Warnings: M/M slash

Notes: I regard this as something of an epilogue ( I'll explain why P.S). I've called this chapter "chapter 3" rather than "epilogue" though on the off change I'll continue.

Also some formatting/whatever errors from previous chapters have been addressed. No paragraphing issues have been resolves though, I will ALWAYS suck at that. Sorry.

Chapter 3

"How did you do it Boyd?"

"How did I do what?"

Hart met his gaze. "How did you get him to leave you alone?"

Boyd paused before leaning forward conspiratorially. "I just turned him around, told him "no", gave him a swift but firm slap on the rear and sent him straight back out the door."

Hart's lip stretched into a humourless smirk. "No you didn't. He's not a child Boyd, much as he might be acting like one. We both know that wouldn't work on him."

Boyd looked away, smiling to himself as he settled back in his chair.

Slausan had returned a week ago, at full strength and without Martha and Ives had immediately latched onto him, as if in the hope that he could mend the rift that was forming in the camp. Slauson wasn't interested however, believing that his position as General still held some effect, expecting the others to rally around him. Hart and Boyd had, for the most part, complied without argument simply because they had no reason to disobey his orders and were happy to let him believe himself to be in charge for the time being. This had left Ives irritated and bewildered, keeping mainly to himself and ignoring Slauson's orders, which the General was too self-absorbed to register either way, and Hart found Ives in his bed more often than not. Unexpectedly, Hart found Ives initiating sex with him, and, whereas Hart had previously only ever been required to perform for Ives orally, now he required something more, but always asked tentatively, clinging to the larger man almost desperately, now and again pausing to ask if Hart was enjoying it.

In his own mind, Hart couldn't bring himself to admit that there was any real enjoyment there, much as he'd told Ives there was, but he felt it was his duty to keep the other man appeased. He found more and more that the more desperate and broken Ives became the less desirable he seemed on the surface, as if it were the terrifying nature of the Wendigo that attracted him, rather than Ives himself. He found himself after the fact, with Ives trembling and spent in his lap, wishing that Boyd would just take Ives as a lover, so that he could remove himself from the equation entirely.

"You could have him now, you know."

Boyd opened his eyes. He'd almost forgotten Hart was still there.

"He's broken down completely," Hart confessed, "He's reached a point where he doesn't even need blood to become sexually aroused, as if he's just desperate not to be ignored. You could take him as your lover, any way you wanted and still owe him absolutely nothing. I daresay you could kick him out repeatedly and he'd still come back to you with his tail between his legs each night."

"Like he does with you?" Boyd answered coldly.

Hart's eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't kick him out. I can't begin to imagine what he'd do if even I rejected him."

"Maybe you should try it," Boyd answered flatly.

"I don't want to take responsibility for it if he works himself into a rage and murders Slauson," Hart snarled. Boyd eyed Hart warily. It was unnerving when Hart was angry because it was so unusual and yet his quiet rage always served to remind Boyd how large the other man was and that his pent up rage, if released, would be formidable. There was a reason Ives had chosen him after all.

"You're so fond of Slauson?"

Hart pressed his lips together in a tight line, mulling the question over in his mind. "We'd be right back where we started," he answered carefully.

Boyd considered this silently. There was a good reason Ives had kept to the periphery over the past week; wishing on the whole to be ignored by both Boyd and Slauson; Ives hadn't been consuming as much as the others and was probably considerably weaker for it. If by some miracle he did manage to kill Slauson (and Boyd didn't doubt that he could under the right circumstances – Slauson may be the physically stronger of the two but Ives' blood lust had proven to be a most formidable weapon, and Slauson possessed none of Ives' cunning) then Ives could consume him, garner his strength and regain control of both he and Hart.

Perhaps the safest option would be to take advantage of Ives whilst he was in his weakened state, chaining Ives as Ives had chained him, limiting his rations in order to keep his strength in check. Even Boyd had to admit the idea seemed unnecessarily cruel, and the possibility of making Ives even more unhinged was one Boyd didn't particularly wish to face.

Taking Ives instead as a mate might indeed prove useful since it would effectively appease both Hart and Ives, getting Hart firmly behind him as an ally if it ever came to overthrowing Slauson's haphazard attempt at leadership.

Boyd realised Hart had been watching him silently as he turned the thought over and over in his mind. Finally he met Hart's gaze again.

"If he comes to your bed tonight, turn him away," Boyd said flatly and Hart settled back into his chair as a wave of relief rushed over him.

Ives stiffened as the door to his bedroom creaked open and then closed again, soft footsteps approaching across the floor and towards the bed. Had Hart in the end decided to come to him?

He shuddered at the feel of cool air on his back as the fur he used as a cover was lifted and he felt the weight of another on the mattress behind him, accompanied by the soft sound of clothing being stripped off.

"Hart?" He murmured, moving to turn his head but a hand shot out to cup his chin, pushing his head back down against the pillow and lifting his jaw to expose his neck.

"No," came the soft reply and he stiffened as a bristled cheek pressed against his nape, soft lips sucking gently at his skin before he felt the unmistakable grip of teeth. He let out a strangled gasp, jerking in the other man's grip and Boyd spread himself against the length of the other man's body, rolling him over so that Ives was on his stomach beneath him. Ives' breath hitched in anticipation as he felt Boyd's other hand snaking its way down between his legs, urging him to lift his rear to meet the press of Boyd's fingers.

"You're mine now." Boyd whispered hot blood gathering on his lips where it seeped from a gash in the other man's throat.

AN: I wanted to end on a high note that implied Boyd was knocking Ives off his perch as "Queen Bitch" (which I think was the implication at the end of ch 2) but I didn't actually want a BAD ending for Ives per se... So this is really an add on/epilogue in my mind. You might think it ruins the characters a little though.

I'm not entirely comfortable with turning Ives into a submissive character, but at the same time I like to think that in that situation he WOULD become a little erratic and desperate because he's losing control of a situation he thought he'd planned out meticulously. That said... in reality he'd probably just stick a pick axe through Slauson's skull at this point rather than getting moody that Slauson had taken over. So in that respect this is all a bit unlikely...

Who knows. He might end up doing that anyway. Crazy bastard who already kidnapped my fic idea by insisting on prancing around in furs...