"You're leaving me?" Victor Creed stared across their bedroom with confusion apparent in his eyes. His mate stared back, unintimidated by his daunting presence.

"Yes." Though her bags were packed and she was standing at the door, the hulking blond found it hard to comprehend the message.

"After 16 years together, you're just going to walk away?" His blue eyes were wide; he ran a large hand through his blond hair when she nodded in the affirmative. "Well fuck." He muttered under his breath.

"I know I've probably said this a thousand times, but," she paused, her gold eyes filled with tears, "I still love you."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"Because I need to be loved in return!"

And he let her go.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Victor didn't know what to do with himself. It had been 3 weeks to the day since she left and he was still baffled over the knowledge that she was really gone. His shoulders lifted up from their hunched position as he stood up.

"Gotta get outa here." He mumbled aloud to himself. He dug in a pocket of his khakis for a moment and pulled out a sleek, black phone. He punched in a number before holding the cell phone to his ear. "Larry, it's Creed, I want a job, preferably outa the states."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

He never thought he'd meet her in Morocco.

She was dancing in a bar in the worst side of town. She was clothed in a brilliant assortment of golds that highlighted her eyes so well and complemented her red hair perfectly. The simple skirt hung off her relatively wide hips dangerously low. Beads clinked together delicately as she weaved her hips back and forth, side to side. He felt a familiar tightening in his groin as he watched her dance. When the cloth that was placed strategically over her generous bossom shifted, he tensed to refrain from leaping onto the counter and stealing her away.

Her seductive dance finished with one last pop of her hip, so she climbed down off the counter. Victor was amused to notice that despite their obvious arousal, the rag tag group of men that watched her did not approach her. His ex-lover gladly knocked back the shot given to her by the bartender before making her way to the blond man's table. Victor bit back a groan when he saw the light sheen of sweat across her lightly tanned skin.

"Victor." He had forgotten how good his name sounded when it spilled from her lips.

"Dezra." He whispered her name beneath the loud noise produced by the bar regulars. He knew that she heard him though, because she closed her eyes briefly and gasped. Through the dimly lit bar, he could see the flash of arousal in her skin and her light panting.

"C'mere baby."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

How in the world had he forgotten how fucking good she was in bed?

She was slumped against him now. Her red hair was sweaty and tangled, her generously curved body was wrapped around him and he was still buried deep inside her body in the most intimate of ways.

"Ya feel so good Dez." He mumbled, his voice a husky whisper.

"Missed you." She responded before pulling herself from his body. He immediately missed the warmth of her body as she slipped off him and entered the bathroom.

"Come back to bed babe." He said, unsure whether it was a demand or a request.

"Just a minute you impatient beast." She lingered another moment in the bathroom before she returned to his bed. They lay silently for a long time, admiring the nondescript walls of his hotel room.

"Got them drunks well trained don'tcha?" He asked rhetorically, referring to the men in the bar who had refused to come close enough to touch her.

"Guess they like having their limbs intact." He laughed then, a hoarse chuckle that rumbled through his chest unrestrained.

"How long has it been Victor?" He noticed the mood change quickly.

"Since what?"

"Since I left you." He silently reeled back in his mind before giving her a dull answer.

"Too long." She snarled at him, flashing her white canines. He paused for a moment beore he answered again.

"4 months, 2 weeks and 5 days."

"Can I come home?" She questioned. He met her gold eyes with his blue ones and ran a hand through her red hair.

"Gonna leave me again?" She froze, clearly unprepared for his question.

"I don't know." She answered truthfully. He frowned before pulling her back into his arms.

"Figure that out then let me know."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

She was standing on his porch with her bags in her hands, exactly one month to the day since that night in Morocco. Her hair was brushed and swept out of her face as usual, her clothes were well-kept and unwrinkled. Overall, her appearance was tip top like she preferred, but it was the look in her eyes that gave Victor a reason to pause. Her brilliant gold eyes betrayed a heart break so painful that Victor's chest tightened.

"I can't do this anymore Vic," She started to cry. Victor hated it when she cried, there was something horrible about tears that killed him. That and he had no clue what to do with a weeping woman. In response, he remained standing in the doorway with a blank look on his face.

"Can't do what?" He knew he was being callous, but he wanted a real answer.

"Can't stay away from you anymore. Can I come home?" He glanced around briefly before he stepped right up to her. The murky weather worsened as fat droplets of water began to hit the ground. He watched as the rain blended with her tears until he couldn't tell if she was even crying anymore. One of his large hands rose up to cup her flushed face, she curled into it instinctively. His uncharacteristic kindness seemed to melt her heart further.

"Gonna leave me again?" Her gold eyes shone brightly as she realized the honest answer.

"Never."

And he never let her go.