Okay, so here comes the lemon thats like a shotgun blast to the chest and what, I like to refer, as the final nail in the coffin of Claudia and Kurt's relationship. So, if you dont like lemons in this type of fanfiction, just skim over it or completely skip it, your choice because the last two chapters will have no lemons at all, I don't really care lol

Okay one more chapter and then the eptilogue! *sniff*, Im about to cry! :(

Enjoy!

-Nagiana

Any emotion that Kurt felt at Claudia's betrayals and at her and Nicholaus's earlier announced engagement, materialized in blinding anger and rage.

He was angry at Gretel for not leaving him alone when he so needed to be alone to think. He was angry at Ralf for heaping more and more duties onto him in this time when he needed to be alone and not called upon at will. He was angry at Bruno for no particular reason and he was angry at Nicholaus for even being alive.

But the one person he was infinitely angrier at was Claudia.

Claudia . . . the woman he had fallen so deeply in love with, it hurt him to be away from her for too long. But now whenever he gazed at her, it wasn't love he felt above all other things (true, it was still there) it was anger and rage and hurt. It was Claudia who carried his son or daughter, Claudia who was biding her time until she decided to tell Nicholaus that she baby she carried was his. It was Claudia who took everything he ever wanted to have with her – family, children – and put very much in Nicholaus's grasp.

But most of all, he was angry at himself. He was angry that he did not see the snake that Claudia really was.

He was angry that he had not known that Claudia never really loved him.

Claudia stood in front of her armoire a week later after the awkward breakfast, gazing at her wardrobe with a look mixed between disgust and indecision. None of her dresses seemed to fit to go down to dinner wearing and quite frankly, they were all as revealing as the green dress had been. She wouldn't have had such a hard decision had it just be Nicholaus at dinner, but Kurt would be there too and she wasn't quite sure if she was ready enough to be wearing such dresses in his company yet.

She felt strong, suit clad arms wrap around her waist and she grinned when she felt Nicholaus's lips meet her neck. He observed her wardrobe as well and eventually, he decided for her, a decision that she beat herself at not thinking of first.

"Wear the pink," He suggested, and that was what it was, a suggestion, never a command. Nicholaus was funny like that. "It's not too revealing in your grandfather's eyes and not too many people will get jealous at me being seen with you while you're in it. Not-to-mention, the color looks magnificent on you." Claudia grinned.

"You think every color looks magnificent on me, Nicholaus." She teased and she could see Nicholaus grinning as he moved away to adjust a medal on his uniform in front of the nearby mirror. Claudia grabbed the pink silk dress from its hanger nonetheless and Nicholaus answered her as she took off her clothes and threw them on a nearby couch.

"That's because it's true. Every color does look good on you . . . except for perhaps, burlap." Claudia scoffed and laughed as the dress fell over her head and shoulders like water, moving to settle around her in a weightlessness that all expensive silk seemed to possess. She heard Nicholaus whistle from behind her and she grinned over her shoulder at him.

"Down boy and lace me up." Nicholaus bowed teasingly before he stepped forward and pulled at the laces in the back, knowing well how tightly she liked them. It had a corseted bodice of a deep rose color with hints of black, the skirts a pale pink that flared around at her feet. A matching shawl went with it to cover her shoulders and she heard Nicholaus's teasing whistle behind her again as he laced her up.

"Please don't hit me Claudia, but have you gotten bigger?"

"More than you know . . ." She thought, rolling her eyes in the process. Even though she was about three to four weeks along, she could already tell that she was pregnant. She could tell by her stomach's slight, barely even noticeable protrusion and the way she could smell things on the opposite side of the house. It was amazing, a feeling that she never thought she would experience.

Nicholaus stopped lacing her up at her words and she felt a stillness descend around them. "Claudia . . . what do you mean by that?" He asked her quietly, and Claudia shrugged, not able to meet his gaze. This was it . . . this was where all her planning and biding time would come to fruition.

"I thought you had noticed, so I didn't say anything." She told him and Nicholaus sucked in a breath sharply through his mouth.

"Claudia . . . are you pregnant?" He asked in a voice barely above a breathy whisper and she averted her eyes to the floor in what she hoped was a sign of embarrassment.

"I should have told you sooner, I know, but the thing is -"

She was interrupted by Nicholaus quickly doing up her laces and then turning her around, where he pulled her into his arms in an embrace that made her want to cry. Guilt flooded through her more than ever right now but she was bound and determined to see her unholy plan go through.

"I glad you told me now instead of waiting until something bad possibly happens. I'm happy, Claudia, I really am, but . . . this is all so sudden! I never expected to become a father this soon in my life." Claudia nodded.

"I know, Nicholaus, I know. I didn't plan on this happening; we didn't plan on this happening!" At least that was the truth.

