Untamable [BXB]

01: wolves

*TW: attempted S/A, physical abuse*

Wolves have sharp teeth.

   They have keen claws, pointed ears, and piercing eyes. They have lean, powerful bodies built to withstand all forces of nature, with thick and flowing fur, and a matching, wooly tail. The image of a wolf is universal.

   But their most important feature is their teeth.

   People fear them for it. It's the only thing keeping them from succumbing to the idea of a cute animal and reaching a hand out to pet one. Wolves use their teeth to eat, to groom, to gnaw through the bone of their prey, and they use their teeth to defend themselves. It's common sense that if you were to provoke a wolf, you're likely to be met with teeth in your skin. It's a simple fact.

   Silas only defended himself.

   Yet, here he was; teeth being seized from the forearm they found themselves plunged within, and body cast heavily to the floor.

   The man had given a cry of pain— of course he did— any sensible person would, but what Silas found stupid was the fact that it was surprised. There was shock in that cry, upon biting into his flesh. And that was stupid.

   He had expected Silas to submit, like a good dog to his master. Like the omega he was. All alphas expected that. The idea of a disobedient omega was almost entirely unheard of. After all, from the moment they were born, they'd all been told they were lesser. The thought of defiance was one that seldom entered any omegas' mind, if at all. But of course, when Silas refused to follow the command of an alpha, and a hand yanked sharply at his blond hair— he reacted to defend himself.

   He twisted from the man's grasp, and bit down.

   And somehow... the man was surprised?

   Silas could still taste the metallic blood that was surely splattered across his lips, tongue dipping out to taste. Could imagine his pupils still contorted into thin black slits. Claws still extended. Blond ears still flat against his head in a sign that so obviously read "back away" like blaring warning lights.

   Hell, he could still feel the rumbling growl that settled deep in his throat ebbing away, his animal half clawing under his skin, as he laid flat on his back on the cold, hard floor.

   Silas had given all the warnings for a wolf ready to attack; but, for an alpha who only saw a weak, runt omega— he took none of those warnings into account.

Suddenly, a hand drags the omega up from the floor. The tight grip on his shoulder was bruising enough to pull him back to reality just in time for a set of knuckles to make contact with his cheekbone. The force causes his head to swing, and the world sways with it.

Silas clenches his teeth, yet he doesn't dare voice a cry. Even as he feels his lip split upon impact, even as the pain flares white hot under his skin, where a bruise will surely lay come morning. His body shuts down before it can register the next punch, desperate to block out the stimulation as a mechanical response he's felt many times before. Shock runs coldly through his veins to numb all feeling, muscles tingling beneath his skin— a voice that called on a sweet, soft, inviting tone— Let go.

Rest. I've got you, it coaxed. He felt, for a moment, as though he was observing the scene from outside his own body. Witnessing as he was beaten, yet, unfeeling to the pain. He was limp, expressionless, as punch after punch was thrown his way. He didn't feel it, just feels darkness embrace the edges of his blurring vision, nearly falling prey to the foreign voice he hears whisper alluringly in the distance, urging him to drop his defense, to retreat into the protective depth of his mind. No. He replies. Putting all his energy into his straining muscles, Silas writhes and kicks and pries at the grasp on him, but not once does he whimper in pain. Instead, Silas bears his fangs and he growls deeply, staring into the eyes of the man who holds him in place.