Author's Note: OK, so the battle lines are drawn between Declan and Morwenna. Yes, I'm sorry, I am going to make him suffer for quite some time before the issue is resolved, one way or another LOL Same as before with the ## to determine paragraph breaks

Declan sat in his office at the London Sanctuary House and sighed, his hand laid on the phone receiver as he paused to organise his thought before calling Helen to give them an update. He took several deep breaths, trying to figure out what to say to Helen about their newest guest, and trying to suppress the memories of everything he would have to hide from her. The memories rose to the forefront once more and he gritted his teeth, fighting the urges the momeories brought with them. He could still feel every inch of her pliant body, could still see her reaction to his touch as he cleaned off months of dirt and grime. His fingers itched to run over her again, to tease her nipples before dipping lower and exploring her inviting depths. The memory of her scent wove through him, teasing and tempting him and he groaned, trying to find a comfortable position in his chair. His erection hardened further, straining against the dry cargo pants he had thrown on after the clean up had finished, his body demanding he satisfy its need to sate itself with the new abnormal. Groaning softly, he picked up the phone and hit the speed dial to the Old City Sanctuary.

##

"So, how is our new guest?" Helen asked, her curiosity piqued by the stress evident in Declan's voice. She wondered just what had happened between him and the new abnormal since she had spoken to him last.

"She's resting," he replied, forcing the fingers of his left hand, currently clenched into a fist, to relax. "When I found her, there was a group of panther shifters with her. They'd bitten her, thinking she was human, and their poison was killing her."

"Really? That is interesting. We may have to deal with them at some point," Helen told him, pausing to let him continue his report.

"Indeed we may," he agreed. "I managed to get her stabilised with the anti-toxin Henry gave me and hauled ass back here. Sasha says her wounds should heal completely but she'll bear the scars of them. As Wena so succinctly put it, they're not the first she's had."

"Wena? Is that her name?" Helen noted the name on the pad laid on the desk in front of her.

"Her full name is Morwenna, but she insists I call her Wena and frankly, it's easier than arguing with her," he supplied, thinking of the way her eyes had flashed dangerously when he had tried to refuse her request.

"Strong willed then?" Helen laughed, imagining just how many clashes of will were ahead for Declan and Wena.

"Er, yeah, you can say that again," he agreed, a laugh escaping him before his mood sobered and he sighed. "I got her cleaned up and was horrified to find just how many scars she bears. She is covered in bruises, some weeks old and others pretty fresh."

"You cleaned her up?" the question was loaded; Helen wanted to delve deeper into the connection between her friend and their new guest.

"Yes Helen, I cleaned her up. When we were heading back to London, I had to pull over and change her dressings. She woke while I was doing them and asked me outright if I was going to take advantage of her, against her will! The very thought of that made me feel physically sick!" he admitted, his anger and disgust evident in his voice.

"Christ Declan, I'm sorry," Helen soothed, knowing his history well enough to know what caused such a violent reaction.

"I promised her I wasn't going to take advantage of her, and nor was I going to let anyone else do so either. Needless to say, my staff disagreed with my decision to be the one to do the clean up, thinking it either inappropriate or beneath me," he continued, his anger cooling somewhat, but continuing to simmer beneath the surface.

"I gather you tried to explain your reasons?" Helen asked, catching the undertones in his voice.

"I did and they ignored me, so I over-rode their objections and did it anyway," he admitted, his exhale ending in a sigh. Trying to organise his scattered thoughts, he didn't notice the silence at the other end of the line as Helen waited for his to continue. "God, Helen, we need to find out what the hell she is, and fast," he choked out, tears stringing his eyes as sobs gathered in his chest.

"What happened, Declan?" she pressed gently, his voice giving her a good indication of his current state of mind.

"I can't... I want..." he whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks as he fought for control.

"Declan, tell me what happened," she encouraged, certain now that he needed to get whatever was bothering off his chest before it consumed him.

"When I'm with her, it's like the rest of the world ceases to exist. Her scent, it's like a drug, it's intoxicating. All I want to do when I'm near her is take her, make love with her, satisfy the overwhelming lust and desire I feel for her. Hell, when I was cleaning her up and she came round, she bloody encouraged me. I came so close to just tearing off my clothes and taking her right there, hard, against the wall. She could barely even stand up by herself for God's sake!" he words poured out of him, his guilty admission torn from him as the tears flowed freely.

"Oh, Declan," her reply was soft, full of compassion and understanding.

"The worst thing is she seems to want me as much as I want her! God damn the rules, Helen," he chewed out, angry with himself for his admission.

"There's no rule against a romantic liaison, Declan," she reminded him.

"I know! But you know full well why I can't ever let this happen, Helen. You know what happened with Claire," he spat out, his self loathing rising inside him again as his mind flashed back to that fateful day.

"Is she fit to travel?" Helen demanded, her voice steely. She had to snap him out of the spiral of self loathing and self recrimination he was caught in, and the best way she knew to do that was to get him focused on something else. Her strategy worked.

"In a few days, yes," he confirmed, knowing the girl would need a few days recovery before getting on a plane.

"Good. Then, as soon as she is able, you will bring her here and we will take charge of her for you," Helen told him, her tone brooking no argument.

"OK," he acquiesced, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

##

Setting the phone receiver back into its cradle, Declan leant back in his chair and covered his face with his hands. He let the tears come, sobbing quietly in his lonely office. As the full reality of what he had just agreed to hit him, the tears flowed harder and the sobs became stronger, overwhelming him. The very thought of letting Wena out of his sight made his chest tighten, his breathing laboured as he struggled to think of being away from her now he had found her. He realised they had a deep emotional connection, but he knew that if he didn't let her go, he would end up hurting her, just as he had hurt Claire, and that was an unacceptable situation for him. Shaking his head, he left his office and padded silently down towards his bedroom, not seeing the heavier than normal shadow in the corner of the room. Stripping off, he slipped into bed and let his guilt and grief overwhelm him again, crying until he exhausted himself and fell into a deep, dream filled sleep, while Wena watched over him from the shadows.

As always, please review :)