Wow! Five updates on five stories in two days! I'm on a roll. I figure an apology won't do much to make up for how long it took me to update! I'll try it anyway! I'M SORRY GUYS! I admit that I've got too much going on, both in writing so many stories at once and just in life in general. I hope you guys can forgive me! It's been so long between updates I thought I'd post a little part from the last chapter to refresh your memories.
Thank you to everyone that has added this story to their favourites, followed this story or reviewed! It means a lot to me :D
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me...
Enjoy! And btw I've sort of lost the thread of how I want them to interact. If they seem even more OOC than they did before I apologize and hope you like the new direction I'm taking!
Previously...
"You killed her," she said with accusing eyes.
"To save you."
She shook her head in denial. "Maybe, but the way you did it," she shuddered as her eyes closed in painful memory, "The look in your eyes. You killed the other one because he attacked me. But her, you enjoyed killing her. You didn't have to kill her. You wanted to.
Logan sighed at the truth in her words. "I warned you. I'm not some knight in shining armor Marie. I'm not the guy you want to save you, not even close." He paused, gathering his thoughts and thinking of what was best for her. Wolverine would hate him, already he pushed at him, trying to break his control. He needed to think of her because Mystique had been right. She was too young. She had a life ahead of her that didn't need to include him. "I know of some people who can help you. Mutants like us."
Marie shook her head adamantly in denial. "Like the mutants that grabbed me? No!"
"No, not like them, not like me. Good people that help kids like you. Runaways, mutants that can't hide their mutation or control it. They can help you."
She glared at him but remained silent. He took that as consent. "We should sleep. We can find the road tomorrow and you'll be on your way soon enough."
She nodded and began to cough violently as she lay down. He smelled the sickness in her and wanted to tear the cave apart. If he didn't get her into a warm bed and some medicine soon she might get pneumonia or succumb to hypothermia. He told himself he would watch over her but his body was still too cold and too weak and he soon fell asleep.
Marie was afraid of him. He had saved her life by taking someone else's. She might be able to live with that but the violence and almost-glee that had burned gold in his eyes terrified her. She had tried so hard to pull him away, to make him stop but he hadn't acknowledged her in the least. She didn't know what to think of these other supposedly good mutants he had told her about. Could she trust a murderer?
No, she decided. She needed to get out of there before he woke up. She would find the road, hopefully before the two mutants working with Mystique found her. She felt a flash of guilt and more than a little reluctance at the loss of his presence. It was bewildering, the conflicting feelings of security and fear. He made her feel safe even as common sense told her to be terrified. But her mind was made up. She was leaving him despite the acute feeling of loss in her chest.
First she needed to heal. There was something she hadn't told Logan about the way her curse worked. She'd once touched a mutant who could control fire. Even as he fell to unconsciousness and his thoughts filled her mind she screamed as fire erupted from her hands. She was crying before she realized that the fire was from her and it wasn't hurting her. It only lasted a short period of time but she'd felt just a little better knowing that despite her curse she could protect herself just a little from other mutants; except when she was too naïve to recognize the ones that wanted to harm her.
Logan healed. So she sat there with her fingers poised above his cheek for what seemed like forever, watching him sleep. He was a beautiful man, rough and hairy and maybe a little shorter than her. But he was muscular and his eyes filled her with an ache to touch, to feel, even if she couldn't. She studied his jawline, the line of his brow, his whiskered cheeks, and the sensual curve of his lips. He looked angry, even in sleep. His eyebrows were lowered and he began to mumble to himself about water and tanks. Marie sighed and held her hands barely an inch above his face, tracing his features without touching him. She steeled herself against the sudden feeling of tenderness at his vulnerable expression and told herself to just do it already.
