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LYKOS

Third Age

Chapter 15

(Life of the Party)

The drive had been quiet... Too quiet. Marco had gotten used to his pack sleeping on long drives and long flights, the road noise hypnotic to their enhanced hearing, but this time it was different. Artyom's seat was reclined back, his skin still a little pale, his eyes clenched tighter than merely being relaxed. Marco had never seen anything like the moonstone caves. It had taken an environmental suit to protect him from the heat and the humidity... he had also never seen Artyom like he had been after just a few minutes of exposure. The massive crystal spires had turned blood red, and getting close to them had sapped both of their abilities by proximity alone.

For Marco it had only been disorienting. He had been born human, and after the incident with Futurza, he had been human again. It was a lot worse for Yom. He wasn't just a werewolf, he had been born a werewolf. Every gene in his body had known only one life, one existence. The blood moonstone had affected him profoundly. By the time they'd gotten back up the elevator lift and pulled off his suit, it looked as though he'd lost a good fifteen pounds of muscle. It had been bad enough that Marya didn't even yell at Artyom for being stupid enough to follow Marco down there. Marco carried enough of that guilt himself, but he'd had an insatiable need to know...

The blood moonstone had been sent across international lines to one of the Yashin family's secret laboratories. After the effect the cave had on Yom, they had stayed in Mexico a few extra days before returning on a normal plane. They'd touched down at the Denver airport, picked up their car and headed back to Echo Creek. It seemed the rain and the snow was starting to let up, the sidewalks were even dry in some places. Marco leaned back in the driver's seat and took a breath. Whoever turned the blood moonstone into a weapon had clear intentions to finish the job. It wasn't going to stop with a single broken blade and a Tanuki's powers transferred to an unsuspecting bystander. Whatever was going to happen, it was going to get a lot worse before it got better. Marco turned on the turn signal, the clicking noise apparently enough to puncture the veil of Artyom's slumber.

"Are we almost home?" he asked. Marco smiled softly, looking up at the glowing embers of light spilling out of the dormitories that lined this side of campus just before he pulled into the parking lot. While the embankment bordering the parking lot was too steep, he knew the water was rushing as faithfully as it ever had just beyond the safety rails.

"We're home." Marco said, pulling into a spot and turning off the engine. Yom reached up, grabbing onto the little loop that hung down from the ceiling of the car. He hoisted himself up with a bit of a groan before he leaned over and gave Marco a kiss. He managed to miss Marco's mouth, though, and just got lips full of beard. Marco smirked and turned his head, squaring it properly to give Yom a proper kiss. Yom murmured happily before nodding to himself.

"I feel better already." he smiled.

"We're going to get you up to bed and you're going to rest up. I want you all recharged in time for the party at the Mill." Marco said. Yom groaned again, thick brown eyebrows furrowing.

"Do we have to go to that, it just sounds like a bad idea." Yom complained.

"We have to go to that... We'll either have a great time, or it'll serve as a way to further part of our investigation." Marco said. Yom sighed.

"Okay, but you owe me at least one lewd dance in front of everyone." Yom said before he opened the car door and swung his legs out, using the frame of the car to hoist himself to his feet. He managed to make it a few steps before rubbing the small of his back just above where his tail would have been if he was presenting it. Marco watched him move before his eyes slowly drifted to the footbridge that ran over the creek, the intersection of the bridge and the path running by the library being the place where he had unceremoniously met Artyom and been turned into a werewolf.

So much had happened in such a short time. It had been brilliant and terrifying, adventurous and sobering. Many attended college to expand to their full potential. Marco wasn't sure how he was doing on that front, but his responsibilities had certainly expanded. Collecting his thoughts, Marco slid out of the car as well, grabbing his backpack from the back seat before he locked up. A few long strides closed the gap between him and Artyom and they were together by the time Yom swiped his id card through the reader that unlocked the door to their dormitory.

The glass door swung open and Marco followed Yom through. The fluorescent lights used in the lounge area were a bit harsh, making the white walls almost seem blue and the turquoise couches seem garish. No one really used the ground floor lounge, despite the ample seating. Perhaps it was because people were always coming and going. Perhaps it was because the basement lounge was so much more accommodating. Yom had already disappeared into the stairwell that spiraled up to the third floor. Marco slowed to a halt, looking out of the back glass windows that overlooked Hawkstray Hall.

The Hawk's Nest was even more impressive at night, glittering with illumination that held back the cold and dark night. Marco felt a bit of reluctance as he considered the fact that most upperclassmen moved across campus to larger, older dorms for their later years. The amenities offered to the freshmen and sophomores were a bit laughable, and yet Marco held such an affinity for Keller Hall. They had the best view on Grand Mesa's campus, they were right next to a good parking lot, the library, the theater and the convenience store... but that wasn't really what was concerning him, was it? Marco's eyes shifted focus from Hawkstray Hall to his own reflection, to the bearded man he'd become with a bit of a belly. He was a Tanuki, and he had been a werewolf. He'd been a campus Alpha and let it go. Time was passing and in a few more years they wouldn't even be college students anymore.

"This isn't the time for an existential crisis." Marco muttered to himself, although he did reach up and stroke his bushy black beard some. One of the benefits of being a Tanuki was the control he had over his appearance. If they really were going to a party, maybe it was time to be a little bolder. Marco smiled to himself as he resumed the long trek up to the third floor, his calves feeling the heat as he propelled himself upwards.

****

The thump, thump, thump of footsteps echoed up the stairwell and drifted into room 301. It was a constant companion to the room that usually fell to those that were the slowest in placing their room requests each semester. Most college boys did not think about disturbing the peace until they reached their destination floor, if they did at all. In a strange way, that was something that Yale Morgan had always enjoyed. He sat on the bottom bunk, shrouded in half darkness, propped up into the sitting position with too many pillows. His long, slender feet were covered in black socks with gray heels, the cuffs of his khaki pants so long that they almost obscured them entirely.

The twenty year old wore a silk button up shirt, though it was unbuttoned, revealing his pale, barely defined chest and smooth stomach to any that dared look into the room. His long, silky, cedar-brown hair was tied up into an over-complicated knot behind his head. An airy hand drifted, dragging a stylus across a tablet, sketching idly, though his almond colored eyes were peeking through the gaps in the end of the bunk bed, watching every student that emerged onto the third floor.

Yale watched Artyom pass by, then Marco, a faint wistful smile on his lips before he exhaled softly. They were so ruggedly handsome with their full beards, large bodies, dripping with masculinity. Yale waited a few moments for them to pass before he swiped a finger on his tablet, bringing up another digital canvas. This one showed two human figures, one sprawled over on all fours while another came in from behind. Their faces had not yet been detailed, but their muscled anatomy was clear, and their masculinity was even more distinct. The sizes had been exaggerated to almost absurd proportions, an art style that Yale had been working on since he'd first applied to Grand Mesa... and not nearly as absurd of an exaggeration now that he knew the truth about the campus, about his classmates, about his roommate...

