Chapter five: the Bloody Union
Grey, choking, smoke steamed out of Victor's mouth as he enjoyed his first cigar of the decade. He half gnawed on the damn thing out of boredom as his eyes scattered over the landscape. The sky had transformed into a blood red with strikes of purple and pink but he was not bothered by the slow turn of time. Drag after drag he found that his mate was indeed correct, these cancer sticks were no longer delectable for his tastes. Not that he would admit it to her. Still, he was going to finish it for the principle.
He kicked back and leaned further into his rocking chair on the veranda. His mind slowing almost to a halt as his senses took over and stretched over his territory. Soundlessly, his head craned back and his eyes smoothly shut.
Just yonder, the stream was gushing with the coming snowmelt, the birds singing for the sake of song, the trees groaning in the wind, the scent of fresh grass and pinecones. It was almost perfection. Not a shadow of any civilisation was around them. All was quiet as the sun lost itself behind the tall trees. Complete silence, even though he knew his cubs and mate were not too far.
Bliss.
"Father?"
He bit his cigar with a groan. "Whadya want, Nero?" He lazily cracked an eyelid at him.
His youngest son, though not youngest of all, and one of the two that became feral. Longingly, Nero stared at their land with the eyes that he shared with his father though his sallow skin came from his mother.
For a long stretch of silence, he merely gazed upon the land with a pensive visage. He drew in a breath which sounded laborious but Victor was not concerned. If Nero was truly sick then he would have smelt it from a mile, if not his mate first. No, Nero was simply troubled with his own matters that much Victor could tell.
Sharply, Nero threw him a side long look and opened his mouth several times only to close it, again.
"Spit it out, son" Victor grunted, visibly irate. "I didn't raise you to dawdle!"
Nero responded instantly, "How did you know you chose Mother to be your Mate?"
Victor chuckled slowly, his menacing baritone voice resounding in the silence that followed, and sluggishly rolled his head toward his son but kept his eyes closed, "You found a frail for yourself, son?" The amusement could not be hidden in his tone.
"Father" Nero evened out his breathing. "I need to know."
That explained the smell he had caught on his son; however, this was not the first time one of his sons had come to him about this issue. Truly, being a feral was to be alienated in some ways. You couldn't trust your instincts since your human side interfered with it on occasion. This had been an issue for Victor too when he had been young, but with age he disregarded his human side. For good, or for bad. Fortunately, none of his cubs had this issue, only when it came to mating and child rearing.
No doubt, his daughters had gone to his Mate for this same issue. He wondered how she handled them although he knew his daughters were far more resourceful and independent than any of his sons would ever be. Perhaps it may have been the influence of his first three daughters: Amelia, Sonya, and Inu.
Those three flew the den before they could even reach of age. Sonya, not as eagerly as the other two but she got there too. Now, if only his sons could take example of the females of the family. Truly, they were what brought pride to the Creed Clan. It was lucky that they had more daughters than sons.
That was not to say he was not impressed or proud of his sons' accomplishment. Dylan, Jason, William and Dave were basically the Canadian government. Not to mention-
"Father?"
Begrudgingly, Victor rolled the cigar in his mouth, contemplating. "I didn't choose. Instincts jus' came over me… I knew I wan'd her."
Nero stayed silent, knowing his father would continue, but that did not stop him from growing impatient. Victor pulled the cigar in his finger and mulled over it whilst his eyes caught the setting sun.
"It had been a while since I took your mother" all their cubs knew how their parents came to be together and it was a closely guarded secret. They were often told when they reached two digits in age. "It was strange…" his eyes glazed over as a memory pulled him in, and the timbre in his voice grew deeper. "I thought I would'a fucked 'er and killed 'er by then."
Another pause, and Nero's face became troubled.
"But I didn't. Don't know why. Suppose even the animal knew he had to be gentle like with her." He flicked the cigar, "It was with your mother I found out there was a big difference between fuckin' and matin'!" He puffed out a surprised breath, "Couldn't fuckin' believe it" he chuckled.
He slid a hand over his face from forehead to chin, "It was after the third month of fuckin' her that it happened. Somethin' jus' changed and took me by fuckin' surprise!"
He gently shook his head and took another drag, "And the first matin' is always the bloodiest."
;-;-;-;-;
The door flung open with such force that it rebounded and would have hit Noor in the back if Creed hadn't caught it. His other hand snaked around her hip and pulled her closer to his bare chest. She mewled as her arms began restricted but when he threw her on the bed she sighed and went back to her sensual ministrations on his chest.
They half clawed the remaining clothes off of themselves and were relieved when no other item came between their bodies. Victor nipped and clawed at her sweltering body and grinned a fang-bearing smirk when Noor shuddered as one of his claws drew over her sternum.
"You want somethin', frail?" Victor rasped, his growl rising in his chest.
Noor nodded, her eyes hooded and stared at him like he was the centre star to her universal.
"Nah" Vicor licked her neck, "Wanna hear you say it." He teased her with his tongue as it dipped lower and lower below her naval. Noor whimpered and gripped his hair, "Victor, please."