His mumbling became growls and as she said his name he roared and sat up with lightning quick speed. Her sharp squeak of surprise turned into something between a gasp and grunt as the blades in his hand slipped into her body. It was surprising how much pain she didn't feel. Maybe it was the shock, or maybe it was the thoughts that were transferring between his mind and hers at the moment she touched his face. Surprise, fear, pain, anguish. The last one was as much of a surprise as the regret she felt as she slowly but surely drained his life. How much would save her from death? How much could his body take, despite his healing factor? When she had touched David it was less than seconds and he was still in a coma last she had heard. With the man who could control fire he had recovered faster. She knew because his thoughts had stayed with her for a shorter amount of time. But how long should she touch Logan? How long before his healing factor was unable to heal his body from her deadly skin?
It shamed her, but she couldn't help but feel a thrill at the fact that she was touching him. How sick was she to take any form of pleasure out of the act of killing someone? Her skin practically hummed with awareness at the feel of his cheek against her palm. This was right. At that thought she shoved herself away from him in horror. His face was twisted in pain and he collapsed back against the floor of the cave with a grunt. She wanted to make sure he was alright. But she couldn't think clearly past his dominating presence in her mind. She was losing herself in his instincts to take and claim. His thoughts of her were only clouding her mind. She did the thing that her mind was screaming at her to do above all the other chaos. She ran.
He was sore, like he'd been kicked several times over his entire body by men wearing steel-toed boots. He felt weak and shaky as he sat up. Sore he could handle. It wasn't anything he hadn't felt before. It was the weakness that bothered him. He could fight through pain but if his body somehow gave up on him there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.
She was gone. One deep inhale and he could tell whatever scent she had left behind was hours old. He wanted to panic and roar and maybe tear into the walls of the cave and collapse the roof down on top of him. But he wouldn't. He had to find her, to make sure she was safe. Maybe she hadn't believed him when he'd told her about Xavier. He had to make her believe him. Her skin was clearly capable of keeping her safe from most people, but she was naïve. Mystique had taken her quite easily. She was afraid of him. Wrong, Wolverine whimpered in his head. Yes the fear he had breathed in had been wrong. She shouldn't be afraid of him; she shouldn't feel the need to run away from him. She was his mate. Wrong. Mate. Mine.
Before he lost himself in the Wolverine's powerful keening in his head, in the tearing ache in his chest, he had to move. Logan got to his feet on shaking legs. His knees gave once and he fell to his knees with a grunt as his skin tore open. Between the battle of solid rock and even harder adamantium, his skin had to choice but to give. She must have really weakened him. His torn knees should have healed in seconds. Yet they still bled, his blood slow to clot, skin slow to begin the process of knitting itself back together. Damn her skin had a kick to it. And the feeling he had was close to pride, or admiration, with a mix of anger from the Wolverine. She could protect herself; she just shoulda known she didn't have to protect herself from him. He couldn't wrap his head around the genuine anger he felt at the girl for fearing him and the slight awe he felt at her ability. He could tear you open, but he couldn't knock you out with a touch.
Whatever resentment the Wolverine felt at her betrayal had to be put aside. Her scent was already a few hours old and the farther she went, the more likely that she would run into Sabretooth or Toad. They wouldn't take Mystique's death lightly. The thought of what they would do to her made him push himself to his feet and move. He would find her and he would convince her that Xavier was her best bet. Maybe one day she would accept what he was. Until then he would leave her at Xavier's school. It was the safest place he could think of next to staying with him.
Her trail was surprisingly difficult to follow. Instinct seemed to be leading her. She backtracked more than once, re-crossing her own path again and again. Her scent led in so many directions. She was trying to throw them off her scent. He felt a measure of pride mixed with confusion. She shouldn't know how to hide her trail. She shouldn't know how to misdirect him. Her scent was off. Her normal mouth-watering scent mixed with his feral side.
He followed her for a few hours and despite her best efforts he was gaining on her. He could feel the hum in his blood, the adrenaline forcing him towards her despite his aching limbs and weakness. He was so close. Her scent surrounded him as he neared the road. He could hear the telltale rumble of wheels on concrete. He could hear her breaths, short and quick as she rushed closer and closer to the road. Someone was sure to pick her up. And then she would be gone.
