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It was a quiet afternoon. Mason loved running through the forest in his wolf form. Nothing gave him more freedom than feeling the damp earth under his paws and the wind through his fur. He was the king of the forest, strong, wild, free. Or at least, that’s what he thought… until he got home.
Because there, waiting for him in a pink apron covered with white hearts, was the true authority in his life: Kieran.
—Mason… I just cleaned here!—
The vampire exclaimed, appearing in the kitchen doorway with a spatula in one hand and a look that could freeze blood.
The apron had been a gift from Marcella, and although Kieran hated it, he never dared refuse it. “Fashion won’t kill you,” Cella said. But Mason swore it did, especially when Kieran wore it while scolding him.
The great wolf, who seconds ago had felt like a free and untamed spirit, lowered his ears and head, letting out a small whimper as he looked at the muddy mess he’d left on the floor.
—I… I’m sorry…—
He murmured, his voice almost human.
Kieran watched him with that mix of annoyance and tenderness only he could manage.
—It’s okay. I’m glad you’re having fun… but clean up this mess.—
He said, pointing to the muddy floor and then to the mop in the corner.
Mason let out a tragic sigh but obeyed. First, he cleaned himself up, shifting forms, putting on clothes, and wrestling with the mop as if it were his mortal enemy.
He wasn’t exactly a cleaning expert; more than once, he spilled water everywhere, but he tried.
When he finished, he approached Kieran almost crawling, wearing that puppy dog expression of guilt that only he could pull off.
—Will you forgive me, love?—
He asked, his voice trembling and eyes pleading.
Kieran sighed and pulled him onto his lap, running his fingers through Mason’s hair.
—Of course, my silly wolf.—
And with that, Mason melted completely, forgetting all alpha male dignity.
Days passed, and the routine was a spectacle worthy of a supernatural romantic comedy. When something was missing in the kitchen, Kieran didn’t hesitate: he would walk over to the couch, where Mason was napping with his mouth slightly open, and gently move him.
—Mason… could you go get a few things I need for dinner?—
The vampire asked, in his gentle tone.
Half asleep, the wolf growled without thinking.
—You could go… It’s not a big deal.—
Grave mistake.
Fatal error 1: growl at your partner begrudgingly.
Fatal error 2: dare to answer back.
Final result: here lies a brave… or rather, an unwise soul.
Unfortunately, there was a deadly silence after that. Kieran looked at him calmly, with that dangerous calm that always precedes disaster.
He crouched and cupped Mason’s face in his cold hands.
—My love… I adore you, but… don’t you dare growl at me, nor answer me back.—
His voice was sweet, too sweet. Mason felt like his soul was slipping out through his ears.
—So… you’re going to go get what I need. It’s not a question. It’s an order.—
Fatal words. Mason leapt off the couch as if stung by a bee, grabbed the list Kieran handed him, and bolted out of the house at full speed.
From the window, Kieran smiled charmingly.
—I love you! And don’t take too long!—
He shouted.
Mason muttered to himself as he ran away.
—This is rock bottom… it can’t get any lower.—
For the first time, he understood Blake. He should never have laughed at him when his wife made him sleep on the couch for answering back.
Karma is a cruel mistress.
The cycle continued.
And yes, even at family gatherings, the story didn’t change, especially when the werewolf family met to hunt, to reminisce about old times.
One night, Mason walked with Kieran in his wolf form: proud, powerful, indomitable, or so he thought. The moon lit up the forest, and the Kane family followed at a respectful distance.
—You’re ruining my tough-guy image—
Mason growled, trying to sound fierce.
Kieran, with his sharp smile, stroked his ears mercilessly.
—Really? I hadn’t noticed. I guess you’re no longer my sweet good wolf. Maybe I should go back to the cabin.—
The wolf felt something break inside him. When Kieran withdrew his hand, Mason stepped closer, seeking the caresses.
—Oh… so who’s a good wolf then?—
Kieran asked, amused.
Mason didn’t hesitate for a second.
—MEEE!—
He said happily, wagging his tail like a golden retriever.
Behind them, the Kane family watched in complete silence.
—We lost him…—
Whispered Liam dramatically.
—We have a fallen soldier—
Added Lily, pretending to wipe away a tear.
—How the hell did he do it!?—
Exclaimed Mrs.Kane, incredulous.
—I never could tame Mason. He was a little devil as a child!—
She protested.
—We should ask the vampire for tips—
Roger laughed, pointing at Kieran.
The werewolf simply snorted, resigned, while Kieran laughed, enjoying every second.
And that’s how the most stubborn, wild, and proud wolf ended up domesticated… by a vampire with a dangerous smile and lethal caresses.
Because in the end, no matter how free you think you are: no wolf survives the love of a vampire in a pink apron.