Wolf Submission 1 - 6

Chapter One: New Hucow

Chapter One: New HucowAnna is eighteen when she first meets the man she's supposed to love for the rest of her life. He's supposed to love her back, but they know nothing about each other.

She's eighteen-years-old and not quite comfortable in her own body, with long, skinny arms and legs, a small waist with large breasts and hips that her guardian promises she will grow into. Eventually. She wishes it was sooner rather than later, but it's not like it matters one way or the other. The man doesn't seem to mind the way she looks. He is looking at her like she's good enough to eat. She wonders if he will have fangs when he smiles. She's never seen a werewolf before.

Confusion and apprehension twists in her gut and she wonders if the man can see it, see that she's completely untrained and too innocent to be any good for him. Maybe he'll change his mind. If she's lucky, she will get to go back to the facility with her guardian and he'll try with someone else. It's all just wistful thinking. Even she knows this. He's already signed all the papers. She belongs to him for the next year, and if he deems her acceptable, she will belong to him for much longer.

The stranger is a giant of a man, so much taller than her that she has to tilt her head up to look at his face. She isn't at all disappointed by what she sees. She doesn't know what she was expecting. An old, balding man, maybe. He is nothing like any of the men she's seen in her facility. There's nothing soft or friendly about him, nothing about him that indicates he is ready to help her when she needs her to.

This man is all sharp edges and hard muscles. Even when he smiles, he looks unapproachable and dangerous. He looks like the kind of people her teachers caution them again. Dangerous. She wraps her arms around herself and shivers but forces herself to look him in the eye.

After all, this is the man she's supposed to learn to love.

She tries to look past the intimidating features of his sharp jaws and stern gaze. She supposes he's quite handsome. He has skin as dark as the night and even though his nose is slightly crooked, it makes him look even better, somehow. His jawline is dark with stubble and she wonders if it will prickle under her soft touch. She hopes it would. She enjoys texture.

Underneath the tailored suit is a muscular, healthy body. She can pick up a slight hint of his cologne, but nothing else. Unlike the werewolf in front of her, she isn't blessed with heightened senses and her nose is not sensitive enough to pick up the nuances of scents in the air.

The werewolf takes a deep inhale and grins savagely, his teeth a bright contrast against his dark skin. He looks so much like a wolf that she finds herself backing away in terror.

She's too young to be eaten.

"Hello, Anna," the dangerous, scary man says, holding out a hand. "I'm Javan. I'll be taking care of you now."

She clings tighter to her guardian's hand, but the older man merely gives her an indulgent smile and kisses her on her forehead. He tugs his arm away, prying her fingers free from her grip. "It's okay, Anna," he says. "Javan is going to take good care of you now."

He places her hand in the stranger's outstretched one, and he closes his large fingers around her small digits before she can tug it away. He holds it firmly, encompassing her entire hand in a grip that's too tight for her to escape, but not tight enough to hurt.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Anna," he promises, looking at her, and then gives her guardian and expectant glance.

Her guardian seems to know exactly what to do then. "Be good, Anna," he says. He gives her a chaste kiss on her forehead and avoids her look of betrayal by turning away quickly.

She watches him go with wide eyes quickly filling with tears. Then, she turns to the man who is supposed to take care of her for the rest of her life. They're supposed to take care of each other. She glares at him. It's his fault she's here in the first place. There's six other girls in the facility that he could have chosen. Why did he have to choose her?

"Are you hungry, Anna? Would you like something to eat?" he asks, keeping their hands clasped together and tugging her along into the house. The automatic door slides soundlessly shut behind them and the locking mechanism clicks into place ominously. She feels trapped.

She is trapped. "I want to go home," she whispers.

His grip on her hand tightens and she yelps at the sudden pain. Instead of releasing her, he pulls her towards him until they are standing face to face.

She expects him to look angry. She's not trying to be difficult on purpose. It's just a huge chance for her. She flinches and his expression softens. He doesn't look angry at all. A little sorry, maybe.

"Don't you want to stay with me, baby?" he asks.

She nods because it's what she's been trained to do, but she does it as sullenly as she dares. She wants to stay at the facility with the rest of her friends. He's a stranger to her. But even at the facility, they've made it clear that she's not there to stay. The moment she turns eighteen, she will be listed as a potential mate and be matched off to a suitable suitor. It just so happens that she was chosen the moment she turned eighteen. Some of the girls are there until they're nineteen! She hadn't expected to be chosen so soon. Myra is almost twenty!

"Are you afraid?" he asks, pinching her chin between his forefinger and thumb and coaxing her to look up at him. His eyes are like melted gold. They're beautiful.

She starts to shake her head again when he interrupts with a quick-

"I know when you're lying to me, Anna," he warns, his expression stern, but his grip on her chin is still light enough that it doesn't hurt and he's loosened his hold on her hand entirely, letting her clasps her fingers together in front of her.

She freezes, and then nods. "I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?" he asks.

