A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I'm glad you're enjoying Sesshoumaru's POV and look forward to seeing what you think as the story unfolds. :3


Outrage

In his outrage at being brought low by a mere human woman, Sesshoumaru forgot himself and raised his arm, snapping his wrist in an attempt to call forth his youki whip. He would give her a lashing across the cheek for her audacity. Let the lingering mark serve as a reminder of her place.

But of course, no light formed at his fingertips. His youkai heritage was muddied with human blood, diluted to the point of uselessness. He tightened his jaw, biting back a scowl, turning instead to deliver an open handed slap to the woman in place of his whip.

He was never able to land the blow.

She sent him crashing into the ground six more times with her word of power, never letting him take so much as a step before he was once more dragged down by the impossible weight around his neck. It was the rosary. The strand of beads and fangs that he hadn't paid attention to when first waking crackled with holy energy now.

"Stop!" he growled out around the sod stuck in his teeth. The bones of his face were beginning to ache, and his muscles burned with the strain of fighting the pull of the rosary. His face flushed an angry red, his fangs curling over his lips in a snarl. His humiliation was so great, that if he could only reach her he would have gladly torn the miko apart, and then slaughtered the rest of Inuyasha's pathetic pack for witnessing his shame.

"You stop!" the miko countered, crossing her arms and stomping one tiny foot. In that moment she looked like Rin, though Rin had never been so ill mannered.

The thought of Rin quelled his bloodlust. He had taken the girl in as pack, in fulfillment of a debt owed. If Inuyasha happened across the child while wearing Sesshoumaru's face, Sesshoumaru would not have her go happily to her death, thinking herself safe with her Alpha. For such an offense, Sesshoumaru would see to it that there was not enough left of Inuyasha to send to hell, no matter what body he wore.

Sesshoumaru would not commit the same crime.

Bit by bit, one muscle group at a time, Sesshoumaru forced himself to relax, sinking down into the depression made by his – Inuyasha's – body.

"Allow me to rise. I will not strike you."

"Or run away or attack anyone else?" the miko prompted.

Sesshoumaru felt his brows quirk in spite of himself. The miko was more intelligent than he had expected, only having seen her at times when she was barreling into the middle of battles she had no business taking part in, bellowing Inuyasha's name.

"This one gives his word," he affirmed. His voice sounded wrong. The inflection was his, but the light tenor was not.

There was a pause, as if she were weighing his sincerity. Then she said, "Okay," and warm hands, scarcely bigger than Rin's, were helping him to his feet.

He stood stiffly while she brushed dirt from his chest, uncomfortable with her touch, but unwilling to take the risk of giving offense and being sent crashing to his knees once more. She stayed close to him even when she had ceased to arrange his clothes and hair, apparently unconcerned with the fact that he had been attempting to discipline her mere moments before.

She gazed up at him with forgiving blue eyes filled with adoration and worry. Sesshoumaru recognized the expression, having seen it often on Rin's face. Gently, the miko asked, "What's wrong, Inuyasha?"

Sesshoumaru considered for a long moment. It was possible that the pack would be more cooperative if he allowed them to believe he was Inuyasha. But what reason would Inuyasha give for seeking out Sesshoumaru? And what wrath might the miko unleash once she discovered the ruse?

No, Sesshoumaru was a warrior of honor. He would tell the truth. Such deceit and machinations were better left to lesser beings, like that vile hanyou, Naraku.

He carefully did not think about the fact that he too was now a hanyou.

"I am not Inuyasha," he told the miko. "I am Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands."