It had seemed unproblematic. Get into the wolf den without clothes or being seen, get out again, and be a member of the university’s most prestigious frat by dawn. Easy.

But Riley hadn’t counted on the rain-slick rail ringing the enclosure’s upper viewing area. The young man put his foot on it, felt himself slip, and had one of those awful moments where a half-second seemed to yawn into eternity, everything stretching on forever and ever—and then he was plummeting with a wail to land nearly twenty feet in the enclosure below, his wind forced out of him from the impact. Amazingly, he sensed he had no broken bones, no serious damage. Fortune was on his side—just one twist of the body, and he could have been looking at paralysis or worse.

Or was fortune on his side? As Riley struggled to stand through his groaning lungs and woozy head, he saw gleaming eyes slinking out of the cavern on the far end of the enclosure. Oh no. The wolves had left their den… he could see them now.

Somehow, looking at them on nature documentaries hadn’t done any justice. Those gave you the sense of wolves, their approximate size as large, sleek dogs with heavy fur dappled brown and grey and white (the ones approaching Riley himself currently mostly grey), their pointed muzzles, erect ears.

But no video could prepare you for their uncontainable presence, the way they dominated with every step. Their confident demeanor, the way they stalked up to you like you were theirs.

Breath wheezed out of Riley as he watched, open-eyed, as they approached him. No way. It wasn’t supposed to end like this… he’d just wanted to join a frat…

But the wolves had no interest in gnawing at him. Instead, they trotted around him, sniffing intently. He couldn’t help but notice something from the corner of his eyes: without exception, every last one of them was sporting a thick, red canine cock between their legs,

They were all erect.