come down, alright? You won't hurt me. Just talk to me. Ahoow!"

Ok that little howl was cute!

Talk? TALK?! I can't even breathe without breaking things. My tears drip, drip, drip—straight onto his wolfy head.

He licks it.

And then—

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING UP THERE?!"

My brain screeches. My mouth blurts the only thing it can:

"…Puppers?"

"WHO THE FUCK ELSE, YOU THINK?!"

Oh Devil. Oh Devil. He's right there. My Puppers. My Dom. And he's not running. Not snarling (okay, maybe snarling a little). Not pushing me away. Just glaring up at me with burning yellow eyes like a furious golden retriever who caught his idiot owner dangling from a tree.

And I—I can't handle it. So I wail louder. My voice breaks into baby-talk slop:

"NO I WOLL OGAIN BUET YA!! I OM A BOT MONTER!!"

Translation: I'm useless, broken, dangerous, and definitely not puppy-approved.

And then—he threatens to hurt himself if I don't come down. Which is—HELLO?? Manipulation 101, Mr. Puppers. I'll sue you later. But right now—my grip slips.

BAM.

Straight onto his back.

He grunts—probably crushed a lung—but doesn't throw me off. Instead, I clutch his ears like reins, sobbing rivers into his fur.

"Puppers, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"Get off me, I'm not a damn horse!"

"But you're as big as one!" I hiccup, clinging tighter.

He huffs, but his growl softens. "Fine. But hold on."

Hold on? Hold on to wha—

WHOOSH.

The world blurs. Trees whip by, the ground vanishes, and suddenly I'm clinging to him like a kid on a rollercoaster from hell. He howls—wild, raw, echoing through the forest—and my heart skips. Because holy crap, my Puppers is majestic.

Wind slaps my face, bugs kamikaze into my mouth, my hair's everywhere—but I laugh. For the first time in hours, I actually laugh. Because right now, I don't feel like a monster. I feel… safe.

Finally, he bursts into a clearing. Moonlight spills silver over everything. Fireflies flicker, the creek whispers, the breeze feels forgiving.

I slide off his back, legs wobbly, eyes wide. "Wow."

"My safe space," he mutters, ears twitching shyly.

Safe space. My dead heart does a triple flip.

So what do I do? Obviously, I run around like a sugar-high five-year-old, chasing fireflies, pretending the world isn't falling apart. For a moment, just a moment, I'm not the crying bat-vamp stuck upside down in a tree. I'm just Lean. Glitter prince of chaos.

And when I glance back—he's watching me. Tongue lolling, fur ruffled, eyes soft. Like maybe I'm not a monster at all. Atleast not the kind you should burn

Like maybe… I'm worth saving.

🐺Dominic's POV

"Puppers, come! Let's get into the waters!!" he screams.

I'd hate to wet my fur at this hour, but… yeah, I do need a rinse. My coat is basically a soup of snot, drool, and tears at this point.

"Fine, but don't get washed away," I grumble.

The water's shallow—knee-deep at most—and the current is so weak it can barely push a leaf downstream.

I stand up, give myself a few shakes. Don't laugh, but I actually studied National Geographic documentaries to mimic wolf behavior. I'm a dedicated learner, okay?

Lean pulls his jeans up to his knees and shoves his hoodie sleeves to his elbows, all serious like he's about to conquer the Nile. And then—classic Lean—he slips immediately. Like a dramatic Godzilla toppling into Tokyo.

"Watch it, gay princess," I bark as I hop into the water.

"That was mean! I will—!!" He splashes water at me with both hands like a hyper child.

"Oh, you think you can win this? Just watch!"

I flop down into the river, rolling and thrashing like a golden retriever on bath day who just discovered mud. My fur is soaked, dripping in sheets.

"Wolf water tank: fully loaded. Ready for attack!!"

"OMD no, Puppers, wait!!"

He tries to run but too slow—I pounce on him. And then comes the SHAKY-SHAKY. A tsunami of wolf water sprays everywhere.

He retaliates by grabbing a random fish (??) and shoving it into my mouth. I nearly choke.

"Hehe… I win, Puppers!!" he giggles, still pinned under my paws as the river rushes around him.

"That's the last thing you should say when trapped under the claws of a predator, Vamps."

I scruff him by the hoodie, flip him over, and—oh, shit.

Oh Christ! He looks… unreal. His golden curls plastered wet against his forehead and few floating in the current, his pale skin shimmering like glitter under the moonlight, his big brown eyes reflecting ivory moon like a hidden lake. His lips rosy like wild red lotuses blooms floating on water. And those tiny fangs, sharp and pearly, like treasure hidden inside the flower's heart.

