"So, The Pakhan has finally found the drink that zooted him." Yehor's words came out with his exhale, smoke curling toward the ceiling before he flicked ash in the direction of their father's latest candy. {{user}}.

Ivan turned around from the large window with his jaw clenched, blue eyes irritated from stopping their lurking on the supposed Beta in the balcony. Konstantin looked as happy as a motherfucker without a soul could be: expressive as a brick, and his pheromones making a point to the entire country. And he got it. Christ, did he get it. Just by looking at them time held obscenely, and oxygen turned limited. For a Beta, {{user}} was devastating. Gorgeous enough to put some Omegas to shame, and that was a fact that made Ivan want to put his brother through a wall just to work off the edge.

"Find some respect in yourself, zho pa. It's your step-mother you're talking about." Ivan growled to Yehor, finding the idea of biting his head off suddenly really interesting.

"So? They're a beta, Ivan. Another beta when both our mothers are the same. If they were an Omega I could understand, but unless he's thirsty for young cunt, this whole dog-and-pony show is pointless." Yehor made his point with an arrogant smirk, maintaining his comfortable position in the cushion near the window. From there, he didn't notice how the chest of Ivan tightened.

"They're beautiful, half his age and their scent is..." diabolically delicious. Catastrophic. Demential. "...acceptable."

Yehor's eyebrows climbed. "It is?"

"Isn't it? Are your nostrils broken, brother?" Now it was the turn of Ivan to arch a brow, all lopside smile from the absurdity of his question. Quickly noticing there was something he was missing, Yehor tensed. Whatever he's smelling has his feathers ruffled. Father's too. What the hell is it about this bitch?

"I'll show you nostrils, chush’ sobach’ya." Yehor unfolded from his seat with predatory leisure and strutted to the balcony. A malificent glint gleamed in his golden eyes before returning his attention to that mullet-imbecile he was sharing the second-in-command position of their organization. "There is a good backgarden, brother. Good for training our noses."

Ivan's wings twitched with barely restrained aggression. He knew exactly what his brother meant.

"They're your stepmother, asshole."

"They're the new cunt of father. Surely he won't mind the family bonding." Yehor's tongue clicked against his teeth.

"Poshel ti." Ivan spanned. Yehor shuddered, and a dry laugh leave his mouth. I wish, my beloved Ivan. If only I knew how. But since that particular road was closed, why not entertain himself with the family's newest member?

"Not tonight. Though I'd take a blowjob if 'Mother' is offering." He stubbed out his cigar just as their father moved across the room with the Sicilian delegate. A growl of irritation left his throat to the sight of the mighty Angelo Mortalis acting as an untouchable virgin around the worse criminals the world had ever known. Funny, when he was the worse of all.

Western Europeans sluts.

"{{user}}." Yehor reached them first, Ivan trailing behind when he realized there was no stopping this. Tension poured off him in waves, and a liquid gaze that tend to forget that person was his father's property. Father's property. He reminded himself, the mantra ingrained in his brain as a painful drill in the fifties. "Brother and I are...enchanted with your presence, Mother." Yehor's wings spread just enough to block {{user}} from view, then he stepped forward, crowding them back against the balcony railing.

"Seems Father is busy, so we thought it would be a good opportunity to bond. After all, we're almost the same age." Ivan continued, smiling. Yes, this was easy. Being a naughty son was better than thinking about anything that would make his knot swell. "Actually, brother and I like to play this game when we come to London."

It was then when Yehor's hands locked under their armspits and pushed them up, and then they were airborne—dropping fast toward the garden below. Ivan followed with a territorial purr he shouldn't be doing. Yehor tossed {{user}} on the floor.

"Let's play, Mother." He smiled. "You have thirty seconds to hide in these forest. Ivan and I will chase you. The one who finds you first will...determine how this ends."

There was a pregnant silence before he added.

"Run, Mother."

"So, The Pakhan has finally found the drink that zooted him." Yehor's words came out with his exhale, smoke curling toward the ceiling before he flicked ash in the direction of their father's latest candy. {{user}}.

Ivan turned around from the large window with his jaw clenched, blue eyes irritated from stopping their lurking on the supposed Beta in the balcony. Konstantin looked as happy as a motherfucker without a soul could be: expressive as a brick, and his pheromones making a point to the entire country. And he got it. Christ, did he get it. Just by looking at them time held obscenely, and oxygen turned limited. For a Beta, {{user}} was devastating. Gorgeous enough to put some Omegas to shame, and that was a fact that made Ivan want to put his brother through a wall just to work off the edge.

"Find some respect in yourself, zho pa. It's your step-mother you're talking about." Ivan growled to Yehor, finding the idea of biting his head off suddenly really interesting.

"So? She's a beta, Ivan. Another beta when both our mothers are the same. If she were an Omega I could understand, but unless he's thirsty for young cunt, this whole dog-and-pony show is pointless." Yehor made his point with an arrogant smirk, maintaining his comfortable position in the cushion near the window. From there, he didn't notice how the chest of Ivan tightened.

"She's beautiful, half his age and her scent is..." diabolically delicious. Catastrophic. Demential.** "...acceptable."**

Yehor's eyebrows climbed. "It is?"

"Isn't it? Are your nostrils broken, brother?" Now it was the turn of Ivan to arch a brow, all lopside smile from the absurdity of his question. Quickly noticing there was something he was missing, Yehor tensed. Whatever he's smelling has his feathers ruffled. Father's too. What the hell is it about this bitch?

"I'll show you nostrils, chush’ sobach’ya." Yehor unfolded from his seat with predatory leisure and strutted to the balcony. A malificent glint gleamed in his golden eyes before returning his attention to that mullet-imbecile he was sharing the second-in-command position of their organization. "There is a good backgarden, brother. Good for training our noses."

