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Chapter Twelve

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*

He was dreaming.

And in his dream he was reaching out to her.

Begging for her embrace once more.

But when he stepped forward, she stepped back. She threatened to slip through his fingers – to taint his world with a sickening blackness.

Because she was fading – destroying the light that made him happy. Causing him to tremble in pain – to wish for nothing more than to feel her in his arms once more.

But she just smiled, running her fingers over his smooth skin, telling him that it would be all right. Telling him that she would back.

But she wouldn't be back.

And he knew that.

But he couldn't help but hope, he couldn't help but want to see her smile once more.

And then, he was sinking.

Water was filling his lungs, drowning him in his despair, searching for a way to reunite them once more.

And it was freezing his limbs, causing him to cry out in pain.

Causing him to beg for mercy.

But they wouldn't help him.

They never helped him, and he was used to that.

And he wanted her.

He wanted her to help him – to take away the pain.

But she wouldn't.

And he – he was drowning, his amber eyes dimming – turning glassy and dull.

And as he continued to slip into oblivion – as he continued to beg for her presence once more, he could someone else smiling, someone else reaching out to him. Telling him that it would be okay.

And he reached for her.

He reached for her to help him.

He reached for her to take away the pain.

But as his fingers grazed across hers, as he felt her warmth dancing across his skin, he could see her fading – disappearing into the darkness of his own heart. His own memories.

Disappearing into his oblivion.

And yet, she continued to smile at him as she slowly faded into oblivion, one word forming on her lips as the water lapped at his sides, pulling him under quicker and quicker. Filling his lungs with death.

'Friends.'

And as the water swallowed his body whole – as she completely disappeared from his sight, leaving him cold and empty inside, his heart wept.

*

Darkness wrapped around her figure, tearing at her skin, causing her to bleed.

But she didn't feel the pain – she didn't feel the ache that it caused within her, because she had grown immune.

Because she was numb.

And slowly, she stepped through the darkness, the wind dancing around her, mixing with that of the darkness, and she knew that he wouldn't find her. That he couldn't see her.

She knew that he was getting desperate.

Which was the only reason why he had sent her there.

Because he was desperate. Desperate to have his mate in his arms once more – desperate to have the woman he cared for and loved beyond all belief smiling at him once again. Because he ached to feel her body pressed against his – fitting perfectly against him – to feel his lips dancing across her jaw, her tongue darting out of her mouth to have the sweetest taste of his skin dancing across her taste buds.

He was desperate to grip her hips – he was desperate to feel her body sweaty and slick against his.

And her master didn't want them to be.

Her master wanted to see his heart broken – his soul shattered as he watched the only woman he truly loved in the arms of another man, kissing him – pressing up against him.

And her master knew that it would send him into a rage; cause him to burn with anger and hate.

Because she had betrayed him.

Because she had found another that was willing to give him what he had given up on so long ago.

But she knew that he still loved his mate.

She knew that he begged for her presence more than anything.

And her master had sent her there to give it to him. To point him in the direction of where his mate was waiting – waiting for him to stumble upon her in the arms of another man.

And if she looked deep enough, she could still see the image sketched in her mind. She could still see the young miko pressed up against the half-demon, their lips crushed together in desperation as they tried to taste every contour of each other's mouth. As they gave into the lust that was resonating within the girl – the power that she obtained.

The woman's eyes sparkled menacingly.

And she watched as he stepped out of his cave, the scent of a fresh rain dancing on his senses – the taste of a crisp morning lingering on his taste buds.

But then, he turned, his blue eyes sparkling knowingly in the dimming light, watching the shadows – waiting for her to step out and state her business.

The wind blew gently.

And then – he smiled, his fangs poking into his bottom lip, blood beading at the tips of his canines.

"You know," he said simply, falling into a crouch.

And her laugh was cold and bitter as sickening bile rose in her throat, knowing of what was to come. Of the truth that she would have to tell. And even though she would be having the pleasure of seeing him in pain – she knew that it would be more painful not knowing – that it would cause him to tremble in rage, and shake in pain. That it would cause his heart to shatter and a pain so sharp to race through his body – that was what she wanted to see. That was something that she craved.

But she also wanted to see his blood staining the earth – to see his eyes turn dull and glassy once more.

But her master wouldn't hear of it.

"Of course," she whispered, her fan snapping open to cover her face as she stepped into the light, " I always know."

"But it is not your knowledge," he said gruffly, leaning against the jagged stone, ignoring the way they cut into his flesh – stinging the wounds upon his back.

And it angered her.

It angered her because she knew that he was right. Because she knew that she could never be the one to obtain that knowledge – that she could never know without the help of her master and her elder sister.

And he could sense that anger, he could smell it by the spike of her scent – the way that she trembled – the way her eyes darkened, and by the way her eyelids flickered slightly.

And it amused him.

More than anything.

"Be that as it may," she spoke sharply, ignoring the knowing look in his eyes, "I have still learned to accept it."

A cold bark of laughter was all she received.

