I do not own Inuyasha or the songs used in this story.

Trigger warning: domestic violence, abuse, anxiety, panic attacks, and sex. 18+ Audience only.

INUYASHA

Leaning back on the bar, I scan the crowd for a familiar mop of black hair. Knowing Miroku, he's probably unconscious somewhere with a red handprint on his cheek, courtesy of his girlfriend.

Bank sits to the right of me, nursing a beer and trying his damn hardest to hit on the poor lynx youkai bartender just trying to get enough tips to help pay for college. She isn't ugly, but she definitely isn't worth all the effort Bank is pouring into her. His flattery must be working somehow though, judging by the shrill giggle that she unleashes behind me. My ears flatten further to my head and I curse myself for not bringing earplugs.

A hand claps my shoulder and the stench of beer radiating from Bank's mouth invades my sensitive nose, causing me to lean away.

"Bro, why are you being such a party pooper? He'll show up eventually. Grab a drink, and pull the stick from your ass. Loosen up, dude." His slurred speech is proof of how much longer he's been sitting at the bar waiting for the monk compared to me.

"Keh." Is my witty reply as he turns his attention back to the bartender.

We never really went to clubs, it was mostly bars or pubs. The music is so loud in here, the bass booms in my chest and my head is starting to throb in my temples.

We have gone out almost every weekend since college. Miroku insisted we go to a bar on Friday nights to unwind from the week's woes and share in "bro time." I only went to humor him and keep him out of trouble. But ever since he met Sango three weeks ago, he's been showing up late almost every Friday, sporting a fresh handprint on his cheek and the scent of his lechery.

Even with a girlfriend, he is still a perv. We all expected this girl to call it quits already, even Miroku himself. But he's hooked and for some unknown reason, she is too. He always liked them a little crazy.

Now he wants us to meet at a club instead of a bar so we could finally meet the woman who's stolen his affection.

I knew as soon as I walked in this wasn't any ordinary club, though. Club Jewel was a place that welcomed all walks of life. Youkai, hanyo, humans, monks, witches, mikos, you name it. Miroku said his girlfriend told him about this place, that her friend worked here or something? I could've sworn Sango was a human, and so far I hadn't seen any humans working here. I can't imagine a human wanting to surround themselves with the likes of our kind. Obviously, there were a few mixed into the throng of people, but their scents were saturated with that of the demons that surrounded them. They were few and far in between

Humans usually stuck together, still holding a reserved caution towards demons, despite the treaty that brought us to peace over a hundred years ago.

My nose twitches at a familiar smell. My ears swivel to the left towards the entrance. I sniff a few times, realizing that Miroku isn't alone. I recognize Sango's scent from what lingers on his clothes when he shows up for work. I've come to identify the slight floral perfume as hers. As they get closer to the bar, I smell something else on them. Lingering arousal.

So, that's why the lech is late.

"Hey, Inuyasha! Bank!" Miroku yells over the music. A brunette with her hair in a high ponytail holds his arm as he shoves his way through the last of the crowd and stands a few feet from us. She's wearing a pink halter top and tight black leather pants. Her brown eyes are accented by pink eyeshadow and mascara. Her straight white dazzling smile shines in the neon lights as she takes us in.

"I want you guys to meet someone. This beautiful woman is my dear Sango. My love, this is Inuyasha," Miroku points to me and I lift a clawed hand in a tight wave. He moves his hand to my right. "And this is Bank. These are the buddies from college I told you about."

She smiles and waves. "It's so nice to meet you guys. Miroku's told me a lot about you."

"Uh oh. All bad things, I hope." Bank says with a grin and a dangerous flint in his eye.

Miroku scowls for a moment, then his expression goes back to a grinning Cheshire cat.

"Don't get your hopes up, Bank, Sango comes from a long line of demon slayers. I wouldn't push her buttons if I were you." Miroku retorts, slinking his arm around her waist.

Bank laughs lightly. "I'm just being friendly." His hands are up with feigned innocence. "You know I'd never go after your girl, monk."

Sango turns her attention to me, ignoring the exchange between Miroku and Bank. "Miroku tells me you work with him at the Body Shop."

I nod.

Her smile falters, but only for a second before she continues. "My brother and I used to work on old muscle cars in our dad's garage."

"I work on bikes," I say flatly. I know she's just trying to be polite, and despite appearances, I'm not trying to be rude. I just don't feel like making conversation right now. I can feel my headache getting worse from all of the smells and sounds in the room, and I want nothing more than to sneak outside for a quick smoke.

"Oh!" Sango exclaims, ignoring my ill-manners and turning her focus to something behind me. "My friend loves motorcycles!"

