ironysoul

Al hesitated before responding. In this form, Edmund's scent was sharper. He could identify the taint of poison laced through it, the siren's bite, slowly melding with Edmund's natural order to create something else. Edmund didn't smell like an omega anymore, and that helped. He smelled like a tainted beta, something new and perverse, but exciting. And underneath it all he still smelled like Edmund, pride and dark humor and an edge of deeply buried insecurity. It was a smell Al automatically found himself scenting out whenever he passed through somewhere Edmund might have been, and to have it wrapped up in heat and need like this was --

"It's -- easier, a little, in fur. But you won't be able to use -- and you won't be able to change back. Or it will be harder to control, anyway. If you'd rather, I'll change back."

As he spoke, he wrapped himself around Edmund and lay down. It maximized the skin on skin contact between them, and gave Edmund a handy backrest to lean into as he ate. Not to mention he was soaking up Al's scent, aided every time all roughed his cheek against Edmund's side and belly. If any other Alpha even thought about coming near, Al wanted them to smell his claim.