A/N: I've gotten a few reviews stating that the timeline of this story is confusing. I'm very sorry. I went back and added the dates to previous chapters and continued doing so in this chapter. Basically, three years passes from the end of SWtL to FwTW. Once this story starts, which was on Friday, March 2nd 1999, the days happen pretty consecutively after that. There are no time gaps.

As for those in Hogwarts, SWtL ended with Ginny, Luna, Rogan, Miles, Lillian, and Shadow's fourth year. Draco, Neville, Ron, Hermione, and peers were at the end of their fifth year. So Draco's peers would be one year out of Hogwarts during FwTW, while Ginny and her peers would be coming to the end of their last year at school.

Sorry again for doing a poor job making this clear. I'll do better in the future.

…

Confrontations

~ Saturday, March 10th 1999 ~

Remus chuckled as Teddy carefully scrapped his peas onto the floor where their new puppy, Ander, could lick them up.

"What?" Tonks asked, turning from Marissa who had conveniently gotten her attention by asking if they could go to the park tomorrow.

Teddy smiled innocently at his mother, making his eyes turn baby blue. She smiled at him and ruffled his curly brown hair. This made Remus' chuckle turn into a full blown laugh.

Sirius wrinkled his nose as Tonks grew more suspicious and noticed the puppy's actions. "Turning on your own son, Moony." He shook his head with mock sadness. "How terrible."

"No dessert for you, young man," Tonks scolded her little boy.

Teddy stuck his tongue out.

"I get dessert, don't I, Papa?" Marissa asked sweetly, flipping her long hair off her shoulder. Her amber eyes stared up at him expectantly.

"Course, darling. Good behavior is always rewarded," Sirius answered with a sniff. "Jinks!"

An elf appeared with a bow. "Yes, Master?"

"Fetch our dessert, if you would."

"Yes, Master."

"I'll take Teddy up for his bath." Remus smiled at his wife when she shot him a relieved look. She fought a hard daily battle trying to discipline the kids when Sirius constantly spoiled them.

Teddy looked about to cry, but it turned into giggles when Remus nuzzled his neck. The two year old babbled about random things as they climbed the stairs toward the big bathroom. Ten minutes later, Teddy sat in warm water and bubbles, making noises as he played with his toy boats. Appropriately, his hair was dark green and his skin was blue.

Remus laughed. "Turning into a merman, huh? We'll have to call you Fishy instead of Teddy."

The boy laughed and splashed his father. "Bath with me!"

"Are you saying I'm dirty?" Remus asked with an arched brow.

"Dirty! Need bath with Teddy!" The toddler stood with surprising quickness and latched onto his father's neck, almost succeeding in pulling him in.

"Hey! You're a sneaky little bugger. Definitely too much time with Uncle Sirius." Remus carefully saved his neck and began soaping Teddy's hair.

"No fun, Daddy," Teddy pouted, little arms crossed.

Remus was about to answer when a pop sounded behind him.

"Sir, there is a guest here to see you. He is waiting in the parlor."

"Thank you, Jinks. I'll be right there."

Tonks slipped into the bathroom and kissed him as he stood. "It's Severus. Sirius is with him. Marissa is up in her room getting ready for bed." She cast a drying charm before smoothing his grey-streaked hair out of his face.

Remus nodded tightly. This was the first time Severus had been to Grimmauld Place since Shadow had fallen into a coma. Usually the man summoned them if he needed to speak to them. Stomach tight with tension, he hurried downstairs. He found Sirius scowling deeply at Severus who stood calmly by the fireplace.

"He's here. Now can you bother yourself to tell us why you've come so late?" Sirius barked.

Remus placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Severus. Is something wrong?"

Before answering, he cast several spells to make sure no one could enter the room and to prevent spying. His dark eyes pinned the other two into stillness. "Shadow has awakened."

Sirius staggered. "What? Really? How? When?" But he didn't want for answers. He was already moving toward the door, practically trembling with excitement. It didn't open thanks to Severus' spells. "Hey! Let me out!"

"Not until you understand the situation," Severus answered with a disgusted sneer.

"How is his condition? Do you need assistance with his healing?" Remus asked worriedly. He knew his cub would be in for a hard recovery. His body had deteriorated to dangerous levels.

"He woke Wednesday…"

"Wednesday!" Rage coated Sirius' vision red. "And you didn't tell us immediately? What in the hell is wrong with you?"

Remus again blocked Sirius from attacking the other man. "Sirius, stop! Will you calm down and listen! You're acting like a child!"

Sirius was so shocked at his friend's tone, he did come to a stop. He stared at as if he'd never seen Remus before.

"How is he mentally?" Remus asked, taking advantage of Sirius' silence.

