The Darkness We Hide

It wasn’t long before Richard’s enhanced hearing picked up the sounds of Michelle and Gareth coupling, the rapid breathing, panting, and moans of pleasure were unmistakable.

Richard seethed, picturing their bodies intertwined in sex. Giving in to his rage he ran into the night, terrorizing any human or animal he could find. Several stray dogs and cats met a vicious and bloody end that night, torn apart by his uncontrolled need to cause pain.

When he awoke the next morning, covered with the filth of the night before, he stumbled home, naked and cold, still angry, but feeling a little better after a night of blood and bones.

Standing under the hottest shower he could stand, he watched fascinated as the blood red and muddy brown water swirling down the drain, wishing to the gods that it was Gareth’s blood. Oh, how wonderful that would be, to have the blood of that upstart Gareth draining away and Michelle at his side.

How could he have been so stupid to let her slip through his fingers? She was his.

The first time they met he’d sensed how special she was. Her aura glowed so brightly, he couldn’t believe he was the only one who could see it. Using his police connections, he’d run a background check on her and learned everything he could about the mysterious bartender.

She seemed like nothing special, an orphan since she was six, she’d moved to Seattle when she was eighteen and had worked at the bar ever since. There was nothing in her history that could explain her glow. He’d looked through the little lore he had access to, but also came up empty there too.

Using his research, he’d managed to insert himself into her life and eventually into her bed. She was amazing through and through, her kiss intoxicating, her body addictive.

It wasn’t long before his werewolf instincts kicked in and he felt the need to dominate her, to know where she was at all hours. She was his and no one was going to take her from him.

He’d planned for weeks how he would take her to his cabin in the forest and perform the ritual that would turn her and bind her to him for life, but she’d had the gall to try and leave him.

That night he’d been so angry at her betrayal he’d lost control and assaulted her, leading to his own arrest and that damned restraining order.

Now Gareth, the holier than thou alpha lycan, had marked her as his own and was even now enjoying her body.

Turning the water to its hottest he let it scorch his skin, relishing in the pain it caused. It was nothing compared to the pain he planned for Gareth when he finally got his hands on him.

When they met years ago, Richard had had his reservations. Gareth was a lycan while he was a simple werewolf. Though they were both creatures of myth and legend, lycan's tended to see themselves as far superior to all other races, even the fey. Just because they could control their shifts and commune with their inner beast better than werewolf's who were slaves to the moon. They could maintained a grasp of their humanity that most werewolves lost during the full moon.

He, himself, had spent years mediating and training to be able to have even the slightest bit of control of the animal within himself. He could call forth its abilities when needed, but the toll it took on his own body was extensive. For every ten minutes of augmented strength, stamina and ferocity, Richard would spend two hours recovering, his body ravaged by the unnatural use of the Goddess' gift.

His ability to do just this was what led to his conflict with Gareth when they were in the Corps. Richard had been so determined to make a name for himself, and he thought the Marine Corps would be the place to do it. He was stronger, faster, and smarter than the humans around him, but when the damn lycan showed up, none of that mattered.

Gareth had become the platoons golden boy, breezing through every obstacle course, written exam, fuck, the guy could clip the wings off a gnat at two hundred paces.

Despite his ability to best everyone in the entire class, everyone seemed to get along well with him, while Richard, who tried to be friendly, always seemed to find himself on the outside looking in.

Stepping out of the shower, Richard wiped the mirror clear of fog, looking over his naked body, admiring his muscular form. Thanks to his genetic makeup, he was blessed with an over abundance of muscles and a tanner complexion than normal men, but when compared next to Gareth, he felt insignificant.

"Damn," he yelled, smashing his fist into the offensive reflection.