Once more the stairwell was filled with the thunderous steps of someone ascending, but the irregular pattern indicated that they were skipping steps, and the resounding whoop of excitement that pierced the quiet indicated that it was Yale's roommate. He swiped back to the earlier canvas, hiding his more adult works just before the spiked tips of Amadeo's marmalade colored hair became visible. In another moment, the nineteen year old all but pounced up to the third floor landing, wearing nothing except a worn out yellow backpack and baggy purple harem pants. The lack of garments made it easy to see the tattoo that adorned his left arm all the way from his shoulder to the base of his fingers, combining geometric patterns and a floral print in blue ink.

As the redhead swept into the room, the pale peach colored light filtering through a handkerchief draped over the lamp caught the gold rings in his ear and the smaller ring clipped to the young man's left nostril - a nostril that flared as he inhaled a bit, his dark brown eyebrows arching suddenly before he seemed to stagger back, wobbling, grabbing onto one of the desks for support in a dramatic display.

"Whoa, bro, I can smell the desperation in here... The horniness, it's unbearable." Amadeo groaned, still pretending to swoon. Yale's brow scrunched up in frustration as he grabbed one of his ample pillows and chucked it at his roommate. The redhead clutched the pillow to his chest as if he'd been hit, bouncing off the door to their room, then off of Yale's desk, then his own before feinting towards the window, then falling back into a heap over his desk chair as it rolled out to the middle of the room. After a moment of consideration, one dark brown eyebrow arched again, "Dude, do you fap into this pillow too?" he asked with a grin.

"Deo, you fucker..." Yale muttered. Deo grinned, finally righting himself, slipping his backpack from his shoulders.

"I know I am, but what are you?" he asked, running a hand over his spiky quiff to ensure his hair was still acceptable after his theatrics.

"Did you have fun?" Yale asked, pretending to sketch on his tablet. Deo stood up and moved over to close the door to their dorm room, moving back to step over his chair and sit in it backwards, looking at his roommate. Yale looked up, watching Deo's eyes turn from chestnut brown to a glowing amber gold, his ears pushing into points as a scruff of brownish red hair sprouted from his chin. Deo raised a hand giving his fingers a faint flick which elicited the emergence of curved, sharp black claws.

"Bro it was amazing..." Deo said softly, "I think they'd call me the pack slut, except I've got too much ego to be an omega. I just find the dudes I want and we mate like the beasts we are." he whispered. Yale's face tightened a bit at that, more out of envy than embarrassment.

"You'll have to tell me about your exploits sometime." Yale said sarcastically.

"Well, if you ever feel like watching..." Deo smirked, though his eyes brightened a bit as an idea occurred to him, "Or if you ever want to use me as a life model for your drawings... I'm sure some of your furry fans would like to see a big, horny werewolf jerking his big, juicy cock..." Deo whispered. Yale slammed his tablet down beside himself as if he were mad, though he soon groaned and flopped back, letting out a big sigh. Shock colored Deo's face. "What is it, dude? I thought we were just playing around..."

"No, you were flirting." Yale replied. Deo reached a clawed finger up to scratch behind one of his pointed ears, his face scrunched up as if it took great effort to think.

"I guess you're right, I'm sorry..." Deo replied. Yale looked over cautiously, considering the apology for a moment before deciding it was genuine enough.

"You have no idea what it's like to come to a school... an all guy's school... thinking by chance you might have some amazing gay adventure, only to realize that half the students are werewolves... Which, again, has the potential to be great, but also has the potential to kill me if something goes wrong." Yale said.

"One of us, one of them or not at all..." Deo muttered the old refrain.

"And so I put up with it, I put aside my fantasies, my dreams, I try to attend classes like a good student... and then my college outs itself, tells the world it's full of werewolves..." Yale said.

"Heh, outs itself..." Deo chuckled. Yale scowled again, silencing his roommate.

"My parents named me after the school they wanted me to go to, and now they're begging me to go anywhere else. I want to be here, I just-" Yale hesitated as a black clawed finger with a leathery brown paw pad pressed to his lips.

"Yale, my dude, you need to get laid." Deo whispered, "And good thing for you, there's a supernatural party tonight." Deo said, stretching his arms behind his head in a way that emphasized not only his meaty pectorals but the perfect wings of muscles that connected the underside of his arms to his ribs. He grinned, betraying fangs again, "And good thing for you that I'm going to take you as my plus one."

"That won't change the fact that I might die if I fuck a werewolf." Yale replied. Deo gave a knowing nod.

"There won't just be werewolves there... There will be Vampires, a Tanuki, some humans, who knows what else." Deo said. Yale blushed a little, though the rose color to his cheeks was hidden in the shadow of the bunk bed.

"Really?" Yale asked. Deo nodded sagely.

"Now, if I can pry you out of that bed, they're running a special on formal wear downtown. We can probably still grab something before they run out." Deo said. Yale smiled a bit hopefully.

"Do you think they'll have anything that makes me look good?" Yale asked. Deo scowled, his ears flattening against his head.

"Dude, you look fucking hot. It's only that mask of desperation that keeps you from bedding a beautiful bro. Now come on, either finish fapping or get out of bed and we'll go get some threads." Deo said before pausing, "Actually, maybe we should fap together, a little bromance time before we go shopping." he said, reaching for the hem of his pants.

"Didn't you just get done fucking a couple of werewolves?" Yale asked.

"I know, less than usual, I've still got one in the chamber." Deo said, waggling his eyebrows. Yale swallowed a little, feeling his cheeks flush even more.

"Maybe we should get the clothes first, and if I strike out at the party, then we can jerk off?" Yale offered. Deo grinned, his ears perking up.

"See, that's the spirit! Save that energy for those deserving. We're going to paint the town red tonight, bro!" Deo grinned, pouncing onto his roommate. Yale grunted, especially as he got a face full of Deo's sweaty armpit before he managed to shove him off and into the wall with a loud thump. For a moment Yale was worried he had hurt Deo until the redhead started laughing at the absurdity. The laugh was infectious and soon Yale was joining in.

****

"There is no way in hell I'm letting you go out there with a bow tie." Fletcher groaned, shaking his head as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Udo, however, merely grinned his elfish grin as he straightened the black tie on his white button up shirt. His blond hair had been pulled back into an artful high ponytail with chopsticks skewered through it, letting two crescent shaped strands fall down on either side. With his hair pulled back, it brought out just how pointed his chin and his grin both were.

"I'm a bit surprised you went with classic black and white. You look like a secret agent." Duncan smirked.

"Don't frat boys pull off the classic tux well?" Udo asked. Duncan shrugged.

"I mean, I guess so. I usually wore my hat to the fancy events too." Duncan smirked. The trio looked up a moment before the door clicked and opened, revealing Yom and Marco. Fletcher was about to bound over and hug them, though he quickly realized that he should instead slip in under Yom's shoulder, supporting him instead.

"What did you do?!" Fletch asked. Yom gave a soft growl.

"Something reckless and stupid?" Yom proposed as Fletch helped get him onto the edge of their lofted bed. Marco closed the door to the dorm room and locked it behind himself.

"That sounds like you." Fletch muttered, looking over at Marco, "You okay?" he asked.