"But it did . . ." They murmured at the same time before they parted a little, where they kissed gently, both of them revealing in the sweetness of it. They broke apart and Nicholaus grinned and laughed a little.

"I suppose your family has another reason for rejoicing, huh?" He chuckled and Claudia returned it, shaking her head.

"You have no idea, Nicholaus . . ." She replied in a voice she hoped was as happy and joyful at his but she could not banish the thoughts of what Kurt would do when he learned she had actually gone through with her plan.

That night's dinner was a complete and utter fiasco.

It hadn't started out that way, though. In the beginning, everyone (except Kurt) was joyful when they announced that Claudia was pregnant, her mother even dissolving into happy tears at the thought of her oldest and most stubborn, strong-willed daughter becoming a mother in nine months. Ralf had been proud, happy at the thought and her grandfather had been joyous as well. Bruno was excited about becoming an uncle at such a young age and Gretel was simply indifferent. Kurt brooded, however, and his anger steadily grew over the course of dinner.

At the second course, was when Claudia saw things start to go downhill.

Ralf and her grandfather had gotten into some kind of conversation that grew more heated as it went by. Elsa didn't notice because she was still fawning over the fact that she was going to be a grandmother to Nicholaus, who chuckled and agreed with almost every word she said. The only one who was paying attention to where the conversation was going, was Claudia.

Then, in an effort to cool his head, Ralf turned to Kurt and inquired about his family. Claudia, who knew about the death of Kurt's mother and the banishment of his father, felt her heart go out to the man who was struggling to find the words he needed to explain to her father why his father was in exile in some other European country. Worse still, Nicholaus had now taken an interest and with Nicholaus taking an interest, Elsa had no choice but to.

Kurt had started by telling them of his mother's death, a fact that earned him a good amount of 'sorry's', something which he politely received. When it got to him about to talk about his father being in exile, Claudia saw the darkening of Ralf's expression and her heart truly went out to him. Right now was a time when he needed someone to lean on and right now Claudia could not do that without opening a whole different can of worms between her and Nicholaus.

After the conversation in which Ralf tersely told Kurt to meet him in his office later, it had snowballed from there. An old cook that Claudia knew Bruno had grown very close to had spilled soup on Kurt's lap. After jumping up and letting out a long string of expletives, he dragged the poor old man out of sight into the next room and proceeded to brutally beat him.

Responses were mixed. Her father and grandfather determinedly ignored the sound of pleads and painful yelps coming from the next room, whilst Gretel and her mother held looks of horror. But it was Bruno's who garnered the most attention from Claudia. His eyes were as wide and frightened as saucers and he flinched every time the old man let out a plead or a painful yelp. Claudia felt tears come to her eyes as she gazed at Bruno and she felt Nicholaus steel himself beside her.

"Commander, with your permission -" Ralf's terse nod interrupted him and Nicholaus squeezed her hand reassuringly before he stood and went into the next room. There was the sound of perfunctory orders which were combated with yells which escalated into roars. Claudia stood and moved over to Bruno, where she took the shaking, sobbing boy into her arms. He clung to her like his life depended on it and Ralf nodded to her, giving her permission to take him up to his room.

As they were leaving, the sound of punches could be heard from the other room, causing Bruno to flinch even more and sob quietly.

By the time Bruno had fallen asleep, allowing Claudia to sneak from the room, it was nighttime and the house was all quiet. The lights had been extinguished except for a few lone candles here and there and even with her heels removed, her bare feet still echoed throughout the halls. It was a very creepy feeling overall but Claudia was not afraid. Claudia didn't have that many reasons to be afraid anymore.

She snuck down the stairs to the first floor, her parched throat driving her to do so and when she reached the dining room, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and felt a presence behind her. She knew who it was.

"What is it Kurt?" Her tone was clipped and cold when she addressed. She resented the way he hulked behind her, hatred rolling off him in waves, it seemed.

"I heard noises going down the stairs and in here and was concerned with everyone's safety." His gaze flicked from her tear-stained face to the tenseness of her body as she gazed at him, finally noticing the black eye he had been dealt, and wondering how many other bruises that Nicholas had dealt him when he tried to stop him.

"I assure you that I am fine. But now is not a time I wish to wrangle with your nosiness." She closed her eyes briefly and struggled to compose herself. "Please, just go Kurt."

He stood silently, still staring at her until she was forced to address him again, her tone even more clipped. "So, looks like my fiancé dealt you a rather horrible blow?" Kurt chuckled and looked away for a moment.

"Yes he did . . . he dealt me a good many blows."

"You should have not done that. I have no pity." Unconsciously, her hands balled in fists.

