Old Wolf's Forbidden Fairy Queen

An older werewolf named lone that falls in love with the queen of the fairy's Ferya. A love that was always forbidden. She already had her fairy mate and was off doing her own thing. But the imprint was killing him sometimes making him week at times

Within the heart of the ancient forest, Lone, a grizzled werewolf with fur as dark as midnight, prowled the edge of the fairy realm. His muscles, honed by years of wilderness survival, tensed beneath his pelt, a constant war raging inside him. The imprint—an ancient, unyielding bond—pulled at his core, a relentless, painful ache. She was the queen, the luminescent one, dancing in the glow of her own fairy lights. Beside her was her mate, another fairy but smaller, shining just as bright but not as the Queen did. Their laughter echoed through the trees, a sound as delicate as the flutter of wings. Their names were Ferya and Zel. Tonight, she was alluring and then some. Her gossamer gown shimmered with a thousand tiny lights, and her silver hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall. She knew the werewolf existed, his shape flickering in her peripheral vision, but she smoothed away her smirk at the sight of him and stayed with her mate. Lone couldn't take his eyes off her. The imprint burned hotter, a fever in his blood. He could taste her sweet, honeyed scent carried on the breeze, imagine the softness of her skin against his rough paws. The ache intensified, a insufferable longing that threatened to drive him mad. A single, silver glow came from Zel's finger and he pointed it at Lone; the glow shot out and lit up his pupised eyes. The Queen turned to look at him, her eyes widening. "A feast", she said to Zel, ignoring the glow. Her mate nodded toward the feast and then left their sides swiftly. Her gaze lingered on Lone a moment longer, a strange mix of curiosity and danger in her eyes. She wandered over with grace and intent, her wings leaving a trail of stardust. "Why do you haunt the edges of our realm, beast?" Ferya asked, her voice like music, a voice that matched her body, a body that needed to be explored and ravaged. Lone didn't respond, he couldn't. His chest heaved, the battle within him raging. The imprint surged, a wave of heat that left him dizzy. Ferya watched him, her eyes wide, unaffected, a touch of danger in her gaze and the curve of her lips. He stood rooted to the spot, a slave to her pull, to the way her eyes lit up his darkest parts, craving her touch, her voice.

Ferya stepped closer, her wings humming softly, the stardust they released settling on Lone's fur, glowing softly. He could feel the magic in it, a gentle tickle against his skin. "You're not like the others," she murmured, reaching out a hand. She didn't touch him, not yet, but her fingers hovered close, tracing the line of his jaw. "They fear us. You... you just watch. You yearn." Lone's breath hitched. Her scent was intoxicating up close, a mix of sweet nectar and something wild and untamed. He wanted to bury his face in her hair, to breathe her in. But he held still, a statue under her gaze, her touch. "You're hurting," she whispered, her fingers finally making contact, a soft brush against his fur. Her touch was electric, a jolt that shot straight to his core. "I can see it. The pain, the longing. It's killing you." Lone let out a low growl, a sound of agreement, of pleading. He wanted her to understand, to feel the same pull, the same need. He wanted her to take the pain away. Ferya's eyes flashed, a storm of silver and blue. She stepped even closer, her body almost pressed against his. "I can help you, Lone," she said, her voice a low purr. "But you have to let me in. You have to trust me." Her hand moved from his jaw, tracing a path down his neck, his chest, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "Do you trust me, Lone?" She whispered against his ear. "Do you want this?"

Lone's body trembled under her touch, a storm of desire and fear raging within him. Her words, a soft purr against his ear, sent shivers down his spine. He wanted to trust her, to let her in, but the imprint was a wild beast, unpredictable and dangerous. Yet, her touch soothed it, her presence calmed the storm. She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his. "Let me in, Lone," she whispered, her voice a soft command. Her fingers traced the outline of his muzzle, his jaws, her touch feather-light, gentle. He leaned into it, a soft whine escaping him. His eyes, those haunted, wolfish eyes, met hers. And in that moment, something shifted. She smiled, a slow, sensual curve of her lips, her fingers moving to his chest, her touch igniting a fire within him. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice dripping with lust and power. She pressed closer, her body molding against his, her wings wrapping around him, a cocoon of stardust and magic. Lone's breath hitched, his body responding to her, his muscles tensing, his heart pounding. He could feel her, every soft curve, every delicate line. He wanted to touch her, to explore her, to claim her. But he held still, a prisoner to her touch, her scent, her voice. "Let's take this to your lair, beast," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear, her voice a low, seductive purr. "I want to see where you live, where you dream. I want to see you, Lone. All of you."