Whoopidty fucking doo. When I don't reply, Sango looks around the club for a moment before her eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. She points to something in the distance. "There she is! Her shift must have just started."

(Chemicals - The Glitch Mob)

Well, now I have to see what the fuck got her so jazzed. I turn my head and follow her line of sight.

The vision I find before me steals the air from my lungs immediately.

There at the DJ's booth is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her waist-length wavy raven hair sways with her body, a midnight blue tint shining in the lights that dance above her. Her tight wife-beater tank top shows her black sports bra underneath, leaving only the barest hint of cleavage. Her pale creamy skin is so tantalizing, that I have to keep my jaw off the floor with both fucking hands.

I can only see a hint of her lower body as it's hidden behind the booth, but I can tell she's wearing a black skirt of some kind. She has headphones on her head, one side lifted above her ear so she can hear those around her. Her hands glide over the turntable, mixing music I can no longer hear.

I can't hear anything actually, save for the harsh rush of my blood in my ears. My heart is beating so fast, that it mimics the rhythm of a caged bird, ready to burst out of my chest at any moment.

I can't focus on anything except her, watching her move with a beat I can't identify, watching her full plush lips pull into an Earth-shattering smile, watching her dark eyelashes kiss the tops of her cheeks as she focuses on her work.

There's a stirring in my gut as I blatantly stare. I don't know why I can't look away. It's like her very soul is calling to me, pulling me in. I'm helpless, completely at Fate's mercy at this moment.

Gods, it's like I'm hypnotized.

I want this girl to look up. I want to see her eyes. I want to get closer to her. The fact that I can't smell her from here causes a frustrated growl to rise in my chest. Scent to an inuyoukai is more important than eyesight. Even to a half-demon like me, I use my sense of smell to navigate the world. Not being able to smell this mystery woman that's captivated my fucking soul in 15 seconds flat is pure torture.

As the song she plays gets to a part she likes, she tilts her head up to the ceiling and I'm blessed with the sight of her creamy neck. Fuuuuuck , I want to run my nose over her pulse point and-

"Yo!" Miroku's voice has me snapping back to reality. I flinch away from him quickly, flattening my ears to my head. He yelled right in my ear, the little shit. I turn to face him with a scowl just to see that stupid lecherous grin plastered on his face.

"See something you like, my friend?" He asks knowingly.

"Keh." I can't form a coherent retort with my cock harder than steel pressing against my zipper.

Fucking hell, I need a drink.

I turn back towards the bar and wave my hand to the lynx youkai. What the fuck was that? It was like my world had turned off and it was just me and that wench at the booth. I don't like the feeling of not knowing what that was. Is she a witch? Does she bewitch all men with her beautiful, gorgeous, enticing -

Get a fucking grip.

She's just some random wench at a club. She probably fucks and sucks any guy that bats their eyes at her. She could probably even pull most of the women in this room. Just a notch on a bedpost, that one is.

However, as soon as these thoughts enter my head, I shove them away. She looks so sweet, dare I say innocent. I want her to just be another dumb broad.

I just know that's a total lie. She's different.

Whoever or whatever she is, I force myself not to focus on it anymore. Maybe I'm just having an aneurysm or something. The smells and sounds are getting to my head, making my thoughts muddled and my reactions slow. I need a drink, a smoke, and a long night's sleep.

I finally get a beer and chug half of it as my friends talk. I'm not even paying attention until Miroku asks about Sango's friend. My ears twitch and turn towards them, all while keeping my eyes on the back of the bar in front of me.

"...roommate in college. She only works here on the weekends, but during the week, she's at her studio downtown. She's a painter." Sango chimes with pride.

"Is she single?" Bank asks. I could practically hear his smirk. I have to tamp down a snarl itching its way to the surface. To be honest, part of me wants to know the answer to his question too, but a searing strike of possessiveness doesn't want Bank looking at her at all.

Sango chuckles nervously. "Yes, but she's not exactly on the market. Her ex… wasn't a good guy. She's not the most trusting of men right now."

Now, that catches my attention and I inch around in my seat to face them. My face remains impassive, holding a bored expression so I won't give away that I've been listening the whole time.

Sango looks down at her feet as Miroku raises one brow. It's not any of my business, but the nervousness and fear that suddenly laces through Sango's scent put me on edge.

"Is that the guy you told me about? The one that's in jail now?" Miroku murmurs meant only for her ears but they forget how good my hearing is.

Jail? What the fuck, who is this guy? Why is he in jail?

Sango shifts her weight slightly and nods once. "Yeah, that's the one."

"What'd he do?" The question leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

Is this girl in trouble? Did this fucker hurt her?