"Of course you do not." He leaned against the wall crossing his ankles casually. "From what I remember, you used to tell me that you despised Nicholas . . . that you hated him and never wanted to marry him. Something you must have lied to me about. And here you are, obviously angry, which is more emotion than I have seen from you yet?" He lifted an eyebrow at her.

Rage tingled through every muscle in her body. "And what is it to you, Kurt? Since when is my personal life any of your concern; you are just a soldier?" Her voice shook with barely concealed fury.

Abruptly, he pushed himself off the wall and in several long strides was standing before her looking down on her with narrowed eyes.

"Since you are my Commander's daughter, anything affecting your state of mind and ability to lead concerns me." His tone was harsh, but with a surprisingly gentle touch, he reached out to her cheek and brushed a finger across a tear. Thoughtfully, he stared down at the wetness and rubbed it between two fingers.

Something inside her broke and without even thinking, she lashed out with one hand and slapped him soundly across the face. He fell back a step in surprise and then swiftly grabbed both her wrists in a viselike grip. His eyes narrowed into slits and he lowered his face to hers. His voice was strangely quiet compared to the anger in his eyes.

"I am not him, I do not lie to suit my own needs, so don't take your stupidity out on me. And yes, I said stupidity . . ." She blanched from the heated fury in his words as his voice trailed off with a harsh exhalation. He shook his head and closed his eyes as if in pain.

Shock streaked through her mind and broke through the red haze of her anger. What was he talking about? He would never what? Curiosity warred with fury and won. She broke her hand from his grip and touched his cheek tentatively. He opened his eyes and Maker, the intensity of that look-pain, anger, and if it could be believed, need. Her breath quickened and something stirred deep inside. She quickly clamped down on the feeling before it could form and shoved it back into the cage deep inside her heart.

"Nicholaus was coming for a long time Kurt . . ."

God, who was she trying to convince; Kurt or herself?

He hissed with derision. "Well it's his gain as far as I'm concerned. As I said, he is a fool, and you deserve better, although somehow, he seemed to have gotten the girl." Then with no warning, he buried a fist in her hair, pulling her head back and pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was brutal, hungry, and when she tried to push away, he tightened his grip in her hair and around her back. His tongue invaded her mouth and claimed it. She tasted fruit and the flavor of him, of Kurt, swirled against her taste buds. She closed her eyes against a wave of dizziness and felt his teeth graze her lower lip.

Her heart hammered furiously in her chest and she no longer knew if her body's reactions were from anger or desire, and she didn't care. At this moment, those emotions were one and the same. She gripped the front of his shirt in both fists and pulled him against her hard. He growled low in his throat and the hand on her back dropped down, pulling her groin against his. She felt his bulge of desire pressed against her stomach and groaned into his kiss.

Breathing hard, he suddenly pulled back while keeping his one arm around her waist. In one swift move, one arm impatiently swept across the dining table, shoving all else to the floor. There was too much in the way. His blue eyes burned into hers as with trembling fingers, he unlaced her nightgown and struggled to get it over head, not nearly fast enough for either of them. His eyes raked over her breasts, then slowly down her taut stomach, drinking in the sight of her like a man who has been deprived of water to the point of death. He cupped one breast within his rough palm - oh but his touch was hot - burning the tender skin. Gripping her full, rounded buttocks in both hands, he lifted her onto the desk.

Both were breathing raggedly now and she tried to shove his shirt above his head, needing to feel his skin also. He roughly tugged it off, and she got a glimpse of the lean musculature, no army tattoos like the couple that spread across Nicholaus muscular chest. She was desperate to feel him, to map every inch, every line of muscle again. She placed both palms against his chest, his skin so hot, it burned against her own. She could feel the movement of his breathing, could feel his struggle to keep it even and calm. But she wanted to break that calm, to force that pent-up animal inside to come out. By God, he had started this and now she needed it.

Suddenly he was gripping her shoulders hard enough to bruise, shoving her down onto the desk. His teeth were bared and the look in his eyes was that of a feral wolf about to attack his prey. For the first time she felt fear, for this was every inch a man starved with need and driven by something she had yet to identify. But even the fear was tempered and matched with a ferocity of her own, the rage that had encompassed at him for the entirety of the week fighting its way back to the surface.

His lips found one pointed nipple and he sucked hard, biting down as he did so. She cried out in a glorious mix of pain and pleasure and arched her back shamelessly. Her nipple swelled beneath his tongue, sending shocks of electricity from her breast down to the heat between her thighs. Again and again, he bit down until she was keening, writhing across the smooth surface under her back. He was not gentle, but tenderness was not something she wanted just now. She tilted her head back baring her neck and he pressed his lips against the hollow at the base of her throat, then proceeded to suck and bite a scorching path across each breast and down her stomach. She twisted beneath him mindlessly, all desperate moans and cries, both trying to escape and press further against his tongue and teeth. A stray thought crossed her mind that she would be bruised later from this, bruises that she would have to creatively explain to Nicholaus, but then the thought disappeared and she stopped thinking coherently at all.

