Chapter Text

Chapter 1: The Base Violence Necessary for Change (Prologue)

🌙

Vander took a deep breath as he surveyed the gathering before him. The highest ranking members of both the Piltover pack and the Zaun pack had come, just as agreed. Everyone even seemed to be playing nice with each other. So he wasn’t quite sure why he still felt so on edge, his instincts screaming at him as if the very foundation was about to fall out from under them. 

The site wasn’t exactly neutral ground, but it seemed to be a show of good will from the Pilties. They had some wonderboy inventor they’d adopted into their pack, and he’d offered to host at his lab. It was clearly a way for him and the Pilties to show off their recent innovations, flexing their paws as the more “advanced” or “progressive” pack, but it also came with an offer of collaboration. 

“You look as miserable as you smell,” a calm voice said from behind him. He turned around and smiled softly at his mate, his gaze lingering on the scar over his eye. A bad memory for both of them. 

“Hah, you say as if you don’t quite enjoy my scent,” he retorted back instead. Silco caught the way his gaze lingered over his scarred eye and he hummed softly to himself. All of their years together, all of the ups and downs of their relationship, and he still couldn’t quite tell what was going on in this man’s brilliant mind. The scar was from the last time Silco had made bold plans without Vander’s approval. Actually - that wasn’t quite true, was it? Silco hadn’t been hurt in the charge into Piltovan territory. No, Vander had been the one to cause that scar himself, unable to contain his own rage at the devastation it had caused their pack. 

“I enjoy it a bit more when it doesn’t reek of despondency. Weren’t you the one that pushed us to agree to this little gathering? Something about better relations between the packs being good for our future?” Silco asked, pausing to tilt his head at one of the young pups they’d adopted. “Their future?” 

Vander watched the pup for a moment. Her shock of blue hair was clumsily clipped out of her face. Vander had never quite gotten the hang of how to style it for her, and her older sister barely paid her own hair any mind. She was eyeing the tables full of posh Piltie food like she was a starved little thing. He chuckled slightly at the sight. Young pups never could seem to eat enough. 

“Aye, it is good for their future. We want our pups to inherit peace between our packs, and if the Pilties want to share some of their fancy gadgets, well, maybe it can make life easier for us all,” he agreed. Beyond the table of food the wonderboy inventor was busy showing off one of his new inventions. A wolf from Vander’s pack seemed quite intrigued, and their chemistry was evident even across the room. Perhaps more interpack relations could help some of their wolves that hadn’t yet found a mate. More wolves with mates would strengthen both of the packs.

“Is it? More years under these gold crusted boots? Don’t we have higher ambitions for our pups? These Pilties will never see our pack as equal. We are the roach scurrying in their house that they haven’t yet squashed because they’re too posh for it. Don’t you want Vi to inherit a pack that is not only seen as equal, but is respected?” Silco mused, turning his gaze from the blue haired pup to her older sister. Vander shook his head angrily, feeling a familiar flash of rage in his gut. They’d had this talk over and over. He had thought once they moved on after the last incident that Silco would stop with these delusions. But part of him wondered if his mate resented him for not agreeing to his plans, for foiling some of them, and mostly, for causing that scar across his eye. 

“No more of this talk. This is a day for peace and diplomacy. If you have any concerns about how I’m leading this pack, we will discuss them in private, later.” 

Silco didn’t respond. He simply hummed once more before wandering off. Vander watched him go, the uneasy feeling in his gut screaming at him again. 

“Vander, I wanted to thank you personally for attending today,” a woman’s voice called out, politely stepping into the space that Silco vacated. One of the Piltovan alphas, he recalled. The other pack didn’t follow a hierarchy like Zaun did. Rather they had powerful wolves that formed a council to make all of their decisions. They didn’t even fight each other for their positions, no they either inherited them or voted them in. 

“Of course, Cassandra. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. It seems Piltover has been busy,” he responded, gesturing towards the inventor, still deep in conversation with Viktor. Cassandra smiled. Vander knew that she came from one of the oldest and most powerful families in Piltover, a matriarchal lineage of strong wolves. 

“Ah yes, when Jayce came to this city I saw his potential right away. Not only were him and his mother welcomed into our pack, but I personally took him under my paw. He’s been sponsored by House Kiramman for years now, and we’re so proud of the work that he’s doing. Not to mention, my own pup has taken a bit of a liking to him,” she said. Her tone was conversational, but Vander caught the subtle power flexes in her statement. She was an influential wolf that had an eye for fostering talent, and she wanted to make sure every wolf knew that. 

“Sorry to your pup, but I think him and Viktor are hitting it off over there. Has he embraced a mating bond yet?” It was a nosy question, Vander knew it was. Asking around to see which wolves in another pack had fully manifested within their power was taboo at best, dangerous at worst. But he couldn’t help but wonder what the benefits could be for both packs if they explored more interpack relations. To his surprise, Cassandra laughed at the question as if he’d said something ridiculous. 

“Oh no, not that kind of liking,” she clarified. “My Caitlyn is more like a little sister to Jayce. Besides, I think a different wolf has caught her attention tonight.” She tilted her sharp chin towards a navy haired pup hovering at the edge of the gathering, a bit shyly. The family resemblance was immediately obvious in the pup’s face, although her coloring didn’t quite match Cassandra’s. The little Kiramman was watching something with fascination on her face, before blushing furiously and turning away. Vander followed her gaze to see his own pink haired pup. Vi was goofing off with her adopted brothers, which was expected behavior of her. Yet, she also kept stealing glances at the Kiramman pup, almost puffing out her chest and showing off each time she thought the other girl might be looking. Vander’s first instinct was to laugh at the sweet interaction, but he cast a sidelong glance at Cassandra. He wasn’t so sure how a Piltovan with a pedigree would feel about a scruffy Zaunite pup sniffing about her daughter. To his surprise, Cassandra smiled softly as she watched the children, taking a sip of her glass.

“That’d be my daughter,” he said carefully, watching to see if her reaction changed. She shot him a mischievous look.

“Children have a way of surprising us, don’t they?” 

“They sure do,” he agreed with a hearty laugh. The whole lot of them found new ways to surprise him all the time. “You’re not bothered?” He added in a lower voice. Cassandra shrugged.

“They’re just children.”

“And if it were more than that? Sometimes they can sense something, even that young,” he pointed out. Cassandra watched the children thoughtfully. There was no doubt she was an incredibly intelligent woman, and she knew what he was really asking. 

“If that were the case, I can’t say it’s what I’ve imagined as her mother. But at the end of the day, as long as she’s safe and happy. Her father and I have a very loving bond, and I hope my daughter can experience that one day herself.”

“But you and I are more than just parents, aren’t we?”

She sighed as she took another sip of her drink.

“That we are. I can’t speak for the rest of the councilors, but I imagine there could be a great deal of benefit for both packs. Besides, I think we may learn how such a dynamic works sooner rather than later,” she pointed her glass to where Viktor and Jayce were still deep in conversation. 

“Good thing they’re just children then,” Vander murmured.

