Haven't gone back over it or anything, so if there are mistakes or imperfections, sorry. I re-re-re-re-edit endlessly, but I just wanted to get this posted. I could probably rewrite half of it, but I don't have time (sorry excuse, I know; I haven't read this chapter in a looong time). I have kinda wanted to continue writing this actively, simply because the story is so much fun and will only get more dynamic/dramatic... Well, here's hoping. My life is pretty full and hectic!

Enjoy and please review. I love reading your responses and opinions and critiques.

BL

Chapter XXXVI: Alpha Female

When Delphia was becoming pruny and was completely limp in Fenrir's arms, unable to do anything but rest her head on his shoulder and moan softly, he decided it was time to get out of the water. It was darkening swiftly outside now and there were things to do. He hadn't seen his pack all day and while it was perfectly understandable why, he still had responsibilities. For example, feeding his pack. There was little food in the house earlier in the day, and now once everyone had been up, there was probably next-to-nothing.

On cue, Delphia yawned and struggled to toss her head, staring exhaustedly into Fenrir's neck.

"Fenny?"

He was never going to stop her from calling him that, was he? Sighing resignedly, he shifted her in his arms and somehow managed to crawl out of the water. She was still securely hugged to him, and he gave himself a minute's rest by sprawling out in the grass beside the river, resting her atop him. He could work on actually getting to his feet in a moment.

"What, little one?" he barked softly, rolling over quickly onto his knees, still holding her. He panted a moment.

"I'm hungry."

His shoulders sagged. He blew out a little sigh. "Alright. We'll get some food."

She thought for a moment. "Where?"

He groaned and shut his eyes. He was too tired for some bloody twenty questions, let alone with the whelp that had completely exhausted him. While he had always been thankful – more than thankful, grateful – that she was eternally eager for him, he had never actually spent a full twenty-four hours with her. Now he was wondering if he could handle satisfying her and handling his pack. Dealing with his Elders and a couple dozen children and teenagers wasn't half as soul-sucking, bone-wearying as she was.

Her voice piped up again, full of a yawn and sympathy. "Are you tired, Fenny?"

Damn it he wanted to hit her. Tired? He felt like keeling over and sleeping for the next week. And there was that stupid name again. Struggling, he got up to his feet uneasily, his muscles screaming and trembling their protest. Why the hell was he carrying her? He blinked, completely confused, wondering why he was adding this extra weight. It was enough trouble dragging his own sorry arse to his den, but to take hers as well?

She nuzzled his neck and let out a satisfied sigh, then a loud yawn. Squirming, she snuggled in closer to him, fighting to drape a listless arm over his shoulder. His head hung even as he cradled her tighter. That was why he was carrying her.

"Why aren't you talking?"

His eye twitched and he gritted his teeth. "Why are you asking so many bloody questions?"

Frowning into his skin, she shook her head, the expenditure of energy with just that making her dizzy. "Are you mad at me?"

Oh Merlin. He shut his eyes hard and willed himself some semblance of vigour. There was no chance he would be running anywhere anytime soon, but he could probably take a few steps without falling flat on his face. It wasn't her fault, after all, that he was so drained. He had done that to himself, to both of them. She couldn't even walk, she couldn't move, so what could he truly expect of her?That realisation boosted his ego, gave him just enough to step forward. He fought with himself and took another step. Biting his tongue gently, Fenrir forced a steady pace, moving carefully, purposefully through the wood.

As they came out of the trees, Fenrir's legs complete jelly and begging him for even just a few seconds' rest, Delphia squirmed in his arms and lifted her head slowly. He looked at her tiredly and she smiled, studying his face.

"I can walk now," she told him softly, lying so he'd feel better. He looked completely beat.

"Are you sure?" he wondered gruffly.

She nodded a bit, thinking to herself. "Yes," she finally said.

He shrugged and gently let her down, helping her stay upright as her balance wavered. "You're sure?" he added teasingly, some humour colouring his voice.

She frowned at him but her eyes were sparkling. "Yes."

He quirked a brow at her and studied her body. A smile started forming on his face and he fought desperately to hide it, to force it away. Her brow furrowed at his inordinately pleased expression and she gave him a look.

"What?" she wondered.

