Promised to a Gargoyle King but the Werewolf King wants us.

Chapter 4 - Welcome to Jurassic Park. Wait, wrong story?

"Welcome. To the Land of Wolves."

She had been kidding about the title. Apparently 'Werewolf King' wasn't. He held his hand out across the land and she stood there, tense, as his arm squeezed her a bit too close. Ew. Ew. The closer she got the more he smelt like wet dog. They were standing in a tower remarkably like the Gargoyle's tower, except this one had furs and skins lining it, making for one cosy weird smelling place. A fireplace with a fire was going in one part of the large round space and that would have been great if there wasn't a giant open window somewhere else. Didn't he know about how to keep a place warm?

Why did people find werewolves hot? They smelt like dogs, raw meat and blood, and it really made her stomach churn.

"Let go of me, please." She muttered, finally sliding sideways, trying to see beyond a heaving man-bosom. The Land of Wolves had to be on Earth, Kate hoped to Hades, but you wouldn't have thought it looking at it.

They stood in a tower on the edge of a cliff. It was cold, her breath kept creating a fog, and it felt like it was only early morning here. There were vast valleys and great hills, mountains to Kate's left, with hundreds of miles worth of forests, lakes and rivers. The ancient trees were so tall that they tickled and stood up above the low fog drifting through the valleys. It was beautiful- this silvery lake effect the clouds made between the mountains and hills- and it looked like a forest grew from the silvery fog itself.

She did like it. Kate couldn't deny that. This 'Land of Wolves' place was actually really beautiful, quiet, serene, and for a brief moment when she looked at Mr. Werewolf King, she just saw a man. A genuine man who really loved his land, who really did have feelings under those abs and that hot air, one who probably did fart and poo and shave like any other man. The wind teased his hair back, kind of crazy long hair that he tucked behind his ears, rubbing his ear as if the wind and hair tickled him, and although it was a 'pose' it was natural. Sort of.

This didn't last long, this image of him, because when he realised her eyes had fallen onto him the illusion shattered. He was back to hot air Mr. Werewolf King, chest puffed out, full on pose happening with his foot coming up to meet the bottom of the window, his hands on his hips, like this was some kind of ...puffy peacock contest.

Kate returned her attention to the beautiful land instead.

"Do you like it?"

"I do like natural things. Fake things just make me want to hurl." She muttered. If he knew that was a dig at him he didn't let that on. "What's your name anyway?"

"King of all Werewolves."

"Yeah, the other name. The one your mother gave you."

"Azaroth."

"I'm not calling you that." That was a ridiculous name.

"Well, my mother used to call me Zary." There it was again, the flicker of something that she might have seen as normal once, but it was gone so quickly. Kate gritted her teeth as Damien s bloody face slammed into her head. It didn't matter if he was a normal man under that pomp. He'd hit her boyfriend. He glanced at her. "In public though, Constance, you must call me Your Majesty until we're mated. Then you may call me Azaroth."

"Fine, whatever. Look. This kidnapping and sight seeing was fun and all but I'm really worried about Damien and-"

"What is he? Is he your lover?"

"He's my boyfriend, Zary." She wanted to yell and scream. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it. Kate half expected him to go psycho werewolf like in the movies.

"Not anymore. I'm marking and mating you." There was a flare of possessiveness. He stepped closer and the smell of a wet dog returned. "Constance. You will come with me and we shall have sex. I will create a mark upon your neck upon your height of pleas-."