She blinks at him, eyes growing wider, the blacks of her pupils dilating. "I don't know," she says honestly. She's afraid of many things, but she doesn't know if she has all the words for them. She's been kept alone for many years, interacting only with people like her, hucows meant for breeding and taking care of children. They can take all sorts of males are their mates, but werewolves seem to prefer them, so most of them end up having a wolf as a mate.

"Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you?" he asks.

She swallows and prepares to shake her head in denial. "Are you?" she squeaks after thinking about it for a second.

He shakes his head and looks as though he's trying not to smile.

"But Myra says-" she clamps up and closes her palm over her mouth. Myra is a girl a year older than her. She's supposed to have gone to a suitable male already, but the man who's supposed to be taking care of her didn't pass some sort of test so her guardian took her back and they're waiting for someone else to take her now. She's never seen a hucow come back to the facility after they've left before. Myra is something of a celebrity in the facility. In retrospect, they had been really disrespectful, asking all those invasive questions and expecting her to share everything with them.

"What did Myra say?" he prompts without pushing too hard, letting her take her time to answer.

He looks steadily at her, waiting. It takes only half a minute for her resolve to break, "She says her alpha took her to the bed and started breeding her straight away, and that you'd do the same to me too. That all Alphas are the same and werewolves are the worst because they have knots and they're going to hurt."

He smiles and shakes hit head. "Myra's just trying to scare you, baby. Not all Alphas are the same."

She frowns. "I'm not a baby," she challenges, lifting her chin, her large eyes flashing even though her lips are quivering slightly.

He chuckles and it is a low, pleasant sound that rumbles and vibrates her bones. He places a warm hand on her head and combs her hair over her ear before brushing his fingers down one soft cheek. She leans into the touch without thinking. "I know you're not. It is merely a term of endearment," he explains.

"Endearment?" she echoes, confused.

"It means affection," he explains with patience she's only ever gotten from her guardian before.

She blushes. "Oh," she bites her lower lip. "I didn't know that." They don't teach her too much in the facility, just housekeeping and some basic accounting for if their mates want them to handle finances at home.

"It's alright," he says. "I'm not going to do anything you're not ready for," he promised, his palm resting comfortably on her cheek. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She licks her lips. "Talk about what?"

"Anything," he says. "Mates talk about things. You have to like me as much as I like you in order for me to keep you," he explains. "Is this Myra someone who returned to the facility with after she went away?" he asks.

She frowns and nods, wondering how he would know this.

He hums. "That probably means that either she did not like her mate, or her mate found her unsuitable," he says.

"Oh." The thought of being sent back because Javan doesn't like her fills her with shame. She suddenly understands why Myra would make up things to scare them. Perhaps her mate didn't like her and she doesn't want to let anyone know. Or maybe there's something wrong with the mate they chose for her? Maybe there's something wrong with Myra?

"Come," he says, offering her his hand. "You can ask me more questions and we'll talk over dinner, okay?"

She hesitates for only a second before taking his hand. He leads her into the kitchen, where a full meal has already been set up on the table. There's a bowl of fresh salad, steamed corn, and what smells like freshly baked whole grain bread. There're two empty glasses and a platter of cheese. She glances at him from the corner of her eyes in shock. She's never had cheese before. On the other side of the table is a plate of seared beef with asparagus. In fact, it's the only plate with utensils set on the table, making her wonder if she's supposed to eat the salad with her fingers.

He takes a seat and when she makes to pull away so she can sit on a different chair, he tugs her to him and pats his lap. "Sit," he says.

She shakes her head impulsively, and then regrets it because she does want to sit and his lap seems comfortable.

"I won't do anything," he promises. "I'd just like to be close to you. You don't have to if you're uncomfortable," he offers magnanimously.

"I'm heavy," she says with a blush.

"I'm a wolf, baby girl, and you're tiny. I'm sure I can handle you," he says, smiling with amusement.

She grimaces at the pet name. She isn't a 'baby girl'. She's eighteen. She's an adult now. It's why she has to leave the facility and she can't live with the rest of the friends anymore. She shifts her weight uncomfortably, but doesn't protest when he draws her up onto his lap until she's settled on his thighs.

It's like sitting on a really hard couch. Her fading flush renews itself on her cheeks, spreading down her upper chest. She whimpers, but doesn't try to move away.

"Good girl," he says, releasing her hand and settling both hands on the table.

His compliment makes her blush harder. She's always liked praises. "Thank you," she says politely, folding her hands together on her lap and trying not to shift too much. She knows he's muscular, but sitting in his lap like this makes her feel even smaller. He's holding her so easily, like she hardly weighs anything at all.

"Are you allowed meat at the facility, baby girl?" he asks, settling an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him so that her back is pressed against his chest.

She freezes, feeling stiff and out of place all of a sudden. She imagines that she can feel the steady throb of his heart on her back. His hand splays on her belly, warmth spreading through the thin material to the skin beneath it.