“Yes, good thing,” Cassandra agreed. “It was good talking with you, Vander. I hope we can have more of these types of events. I’d love to get to know your daughter better myself.” Vander bid farewell to the Kiramman matriarch before she left to continue her rounds with the other influential wolves about the room. He watched her for a moment, observing the way her gaze kept flitting back to her blue haired pup, who in turn kept looking towards Vi. No doubt now that he had pointed it out, Cassandra had similar suspicions about their pups. He shook his head with a smile, before his other daughter threw herself into his arms, sniffling.

“Powder, what’s happened?” he asked softly, scooping her up in his big arms. He expected one of her usual answers, most likely that the boys were picking on her again or that she couldn’t keep up with whatever game her older siblings were playing this time.

“They haven’t even brought out dessert yet, but Silco says we have to leave now,” she whined. “Can’t I stay for just one cookie? Please?” 

Vander frowned. The night was still young, and they hadn’t discussed sending the pups home early. 

“He did? Well, let me find him and see what I can do about that,” he said, setting her back down. He searched the room for his partner, that instinct from earlier screaming at him again. It was usually easy to find one’s mate, something about their presence, their scent, all of it, drew the inner wolf towards them. It’s how young wolves typically found their mates in the first place, some innate thing about them that pulled them towards each other, the inner wolf desperate to be calmed by their presence. 

There. 

Speaking in hushed tones with their second in command, Sevika, a tall and muscular she-wolf. Her brow was set firmly as her dark eyes scanned the room before briefly landing on a certain blue haired Piltovan pup. She nodded in assent to Silco and the edge of his lips twitched upwards before they separated. She disappeared into the hallway, and Silco began walking towards the rest of their pups.

“Children, it’s time to go,” he said firmly. 

“What? Why? We’re having fun,” Vi protested immediately, her eyes darting towards where the Kiramman pup had been a moment ago. 

“Because I said so, collect your sister and meet Huck by the main door. He’ll escort all of you home,” he snapped in response.

“This sucks,” Mylo groaned.

“Come on, let’s go,” Claggor acquiesced, tugging at his brother’s arm. Vi stared down with Silco for a moment before huffing and leaving to find Powder. Even as their adopted pup, she was supposed to follow her alphas’ orders. As Silco’s partner, Vander knew he shouldn’t encourage her attitude, but as a father, he always felt a sense of pride. She would inherit the pack one day, he could sense it. And after this evening, part of him wondered what a Zaunite pack led by an alpha bonded to a Piltovan alpha would look like. 

“Vander,” Silco said in greeting as he reached him. He steeled his eyes.

“What are you up to? Why are you sending the pups home?” he demanded, grabbing Silco’s arm in his much larger hand. Silco glanced at the gesture before looking back at his mate.

“Trust me on this,” the steely response came. Vander shook his head.

“No, tell me. If you’re putting our pups or our pack in danger-”

“I’m not,” Silco snapped, yanking his arm free of Vander’s grip. “Everything I do is for this pack. Everything.” 

Vander stared him down, trying to read his partner’s intentions just once.

“We have a chance for peace here, Silco. Look at how well everyone is getting on. This is good for the packs, this is good for us,” he pleaded. Silco’s ears flicked towards the main entrance, where Huck was escorting their children out before he locked eyes with Sevika, nodding once. 

“You want peace for our children, I want power.”

The words felt like a slap to Vander’s face.

“Whatever you have planned, stop it,” he growled, his inner wolf’s hackles rising in preparation for whatever fight his partner had dragged him into this time. 

“It’s too late, dear,” Silco breathed. Before Vander could question him, the building seemed to implode in on itself, too fast for any of the wolves’ instincts to prepare them for action. Wolves began bolting in every direction, some transforming immediately to move faster, racing towards the nearest exits as the ground began to wobble and crumble. Silco kept his gaze locked on Vander. 

He swore under his breath as he watched the chaos unfold around them before grabbing Silco’s arm again and barreling towards the nearest window. Everytime, he chose to protect his mate. Every damn time, no matter the consequences. And one day this man would be the death of him, he felt it in his bones. 

“Caitlyn! Where’s Caitlyn?” a voice shrieked over the chaos. Vander cast a glance towards a frantic Cassandra Kiramman as a man beside her transformed into a large blue wolf, sniffing the air, no doubt trying to find the scent of their young pup amongst all of the others around them.

Vander and Silco landed on the ground below, Vander using his bulky frame to soften the blow for Silco. 

“What have you done?” he snarled. Silco smirked in response. 

“Oh dear, it seems that ambitious little inventor must have had a mishap with one of his little trinkets,” he crooned. Vander’s anger flashed bright and ugly within him. He growled in response.

“Caitlyn!” Cassandra’s screams were still audible with Vander’s wolf ears. Silco’s smirk grew.

“How tragic, it seems their little heir apparent was caught in the blast.” 

Another growl rippled through him as the anger continued to grow, the inner wolf relishing in it, eager to be released.

“Boss,” Sevika’s voice interrupted them before Vander could do something he would regret again. They both snapped their heads towards her. She jerked her head towards a doorway behind her before disappearing into it. Vander huffed, glowering at Silco again as they followed her. 

Inside the small building, just outside the blast zone, stood Sevika, arms crossed casually as she leaned against a wall. She watched the bound and gagged pup on the floor thrash and snarl at her, her brow lifted in amusement. Cold dread and revulsion replaced Vander’s writhing anger. 

“Silco, what is this?” he demanded, his voice lethally low. Silco ignored him as he knelt in front of the pup, grabbing her chin to get a closer look at her. 

“They’re so drunk on their own power they think they’re untouchable, don’t they? Why else would they leave something so precious to their future unguarded?” he mused. A deep snarl escaped around the pup’s gag, a defiant glint in her bright blue eyes. 

“Silco, she’s a child. A pup,” Vander tried again. Silco shrugged, reaching in his pocket to retrieve a glowing blue ball. Whatever it was, the pup seemed to recognize it, her thrashing becoming more violent.

“Sevika, hold her down,” Silco said calmly. “There’s no guarantee if I bury you under the rubble, child, that your healing won’t manage to keep up, even at your age. No, we need to make sure this is done correctly. I’m going to remove your gag and you’re going to swallow this, it’ll do the trick, won’t it?” 

Vander pushed himself in front of the girl.

“You can’t kill her, I won’t allow it.” 

Silco let out a weary sigh, meeting his partner’s eyes.

“A little late for that, isn’t it? If I let her go now she’ll immediately tell her very powerful mummy and daddy how mean the Zaun Alphas were to her. It’ll be a full on pack war, Vander. Is that what you want? How many wolves will we lose if we go head to head with the Piltovans at their current strength? What about our pups? Haven’t they seen enough loss?”

The room fell silent save for the near hysterical growling and snarling from the pup. 

Vander’s mind raced with the truth of the statement. He could try to appease her parents, her mother seemed reasonable. Yet, he knew if someone tried to lay a hand on one of his own pups, his inner wolf would demand blood, it would hunger for retribution. And he knew that the Piltovan councilor dearly loved her little pup. The only thing he could possibly offer them that might satisfy their bloodlust would be his own mate. No. 

