He had not realized how dependent upon her he had become.

It had started when he was recovering.

His mind kept going back to their fight, replaying it over and over in his head, every slash, every parry, every step. He had told himself that she must have seen how hard he was trying not to hurt her; surely even someone as raw as she had been could tell what he was doing. Not that she wasn't good; she was. Breathtaking in her fury and her commitment, but untrained, holding a lightsaber for the first time – he could still see her face when she summoned the saber, took it from him, could hear the smack as it hit her palm. That was when they had both realized what she could do, what she was.

She could fight, that was evident; if that hadn't been true he could have swatted her away like an insect, like he had so many who dared to challenge him, Force-users or not. But she was vicious, determined and, okay, so he was rather badly hurt…injured, he corrected himself. Injured was allowed so long as one used the pain and pushed through. Hurt implied weakness, it implied something deeper than skin and blood. So he had been injured, but even if he had been in top shape, he could tell she would have been a worthy opponent, which was why he had been so intrigued. Well, that and the fact that she radiated the Force with a strength and purity he had never seen. It was so strong he could taste it, touch it, and damn, he wanted to just immerse himself in it.

He had relished their fight, adrenaline and the Force surging through him, heating his blood like when he was young and everything was new and exciting. He had done all he could to prolong the battle, test her, see what she was capable of without truly harming her.

For so long, he had fought with an icy numbness, knowing the inevitable outcome – he would win, and they would die. Or, in encounters with his master, knowing that to fight was pointless, simply letting whatever was going to happen, happen.

But with her? It had been a contest of equals, and that made him feel more alive than he had in years. And when he offered to teach her…an offer he was most assuredly not authorized to make, but he hadn't cared, not one bit, in that moment…he had thought, for long moments, that she would say yes, he had hoped, and he had opened his mind to her, shown her all the things he could teach her. She had faltered, confused and then…then she had taken it in and turned around and used it to defeat him, to wound him, to mark him with searing, burning pain.

It was then that he knew he was hers, irrevocably. And that she had to be his.

He had barely noticed when Hux showed up and had the Stormtroopers drag him onto a transport. All he could see was her face, her eyes, that look that had passed between them.

She had never left him after that, not really. He could always feel her, much like his…like Skywalker had described the pain of a phantom limb, a dull ache throbbing where no hand remained. He had been fascinated with the concept, long ago, when he had seen Luke Skywalker as dashing and heroic instead of insipid and blind.

This was like that, but more. Because it was like part of his very being had been cruelly lopped off, but was still out there, waiting to be reattached.

He had focused all his energy on strengthening their connection, reaching out to her, first along a delicate, gossamer thread, then a sturdier cable, until finally the connection was like a bridge, and he could just walk across, especially in dreams.

The first time he had visited her in a dream, she had been standing on a rocky beach in a gentle rain, her hand stretched out, a look of awe on her glowing face. When she noticed him, she smiled. Actually smiled. At him. He couldn't really remember the last time someone's first reaction to seeing him had been to smile. And oh, her smile was lovely, warm and radiant as a sun, and it made warmth flood his whole being.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she had asked, stretching out both arms to encompass the soft, fine rain.

"Yes. Beautiful."

She blushed and looked at the ground. She knew he didn't mean the rain.

"You aren't surprised to see me," he said, taking a step closer.

"No."

"Why?"

"I knew you'd come, eventually. I've felt you, heard you, calling me."

"And you're not afraid?"

"Should I be?"

"Oh, no. No. I just want to…speak with you."

"Why?"

"You know. You must know. You felt it too. We're…connected. We're meant to be together."

"Together how?"

His eyes flickered over her body, down and back up to meet her gaze. In every way.

Her eyes burned into his. Now it was his turn to blush.

The rain stopped, turned to a fine mist that gathered on her hair and clothes and eyelashes. It made her look ethereal and delicate, like she was made of glass. He would have to be gentle with her. He could, he could be so gentle. He wanted to stare at her forever, but she was waiting for him to say something.

"I…let me teach you. Show you the ways of the Force."

Something like disappointment flickered over her face. "I don't want anything to do with the dark side." Her voice was firm, but she didn't turn away from him. Instead she stepped closer, her eyes still searching his.

"But you are…intrigued."

"Confused." She lifted her hand and placed a palm on his face. He gasped at the little tingle just before she made contact, at the warmth of her skin on his damp cheek. How long had it been since anyone had touched him? "Who are you?"

"Someone who needs you," he whispered, leaning down so his breath tickled her ear.