"Nothing," he rasped, choking on his laughter. He didn't want to tell her. He really, truly did not want to tell her.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Delphia scowled deeply. "Fenrir, tell me."

"It's nothing," he coughed out, having to cough a few more times to try and rid himself of his laughter.

Her hands dropped to her hips, where they rested as she leaned forward in challenge. "Damn it Fenrir. What's got into you?"

His eyes positively danced as he took in her nude body. "Nothing, whelp. Really. Now c'mon. The pack's probably wondering where we are. They haven't seen me all day."

She blushed slightly at that, the smell more obvious in the darkness than the colouring of her skin. "No," she whispered, twisting coyly before him, "they haven't."

He grinned and took her hand, leading her gently to the back door. Reaching for the knob, he turned it and pulled the door open, the rusty screech from the hinges causing them both to wince. Gesturing Delphia forward, he stepped in behind her and smirked a silent victory for himself, his eyes dropping to her arse and hips. He sighed wistfully, softly, so she could barely hear him. There were few better sights in the world, he knew that much. Her bent over or spread out on her back were a couple of his other favourites.

Leaning over, Fenrir dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. Delphia turned her head and smiled faintly at him, kissing his scratchy cheek in return. His chest clenched; he pressed his lips to hers and felt her smile as she kissed him back. Breaking away from her, he placed a hand on her lower back and guided her through the halls towards the living room. Before they got there, the door a couple metres off, Delphia stretched and turned to him.

"Fenny?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. "Darling?"

She quirked a brow. That had sounded more insulting than his usual idiom for her. "What are we doing tonight, anyway?"

Snorting, he stared down at her, his eyes opened to slits. "Hunting. Getting food. You do wish to kill someone, don't you?"

She shrugged meekly at that. "I'm a bit tired from you," she admitted, sucking on her lower lip but not tearing her eyes from his.

He had to smile at that, and he did. "You can stay home if you like. I can have something brought back for you."

"Really?" she wondered, shifting her weight uneasily. "I . . . I don't want to disappoint you. I can," she sighed, "I can still kill, if you want me to."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Disappoint me? Delphia, the Sonders might be a bit crazy, but insane you are not. How in ruddy hell would you disappoint me?"

Shrugging again, she scuffed her bare feet on the floor. "Because I'm not killing with you," she breathed softly, sounding almost afraid.

"Baby," Fenrir sighed, pulling her into him. "You don't have to learn anything here. Just satisfy me and you don't have to lift a finger." He hesitated before tentatively tacking on, "I'm not your mother; you can't disappoint me. Ever."

The look she gave him tore at his heart and he chucked her chin. "Don't worry about a thing. Just satisfy me," he taunted adoringly before pressing her back into his body.

She giggled from his chest. "I doubt I could even do that." Humming contentedly, she curled her arms around his torso and pulled herself in closer. She loved the feel of his body against hers, his flesh so taught and firm against her breasts and belly. Her head rested gently on his chest as his hands settled to her lower back, rubbing tenderly, just stroking her as he starting growling something akin to a purr from the back of his throat.

"Fenny," she murmured, absolutely wrapped up in him, "I," she broke off suddenly, her eyes going wide. She could feel the hair on his chest and stomach tickling her skin. Normally she liked the feel, loved being cuddled to him, but it abruptly felt wrong. "I'm naked!" she squealed, becoming awash in anger and horror. "Damn it Fenrir!" she cried, "Someone's going to see me!"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, they certainly heard you."

"Fenny!" she wailed pitifully, trying to pull away from him as he held on tight.

"Stop struggling," he barked, frowning slightly. "You haven't cared all day. You didn't even notice until now."

"But . . . but I was too tired to notice," she whined, still struggling against him.

Huffing in anger, he let go and watched her stumble. "Fine. But I'm not going back outside. You did bring something else to wear, didn't you?" He couldn't imagine someone who seemed so obsessed with being clean having only one set of clothes.

Catching her balance with a glower, Delphia nodded. "Yeah; in my knapsack. It's in your room."

He just stood there, a brow slowly arching. She didn't seem to be moving. Did she actually expect him to go grab it for her? "You know where my room is," he growled. "Go get dressed."