“It won’t hurt her, it’ll be very quick. Very humane,” Silco added in a softer voice, watching Vander wrestle with his morality. Vander’s mind flashed to the way his own daughter kept seeking out the Piltovan pup, the way her chest puffed up and her cheeks slightly flushed each time she caught her gaze. They might be young but if there was even a chance. . . a young wolf losing her other half at this age would cripple her. And Vander would also do anything for his daughter.

“Don’t kill her. Let her family think she’s dead if you must, but keep the pup alive. We can figure out what to do with her later, she might prove useful in one of your schemes.”

🌙

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Welcome to the Playground 

🌙

0600. She wakes up, at the exact same time as she does everyday. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. She has been trapped here for eleven years, two hundred and two days. 

The sleep schedules are diural here, likely to disorient the inhabitants and weaken their wolf and its connection with the moon. She adjusted quickly. She usually does. She quietly climbs out of bed and pulls the sheet with her. She wraps it around a brick in the wall and pulls until it yanks free. The sheet may be bare but it prevents her hands from getting scraped up and leading to more questions. She reaches in the gap left behind by the stone and pulls out all of her tools. 

0605. She gets to work fiddling with the lock on her cell door, just as she has everyday for the last five years. The first year she cried a lot. It didn’t help anything. The second year she tried to break the door repeatedly. The third year she managed to break it, was immediately caught, put under tighter surveillance, and a stronger door appeared. This time when she tried to break it she hurt herself, repeatedly. The fourth year and fifth year she mapped out the entire facility and guard routes. The fifth year she made a break for it during leisure time. She didn’t make it far. The sixth year she began making her tools and learning to break her lock. She succeeded once. She didn’t make it far. Last year she figured out another way to get better quality tools. A seemingly well connected prisoner that enjoyed Caitlyn’s company had appeared. She doesn’t know her crimes and she doesn’t care, so long as she continues to uphold her end of their arrangement. 

0630. One of her tools breaks. She stares at it for a moment before flinging the pieces across her cell in frustration. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. She has been trapped here for eleven years and two hundred and two days. 

She takes a deep breath and picks up the pieces, hiding the scraps in the wall before shaking out her sheet and laying back down on her cot. She falls asleep quickly, the guards all have wolf hearing. Her breathing and heart rate will give her away if she isn’t actually sleeping when they come by. 

0700. Guards turn on the lights and announce it’s time to wake up. Caitlyn wakes up for the second time that day. 

0715. Breakfast. It’s the same clumpy porridge as always. She doesn’t taste it though, her focus during meal times is on every guard. She mentally catalogs if each of them are behaving as usual or if there are any deviations. Lockjaw seems more on edge than normal. He just came back after his off week, he’s likely out of sorts from the schedule change.

0800. First shift. Caitlyn is assigned to scrubbing the floors. She takes her time, studying each inch of the floor as if it’s not already committed to memory. It can’t hurt to remind herself often, mistakes make all the difference. Besides, the slower she moves the more likely she is to catch gossip amongst the guards. Sevika will be out this week for events with the alpha. Good to know. Most of her escape attempts were foiled by the very same werewolf that dumped her here. 

1300. Lunch. Tasteless casserole, but Caitlyn is still studying the guards. At first they would shift under her intense scrutiny, now it would likely be considered more suspicious if she didn’t glare at them during a meal. 

1330. Leisure time. She rereads a book. She’s read all of the books in the little library enough times to recite them by heart. She rips a page out at the end when no one is looking and pockets it. 

1500. She gets her allotted time in the small gym, under supervision. Incidents happen far more often with wolves when there’s no outlet for some of their energy and aggression. Caitlyn puts herself through a rigorous regimen, using every second of her sixty minutes. 

1600. Dinner time. 

1800. Back to her cell. When she hears the guard walking away from her on their rotation she quickly pulls out her stone to retrieve the fountain pen she’d bartered for. She spreads the piece of ripped paper flat against the stone and writes out her message. She replaces the pen and the stone, folding the paper and hiding it in the pocket she sewed into her clothes. 

2100. Lights out. She can’t get up and practice her lockpicking until she gets another tool. It’s alright, the one resource she has plenty of here is time. 

🌙

0600. She wakes up with a sigh and lets herself fall back asleep. She’ll resume her work in the evening. 

0700. The guards come through and turn the lights on, banging on the walls to wake the block. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. She has been trapped here for eleven years and two hundred and three days. 

She sighs and gets up, ready for another day here. 

0715. Breakfast. More of the guards seem on edge, even the ones that haven’t come off of a shift change. Interesting. She walks her usual path to return her tray, a path that intentionally passes anyone she might need to. Today she drops the folded up piece of paper in the lap of the redhead. When she finishes turning in her tray and turns around she sees the slight nod of Maddie’s head. Good.

0800. Weekly showers. She always looks forward to being able to wipe the grime of her cell off of her, but today she has business to attend to. She finds Maddie right away, her mop of orange hair is difficult to miss amongst their gray surroundings. She wastes no time pushing the shorter girl against the edge of her shower and getting to work. They never have very much time allotted for their showers, after all. She’s done this enough, they have a rhythm. After all, she’s now traded for tools, replacements when they break, her fountain pen, her sewing kit, among other small luxuries she’s allowed herself. Her long fingers quickly bring the ginger over the edge.

“Get yourself thrown into solitary tomorrow night. I’ve got something even better than a lockpick lined up for you,” she whispers into Caitlyn’s ear as she comes down from her climax. Caitlyn nods and steps away. “Pleasure doing business with you again,” Maddie adds. Caitlyn doesn’t respond. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. She has been trapped here for eleven years and two hundred and three days. 

0830. She shows up for her shift, cleaning dishes in the kitchens today. She listens in for anymore gossip, the cooks tend to share the most.

1300. Lunch.

1330. Leisure time. She finishes the book she was rereading.

1500. Her allotted fitness time. 

1600. Dinner time. She watches the guards as she mulls over how to make sure she’s in solitary the next evening without disrupting her schedule too much. 

1800. Back to her cell. She continues her fitness routine rather than staring at the ceiling. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. She has been trapped here for eleven years and two hundred and three days. 

2100 Lights out. Once again, she lets herself get a full night’s rest.

🌙

0600. She wakes up and stares at her cell door. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. She has been trapped here for eleven years and two hundred and four days. 

0700. The guards turn on the lights and bang on the walls. 

0715. Breakfast. She tests the weight of her tray subtly against her palm. The guards are still on edge. 

0800. She barters with a guard to earn herself an extra shower. She hates being stuck in solitary without one. Once the guard comes down from her climax, she hands Caitlyn an extra bar of soap for her efforts and gives her exactly two minutes with the water on. She scrubs her skin as hard as she can. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. She has been trapped here for eleven years and two hundred and four days.

And she will get herself out of here. 

0900. She shows up for her shift and is berated for being late. She barely blinks as she stares past the guard yelling at her. He doesn’t matter. 

1300. Lunch. She eats most of her food before standing up and deviating from her usual path to return her tray. This time she stops in front of Lockjaw. 

