CHAPTER 28: CHAPTER 27. ALPHA’S RUT

Borgia’s Camping Ground, Dreadfang Mountain

Vivianne can hear a low growl from behind her, and Roxanne’s grip on her is becoming more possessive. Not only that, but she can smell her wife’s pheromone getting stronger and the other alpha growing restless around.

She then held Roxanne’s hand gently. "it’s your rut, isn’t it?"

"This is humiliation." Roxanne said as she gritted her teeth, trying to hold herself.

Roxanne’s breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling with a primal rhythm as the heat of her rut surged through her veins. The once subtle glow in her crimson eyes deepened into a searing, blood-red blaze, casting an unholy light across her face.

A sharp crack resounded in the air; her horns began to grow, curling higher and sharper, twisting like obsidian blades. Dark veins of demonic energy pulsed beneath their surface, humming with raw power. The air around her thickened, vibrating with the oppressive weight of her aura.

Her black wings unfurled from her back in a violent rush, feathers as dark as the void, edges shimmering like sharpened steel. They spread wide, blotting out the moonlight as if to claim the night sky itself. A low growl rumbled from her throat, echoing like the snarl of some ancient beast.

"Oh..." Vivianne breathed softly, her voice trembling with wonder rather than fear.

She doesn’t feel afraid of the transformation happening before her eyes, even as Roxanne’s form becomes more and more demonic. Instead, she felt an odd mix of fascination and excitement that made her heart pound wildly in her chest.

There’s no terror in her gaze, only awe, desire, and something far more dangerous. Roxanne didn’t look frightening to her. No, she looked irresistible, powerful, and alluring, like a challenge Vivianne desperately wanted to claim.

"I’m going insane," Vivianne thought, battling with the rush of heat and wicked thoughts flooding her mind. Her lips curled into the faintest, nervous smile as she tried to keep her composure.

"What?" Roxanne asked softly. Despite her body now appearing far less human and more like a powerful demonic being, her voice remained as gentle and tender as always, filled with nothing but love and concern for her wife. The contrast made Vivianne’s breath hitch, her pulse racing even faster.

"Okay, let’s go," Vivianne said suddenly, her decision made. She stood quickly and grabbed Roxanne’s hand, her smaller fingers wrapping tightly around her wife’s much larger, claw-tipped ones.

Roxanne allowed herself to be pulled along, though she’s still fighting a fierce internal battle to stay in control of her instincts. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, her breathing uneven as her rut began to gnaw at her restraint.

As she followed Vivianne, she noticed her omega lean toward the air and whisper softly, speaking words only the spirits could hear. The translucent shapes of the mountain spirits swirled around them, their expressions filled with concern and warning. But Vivianne only offered them a reassuring smile and whispered something that made them reluctantly relent.

A moment later, the spirits began circling their tent in a shimmering silver spiral, weaving an invisible barrier. A hum filled the air, subtle but powerful, and then, silence. The world outside faded away completely.

"You can make me scream," Vivianne said with a soft, daring smile, her voice sweet and filled with unshakable trust, "and no one will hear."

Roxanne froze, her entire body reacting at once. A guttural sound escaped her throat as a fresh wave of heat rolled through her. "Dear demon lord..." she muttered under her breath, her control slipping further with every heartbeat.

Her body began to change even more drastically. Roxanne’s form grew taller, her muscles tightening as her frame became more imposing. The black horns crowning her head curved upward with a sharp, regal elegance, while her black-feathered wings unfurled behind her with a rustling sound, brushing against the tent’s fabric.

Her silhouette is no longer that of a mere woman but of a creature born of power and hunger, radiating both danger and a beauty so intense it was almost unbearable.

When they finally stepped into the tent, the space felt warm and intimate, a stark contrast to the bitter cold of the Dreadfang Mountain night. Dozens of candles flickered softly around the edges, their golden light casting dancing shadows on the walls. The glow made the interior feel like a private sanctuary, sealed off from the world.

At the center rested a large, low bed laid directly on the earth, piled high with monster pelts. The furs were thick and luxurious, dark and pale colors blending together like waves of untamed wilderness.