He felt her sigh and lean into him, her body so warm and soft, just like he remembered from when he had cradled her in his arms, but better because she was awake, and he pulled her into his arms. Yes, this, this was what he needed. Her, in his arms. His. "Come to me. I know you feel it, this connection. Let me teach you." Let me love you.

A look of anguish marred her features. "I can't do that. I won't." She tipped her face up to look at him, eyes wide and searching. The mist clung to the little tendrils of hair that had escaped her buns and curled around her face. "But I will do this."

She stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged at his hair, dragging his face down to hers until she could reach his lips. The she kissed him. He had thought, fantasized about how he could manage to convince her to let him speak to her, touch her, and hopefully, someday, kiss her, and she had kissed him. It was frantic and desperate and hungry, a perfect match for the way he felt inside. She kissed him like she wanted to devour him, like she wanted him to devour her, because she did. Then his hands were moving over her perfect body, tugging the rest of her hair loose so he could tangle his fingers in the damp strands, shoving clothing aside to touch her skin, one hand cupping a breast while the other groped along her bottom and pulled her tight against his body. She moved her hips, rubbing and grinding against him, while she made little pleading grunts into his mouth. He felt her hands on him, clawing at his back, his chest, trying to find a way under his layers, and then his hands joined hers, ripping at the fabric, granting her access, and oh, fuck, her hands on his skin, her nails dragging down his chest, he couldn't get enough. He pushed her against a smooth boulder so he could thrust against her without knocking her to the ground. Not yet, anyway. He had one hand on the back of her head, pulling her mouth against his, hard, while he ripped at his trouser buttons with the other hand, still in a state of shock that this was happening, that she wanted this as much as he did, that she was as fierce and vicious as he was, that he wouldn't have to go slow and be careful not to break her.

"Need you. Rey. My Rey. Need to touch you, be inside you."

"Yes. Me too. I've felt it since…"

"Forever," He finished for her. "Mine. Always been mine. In every way."

"Prove it." She broke away from the kiss and glared at him, a challenge, an invitation.

He kissed his way down her throat, sucking bruises onto her skin, ripped at her vest, her shirt, took her nipple between his teeth and sucked and bit. Marking her like she had him. Damn his trousers, why was he having such a hard time taking them off? He was so hard it hurt but it was like something – not her - was pushing his hand away.

Then there was a loud blaring claxon, like an alarm, and something restraining his arms, and he opened his eyes to find that he was staring at the bright lights of the med bay. Two security droids were holding his arms and legs, clapping restraints on his wrists and ankles as he thrashed on a med bay bed, shouting. "No. NO! Rey!"

Hux was standing at the foot of the bed, an expression on his face like he had just swallowed an insect. "Administer more sedative," he said to the 21B droid. "Strongest dosage allowed."

He felt something cold flow into the veins in his arm, and a warm fog rolled into his mind. Far off, he heard her voice. "Come back. Please, come back."

"I will," he said. "I will."

He did. He visited her more and more, in dreams or awake. As often as she would let him. He came to rely on their connection, on her. Where once he would have lashed out in rage when he was overwhelmed with emotions, he reached for her; demanded her kisses and her touch and her skin beneath his hands. It wasn't enough, it would never be enough until it was real, until he could physically feel her flesh and taste her tongue and…

And now she had shut him out, rejected him, and he could not bear it. He stalked through the ship, pulverized droids in his training room, slashed at anything within reach at the slightest provocation, Force-slammed anyone who dared question him against the wall. He ached for a mission, for the long-promised completion of his training - any outlet for his pent-up frustration. If he had raged before, it was nothing compared to this. He was anger, he was fury – he was the dark side.

It was a run in with that ginger sycophant that finally brought everything to the boiling point.

He was on the bridge, staring out at the blackness of space, the scattered twinkles of stars, wondering where she was. Even now, when she had shut him out, he could feel her in his mind, but he could not locate her physically.

He had been reduced to having Hux try to locate the Resistance's new base through his spy network, and he resented it, resented having to ask his nemesis for help. But there was nothing for it. He had to find her, convince her to come back to him.

He spun around when he sensed Hux's presence on the bridge, stalked toward him. "Anything?" He growled.

Hux pressed his lips together, an irritating habit that grated on Kylo's nerves more and more each day. "Let's walk." He didn't wait for Kylo, just spun on his heel and marched along the length of the bridge. Infuriating. "My sources have captured and interrogated several low-level operatives – gun runners - but they do not know the location of the main base, just a drop-off location on Nar Shadaa."