“Keep moving, scum,” he growls. She knows he’s the bigger wolf, she hasn’t even fully mastered her inner wolf yet. But she’s tall, bringing herself close enough to lift her tray and-

Whack!

She smacks it as hard as she can against that hideous jutting jaw of his. She feels bone crack beneath the tray. She begins to smile at that slight satisfaction before he howls and leaps at her. The other guards hold him back while Caitlyn smiles at his mangled jaw. They won’t touch her, they rarely do. It’s too easy for a wolf to accidentally kill an inmate when they pounce on them. She's seen it happen more than once. However, Caitlyn discovered long ago that for some reason, her captors are determined to keep her alive. For eleven years and two hundred and four days. 

1330. Rather than getting her usual leisure time, she’s hauled to the solitary cells and unceremoniously tossed inside. It’s completely dark. Perfect, some deep instinct in her is telling her to get some rest while she can. 

1600. Dinnertime. The slot in the door opens and a tray is slid onto the floor. She blinks her eyes open, her night vision illuminating the unappetizing meal. Maddie’s deliveries have come with her meals in solitary before. She crawls over to the tray and sniffs it before pawing at what is likely supposed to be mashed potatoes. There. Buried under them her hands wrap around the new tool. She pulls it free, shaking it to loosen any remaining potato before freezing. Better than a new lockpicking tool.

She stares in wonder at the single brass key in her palm. 

She tries to quell the hope in her gut as she quietly moves towards the door to the solitary cell. She leans her head against it and listens for a moment. She doesn’t hear anything, the guard that dropped off the meal must be far enough away that even their footsteps are muffled. 

She takes a deep breath. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. She has been trapped here for eleven years and two hundred and four days. But no more. 

She carefully inserts the key into the lock. It fits like a dream, a soft click echoing through the chamber. She stares in wonder at the now unlocked door before her. 

She could wait until nightfall. She could plan this. Or she could just fucking go while she knows she has the chance. 

She eases the door open, just enough for her to slip through the gap. She may be tall but she has a rather lean figure. She clicks it shut behind her and locks it - it might take them longer to notice she’s gone if they think she’s still locked up nice and tight. She pockets the key.

The guards will all be on rotation in the main blocks or playing cards in their rec room. She knows this map and all of their schedules like the back of her hand. 

1700. Caitlyn Kiramman breathes in the fresh evening air for the first time in eleven years, two hundred and four days. She knows she should take it slow, think about her next move. She lets out a howl that seems to rise from the deepest depths of her soul. A song for the upcoming night that sings of loss and freedom. As her lungs still reverberate from it, she breaks into a sprint, running towards the city, her muscles screaming in joy as they stretch and burn in a way they haven’t since she was a child. 

She sets her sights on the familiar tower that still rises above the city across the river, the windows on the dome glittering in the late afternoon sun. It’s where her mother worked, where she spent most of her time, and if she’s not there then at least a place where she’ll be safe until she can find her. 

Her name is Caitlyn Kiramman. She is a werewolf of Pack Piltover. Her mother serves on the council. She loves shooting even if it’s an uncommon hobby for a wolf. Her favorite color is blue. And she is no one’s prisoner. 

🌙

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Some Mysteries are Better Left Unsolved

🌙

Two sets of legs swing from the ledge idly as the two sisters talk. Vi isn’t sure if anything can heal the chasm between them from ten years ago, but she’ll never stop trying. The wind plays with Powder’s long blue hair, her braids dancing behind her, the heavy sun shining off of them as evening and afternoon war with each other. They don’t have long before they’d be expected to get ready for another one of Silco’s stupid events, but for now, it’s just them and the sky.

“How’s little man?” Vi asks tentatively. She knows her sister and her mate’s dynamic isn’t perfect. A guilty part of her wonders if things would be smoother between the two of them if that night ten years ago hadn’t happened at all. If Vander was still alive and around, and Powder was still just. . . Powder. When they were kids Powder and Ekko got on great, practically inseparable. Powder huffs beside her, staring off into the distance.

“We’re not speaking again. He’s gone off and started a new pack, ya know? And they seem dead set on disrupting Silco’s shipments. I don’t think that would be enough for him to avoid me, except. . .” her voice trails off and Vi finishes for her, already knowing where she’s going.

“You’re the one that Silco usually has defending those shipments.” 

Powder nods and chews on her lower lip.

“I accidentally killed a couple of his new packmates the other day. It just happens sometimes, ya know?” 

Vi didn’t know, she’d never accidentally killed someone. It seemed to happen more often than not for her sister, though, ever since she accidentally took out half of their family in one fell swoop. Each time, Vi forgave her though. She sometimes wonders if there’s a line her little sister could cross that she wouldn’t find a way to forgive. 

“He probably just needs time. Maybe I can ask Silco to switch you off of shipment duty. God knows there’s plenty of other uses for you here,” she responds and means it. 

Powder is brilliant, and Silco wastes her talents by sending her after Ekko and his new Firelights. She doesn’t say that Silco is intentionally stationing Powder there to try and mess with Ekko. As if he thinks Ekko will falter when he sees his mate on the other side of a skirmish. It would be a futile attempt, Powder never listens when Vi points out all the ways their adoptive father is manipulative. No, she was too young when Vander died, all she remembers is Silco’s slippery poison in their ears. 

“Maybe. I don’t know. Mates are complicated,” Powder sighs, propping a foot up on the ledge so she can rest her chin on her knee. 

“Wouldn’t know,” Vi mutters, unable to keep the bitter edge out of her tone. Technically she has seen this prove true time and time again. Being mates hasn’t made it any easier for her sister and Ekko to work things out, and she saw firsthand how complicated Vander and Silco’s relationship was. Being mates isn’t a magic fix for relationship problems, which is why Vi isn't antsy to find hers for any sort of companionship. No, she won’t be able to fully manifest as a wolf until she’s consummated a mating bond, and there’s no way she can challenge Silco and become alpha if she can’t control her damn wolf. To go this long without her mate showing up is not only inconvenient, but also incredibly embarrassing. 

“Hey, wouldn’t make sense if you didn’t have a mate as stubborn as you are, sis,” Powder teases. Vi tries to chuckle but it’s a halfhearted attempt. Powder’s face softens. “I’m sure she’s close, though. Taking her good sweet time, but she’ll show.” 

Somewhere in the distance, across the river, a single howl cuts across the sky. It’s early for any wolves to be making that kind of sound, not to mention lone wolves don’t exist in the city. 

“Weird, that didn’t sound like a Zaunite howl,” Powder mutters, tilting her head towards the echoes of it. Sure the Piltover pack’s still around somewhere, not to mention the new Firelights, but this howl came from deep in Old Zaun territory. Vi doesn’t respond to her sister at first. Something about it stirs in her chest, transfixing her. It was lonely and hopeful and beautiful. She feels the urge to respond in kind, but bites down the instinct. 

“Yeah, it sounds so sweet though,” she admits wistfully, staring off towards Old Zaun, wondering what kind of wolf created such a song. Powder snorts beside her, moving to stand off of the ledge.