Ferya pulled back, her eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. "Lead the way, Lone. Show me your world." She took a step back, her wings fluttering gently, leaving a trail of shimmering stardust in her wake. Her gown caught the moonlight, making her look like a living constellation. Lone hesitated for a moment, the imprint pulsing within him, a mix of hunger and fear. But her scent, her touch, her voice—all of it urged him on. He turned, his paws digging into the soft earth, and began to move silently through the forest. The crunch of leaves and the rustle of underbrush were the only sounds, a stark contrast to the hum of magic that followed her. The path was dark, the trees dense, but Lone moved with confidence, his eyes reflecting the faint light filtering through the canopy. He could feel her behind him, her presence a warm, tingling sensation on his fur. The imprint burned hotter, a fever in his blood, but it was a sweet pain now, a promise of what was to come. After a while, the trees began to thin, the underbrush grew sparser, and a large, dark cave loomed ahead. Lone turned to look at her, his eyes glowing in the dim light. "This is my home," he said, his voice a low rumble. Ferya's eyes widened as she took in the cave, her wings humming softly. "It's... it's perfect," she murmured, stepping closer. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the rough stone, her touch leaving a trail of glowing stardust. She looked back at him, her eyes filled with wonder and desire. "Show me, Lone. Show me your world."

Lone dipped his head, a low, encouraging rumble in his chest. He stepped into the cave, his form shifting, muscles and bones rearranging with a soft pop and crack. When he turned back, he was in his humanoid shape, naked, his skin shimmering with the same stardust that coated the cave walls. "This is where I come to think," he said, gesturing to the space. "To dream." Ferya's gaze roamed over him, taking in every line, every curve. A soft smile played on her lips. "It's beautiful, Lone. Like you." She stepped closer, her wings brushing against his chest. The stardust on her lashes sparkled as she looked up at him. "And what do you dream of, Lone? When you're here, alone in the dark?" He hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "Of you," he admitted, his voice a low growl. "Of this. Of us, together." He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw. Her skin was soft, warm under his touch. Ferya leaned into his hand, her eyes never leaving his. "And what do you want, Lone?" she whispered, her voice a soft, seductive purr. "What do you need?" Her hands moved to his chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Tell me," she urged, her voice a soft command. Lone's breath hitched, his body responding to her touch, her voice, her scent. "You, Ferya," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "I want you. I need you." Ferya's smile grew wider, her eyes sparkling with lust and power. "Good," she purred, her fingers moving lower, tracing the lines of his abdomen, his hips. "Because I want you too, Lone. I need you." She stepped closer, her body pressing against his, her wings wrapping around him, a cocoon of stardust and magic. "Show me, Lone," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. "Show me what you want. What you need." He growled, a low, primal sound, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer. He could feel her, every soft curve, every delicate line. He wanted to touch her, to explore her, to claim her. He wanted to show her, to give her, to take her. His mouth found hers, hungry, demanding. He claimed her with a fierce, possessive kiss. Her lips were soft, yielding, her mouth sweet, intoxicating. He could feel her, every soft gasp, every gentle moan. Her touch, her voice, her scent—all of it drove him wild, made him burn. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. She met his kiss with equal fervor, her tongue tangling with his, her body pressing against his, molding to his form. She was fire in his arms, a wild, untamable flame, burning him, consuming him. And he loved it. He craved it. He needed it. He needed her.

Her hands slid down his back, tracing the muscles that flexed under her touch. He walked her backward, their kiss never breaking, until her shoulders hit the cool cave wall. He pressed against her, his body pinning hers, his hardness evident against her softness. She gasped into his mouth, the sound muffled by his hungry kiss. Lone's hands explored her, tracing the curves of her wings, the small of her back, the flare of her hips. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her jaw, her neck, his teeth nipping at her collarbone. She tilted her head back, exposing more of her throat, a soft moan escaping her. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, a sharp contrast to the softness of her touch earlier. "Are you going to mark me, beast?" she whispered, her voice a mix of challenge and desire. "Or are you all bark and no bite?" His response was a low growl, a rumble in his chest that vibrated against her skin. His lips found hers again, his kiss more fierce, more demanding. His hands moved to her gown, the fabric shimmering under his touch, dissolving at his command. He pulled back slightly, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch of her exposed skin. She was a vision, a goddess in the dim light of the cave, her skin glowing with stardust, her wings sparkling like a constellation. "You are so beautiful, Ferya," he murmured, his voice thick with desire and awe. His fingers traced the line of her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts, his touch gentle, reverent. He leaned down, his lips following the path his fingers had taken, his tongue tasting her, his teeth nipping at her skin. She arched into him, a soft gasp escaping her lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her. He moved lower, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She moaned, her body arching into his touch, her head falling back against the wall. He lavished attention on her breasts, his mouth and hands working in tandem, his touch driving her wild, making her burn. She could feel the heat pooling between her legs, her body aching, her heart pounding. She wanted more. She needed more. She needed him.