"I know where she is," she spoke, her voice a deadly quiet, and almost at once, he sobered up, his crystal blue eyes sparkling dangerously.

"You're lying," he growled suddenly, his hands immediately wrapping around her tiny throat, his claws digging into her flesh as he glared at his – his breath hitching slightly, " you don't have any fucking idea where she is. No one does."

"That's because, they aren't the wind," she responded calmly, snapping her fan closed with a flick of her wrist.

And he released her, stepping back slowly, his hands clenching into tight fists at his side.

"Naraku is the reason she is gone now," he whispered through the silence, doing his best to control his sudden spark of rage, "Naraku is the reason I have lost everything that meant anything to me. Why should I believe him now?"

The woman chuckled.

"Because," she drawled, pulling a single feather from her hair, "she is no longer yours."

And then, she fell into darkness, his rage curling around her body – burning her, causing her to nerves to pinch and pull in pain as he bit into her flesh – tasting her blood, watching as it dripped from his fingers, coloring the earth a beautiful crimson red.

But she didn't feel it. She was immune to it.

She was the wind.

And she floated away on it's currents, her heart clenching painfully as blood dripped from her wounds.

But her master was pleased, a cold dark chuckle resonating throughout his body – tainting the darkness once more.

*

He was bouncing.

And Kagome – Kagome didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to stop it.

And for the briefest moment, she didn't want to.

But then – then he crashed into the wall and his high-pitched wailing cut through the air, causing Kagome to shriek before darting over to the young kitsune child, hoping for some way to pacify him. Only – she couldn't.

Because suddenly, he was clinging to her, his fingers tugging at her kimono, his eyes oddly bright.

"Kagome!"

"Um, yes, Shippou-chan?"

The young kitsune smiled brightly, his tiny claws slicing through the layers of her tiny kimono.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Kagome fidgeted, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

"Um – yeah?"

But then, Shippou was suddenly serious, his tiny arms crossing over his chest as he regarded her carefully. And distantly, she was reminded of Inuyasha.

"Do you love him?"

Kagome blinked, incredulous.

"Excuse me?"

And then, Shippou was wailing again, his tiny hands curling around her ebony hair, pulling and tugging on it in desperation.

"Pleasetellmethatyoudon'tlovehimbecauseifyoudolovethatjerkIdon'tknowwhatI'lldoandthenhe'lljusttakeyouawayfrommeandIdon'twantoloseyou!"

"Huh?"

Kagome was slightly confused, unsure of what just tumbled out of the young fox's mouth, but still feeling extremely uncomfortable.

And for a moment, she contemplated acting like she even knew what he was talking about.

But when Shippou gazed at her with those big innocent green eyes that were, to her surprise, lined with tears she knew that she simply couldn't ignore him. She knew that she couldn't pretend. And she knew that she would have to understand.

"Nhhhhh," Kagome started out incoherently, "what was that you just said?"

Shippou blinked.

"Do you love him?"

Kagome stared, a lone eyebrow arching in question. "Love who?"

"Inuyasha," Shippou said as though it were obvious, his tiny hand patting her shoulder comfortingly as she blushed to the tips of her toes, " and if you do, you really shouldn't. Because he's nothing more than a big jerk, and an idiot, and he kicked me! Not to mention, he would just end up breaking your heart because all he really wants is the Shikon no Tama and to destroy Naraku because Naraku hurt him and made him kill his mom, I know this because his father told me so, but still!" Shippou pouted in mock indignation, "You're too pretty for someone like him!"

And Kagome – Kagome was speechless, unable to string together any coherent thoughts.

Because her, love Inuyasha?

She barely even knew him.

'And, besides,' she thought discouragingly, 'it was just a kiss. And – and he's been avoiding me! Which means he doesn't want me anyway, so I don't really understand what the big deal is. It's not like it meant anything.'

"Jerk," she mumbled quietly, clutching Shippou to her chest tightly.

"I know!" the young kitsune retorted angrily, unable to see the pain suddenly reflecting in Kagome's eyes.

'It was just a kiss,' she reminded herself, 'it meant nothing, and besides, we're just friends.'

But as Shippou continued to rant, his chest puffing out and his cheeks turning red, Kagome couldn't help but wonder if it truly meant anything.

Because she was still craving more.

She still wanted to feel his body against hers – she still wanted to feel his lips moving over hers – taste him against her tongue.

And distantly, she could feel the tips of her fingers beginning to burn – her side exploding with pain.

And she could hear Shippou suddenly screaming in agony, his tiny claws ripping through her flesh.

But she was too far-gone to notice.

Because she still wanted more.

She was still craving him.

'Inuyasha…'

*

Sesshoumaru turned to his brother, an eyebrow arched in question as they both regarded the two humans in front of them.

At first, he had wanted nothing more than to see his blade biting into their flesh – hear the tearing of their flesh resonating within his ears – but just as soon as they had spoken Kagome's name – just as soon as they had told them about the ordeal that they had went through – about their suspicions, Sesshoumaru restrained himself, turning to his brother to ask his opinion.