He looks at her expectantly and she realizes he's waiting for an answer.

She tries to remember the question, and when she does, she shakes her head. "I've never had meat before," she confesses. "We're only allowed salads because of- um... because our animals are vegetarians."

She's never even had her own milk before. It's meant for the facility and their customers. She knows some of the girls have tried it, though... Just pull their n*****s to their mouths and pinch their breasts to spray milk directly onto their tongues. They tell her it's sweet and really quite delicious. It's supposed to be highly nutritious. It's one of the reasons why it's so expensive. The other being that it's rare for mated hucows to be allowed to sell their milk. Werewolf mates are impregnated fairly early and will need all the milk they can get for their cubs.

She leans back and relaxes a little against his chest, but she doesn't quite know what to do with her arms or legs. "Do you eat salads?" she asks in return.

"A little," he shares.

"Oh," she gasps. "Did you- did you get this all for me?" she asks, eyeing the buffet of greens in front of them.

He smiles and reaches holds the knife in one hand and the fork in his other. "It pleases me to be able to provide for you, my dear," he says. "We're still half human," he continues, slicing the thick slice of meat into bite-size pieces. It is raw in the middle. "You're allowed a little meat, the same way I'm allowed vegetables and fruits." He lifts a small cutlet of the beef to her mouth. "Open," he says.

She licks her lips and frowns. It smells like basil, black pepper, and other scents she's never encountered before. She opens her mouth and bites into it. The explosion of tastes in her mouth has her moaning. It sweet and savory and chewy in a way that she's never experienced before, the texture and taste making her toes curl in pleasure as she savors it. She chews slowly, letting the flavor sink in her tongue.

"Good, isn't it?" he asks.

She nods eagerly and watches with thinly veiled disappointment when the next slice goes into his own mouth. She whines.

"Patience, baby girl," he says when she shifts and bounces impatiently on his lap. "If you keep moving like that, I can't promise I won't be doing anything for long."

She stills abruptly upon realizing she's been rubbing her ass on his lap.

"Good girl."

The next slice he cuts goes into his mouth again. So does the next, and the one after that. She whimpers and twists a little on his lap, turning her large, pleading eyes at him.

He laughs and scoops a spoonful of steamed corn for her. "Open," he orders.

She pouts, bottom lip jutting out. "I want-"

He stuffs her mouth with the corn and she has to chew and swallow before she can speak.

"I want what you're having," she says rebelliously.

He indulges her by taking a spoonful of the corn and chewing it slowly before swallowing, keeping eye contact the entire time. He reaches for another spoonful and offers it to her. She huffs.

"I want the meat," she demands and she can practically smell the amusement rolling off him as he cuts off a small slice of the beef. He offers it to her with an indulgent smile that she ignores in favor of enjoying the meat.

"Do you want to try the cheese?" he asks.

She nods eagerly. Cheese isn't even allowed in their kitchens. She pouts when she sees what a tiny slice he's cutting from the sizable chunk of cheese, and then opens her mouth wide to take it. He makes a sound from his throat, like a growl but deeper. It vibrates through her spine and makes her feel weak and boneless.

"The sounds you make..." he says, closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale.

She's too busy tasting the cheese to notice what he's doing. It's not as nice as she had imagined, the taste of cheddar sharp on her tongue and she's grateful that he didn't cut too large of a slice for her.

When she finally looks at him, she sees that he's staring at her with a thoughtful expression. "It's very delicious," she says and then, she takes a deep breath and leans up slightly to kiss the corner of his lips. "Thank you, Mr. Javan," she says.

He inhales sharply. "Is that how you thank your guardian too?" he asks, his tone kept carefully level and emotionless.

She shakes her head. "Kisses are for mates," she says. "Guardians are temporary. We aren't supposed to do anything with them." There's a girl who claims that she loves her guardian. He was sent away the next day without warning. "Did I do it wrong?" she asks.

He exhales and pulls her into a bruising kiss, twisting her body around so that she is straddling him, her knees carefully balanced on the edge of the seat as her arms wind around his neck.

She has never kissed anyone before, not even when the other girls play pretend mates and mash their lips together, but when his tongue brushes over her plush lips, she parts them instinctively to let him taste inside her. Their tongues touch and it's like electricity is coursing through her veins, blood humming with pleasure. He tastes like pleasure and want and she deepens the kiss, tilting her head and slotting their mouths together, her breasts rubbing against his chest, n*****s pebbled and hard.

There is a pressure building in the pit of her stomach and a growing heat between her legs. She rubs it against him, rocking her lower body against his hips without thought.

He groans and puts his hands on her shoulders. He pulls away from her with great reluctance. "We should talk before we do anything," he says, much to her disappointment.

She asks, "So, you're not going to mate me?" His answering laugh irritates her and she growls at him, even though the sound that comes out of her mouth is more like a mewl than a growl.

"Not yet, baby girl," he says.