Ferya's breath hitched as Lone's mouth moved lower, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin of her stomach. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails leaving half-moon marks on his skin. She could feel the heat of his breath, the slight roughness of his stubble, and it sent shivers down her spine. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he explored her body with his mouth, his touch both gentle and possessive. It is as if he is mapping her, committing her to memory. His tongue dipped into her navel, making her gasp. He looked up at her, his eyes glowing in the dim light, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "You taste like magic, Ferya," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that she felt more than heard. His hands slid down her thighs, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. She could feel the heat pooling between her legs, her body aching, her heart pounding. She wanted more. She needed more. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear, his eyes never leaving hers. She held her breath, her body trembling with anticipation. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, teasing kiss. "Is this what you want, Ferya?" he whispered, his voice a low growl. "Is this what you need?" She nodded, her voice caught in her throat, her body screaming for his touch. He growled, a low, primal sound, his hands tugging at her underwear, the fabric dissolving under his touch. She was exposed to him, her body bare, her heart open. He looked at her, his eyes roaming over her body, his expression a mix of awe and desire. "You are perfect, Ferya," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Every inch of you." He leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. She met his kiss with equal fervor, her body pressing against his, her hands tangling in his hair. She could feel his hardness, his need, his desire. It matched her own, a burning inferno that threatened to consume them both. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her jaw, her neck, his teeth nipping at her collarbone. She tilted her head back, exposing more of her throat, a soft moan escaping her. His hands moved to her thighs, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She could feel the heat of his breath, the slight roughness of his stubble, and it sent her senses reeling. "This is what you do to me, Ferya," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "You make me burn." His fingers brushed against her core, his touch gentle, teasing. She gasped, her body arching into his touch, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "You make me want to claim you, to mark you, to make you mine." His fingers moved, his touch more insistent, more demanding. She could feel the heat building, the pressure coiling in her belly, her body trembling on the edge of release. "Is this what you want, Ferya?" he growled, his voice a low, primal sound. "Is this what you need?" His fingers moved faster, his touch more insistent, driving her wild, pushing her closer to the edge. "Tell me, Ferya," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what you want." She could feel it building, the tension coiling in her belly, her body trembling on the edge of release. She was so close, so ready. She wanted to fall, to let go, to surrender to the pleasure, to the heat, to the fire.

Ferya's eyes fluttered open, meeting Lone's intense gaze. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the need that matched her own. "I want you, Lone," she panted, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her fingers dug into his skin, anchoring her to the moment. "I need you to..." She hesitated, her breath hitching as his fingers continued their torturous dance. "...to make me yours." Lone's growl vibrated through her, his fingers circling, pressing, driving her closer to the brink. "Say it, Ferya," he demanded, his voice a low rumble. "Say what you want me to do." She gasped, her hips bucking against his hand, seeking more, needing more. "I want you to... to touch me," she stammered, her voice breathless. "I want you to make me come, Lone. I want to feel you inside me." Her cheeks flushed, her eyes never leaving his. She was bared to him, body and soul. He growled, a sound of primal satisfaction. His fingers moved faster, his touch more insistent, more demanding. He leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a fierce, hungry kiss. She met his kiss, her body pressing against his, her hands tangling in his hair. She could feel it building, the tension coiling in her belly, her body trembling on the edge of release. His thumb found her clit, circling, pressing, his fingers sliding in and out of her with a rhythm that was pure torture. She could feel the heat building, the pressure coiling, her body trembling on the edge. She was so close, so ready. She wanted to fall, to let go, to surrender to the pleasure, to the heat, to the fire. She wanted him to push her over the edge, to send her spiraling into oblivion. Just as she was about to tumble over, Lone pulled back, his fingers stilling. She gasped, her body crying out for release, her eyes widening in shock. "You want to come, Ferya?" he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You want to feel me inside you?" He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Tell me what you'll give me in return," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "Tell me what you'll let me do to you."