"I bounced back a bit better. We just got close to the blood moonstone in the caves." Marco said.

"So it is the stuff?" Duncan asked with a softer voice than usual. Marco nodded.

"It drains away supernatural abilities. If someone were to make a weapon out of it, say a blade, they might be able to siphon off all of it." Marco said.

"Like the powers of a Tanuki." Fletcher said softly.

"My dad is going to study it and send us the results, but it's safe to say we know what we're dealing with." Yom said before giving a large mouthed yawn before he laid back on the bed, spreading out.

"We may know what we're dealing with, but not who." Marco said softly.

"Despite the fact that it feels like an incredibly bad idea, I'm fairly certain that we'll get some clues at the party at the Mill. All the cool weres are going to be there after all." Udo said. Marco grimaced, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose.

"I almost forgot." he muttered. Duncan smiled a bit.

"I don't know, I bet you'd look good in a hat and tails." Duncan said, "Or maybe one big fluffy Tanuki tail..."

"You can appeal to my vanity later. Right now I need a shower and-" Marco paused as a gentle snore came from where Yom was already passed out on the bed. Marco's lips pursed a little, "and maybe a bit of a rest." he said. Udo still moved over and pulled Marco into a hug, rubbing his back. Marco brought his forehead to rest against Udo's. It was a great relief to be back with his pack.

****

Gravity was a nearly immutable concept, one ingrained in the subconscious of all living beings. Whether it was a droplet or a raging river, water flowed downhill. It was a concept that humans had turned into progress, bending that power to work to their benefit. The Echo Creek Mill had been just such a machination, using the flowing water to grind flour and other necessities for early settler life. Over the years, though, the mill had become more of a historical piece to the town, and then it had been transformed into an unlikely event space.

The building had been renovated twice over, and while a large percentage of the almost two hundred year old brick and mortar remained, other portions of the building were a combination of fresh wood, steel and glass. The sharp contrast had been intentional by the descendants of the original mill owners, evoking a sense that the future blossomed out of the past. This was apparent even on the wood bridge that spanned the creek and led to the entrance. As the great water wheel spun under the cascading force of the creek, a glass encased waterfall pumped water up before it cascaded down a labyrinthine zig zag of agates and other river stones.

Rapid thumps came as party guests crossed the bridge, stepping through the open double doors to the mill. They moved down the long hallway lined with framed photographs of the mill's past before stepping into the massive cube event space that stretched out over a curve in the creek. The floor was made from perfectly smooth, sunbleached wood beams while three of the walls were glass. Floor to ceiling silver streamers hung down and fluttered from the slightest movement of air, causing a shimmering effect. Light machines spun and swung, casting ever changing sparkles across the space.

A crescent of tables hugged the back walls, leaving the veiled windows to serve as a backdrop to any dancing. A long table had been set up with party friendly drinks, including a punch fountain bubbling with the red liquid. The night was quite young, though some guests had already started to show up. A cluster of young men were in one corner practicing their rendition of the Harlem Shake while others seemed to be clutching their cups in anticipation of the night to come. It had been entirely expected that the guests would be almost entirely male given the fact that Grand Mesa was a male only university, but nothing existed in a vacuum and it seemed some of the students had invited women from the town itself, one such couple holding onto one another and dancing even in the absence of any slow music.

Sparkles of light slipped down Yale's face as he stood in the doorway, soaking it all in. Like the decor, Yale was a vision in silver. The light almost seemed camouflaged as it slipped across his dark gray suit, the fabric imprinted with a diamond stitching that gave it texture. He wore gray slacks and dress shoes and his cedar colored hair was held up by silver hair sticks. He was tall, lean, and his mouth hung slightly agape as he looked at the venue before him. It felt like something out of one of his webcomics. Yale nearly jumped out of his skin as a clawed hand came down on his right shoulder while Amadeo sidled up to his left side.

"Bro, you gotta loosen up. These men can smell fear, most of them literally." Deo grinned, both his spiked hair and his teeth looking a little sharper than normal.

"How about we start with me promising to have a good time and take it from there." Yale offered. Deo gave a weary sigh and shrugged.

"I did my part, I got you here." Deo said, although he lowered his head as one of the seniors walked by, their pants tailored around their rather round, muscular ass. Deo let out a soft, low whistle, "And if you'll excuse me, I've got a bit of hunting to do." he said before he slunk off after his prey. Yale watched him go before glancing around a little awkwardly, moving over to the refreshment table. He picked up one of the cups and reached for the punch bowl before red liquid started pouring into his cup, seemingly on its own. Yale nearly jumped, looking up into the most incredible dark eyes he'd ever seen.

The person serving him wore no suit jacket, but the suit vest was a metallic green, contrasting with the black tie over a black button up shirt. His pants, however, were also metallic green. Long, luxurious black dreadlocks cascaded down freely to spill over his shoulders. His skin was the color of driftwood, though there was a little green coloration at the corners of his eyes and cheekbones that harkened back to his suit. Yale looked at how nicely the man was dressed, guessing him to be in his late twenties perhaps.

"You don't look like a caterer." Yale hazarded.

"Oh, I'm not, though I am in the business of helping people." he replied, his voice having a hint of a British accent. The green clad man dipped the ladle back into the punch bowl, "Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked. Yale nodded eagerly, sipping at the punch for courage, though at the moment it had not been spiked by anything other than a little bit of sherbet.

"I am. I'm pretty lucky to be here." Yale admitted. The dreadlocked man tilted his head slightly in consideration.

"Because you are human?" he asked. Yale looked up, eyes dilating slightly as his skin paled even more.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked in dismay. The other man smiled a bit, filling a cup for himself before taking a sip. He gestured out to the crowd, revealing that his fingernails were each painted a metallic silver color.

"Every species here has a distinct tell, at least for those with a nose for it." the man explained, his accent giving each word a particular sharpness, "It is a bit ironic considering that Futurza worked so hard to develop some sort of 'werewolf detector'. Most werewolves smell of sandalwood, to a degree at least. The foo dogs smell of fresh hay."

"And how do I smell?" Yale asked. The other man smiled almost wickedly.

"You smell quite good, if I must admit." he grinned, taking a sip of his drink before turning and slinking away. Yale watched the fluid sway of his hips, side to side, hypnotic and entrancing, feeling blessed to see the man go even though he wished he had not departed. The dreadlocked man paused, turning to look back, "Are you not coming to the balcony to discover what I smell like?" he asked. Yale inhaled in surprise, nearly dropping his drink before he followed after. Yale managed to slip out of the doorway just as Marco arrived, flanked by the four members of his pack.

A few flashes went off as some of the party guests took pictures of Marco and his pack, each of them sporting formal wear for the occasion. Marco's black suit jacket had been covered on his right shoulder and sleeve with a gold print of hibiscus and anthurium flowers. Udo had retained his spy-like black and white classic outfit, complete with the bow tie that incensed Fletcher. Yom's suit looked black until light hit it, revealing a burnished metallic red element. Duncan had dug out a classic suit from his frat days while Fletcher stood out from the rest, wearing a sunburst harvest gold suit jacket over a white shirt and white slacks.