Anger grips me like a vice, my chest rumbling inaudibly. I'm blindsided by the immense sense of protectiveness for a wench I don't even know the name of.

I'm fucking losing it.

Sango's head shoots up and her brown eyes clash with my gold. I can see it written all over her face, smelling the whirling emotions in her scent.

Fear, sadness, guilt.

She doesn't answer, instead turning her attention back to Miroku for a quick escape. "Do you wanna dance?"

Miroku, having the attention span of a four-year-old, immediately drops the heavy topic and takes Sango's hand.

"Of course, my dear." He smiles and they leave our little corner at the bar, disappearing into the crowd.

"I don't know about you, man," Bank says, knocking back the rest of his beer and placing the bottle down on the bar. "But I think our friend is pussy whipped."

"Keh. Whatever will keep his hands to himself." I say. The riveting sound of a slap and shriek from who I assume is Sango proves my statement wrong as soon as it leaves my mouth. At least he only touches her like that now.

Clearly, no one else was going to stick to the nitty and gritty topics being brought up this evening. It's for the best. I shouldn't be thinking about tight white tank tops, rosy flushed cheeks, pale, creamy skin I want to taste-

A song I recognize booms from the speakers and brings my attention back to the DJ's booth, much to my disme.

(Where Are You - Elvis Drew, Avivian)

I don't want to pay any more attention to Sango's mystery friend than I already have. I hadn't been this focused on a girl in a long time. Probably ever. I don't even think my ex, Kikyo, grabbed my attention the way this girl had.

Kikyo was supposed to be it for me. She was supposed to be the one, but my demon didn't agree.

Not without good reason, I realized. Kikyo hated my demon half. She was a miko and would use her priestess powers to lash out whenever we got into an argument. She called me things like "mutt", "flea-bitten", "savage", and "beast." Anything to belittle my heritage. Kikyo even went as far as asking her sister, Kaeda, if there was a way to purify my demon and turn me human.

I was so desperate for her love that I almost let her do it, too.

Then my demon spoke to me.

I'd never heard him speak, only the passing grunt, roar, or snarl in my head in times of peril. He's only ever broken the surface twice in my life, which is saying a lot considering I'm nearly 200 years old. Once was when my mother died and I went ballistic. The other was when I was clinging to life, getting beaten by villagers who wanted nothing to do with a hanyoupassing through.

Six months ago was the first time I had heard him speak. Ever.

I was sitting on my couch in my apartment while Kikyo sat next to me, trying to convince me to see her sister.

"She said it wouldn't hurt to try." She pleaded. Her brown eyes were cold and pinched with annoyance, but her tone was almost that of concern. Like she cared. We'd had this conversation multiple times. I was about to give in. I was just so tired of arguing.

Then he spoke.

"No."

The voice was deep and hoarse. It was far deeper than my normal voice and it boomed with authority and malice. I blinked a few times, thinking I had imagined it. I knew it was my demon, but I was shocked. I'd never heard his voice, and he sounded fucking pissed. He wouldn't repeat himself. That one word ringed with finality.

Kikyo and I got into a huge fight that night, and I finally told her to leave. I couldn't do it anymore. She left, tossing a look of pure disgust over her shoulder.

Fucking cunt.

I swore off dating. I knew the likelihood of a half-demon finding their mate was slim to none. There was no one that my demon would like, and the Gods wouldn't bless an abomination like me. I resigned myself to a life of solitude.

So, why the fuck can't I keep my eyes off the wench at the DJ booth?

I steal a glance at her, knowing I shouldn't. She's just fucking radiant. She dances

to the music pouring from the speakers. I wonder if this is the kind of music she listens to all the time? I wonder if she'd like some of the music I like?

Why the fuck do I care?

As I watch her, I can feel my demon stir. My human and youkai blood are waging war in my mind and my demon is slowly winning.

My eyes burn with hunger as they travel over her form, pausing in all of the right places. I shouldn't stare, but I'm too much of a bastard to look away. Sweat glistens on her chest and forehead. Her cheeks are flushed with exertion and my mind goes to unforgivable places. She turns slightly and I catch a glimpse of her round backside.

My demon fucking purrs.

When she turns back around, all of my resolve leaves my body. Her eyes lock onto mine and I momentarily forget how to breathe.

Startling blue I could practically drown in, like an ocean waiting to take me. They sparkle with an unknown emotion, but I could've sworn I see interest, awe, fascination, dare I say desire.

What's worse is that she doesn't look away, not a trace of apprehension on her flawless features.

She breaks eye contact first, focusing on something above my head. Or more like something on my head. My ears twitch under her scrutiny. She'd know I'm a half-demon just by that feature alone. I hold my breath and wait for the telltale sign of disgust to cross her features. But it never comes.