Severus turned to face the fire. "He is very well considering he has completely merged with all his alters, but I fear he is not stable. We've been helping him exercise and using restorative relaxants in his bath water, but still he is in pain. I believe the pain helps ground him, distracts from his mental state, but he has had several nightmares and a few panic attacks despite this. I suspect that having people around whom he doesn't trust fully will distress him in his weakened state. That is why I have not informed you of his condition sooner. I reasoned it would be better not to know, than to know and not be able to see him."

"He trusts us, Snape!" Sirius snarled, hands fisting at his sides. "How dare you imply otherwise."

"Sirius, Shadow trusts us but not as much as he trusts his father and Draco. It isn't a good idea to upset him while his physical condition is still so shaky," Remus soothed. "His body must be under a lot of stress. Organ failure and illness are very high risks. He could die without very careful handling."

Sirius gasped, his anger forgotten. "Die? What? But he's awake…" He trailed off as he took in the solemn expression of both Remus and Severus.

"That is why I have come, Lupin. Shadow has caught some illness that I am unable to diagnosis with my current level of knowledge. He has a fever that is resistant to fever-reducers."

"I will come, of course," Remus answered immediately. "Let me go get my bag."

Severus nodded gratefully and ended the spell barricading the door.

"I'm coming, too!" Sirius immediately announced.

Remus paused, but Severus waved him on. He faced Black with a glare. "Did you not hear us? Shadow is in critical condition. He must be handled with care or we will lose him for good this time."

"I'll be calm. If he get's upset, I'll leave," Sirius insisted. "You aren't even sure our presence will distress him."

"Perhaps it is not certain that it will cause Shadow harm, but why risk it when there is no benefit to your presence anyway?" Severus responded with cold practicality.

"It might help him to know he's cared for and we love him," Sirius countered. His blue eyes hardened as he gazed at Snape. "I'm going unless you render me unable."

"Do not tempt me," Severus sneered.

Sirius was saved by the return of Remus. "Shall we go?" the werewolf asked carefully, aware of the tension in the room.

Severus stalked forward until he stood inches away from Sirius. "If he shows the least amount of stress and you do not leave, I will not hesitate to take you up on your offer. Are we clear?"

"Very." Sirius had no illusions that whatever Severus used to incapacitate him would be painless. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't let it come to that.

"I will have the same promise from you, Lupin. If he becomes distressed…"

"I will leave, of course," Remus answered easily.

"Then let us go." Severus swept past both men with deadly grace despite his pronounced limp.

Sirius rolled his eyes while Remus smiled, but both of them were too distracted to really engage in banter. Shadow was awake! It was the day they'd been awaiting for years.

They followed Severus outside and Apparated within seconds of each other a half-mile down the road from Snape's house. It was as close as the wards allowed them to go. The ten minute walk seemed to take hours before they finally stepped inside the outwardly rundown home. Remus sniffed the air delicately. It usually smelled of Draco and Severus, but now Shadow's scent again filled the air as well. He smiled happily, but his joy was lessened as he scented the pain and illness mixed with the scent of his cub. He and Sirius practically stepped on Severus' heels as he led them upstairs. The three men came to a shocked stop as soon as they reached the second floor.

Shadow lay on the floor of the hallway, sweat-soaked and panting. As they watched, he struggled to crawl forwards. His arms trembled violently, but he was obviously determined. Severus rushed over. His eyes widened as he touched his son's shoulder. The heat was incredible. The fever had obviously gotten worse.

"It's okay. I'm here," Severus soothed as he carefully turned Shadow so that he was sitting, leaning against his chest.

"Draco…" The name was a worried plea.

Severus paled and quickly cast a spell to determined if Shadow's skin had been broken. He sagged in relief when it revealed his son was uninjured. "Help me carry him to bed," he asked, looking up at the werewolf. He could lift Shadow from a bed or chair but not from the floor due to his crippled leg.

Shadow turned, thinking his father was addressing his boyfriend. Instead, his feverish eyes found the form of a strange older man. He tensed, confused.

"Why can't you use a spell?" Sirius asked quietly, following behind Remus. He was overwhelmed at the sight of his skeletal godson.

"The healing magic in his system is delicate," Remus answered as he crouched to pull Shadow into his arms. "Using magic on him could upset the balance and either cancel the healing charms and potions or lessen their effectiveness."

Shadow was shocked to his very core that his father allowed this man to touch him. A second stranger came up behind the one touching him. He was outnumbered! Flashbacks of the graveyard, of his Uncle and Dudley, of Dumbledore torturing him while saying he had only his best interests in heart, the fear shattered his confusion and shock, and he lashed out weakly with his arms.

