1134 word count as of 07/23/21

"Let me guess, they confuse demonstrative with territorial."

"How did you know?"

"That room your father and you hated so much? That was my father's office. I tore it apart when the will was read to me. It restricts my access to my inheritance until I marry. So, I'm capable of demonstrating how pissed I am about something, but I've never had a reason to be territorial before. I assume I have to be?"

She rubbed the scar she gave me. Just that one finger was so reminiscent of her hand around my cock. Instant hard-on. My gums itched badly. The urge to bite her was just as bad as last time, and I wasn't even inside her.

"That's not a have to. That's a need to. You're human, but you've got some ancestral line that is begging to get out and claim me all over again. Your rudimentary wolf desires to sink your canines into the meat of my shoulder or neck, somewhere it can be displayed and dare anyone to touch what's yours and receive the full consequences of your wrath. I know this because my wolf is demanding the same...You do know I'm healed and can take it as rough as you're capable of giving me."

I gave out a strangled cry of frustration as what little control I ever had snapped. The expression of my desire was frantically displayed until we bit each other through our climax. She retracted herself from the bite, but I couldn't. Not that I tried, and at that moment I was grateful for the tricks I learned over the years, and kept moving even at half-mast breathing slowly--sometimes I caught a 2nd erection right after the 1st. This time it took so long that my jaw was killing me, but we eventually found our ending again. Then time my teeth let go. Thank God.

"Wow, I didn't expect a human to do all that..."

"Experienced. Training increases productivity in any field. That and its really the only thing I've done with my life."

"How many?"

"The entirety of my sex life, starting around the age of 15? I averaged damn near a new partner every day, so I'd say a minimum of 4500?"

This time it was her that gave out a strangled cry, but where mine was frustration, hers was rage. "I cannot hide that many kills!"

I just laughed. "I doubt they're jealous, as I've never had a repeat, that I can remember. Surely they would have tried again if they wanted me."

"You're human. Getting attached without a damn good reason is a liability. Believe me, some were interested because I've pulled up your record at the club."

"So they really were keeping tabs on me."

"They've stopped quite a few from stalking you. You're surprisingly in demand, and treated like a bonus, not a staple member of their slaves."

That startled me. "Slaves?"

"Indentured servants who sold themselves into that debt--never more than 10 years service, and the contract is annulled if they find their mate. It's still illegal slavery in the US."

"So...you were there looking for a mate?"

"A chosen one, since the odds of finding another natural one were abysmal odds. And I would have kept a were who knew the game with me during that first transition where my body was reborn."

"The week I felt like I had Covid?" I nodded to myself for that. "So, you know my name. I heard them call you queen...is that your name?"

She laughed at me again. "No, that's technically my title. Alice is my name. An Alpha of Alphas is technically a King or Queen. I and my ancestors before me run Los Angeles' were society. There's over 5000 weres, pack or lost, in the city proper, and a couple thousand more in the areas not quite claimed as Los Angeles, but definitely satellite communities. That's 4 regular packs and dozens of warpacks, and a smattering of those stuck in between."

My shoulders sagged with relief, when I finally caught up with the implications. "Good, that means I don't have to run my estate because you know how to."

"Really? You don't want to?"

"I never have. I watched both my parents pay for their hubris, and have no interest in ruining it all."

"How much?"

"Oh, it's got to be worth roughly 640 million right now. A good 6th of that is in properties, half in a couple businesses, the rest in stocks, bonds, other hard assets. I was probably just shy of being a billionaire before Covid." My parents really lived downscale from their true status, with this house. No wonder I was a spoiled rich boy.

She thought about it for a second. "I should be able to handle that."

If there was any doubts for me, this ended them. I wanted a woman who could handle my affairs. Father wanted me to become a man, head of my own household, if you will. But I couldn't be ruler of my own home, and it gave me quite a bit of satisfaction to know I could never fulfill the intent of his will, but would meet the technical requirements.

Honestly, that probably drove me to be an aging man-whore in the first place.

~~~

And here comes my wedding day. We only delayed it to get were formalities out the way--public display of me being her mate. The only thing I have stalled beyond this is this thing she calls "turning". Technically, as a human with a dormant wolf, it would be more of an awakening, but these people don't come to me to make up their little terms for everything.

Anyway, it holds a lot of risks, as I'll be 31 in a few days, but I am at peace. If I do pass away, my wife will inherit everything, and her territory becomes all the richer. I've lived a pleasant life, even managed to save someone's life as much as they're saving my own. What more could I ask for?

"Caesar, honey. I'm pregnant."

That's what my mate and bride whispered to me before I walked us down the aisle (we dumped as many traditions as we could, for this).

I smirked at her. "Is it too late to go back to being a man-whore?"

~~~

This is an excerpt from the biography of Caesar Vitas Pugh, consort to the Chairman of Los Angeles, Alice Nunez, which will be out next year, adapted as a standalone.

He successfully completed his turning, but was very disappointed that his wolf chose to be called Maurice--a common name to laid back men whose wolves are of the same inclination. He was hoping for Fido or Rex.