Her mouth opened to protest. Then she shut it, gave him another good glower, her hands balling into fists at her sides, and bounded off for the staircase. A little smile curled his lips as he watched her run, catching a good, long view of her body as she mounted the stairs to the second floor. She aggravated the hell out of him, that was for sure, but if he couldn't put up with that, then he was an idiot. There was nothing in his experience that lead credence to the thought of being anything near a fool, so he figured she was just a normal chit of a girl and that she'd grow out of it. Besides, he really enjoyed her body; he'd put up with near anything to have her wet and willing. So far, he thought he was doing fairly well.

Hearing the door to his room shut, a bit louder than it should have been (slamming doors, Delphia? How very pure-blood), Fenrir went into the living room where his pack waited, smirking and obviously trying not to laugh. A few of them coughed, rubbing their faces to hide their smiles. He collapsed in his usual chair, barely missing the pup that scrambled out of the Alpha's perch before he landed his ass in it and let out a heavy groan. Now that he was sitting, the odds on him lifting his body back into something resembling a standing position were slim, at best. There was no way he was leaving to go hunting tonight. Gazing out at the grouping of naked bodies, all faces expectant and turned to his, he just arched his brows.

"What?" he rasped, attempting to shake out his messy hair. He wanted to go to his room, grab Delphia, collapse in bed and sleep with her curled up against him.

"Are we hunting?" Aneya wondered, relaxing in her spot on the couch. A spark flashed in her eyes as the side of her mouth twitched. "Or is our poor Alpha too tired from his young mate?"

He glowered at her, ignoring the chuckles from around the room. "You've already expressed your disproval over my choice of taking a Feral, my Beta."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head quickly. Cold fear flooded her veins. "No, no, Alpha. You misunderstood me."

Scowling now, he snorted in anger. "Whether it's a joke to you or not, Aneya, she's my mate. Respect her, or I'll beat you."

"Alpha, please," she whined, holding up her hands for mercy. "I was merely teasing; we're all happy that you're mating."

He was too drained to beat her; he doubted he could even land one good hit. Still, the threat carried weight. He had never been too tired for anything before so how could they suspect and exploit such a thing now? He had also never had a nymph for a lover which meant, luckily, there was no precedent for such a situation. They'd never know, until he collapsed and started snoring on the floor. Shite, he was too old for this. Glancing around, he noticed that nearly everyone had been nodding. He sneered, still scowling, and looked away from them all. He was obviously irritable; he could admit that to himself. It didn't mean he could do anything about it and he wasn't going to admit to any lack of control before the entire gathering. Perhaps with a few of his favoured younglings who worried about their Alpha as a father, wondering why he was upset, or with his Elders. No one else.

His eyes lifted as he heard the soft padding of footsteps, bare feet on wood floor, and recognised the gait of his mate. She appeared in the room's threshold a moment later, catching his eye. A smile settled on her features. Relief blossomed in Fenrir for some reason – hadn't he been mad at her? He couldn't remember why. But he had been; or had he? Shrugging that off, he gestured to her, motioning for her to join him. It didn't matter. He wasn't angry with her any longer. If he had been at all. Merlin he needed sleep. At least he could gleam some repose from Delphia. Even when she was dressed it was a delight to watch her body move, especially since she was approaching him. No one said a word, some looked away, still unsure about the newcomer in their midst.

"Sit," he growled softly as a command, it coming out as a panting request. Lifting his arm up he made room for her when she hesitated. He studied her face and gave her a look. She wavered and then realised he meant for her to sit in his lap. Her still-pink face (he swore she had a sunburn) went a bit pinker but she turned gingerly and perched herself on his leg. His hand settled on her thigh and he used his arm to yank her back against his chest. Her head fell on his shoulder and lolled there, her face turned to his. He just continued to study his pack, thinking to himself, absentmindedly pulling Delphia more securely to his body. She kissed his cheek, completely ignoring everyone there, not caring that they could see. After all, she was wearing clothes.

"Why's she got clothes on?" one of the younger males asked from the floor, looking up at the girl who was supposed to be their Alpha female. She didn't look strong enough, didn't smell dominant. How was she supposed to lead them? If it wasn't for the smell of Fenrir on her flesh, the scent of their Alpha's ownership between her thighs, he wouldn't have thought her anything but a fresh meal.

Fenrir growled deep in his chest. "Why are you speaking without permission?" His eyes shot down to the boy. He frowned and gave the teen a fierce glower, along with the others he was grouped with. "Learn your place, or you'll get Aneya's beating, too."