"It feels like prom." Fletcher commented, looking around.

"Except we're the unfashionably early ones." Duncan added.

"I wouldn't know, I didn't go to prom." Udo shrugged.

"We should probably act casual... Let's mingle, look around. I'll grab our seats." Marco said before heading to claim one of the tables in the corner, his eyes surveying the crowd as he moved. He recognized nearly everyone there from the campus pack, including Ethan but not his brother. Marco had no sooner pulled out the chair at one of the tables before there was a sizzling sound coming from pyramids of blank paper. Marco's name appeared on one before Artyom, Fletcher, Udo and Duncan appeared on the others, leaving three seats blank. Marco froze, his breath catching in his throat.

"It is a party trick, nothing to be alarmed by. You must be Marco Iona?" A smooth, distinctly British voice came. Marco turned to see a fresh faced young man, his black curly hair pulled into a voluminous ponytail. Golden spike earrings dangled from each ear on a chain while matte black oval sunglasses rested on his nose. The peach fuzz on his upper lip was a dark black, looking as though it had never seen the blade of a razor. His olive tinted skin seemed a bit pale in the lighting of the party but he filled out his suit with firm and fit muscles. The cut of the suit was a bit older, split tails hanging down behind his posterior.

"You have me at a disadvantage. I am Marco." Marco said, taking in the man. He smiled, betraying canine teeth that were clearly fangs. Come to think of it, his ears were a bit pointed as well. Marco inhaled slowly, detecting the faintest traces of iron in the air.

"Perhaps not as much of a disadvantage as you let on." The man smiled even more at that, showing off more of his fangs. "Yes, I am a Varos. My name is Atsu Saeed. I am the sponsor of this event."

"More than just this event... I recognize your name. You are a benefactor for the Lotus Blossom fund. You help ensure the keepers can provide security." Marco said. Again, the man smiled.

"And I recognize your name, of course. The famed campus Alpha that took on the dead patron spirit of the direwolves before taking down a corrupt corporation. I had been so hoping that you would attend." Atsu said.

"It was hard to pass up such a unique invitation. Was it party magic that helped you deliver the invitations?" Marco asked. Atsu shook his head.

"The credit for that ingenuity goes to my familiar, Tychon." Atsu said, looking around for a moment to determine where his assistant had gone. Still, Atsu returned his attention to Marco, "I want you and your pack to enjoy this evening, as well as all of your classmates. If you feel like stealing away from the party for a few moments of conversation or harder drinks, I will be upstairs for most of the night. I do hope we get an opportunity to talk more as things wind down."

"You're not going to enjoy the party with us?" Marco asked curiously. Atsu let out a soft chuckle, his spike earrings swinging as he shook his head.

"No, parties are for the young, I am afraid... but when one has lived so long, it is still possible to enjoy life's essence vicariously through others. Have enough fun for the both of us." Atsu said before he bowed his head to Marco, drifting through the party. Marco was left standing there, watching the vampire mingle, wondering to himself just how old this benefactor might be. A few hoots and hollers came before Tobin appeared at the entrance to the event space, gold filagree woven into his hair twists. Almost three inches of thick black hair hung down from the point of his chin while dark stubble had crept up to meet the freshly faded hair on the sides of his head.

"Nice digs, I think this is going to be a wild night." The alpha said as he strode in, followed by almost a dozen of the werewolves from campus. Tobin shot the dancers in the corner a clawed thumb's up, giving a wolf whistle to some of the other guests. Spotting Artyom, he gave a bit of a head nod. Yom did not return the favor, watching him pass. Udo came up by Artyom's side. Nothing had been said between Tobin and Marco's pack. The two had mostly kept clear of one another, but as Tobin's star rose, it had felt a little like he was resentful of the acclaim Marco had attained only to let it go. The fact that some of the largest and most prestigious werewolves had remained by him even when he had been turned back into a human had been an unspoken point of contention for the campus pack.

"Everyone, everyone, if I may have a word." Atsu's voice cut through the music. The DJ was a little slow on the uptake, although when he looked up and met eyes with Atsu, his hands moved as if they were on autopilot to silence the speakers at once. Nodding in satisfaction, Atsu looked out at his guests, "People of Echo Creek, a few of you may know me. For those that don't, I hope that you will come to think of me fondly in time. My name is Atsu, and I... am a vampire." he admitted. There was a general murmur in the party goers, though Marco wasn't taking his eyes off their benefactor.

"Like Twilight?" Someone in the crowd asked. Atsu gave a bemused grimace.

"No, nothing quite like that fiction..." Atsu responded, bolstering himself back up, "But like many of you, I am... other." he said, accentuating that last word, "Marginalized, used to a life of hiding. In my many years I came to learn of the werewolves, their keepers, their secrets and their magics. I admired the communities built by the werewolves, the secret maintained for so long. But a secret can cut deep, it can fester. I was so proud when your town leaders announced themselves, and announced their wish to create a safe space for those that walk beneath the moonlight. I may be past my days of attending college, but I can yearn for a youth lived without the shackles of secrecy. I want you all to enjoy your lives; to live as you were truly meant to... Just don't forget when the partying is over that you attend your classes as well. I expect you all to do great things. Become doctors, philosophers, world shapers...Affect change. When you speak, it shall echo far across the world and bring change." Atsu said.

There was a moment of silence as everyone soaked in the heady words before cheers erupted. There were hoots, hollers, raised fists and cheers. Atsu smiled a bit, looking out at them, watching as the guests began to let go of their guises. Tobin's eyes gleamed gold as his ears shifted to full wolf, a tail sprouting out of his pants. The clatter of shoes came as several took off their footwear in favor of letting their paws grow out. Fang filled grins were exposed and the air grew hot and humid. Atsu gave the DJ one more glance and the music came crashing back in with a pounding vitality. Young men began to move toward one another, gyrating and dancing to the beat, letting loose. Atsu navigated through the sea of testosterone, excusing himself from the fray. Marco stood by their table, watching Atsu move, never losing track.

****

Bass reverberated through the event space, rippling through the wooden floorboards. The punch in the punchbowl rippled and the windows were even thrumming with the beat. Bodies gyrated and undulated in close proximity in the center of the room while the tables acted like coral reefs teeming with social life. Amid it all, Thackary stood in the corner, nursing his red plastic cup of punch. His blond hair had been done up more artfully than its typical barista ponytail, complimenting the modest gray suit vest and slacks he wore over a mocha colored shirt. Curtis gave a sheepish expression as he moved back over, reaching into his suit pocket to produce a small bronze colored flask.

"You look like you could use a drink." Curtis said. Thackary's eyebrows relaxed a bit as he snapped back from wherever his thoughts had drifted to.

"You mean they haven't spiked the punchbowl yet?" he asked, smiling a little. Curtis laughed gently.