"Nar Shadaa." Kylo waved a hand. "That is of no use to us."

"I am aware. I am merely reporting what has been gleaned."

"I assume you have the Nar Shadaa location under surveillance?"

"Of course. We have followed several ships that have left the location fully loaded, in attempts to follow or capture them, but they have eluded us thus far."

"HOW?" Kylo shouted, his voice echoing through the mask, making the nearby technicians jump.

"If I knew that I would have them in custody, would I not?"

"How can low-level gun runners evade your best scouts? I again find myself questioning the competence of your troops."

"We have had this discussion, Ren. I will not tolerate you questioning my methods again."

"Then find them."

Hux tilted his head, pursed his lips. "Why the sudden rush to find the Resistance? The Supreme Leader has not said this is a priority."

"I have my reasons," he snarled.

"Your reasons. Once again, Ren, I think you are putting your personal interests – whatever they are, although I suspect I know – first."

Kylo turned and stepped in front of Hux, blocking his path. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

Hux sneered. "I heard your filthy drug-induced muttering in the med bay after Starkiller. Personally, I don't care what you want to do to the scavenger girl, but do not let it interfere with…" Hux's words were cut off as he gasped and clawed at his throat. Kylo tilted his head and watched as his rival's face reddened, then mottled, purple and blotchy, as he struggled to suck in air.

Oh, he had longed to do this for years. Why hadn't he, when it was so utterly satisfying?

Then he remembered why. It was forbidden. Hate Hux he could; in fact he was actually encouraged to hate him, that rivalry set in place when they first met. But he was forbidden from harming him.

He gasped, dropping his hand, stumbled back, eyes wide behind the mask, breath coming in jerky gulps as Hux collapsed to the floor, panting. He backed away, shaken. His master would hear about this, he was certain.

Hux, always efficient, didn't waste any time tattling on him, and he found himself kneeling in the cavernous audience chamber, icy terror running through his veins. He had disobeyed a direct mandate. Punishment would be severe. He hoped it would also be swift - but it didn't seem that was to be the case. He had been kneeling in silence for so long his knees had stopped aching and gone numb against the cold stone. He could sense his master's presence, could almost feel disapproval coming off the holographic figure in rolling, greasy waves. Still, he stayed immobile, silent, eyes on the ground. Anything else would make things worse.

Finally, his master spoke. "Remove your helmet."

He did.

"Look at me."

He lifted his head, slowly, and met his master's baleful glare.

"You have been disobedient."

"Yes, Master. I allowed myself to lose control with the general. It will not happen again."

"Hux." Snoke's hologram flapped a long, bony hand. "He is insignificant. Useful for the time being, but in the larger scheme of things…irrelevant. It was not your disobedience regarding Hux to which I was referring. "

His eyes widened, a jolt of adrenaline surging into his system. Surely he didn't know about…

"Of course I know about your tawdry little infatuation. About what you have been doing with that scavenger girl."

Oh no. No, no, no. His hands started shaking, his heart thudding high and fast in his chest. Even worse than harming Hux. "Thoughts. Only thoughts…" he stammered.

"Do not attempt to justify yourself to me. I know what a Force Bond is. I know you have been interacting. Touching yourself but feeling her." He squirmed beneath his master's look of disgust. "Do you think I could not sense it? Do you think I was unaware of your growing obsession with her? Your desire to have her? And your little…dalliance?"

He dropped his gaze, heat spreading over his face and down his neck.

"You are aware that you did not have my permission to…indulge."

He felt light-headed. Of course he knew, but he hadn't cared. He had only known that she made him feel like a person again, and he had pursued that, pursued her, heedlessly. "Yes, master. But…it wasn't real…"

"SILENCE."

He trembled.

"Pleasure is mine to allow, just as pain is mine to inflict. You are aware of this."

He was.

"I allowed this insubordination to continue in the hopes that you could turn her, as you did your classmates at the Jedi Academy, but apparently you failed at even that. Now you will pay the price. I will find the girl, and I will show you the dark side."

Fear lapped at him. He knew what Snoke would do to her, or what he would have him do to her. Pain, torture…perhaps some special torment because of his personal interest in her, and finally death. He was not so naïve as to think otherwise.

"Wait. I can turn her. I just need more time."

"Time. You always need more time." Disdain dripped from Snoke's voice. "It's pathetic."