She smiles.

Her face lights up in utter fascination and joy, watching as my ears move to the noises around me. I tear my eyes away, feeling tightness in both my chest and my jeans.

I close my eyes and instantly regret it as an image of her bending over the bar and lifting up that short little skirt so I can see her perfect pink-

My claws dig into my palm as I press my hands into fists. I need to stop thinking about that stupid fucking wench. I need another drink. I need a cold shower.

I need to know her name.

KAGOME

I knew I was being watched while spinning. It's not uncommon in my line of work, but this was entirely different. I can practically feel his eyes drinking in my body and it scares me how much I don't really mind.

I spotted Sango when she first came in with Miroku. She told me that she had invited him and his friends to Club Jewel tonight, mentioning how she wanted to meet his friends without making them feel out of place. She knew that the club was demon-run and one of the few places that accepted people of all species.

I openly stared at the half-demon at the bar when Sango approached them. His waist-length silver tresses shined in the club lights, making them look like a silk waterfall cascading down his back. The adorable white triangle doggy ears on top of his head looked so soft, I could feel my fingers twitch at the idea of rubbing them. His muscles could be seen through his black t-shirt, hugging all of the right places, or should I say wrong places. Sinfully wrong.

Gods, I wanted to feel them ripple under my hands.

I'm very aware that I'm openly gawking, my cheeks heating when my mind takes a few inappropriate turns. He's wearing a permanent scowl on his face and I can't help but wonder if there were fangs hidden behind his full lips. I have to look away before the demons around me pick up the scent of my arousal.

I can feel his eyes on me as soon as I avert my gaze. His eyes leave a white hot trail of fire down my body. I can feel him examining me as I work. I play it cool, act natural, not daring to look up and catch his eyes. As much as I want to see what depths await me in his gaze, I can't let myself fall into that trap.

I have to stay on guard.

No matter how damn enticing the inuhanyo is, no matter how strong this strange magnet pulling me away is, I can't indulge myself.

After Kouga, I'm just not ready to look at men the way I want to look at Miroku's mysterious friend. I like Miroku, and he's good for Sango, but I can't bring myself to trust men again.

Two broken ribs and a subconjunctival hemorrhage will do that to a person.

I thought Kouga was the one. I really thought we would move in together and start a life together in the city. But I wasn't ready to take the next step in our relationship. The more intimate step.

It's not that I'm a prude. Or maybe I am. Being a 21-year-old virgin doesn't exactly scream "sexy." But I just wasn't feeling comfortable yet. Kouga and I were only together for a few months, and if I were honest with myself, I didn't feel that pull towards him. Sure, Kouga is attractive. Chiseled jawline, muscles for days, charismatic to a fault, and a smile that made panties drop.

Just not mine.

I thought I was falling for him, but what did I know? He was my first boyfriend. He said all of the right things. Looking back on it now, I realize I was just being led into a false sense of security. The last time I told him no to sex, he got so angry. Started calling me all kinds of horrible names. When I reached out to try and calm him, he hit me.

And then he just didn't stop hitting me.

I'd never seen him so angry. His eyes held a furious rage that burned into my flesh as I fell from the first punch. His yoki was going crazy, drowning out the calming reiki I tried to release. Kouga continued to kick me in the stomach.

Then he tried to lift up my skirt, and when I felt his fangs sink into my thigh, I finally snapped. I released enough reiki to knock him across the living room, leaving him unconscious. I never wanted to hurt him. I had hurt a friend in college with my reiki once and decided I'd never use it in anger again. But Kouga could've killed me.

He would've done a lot more than that.

As soon as I made it to Sango's, we called the demon enforcement and he was taken into custody.

I haven't seen him since.

That was four months ago. I stayed focused on my work, my paintings, and my life as a recluse. I got this DJing gig to keep busy throughout the week and help pay for a new apartment. I couldn't go back to the one Kouga attacked me in. I'd die a virgin before allowing another man back inside the safety of my bubble.

So, why am I finding it so hard to ignore the Adonis with cute puppy ears at the bar?

I feel his eyes on my backside and look up instinctively. His eyes are gold. They hold pure smoldering heat. His eyes are like the sun, burning through me, seeing all of my secrets. I can't help the tightness in my chest. I press my thighs together to relieve the sudden ache I feel.

An ache for his touch.

No one's ever looked at me like that.

No one's made me feel like this. Ever.

A movement above his head catches my eyes and I look up to his ears. They wiggled.

My cheeks hurt from smiling like an idiot. He's just so damn attractive. And I can almost see his yoki flare, responding to my reaction.