"About that, actually..." he said, gesturing over his shoulder. Thackary caught the glint of one of the campus' werewolves' earrings as he approached the punchbowl, a slight smirk framed by a black mustache and soul patch. He withdrew a small glass bottle from the deep pockets of his pants and withdrew the stopper, tilting the bottle toward the edge of the punchbowl. As the liquid reached the rim, however, a pearlescent shimmer rippled across the punchbowl. The honey colored alcohol rolled across the faint curvature of the barrier before spilling onto the waterproof table cloth. The werewolf looked so dismayed that the black tail he'd been wagging moments before suddenly drooped between his legs. Thackary couldn't help but chuckle.

"Okay, that is one of Ren's better ones..." he mused happily. Curtis sidled up to his boyfriend, nudging in until his shoulder found the crook of the keeper's armpit. Sensing the unspoken request, Thackary slung his free arm over his shaggy haired companion's shoulders. Curtis smiled innocently as he looked up, though his eyes became more thoughtful.

"You looked pretty tense when I came over, almost like you were on duty." he said softly. Thackary's face shifted again as if he was caught in an unfortunate truth. He looked down at the punch in his cup as if the red liquid could offer him courage. Curtis couldn't help but appreciate seeing the freckles peeking out from the keeper's collar.

"After so many years doing what I do, I guess I always feel like I'm on duty, especially with so many weres here." Thackary said. Curtis nodded, looking around. Sure enough, as the night had progressed, there were countless tails wagging, ears quirking and claws being brandished as people ate, drank and were merry.

"So there weren't any big werewolf parties before?" Curtis asked, pouring some of his secret spirits into his own punch.

"Oh there were..." Thackary said with a worn laugh, "Just not here. There were conventions where hundreds of werewolves would gather in secret to celebrate one another, to meet and greet, to forge political alliances or bury the hatchet. They even had members of their pack face off in the 'battle of the betas'." Thackary said with a bit of an edge in his voice. Curtis looked quite interested, though hesitant.

"I'm no predator, but that kind of sounds like fun... What was the problem?" Curtis asked. Thackary took a sip from his punch before exhaling.

"Before the eclipse revealed the werewolves, there were ironclad rules that most keepers followed, but a lot of our practices were open to interpretation. Echo Creek kept the secret by keeping the circles small, avoiding undue interest, limiting pack size, and finding different levers for those that discovered the secret to entice them to keep it. One of our cousin communities, Cerulean Falls in Northern California, took a different approach. Anyone that discovered the secret was given only one option - accept the bite. One of us, one of them or not at all." Thackary said. Curtis looked a bit concerned at that, his doleful brown eyes replaying everything he had seen in the news from the eclipse.

"Seems like you'd wind up with a lot more werewolves that way." Curtis said. Thackary nodded and inclined his head toward the party.

"And now the werewolves are out and proud and I don't know what to do with myself." Thackary murmured. Curtis pursed his lips a bit, setting his drink down on a nearby table before taking Thackary's and doing the same.

"First of all, you aren't here as a Keeper. You are here as my date." Curtis said, taking Thackary's hands in his, "Second of all, don't tell me that your happy go lucky attitude in the coffee shop is just a mask. I am addicted to your smile." Curtis said, leading Thackary out to the dance floor. Thackary couldn't help but smile despite himself.

"Embrace the beat?" Thackary asked.

"Become the life of the party." Curtis said, standing up on his tiptoes. One hand reached up to hold Thackary's head, the other steadying himself by bracing on the blond man's hip. As they embraced, Thackary felt something firm but velvety bump his forehead. When Thackary pulled back, he saw that Curtis had let his antlers push free from his head, his ears growing longer and thinner, curling into a folded teardrop shape as they twitched from the side of his head. He looked serene and elegant, though Thackary knew how much more a part of nature he looked when he was naked.

Thackary but his bottom lip before he grabbed onto Curtis' ass with one hand, then the other, then tugged ever so gently. His suit pants slipped down enough to let the fuzzy flag of a deer tail pop free, waggling behind him. Nearby a redheaded werewolf sniffed the air, his eyes glinting a molten gold, turning his head before spotting the two. A faint whimper left his lips as he moved over to rejoin his friends.

"Ah damn, he's already dancing with that human..." the wolf muttered, glancing back at Curtis' slack covered butt with a hungry expression. Thackary's heart sped up a bit, at least until Curtis raised a hand to rest on his chest.

"He's not a threat, just an unlucky sap who couldn't land someone like me." Curtis whispered. Thackary couldn't help but grin at that, grinding against his partner, appreciating the close contact.

****

The babbling of the creek seemed almost too tranquil compared to the muffled music coming from the event space. The windows were masked with the silver streamers, only allowing the faint pulsing of colored lights to bleed through. Yale leaned back against the old wooden guard rails, his silver suit standing out more in the night air than it had inside. He couldn't stop smiling, looking at Tychon. Tychon reached up to brush a few stray dreadlocks back behind the silver cuff on his ear. The two had been talking for almost a half hour, secluded away by themselves.

"You attended the school in hopes to find a boyfriend?" Tychon asked in awe. Yale blushed a little, although his embarrassment had been fading away the longer he talked with the unique individual.

"I mean... I thought I could get a good education anywhere, but when else could I have the freedom to go looking for a soul mate?" Yale asked.

"The idea that werewolves exist was a shock to many. How did you react to discovering that you attended a school filled with them?" Tychon asked. This time it was Yale's turn to brush a bang back out of his face.

"It's actually pretty common at Grand Mesa... They call it the Freshman Fap? The administrators try their hardest not to pair humans and werewolves together unless they requested it, but every year there's inevitably an uneven number of applicants and something has to give. Apparently werewolves are a bit..." Yale trailed off.

"Libidinous?" Tychon offered. Yale chuckled.

"I was going to say horny... Anyway, the freshman fap is when a human roommate comes in and finds their roommate wolfing out as they jack off or have sex or whatever. For me, it was finding my roommate raw dogging my calculus tutor, and I stress the word dog... Full tails, paws, the works..." Yale said, though his eyes drifted off to the windows of the party. Tychon slowly leaned back, his posture bringing him more in line with the human.

"And how did this affect your hopes for romance and adventure at university?" Tychon asked. This time Yale looked down at the wooden slats of the balcony. Tychon stepped forward, reaching out to lift Yale's chin with a clawed finger. When Yale looked up, he met the most intense black eyes he had ever seen. The black spilled out to envelop the entire eye before bright, glowing silver irises emerged like twin crescent moons. Yale's drink fell to the ground, the ruby colored punch spilling out to dribble between the beams.

"What did you think when the werewolvesss revealed themselvessss...." Tychon murmured, the green coloring creeping across his cheeks, spreading out from his eyes, his teeth looking longer in the light.

"I felt defeated..." Yale murmured, no restraint or hesitation in his voice as he lost himself in Tychon's eyes. Tychon leaned closer, his nose flattening slightly, his nostrils compressing into slits.

"Defeated how?" Tychon asked. Yale was held in place by an unseen force, unable to move.

"How could I ever live up to that? Who would want a milquetoast human like me? I couldn't even risk becoming a werewolf, I'd probably get anaphylactic shock and die." Yale whispered. Tychon hissed slightly, not entirely liking the human's attitude, but he still sensed something inside, an ember worth fanning.

"But if you could join them, would you?" Tychon asked.

"Yes..." Yale replied.