Remus jerked back as if struck, releasing the teen, as the scent of terror filled the hall.

Severus instantly hunched forward, covering Shadow's body with his own. "You are safe. It's merely Lupin and Black. They won't hurt you."

"Draco!" Shadow finally screamed, his pitch high and desperate. His breath came in harsh gasps. His heart rocketed against his ribs. Dots crowded into his vision and he knew he'd pass out soon, becoming helpless and vulnerable to these men. "… Draco…" he wheezed, knowing his love would protect him from everyone and everything.

"We're going," Remus said tightly, already moving back.

He turned to grab Sirius, only to see his friend go flying back. Sirius hit the corner of the wall with a loud crash before tumbling limply down the stairs, unconscious. Remus eyes went wide and an instinctive snarl twisted his lips as he stared at the creature before him. He blocked the first violent grab, but Draco was too fast. He lifted Remus up bodily and flung him after Sirius.

Severus had his wand up and aimed as his former student prowled forward. His eyes were glowing silver and there wasn't anything human in his cold, deadly expression. Severus felt mental powers clawing at his mind, trying to paralyze him. His Occlumency shields held but just barely. Thin lips lifted in silent warning, revealing distended canines.

Shadow felt his heart do a leap before beginning to slow. He was safe. Draco was there and that's all he needed to know. His head fell limply against the chest behind him, tilting to the side and exposing his neck as he sighed, exhausted once more. "Draco…"

Severus watched as the blond's eyes fastened on his son's throat. He knew instantly that Draco had just reached his limit of control. There would be no reaching him. Without hesitating, he cast the strongest Blasting Curse he could.

Shadow's eyes widened as Draco was slammed backward. His lover went rolling and came up in a crouch, literally snarling. For the first time, he noticed the glowing eyes, the sharp fangs, and Shadow's stomach dropped in dread. What had happened?

Draco came to his feet and sprinted forward, almost on all fours. Severus was ready. He spelled the rug to come to life and wrap itself around the maddened vampire. Draco slashed out at it, but it wrapped him up faster than he could destroy it. Severus then summoned the nearest chandelier. It broke free of the ceiling in the greeting hall and flew upstairs, unwinding as it went. It wrapped around Draco's struggling form, imprisoning his arms to his chest and toppling him over as Severus made the metal a hundred times heavier. A howl of rage escaped Draco's throat, the sound terrifying in its volume, but the scream of absolute longing and despair that followed was exponentially worse.

"Stop it. You're hurting him," Shadow cried, shaken.

"I'm protecting him from himself," Severus argued sharply. "He'd be devastated if he ever hurt you. As it is, he will be inconsolable at the fact he tried to attack you at all."

"But he wasn't!" Shadow protested and squirmed in his father's strong grasp. "He was protecting me. He came when I called out to him for help."

"At first, but that was not his intention in the end." Severus carefully leveraged himself up. "Help me," he demanded, tugging on Shadow's arm to get him to rise also.

"You don't know that. You don't know what he was going to do. Draco wouldn't hurt me!"

Severus finally got Shadow on his feet and was able to sweep him up into his arms before Shadow's legs could give out once more. He carried him as quickly as he could back into his bedroom and laid him down. "Rest. I will take care of Draco."

"But…"

"Rest. That is the best thing you can do for him right now," Severus insisted. Without waiting for a response, he left the room and quickly spelled it so no sounds could get through.

Draco was still thrashing and howling. Severus carefully stepped around him, ignoring the snapping jaws at his ankles. The wisest thing to do was let the blond wear himself out. So Severus left him alone as he hurried downstairs to check on the others. Remus was just coming to, but Sirius was still out cold, his face already beginning to swell.

"What happened?" Remus asked groggily.

"You were mildly concussed. Black even more so."

"What?" Remus turned and saw his friend. He quickly cast healing charms to prevent brain swelling. "Draco…"

"Hasn't been able to leave the house in several days due to Shadow's need of constant care. It has shredded his control. He obviously was closer to breaking down than he realized."

"Will he be okay?"

Severus nodded. "Once he exhausts himself, I'll give him his potion. It will give him enough control to go out and take the edge off his cravings."

"How?" Remus asked curiously. They had never said what Draco did to keep things under control.

Severus cursed mentally at having given so much away. He knew Draco wanted no one to know what'd been forced to do to remain human. It would literally break him if Shadow ever got wind of his activities. "Don't concern yourself about it. We need to clean up this mess."

