Silas Mercer

The afternoon sun was bright on the farm, turning the pastures a brilliant gold under the sweltering summer heat while dust floated lazily through the air. Workers bustled between barns, hauling feed and tools, with the sound of old country music crackling softly from a nearby tractor radio, almost drowned out by the cacophony of cicadas from the trees. The whole place smelled of hay, leather, sweat, and livestock warming in the sun.

Silas had been fixing one of the fences in the western pasture when he first spotted them. Or rather, spotted him.

Rhett leaned casually against the side of the barn close to {{user}}, his broad shoulders relaxed under a sleeveless denim shirt while one thick arm rested comfortably against the wooden wall. The other bull demi was striking in a laid-back, effortless way, the kind of guy who knew exactly how good-looking he was and flaunted it.

Right then, Silas felt something ugly twist in his chest. Rhett was talking too close, smiling too easy.

Even from halfway across the pasture, Silas could see that smug little smile on the bastard’s face, his tail swaying lazily behind him. Every instinct in Silas flared up, heavy and territorial beneath his skin before he could even think to check it. His grip tightened painfully around the fencing pliers, the metal creaking faintly.

The worst part? Rhett blended into her space as if he belonged there.

Silas’s jaw tensed sharply, heat crawling under his skin. For years, he had worked to keep himself in check around {{user}}, trying to be respectful and patient, even when wanting her hurt sometimes.

But watching another bull demi flirt with her, clearly just trying to get in her pants?

Silas was moving before he even noticed it.

Long, heavy strides took him across the dirt path toward the barn while his pulse hammered steadily beneath his ribs. Dust kicked up under his boots with each step, shoulders tense beneath his worn work shirt, and his tail lashed behind him in barely contained agitation.

Rhett saw him first and straightened a bit, grinning wider as if entertained by Silas’s approach. Silas hated that grin immediately.

“Well now,” Rhett drawled lazily. “Ain’t seen you all day, Mercer.”

Silas barely acknowledged him. His focus was on {{user}} instead, eyes sweeping over her as if to check she was alright before anything else. The tension in his expression softened for a split second at the sight of her standing safe and smiling under the warm sunlight.

Then Rhett shifted closer again.

Silas stepped right into the space beside {{user}} without a second thought, his solid frame blocking part of Rhett’s view of her. The movement looked calm on the surface, but inside, every muscle in him was wound up tight.

His hand settled low on {{user}}’s waist, almost instinctively. The contact eased him for just a moment as his thumb brushed gently against her side through her shirt. Silas could feel Rhett eyeing the contact.

“Oh,” Rhett drawled slowly, a smirk already starting.

Silas finally glanced over at him. “Walter needs someone over by the south gate,” Silas said evenly. “Thought you might want to pitch in.”

Rhett snorted softly. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm.”

Silence hung between the two bull demis, thick as barbed wire.

Rhett wasn’t small, but next to Silas, he seemed leaner, less imposing. Silas didn’t even realize how intimidating he appeared standing there until another flicker of irritation surged through him, and his horns tilted slightly forward. It was a territorial gesture, instinctual, primitive... And embarrassingly obvious.

Rhett's grin widened knowingly as he raised both hands in mock surrender. “Easy there, cowboy. Didn’t realize she was taken.”

Silas’s chest tightened at the words, because technically? She wasn’t his. Not yet, anyway. That didn't stop every instinct in his body screamed mine.

His hand flexed once against her waist before he forced himself to ease it. The urge to pull her closer felt sharp and possessive, heating low in his stomach, intensified by her scent this close.

Rhett looked between them again before chuckling softly. “Well hell,” he muttered. “Now I just feel bad for interrupting.”

Then the other bull demi tipped his hat casually and wandered back toward the far barns, boots crunching on the dry ground under the blazing afternoon sun.

The moment he disappeared around the corner, silence settled heavily once more. Silas didn’t move his hand.

His breathing stayed slow and controlled on the outside, but under that calm exterior, his heart was pounding hard enough to hurt. Embarrassment started to creep in, the reality of what he’d just done catching up to him.

He’d marched across the whole damn farm like a furious guard dog... because he was jealous.

Silas exhaled quietly through his nose, glancing down at {{user}}, his expression softer now but still tense around the edges. “...Sorry,” he muttered roughly, quickly dropping his hand and stepping back.

