(Fenrir's POV) Lewd: Part 2

[Fenrir]

The dýr finally left the room.

Fenrir could feel his own energy depleting quicker than usual, but he didn't want to call for that suspicious intern. What was his name, again? It didn't matter.

There was something off, yet powerful about the person. The others may not feel the hidden corruption, but he could. It's been a long time since he felt that type of spirit; before they entrapped him in this damned place, perhaps.

Over the past century, Fenrir has been feeling the inner wolf trying to break free. It was getting stronger by the day and always tried to escape the mental chains. Yet, the wild darkness was easier to manage ever since Sani brought that dýr. He still didn't know who sent him.

Each time the temporary servant delivered the meaningless meals, stopping his wolf from devouring every drop of its life was becoming more difficult.

*Eat him. Consume him.*

Fenrir could hear the wolf talk to him occasionally when it wanted something. He reminded himself that it was too risky.

*But you want it.*

That was true. He wanted to ravage that soul and get lost in its power. He wanted to wipe the rebelliousness from their eyes from when they first met. He wanted to rip apart—

BAM BAM BAM BAM.

Someone was banging against his door repeatedly. Who would dare? Fenrir didn't want to answer such impudence.

That's when he realized he accidentally summoned the dýr to return. Amid his dark thoughts, the wolf secretly called for him.

BAM BAM BAM.

The knocks became a little weaker. Fenrir heard a faint voice on the other side of the doors, "Help."

He sighed because he knew this was his fault. Double checking that he wasn't in his full wolf's form since it terrifies everyone, he walked over and opened the entrance.

"I don't need you here."

The sight before him was vulgar. The boy stumbled like he was drunk and had an erection with a wet spot dampening his pants. A line of spit dribbled from their mouth and lust filled his green-tinted eyes. Were they that color before?

"Master..."

When the dýr called out to him, a smell wafted in the air that made Fenrir's body respond. The scent was meant to attract males for mating. He was essentially a female in heat.

His wolf pulled tightly against the chains. The links were getting increasingly fragile.

He clutched the back of his obscene servant's neck and hauled him inside the office. There was a leather two-seated couch near the window, so he pushed the dýr on the loveseat's cushions. The smaller male was drowning in arousal and grasped onto the bottom of Fenrir's shirt, loosening it from his waist. This was the second intern who has attempted to lay a hand on him. It pissed him off.

"Why are you so indecent?" Fenrir said.

His reeking guest was trembling. It made his wolf peek in interest which caused his ears to tilt forward. When the boy looked up, his cheeks were red and pupils were dilated with desire. This wasn't the same defiant person he wanted to ruin earlier. It was something far worse.

Instead of answering the question, the servant's hand moved down to unzip Fenrir's pants. Although he could hear the canine growl in approval, he needed to know why a half-human was acting like a female wanting to be filled up. He roughly grabbed the hand that was trying to undress him, knowing his nails were digging into the skin.

"Again, why are you—"

Fenrir caught a glimpse of the mark he ingrained himself on the servant's wrist. It wasn't the dýr's fault. No one could've guessed this was what would occur. All of the servants he tried helping before always responded to his summons with some sort of pain.

The servant mumbled something.

"Louder," he commanded.

The prey below him gasped, "Take...responsibility...for making me...feel this…Master...please."

'Please' was said in a moan mixed with desperation. The sadistic alpha in him snapped at the sound.

"Vita." (Fine.)