“Okay, mate or no mate, you’ve got to get some action. Waxing poetic over a random howl is a new low for you. I can’t have my big sister out here being this pathetic, it’s bad for my image.” 

Vi snaps out of her reverie to huff at her sister. 

“Anyway, I better get going. I’ll see you at the banquet later? Maybe you’ll get luuuucky,” Powder wiggles her brows as she moves to swing off of the ledge. Vi rolls her eyes but fondly watches as she leaps down. 

🌙

Something is very wrong. As soon as she gets across the river, Caitlyn’s instincts are on high alert. It’s not just the threat of recapture or detection. No, she should be safe here by now. This is Piltovan territory, or at least it should be. But the streets smell so distinctly Zaunite. Neon lights and graffiti haunt  structures that should be pristine and gleaming.  Pilt Tower is still easy enough to find, and Caitlyn tilts her head staring up at it. Something still feels off. It doesn’t look the same as she remembers, but perhaps nearly twelve years is a long time to cling to a memory of a place. She shakes her head and looks towards the main doors. Two Zaunite wolves stand guard on either side of them, eyeing Caitlyn suspiciously. Strange. She walks to the service entrance around the back to find it bustling with activity. 

“Oy! You’re late! And what the hell are you wearing?” a voice calls out. Caitlyn turns towards the speaker, a lanky wolf with a mop of yellow hair on his head. She sniffs the air, he’s a Zaunite. She moves through the crowd towards him.

“Sorry,” she says simply. Most wolves can easily detect a lie, and while this one doesn’t seem too intelligent, it’s better not to take an unnecessary risk. She needs to get inside this tower and figure out why everything is different. He shakes his head irritably.

“There are extra uniforms in that supply closet. Get changed, you look like you just escaped from a prison or something,” he scoffs. Caitlyn nods again, hoping he can’t hear the way her heart rate spikes at the perhaps obvious observation. “Once you’re changed, get your ass in gear and into the kitchens.” She tails it towards the supply closet, eager to ditch her prison clothes. She rummages through the options until she finds a uniform close enough to her size, albeit a bit snug. She smoothes her hand over the white frills of the top before adjusting the matching blue skirt. She groans inwardly. She hadn’t even liked wearing skirts when she was a child. But perhaps escaped prisoners stealing clothes out of a supply closet can’t be too choosy. She runs a hand through her loose hair to try and calm it before emerging from the supply closet, quickly finding the nearest trash receptacle to dump her old clothes into. 

Luckily she spent enough time in this tower as a child to be able to find the kitchens again. Humans and wolves run around frantically inside, the air thick with the smell of fresh food. Caitlyn’s stomach rumbles, likely not only from her forgotten dinner, but when was the last time she smelled real food like this? She shakes it away, now is not the time to indulge. 

“You look more stable than most of this lead footed lot, take this tray and don’t come back until it’s empty,” a wolf in a crisp uniform snaps at her. Caitlyn silently accepts the tray of champagne glasses and follows the other servers carrying trays, a motley mix of humans and wolves. They lead her to a service elevator, and then up to the council chambers. Her heart is racing out of her chest, and she’s sure any nearby wolves can hear it. But this is it, her mother might be through those doors and she’ll finally be home. Even if this tower reeks of Zaun, surely it’s a diplomatic event like that one. . . that one eleven years two hundred and four days ago. 

The attendants by the large doors push them open for the servers and Caitlyn takes a deep breath. 

She feels the floor fall out from underneath her feet, the glasses on her tray clinking together precariously. There’s not a single member of her pack here. The entire council chamber is filled with Zaunite wolves milling about as if they own the space. She blinks furiously, a furrow in her brow as she tries to understand what is going on. 

“Hey, it looks like you could use a hand,” a kind voice says from beside her, a sturdy hand moving to help stabilize the wobbling tray. Caitlyn looks at the wolf that’s come to her aid. Tall, but not quite as tall as her, a strong, muscular build, intricate tattoos barely visible winding underneath the red jacket she wears, a shock of bright pink hair and silver eyes staring at her. Drop dead gorgeous. So handsome that Caitlyn’s breath hitches. Most importantly though, she’s Zaunite. Just like practically every single wolf here. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” the woman asks, stepping back once the tray doesn’t seem at risk of falling any longer. Caitlyn scoffs and pulls her gaze away.

“Doubtful.”

“Have you worked one of these events before?” the stranger persists. Caitlyn straightens and accepts the lifeline.

“Yes, I often work as a waiter-tress, a server,” she says. The woman studies her carefully, and Caitlyn is sure she’s caught the lie. This woman is no fool, like the blond man downstairs. No, this wolf is clearly powerful, and the last thing Caitlyn needs is a powerful Zaunite sniffing out her lies. “Unless you’d like a drink, I should make my rounds.” She moves to step away before a strong hand grabs her wrist while the other makes sure the tray stays steady from the sudden movement. Caitlyn stares down at it. She’s spent the last eleven years two hundred and four days recoiling from contact from anyone, either human or wolf, yet the grip isn’t firm. There’s something distinctly gentle about this wolf that seems at odds with her gruff exterior.

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name.” 

Caitlyn stares at the wolf’s hand as it releases her while her mind catches up to the question. Neither Caitlyn Kiramman, escaped Stillwater inmate, nor Inmate 516 are good answers to give. 

“Uh, my name is. . . Matilda,” she stammers. The pink haired wolf smirks at this.

“Matilda?” she repeats, disbelief evident in her tone.

“Yes, my parents named me Matilda. After my, uh, my great grandmother Matilda. The pirate,” she cringes inwardly. She hasn’t had anyone ask this many questions of her in too long and clearly is out of practice. The other wolf snorts. 

“Right, because werewolves make such great pirates,” she points out. 

“She was human,” Caitlyn corrects quickly. At this the other wolf leans close into her space, speaking low so only Caitlyn can hear her next words.

“You smell like a wolf with a pedigree, I’ll eat my socks if there’s a drop of human blood in you.”

She isn’t sure if it’s an observation or a threat but a shiver runs down her spine regardless. 

“Okay, you caught me. This is my first night on the job and I’d rather not get reprimanded so please let me go unless you’d like to empty this tray yourself.”

The wolf lets her move away this time, watching her curiously.

“My name is Vi, by the way,” she calls after her in greeting. Caitlyn huffs and carefully mills through the crowd, eavesdropping as carefully as she has for eleven years two hundred and four days. She’s always been singularly focused. It’s what allowed her to excel in whatever she set her mind to when she was younger. One doesn’t win the trophies that she had by age eleven with a scattered mind. Yet this evening her attention seems constantly pulled towards a certain ridiculously attractive nosy werewolf in a red jacket. Each time she catches the wolf still watching her with that curious expression, as if Caitlyn is a missing piece to a puzzle that’s been troubling her. Or perhaps she senses that Caitlyn shouldn’t be here. A dangerous revelation this early in the evening. She focuses on gathering information from the less observant guests.