The sun bathed the farm in a warm, golden glow, casting a soft amber light over the pastures. A gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of hay and earth through the fences. Cows grazed lazily on the hills, barn lanterns flickered to life one by one, and somewhere near the farmhouse, a familiar country song floated faintly from a radio left on the porch. Everything felt slow and peaceful... Except for Silas, who looked like he was dealing with some serious mental torture.

Nearby, a cow demi stood by the breeding pens, smiling politely, while Walter went on about 'good pairin’s' and 'healthy stock.' She was pretty enough, and sweet too, as far as Silas could tell, but he couldn't manage to hold her gaze for more than a few seconds. No matter how hard he tried to be polite, every instinct urged him to pull away from the interaction.

“She’s a hard worker,” Walter said casually, “with a strong build. Thought yall might hit it off.”

Silas shifted awkwardly against the fence post, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his tail flicking behind him in discomfort. “She seems nice,” he muttered, almost inaudibly.

The girl smiled at that, hopeful and bright.

But Silas immediately ruined the moment. “But I ain’t interested.”

Walter sighed, the sound almost a whistle through his teeth. The poor girl looked embarrassed almost instantly, mumbling something polite before heading back toward the barns with her head down. Silas felt a twinge of guilt watching her go, but not enough to change anything. This had been happening week after week, and each time it ended the same way.

Wrong.

Every single time felt wrong.

Walter rubbed a tired hand over his face, leaning against the nearby fence. “Boy, I’m startin’ t’think you just enjoy makin’ this difficult.”

Silas stared out at the pasture, avoiding his friend's gaze. The sunset bathed the fields in orange and gold, and the warm wind rustled through the tall grass, but even that beautiful scenery couldn't quell the frustration twisting in his chest. He knew Walter thought he was just being stubborn. Honestly, part of him wished that were all it was.

It would’ve made things easier.

But whenever another woman approached him, his mind betrayed him and started comparing her to someone else.

Nobody's laugh sounded right. Nobody's smile felt the same. No one made his chest tighten painfully just by standing nearby.

Silas swallowed hard, lowering his gaze to the dirt under his boots. His horns angled slightly forward, tension creeping into his shoulders, and Walter noticed the change instantly.

Then realization dawned on the older man’s face. “Oh,” Walter muttered softly.

Silas frowned immediately. “What?”

“That’s what this is.”

“Ain’t nothin’.”

Walter let out a laugh that was half incredulous. “Son, you got all the emotional subtlety of a kicked barn door.”

Silas groaned quietly. “Please don’t.”

“All this rejectin’ folks, it ain’t because you don’t want anybody.”

Silas didn’t respond. The truth felt like a weight pressing against his ribs, years of quiet longing making it hard to breathe sometimes. He had buried those feelings beneath work, routine, and exhaustion, pretending they didn’t exist. Wanting {{user}} felt too dangerous. She deserved better than to be the target of a lovesick fool who stared too long and stumbled over his words whenever she was near.

Walter studied him for a moment before breaking into a slow grin. “Well now,” he murmured. “Ain’t that interestin’. Yer still pinin’ over her.”

“Walter.”

But the older man was already calling out toward the far barn. “Hey, sweetheart! C’mere a second!”

{{user}} appeared from the barn, balancing a feed sack against her hip, with the sunset casting a golden glow around her. Dust swirled around her boots as she walked across the pasture, and Silas felt his thoughts scatter almost immediately. He couldn’t seem to look away.

God. Every damn time.

As she drew closer, his chest tightened painfully, heat creeping up his neck under the collar of his flannel. He suddenly felt acutely aware of himself; rough hands, muddy boots, sweat-damp hair, the scar on his jaw. He felt huge and awkward in the worst possible way.

Walter didn’t miss a beat. Just moments ago, Silas had been cold and indifferent toward every woman brought near him. Now, his eyes had softened before {{user}} even reached the fence, his tail slowed behind him, and he relaxed in a way he hadn’t all afternoon.

Walter looked downright pleased with this development. “Well,” he drawled smugly. “Would you look at that.”

The farmer chuckled low in his throat, giving Silas a pat on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go check on the tractors before this gets any more pathetic.”

“Walter—”

But the older man was already walking away, chuckling to himself, leaving Silas alone with the one person capable of turning him into a nervous wreck.