"Why?" Tychon hissed, sharp fangs slowly curving down out of his mouth.

"I want to be more, I want to be special, I want to be..." Yale panted.

"Yesss? What do you want to be?" Tychon hissed.

"I want to be with Deo..." Yale murmured. Tychon slowly licked his lips as they grew firm with segmenting scales.

"You want to be enough to win the heart and loins of your most virile roommate?" Tychon asked.

"Yes..." Yale murmured.

"You want to be special, to be more than enough for him, to have him hang on your every word, to crave nothing more than your flesh..." Tychon whispered. Despite the hypnotic hold on him, Yale nearly writhed.

"Yes.... I want it... I want him..." Yale moaned. Tychon leaned even closer, bringing his nostril slits within centimeters from Yale's nose. Yale nearly squeaked, looking into those black and silver eyes, feeling as though he could see undulating rainbows dancing infinitesimally in those silver slits.

"Yale Morgan, you... are a stud... You are young, strong, virile. Anyone would be lucky to bed you, but you crave only the best. You will take the king of the forest and make him yours... But to do that, you will have to take a leap of faith and leave your humanity behind... Would you do that, Yale? Would you shed your human skin and emerge as something far more special?" Tychon whispered. Yale gasped.

"Yes..." he moaned. Tychon shuddered with the potency of the moment before he came down, sinking long fangs into Yale's neck. Yale gasped in shock, eyes going wide before he let out a cooing moan.

Tychon's black and silver eyes fluttered shut as he felt his venom pumping out into Yale's neck. He tasted the virgin flesh beneath his tongue, filling his sinuses with the needy, urgent, heady aroma of desire. He felt Yale's muscles start to give out, his body growing weaker and softer, but this wasn't his paralytic venom. No, this was a very special sort. Clawed hands wrapped around Yale, holding him upright as he fell back against the guard rail. One of his metal hair sticks fell out, toppling into the creek below as strands of his cedar hair fell in loose strands. For a moment the blacks of his eyes seemed like infinite inkwells before they returned to normal, a violet tinge appearing at the backs of his cheeks before the flesh returned to normal.

With reluctance, Tychon pulled his fangs from the human's neck, licking the blood clean until only two faintly purple pinpricks remained. Tychon grunted a little, straightening Yale back upright, gazing back into his eyes. Yale's jaw fell open again as he fell deep under the trance. Tychon looked down at the fallen cup before he pressed his own cup of punch into the artist's hand. Licking his lips a little, Tychon's features slowly ebbed back to human - apart from his eyes. He reached a hand up to pet Yale's soft cheek.

"Tonight was a turning point for you." Tychon said.

"Tonight was a turning point for me." Yale repeated.

"One cannot live in fear and doubt. It is time to strike like a cobra. Show this Deo that he is destined to be with you, celebrate the first night of your new lives together, and shed the shackles of your former self..." Tychon whispered. Seemingly satisfied, the Naga moved back toward the party, a slight smirk crossing his lips as he looked at the broken Keeper sigil that had been traced in chalk onto the frame of the mill's doorway.

Yale's vision remained hazy for a few moments after he had been left behind, the black and silver of Tychon's eyes replaced with the black night sky and the silver of the moon. The lethargy drained from Yale's body and he rose back upright under his own power. He looked around for Tychon but saw no one before glancing down at his drink. He felt a little sheepish that he'd drifted off in thought in the middle of a conversation, no wonder Tychon went back to the party... but the fresh air had done him some good and let him clear his mind. Sure, there was risk in being with Deo, but if he didn't at least try, he'd never know what could have been. Yale tipped his drink back, draining the punch with confidence before he started heading back to the party, using his free hand to reach up and rub at the sore spot on his neck.

****

The repetitious electronic dance music had brought an even level to the gathering, encouraging the guests to bunch together for conversations or to indulge in the refreshments. The lights had shifted colors to oranges and yellows, casting off a feeling of autumn on the silver streamers. The air had steadily been growing thicker with a cornucopia of scents; sweat, musk, anxiety, reverie, and a building volume of precum. The aromas rose on the warm air currents to Beck Barlowe's nostrils as he wove his way fluidly through the party, standing half a head taller than any of the other guests. He maneuvered past a particularly tight cluster of fraternity wolves, his long thin arm snaking its way down to snag an entire plate of hors d'oeuvres from the snack table before lifting it skyward as if it was his Liberty torch.

The aesthetic was furthered by the fact that Beck was the most under-dressed individual at the party. He wore only an orange tank top that showed off his boney shoulders and smooth arms and saggy brown corduroy pants. The only concession to the formality of the party was that he had opted to wear skate shoes instead of open toed sandals. Keen greenish gold eyes peered out from behind rose tinted circular glasses, his tongue playing with the pointed tip of one of his fangs. Two dusty brown tails hung down from the back of his pants, the black tips brushing the legs of the people he squeezed past.

Beck slowed at one moment as he caught rapid jerking movement by one of the tables. One of Grand Mesa's more prestigious football players had unleashed quite a bit of his wolf side, a furiously red canine shaped cock being worked over by a paw-padded, clawed hand... but it wasn't his own. A bespectacled green haired geek was on his knees, half hidden by one of the speakers, drooling into his rapidly growing bushy blond beard before he plunged his mouth around the jock's dick. No longer occupied with someone else's, the geek's clawed hand dropped down to nurse his own, rather impressively large doggy dick. Beck tipped his snack tray in a mock salute to the football player before meandering his way over to the chair Rodrigo was sitting at.

"Snacks for my snack." Beck said, lowering himself down. Rodrigo smiled, snatching one of the intricately layered sausage and cheese treats, popping it into his mouth.

"I hope you're not bored after bringing me here." Rigo apologized. Beck shook his head.

"Actually I think you were right. I'm glad we came. I am, after all, a social moth, drawn to the light and the activity, fluttering on the breeze of the movers and shakers of this world." Beck grinned. Rigo chuckled, a bit relieved that he wasn't wincing when he laughed as he had been earlier with his injury.

"And you're not worried about how the invitation was delivered?" Rigo asked. Beck looked around at all the werewolves, then at Marco and his pack before looking back at his date and grinning.

"Totally theatrics." Beck commented, "Someone trying to put on a show, not realizing my instincts might take issue with a disruption to the laws of physics. It could have happened to any were." Beck said before popping two of the treats in his mouth. As he chewed them, he leaned back, his long braids sinking almost all the way to the seat of the chair. As he savored the meat and cheese, a dark pigment spread out from around his eyes, curving down his cheeks. Brown and black fur sprouted across the backs of his ears as they stretched into points, growing taller and wider. There was even the faint prickling of his cheeks before clear whiskers began pushing out.

"You are one handsome beast." Rigo said, sighing as he rested his chin on his hand. Beck looked back at his date, lowering his colored glasses to make eye contact with him.

"Just say the word, babe, I'll make you a fox like me." Beck offered. Rigo smiled at that, taking a breath.