There’s much talk of Zaun. Monikers Caitlyn isn’t familiar with - “New Zaun”, “Old Zaun”, “Shimmer”. And Silco’s name seems to be on everyone’s lips, a testament to Caitlyn’s willpower as she maintains her neutral facade each time her captor’s name comes up in idle conversation. But despite being deep in Piltover territory, her pack doesn’t seem to be of any concern to any of the Zaunites in the room. 

A familiar scent catches her attention, snapping her gaze across the room. 

Sevika enters, the dark look on her face matched by the anger permeating her scent. Caitlyn quickly ducks deeper into the crowd, trying to blend in. If there’s one person here that’s certain to recognize her, it’s the burly woman with a mechanical arm that has been a mainstay of her imprisonment since day zero. 

“Sev seems even broodier than usual,” a thin she-wolf with long white hair and a face filled with silver piercings remarks as she sips her full glass of champagne. The wolf beside her leans in with a smirk. He’s tall but broad shouldered, half of his head shaved, the other half sporting chin length black hair, and his face is covered with intricate tattoos.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but apparently there was a jailbreak at Still Water earlier. I’ve heard Sevika has been running around the city tracking the scent.” 

Caitlyn’s blood runs cold. It shouldn’t be a surprise, of course a wolf would be tracking her scent. But she thought she’d have more time before they caught up to her. After all, the city is full of different lupine scents, intermingling with one another. 

“Well, what’s she doing here then? As if a convict would escape Stillwater and decide to make a showing at Silco’s soiree of the month,” the first chembaron laughs. 

Caitlyn weaves through the crowd, abandoning her nearly empty tray on the first table she passes and steps out onto the nearest balcony. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her mind has been her most consistent tool for the last eleven years and two hundred and four days, it’ll come up with a solution for her. She can just flee the event, Sevika will no doubt take some time investigating why she smelled her here. That might buy her enough time to find a way out of the city.

“Rough first night?” a familiar voice husks. Caitlyn opens her eyes to see the nosy wolf watching her again. The moon has risen by this point in the night, a delicate crescent hanging above them. Vi’s eyes seem to glow even more silver under it. Caitlyn curses the way it catches her attention. 

“I’ve had worse,” she mutters. 

“Most of the crowd here is insufferable,” Vi retorts. Caitlyn tilts her head. “But here, I could hear your stomach growling across the room so I grabbed this for you.” She presents an offering of appetizers wrapped neatly in a napkin. While the food in Stillwater was barely palatable, it was still a precious resource hoarded by inmates. Caitlyn briefly hesitates before accepting them, her hunger getting the best of her. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before folding the napkin neatly and tilting her head at the other wolf again. 

“I suppose you’re implying that you’re the exception?” she asks. Vi smirks at this, casting Caitlyn a playful glance as she leans against the wall beside her. 

“Or maybe that you are.”

“Right, because I’ve been so sweet to you,” Caitlyn snorts. Vi’s smirk turns into a smile at this.

“Yup, sweet like a cupcake,” she croons, before adding, “But definitely the most interesting person here at least.” 

Caitlyn rolls her eyes.

“Most interesting? We really have descended into anarchy. Is that because everyone else here is so far up Silco’s arse-” 

Before she can finish her sentence Vi is pushing her further against the wall, a hand covering her mouth as her silver eyes dart towards the door before locking onto Caitlyn again.

“You can’t talk about our alpha like that,” Vi snarls. “I don’t mind but if any other wolf heard that they would eat you alive.” Caitlyn blinks in surprise, watching her carefully. Once Vi seems certain Caitlyn isn’t going to bite back, she lowers her hand and takes a deep breath. Caitlyn catches the way she swallows as her eyes dart momentarily to Caitlyn’s mouth. The proximity of the moment has slightly elevated the other wolf’s heart rate. Caitlyn would be lying if she denied feeling a similar effect as the other wolf’s scent lingers on her. Her scent.

“Maybe you’re also the most interesting person here,” she murmurs as an idea starts to form in her mind. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

Vi seems taken aback by the question, but quickly recovers, tilting her head curiously to the side.

“Aren’t you working?” she points out. Caitlyn shrugs.

“Not anymore.” 

A small smile tugs at the edge of Vi’s lips, and Caitlyn tries to ignore how adorable it is. 

“Yeah, Cupcake, let’s get out of here,” she agrees, reaching for Caitlyn’s hand. Caitlyn accepts it tentatively, staring curiously as Vi leads her towards an exit. The gesture feels both foreign and familiar in a way she can’t place. 

🌙

Vi leads her through the streets of Piltover. The moon still hangs high in the sky, and the evening air is fresh despite the strong scent of Zaunites lingering about. Caitlyn freezes, dropping Vi’s hand as they turn a corner and the next block is nothing but a pile of rubble. The large chunks of stone are covered in bright graffiti that seems to glow under the silver moonlight and neon lights illuminating the district. Caitlyn feels her eyes start burning at the sight. She hasn’t let herself cry since year one. It didn’t help her then and she doubts it’ll help her now.

Vi turns at the loss of contact and watches Caitlyn for a moment, glancing between her and the pile of rubble.

“I don’t know why it was never cleaned up,” she says softly. 

“What happened?” Caitlyn asks, her voice cracking. Vi shrugs, stepping close. 

“I’m not really sure. I guess some inventor was throwing a party and one of his inventions blew up. Took out several important Pilties.” 

Caitlyn visibly flinches at this, kneeling in front of the rubble. She traces a graffitied stone with her hand, the dust gritty against her fingertips.

“And the inventor?” 

Her voice is so hushed she’s not sure Vi hears her at first, but the other wolf kneels next to her instead.

“Arrested, I think. Did you know him?” 

Caitlyn shakes her head and stands up, brushing off her stolen skirt. She takes a deep breath and offers a small smile to Vi.

“I didn’t mean to kill the mood, let’s go,” she says. Vi frowns. 

“You didn’t. You’re allowed to feel things, it’s a sad story. I mean, it feels like nothing in this city has really been the same since that night.” 

Caitlyn narrows her eyes at her, tilting her head slightly until Vi sighs and keeps moving towards a residential part of the city. Caitlyn follows, casting a lingering glance behind her. As they pass an unscathed building near it, with a single door to the lower level she fights to keep her heart rate from spiking. She’s safe, she’s free. She is not a child bound and gagged on the floor anymore.

🌙

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: When These Walls Come Tumbling Down

🌙

Vi opens the door to the Piltover apartment, gesturing for Caitlyn to step in. She does, taking a careful look around. The building’s architecture may be Piltovan, but the interior is very much Zaunite. Caitlyn has to admit, it has a rather cozy feel that she rarely saw in Piltovan design. The door clicks behind her as Vi closes it after stepping in herself and she remembers why she is here. 

She turns on the other wolf, pushing her up against the door as she nuzzles into her neck. Vi gasps in surprise but her hands rise, latching onto Caitlyn’s hips and pulling her closer. Caitlyn purrs in contentment at the contact. She’s here for one purpose, but she can’t deny the sense of safety she feels under those broad hands. She moves to nuzzle the other side of her neck, marking as much of her scent onto the other wolf as she can. 