The tent radiated heat, offering a perfect haven from the freezing winds outside. The surrounding air carried the rugged scents of leather, steel, and woodsmoke, mingling with the sweet wax of the burning candles.

But the moment Roxanne and Vivianne entered, a different scent overpowered everything. Vivianne’s intoxicatingly sweet omega pheromones filled the air, swirling together with Roxanne’s fresh, minty, and sharply dominant alpha scent. The blend was dizzying, primal, and almost suffocating in its intensity.

Vivianne’s breath caught as she turned to face her wife fully. She gulped, her throat dry, her cheeks flushed. Roxanne’s demonized form now towered over her, her body far larger and more powerful than before. She isn’t just taller; her entire frame has changed, now as big as a male alpha werewolf, just like the female warrior, big, hard, and irresistible, her strength radiating from every inch of her.

Her gaze is helplessly drawn downward. Her breath hitched sharply when she saw the obvious, straining bulge beneath Roxanne’s riding leathers, now far larger and more intimidating than she had ever seen before.

"Oh lord..." Vivianne whispered, biting her lower lip as heat surged through her body. "Can I even... take that?" Her voice was half in awe, half in desire, her thighs pressing together instinctively as her scent grew sweeter.

Roxanne growled low in her throat, her claws flexing at her sides as she fought to keep control. "Sweetheart," she rasped, her voice deep and strained, "I... I can drink the inhibitor." She forced the words out, desperate to protect Vivianne, even as her instincts screamed at her to mate with her omega completely.

"No," Vivianne breathed, her cheeks flushed, her voice trembling with both desire and defiance. "Don’t you dare take that inhibitor."

Roxanne’s crimson eyes flared, the glow intensifying as a deep, guttural sound rumbled in her chest, half growl, half plea. Her wings twitched, the tips brushing the tent walls, while her claws flexed at her sides, digging slightly into the furs beneath them to keep herself grounded.

Vivianne stepped closer, emboldened, her scent growing sweeter and more intoxicating. "You think I’m afraid of you like this?" she whispered, tilting her chin up. "You’re my wife, Roxanne. My Alpha. I, Vivianne de Borgia, want all of you."

That declaration broke whatever fragile restraint Roxanne had been clinging to. Her breathing turned ragged, and her body shifted again, muscles tightening further, the dark armor-like texture of her demonic skin glinting in the warm light. She loomed over Vivianne, and yet her hands trembled as they hovered near her omega’s waist, afraid to hurt her.

"No," Vivianne said firmly, her voice laced with need. "Don’t hold back. Not tonight."

Those words were the final push. Roxanne’s restraint shattered like fragile glass, and she pulled Vivianne into her arms with a guttural growl, her wings wrapping around them like a cocoon.

Roxanne’s hands were everywhere at once, rough yet reverent, as if she couldn’t decide whether to worship Vivianne or devour her. The leather of her riding gear creaked with the tension of her restraint finally snapping, her arousal thick and heavy between them.

"You will take it," Roxanne growled against Vivianne’s throat, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh where her mark on Vivianne’s neck is visible.

Vivianne whimpered, her body arching instinctively as Roxanne’s palm slid between her thighs, finding her already soaked. A ragged moan tore from her lips at the first possessive stroke of Roxanne’s fingers, her Omega instincts surging in response to her Alpha’s dominance.

"Wife, please..." Her breath was ragged, especially after she felt that her wife’s shaft was bigger than usual.

The curse melted into a gasp as Roxanne lifted her effortlessly, pressing her back against the bed, their bodies slotting together in a way that made Vivianne’s vision blur.

"Take my clothes off." Vivianne’s plea is a breathless whimper, her fingers trembling against Roxanne’s leathers. The scent of her arousal, honeyed and thick with submission, filled the tent, mingling with the smoky musk of Roxanne’s demonic skin.

Roxanne’s growl is a dark promise as she obeys, tearing away fabric with rough urgency. The moment Vivianne was lying bare naked on their bed, Roxanne dragged her tongue up the column of her throat, tasting salt and the sweet, intoxicating tang of her Omega’s need.