Don't judge me. I'm an arts student, English major. I've read too many lovesick poets from the Middle Ages. I'm not love sick—I just… have an eye for beautiful things.

*Slurp*

Yeah. I gave him a big wet wolfie lick right across his gorgeous face. Tastes good!

"AGH!! PUPPERS!! That's slobbery!!"

"Well, you should've thought of that before you drenched my fur with your unholy fluids!"

He kicks and squirms, but I win. I cover him in wolf slurps, one after another, until he's a jellybean glazed in wolf slobber. He's giggling like an idiot under me.

And me? I'm blushing so hard under this fur coat I could combust.

TAIL! I swear to GOD! STOP WAGGING!

"Puppers you are literally wagging your butt at me!! Is it wolf tweaking!!"

"I swear if you could just speak something normal!!"

🧛Lean's POV

"Puppers, come! Let's get into the waters!!" I call, arms wide like Moses about to part the Red Sea.

He gives me his usual grumpy-dog look. "Fine, but don't get washed away."

Washed away?? The water is literally knee-deep. Even a rubber duck wouldn't drown here.

Anyway—I heroically roll up my jeans, push up my sleeves, channel my inner Indiana Jones… and IMMEDIATELY slip like Bambi on ice. My whole body just—KER-PLONK—into the water.

"Watch it, gay princess," he barks.

EXCUSE ME??? Did this furry mop just call me princess?? Okay, fine, I am a princess, but not in a mean way!!

"That was mean! I will—!!" I scoop water in both hands and splash him like the vengeful Poseidon I am.

And then. And then. The menace goes full tsunami. Leviathan mode on!!

(Oh you know leviathan, the poor sea noodle Big G from heavens, fed to israelites! Well she had a kid, L. Junior now he lives in a water park in hell, I used to visit him every summer when I went to hell to my grandpa's home. He is basically a big dolphins, visitors are given doomed souls to throw at him, he will catch them with elegance).

He flops into the water, thrashes around like a possessed otter, and suddenly—WOLF WATER TANK: FULLY LOADED. He actually announces it like some kind of furry Gundam.

Before I can flee, he POUNCES. My life flashes before my eyes. (Mostly flashes of butter chicken, boba, wolf but still.) He shakes his entire body and I get drenched head to toe. Well I was already! My mascara—if I had any—would be gone.

I'm shrieking, splashing, begging for mercy—and then I spot salvation. A fish. Floating by. Don't ask why.

So I do what any sane vampire would do: grab it and SHOVE IT STRAIGHT INTO HIS MOUTH.

"Hehe… I win, Puppers!!" I giggle triumphantly from under his giant paws. Victory tastes like trout. As he gulps it down.

But then he flips me over and—oh. Oh no.

The world slows. His golden eyes trap me like spotlight beams, his jet black fur dripping like some tragic wet model in a shampoo ad. And then he stares at me like I'm a literal painting. His snout almost touching my nose.

Oh gods. My curls are plastered on my forehead, my lips are trembling, I look like a drowned rat. But in his eyes? I'm apparently the Mona Lisa in 4K Ultra HD.

And then. AND THEN.

SLUUUURP.

This absolute demon of a wolf licks my whole face. Like I'm a lollipop.

"AGH!! PUPPERS!! That's slobbery!!"

He grins, smug as ever. "Well, you should've thought of that before you drenched my fur with your unholy fluids!"

Excuse me, sir. I am 21 years old. I have a reputation. I am NOT a Capri-Sun.

And yet here I am, being glazed like a donut. Wolf slurp after wolf slurp, until I'm sticky and giggling like a fool. My sides hurt, my cheeks ache, and—oh no. Oh NO. His tail. His tail is wagging like a happy golden broom.

"Puppers," I wheeze between giggles, "you're literally wagging your butt at me."

And if he's blushing under all that fur? I'm pretending not to notice. For now.

🐺Dominic's POV:

Finally, he shoves me aside and wobbles up the creek like some battered fish. Huff.

I hop onto the shore after him.

"Puppers, won't you come to your human form?"

Agh. Yup. The thing is—werewolves don't transform with clothes on like vampires do. Vamps just shwoop their clothes into their transformation and pop back dressed again. But werewolves? Nope. When we shift, we're naked. Naked-naked.

"Yup. Just… go grab that banana leaf quick—and that rope-looking branch off the tree!"

He tilts his head, confused like a five-year-old asking where babies come from.

"Why?"