Ferya's breath hitched, her body tensing at his words. She looked into his eyes, seeing the fierce desire that mirrored her own, but also a challenge. A demand. "What do you want, Lone?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her. "What will it take to make you mine?" He smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. "I want all of you, Ferya," he murmured, his fingers resuming their torment, but slower, gentler, prolonging her agony. "Your body, your soul, your trust. I want you to surrender to me, to let me in completely." She whimpered, her body arching into his touch. "I'm yours, Lone," she panted. "You know I am. I've given you my heart, my body—" "And your trust, Ferya?" he interrupted, his thumb circling her clit, his fingers pulsing inside her. "Can I have that too? Can you let go, knowing I'll catch you?" She hesitated, her eyes searching his. She could see the sincerity in his gaze, the sincerity of his question, the sincerity of his heart. She took a deep breath, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her impending orgasm. "Yes, Lone," she whispered. "You have my trust. I'm yours, completely. Take me, claim me, make me yours." His growl was a sound of triumph, of possession. His fingers moved faster, his touch more insistent, driving her wild, pushing her closer to the edge. His lips captured hers, his kiss fierce, demanding, claiming. She met his kiss, her body pressing against his, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. She could feel it building, the tension coiling in her belly, her body trembling on the edge of release. She was so close, so ready. She wanted to fall, to let go, to surrender to the pleasure, to the heat, to the fire. Just as she was about to tumble over, Lone pulled back, his fingers stilling. She gasped, her body crying out for release, her eyes widening in shock. "No, Lone," she panted, her voice a desperate plea. "Please, don't stop. I need you." He smiled, a slow, wicked grin. "I know, Ferya," he murmured, his voice a low, dark promise. "And I'll give you what you need. But first, I want you to ride my hand, Ferya. I want you to take your pleasure from me. Show me what you need, what you want. Show me how you like it." His fingers resumed their torment, his touch gentle, teasing, driving her wild. "And then, Ferya," he growled, his voice a low, primal sound. "And then, I'll give you what you truly need. I'll give you me."

"Show me, Ferya," Lone repeated, his voice a low command. "Show me how you like it." His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, teasing her, building the heat within her but denying her the release she craved. She whimpered, her hips beginning to move in a slow, torturous rhythm, chasing his touch. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she tried to ride his hand. "Lone," she panted, her voice a desperate plea. "Please, I need more." He growled, a sound of dark satisfaction. "Take it, Ferya," he urged, his fingers moving a fraction faster. "Take what you need from me." She closed her eyes, her body tensing as she tried to grasp the pleasure he offered. Her movements became more urgent, more desperate, her hips bucking against his hand. She could feel the heat building, the pressure coiling, her body trembling on the edge. But it wasn't enough. It was torture, sweet and agonizing. Lone leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Open your eyes, Ferya," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Look at me. Let me see you." She complied, her eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the desire that matched her own. She could see the challenge, the demand. She took a deep breath, her body trembling with the effort of holding back, of taking what he offered but not surrendering completely. Then, Lone's lips captured hers, his tongue delving into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her. She gasped, her body arching into his touch, her hands tangling in his hair. She met his kiss, her tongue dueling with his, her body moving in a frenzied rhythm, chasing the pleasure, chasing the release. His fingers moved faster, his touch more insistent, driving her wild, pushing her closer to the edge. She could feel it building, the tension coiling in her belly, her body trembling on the brink of release. She was so close, so ready. She wanted to fall, to let go, to surrender to the pleasure, to the heat, to the fire.

Ferya's breath hitched as Lone's touch became more insistent, his fingers moving with a purpose that left her gasping. The room seemed to spin around her, the world narrowing down to the sensation of his touch, the taste of his kiss, the sound of his low growls. She was so close, so ready to shatter. Lone's lips moved to her neck, nibbling, sucking, marking her as his. "Come for me, Ferya," he murmured against her skin. "Let go. I've got you." His words were a command, a promise, a plea. She could feel the tension in her body, the coiling heat, the desperate need for release. She looked into his eyes, seeing the love, the desire, the sheer need reflecting back at her. And she let go. Her body convulsed, a wave of pleasure crashing over her, stealing her breath, her thoughts, her very soul. She cried out, her voice a ragged scream, her body arching off the bed, her hands clutching at Lone, anchoring her to the earth as she spiraled into the void. Lone's growl vibrated through her, his fingers slowing, his touch gentling as he brought her down from the peak. He kissed her, his lips soft, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see the satisfaction in his gaze, the pride, the love. She could see the promise of more, of forever. As her breathing slowed, as her body relaxed, Ferya looked at Lone, her heart swelling with love, with gratitude, with a sense of completion. She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing against his stubble. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her screams. He smiled, a soft, tender curve of his lips. "My pleasure, Ferya," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "And now, it's my turn." She smiled back, her eyes shining with unshed tears, her body already anticipating his touch, his kiss, his love. "Yes, Lone," she whispered. "It's your turn. Take what you need from me. Take all of me."