Remus let it go. Severus was right. Sirius needed care and there was debris and a hole in the ceiling to deal with due to the missing chandelier. Besides, his mind was still a bit scrambled from the hard blow to his head. He probably wouldn't understand Severus' answer right now anyway.

xXxXxXx

~ Sunday, March 11th ~

Hermione groaned. Pain shot through her head as she moved her stiff neck. She tried to see how bad the injury was, but her hand was stuck beside her. She moved the other only to find it was also held in place. Her heart rate kicked up. The pain intensified as she opened her eyes, but she had to see. Her worst fear was realized. It was dark except for the light coming from under and around a door at the top of the stairs. She was tied up with rope and chains. It smelled like dust and damp earth. A basement, she was in a basement. She was tied up.

"Dursley," she whispered in horror.

This couldn't be happening. Her panic reached its peak, and she thrashed against her bindings, only managing to hurt herself further. Nausea rolled through her gut; her head throbbed in time to her racing heart. It forced herself to still or be violently sick and then pass out. The pain was incredible. She flinched as she remembered racing for that tree, the sound of the crash, the impact… Hot tears burned her cheeks as they slid down her filthy, blood-streaked face. She sobbed until she couldn't anymore. She laid there, breathing deep, pain and exhaustion making it hard to think.

All that disappeared, however, when she heard the heavy footsteps. She froze, eyes wide, her whole body locking up, not even breathing. The door to her prison opened. The light immediately blinded her, sending agony through her head. She must have whimpered because she heard Dursley laugh.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he asked as he came to a stop right in front of her. "Looks like you freaks are nothing special after all."

"What do you want?" she sobbed, shaking in fear.

"Do you know what it's like?" Dudley asked softly. He crouched and smiled when she flinched away from his hand. She couldn't go far, however, and he stroked her hair almost gently. "Growing up with a freak, having to deal with his shite? He was nothing but trouble for my family. And what did we get out of it, huh? My parents are dead."

"Don't do this," she begged.

"Shhh," he soothed and lifted her chin so he could look into her terrified eyes. "This… This is nothing. I was fifteen when I found my parents butchered. Their blood covered the walls. The smell was so thick, I can still taste it. He cut them up like animals. He murdered them."

"It was Death Eaters!" Hermione cried.

"Oh no. I know the truth. It was Harry. Harry killed them. And I'm going to find him, and I'm going to make him pay." He released her chin and stood, his eyes cold. "My father was too lenient on the freak. He should have killed him when he found him on our doorstep. You all should be killed."

"No," she moaned, low in her throat, terrified for her life.

"Since you were friends with the freak, and because you've realized the error of your ways and forsaken magic, I'll give you a chance. I'll let you go if you tell me where Harry is," Dudley promised.

"He's dead!" Hermione yelled desperately. "He died in the war!"

Dudley tisked and walked to the right. Hermione paled as he opened a toolbox and lifted out a heavy wrench. "I understand that this is hard for you, but you're going to have to do better than that. Think of this as a test at that school of yours. One you desperately don't want to fail."

"I'm not lying!" she shrieked. "I'm not! I can prove it! I can get you a paper! It reported his death, everyone mourns him! No! Don't!"

Dudley lifted the wrench and brought it down on her shoulder viciously. "Don't lie to me, bitch!"

Hermione screamed as agony exploded through her system. Panting harshly, gasping at the pain, she was barely able to see as he raised it high, an unholy grin splitting his face. She thought of Ron. He had died for her. Now she was going to die at the hands of this psycho a mere three years later? Her fear caught fire, transforming into rage, and she drew deeply on the power she'd denied for so long.

Dudley bellowed as he was flung back by an invisible force. He knocked over boxes and went tumbling to the floor. Hermione scrambled out of the melted chains, the withered ropes. Her legs wobbled, her shoulder screamed in agony while the arm hung limply at her side, but she was determined to make it out of this basement alive. She ran for the stairs, stumbling. Dudley roared, and she looked back to see him come to his feet, enraged.

"You lying, evil FREAK!"

Hermione screamed and bolted for the door. His hand caught her ankle just as she reached the top. She went down hard on her bad shoulder. Blackness swallowed her, but she fought against it, knowing she would die if she passed out now. Beefy hands went around her throat. Hermione kicked weakly. She was going under. Death's cold touch shivered through her. She bucked, denial screaming through her mind. Dudley released her with a shriek of madness, his palms burnt.

"Is everything okay, Dudley?"

Hermione turned her head to see a door. It was being opened. A young man looked in, his eyes going wide.

"Help me!" she rasped, begging as she reached for him. "Please help me!"

Dudley snarled and backhanded her hard.

Ears ringing, still fighting desperately against unconsciousness, Hermione felt Dudley's heavy weight leave her body. The sounds of a scuffle, cursing, then a deafening bang. Hermione jerked, eyes wide as she watched her kidnapper stumble, blood blooming on his shirt. He staggered and went down. Her rescuer was shaking, eyes wide, a gun in his hand. It fell with a clatter, and Hermione burst into tears.