As soon as he looks away, I rip my eyes from his adorable appendages. I need to focus on the music. I'm at work, for Kami's sake. I need to concentrate on that instead of some silver haired half-demon.

(Wrong - MAX ft. Lil Uzi Vert)

After about an hour or so, I stop thinking about him. It was tough going, but I immersed myself in the music and let my mind go.

Someone taps on my shoulder. I turn around a little too fast, preparing for the worst. I sigh when I meet light honey brown eyes and a mop of unruly brown hair.

"You can take a 15, Kagome, I'll take over for you," Hojo says with a kind smile. Hojo is the club owner's son and has had a huge crush on me since I started. He knows I don't see him that way, but it's never stopped him from being nice. He's almost unbearably kind.

"Thanks!" I say, removing the headphones from my head and handing them to him. I step away from the booth and run a hand through my hair. I'm sweaty and the air in the club is starting to feel too thick to breathe. I need to step outside for some fresh air.

I don't bother trying to find Sango in the crowd as I pass through. I figure she's still dancing with Miroku and I don't want to make it awkward by interrupting them. I head towards the bar and grab a bottle of water from Kitty, the bartender.

After taking a few gulps, I decide to look around at the patrons surrounding the bar. I see the black haired demon that sat next to the inuhanyo, but the golden eyed Adonis isn't anywhere in sight.

I mentally kick myself. It wouldn't matter if he was here or not. I'm in no position in life to try flirting with a stranger. For all I know, he could be just as bad as Kouga.

I'm probably just tired and need some fresh air. That's it. No need to get disappointed about the lack of a stranger's presence.

I put my water bottle under the bar counter and head for the doors leading to the back alley.

INUYASHA

I throw down the butt of my cigarette and crush it under my foot. The smoke fucks with my nose, but never so much that I can't discern scents for long periods of time. I just needed to get out of that club. I was going into sensory overload and I just wanted to find Miroku and tell him I was heading home.

I reach for the door to go and do just that when it's swung open from the inside.

Along with the door hitting me in the shoulder, the most intoxicating scent sucks me into a vacuum of absolute bliss.

It is absolutely amazing. My muscles relax almost instantly, the alluring scent calming every nerve in my body.

It's like walking in the forest after it has rained. The scent of freshwater, lavender, and a hint of honey. It coats my tongue as I take a deep inhale, my nose twitching. The scent is so strong, that I'm blinded by it. I take a staggering step back and blink a few times.

My eyes land on the owner of the scent and my demon lets off a purr that vibrates deep in my gut.

Oh, shit.

It's Sango's friend, the Goddess with raven tendrils sticking to the side of her face from the sweat adorning her forehead and cheeks. She's flushed like she just battled the crowd of people inside to get to the backdoor.

She's a good foot shorter than me, the top of her head only able to reach my chin. Despite her height, her legs go on for fucking days. Her waist is so tiny, that I could probably cover the expanse of her lower back with one hand. Her skirt flares around the middle of her thighs and she has on combat boots with long white socks that reach her knees. Her chest rises and falls with her breath. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth and I want to reach out and lick it-

"I'm so sorry!" Her angelic voice breaks me from my inner ramblings. "I didn't mean to hit you with the door."

When I find nothing to reply with, I turn to my default settings. Being an asshole.

"Watch it next time, wench," I mumble. My permanent scowl remains on my face, feigning boredom. On the outside, I'm a mask of complete indifference.

On the inside? I'm freaking the fuck out.

Her beautiful ocean orbs widen and her shock is palpable.

Then she really surprises me.

Plump lips twist into a snarl while she crosses her arms over her chest. I swallow the groan rising in my chest as her arms push her tits up.

"It's Kagome. Ka-go-me. Not wench. " She speaks low and enunciates every word like I'm a toddler. Her cheeks burn with anger.

It's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen.

"Kagome. Mate."

Oh , fuck.

I had to have heard that wrong. There's no way I had a mate. There's just no possible fucking way in hell. I wasn't worthy of a mate. Especially not an enticing, ethereal spitfire like the one in front of me. I sniff the air subtly. She was a fucking miko. I had a miko mate?

Shitshitshitshitshit.

I should be terrified by the amount of power I can smell on her. But instead of the aggression I expect to follow her harsh tone, her reiki engulfs me, calming my nerves and pulling me in like a warm caress. My yoki reacts in kind, creating an electric current between us.

Grunting, I step to the side to let her pass. Kagome brushes past me, her bare shoulder grazing my arm. Her hair whips around me as the wind sweeps through the alley, carrying her scent straight to my nostrils.

I almost choke.

The close proximity, though brief, allows my sensitive nose to pick up on some damning information.

Kagome is pure.

As in, never touched by a man, pure.