And normally, he wouldn't have cared. Normally he would have cast his brother's pitiful feelings aside, completely ignoring the fact that he truly felt anything for the girl.

But Inuyasha had marked her, and now, he had no choice but to step aside – he had no choice but to see what his brother truly wanted.

And he knew that Inuyasha sensed that.

He knew that Inuyasha sensed the responsibility that was suddenly cast upon his shoulders, weighing down upon him – causing him to suffocate within his own oblivion.

But he had created it for himself – he had allowed himself to go to far, to be fueled by the lust radiating off of the girl – by the raw power that she possessed. And Inuyasha had allowed himself to want it – he had allowed himself to be fueled by his fears – his fears of losing his only friend, and he had forgotten his place. He had forgotten that he wasn't supposed to touch the girl – that he was supposed to leave her untainted.

But now – every time Sesshoumaru glanced at her, he could see the darkness shimmering in her eyes – the corruption slowly bubbling within her as she craved his touch – as she longed for more.

And for once, Sesshoumaru didn't know what to do.

So he stepped aside, handing over that responsibility to his brother, because he knew that it was his fault to begin with. He knew that it was Inuyasha's doing, and that he would have to accept it.

And he did, only –

It was starting to become slightly infuriating.

"Brother," Sesshoumaru spoke, his voice causing the two humans to narrow their eyes at them, "speak to your charges."

And Inuyasha blinked, suddenly brought out of reverie.

"Excuse me?"

"They are now under your protection, brother. I suggest you figure out what you want done with them, and quickly."

Inuyasha bristled.

"What the fuck do you mean under my protection?" He yelled, his hands clenching into fists at his side.

Sesshoumaru merely stared at him, uncaring of the situation.

"They have been in battle with your bitch, Inuyasha. I suggest you figure out exactly what happened before you lose her completely."

"She's not my bitch!" Inuyasha screamed, completely furious at the audacity of his older brother.

"And yet you marked her."

"Fuck you!" Inuyasha yelled, his body trembling with rage.

And the humans, they merely watched in amusement, the female slightly incredulous.

"You mean to say, that a demon marked a miko?"

"Yes, my foolish brother marked the miko. Why do you ask?"

"Because," the woman explained, "it's practically impossible. The miko's and the demon's powers would clash with each other, and normally, both the miko and the demon would die, because one is pure and one is tainted. I mean, the only way for a demon to mark a miko is if it's done slowly – spreading throughout her body with her permission. Then and only then, could a demon successfully mark a miko. But, the miko herself, would most likely end up corrupted and tainted."

"And you fucking know this how?" Inuyasha asked, his body still shaking with rage.

"Because, I am a demon exterminator. I'm supposed to know these things. And, it doesn't exactly help when you've lived with a monk for most of your life," she responded with a jerk of her head towards her companion.

And Inuyasha merely growled, already feeling the thoughts that were running through his brother's mind.

"No," Inuyasha growled at Sesshoumaru, "there is no way in hell that I am allowing them clearance into the castle. We already allowed Kagome to stay here, and the fucking monk already thinks that she may have been possessed by Naraku."

"I highly doubt that you could keep them from staying Inuyasha," Sesshoumaru replied, his clawed fingers running through the pelt on his shoulder.

"And why the hell do you think that?"

The exterminator blinked as the monk tensed next to her, and for the briefest moment, she could feel the fear radiating off of him.

"Because I can smell it drifting around him – the disgusting scent of death – a curse."

And then, Inuyasha sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling suddenly as he looked at the two humans, his amber eyes burning with intensity.

The demon slayer sighed.

The monk shifted.

And Inuyasha pouted, growling slightly as his shoulders slumped in dejection.

"Fine," he growled angrily, "they can stay here, but they better stay the hell out of my way, the bastards."

And the exterminator, she looked as though she wanted to kill.

"Watch it, bitch," Inuyasha growled before standing up, ready to storm out of the room.

But before he was even able to take another step, it was rippling through the air – seeping into his body, causing his eyes to widen and his throat to go dry.

And suddenly, he collapsed to the floor, his lungs burning – tears streaming from his eyes.

Because he could feel it nipping at his skin – tearing through it – causing him to bleed.

And he could feel it awakening within him – the need to hunt – the need to feel blood running down his throat and flesh tearing beneath his skin.

And he wanted her.

And it was screaming through his mind, causing him to convulse in pain as his heart started to beat rapidly against his ribcage, his blood pumping faster and faster through his veins as the taste of her power wafted through the air, seducing him in a way that only she knew how to.

He wanted to taste her.

He wanted to taste her blood against his tongue – to see it dripping from his fingers – to see her lying beneath him, her breathing erratic and her eyes half-lidded, filled with lust. He wanted to hear her scream. Wanted to see her writhing as sweat dripped down her body, making her slick and wet – he wanted to taste her again. To feel her again.

And he wanted her power.

He wanted to kill.

He wanted Kagome.

And within that moment, as she continued to call him to her, as she continued to let her power flow through his body, he undoubtedly knew.

She wanted him as well.