"That's very sweet mi amor, and I want to take you up on it, I just..." Rigo trailed off, his warm brown eyes scanning the room before settling on where Marco sat, laughing with enough mirth that his small belly jiggled beneath his suit, Artyom on one arm and Fletcher on the other. His beard was so full, his wheat colored skin betraying dark rings around his eyes. Beck followed his boyfriend's gaze. Rigo nearly jumped out of his seat as Beck leaned over conspiratorially as if they were sharing a deep, dark secret.

"But you miss having the beach balls? The dynamic dick? The fantastic fall flow?" he murmured. Rigo blushed furiously. Beck leaned back in his seat, giving a generous shrug, "I can't say that I don't miss it too. Being inside of you in that way? Feeling that rush against me? Getting so messy and sloppy, knowing I'd never be the same after tasting your 'nuki dip?" Beck said softly. Rigo looked almost flabbergasted.

"Are you saying I should?" he asked. Beck clicked his tongue against his teeth.

"I'm agreeing with you, babe. I can read it all over that face of yours. You want it back, and I don't want anything to stop you. So, what's the hold up? What aren't you telling me?" Beck asked. Rigo licked his lips, trying to whet them again, only momentarily distracted by the fact that he'd been getting chapped lips a lot more as a human.

"Tanuki are not like werewolves. Our gift isn't passed on from some trivial bite or unprotected sex. It requires more, a bit of magic. It's usually pretty... intimate. I know Marco said he'd give me back the powers eventually, but I don't think he knows what's involved." Rigo said. Beck stretched out one long arm, draping it over Rigo's shoulder.

"You see, my most endearing bae, that is the brilliance of being a college student. He is here to learn. We'll just teach him what he needs to know. My goal is nothing short of your complete satisfaction." Beck said. Rigo gave a soft chuckle.

"You are so peculiar." Rigo said before he leaned in to kiss Beck, their lips brushing before they parted. Their tongues teased one another, slipping back and forth and wrestling a bit before they broke.

"Speaking of which, I saw the quarterback trying a fun new party game over there. Maybe we should give it a go..." Beck whispered, his hand slipping down to start unzipping Rigo's pants beneath the table. Rigo gasped in surprise, though the smile that blossomed on his lips indicated he wasn't going to put up a fight.

****

"My powers are not some party trick..." Marco said, feeling a warmth of embarrassment in his cheeks. Duncan all but purred at that.

"It's a lot more than that, I can assure you." he said. Marco grinned, reaching out to pet Duncan's bushy brown beard.

"You just want to play daddy again." Marco said. Duncan only grinned, unable to deny it.

"They do say most students use college as a chance to redefine themselves. It has certainly had a transformative effect on all of us." Fletcher said, an obnoxious slurping sound coming as he used his straw to chase down the last drops of syrup at the bottom of his shaved ice. Yom smiled warmly, looking into Marco's eyes.

"You have continued to grow more and more handsome." he said with love.

"Okay, most of us have transformed. Some of us are the same horn dogs they were when they got here." Fletcher amended, though he gasped as Udo leaned over to give him a playful bite on the neck.

"Play nice." Udo warned, though his pointed ears quirked as the fast paced music faded into something a bit slower and more sonorous. Udo stood up and stretched as the lights around them turned to blue and silver, brushing his blond hair from his face before he offered his hand to Duncan, "Care to dance with me?" he asked. Duncan's eyes shifted to a warm glinting gold as he nodded eagerly, rising to his feet.

Marco watched Duncan's tail wagging as he followed the blond wolf out to the dance floor. He felt a bit of a pang of guilt at not having suggested such a thing. They had come to the party with doubt and mistrust, but so far everything had been running smoothly. In fact, the amount of relief in the room was palpable. Everyone had been living in such fear that a release had done them all good. Yom opened his mouth to say something but hesitated as Fletcher slid closer to Marco and leaned into his ear.

"Hey, you want to do what the Romans do since we're in Rome?" Fletcher asked with a soft grin.

"I... don't think that's exactly how that saying goes, but sure." Marco smirked. He slid out of his chair and set it back, giving Fletcher an easier way out from the back of the table. The two of them headed toward the dance floor, having an easier time navigating due to the slower music.

Yom's mouth slowly closed, recapturing the words left unspoken. He sagged a little lower in his seat, one hand drifting to the pocket that held a metal ring secreted away. It had been a foolish idea. This was hardly the time or the place, and for all he knew Marco would say no. In fact, as he saw Marco take Fletcher's hand in one of his own, the other going to Fletcher's back, Yom felt as if he had lost yet again... but that wasn't the way a pack was built, he knew he was being crazy.

Yom closed his eyes and breathed slowly, bringing back that acrid metal tang of blood in his memories. It had been his own blood, the blood of a direwolf trying to tear its way out. It had been unceremonious, a loss of his senses, a loss of his identity, all over a college crush... but Marco was so much more than that! Marco was his Alpha, his lover, his mate. Sure, he had a pack, sure Duncan had even squeezed his way in, and sure... there was an undeniable bond with Fletcher... Where exactly had he been going with his thoughts?

"You look like you could use a drink, though the hardest stuff I could get my hands on was Mountain Dew Code Red." Another voice commented. Yom opened his eyes to see Dathan, though his eyes were an even rustier shade of red than his frizzy hair. As Dathan sipped from the beverage, Yom studied the vampire's fangs, the faint fuzz growing out from the back of his pointed ears and the way his skin had seemed to pale in the moonlight.

"What do you want?" Yom asked. Dathan arched one eyebrow.

"Harsh." Dathan replied, "I figured you looked like you could use some company."

"I have my pack." Yom replied. Dathan spun on one heel, looking at Marco and Fletcher dancing on one side and Udo and Duncan on the other. Dathan turned back to Yom and sipped his drink. Yom growled slightly, his eyes flecking with gold.

"Mhm-hmm." Dathan mused before wandering away from Yom, meandering among the other guests. Yom closed his eyes again and practiced his breathing, focusing on the memories of when Marco had brought him back to himself, when they had defeated Demeas and tasted an elevated existence, and when he'd given Fletcher the beanie that smelled like him. Fletcher actually started to grin a bit when he thought of how often Fletcher smelled like him now. The runt did take his cock like a champ after all, and Yom had found that Fletcher's tenacity and persistence felt like an equal form of strength that made him a fine mate. He wasn't even the delicate play thing he had started as, but an equal part of the pack, an equal partner...

Yom reached up to stroke his beard in thought, looking at Fletcher and Marco dancing. The idea of one true love was a human trapping. Certainly it had been one that many of his own family had fallen into, but Yom was not a human. He had been born as a werewolf and the visit to the blood moonstone cave had proven that. Maybe he wasn't destined to be Marco's legally wed husband, but there were plenty of werewolf ceremonies that would bind them in matrimony. Perhaps it was not a ring he would put on Mrco's finger, but a leather cord he would wind around his wrist. One way or another, he was going to make sure Marco knew he had Yom's heart for eternity.

"Alright, alright! Wolves of GMU, it's time to give me a howl!!!" The DJ shouted. Two thirds of the room raised their heads and let out a sonorous tone. The DJ grinned a fang gilled grin, his eyes glinting a bright gold, "And let me hear the bat boys squeak!"