He ground his teeth. It was true. But…Rey. He had a fleeting memory of her upturned face, lips parted, eyes fluttering closed right before he kissed her. He would beg, grovel, anything to keep from having her be used as a lesson. "Yes, master, I know. I have failed you. But this time I won't, I swear. I just need your guidance. If I could have her with me, in person, I could turn her, I know I could."

Snoke regarded him for a long time, fingers steepled, face hard. "What makes you think this scavenger, this girl, would be worth such an effort? Other than as your plaything?"

"She is strong in the Force. Full of raw power. So strong, so fierce - and mostly unspoiled by Skywalker's influence. I can feel the darkness in her, straining to be let out. She is a warrior, and she could be an asset to the Order. This is not about my…personal feelings."

"Indeed." Snoke pressed his thin lips together. "Well. If she is in fact all you say, perhaps. Perhaps she is worth my attention."

Hope soared in Kylo's chest. "She is. She could be glorious. A fine weapon for the First Order." He added quickly.

"Do you know her location?"

He looked down. "No, Master. She fears telling me due to her misplaced loyalty to the Resistance."

"But you are bonded." Snoke considered. "Yes. Yes, I believe there is a way to use that to find her and bring her here. It is not easy. It requires effort and a deep commitment to the dark side, as it is an unnatural ability."

"Will you teach me?" He waited, tense, hopeful.

"There will be preparation required before your connection to the dark is sufficient. But yes, I will teach you this skill."

"Thank you master." Gratitude swelled in his chest. The Supreme Leader did understand, he would let him have her, keep her, so long as she joined them. And he knew he could convince her, if only she was with him.

"Once you have mastered this skill, you will take her to Mustafar. Do as you will with her, but know this. You have one moon cycle to turn her. If not, you will dispatch her yourself."

He shuddered. No, he would not think about that. He would make her see reason, and she would join him, and she would be his.

"Yes, Supreme Leader. I will not fail you."

"See that you do not. We will begin tomorrow."

His heart was pounding in his chest, a bright happy feeling spreading through him. Rey would be his. The Supreme Leader had agreed.

"And now, my apprentice. There is still the issue of your disobedience."

He froze. Of course, he had broken the rules. There had to be punishment. It was only what he deserved.

It started in his teeth, a vibration he felt more than heard, expanding outward, into his sinuses, behind his eyeballs, until it was a high screech in his head, loud and shrill and vicious. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat, and a trembling started in his hands. He wanted to clutch his head and beg for it to stop, but he knew that would only prolong it, so he clenched his teeth and fists and endured.

A blurry image of Rey's eyes swam in front of his vision but he pushed it violently away.

The pressure came next, squeezing his windpipe until he was wheezing, struggling to remain upright on his knees. His vision narrowed, tunneled until all he could see was his master's face, cold and stony and unforgiving. Flashes of light burst behind his retinas, red and blue and purple, and were soon consumed by throbbing, pulsing darkness. He felt a slow, hot trickle from his nose and tasted iron as small blood vessels ruptured from the strain. The pressure spread, tightening like durasteel bands around his chest and then moving lower, like a kick in the groin but worse, crushing and wringing, a bright hot streak of pain shooting through his gut, bringing with it waves of nausea. Hot tears pricked at his eyes as he struggled not to vomit all over the chamber floor. All the while, the high shrieking sound grew louder until it drove every thought out of his head. He finally gave in, pressed his hands to his temples and screamed and collapsed on the stone floor.

He wasn't sure how long it took for him to recover, but he finally became aware of his surroundings again: the stone floor against his cheek, the sour smell of his sweat, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. And silence. Absolute silence. He was alone in the chamber.

He rose to his knees again, bracing himself with one hand as a final wave of dizziness made the walls spin and the floor seem to rise to meet him.

Rey. He would have Rey. He would devote himself to his training, drown himself in the dark side and master this new ability. Then they would be together, in every way. He would be able to feel her skin under his fingertips, suck her lips and nipples and clit, spread her long legs and plunge into her over and over until they were both nothing but throbbing, pulsing pleasure.

Even in his weakened state, he could feel himself growing hard at the thought.

I'm sure Snoke will be true to his word and let Kylo and Rey be together and live happily ever after in grandpa's castle and have lots of little dark side babies, right?

A million thanks to Perry Downing for being the best beta ever, not only turning this around in record time but also giving me a brilliant idea that let me get to the good part sooner. Thank you, and I hope you like the additions!

Thank you to everyone for the warm reception this story has received. I'm so thrilled that you like it! Reviews are bliss!