Ferya's fingers trailed down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, her touch light and exploratory. Lone stilled, his body tense as he tried to pull away. "Ferya, you don't have to—" She silenced him with a soft touch to his lips. "Shh, Lone. Let me." Her voice was steady, her eyes never leaving his. She could see the struggle in his gaze, the battle between his desire and his protective instincts. She shifted, her body moving under his, her legs parting to cradle him. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, against her chest. She could feel the heat of his body, the tension in his muscles, the restraint he was imposing on himself. "You don't have to hold back, Lone," she murmured, her voice a soft whisper. "I want this. I want you." She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing against his stubble. "I want to feel you, all of you. I want to give you pleasure, just as you gave me." She could see the resolve in his eyes falter, the tension in his body easing. She smiled, a soft, tender curve of her lips. "Let go, Lone. Let me take care of you." He took a deep breath, his body relaxing, his eyes softening. He leaned into her touch, his lips capturing hers in a soft, tender kiss. She could feel the love in his touch, the desire, the need. She could feel the promise of more, of forever. Their bodies moved together, a slow, sensual dance, a give and take, a push and pull. They explored each other, their touches tentative at first, then growing bolder, more confident, more demanding. They chased each other's pleasure, their breaths mingling, their hearts pounding in sync.

Ferya's fingertips danced along Lone's spine, tracing the curves of his muscles, his skin hot under her touch. He shuddered, his breath hitching as she explored him, her touch light and insistent. His body responded to hers, his hips pressing against her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But she could feel the tension in him, the internal struggle. He was holding back, afraid to let go completely, to take what he needed. She understood his fear, his hesitation. He was a loner, a wolf who had always operated alone. But she knew him, knew his heart, and she wanted to break down those walls, to show him that he didn't have to be alone anymore. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't stay, Ferya. I have to go." She paused, her hand stilling on his back. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Why, Lone?" she asked, her voice soft, non-accusatory. He looked away, his jaw tense, his body rigid. "I can't give you what you need, Ferya. I can't be the man you deserve." He took a deep breath, his voice steady as he said, "It's better this way. I have to leave." She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek, turning his face back to hers. "Lone, look at me," she said, her voice firm. "You're wrong. You can give me what I need. You already have. And you deserve to be happy, to be loved. You deserve to let go, to take what you need." He looked into her eyes, his own filled with pain, with longing, with a desperate need to believe her. But she could see the fear, the hesitation. She smiled, a soft, tender curve of her lips. "Stay, Lone," she whispered. "Stay with me. Let me love you." He hesitated, his body tense, his eyes searching hers. She could see the battle raging within him, the struggle between his desire and his fear. She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing against his stubble. "It's okay, Lone," she murmured. "Let go. Let me in. Let me love you."

“You have a fairy mate, and kin of my own,” Lone said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t drag you into my world, Ferya. It’s not safe. It’s not... it’s not normal. You deserve better than that.” Ferya's eyes never left his, her gaze steady and unyielding. She shifted slightly, her body pressing closer to his, a silent plea for him to stay. "Lone, I know what I'm getting into. I know who you are, what you are. And I want this, I want you. Your world is my world now, if you'll let it be." She could see the turmoil in his eyes, the war between his duty and his desire. She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her touch gentle but firm. "You think you're protecting me by leaving, but you're not. You're hurting me. And you're hurting yourself." She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a soft, tender kiss. She could feel the tension in his body, the struggle within him. She deepened the kiss, her tongue teasing his lips, her body pressing against his. He groaned, a low, tortured sound, his body responding to hers despite his reservations. She smiled against his lips, her hands roaming his body, her touch demanding, insistent. "Stay, Lone," she murmured, her voice a soft whisper. "Stay with me. Let me love you." He hesitated, his body tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps. She could see the battle raging within him, the struggle between his desire and his fear. But she could also see the flicker of hope in his eyes, the spark of longing, the desperate need to believe her.