"Say it" Victor sniffed her snatch, "Say it, frail, or I'll keep you like this all night."
"I want you, Victor. I want you so bad." Noor lifted her hips but every time she advanced Victor retreated.
"Atta girl," he bit her inner thigh and drew blood. He mapped her body with that blood before the wound healed over and made her taste it as he brutally joined her. She cried into his mouth as he explored her mouth.
He tried to be gentle, really he did, but he could not get enough of her and she could not get enough of him it seemed. His eyes would snap open every time he lost himself and scorched her body in his vision. Every hump, every scar. As the heat rose between their bodies, and their muscles strained to keep up with their own passion, something heavy settled over them.
His pace slowed as he regarded her and she looked at him curiously. Her hand went to his hairy cheeks and cupped his face, "What's wrong, Victor?"
He almost groaned at her touch and his muscles threatened to crumble and let him collapse on her. This frail, no this woman, she had given him everything he had been denied in his childhood. Comfort, respect, patience, companionship, love and understanding. She did not cater to his every need but she went out of her way to make his day as positive and happy as possible without encumbering her own needs.
"Can't I look at what's mine?", absently Victor retorted.
She was independent but let him take the reigns sometimes. She acknowledged and respected his old traditions and even adopted some of them.
She was patient with him when he did not understand something and tried to show him a new way, a new life, one that was void of stress and agony. Though still connected, he stopped completely, just to memorise those big eyes and how they gazed at him with such tenderness.
Nothing but their deep breaths filled the space between them and suddenly he could see Noor's eyes dilating until even her iris looked black. They were so enlarged that he could see himself in their reflections and found the same had happened to him. Words were lost to them as they started to move again. Hurried, as if wanting to end their passion they frantically pushed and pulled each other.
Noor's claws dug into his skin and held him close just as he did with her. The bullets of sweat that lined their muscles were stinging now and the oxygen depleted with every thrust of their hips but they didn't care. All that mattered was them in that moment.
Something savage filled Victor's stomach as he felt his lower half tighten. His eyes scanned Noor's neck as she threw it back and cried. Mine. It had to be Mine. Mate.
The last thought had never occurred before. Never, and yet it was all he could think of.
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think and all around him was Noor. Eyes, ears, hands and nose all directed at everything Noor. Mate. Part of her protested when he pulled out yet once he had flipped her on to her knees, he was on her again. His large hands left her hips and cradled her to his torso as she settled from her orgasm, and he reached a higher climax not experienced before. Just as he plummeted from the crescendo, that savageness raised from his belly and into his mouth. With a mighty roar, his claws extended and he bit deep into her neck as he filled her.
He felt her throat vibrate between his fangs before he heard her scream, but he didn't care. There was only one thing on his mind, Mate! Make her his! Stay! Mate!
His thick sinewy arms steeled around her and kept her close. He felt her legs twitch around his hips, but it wasn't until he felt the blood pool around their heads in the bed did he come back to himself. The first thing he experienced was fear. Icy fear replaced the savagery in his gut.
When the haze lifted from his consciousness, it dawned on him that Noor was weak and her healing factor had slowed significantly. That meant that her broken hips, and more importantly, the holes in her jugular would not heal over if he removed his fangs.
Experimentally, he first retracted his claws and felt her hips buck at this. His hands caressed her hips and her whimpers died down. Then he began to remove his fangs centimetre by centimetre. The muscles and tendons were healing over, but he would have to keep his fangs there to keep her from bleeding out. It took hours but when they became less than scrapes, he felt safe to remove his mouth.
Even then, he let his hot tongue lick and lap at the blood that remained. Only when she was clear of all blood did he disengage them.
He expected fear, he expected anger but when he rolled off of her and finally looked her in the eye, he saw tears of joy.
"Victor… mate." She reached out for him hesitantly. This reluctance was not shared with Victor, who pulled her in firmly to his chest and nodded, firmly. "Mate."
;-;-;-;-;
The cigar was nothing more than a stub now. "It almost killed her but goddamn was she so higher than a kite after that. We both were!", Victor heartily laughed.
Nero shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Did you have to go in so much detail?"
Victor moved quicker than lighting, "You wanted to know so's I told you!"
When they calmed Nero broke the silence one final time, "But how did you know she would survive?"
Victor smashed the stub of cigar in his opposite palm, "Because she was my mate and I was goin' a be damned if I let her slip away." He stood and folded his arms, "Does that help with your fuckin' mystery?"
Nero nodded, if only a little intimidated.
As Victor passed him he had one last laugh, "Now go fuck your frail and find the meanin' of matin'!"
Later that night, when all was quiet and all were in the concaves of their dreams, Victor was up and gazing upon his mate with reverence never seen before. He clawless finger traced her neck and when she stirred, he shushed her and pulled her closer.
Relaxed and deep in sleep, Noor never noticed the way Victor shook as he held her with fear of what he could have lost the night they first mated.