“Damn, Cupcake,” Vi’s voice is a low growl in her throat and heat flares in Caitlyn’s gut. She can smell the other wolf’s arousal, which only fuels hers more. 

“Don’t call me that,” she mutters in response as she licks along Vi’s pulse point, causing her to squirm against her.

“Well I’m sure as hell not going to call you Matilda,” she gasps as Caitlyn nips at her. Caitlyn pulls back to look into those silver eyes and for a moment she contemplates saying her real name. She wants to tell her everything. Vi looks back at her, breathing heavier now. Caitlyn’s gaze lowers to Vi’s mouth, a small scar pulling on her upper lip. She usually separates sex and kissing. She never kissed Maddie, or any of the guards she would fuck. And she doesn’t need to kiss Vi to mark her with her scent.

But as she stares at those lips, she realizes she desperately wants to. As if some inner instinct is telling her to claim every part of the wolf in front of her. She leans forward, barely an inch from Vi’s face now, one of her hands coming up to cup her cheek. Vi watches her in anticipation, her breath ghosting over Caitlyn’s face as those gray eyes drill into her with an intensity that sends a shiver down her spine.

She leans in further and takes a deep breath before letting her lips gently brush Vi’s - just once, then twice before pulling away to see if this is okay. Before she has a moment to doubt, Vi’s arms rise to wrap around her back, pulling her into her again and those scarred lips capture her own. This kiss isn’t delicate, it’s messy and desperate, as if they’ve been waiting years to kiss, not moments. Caitlyn surprises herself by humming in pleasure as she pulls herself closer to the other wolf. Vi pushes her vest off of her shoulders and it clatters to the floor behind them. It’s short work for the white dress shirt to follow quickly after and Vi stares for a moment at Caitlyn’s bare chest.

She’s been seen naked by plenty of people. All of the inmates at the showers, all of the guards, yet no one has ever looked at her like this. Vi is staring at her like she’s a work of art, as if she hung the moon in the sky herself. Caitlyn ignores the way it tugs at her heart and moves forward to push Vi’s jacket off, then her own dress shirt, revealing more of the intricate tattoos dancing across her muscular build. She doesn’t have long to admire the new view before Vi is pulling her into another messy kiss, wrapping her arms around her and flipping them so now Caitlyn is flush against the wall. 

Caitlyn gasps in surprise. Normally she’s leading her encounters, she’s the one giving pleasure in exchange for something in return. Nothing is given freely in Stillwater. Vi’s hand brushes at the hem of her skirt, hesitating for a moment before pushing past it. 

“Is this okay?” she murmurs as her fingers hover just above where she now desperately wants them. Caitlyn doesn’t have words, she nods quickly, grabbing the wolf’s wrist to pull her closer as she brings their lips together again for another sloppy kiss. Vi’s fingers finally move through her folds and Caitlyn gasps into her mouth. Something inside of her, some instinct, preens at the contact. Vi’s fingers play with her clit for a moment before slipping further, first one, then two fingers inside of her. 

A small whimper escapes her and she begins to ride Vi’s fingers, separating their lips so she can nip and nibble at her neck again. She inhales deeply, letting the other wolf’s heady scent fill her lungs, almost intoxicated on it. Vi keeps up a quick pace, thrusting her fingers within her, using her other arm to hold her securely. She moves the heel of her palm to rub over Caitlyn’s clit again and she lets out an involuntary howl as the pleasure crests and erupts. Vi works her through it as Caitlyn’s pleasure runs down her hand, her walls clenching around broad fingers. 

Caitlyn is just catching her breath before Vi’s hand is pulling itself free and those scarred lips are dusting kisses down her neck, to her collarbone, pausing at her chest to lavish her tongue over a nipple while her free hand moves from her back to play with the other one. Caitlyn arches her back against the wall, staring as the strange wolf worships her body. She releases the nipple as she begins her journey of kissing down Caitlyn’s body, her other hand continuing to cup a breast. 

She gets on her knees, staring up at Caitlyn with that look of awe still on her face as she peels the stolen skirt down until it pools around her ankles. She reverently lifts one of Caitlyn’s feet so she can prop her leg over a broad tattooed shoulder. She can’t pull her gaze away from those silver eyes that continue to stare at her as she presses a kiss to the top of Caitlyn’s vulva. Her breath hitches.

Vi pushes her face further between Caitlyn’s legs and a keening whine escapes her lips as her body erupts in pleasure once again. Vi’s tongue laps greedily at Caitlyn’s center, as if she’s a wolf starved. Caitlyn slams her head back against the wall behind her, gasping in pleasure as her hands reach down to tangle into pink locks. She holds onto Vi as if she’s a lifeline as she begins to fall apart once again. The other wolf anchors her with sturdy hands on her hips as she begins to rock into her. 

It’s not long before she’s howling as she climaxes again. Once more, Vi works her through it until she’s panting for breath. Vi slowly stands, her chin and lips glistening deliciously as she meets Caitlyn’s eyes again.

And every single instinct in Caitlyn tells her to claim this wolf, to devour her in turn. Vi’s eyes widen before Caitlyn is kicking her skirt away and pushing towards Vi, a deep growl low in her throat. She moves them towards the couch and bends Vi forward, over the arm rest. She yanks so hard on the other wolf’s pants she’s certain she hears a tear. She pulls back to survey the damage.

“Sorry about that,” she murmurs. Vi looks back at her over her shoulder, her eyes dark.

“I don’t fucking care,” her voice is husky with want and it snaps something in Caitlyn. She lavishes sloppy kisses along Vi’s ears, the back of her neck, her broad shoulders as she runs a hand up those muscular sides, delighting in the divots of her abs before a hand snakes around to cup a breast. Vi moans at the contact, the sound sending Caitlyn even further into her frenzy. Her free hand moves to the front of Vi’s thighs before rising higher, making their way past a thatch of coarse hair. She collects some of the wetness pooled at her apex before gently circling her clit. 

She removes her fingers, the loss of contact eliciting a low whine from Vi. The hand on her breast teases at her nipple as her fingers ghost across her entrance from behind. She takes a moment to steady her feet, using her hips to make sure Vi is securely bent over the couch before inserting two fingers. 

A small howl escapes Vi as Caitlyn’s fingers fill her, her inner wolf delighting in the warm feel of her. 

“Oh Janna, baby, please,” Vi begs. Caitlyn keeps her fingers still, as she moves her other hand from Vi’s breast to the small of her back, splaying it firmly. She dips down low, close to Vi’s ear, relishing in the way her breath sends a shiver down the other wolf’s spine.

“Do you want me to fuck you like this, Vi?” she growls into her ear. Vi lets out another whine.

“Yes, fuck me just like this.”

That’s all Caitlyn needs to hear before she starts moving her fingers, working Vi up from behind with a brutal pace. Caitlyn needs her, her inner wolf is practically feral within her for this strange pink haired woman. The sounds Vi’s making practically drive Caitlyn delirious with lust as she pushes harder and faster into her. She can feel as she gets closer to her climax, panting and howling as her face buries into the couch cushions, her thighs starting to clench around Caitlyn’s hand. She moves her other hand from the small of her back and leans against her as she begins to rub at her clit. 

