"Where do you think you're going?" Fenrir greyback's voice rumbled uncomfortably loud in the dawn light when Hermione rose and tried to creep from the bed she'd found herself in.
Busted.
Turning quickly, her clothes clutched to her chest while she cringed over her nudity in the early morning chill, Hermione met the wolf's golden gaze.
"Um..." she bit her lip. "Home."
He raised his eyebrows at her.
"You forgetting something?" he challenged.
Hermione glanced down at the clothing she clutched. Knickers? Check. Bra? Check. Shoes? Check. Jeans? Check. Shirt? Check.
"No?" she frowned, wondering if his nose was so powerful he could smell the scent of some other belonging she was forgetting in her haste. "I have everything."
She leaned forward, showing him the bunched belongings in her arms that she'd intended to change into in the bathroom so as to avoid waking him.
"Not talking about your clothes, girly," he said, rolling to his back and stretching an arm behind his head, watching her intently.
"Are you... Um... I thought you'd prefer if I just snuck out and let you sleep," she frowned at him.
"Snuck out?" he scowled. "To go where?"
"Home?" Hermione raised her eyebrows in return, wondering what he was playing at.
"Granger... this is your home now," he said, speaking as though he thought her stupid.
"Um..." she stepped back a little in shock. Was this some weird, territorial werewolf thing? "No, it's not. This was a one-night-stand, and now I'm going home."
He moved like lightning, suddenly up and off the bed in all his naked glory, invading her space and looming over her, making her tremble.
"Woah," Hermione muttered without thinking, stepping back from him slowly.
"You forget about this?" he asked, reaching for something on her skin and Hermione whined in agony when he dug a claw into something painful on her right shoulder.
"What? What did you...? Did you bite me last night?" she gasped in horror.
"Yeah," he frowned down at her. "And you bit me."
He showed her the perfect ring of her very human teeth embedded in the fleshy muscle at the top of his shoulder when it met his neck.
"You said the words, girly. You're mine."
Hermione's blood ran cold at his emphasis on that word.
"Not like..." she asked, her eyes going wide as they jerked back to his face. "Not like... yours? As in yours? Like... your mate?"
He simply waited for the reality to sink in.
"No," she whispered, her eyes filling up with tears. "No. No, no, no, no, no! We didn't. This was... I thought it was a one-night-stand... and now we're... married?"
"Mated, but whatever," he shrugged his shoulders, reaching to pry the belongings she clutched from her arms, having to tug them from her grip when she squeezed them tightly, unwilling to surrender them, fearing she might go into shock.
This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be married. She couldn't. This was Fenrir Greyback. He was a mistake she never should have made, not her sodding husband. Mate. Whatever!
"Girly," he growled when she wouldn't surrender her jeans, yanking on one end of them while he tugged the other.
"It's not true," she shook her head. "It's not. We're not mated. We're... no. This was just a bit of fun. A roll in the hay. A mistake."
He growled fiercely at her words, yanking the jeans from her grip violently and hauling on them so powerfully that Hermione was propelled directly into his arm, slamming against his chest with a wince.
"You're my mate, Granger," he snarled into her face, his hands finding her hips and lifting her against his chest, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck to keep from falling. "You said the words. You traded the bites. You're mine, witch. Until the day you die."
"No," she shook her head and he snarled again, terrifying her.
"Yes."
It couldn't be.
But it was. She knew it was. She could see the bite on his shoulder and feel the agony of his bite on her skin. Worse, the mate-bond was already at work on her body, making her skin tingle as she touched him, suddenly desperate for the feel of his hands all over her. No. This couldn't be. She'd made a mistake. He was a monster. She never should've let him get so close. They couldn't be mated. They couldn't.
"Mine," he snarled in her face, obviously sensing the way she fought the effects of the bond, not wanting to give in.
Hermione cried out when he lunged forward and sank his teeth into the wound on her shoulder again, reiterating his claim on her, fortifying their bond. Helpless against the lycanthropic magic, she knew she was doomed when she found herself emulating him, her teeth burying themselves in his shoulder and her throat growling Mine in reply, claiming him as he had claimed her for all of her days.