He was pacing in their room, she was watching him from the bed. He knew she was naked beneath the thin sheet, waiting for him. They'd fallen back into almost the same old routine. The full moon would come in a couple days, he could already tell she'd be disgusted that he didn't lose control. They wouldn't fight, however. Fenrir had told them both that he wouldn't allow it. Then within a week she was in his bed waiting for him to join her so they could lose themselves in each other.
But not tonight. Tonight he was having moral qualms. Tomorrow was the first full moon Greyback's pack would run since he'd joined. "Do you kill, Aislin?" He demanded.
She shrugged, the sheet falling a bit lower as though to entice him away from this moral conflict. Just to ignore it and jump into bed with her, to lose himself in her body, in her heat. He couldn't. "To be honest, Remus, I don't know." She said casually, lying back on the pillow, eyes closed with a smile on her lips, "I just let it take me."
His argument faltered, she looked so peaceful, so beautiful. He wanted to crawl into bed with her. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her. Instead, he pressed on, "You don't know? What do you mean, you don't know?"
"Fine, I will admit that I've awakened with blood on my hands. I'll even go so far as to admit that I've awakened with bodies strewn about me. But whether I killed them or someone else, I cannot confirm." She said with an edge. She was about to lose her temper, he could tell by the formal tone her voice had taken. If she did, she might leave. He might not get to kiss her tonight. Nevertheless, he had to press on. This was more important.
"And it doesn't bother you to wake up with a body next to you?" He demanded. He remembered the horror he'd felt when he'd awakened to find her body strewn across the floor of the Shrieking Shack. He'd been terrified that she was dead and disgusted that he'd done that to her; that he'd been capable of such damage.
"Remus." She snapped, sitting up and looking at him. Her eyes were fiery. "We're werewolves. It's what we do. It's what we were made for." They stared at each other for a moment, then she patted the bed. "Remus John Lupin, I swear if you don't get into this bed right now, you will pay dearly."
He sighed and crawled into bed, she was on him in seconds, her lips traveling across his scarred chest. He smirked to think that probably half of those scars were from her. Then he was lost in her.
The next night was full moon and she seemed determined to corner him before darkness fell. He'd avoided her twice, slipping down a corridor or throwing himself into conversation with one of his pack mates at their "den", before she'd finally managed to catch him. She didn't say anything about his narrow escapes earlier.
"You will run with us tonight." She stated simply.
"You know I don't run on the full moon." He replied. She knew full well that he had control issues. She also knew that he was now taking the wolfsbane potion to keep himself sane during the transformations. But wolfsbane was a banned substance in the pack. Fenrir saw the potion as another means by which wizards tried to exert control over werewolves. He felt like the potion was offensive; it implied that they needed to be cured, which was something Fenrir heartily disagreed with. Aislin had emptied the four vials he'd had in his coat pocket when she'd found them. He'd be helpless for the full moon; a monster.
She glared at him. "You will, if you want to stay in the pack."
It had become apparent throughout the last week that Aislin has become the alpha female of the pack, just as Fenrir was the alpha male. In wild wolves this would have meant that they were mates, but she'd assured him numerous times that she only had one mate. Wolves mated for life. But regardless of whom she was sleeping with, she had the thing she'd always hungered for; power. And he had no doubt that she would, if she needed to, use it against him to get her way.
Nevertheless, he tempted her. "I thought this was Fenrir's pack, not yours." He said quietly, almost a whisper.
A growl escaped her perfect lips, a low, menacing growl that let him know clearly and in simple terms that she was in charge and that she was annoyed. "Watch yourself, Remus. Just because we share a bed doesn't mean that you have control over me. Keep in mind that if it weren't for me you would be dead already. You owe this to us, to him."
He knew what she was referring to; two days after his first fateful meeting with Fenrir, half of the pack had mutinied in response to his welcome. This had cut Fenrir's numbers dramatically, something that was not tolerated. Fenrir had been ready to kill him just to win back their support, but Aislin had intervened. She'd convinced him that they hadn't been truly loyal to him and that they would infect more people at the next full moon. The entire pack would hunt where there would be the most wizards available for infection; Diagon Alley.
Remus felt nauseous as he thought of it. He was expected to participate in the upcoming massacre. He was expected to infect as many people as he could. He'd felt horror as he'd realized the month; August. All of the students returning to Hogwarts would be shopping in Diagon Alley, he only prayed that in these dark times that they had enough sense to not be in the streets after dark.
They Apparated to the street, filled with wizard shops and stalls, in the mid-afternoon. It was busy, filled with the hustle and bustle of last minute school shoppers. He was thankful he'd been able to get an owl away to the Order, warning them not to shop tonight. At least Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys would be safe.
She drew him out of his thoughts; her arm was wrapped around his as she began leading him down the street towards Knockturn Alley. There was a pub just past Borgin & Burkes, called the Shrunken Head, which they would wait at until darkness fell; until the massacre began. The Shrunken Head was a seedy place, it was dark, most of the occupants had their faces shrouded, and certain stains and scorch marks left no doubt in Remus' mind that people had died there. The air tingled with Dark magic.
The proprietor, a witch with a long, sharp nose and straight black hair past her waist, looked up in surprise when the thirty of them strolled in, heads uncovered, looking confident as hell. Fenrir sat down, Aislin sat down at his side, he sat down on her other side, and they began ordering drinks.
Remus politely declined the drinks Fenrir kept putting on the table until Aislin elbowed him sharply in the rips and downed another shot. Remus didn't drink, it had to do with control. If he fought against his inner wolf for control every month he wasn't likely to voluntarily give it up for the pleasant buzz of liquor. Nevertheless, he downed the shot. It burned in his throat as he quickly swallowed the next one. Perhaps it would make the night easier. Perhaps he could drown his guilt for what he had to do before it even managed to surface. Maybe he could drink enough to pass out and it wouldn't even happen. But he knew they all had to make sacrifices if they wanted to win the war, this was one of his.