Once again, he lowered his head and kissed her hard, biting down on her lip, and she tasted a tang of metal, her own blood. His fingers separated the folds between her legs and were shockingly gentle as they explored her slick petals. She thrust her hips upwards - oh God, but she was begging - and he thrust two fingers deep inside. His fingers curled and she sobbed out a hoarse cry from a throat that felt parched. Her nails raked down his chest, leaving deep red streaks tinged with blood, a tattoo of her own.

He groaned as her hands reached his pants and they were shaking too hard to sort out the button and zipper. Dammit, why did they have to use laces of all things? Impatiently, she pulled herself to a sitting position on the table and shoved his pants down to his knees. She slowly grasped him and he gave a gasp and murmured something unintelligible under his breath.

Her eyes bored into his as she guided him to her entrance and his breath hitched, pupils widening into dark pools of heat and desire. He grasped both her legs at the knees and pushed them back against her chest as she braced her hands behind her on the table for support. Shivering with anticipation, she could feel the air cooling the moisture within her folds as he spread her, exposed her. For a brief moment, he hesitated, his eyes searching hers for something - oh God, was he seeking permission? She saw a flicker of concern behind the heated desire and wondered at it, but she was too far gone to be able to reason it out clearly.

"Please Kurt. . ." She gasped, desperately thrusting her hips upward, seeking, and begging to be filled.

He needed no further invitation. In one convulsive movement, he was deep inside of her, and she cried out at the sheer pleasure of his hardness stretching her. The brief gentleness in him was gone, replaced by an intense hunger. Pushing her legs back even further, he began to pound ruthlessly into the very core of her being. With each thrust, he brutalized that spot deep inside, sending waves of shocking ecstasy throughout her sweat-slicked body. Every sense seemed starkly aware: the taste of blood in her mouth from her swollen lip; the smell of him - leather, sweat, and earth; the sound of his moans and grunts as he pistoned relentlessly into her; the scorching heat between their bodies. Her head fell back, mouth agape, a brief thought surfacing - this is what it's like to be taken. Her body shook beneath his powerful thrusts and their incoherent cries came together in a chaotic chorus. The pulsing knot in the center of her being was tightening; building . . .

Oh God she couldn't . . . couldn't take this pressure.

It was too much; her body could no longer hold her together in one piece. With a scream, she split, body convulsing helplessly beneath him. But he did not relent, did not allow her to spiral back down. Holding himself deep inside her, he grinded massaged that spot with his hardness, keeping her at the peak till she couldn't breathe. Then she felt him stiffen, thrusting even deeper, and he was pulsing, spurting liquid heat deep within her. His cry joined hers and she felt his hips shake with the power of his pleasure. And for a time, there was nothing, nothing but shades of sensation rippling between them like an aurora shimmering in the night.

The feel of cool air over her sweat-slicked skin brought her mind back to clarity. She opened her eyes to find Kurt watching her, eyes still glazed with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His chest was criss-crossed with the marks of her nails, his lips parted and swollen. She wondered crazily what she looked like, hair disheveled, skin shining with moisture, bruises that she could already feel forming. She struggled to sit up but discovered she was too spent to move, her limbs trembling weakly with the effort. Quickly, he reached out and pulled her up against him. She dropped her head to his chest and closed her eyes, bombarded with too many feelings to even comprehend what had just happened. He rested his chin in her hair, one hand stroking the back of her neck. They rested quietly like this for a minute until a slip of memory resurfaced in her mind.

She pushed him away, waves of disgust and self-loathing reverberating throughout her body as she shakily slipped on her nightgown. Why did she allow that to happen? What the Hell was she thinking?

She got to her feet, her legs immediately wanting to buck from underneath her, but she managed to stop it and keep her balance. She felt Kurt place a gentle hand on her shoulder but she recoiled from him as if he had burned her. She saw him withdraw his hand from her as if hurt and she felt a vague satisfaction at knowing he was hurt. He should be hurt . . . he should never have compromised her like that; what if her mother or her father - or Heavens forbid Bruno or Nicholaus - come down the stairs and see them.

"Claudia -"

"Don't!" She hissed at him in spitting venom and she felt bitter tears come to her eyes as she spoke the word with no hesitation. Her arms moved to wrap around her stomach, at the baby growing within – at Kurt's baby growing within, the baby she wanted so desperately to be Nicholaus's right now – but the motion did not make her feel any better. In fact, it made her feel worse.

Without another word, she left him then, her destination not the bedroom she shared with Nicholaus, but the bathroom, where she would scrub every inch of Kurt from every pore of her body.