I close the door behind her and swallow hard.

Am I drooling? Oh, yeah, great first impression, Inuyasha. Insult her and then drool over her like a… well, like a fucking dog.

Ruffling through my pocket, I pull out another cigarette, light it, and take a deep inhale. I use sheer will to get my hands to stop trembling.

I can't go back inside now, what if something happens to her? She'd be out here all alone in an alleyway with merciless demons not even 20 feet away. What if someone tried to hurt her? Take her?

The thought makes me growl, low enough to be missed by human ears. She's a powerful, beautiful, virgin miko. Working at a fucking demon club. No way was I leaving her unattended. That overwhelming sense of possessiveness sweeps through my veins again, only now do I know why the feeling is so strong.

I have to protect her.

"Mate."

I am so fucking fucked .

"You shouldn't smoke, you know." She says behind me.

Gods, her voice is like sugar. So sweet and smooth. I want to hate it. I wish I found it annoying and unbearable.

But honestly? She could read me instructions on how to build an Ikea table and I'd probably come within seconds.

I turn and face her, trying not to think of how beautiful she probably sounds when she comes. "Maybe I like doing things I shouldn't do."

Kagome rolls her eyes, a small smile dancing at the corner of her pink lips. When she looks at me next, I swear I see a flash of longing in her cobalt eyes. It's quickly masked by curiosity.

"What's your name?" She asks.

"Inuyasha."

Her smile grows and my heart does a weird flipping thing in my chest.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Inuyasha." Kagome replies kindly.

"Is it?" I respond without thinking. I'm on autopilot. I'm probably fucking this up. Should I flirt with her? Do I even know how to flirt? Is that what she's doing? Flirting?

No, idiot, she just asked your fucking name after you called her a wench. You're definitely blowing this.

Her smile droops slightly but doesn't disappear. She levels me with a challenging stare. "Why wouldn't it be?"

My brows knit as I send her a glare.

"Because I'm not a nice guy." My voice is husky and gruff, aiming to intimidate and deter her.

Kagome doesn't flinch. "Yeah, I caught that."

Oh, so she wants to play?

"Wanna tell me why a good girl like you is working in a place like this?" I ask.

"Oh? Because you know me so well, Inuyasha?"

My name rolls off her tongue like honey and I have to keep my eyes from rolling back into my damn head.

She can try to deny it all she wants, putting up a sassy front. But I know she's exactly what I called her. A good girl.

Too good for a bastard like me.

My cock shouldn't be this hard right now.

I tilt my head a moment, considering the pint sized spitfire glowering at me. Her eyes are melting holes into mine, but her lips are curled into a deceivingly sweet smile.

My demon growls low in my head and my mouth moves without permission.

"You're playing a dangerous game, baby girl."

She fucking smirks.

My stoic expression breaks for a fraction of a second, revealing my surprise. Her eyes shine with a teasing, tantalizing defiance. I have to fight the urge to reach out, fist my clawed fingers into her hair and pull her head back, baring her to me. The temptation to bend her over my knee and spank that perfect round ass until it's crimson is overwhelming.

We stare each other down, both of us too stubborn to look away.

Whoever looks away first, loses.

My demon wants her submission and if my dick got any harder, I think I might bust the seam of my jeans.

"You should go back inside, Ka-go-me." I say, my voice coming out as a low growl. "Don't you know these streets are dangerous at night?" I need her to get away from me, but I'll be damned if I break first. She needs to learn her place, and my demon would be happy to teach her.

"I can take care of myself."

My hackles rise at that remark. No way was my bitch going to be put in the position of having to 'take care of herself.' That's my fucking job.

My demon speaks for me before I can stop his words from slipping through my lips. "Be a good girl and go back inside, Kagome."

It's a demand, and she picks up on it instantly.

I know calling her that is crossing a line, but I can't help it. Kagome is a good girl.

I hear her breath hitch in her throat, her eyes glazing over with lust for the briefest of moments. She blinks a few times to clear the fog, but I see it all the same. Kagome never takes her eyes away from mine. We stare at one another for several more moments before she finally takes a step towards the door.

"I'll see you around, Inuyasha." Kagome's eyes spark with mirth, her lips turned up in that teasing smile. I find myself mirroring her.

"My good girl."

I take one more deep inhale of her scent, wanting to revel in it before it leaves with her. Then I note the slight spice that now accompanies it.

Fuck me. She's turned on.

She wants to be told what to do. To be dominated. To be my good girl.

I hold my breath, using sheer willpower to stop myself from sinking my fangs into her neck and claiming her right here and now.

I watch her every move as she walks back inside. As soon as the door shuts behind her, I feel an immediate chill. She took her warmth with her and I want it back by any means necessary.