"Lord, you smell divine," Roxanne rasped, her breath scorching against Vivianne’s ear. "Like ripe fruit begging to be bitten."

Vivianne shuddered, her skin pebbling under Roxanne’s touch, the rough demon’s hands mapping her curves, fingers trailing into the soft flesh of her hips hard enough to bruise. The contrast is maddening: the searing heat of Roxanne’s body against her own, the cool mountain air kissing her bare skin, and the rough furs beneath her back.

Then Roxanne pulled back, letting Vivianne see her, every inch of her demonified form glistening in the dim torchlight, her usual pale skin mixed with black skin like polished onyx stretched over coiled muscle. The air between them crackled with the scent of burning embers and something darker, hungrier, Roxanne’s Alpha pheromones thick enough to choke on.

Vivianne’s fingers traced the ridges of her wife’s abdomen, down to the throbbing length between her thighs. The moment she touched it, Roxanne’s breath hitched, a rare, uncontrolled sound. Precum beaded at the tip, glistening and so warm against Vivianne’s fingertips.

"Look at you," Roxanne murmured, her voice rough as gravel. "Touching me like you’ve been starving for it."

Vivianne whimpered, her own slick painting her thighs as she spread them wider. "I have," she admitted, her voice breaking. "Please—please, I need—" But Roxanne didn’t make her finish.

With a possessive snarl, she pinned Vivianne’s wrists again, her claws pricking just enough to sting. The first press of her hard shaft against Vivianne’s dripping heat core is a blissful torture, a slow, burning stretch that steals the breath from both their lungs.

"You’re always so tight," Roxanne groaned, her forehead dropping to Vivianne’s shoulder as she pushed deeper. The heat of her is overwhelming, the way Vivianne’s body clenched around her, adjusting.

Roxanne can feel Vivianne’s nails scrape down her hard back, her moan ragged. "More—God, wife, move—faster." And Roxanne obeyed.

A brutal, deep thrust, and Vivianne’s scream shattered the night. Roxanne didn’t stop.

The moment Vivianne’s scream tore through the tent, Roxanne’s instincts snapped. She dug her claws into Vivianne’s hips, holding her still as she pounded into her with feral, unrelenting force. Each thrust bottomed out, the thick ridge of her cock dragging viciously against Vivianne’s walls, forcing another choked gasp from her lips.

"Take it," Roxanne snarled, her voice rough with barely restrained violence. The bedroll beneath them shifted, slick with Vivianne’s desperation, the sound of skin slapping skin filthy, obscene, drowning out everything but their mingled panting.

Vivianne’s body arched wildly, her nails raking down Roxanne’s back. It didn’t do anything to her thick demon skin, but it only spurred Roxanne on; her thrusts grew harder and deeper, her knot already swelling at the base, threatening to lock them together.

"You’re mine; you’re Vivianne de Borgia, mine, my wife." Roxanne growled, her teeth sinking into Vivianne’s shoulder as she chased her own rabid pleasure.

"Yes! I’m yours!" The sensation is overwhelming; it’s blinding.

Vivianne sobbed, her thighs shaking, her cunt clenching in frantic, helpless spasms around Roxanne’s cock. "Alpha—please—I can’t—!"

But Roxanne wouldn’t let her escape. She wrapped a hand around Vivianne’s throat, not to choke but to claim, her grip just tight enough to make Vivianne’s pulse hammer against her palm.

"You’ll take it," Roxanne hissed, her breath scorching against Vivianne’s ear. "Every. Last. Inch." And then she seized Vivianne’s hips, lifting her just enough to drive into her at a brutal new angle.

Vivianne screamed again, her body snapping taut as another orgasm ripped through her, her heated, messy core squeezing Roxanne’s shaft like a vise. She pulls Roxanne closer to her and kisses her lips in the sloppiest way possible while she keeps getting pounded by her alpha wife.

Roxanne’s control shattered. With a roar, she slammed home one final time, her knot forcing its way inside, locking them together as she pumped Vivianne full, her release scorching, endless, flooding Vivianne’s trembling body.