"Thank you…" she sobbed over and over. "Thank you."

He didn't answer her. Instead, he numbly went to the phone and dialed the police.

xXxXxXx

Shadow stared at the ceiling, hardly noticing as the shadows grew longer as the hours passed and eventually the room was plunged into darkness. His father had come earlier and asked if Remus could tend to him. Shadow had agreed. With prior warning, he was able to brace himself for the presence of someone new, although he didn't like it at all that he was completely depended on Severus for protection.

He knew intellectually Remus wouldn't hurt him, but his instincts dictated mistrust and his gut reaction was fear. Too many people had hurt him terribly in his life who shouldn't have been able to. It would be a long time before he was able to relax with others besides his most trusted loved ones around him, and so far that included only two people.

After being tested and treated by the werewolf, his father returned with food. Severus had granted him the day to rest and had left him mostly alone, except when he came in every three hours with demands that he eat. Shadow hadn't used the time to rest, however. His thoughts churned over Draco and his condition. He didn't need Severus to tell him that Draco had become infected with vampirism, a magical disease worse than even lycanthropy. There were some groups who advocated werewolf rights. There were none who supported vampires.

Shadow hadn't studied the condition in depth. All he knew for sure was that there was no return, no cure, and unlike with werewolves there was no remaining humanity left once the disease took over. The rest was left to his imagination, and he had a very vivid one. Draco's screams and mindless, feral gaze had told him enough.

All day, he contemplated his options. He was no fool. He knew his limits. His body was a wreck, and his mind was precariously balanced. He was highly vulnerable. Any small thing could tip him over and do irreparable harm, but the thought of doing nothing as Draco suffered was unacceptable.

Draco had stood by him for years and supported him against unbelievably horrible odds. He planned murder in Shadow's name, turned against his father, suffered the death of his mother, became an orphan, and had not once blamed Shadow or turned his back on him. Draco had helped Shadow stand after he shattered more than once. He had endured Demon, Boy, and Seraphim, but more than that, he had loved every aspect of him, even when Shadow hated him for it.

He knew now. He remembered. Draco's kindness, patience, and understanding would never be forgotten. In the midst of powerful fear, Draco had been a safe companion. The blond had played with him and shared the frightening joy of simple Wizarding toys. He had witnessed the extent and power of Demon's rage, and instead of fleeing, he stood between him and Aurors, trying to protect him. Draco had also given himself fully into his care. He had submitted sexually and had become a supportive member of his pack. Without Draco, Shadow would have been alone. Worse, he would have been lost.

The feelings he had for his lover were too complex and deep to really explain. It went beyond love, need, gratitude, dependence, friendship, or any other word he could think of. Words just couldn't express the sheer emotion he felt for Draco. Then to add to all that, Draco had stood by his comatose body and bathed him, read to him, and continued unwavering in his devotion. Shadow literally could not bear for all that to be returned with inaction and helplessness on his part when Draco was suffering. Draco and he… They belonged to each other in a way that only they could understand. Not even Severus truly grasped how deep their bond was.

And that thought naturally led to how he'd marked both Draco and Marissa when he'd been Seraphim. He remembered the desperate need to forge a tangible connection to his pack, the people who had joined him and became his family. Of course, that family was larger than he'd realized at the time. It included Severus and Neville, even Remus and Sirius. But for now what he focused on was the fact that he had marked Draco. It gave him a way to find and monitor him.

The problem was, Shadow's magic was completely tied up in helping him heal, plus his physical weakness limited his ability to control and manipulate magic. He could hurt himself, even fall back into a coma, if he overextended himself. Shadow was aware enough to know he couldn't trust himself to recognize that line before he crossed it. But what else could he do? Leave Draco alone, distressed and suffering something he should never have been exposed to in the first place? Hadn't they all suffered enough?

Decision made, Shadow planned carefully. He thought he knew of a way he would be able to help and also limit the risk he was taking with his health. So he brooded as the sun slowly sank and darkness fell. Severus came and turned the lights on, bringing in another tray of spiked porridge. Tonight it was beef.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Shadow answered shortly. He kept his head lowered, afraid his father would see he was planning something. Fortunately for him, it seemed Severus was tired and distracted. To further distract the man, he asked, "How's Sirius?"

"Regaining his mind. Lupin is certain the mutt will make a full recovery by morning." Severus focused on his son's face, watching it carefully. "Would you be up for a visit before he departs?"

Shadow wished he could say otherwise, but he couldn't handle the stress of hiding how he really felt about things. "As long as you or Draco are with me," he answered softly, embarrassed about his irrational insecurities. "Just to be safe."