And that scares the fuck out of me.

The realization feels like a cold, icy bucket of water being poured straight down my back. Panic flooding my veins, I start walking to the parking lot. My demon's snarl grows louder with every step I take away from the club.

Away from my mate.

I growl low in my throat. Reaching the parking lot, I pull my keys out of my pocket and get on my red Agusta. I'll text Miroku and let him know I wasn't feeling well and head home.

I can't go back inside. If I do, I'm more than likely going to do something stupid.

Like bend her over and mount her right there at the bar.

Gods, I'm so fucked.

KAGOME

I make it home around 2AM. I don't know why, but I was disappointed when I didn't see Inuyasha walk back into the club. I probably scared him off. I never know how to talk to guys, and he made me so flustered and nervous. I was a puddle at his feet, hot and bothered all around.

He made my mouth water, while at the same time, too dry to speak.

My knees shook in his presence and his eyes.

Those Aurelian eyes took me to a whole other world. He fled me with images of unspeakable things.

And when our arms brushed each other, I felt nothing but white hot heat zing through my body. My arm vibrated, my skin tingled, and my thighs clenched.

Inuyasha exudes pure dominance. My panties were getting annoyingly wetter the more I thought about him. The way he growled my name sent a shiver down my spine. The way he pushed my buttons, called me baby girl.

The way he demanded my submission through a single predatory look.

"Be a good girl and go back inside, Kagome."

I had to stifle a whimper when he said that, my thighs clenching in hopes he didn't smell the fresh flood of arousal that branded my panties.

Inuyasha's ears were trained on me the entire time we were in each other's presence. As I went inside, they tweaked with my movements, his eyes exploring my body like he could see everything . He had a predator's glint in his eyes-

I've never been looked at like that.

Desired.

Wanted.

I mentally stomp my thoughts of Inuyasha down. I'm tired and I need to get up early. I can't let myself get carried away.

He was a guy. A man. A half-demon. A half dog demon.

He could be like Kouga.

As soon as the thought enters my mind, I dismiss it entirely. No, Inuyasha's nothing like Kouga. He was rough and tough when he spoke. Shit, he even insulted me. But there was a sense of safety with him. My reiki seemed to feel at ease, his yoki enveloping me like a warm embrace. No, he's not like Kouga.

Ugh, quit thinking with your vagina, Kagome. Men are only ever after one thing.

I climb the rickety steps to my apartment. I pull out my keys and unlock the deadbolt and doorknob before shoving my way in with a graceless oof. Dropping my purse and helmet on the floor next to the door, I kick my boots off alongside it.

I live in a studio apartment with a completely open format. It was the cheapest thing I could afford on short notice. Once this big painting commission is done, I'll have enough money to afford a better, safer place. Until then, I'm slumming it like a true starving artist.

I throw my keys on the coffee table and head straight for the bathroom, peeling off my sweaty clothes that reek of sweat, alcohol, and smoke.

Inuyasha's smoke.

I always hated the smell of cigarettes. But he made it smell so good. He smelled like pine and a fresh spring. And tobacco.

Get a hold of yourself.

After a 45-minute ordeal in the bathroom, I dress in an extra large White Stripes t-shirt that I found at a thrift store 3 years ago. It's stained with paint and reaches the top of my thighs. I've foregone pants and have decided to just crash face first on my bed.

I fill my head with thoughts about what I need to do tomorrow. The commissioned piece is on the top of my list. It's an abstract piece that takes all of my time and energy considering the size of the canvas is as big as a short bus.

Colors of all hues and variants flood my mind as I picture the piece in my mind.

Maybe I could add more reds.. maybe golds…

I succumb to sleep quickly, the last thing I see behind my eyelids are two orbs of amber shining with longing and hunger.

I jolt awake to the sound of pounding on my door.

Groggily rolling over, I immediately regret it. It was 2pm.

Fuck.

I wanted to get an early start and wound up sleeping nearly the entire day away.

Too busy dreaming of a silver haired God.

Stumbling out of bed with a speed I didn't know I had, I look through the peephole and sigh, unlocking the door and swinging it open.

Sango beams at me, two cups of coffee in hand.

"Good morning, sunshine." She chimes. Her smile is bright and cheery, immediately raising the hair on the back of my neck.

Sango isn't bright and cheery unless she's about to break someone's neck or tell you terrible news.

I grunt, making a grabby hand at one of her coffee cups. She chuckles and hands me one while stepping inside. I close the door behind her and follow her to the kitchen.

"So, what's got you sleeping until the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday? I tried calling you, like, seven times. You're usually up by dawn." Sango says, leaning against the counter and sipping her own coffee. Her eyes are bouncing around the apartment, refusing to look anywhere in my direction.