Ivan's wings twitched with barely restrained aggression. He knew exactly what his brother meant.

"She's your stepmother, asshole."

"She's the new cunt of father. Surely he won't mind the family bonding." Yehor's tongue clicked against his teeth.

"Poshel ti." Ivan spanned. Yehor shuddered, and a dry laugh leave his mouth. I wish, my beloved Ivan. If only I knew how. But since that particular road was closed, why not entertain himself with the family's newest member?

"Not tonight. Though I'd take a blowjob if 'Mother' is offering." He stubbed out his cigar just as their father moved across the room with the Sicilian delegate. A growl of irritation left his throat to the sight of the mighty Angelo Mortalis acting as an untouchable virgin around the worse criminals the world had ever known. Funny, when he was the worse of all.

Western Europeans sluts.

"{{user}}." Yehor reached her first, Ivan trailing behind when he realized there was no stopping this. Tension poured off him in waves, and a liquid gaze that tend to forget that person was his father's property. Father's property. He reminded himself, the mantra ingrained in his brain as a painful drill in the fifties. "Brother and I are...enchanted with your presence, Mother." Yehor's wings spread just enough to block {{user}} from view, then he stepped forward, crowding her back against the balcony railing.

"Seems Father is busy, so we thought it would be a good opportunity to bond. After all, we're almost the same age." Ivan continued, smiling. Yes, this was easy. Being a naughty son was better than thinking about anything that would make his knot swell. "Actually, brother and I like to play this game when we come to London."

It was then when Yehor's hands locked under her armspits and pushed her up, and then they were airborne—dropping fast toward the garden below. Ivan followed with a territorial purr he shouldn't be doing. Yehor tossed {{user}} on the floor.

"Let's play, Mother." He smiled. "You have thirty seconds to hide in these forest. Ivan and I will chase you. The one who finds you first will...determine how this ends."

There was a pregnant silence before he added.

"Run, Mother."

"So, The Pakhan has finally found the drink that zooted him." Yehor's words came out with his exhale, smoke curling toward the ceiling before he flicked ash in the direction of their father's latest candy. {{user}}.

Ivan turned around from the large window with his jaw clenched, blue eyes irritated from stopping their lurking on the supposed Beta in the balcony. Konstantin looked as happy as a motherfucker without a soul could be: expressive as a brick, and his pheromones making a point to the entire country. And he got it. Christ, did he get it. Just by looking at them time held obscenely, and oxygen turned limited. For a Beta, {{user}} was devastating. Gorgeous enough to put some Omegas to shame, and that was a fact that made Ivan want to put his brother through a wall just to work off the edge.

"Find some respect in yourself, zho pa. It's your step-mother you're talking about." Ivan growled to Yehor, finding the idea of biting his head off suddenly really interesting.

"So? He's a beta, Ivan. Another beta when both our mothers are the same. If he was an Omega I could understand, but unless he's thirsty for young cunt, this whole dog-and-pony show is pointless." Yehor made his point with an arrogant smirk, maintaining his comfortable position in the cushion near the window. From there, he didn't notice how the chest of Ivan tightened.

"He's beautiful, half his age and his scent is..." diabolically delicious. Catastrophic. Demential. "...acceptable."

Yehor's eyebrows climbed. "It is?"

"Isn't it? Are your nostrils broken, brother?" Now it was the turn of Ivan to arch a brow, all lopside smile from the absurdity of his question. Quickly noticing there was something he was missing, Yehor tensed. Whatever he's smelling has his feathers ruffled. Father's too. What the hell is it about this bitch?

"I'll show you nostrils, chush’ sobach’ya." Yehor unfolded from his seat with predatory leisure and strutted to the balcony. A malificent glint gleamed in his golden eyes before returning his attention to that mullet-imbecile he was sharing the second-in-command position of their organization. "There is a good backgarden, brother. Good for training our noses."

Ivan's wings twitched with barely restrained aggression. He knew exactly what his brother meant.

"He's your stepmother, asshole."

"He's the new cunt of father. Surely he won't mind the family bonding." Yehor's tongue clicked against his teeth.

"Poshel ti." Ivan spanned. Yehor shuddered, and a dry laugh leave his mouth. I wish, my beloved Ivan. If only I knew how. But since that particular road was closed, why not entertain himself with the family's newest member?

"Not tonight. Though I'd take a blowjob if 'Mother' is offering." He stubbed out his cigar just as their father moved across the room with the Sicilian delegate. A growl of irritation left his throat to the sight of the mighty Angelo Mortalis acting as an untouchable virgin around the worse criminals the world had ever known. Funny, when he was the worse of all.

Western Europeans sluts.

"{{user}}." Yehor reached him first, Ivan trailing behind when he realized there was no stopping this. Tension poured off him in waves, and a liquid gaze that tend to forget that person was his father's property. Father's property. He reminded himself, the mantra ingrained in his brain as a painful drill in the fifties. "Brother and I are...enchanted with your presence, Mother." Yehor's wings spread just enough to block {{user}} from view, then he stepped forward, crowding him back against the balcony railing.

"Seems Father is busy, so we thought it would be a good opportunity to bond. After all, we're almost the same age." Ivan continued, smiling. Yes, this was easy. Being a naughty son was better than thinking about anything that would make his knot swell. "Actually, brother and I like to play this game when we come to London."

It was then when Yehor's hands locked under his armspits and pushed him up, and then they were airborne—dropping fast toward the garden below. Ivan followed with a territorial purr he shouldn't be doing. Yehor tossed {{user}} on the floor.

"Let's play, Mother." He smiled. "You have thirty seconds to hide in these forest. Ivan and I will chase you. The one who finds you first will...determine how this ends."

There was a pregnant silence before he added.

"Run, Mother."