"Of course. That goes without saying." Severus gently laid his hand on top of Shadow's. "You will feel better once we get you physically healthy. Don't be too discouraged with yourself. You are coping amazingly well. I am inordinately proud of you."

Shadow flushed, warmth flooding his system. "Thanks. I am trying."

"I know you are." Severus smiled. He reached out to casually stroke a hand over his son's hair.

Shadow smiled back, his two-colored eyes bright but also tired. Severus mourned the fact that those eyes looked like they belonged in a face wrinkled from old age. Shadow had just turned eighteen years old, practically still a child, and three of those years he'd spent unconscious. On the other hand, Severus felt blessed that they were open and aware at all. A lesser man would have been broken and driven to insanity by Shadow's experiences, yet his son was still with him, damaged but miraculously whole.

"Get some sleep," he ordered and was pleased when Shadow nodded easily. "Call for Omi if you need me. He will fetch me immediately."

"Night," Shadow answered as he lay down and pulled the covers up to his chin. He didn't dare close his eyes, however. He was afraid he truly would fall asleep. Exhaustion was never very far from him nowadays.

He waited until the count of one hundred to be sure Severus wouldn't come back to check on him, or Remus, or Sirius, or anyone else. He did not want to be discovered. It wouldn't be hard for any of the adults to overcome him and prevent him from going after Draco. Finally, he closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath. He couldn't fully Occlude, not having established a new mental organization since his last merge. A seascape no longer felt right. There was another magic that could potentially be different now that he had merged with his last alter, but he was going to try it anyway. The Animagus transformation.

His Animagus form had changed every time he merged with an alter, but theoretically when you cast the Animagus spell successfully it locked that form as your Animagus permanently, even if you were to undergo a serious spiritual or psychological change. However, that didn't stop him from having two Animagus forms, which was supposed to be impossible: the lynx, which was the form he should have officially locked as his permanent Animagus form, and then Demon's werewolf and later the dove/werewolf combination Seraphim created.

Shadow had no idea what he would transform into now and knew if he didn't have a good grasp on the anatomy of his form he could really hurt himself, not to mention prevent himself from ever having a second form again. You only had one chance at the Animagus transformation. If you didn't get it right the first time, the incomplete magic would block the transformation from ever taking place. He was hoping his sheer magical strength would protect him. He hadn't known the anatomy of a werewolf or the anatomy of Seraphim when he transformed into those forms, either.

His body practically vibrated with energy. He felt a trembling wave of sheer physical illness wash over him, and thought he'd chosen wrong, that he'd done something incredibly stupid. His instincts had again led him astray. But then he was changing, his body shifting into something else. Wings grew from his back, forcing him into a sitting position. His hair lengthened and spilled down his back, becoming more. The sheer power of it wrapped around him like a cape, making him feel dangerous. His muscles became stronger, more flexible under his skin. His five senses became more sensitive and his mind less complex.

He wasn't quite thinking like an animal; it was more reminiscent to how he felt as Seraphim. However, he didn't feel poised between burning cold rage and oily terror. The absolute mental focus on survival was missing as well. He was all of himself, but it felt like he'd been paired down to his most basic desires, the simplest needs. And the need for Draco to be well and near him had transferred over to his more animalistic mind seamlessly.

Rising from the bed, Seraphim looked down to find himself on two steady legs, still wearing pajama bottoms. He tested them, crouched and stood, and was pleased with the smooth strength they demonstrated, as well as his flexibility. He examined his chest next. His top had been shredded by the growth of his wings. The skin was smooth and tan. Lean muscles rippled as he stretched, protecting the organs they contained. He found the same evidence of health and strength in his arms. He was very pleased. A purr rumbled in his chest, and the sound made him realize that his nails were longer and harder than a human's. That pleased him as well. He knew how effective claws were as a weapon.

Prowling silently forward, he placed himself in front of the mirror on the back of the closet door. His body looked human, the skin hairless. His face was not like a werewolf's. His teeth were sharper, but they were set in a human mouth. His pupils were slit, the irises two-colored. One was dark brown, the other gold, just as they had been in his lynx form.

The ebony silk hair, almost falling to his ankles, waved around him gently. He could feel teh Black magic singing in his body, whispering of the delicious glory found in pure destruction. He'd be lost to it if it wasn't perfectly balanced out by the White magic, humming of the joy of restoring things broken to a state of wholeness. The representation of this awesome healing power, two five-foot long wings, lifted from his back and curled slightly forward. They still had mangled feathers, but he was pleased to see the blood had gone. His wounds were healing.