I take a gulp of my coffee as well.

"I meant to wake up earlier, I just overslept," I reply. "Why are you giving me a wake-up call, exactly?"

Sango stares at the far wall, her face pale. I know she's nervous about something. Sango is my best friend, we tell each other everything. She looks like she's about to tell me something I'm going to hate. Her expression is one I've only seen a handful of times, the last time being…

Wanting to rip the bandaid off, I sigh. "Out with it, San."

After another long pause, she finally says the two words that send my entire mood into a dark pit of turmoil.

"He's out."

My world tilts and I'm suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. I swallow hard on the bile making its way up my throat, actively fighting the urge to throw up the coffee I just drank.

I thought I was over the fear that haunted me since that night. I didn't think Kouga had his claws still dug deep into my psyche like this. And that fear only had one outlet for me.

Panic.

My throat closes, my knees almost giving out as the tremors take hold of my muscles. My body isn't my own as I force my eyes closed.

I can't breathe.

I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe-

Sango's hands grab my shoulders in an attempt to ground me. "Kagome, listen to me." The look in her eyes is intense, determined. She's completely serious and I force myself to focus on her mouth forming words that barely reach my ears. "You are safe . I will not let anything happen to you. He will not be getting anywhere near you, do you understand me?"

I nod, my voice held in a tight ball in my throat.

I wipe at the tears I didn't notice were coating my cheeks. My panic dissipates and numbness replaces it immediately. I'm scared. I'm terrified. And I know that Sango means every word she says, but despite her reassurances, I can't help but feel doubtful. Sango is a demon slayer, yes, but she is also a human. Kouga is a full-blooded wolf youkai. He beat the shit out of me in 2 seconds flat. I imagine he was only using a fraction of his strength then. If he came for me now, I don't think I'd be so lucky. Wolf demons are possessive, and Kouga is the most possessive of them all.

Inuyasha could protect me.

No, that's ridiculous. I only met him once. He didn't even seem that interested. Not that I'm interested.

No, the last thing I need right now is an alpha male with possessive tendencies.

I just felt so safe around him, though…

Sango breaks through my mental tailspin. "Good. Now grab a bag and fill it with your shit because you're staying at my place."

Her words ring with finality. I want to argue, but the truth is, I just don't have it in me. I'm so tired, and I just want to feel safe. Even if Kouga doesn't know where I live now, I know I would feel safer at Sango's.

"I'll pack a bag, but I'm going to the studio today. I missed a lot of daylight and I only have two weeks left to finish this piece." I say.

"Fine, but I'm picking you up at the studio no later than 8, you got me?"

"I got you."

"Great!" Sango exclaims, happy to get her way. Her smile comes back to her face with a vengeance. She tosses her half-empty coffee cup into my wastebasket and starts towards the door. She turns to look over her shoulder at me as her hand rests on the doorknob.

"By the way, if you plan on bringing your death contraption, I'll make you sleep on the couch."

I scoff half-heartedly, speaking around the lip of my coffee. "Fine by me, your couch is comfy."

She shakes her head with a smirk and leaves.

I know she hates the fact that I drive a motorcycle. It's my pride and joy though. I love the feeling of wind in my hair, power between my thighs, and an open road in front of me, stretching as far as the eye can see. I can go anywhere, do anything.

I toss my now empty cup into the wastebasket and head to the bathroom to answer nature's call. I decide to just throw on a pair of athletic shorts and running shoes, not changing my shirt. I was heading to the studio, my second home, there's no need to look presentable.

That's just what I tell myself to feel better as I grab my keys and helmet, walk out the door, and lock it on the way. My studio is downtown, a couple of blocks away from my old apartment, before I had to move here 15 minutes away. It's on a strip down Center St. and anyone walking down the sidewalk can see into the open space and watch me paint. I never minded. I love that people will stop their leisurely strolls to peer into the floor-to-ceiling windows and watch me create art. The studio is soundproof and completely my own. I bought it 2 years ago after working two jobs all throughout high school and college. It's my home away from home.

Shit, it's just my home, period.

I get to the studio and turn on the lights. I put my stuff down on the far table in front of the door and walk towards the center of the room. Once inside, I usually ignore the audience in the window, and since it's the middle of the day on a Saturday, plenty of people are out and about. I walk up to the school bus sized canvas and pull the white sheet cover off. It's a splatter of mostly blues and purples right now, only the slightest hint of violets and reds. When it's finished, it's going to look like an abstract depiction of a fallen angel. Broken wings, broken spirit.

My client's personal notes included " despair and torment." It's my job to capture that.

It's what I do best.