The boy's eyes narrowed. "She's weak. If she didn't stink of your mating, Alpha, she'd be dinner."

Huffing in irritation, Fenrir felt Delphia's head lift before he could respond. She was studying the wiry teenager aloofly, as a minor curiosity. He could smell her anger, her struggle to suppress it. He doubted the others could; he was more in tune with her scents and moods than they could ever be. She fought to be uncaring, to not allow him to see her irritation or resentment at the boy's frank, crude reference to their union. Multiple unions.

"If you think Fenrir's beatings are bad, wait until I get my hands on you," she sneered, eyes glinting gleefully. "I have a wand."

The teen snorted. "Useless twig."

Fenrir fought the urge to wince, feeling Delphia tense. Sometimes he wished children didn't absorb everything one said.

"I can Crucio you," she snapped back, her fingers curling.

He frowned, shaking his head. "What's that?" he wondered, honestly not knowing.

Sighing, Fenrir spoke up. "It's a curse that will have you begging me to beat you instead. One more word out of you and you're not hunting tonight."

"But –"

"I said one more word, damn it!"

Even Delphia froze at the roar that issued from Fenrir, the room horrifically silent, all eyes wide and locked on him.

"Get to your room," he rumbled in a mutter, trying to calm down.

"Alpha," the boy whined, looking about ready to cry.

"Perhaps now you'll learn to shut your mouth when you're told," Delphia snapped, surreptiously searching out Fenrir's hand. She found his fingers and intertwined hers with his, squeezing, hoping that she hadn't been out of line for speaking for him. He squeezed back.

Narrowing his eyes at the Alpha pair, the teen snorted with anger and jumped up. Growling in his chest, he stormed from the room, leaving a wake of loathing behind him.

"Alpha," came Aneya's calm, too-consoling voice, "perhaps you were a bit harsh on him."

"No," Fenrir snapped. "I warned him and he spoke."

"He's a child."

"He's a man," he bit back. "He's killed, he's entertained himself with his victims; he has to learn to hold his tongue." The pack nodded as a sullen force. The lesson was for all of them, they knew. Someone had to be scapegoated and Loran had offered himself up.

Fenrir was too tired for this. His eyes drooped and he shook off his exhaustion, at least for the moment. "You're to go hunting tonight," he began, interrupted swiftly by Aneya.

"You? Not we?"

"My mate and I are staying home," he barked. "Do you have issue with that as well?"

She blinked and sat utterly frozen. "No, Alpha. I was just looking for clarification."

Lip twitching, Fenrir studied the faces of his Elders. "Take the pack hunting," he said, forcing himself to be overly calm, "kill if you wish. Steal as much food as you can. We have nearly nothing and my mate is hungry."

The group of Elders nodded promptly, vigorously at that. They watched as Delphia shifted, moving in closer to their Alpha. His arms dropped around her as he nearly crooned to her, snuggling her against his naked body. They knew she was showing them she was his favoured, that acting against her was acting against him. As a single being the Elders stood and broke up the pack into groups, leaving the Alpha pair to themselves. They left the house in a steady stream, heading out into the night to kill and steal as they wished and needed.

When the room was empty, Delphia lifted herself up and turned so she could look at Fenrir. He was half-asleep already, slouching in the chair, his chin nearly to his chest.

"Fenny?"

He grunted, his body jerking a bit.

"You're tired, aren't you honey?"

He grunted again, but a smile touched his mouth this time.

"You didn't need to get so angry, you know."

His eyes finally lifted to hers and his smile widened. "Can I just keep grunting, or do I have to start answering at some point?"

Delphia put a hand over the side of her face and laughed softly. "You did just answer, Fenny."

Chin dropping back down, he just grunted in reply, making her laugh gently once more. Her hand rubbed his shoulder consolingly and his eyes shut, a rumble of pleasure welling up in his chest.

"Can we go to bed now?" she questioned, her voice breathy.

He sighed, lifting his chin to let it drop back down in a nod. Delphia slid from his lap and took his hands, helping him as he struggled to stand with her. She stepped into him, her arms settling around his ribs. Looking down at the top of her head in surprise, he just grinned then and held her to him.