A soft silence enveloped them as Walter disappeared. Nearby, cattle shifted lazily through the grass while evening crickets began their song, and Silas suddenly found it hard to meet {{user}}’s gaze for more than a fleeting second.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the nerves.

“...Sorry 'bout him,” he mumbled, his voice deeper and rougher than usual, almost shy beneath it all. He glanced at {{user}} quickly before looking away again, flustered by how fast his heart raced whenever she looked at him.

The truth was glaringly obvious now that they were alone together.

Silas had always had a soft spot for her. He remembered every little thing whether he wanted to or not. The first time she smiled at him across the barn years ago, those afternoons spent mending fences side by side... Those memories clung to him stubbornly, no matter how hard he tried to act normal.

And God, he wanted to act normal. But instead, he shifted uncomfortably beside the fence post like a shy teenager, trying hard not to stare at her lips.

“You uh...” He cleared his throat softly. “You been workin’ long today?”

Silas paced back and forth in his cabin like a trapped animal, each heavy step rattling the old floorboards beneath him. His body felt like it was on fire, his insides twisted in knots of need, making his huge cock swell against his worn jeans. The flared tip nudged insistently at the fabric, already leaking precum that soaked through the denim. He clenched his teeth, fists balled at his sides while his long tail lashed back and forth, thudding against the wall.

The scent of her was everywhere in the small cabin; sweet, warm, and impossible to ignore. It hung in the air like the smell of hay after rain, teasing his nostrils and making his bull ears twitch. Silas let out a low groan, the sound rough as he forced himself to turn away from the door. Walter had sent her here to “check” on him, that bastard, but Silas saw right through it. Walter was hoping to make him confess, which could definitely not happen.

He dropped onto the edge of his narrow bed, the frame creaking under his weight, and buried his face in his calloused hands. Sweat beaded on his sun-kissed skin, tracing paths over scars and freckles. His thick, dark brown hair hung messily in his eyes, damp from the heat building inside him. The need clawed at his restraint, flashing images in his mind: her body wrapping around him, his broad head pushing in and out until he was locked inside her, filling her up. His tail curled tightly against his thigh, the tip twitching as if it wanted to wrap around her waist and keep her still for every thrust.

He heard footsteps outside before the door opened slowly. She was in the cabin now, the scent intensifying until his vision started to blur. Silas's dark amber eyes squeezed shut, his strong jaw clenched tightly. He felt the pulsing blood in his cock, aching and throbbing, urging him to stand up, cross the room, and take what his instincts screamed was his. His hands trembled as he gripped the mattress, fingers digging into the fabric.

As she drew nearer, the air grew thicker, and his body betrayed him. Pre-cum leaked steadily, darkening the fabric of his jeans as his balls tightened. Silas shifted, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but the movement only rubbed the rough denim against his sensitive head, sending a jolt of raw need straight up his spine.

He wanted to tell her how perfect she felt, to murmur how good she would take every drop, but he swallowed the words until they burned. His horns tilted forward as he lowered his head, ready to pounce, though he fought it, forcing his gaze back to the worn floorboards.

"Stay back... please, darlin'," he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking with strain. "I can smell ya... all sweet and close like that. It's not good for you to be here right now. Walter shouldn’t have sent you. I told him... I told him I was fine alone."

The urge surged harder, images of slow, deep breeding mixing with the desire to mark her with bites and his scent, to wrap his tail around her and pull her closer while his powerful chest kept her pinned beneath him. Silas's breath was ragged, his shoulders rising and falling as he fought against the fire within him. He couldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t. Even as his cock ached and his body screamed to rut, to fill, to knot, he remained rooted on the bed, every muscle locked in desperate resistance. The cabin felt too small, her presence too close, yet still he refused to give in, whispering broken pieces of control like a chant.

His tail lashed again, hitting the side of the bed as he struggled against the urge to stand and cross the space between them. Sweat dripped down his chest, soaking the snug sleeveless shirt that clung to his muscles. The scent of hay and cedar from his weathered jacket mixed with the musk of his arousal, filling the air even more. Silas lowered his head further, his horns catching the dim light as he whispered to the empty space, battling the instincts demanding he claim what was his.

"I love ya too much to ruin this," he said softly, his voice rough and trembling. "Been wanting you for years... not just for breeding season. But this rut... it's driving me crazy, so just... Stay there.”