4. Evan
Chapter four
Evan
E van never saw it coming.
One second, he was running—pushing himself harder than he ever had, his body screaming for mercy—and the next, he was slammed to the forest floor with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs.
The impact rattled his bones, and a cry tore from his throat as pain flared in his chest. His muscles burned, the fire of exhaustion licking at his insides, but it didn’t matter.
It was too late.
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn't think. The weight of the creature pressing him into the damp earth was crushing. Clawed hands wrapped around his wrists, unyielding, impossibly strong, and Evan’s body jerked, straining against the grip, but it was like trying to fight against steel.
His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the racing thoughts in his mind. No. No, no, no... this can’t be happening.
He had volunteered for this, hadn’t he? To save Lila. To give himself up to this wild thing, to this hunt. But now, with the reality of it pressing down on him, the crushing fear— dread —swept through him like a cold wave. He was at the mercy of something far beyond his control.
His breath came in short, frantic gasps, the cold bite of panic swallowing him whole.
And then, through the blur of his fear, he finally looked up at the werewolf—
At him .
The werewolf was a powerful, broad-chested man, straddling Evan’s hips, pinning him down effortlessly. Even in his human form, the raw, primal energy radiating off him was almost suffocating. His eyes—dark, almost black with a feral intensity—burned into Evan, deep and unrelenting.
Evan’s breath hitched. He was gorgeous. Every inch of him, from the sharp, rugged jawline to the fierce curve of his shoulders, screamed strength.
But it wasn’t just his size, his muscles that held Evan in place. It was the way he owned the moment, like he’d been waiting for this.
Waiting for Evan.
Evan’s heart thudded erratically, and he hated himself for it.
The man’s hands, still gripping Evan’s wrists with terrifying strength, seemed to burn through the fabric of his shirt, and Evan shuddered involuntarily. His body was betraying him, his pulse quickening for reasons he couldn’t explain.
There was no way in hell this should feel anything but terrifying. But the heat from the man’s body, the raw power that radiated off him, sent a pulse of heat straight to Evan’s gut. His mind screamed for him to fight, to break free, but his body wasn’t cooperating.
“Please...” Evan’s voice came out a ragged whisper, a weak plea that hung in the air between them, but he didn’t know what he was asking for.
The man’s lips quirked up, an unreadable glint in his eyes. He leaned down slightly, and Evan felt the air around them thicken.
“You're mine,” the man murmured.
Evan’s pulse skipped. The words hit him harder than any blow could. Mine . He heard it, felt it, like a command meant just for him.
Evan’s mouth went dry, his heart hammering in his chest. No, no, this isn’t me. This isn’t what I—
He barely had a moment to register the shift in the air before the werewolf’s mouth was on him. Silas leaned down, his breath hot against Evan’s skin, and dragged his mouth along the curve of Evan’s neck in one slow, deliberate movement.
Scenting him.
Tasting him.
The intimate contact was electrifying. A wave of shuddering heat shot through Evan’s body, mixing with the sharp spike of fear that twisted in his gut. His pulse raced, hammering against his ribs as his mind struggled to make sense of the chaos. What the hell is happening?
All night, Evan had been slipping past the chaos—shadows twisting, bodies colliding in frantic, primal motion. Everywhere he turned, werewolves had been taking their fill, claiming their human prey in raw, brutal displays of dominance. He’d seen the way they mounted their chosen partners, rutting into them with unrelenting force, snarls and moans mixing in a haze of savage debauchery. It was pure instinct, pure hunger. No hesitation. No restraint.
But this was different.
This werewolf wasn't shoving him down, wasn’t taking him fast and rough like the others. He was looking at Evan. Holding him still, dragging out the moment like he had all the time in the world. As if Evan was something to be examined, not just used.
A shiver ran down his spine, sharp and unwelcome. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t what he'd prepared for.
You're mine, the werewolf had said—and it sounded like he meant it.
“I don’t belong to you,” Evan rasped, forcing the words through a dry throat. Even as he spoke, his voice trembled.
A low growl rumbled from the werewolf. But instead of pulling away, he took Evan’s jaw with rough, possessive strength. His fingers dug in, forcing Evan to look up and meet those dark eyes.
It felt like they were burying straight through him. It was as if the werewolf could see everything. All his secrets. Every fear. Every weakness.
“I'm Silas,” the werewolf’s voice rumbled, thick and deep, vibrating through Evan’s bones.
It took Evan a moment to figure out what he'd said. His name?
“E-Evan,” he managed, the sound leaving his lips shaky and breathless. He hated how fragile it sounded. Hated how small he felt in that moment.
Silas growled again, but this time it wasn’t menacing. It was… satisfied. A pleased sound.
And then, before Evan could react, Silas leaned back in and nipped at his jaw, teeth grazing his skin in a way that sent a shock of heat straight to Evan’s groin.
Evan couldn’t hold it back. A breathless whimper slipped past his lips, terrified. But that terror morphed into something else as Silas’ mouth moved lower, tracing the line of his throat.
A shudder wracked Evan’s frame, his body trembling beneath the weight of the werewolf. His mind was a mess—confusion, fear, heat, desire—all of it tangled up into a wild storm.
His body was betraying him, responding to the raw power that radiated off Silas. Focus, Evan. Focus. Get it together…
He tried to squirm, to fight back, but his muscles felt like they were made of paper. Silas’ weight kept him trapped beneath him, the werewolf’s strength a wall he couldn’t break through.
Then Silas did something that made Evan’s blood run hot. His hips shifted, and Evan gasped as the werewolf ground against him.
He was hard.
Jesus...
The heat from Silas’ body seared through Evan’s clothes, his arousal unmistakable against his own. Every inch of Evan’s body reacted, his skin burning where they touched, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might explode.
Evan’s hands shot up to Silas’ chest, uncertain if he was trying to push him away or pull him closer. His fingers fumbled against the hard, heated muscle, the sheer size of Silas overwhelming him.
This isn’t me. I don’t want this. But Evan’s body told a different story. It betrayed him in the most visceral way, responding with heat, with need. His pulse thudded in his veins, the pulse in his hardening cock a thumping rhythm that matched the erratic beat of his heart.
Evan's eyes darted frantically around the dark forest, searching for an escape route, but Silas' strength and weight held him firmly in place.
He knew what a werewolf wanted from a human tonight. There was no way out of it.
But maybe there was a way to… delay it.
Evan’s breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as his mind raced. Silas was already hard— achingly hard. Evan could feel the thick, throbbing heat pressing insistently against him, straining, eager.
His stomach clenched. If he played this right, if he gave Silas something… maybe he wouldn’t have to take everything. Maybe he could get Silas off, let him spill his release elsewhere, and spare himself from the brutal stretch of that monster cock.
It was a risk. A gamble.
But it was the only chance he had.
With a hard swallow, Evan, trembling, mustered the courage to reach down and wrap his fingers around Silas’ throbbing cock.