"I'm falling in bed and sleeping," he informed her, finding his voice again.

"I know," she murmured. "I'm tired too. You wore me out today."

He wanted to laugh at her, or smack her. He wore her out? Wasn't it him who just tore a strip out of his pack because he was irritable? And wasn't he irritable because she demanded too much of him? Merlin she had a funny way of seeing things. He wore her out indeed. It was her own fault her appetites were insatiable, not his. He just did his damndest to fulfill her and half-killed himself in the process. Then he felt her lips against his chest in a gentle kiss and his exasperation melted away.

"I'm not carrying you to bed," he grumbled. "You'll have to manage your own way up."

"Will you fetch my clothes tomorrow?" she wondered.

He set his jaw. Fetch, like her obedient puppy. She really had to learn to check her words better. He huffed with laughter. Hadn't he recently told himself that as well? Perhaps she meant it more in an obedient house-elf sort of way. He supposed she wasn't far off of the mark; he was a servant to her flesh. But Merlin he was tired. When he got her in bed, he was going to bury his face between her breasts, sprawl out on her and fall asleep.

"Let's go to bed," Delphia whispered, pulling from him to take his hand. She led his stumbling, worn out body up to his bedroom and opened the door for him. He tripped through to his bed and collapsed, barely summoning up the energy to watch her strip. But he didn't want to miss that. She stood with her back to him, almost completely nonchalant as she first took her shirt off and tossed it with his discarded, barely-used robe. Taking a moment to stretch and yawn, she then hooked her thumbs in her skirt and wiggled it off her hips, bending over to step out of it and pick it up. Fenrir groaned, unable to help himself, too weary to stop his reaction. Her slit was still swollen and moist from earlier; he could smell her, smell the remnants of his own spendings. He let out another groan as she straightened up slowly, her back arching, legs slightly spread. She was doing it on purpose, he knew, his belly clenching even as he wanted the torment to cease.

"Stop," he gasped from the bed, "whelp, damn it, stop it."

She chuckled darkly and stood upright, rolling her hips as she tossed her skirt with her shirt. "Why?" she wondered, peering over her shoulder before turning completely, brows lifting at the sight greeting her.

He whined and shut his eyes, not wanting to look at her as she came about, walking to the bed. But he couldn't stand not seeing her, not greedily taking in her every charm. He opened his eyes a crack and watched her get in the bed with him, sliding gently onto the clean linens. Her breasts swung slightly from her movements, her legs spread somewhat in nothing but a comfortable position. Normally he would have been endlessly thanking the moon for the level of comfort she had finally found with him and her body. Not right now though. She was so close he could touch her, touch her however he liked, wherever he liked. With whatever he liked. He could grab her and shove his face in her chest, grip her broad hips, nestle himself between her thighs; he always fit so snugly. Her scent drifted past him, that comforting smell of her: her sweat, her need, the inherent smell that was entirely Delphia. Loran had been right; the scent of their mating was maddeningly strong on her flesh. Whereas the smell of his semen was stern warning to other males, to him it just beckoned him on, to take what was already marked as his.

"You're torture," he muttered bleakly as his eyes opened fully, staring pointedly at her chest.

"And you're hard," she pointed out, looking back down at him. "Or nearly so," she amended, almost pityingly.

"Stop tempting me," he whined in return, tossing his head.

"I'm not doing anything!" she cried out.

"You did when you stripped. And you exist. That's enough for me."

She snorted. "I'm not offing myself to give you peace of mind. In fact, I may just have to torture you further now."

He wanted to sob at that revelation. He honestly couldn't take anymore. Shutting his eyes pointedly, he crossed his arms and tried to regulate his breathing. The throbbing of his growing arousal was making it difficult to concentrate, but damn it he was trying. He felt the bed shift, then warm, soft skin gently pressing along him, his penis tucked against wet flesh, tauntingly rubbed as Delphia's hips moved. A low, agonized groan escaped him and his eyes flew open to stare into her face. She smiled sweetly down at him then leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss.

"Do you want me on top?" she sighed, flicking his lips with her tongue.

He went rigid. Seizing her hips in sudden eagerness, he shifted her weight and thrust upwards as he pressed her down.

She giggled. "Was that a yes, Fenny?" she cooed, bouncing atop him.

He moaned. "Ohh, yes."