It’s all that Vi needs to fully fall over the edge. Wetness runs down Caitlyn’s hand as Vi lets out a sinful howl into the night. Caitlyn doesn’t give her a reprieve, her inner wolf still foaming at the mouth for more of this woman. She immediately drops to her knees to begin licking up all of the wetness, using both hands now to securely grip Vi’s hips in place against the couch. 

“Cupcake?” Vi’s voice is thin, her want and pleasure laced through it like a drug that’s nearly as intoxicating as her scent. As soon as Caitlyn’s tongue begins lapping up at her sensitive folds Vi lets out another high pitched whine, only driving Caitlyn further. 

She had thought she was starving at the banquet when Vi brought her food. But now she thinks perhaps this is what she’s been craving her entire life. Vi cries out at the contact as Caitlyn hungrily eats her out, eager to devour every last drop of the woman bent over in front of her. Vi’s cries begin to muffle as she pushes herself further into the couch cushions. Caitlyn grips her hips firmly, helping secure her as her legs begin to quake with sensation. Caitlyn growls into the contact, desperate for more of her, and another whimper escapes Vi at the vibration of the sound against her. 

She comes with a roar and as her pleasure runs down Caitlyn’s cheeks and chin and as she eagerly laps it up, she feels something within her snap into place. Her inner wolf purrs in contentment as if some primal urge or desire has finally been satisfied. 

She stands up, watching as Vi catches her breath, smushed into the couch. She turns her head to look over her shoulder, giving her a strange look that Caitlyn can’t read. 

“Water?” she finally asks. Caitlyn laughs as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Yes please.”

“Mmmkay, just give me a moment to find my legs again.”

🌙

“What will it take for you to tell me your real name?” Vi asks, curled up on her side, watching Caitlyn. Caitlyn hums, looking at the ceiling for a moment before rolling to face Vi. After hydrating and eating they’d ended up tangled up together between the sheets, barely able to keep their hands off of each other once more pressing needs had been tended to. Now she feels fully satiated and strangely content as she lay in a real bed for the first time in years.

“For us to go back eleven years two hundred and,” she pauses to glance at the clock hanging over the door, “five days.” Confusion briefly flits across that handsome face, but she must sense this isn’t something Caitlyn will budge on. Her face falls slightly and she curls more into herself.

“If we figure out how to do that there’s a lot of things I have to fix,” she says softly, squeezing her eyes shut. Caitlyn frowns at the pain on her face, a hand involuntarily reaching out to cup her cheek. At the contact Vi’s eyes flutter open again, studying Caitlyn closely.

“My parents died when I was young. Back when this was all Piltie territory and Zaun only had the lower levels across the river. They were part of this effort to take the bridge and try to gain more territory for our pack. It was a bloodbath, nearly all the wolves involved died. But my parents were good friends with our alpha and his mate, so they took us in and raised me and my little sister alongside their own pups,” Vi begins slowly, her hand raising up to cup Caitlyn’s on her face, holding it close and inhaling the scent of her as she talks. Caityn goes still, transfixed as she listens, taken aback by the honesty. She hopes the other wolf doesn’t notice the way her heart rate spikes at the mention of the Zaun alphas.

“Things were good for awhile. Well, as good as things could be for a bunch of Zaunite orphans back then. In case you don’t know, the pack was pretty poor at that time, crammed into a territory way too small for all of us and hardly enough to go around. But Vander was a good alpha, he cared and he treated me and Powder like we were his own pups. I know him and Silco didn’t always get along, they would fight about how to lead the pack. But there was one day when it seemed the fighting got even worse, they could hardly be in the same room with each other.”

Caitlyn fights to keep her breathing steady as Vi so casually talks about her captors, worse she talks about Vander with reverence and love. As if someone can kidnap a pup and still be a good man. If Vi notices Caitlyn’s anger thrumming under her calm veneer, she doesn’t show it. She continues telling her story, still clutching Caitlyn’s hand as if it’s a lifeline. 

“It finally reached a boiling point about ten years ago. I don’t even know who started it, but they were both in wolf form going after each other when I found them. The kind of lupine anger that would tear each other apart. I didn’t know mates could even fight like that, I haven’t seen it since. They were going for the kill. I panicked, I was a dumb teenager and terrified of losing another parent. I tried to intervene and it all went to shit. Silco didn’t seem to care that I was there, Vander hesitated, and Powder - my sister-  she panicked that she was going to lose the only family she had left. 

“She’s always been tinkering, she’s absolutely brilliant. I think we could rival Piltover’s progress if Silco fucking utilized her for what she’s worth, but she had this new invention that she thought might break the fight up. Instead it blew up. Badly. Both of our brothers got caught in the blast. Sevika - that’s our second, she chose to protect Silco over Vander and lost her arm. It never healed properly. And Vander chose to protect me. 

“In one fell swoop I lost my dad and both of my brothers. And in a way I think I lost my sister too. I, well, I snapped. When I realized what had happened, well, there are some things we can’t take back, you know? Silco tried to drive a wedge between us after that, he still takes every opportunity to distance her from me that he can. She doesn’t see how terrible he is and every time I try to make her she pulls further away.”

She pauses to take a deep breath, staring into Caitlyn’s eyes.

“Anyways, if we go back eleven years two hundred and five days I guess I can learn your real name and maybe save my family too,” she finishes, blinking furiously. Against her better judgement Caitlyn curls closer to her, holding her face with both hands now. 

“Vi, just because you’d do things differently doesn’t mean that what happened is your fault,” she says before leaning in for a kiss. This kiss is different from the ones before. It’s tender and soft and Vi sighs into her, letting all of the tension she had held during her story out in that one exhale. 

“I don’t even know if my family is alive,” Caitlyn admits when they finally separate. And your family is the reason why. Vi furrows her brow questioningly. 

“We were separated a long time ago and I thought I’d find them here,” she explains. 

“If you’re looking for the Piltie Pack they’re still around. They lost most of the city proper but I think they’re still holed up in the countryside where all their fancy mansions are.” 

Caitlyn sucks in a breath as her eyes widen.

“How did you know I’m Piltovan?” she asks, frowning. Vi huffs but it has no bite, it almost sounds affectionate. 

“Everything about you screams Piltovan, your accent, your presence, your scent,” she explains. The edges of Caitlyn’s eyes burn again.

“I still smell like my pack?” 

Vi hums as she nuzzles into her neck, breathing in the scent of her. Caitlyn lets her lay there, letting their scents mingle further, holding the Zaunite wolf closely as she hears her heart rate and breathing slow. Caitlyn feels the temptation of sleep tugging at her own consciousness, but shakes it away. She can’t let her guard down now, not with Sevika still chasing her scent.

She carefully extracts herself from Vi’s arms, and watches for a moment to make sure she doesn’t stir. When she’s certain the wolf is still deeply asleep, she leans forward, sweeping some of her pink hair back.

“My name is Caitlyn,” she whispers before turning away to collect Vi’s clothes and disappear back into the night.

🌙