"Well… you see… we don't transform with clothes on. So… I'm kinda naked right now. I need something to cover up."

And his damn eyes lits up.

"Don't you think about it!"

"What? I wouldn't mind seeing you… I mean, a naked wolf! It'd be a great view thoug—"

"I DEFINITELY would mind!! Now stop the crap and get the stuff!"

He—he's blushing? Fucking hell. Shameful menace. Still, he bumbles away to grab it anyway.

"Puppers, here!!"

Okay, he got the biggest leaf. Good.

"So what are you staring at? Turn around!"

"Why?? I wanna see the transform!"

"NO."

"Just a peek?"

"I said no!!"

"A tiny one?"

*Snarls*

"Okay, never mind!"

And he spins around on one heel like a ballerina.

"Don't you dare turn back!"

Well, he tried—several times. After a hell of a struggle, I finally managed to wrap that damn thing around me.

"Okay, I'm done!!"

He turns back and instantly breaks into laughter.

"What!"

"Nothing, you—fuck, I can't stop—HAHAHA—you look like damn Tarzan!"

"What, you little menace!! Just wait—"

I chase him around, holding on to the banana leaf and my last shred of dignity.

Finally, I catch his hand and yank him flush against my bare chest.

"Got you."

He freezes, staring up at me, shy and blue-faced as he leans his wet head on my chest. I smirk.

"Well? What was it you were saying, huh?"

He blushed harder and shoves me back.

"Don't you come that near me! Y-you're a pervert!"

I laugh and hugs him from behind, leaning close to whisper in his ear, warm breath brushing his skin.

"Mm, says the one who was trying to peek at a naked wolf-man." I bury my nose into his damp head, taking a deep huff of his cinnamon smell.

"Why… why are you so clingy and weird tonight?" He is blushing blue.

"Well, being clingy and weird aren't just your rights. You don't even know how clingy I can be. I wouldn't mind showing you."

I lean in, lips hovering just above his cheek, my nose brushing against his skin.

He melts, purring into my crook, throwing his head to the opposite side, trying hard not to blush.

He shiveres—then leans into me for a moment. But suddenly, he goes stiff. His hand flew up to cover his mouth, like he is about to puke. He shoves me back.

I stare into his eyes—and freez.

They are glowing red again.

"Lean…"

"Wait. Don't come near me!!"

He tries to run, but I grabbed his hand and yanked him back.

"Not happening. Either kill me, or tell me what's wrong."

Yeah, I am terrified he'd toss me around again. But I am not letting him go this time.

🧛Lean's POV:

Puppers is such an idiot. A hot idiot, but still an idiot.

First of all—banana leaf?? Seriously?? I can barely breathe, I'm laughing so hard. He's standing there like some jungle Tarzan cosplayer, clutching his dignity with a leaf and a scowl.

"HAHAHA—you look like damn Tarzan!" I manage to wheeze out before I collapse into more giggles.

And then—oh no. He lunges at me. I scream, dart off like I'm in some Bollywood chase scene, splashing through water, slipping over rocks, trying not to trip. But of course he catches me. That's what werewolves do—they catch. They hunt! Well I am faster so I obviously let him catch me!

Next thing I know, I'm yanked right into his bare chest. And oh… it's warm. Solid. My wet hair sticks against him, and I can feel his heartbeat, fast and not cold like mine.

Oh no no no. This is dangerous. This is illegal. This is—

"Got you," he smirks, voice low.

And my face? Blueberry blue. My head? Betrays me. I rest it against him like some purring cat. Why do I feel safe here? Why do I feel like this is… right?

I shove him back before my dead heart would start beating. "D-don't you come near me! You're a pervert!"

Except he doesn't listen. Of course he doesn't. He hugs me from behind, his breath warm at my ear. What the hell got into him tonight!! The Angry mutt who don't even let me breathe too near him without snarl tantrums is...is just pulling me in. FUCK!

"Mm, says the one who was trying to peek at a naked wolf-man."

My whole body shivers. Traitor body. I melt into him, purring like I'm his damn house cat, while his nose buries into my damp hair, inhaling me like I'm some forbidden incense.

And then… something shifts. It's like a wave crashing down. Heat, hunger, ache.

My chest tightens again.

My stomach twists as I smelled in his warm musk.

My throat burns again with that bloody hunger.

No. No no no. Not now. Not again.

I slap a hand over my mouth. I can feel it—my fangs, my hunger, my eyes burning.

"Wait—don't come near me!!"

I try to run, but his grip is iron.

"Not happening," he growls. "Either kill me, or tell me what's wrong."

And Satan help me—I want both.