"Fuck you too, Steve!" Dathan said, raising his cup. The DJ laughed at that, his clawed hand drifting over his laptop.

"It's time to get busy! The night is young and the meat is fresh!" The DJ exclaimed. The many bodies on the dance floor started to bounce and grin as the music picked up tempo again, but Marco remained where he was, holding Fletcher for a long moment. Fletcher was smiling ear to ear, his head resting on Marco's chest, the larger man's beard acting as a rough pillow. Fletcher nuzzled against Marco's pectoral a little before he sighed with contentment and looked up at his boyfriend.

"That was nice." Fletcher said. Marco nodded at that, reluctantly moving as people started to bump and jostle into them.

"I guess I know what kind of party I've been craving." Marco said.

"Now the big question is, are Tanuki as omnivorous as their raccoon dog cousins? What shall we gorge ourselves on?" Fletcher asked. Marco smirked at that, following Fletch's fancy free trains of thought as always. He'd made it almost all of the way to the snack table when a figure stepped out between them. Tobin towered over most of the party guests thanks to his growth, his suit a little tight over his fit physique. It was hard to imagine how much he'd sprouted since he'd been Silas's roommate freshman year.

"Hey, uh, Marco, I was wondering if we could talk for a minute." Tobin asked. Marco gave a nod, gesturing off to one corner away from some of the speakers. Tobin smiled a little gratefully, leading the way, although he looked over his shoulder to watch Marco as they walked, "I wanted to kind of apologize for how this semester's been." he said sheepishly.

"I haven't gotten too many kind-of apologies." Marco said. Tobin reached up to scratch behind one of his furry pointed ears.

"I guess I deserve that." he said, "I didn't mean to really ghost you or ignore you or anything." Tobin said before sighing, "Well, I guess I did in a way. You... cast a pretty long shadow. I knew that if we interacted a lot, people would be constantly judging me in comparison to you. The twins had just stepped down and campus alpha just sort of fell in my lap. I guess you remember that it's a lot." Tobin said. Marco laughed at that and nodded.

"Oh yeah. That's a lot of personalities to manage." Marco said, "If it's any consolation, you're far from the worst campus alpha I've worked with." Marco said. Tobin nodded, licking his lips a little.

"Seamus, yeah. He was the alpha when I first got here. We didn't overlap for very long though, before you... uh, ousted him." Tobin said. Marco smiled a little more.

"Is that what you worried I would do to you?" Marco asked.

"I mean, honestly?" Tobin asked, "I think I was a bit cocky at first, but then when you got powers again, I might have gotten a bit shook." Tobin said. Marco shook his head.

"I'm not going to come for your position, I'm not going to try and run things... but I do have one ask. Treat your pack with respect and care. Treat all of them like your brothers or your lovers. Don't take unnecessary risks that could lead to pain you are unable to carry." Marco said. Tobin nodded a bit at that, looking reassured.

"You really think I can do this?" Tobin asked. Marco smiled a bit, his smile growing as an idea occurred to him.

"There was a point before I challenged Seamus where I saw a potential future of mine. It helped to guide me. I may not be a werewolf anymore, but I remember the customs." Marco said, moving a bit closer to Tobin, "Do you want to see what kind of alpha you'd be if you rise to the standards I left?" Marco asked.

"Y-yeah..." Tobin said, not sure exactly what Marco meant. Marco grinned and leaned in, bringing his lips to the Alpha's. Tobin inhaled a bit, though his entire body began to shiver as if a crisp fall breeze had whipped against his naked skin, making him feel as invigorated as a dip into a chilly pool. The bare skin on the alpha's upper lip bristled as stubble burst forth, growing from sharp to blunt in moments as it thickened and darkened, crashing over the edge of his lip before meshing with Marco's own mustache. The dense black hair he'd been growing out from his chin began to descend further, unspooling from his face an inch at a time. The werewolf's suit began to groan and stretch, seams splitting and popping. As the suit came apart, a mountain range of muscles emerged from beneath, forged in rich ebony skin.

Tobin growled into the kiss, reaching up to grab Marco's head with a hand that was larger than it had ever been before. The ivory fingernails darkened to brown, then black as they stretched out... and out... and out. They weren't just claws, they were wickedly long and incredibly dangerous, matching the twisted curls that were lengthening from his scalp, falling over the sharply groomed sides.

Murmurs began to build from the crowd as they watched the former campus Alpha kissing the current one and the effect it seemed to be having. Furry pointed wolf ears worked their way up through Tobin's dark hair before they popped up from the top of his head, his luxuriously black wolf tail unfurling from his pants, growing so full and long that the tip brushed the floor. Stitches popped and snapped before his shoes all but exploded, revealing dark feet that stretched longer, wider and taller.

Tobin held Marco in the kiss, making out with him, an incredibly thick, long, slippery tongue punching in and out of the other man's lips. He snarled in lust and longing, pressing his groin against the other man's before freezing in place, gasping. Tobin was hung like a horse, the biggest of the campus pack, but the cock and balls he'd found with his own cock had been enormous. Eyes the color of fresh honey looked down, realizing only then just how big the pouch in Marco's pants was to accommodate his package... and he realized only then that his bushy black beard was hanging down below his nipples.

"Oh, not bad if I do say so myself." Marco whispered, looking up at Tobin. Tobin blinked a few times, realizing he'd grown even taller as he'd gotten bigger, his muscles having shredded his suit. Tobin looked down at himself, then back at Marco.

"W... What is this?" he asked. Marco licked his lips a bit.

"Consider it an inauguration gift. I think you're ready to lead the campus pack for real, and if you work hard at it, this is what you could look like." Marco said, "I haven't exactly nailed it down to a fine science yet, you should have at least four hours to play around with it." Marco said, patting Tobin on the shoulder as he walked back over to Fletcher, looping his arm in his boyfriend's. Fletcher glanced back at Tobin before looking back at where they were going.

"You do realize he's going to fuck half a dozen of his betas, right?" Fletcher asked. Marco shrugged.

"Alpha's prerogative. It'll give him something to remember and aspire to." Marco said. As he returned to the table, Yom was staring across the room at Tobin dumbfounded while Duncan was nearly rolling out of his seat with laughter.

"Don't tell me we're adopting him too..." Yom groaned. Marco shook his head.

"No, no, that was just us making peace. That's what Alphas do, right? Some custom or something?" Marco asked as he settled back in his seat.

"No, I'm pretty sure they just spar for dominance usually..." Yom said.

"Didn't we meet an Alpha once that was good at dance fighting?" Udo asked.

"I'm just glad that we could help bring some life to the party. If this rally is the start to a new social life, we don't want to be wall flowers." Marco said, deciding to try the maple infused cheesecake square Fletcher had picked up from the desert table. As he popped it in his mouth and let it melt on his tongue, he sighed with contentment and leaned back, snuggling against Artyom. Yom's face seemed to light up as he wrapped a powerful arm around his Alpha, leaning in to kiss Marco's ear and then nuzzle his face into the side of his partner's beard. Marco murmured at that as well, glad to be close to all of his wonderful men.