Satisfied with his physical strength, he let his eyes fall to half-mast as he stretched out his senses for his mate. The Black became agitated as he called on the bond it had created years ago. He immediately sensed the two who were tied to him. One was far away, healthy, and content. The other was closer.

He hissed, his fingers arching into claws, as sensation poured through him. Turning, his wings flaring to keep him balanced before tucking close to his back, he leapt for the window. The Black slashed forward, destroying the wards and glass between him and his mate. He gracefully somersaulted through the air and landed in a crouch before sprinting in the direction of the small town that lay to the east.

While he ran, he dug into the connection to his mate, absorbing every new understanding. His mate was at war with himself, and he was losing. Self-disgust battled with overwhelming craving. Morality clashed with hunger. Humanity struggled against ravening beast. Once Seraphim managed to shift through these violent emotional and physical storms, he was able to sense exactly what the price of Draco's control was.

Draco was in the middle of coupling right that minute. The mindless, consuming sex allowed him to satisfy his cravings in a less inhuman way. Seraphim lifted his head and howled his fury into the sky. He had no illusions. He knew there'd been many sexual partners, and Draco had craved them, lost himself in the pleasure of their body. It had fulfilled Draco's profound need, leaving him grateful but also desperately unhappy. That misery soothed Seraphim's temper slightly. This would end. Now. Tonight. His mate would no longer suffer, and no one would ever touch what was his again.

You're mine, Seraphim thought with utter certainty and put on a burst of speed.

xXxXxXx

Draco came awake instantly as the sun set. His whole body jerked as if electrocuted; the scent of sex and female assailed his nose. He was at the apartment of one of the call girls in town. His hunger had been so great he hadn't been able to make it home before the sun rose, and he'd collapsed unconscious, still inside the whore. Now he was sprawled on his back, the woman stroking his chest with a large, sleepy grin.

"Hey, there, handsome. I was afraid I wore you out completely," she said in a husky voice.

He pushed her aside and moved toward his clothes without saying anything. She had sex for money. The fact that he both paid handsomely and made her orgasm repeatedly was the reason behind they favored him. However, her hungry looks made him evaluate his own hunger. He'd taken her several times last night and had been with two others before he'd gotten to her. He should've been fine for another couple of days, but instead he could feel the bloodlust simmering. It wasn't yet a boil, but it would be by tomorrow night.

Closing his eyes and steeling himself, he turned back to the bed. It was best just to get this over with now, so he'd be free for a few nights to be with his love. Merlin, he hated himself. If it didn't mean leaving Shadow alone, he'd have killed himself long ago. He was the most disgusting creature on earth. What kind of humanity was he salvaging if he had to become a whore himself to keep it?

Her eyes lit up in anticipation as he turned to face her.

"You know better," he murmured with a dark, ironic smile. "I'm insatiable."

She laughed and flung the covers off her naked body, her legs already spread for him. He growled as the rush of hunger and lust flooded his senses. He grabbed her calves and yanked her toward him, leaving his pants on, as he hooked her legs over his shoulders. She was already wet, and his violent thrust forward into her depths was one of pure pleasure for her.

She arched with a cry, her hands scrambling for leverage. As he took her at a brutal pace, he closed his eyes tight. Before Shadow had come awake, sitting beside him and sex were the only times Draco felt at peace, the battle within him stilled. Now he had fresh memories of Shadow gazing at him, talking, smiling, and the sex tore him apart, knowing his love was a mere ten miles away, completely conscious as Draco betrayed him.

"Yes, unh, oh, god, YES!" the woman screamed, oblivious to his tears.

Draco couldn't do it. The hunger wasn't strong enough to overwhelm his disgust. He felt her come and pulled out, still hard. She lay nearly senseless. He couldn't look at her as he scrambled into his clothes. He was just putting money on her dresser when the mark on his neck slowly warmed, growing hotter rapidly, stopping just this side of pain.

He stood, blind, his whole body focused on that mark, terrified he knew what it meant. Seraphim was back, and he knew. Cold dread paralyzed him. He felt sick, horror making him want to shriek and rail against the world. Shadow was never supposed to know! He was never supposed to find out what Draco had become! He couldn't stand it if he did; Draco would rather die!

In the direction of home, came a long, rage-filled howl.

Draco shivered. He wasn't sure if it was his suicidal thoughts or what he'd been doing that had caused that terrifying sound, but oddly enough he now felt calmer. The promise of punishment was almost a relief. It was finally over. One way or another, he would no longer have to live like this.

"What was that?" the woman panted from behind him. She was scrambling into some clothes. "Wolves?"

He looked over his shoulder, his eyes flashing with hypnotic power. "Get dressed and leave this town. Go as far as you can and don't stop until dawn. Go!"

Dazed, she hurriedly obeyed.

