Hunting was when he felt most alive, heart pounding, blood pumping, muscles aching deliciously. He loved every part of it, the chase, the sensory overload of smells and sights, but the best part was the prize. Just the thought of it made his mouth water. To his surprise Fenrir Greyback found that the anticipation of claiming of his mate, his prize, gave him much the same reaction and it was exhilarating. Unlike a normal hunt however Greyback was playing for keeps. The wolf's eyes glittered with excitement as he waited for Lilith to make her way to his cell. Tonight he would intertwine their fates.

Fenrir had thought and planned, played it all out in his mind and he was ready for the most important hunt of his life.

He lay in wait in the back of his cell on the cot, where there was just a little bit of shadow and when he turned his body to the right Thor's view would be obstructed. Where Longbottom normally stood would block Antonin, though usually he was too preoccupied with pacing to watch. It would be a test of Fenrir's stealth, speed and cunning. He welcomed it.

When Lilith finally arrived at his cell door she seemed to sense a difference in his demeanor and paused for a long moment, eyes raking him suspiciously. He watched and waited, face passive, though internally he was uncharacteristically anxious that she would get spooked and pass him by. Then a look of determination passed over her delicate features and Lilith made her way over to where he sat. His mate was braver than he'd given her credit for but he would need to teach her much and more about self preservation.

From the moment she made it within a foot of the wolf everything seemed to happen in one thumping heartbeat. Lilith watched something shiny go flying out of his large hand and slide across the stone floor with a metallic thrum. She turned slightly to see that it was a fork, brow creased while she tried to work out the why of it. And just as Longbottom leaned down to retrieve it, Fenrir leapt into action. He swooped an arm around her slim waist, pulling her against his firm body as he stood, her back to his chest. His free hand clamped down over Lilith's mouth as he spun her to the right and without hesitation thrust his fangs into her shoulder right through her cotton shirt. He felt her body stiffen and for one horrific moment his mate's heart stopped, her body crumpling in his muscular arms. Before Longbottom had even straightened himself, Fenrir lowered Lilith to the floor, laying her out on her back.

"Longbottom, quick!" he called as he knelt down beside a now breathing Lilith, much to his relief. "She fainted."

The guard came darting over, while around them the other DeathEaters burst into a buzz of "holy shits" and "what the fucks". As an afterthought the wolf licked his lips to make sure they were clean of his mates' very incriminating blood and almost groaned aloud at another sweet taste of her. Despite the slight guilt he felt that he'd actually made her faint, Fenrir's heart was doing back flips. Lilith was his now.

His and only his.

He took her hand between both of his as Longbottom waved his wand, the tip now glowing, around her head and torso. After a minute of quiet concentration her eyelids began fluttering and a soft moan passed her lips, flooding his body with relief. Then his steel eyes narrowed in on the wand and he felt as if he'd just seen it for the first time for what it truly was...freedom. The wolf's mind immediately began weighing the options, if they waited for the dark lord to rescue them the escape from prison would be flawless. But the escape from him would be just that much more difficult. Going now they faced unknown security measures, gods knew how many guards and unfamiliar territory on the outside, with only one wand. On the upper hand, if they made their move now it would be a day or two at least until the dark lord figured out what happened. A few days with the wilds to cover them and Greyback's instincts to guide them, there would be no trail to follow. With his mate claimed Fenrir wanted his freedom more than ever, wanted to make his dream of Lilith come true, well dreams to be precise. He'd dreamt of her every night since his revelation. Everything else just paled in comparison and fuck if he couldn't already see himself coming home from the hunt to find her waiting for him. Gods, his little witch was already turning him into a fuzzy little pup...but seeing the vision of Lilith lying beneath his furs settled it.

With a feral growl he lunged at the unsuspecting guard, knocking him off his haunches and onto his back, forcing the air from his lungs in a huff. Eyes wide with terror Neville struggled to keep hold of his wand, kicking his legs vigorously and pulling his arm back while pushing with the other, even as he wheezed sorely from the attack. But before he could even utter a spell Greyback's powerful fist came barreling straight down at his face and pummeled him with such force that his head bounced off of the floor. When his body went limp Fenrir growled with satisfaction and retrieved the wand, quickly casting incarcerous. He would let the guard off easy, had it been Erons however Greyback would have made time to return the favor and curse the hell out of him.

"Oi, what the fuck?" Thorfinn yelled, confused and excited all at once. He stuck his thick arms through the bars to try and grab his friends' shirt but missed.

"What's going on?" someone down the line yelled and floor five erupted into chatter and curses, more of the latter than anything.

Fenrir ignored them all to go back and check on his mate. Her eyes were open, though completely unfocused and hazy, like a misty meadow in the morning. Lilith struggled to sit up and though she moaned in pain, she kept trying.

"Just lie still." he soothed, gently pressing her back down.

The witch growled in frustration but obeyed and he realized that she either didn't remember or didn't realize it was he who'd inflicted the pain.

Gingerly he peeled back the layer of shirt sticking to her wound and her bra strap to reveal the damage. It was raw and bloody, four deep gashes that took up over half of her shoulder, but while it was ugly it was also beautiful. To Fenrir it was akin to a ring, a bond closer than marriage, a symbol of love and devotion and it was eternal. It would heal over but never fade and others of his kind would be able to smell his scent on her glorious skin and know who she belonged to. It also meant protection for his mate, for he was well respected and anyone that knew him would revere and protect Lilith; something Lestrange could never give her. Fenrir shifted into wolf form and began tenderly, lovingly licking the bite mark to ease the pain and staunch the bleeding. She sighed as the inferno that was her shoulder slowly began fizzling out and the wolf nuzzled her neck in response before resuming his labor of love. It would have been too easy to lose himself in the task and for several minutes he actually did, until finally the voices of his fellow DeathEaters called him back. There was still Azkaban to contend with.

Hope you enjoyed a little taste of the softer side of Fenrir, but don't worry there's plenty of wicked wolf in there! ;)