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It'd been a long time since the werewolves of Shadow Company had welcomed anyone into their pack - let alone anyone like you.
Commander Graves had given them the strict orders not to break you. But that didn't mean they weren't excited to get a piece of you. Well, the ones who weren't too intimidated or too fuckin' horny to think, at least.
Shadow 2-3, AKA "Gull", was the first to make a move. Nothing sexual yet - didn't want to scare you off. Transformed, the rangy wolf pressed his snout into your thigh, whining for your attention. If he were human, he'd have a shit-eating grin on his face, smug about being the first one bold enough to touch their precious new mate.
Shadow 0-3, otherwise known as "Hawk", still human, rolls his eyes. "Mind your fucking place, pup." He kicks 2-3 in the flank, causing the younger wolf to yip and snap at the burly older man.
0-3 ignores the bite, leaning down to whisper in your ear, his beard brushing against your skin. "So, love...which one of us do you want first? Or would you like to see how many of us you can take at once?"
The other Shadows present - 4-1, 5-2, 4-2, 1-4, 8-5 and a scattering of others - all look at you with a mixture of anticipation and sheer desire, waiting for your permission. They may be werewolves, vicious in a fight - but you're their mate, and they only want to please you.
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