Draco moved quickly out of the apartment and into the street. He wouldn't let his love's rage be taken out on the people he'd slept with. It wasn't their fault. He wouldn't let them die because of him. Plus, he knew Shadow would be distressed when he returned to his right mind if he killed anyone in a fit of rage. With this in mind, Draco began to run in the direction of the house and his irate lover, hoping to meet him before he reached town.

He almost didn't make it. Draco was a very short three hundred yards past the last house when Seraphim loped into view. They both came to a skidding stop, their chests heaving with exertion. For a brief moment, Draco's fears and anxiety melted away as he took in the magnificent form of his lover.

Seraphim stepped forward and drew himself up to his full height. His shadow-hair flared out behind him in a sensuous wave and his wings arched high and spread wide in a glorious display. He was shorter than he had been, only an inch or so taller than Shadow was naturally instead of the six feet two inches he'd been previously. In fact, Draco thought Seraphim now matched his height perfectly and wondered if that was a coincidence.

There was no evidence of a werewolf in his facial features, which relieved Draco greatly. He knew what it was like to be controlled by instincts that were not naturally your own and didn't want that for Seraphim. Despite the lack of werewolf, his body was superbly muscled and fit, the same as before, but now there were dark tattoos adorning the tan skin.

A slender snake tail curled around the outside of Seraphim's eye, the rope-like body tracing over his high cheekbone before crossing back over his cheek. The delicate viper head rested just below the corner of his mouth. Draco dimly realized this represented Silas. On Seraphim's right bicep Gabriel's mountain lion was captured in mid-roar. Rose's doe stood grazing over his sternum, the lines of her legs and head graceful and beautiful, the dark eyes full of gentle emotion. Last, a house cat was depicted on its back, stretching sensually under Seraphim's belly button, between his two hipbones. Draco guessed this represented Kitten.

The only two alters left were Demon and Boy, but he thought the Black and White magic were all the representation those two mindsets needed. They hadn't been fully developed psyches anyway. In all, Draco felt overwhelmed with Seraphim's beauty. He was absolutely gorgeous, grace and power illustrated with every move.

"Seraphim," he rasped, throat tight with consuming emotion. "I'm sorry."

Draco felt vile in comparison to his beautiful mate. Just being in Seraphim's presence was an insult Draco couldn't bear to make to his love. Shadow deserved so much better after all he'd suffered. He certainly didn't need more filth in his life. Heart racing, mind flying at incredible speeds, Draco threw himself to his knees before his love and bowed his head to reveal the vulnerable back to his neck. Chocked sobs exploded from his chest. He pressed his hands flat to the ground and prayed for punishment.

I deserve it, please hurt me, save me, break me into a thousand pieces, let this end, I'm so tired, Draco's thoughts tumbled rapidly through his chaotic mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and knew he'd die if Seraphim did nothing, if he just walked away.

Seraphim stared down at his lover who was submitting to him completely. It was a delicious sight and sent righteous power flooding through his veins. He wanted to take his mate right there, claim him and make it clear whom he belonged to, but first Seraphim had to get rid of the disgusting filth covering his mate's body. The scent of at least four others stained Draco's perfect skin, almost overpowering Draco's own luscious scent. Worse, he could sense sickness pervading his mate's body down to the genetic level. With a snarl, he sent the Black crashing forward.

Draco screamed as boiling tar drenched him from head to foot, but he didn't move. He reveled in the agony, wanted it to burn brighter and brighter until nothing else existed anymore. As he screamed, he felt his thoughts disintegrating until he was almost granted his wish. Just as he teetered at the edge of madness, a cool breeze whispered over the inferno of his body. The soothing sensation grew slowly, and slowly he came down from the height of agony, sobbing harshly, feeling almost cleansed.

Cooing into his mate's ear, Seraphim held him as he wept, letting his glowing wings pass over his body again and again until the spasms stopped, the pain pushed out with the White. He licked and nuzzled the pale neck exposed to him, shivering at the taste he knew so well. He licked around a shapely ear and grinned when he felt his mate begin to respond. His mate groaned and cracked open alluring silver eyes.

"Mine," Seraphim spoke clearly, eyes locked with his mate's.

Draco had no idea what Seraphim said. It had been spoken in Parseltongue, but he had an idea. "Yours," he groaned, heart beating so fast he was certain it would explode. "Always yours." Then he passed out.

Seraphim supported his mate easily. Triumph beat through his body and he threw his head back with a victorious howl. He lifted Draco into his arms, cradling his limp body carefully to his chest. His wings extended out behind him for balance, and with another howl, he set off back to their nest. It was time to go home.

Chapter end.

A/N: Whew… This chapter was surprisingly hard to write. Let me know what you think.