No! Wolverine growled in his mind. And Logan agreed wholeheartedly. He picked up the pace, eager to find her, the Wolverine in his mind lost to thoughts of claiming Marie, showing her she was his as he spread her legs and thrust inside of her. A litany of MineMarieMine coursing through his head. He was hard, hard from the thrill of hunting her, catching her. Hard from her scent, mingled with his own.
He heard her gasp as she caught his scent. He grinned as he rounded a set of trees and there she was. Standing in the middle of a clearing, much like the one Mystique had her in before. Her scent was intoxicating. A mix of fear and arousal and excitement. Logan knew he was losing control, the leash he held on Wolverine so close to snapping. She was facing him, chin up, feet braced apart. Her whole body screamed challenge. Where had his sweet little Marie gone? When had this hungry feral replaced her? Her eyes shone gold, her hair tangled around her face in a wild halo. She would be his, now! And by the lustful smirk on her face, she knew it as well.
He snarled and stalked towards her, Logan shoved to the background. Wolverine had no regard for age. She was old enough to smell of heat and arousal, so she was old enough to fuck. She purred a sensual noise of submission. He almost lunged at her then but some remnant of sanity reminded him that her skin was deadly, that her skin hurt. And he wanted to punish her for daring to deny him all of her. So he circled her instead, watching her, calculating. His head began to hurt from Logan's attempts to shove him back, to cage him.
Doubts plagued him and he tried to shake them away. Young, sweet, wrong, different, NOT MARIE.
And that last thought made him halt. Not Marie? He scented the air. She was Marie…and yet she smelled like him. Why did she smell like him? It was that split second of indecision that won Logan control. And he was shoved back behind the wall that Logan hid him behind.
Logan was aroused to the point of pain at her inviting smell. She wanted him. And if he was a weaker man he'd give her what she wanted. But he still clung to the last shred of honor he had. She wasn't herself and it had something to do with her scent mingled with his and the touch that had incapacitated him. He tried to puzzle it out but his brain was fogged with her smell and his own fantasies. He shook himself roughly and looked at her again, studying her for something to base his suspicions on. She was Marie, but she wasn't acting like Marie would. Even he knew that in their short time together.
Her eyes were gold and her scent was her own infused with his feral musk. She was eying him with a predatory expression that set his teeth on edge. He backed away from her and watched her reactions warily. One, four, six, ten feet later her own eyes, blown from arousal started to contract. He knew the moment she came back to herself. He could see it as she stared around with confusion. Her cheeks flushed as she seemed to realize what had almost happened.
"Logan? What's wrong with me?" She wrapped her arms around her middle and started to shake as the effects of the adrenaline wore off. "I…" she whimpered and he almost snapped as her legs rubbed together reflexively and the smell of her arousal spiked.
"When did you become feral?" He growled at her. She flinched back from him and her eyes widened in horror.
"Feral? What do yah mean, feral? Is that what you ahre?"
"You touched me. It hurt and now you smell like me. Why?"
She backed away from him as he advanced. He needed to know. "Marie, why do you smell like me?"
Her eyes welled with tears and he felt a second of shame. "Ah-ah touched you. When Ah touch mutants I get their…abilities for a little while. Ah knew you healed. So Ah touched you to make mahself stronger. I didn't know about this! Ah swear!"
Logan swore. His feral side, geared to claiming her would not be a pleasant experience to a girl with no experience. Hell, it was torture for him and he was used to his instinctive reactions and heightened awareness of the opposite sex.
"Fuck kid. How long does this last?" He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Her smell was driving him crazy.
"A couple hours usually." She'd ducked her head in shame and he wanted to lift her face and kiss her, make all her insecurities fade away. But even that action reminded him of how young she truly was. Sex wasn't shameful to him.
"Look Marie, I know I scared you. You'd be pretty fucked up if seeing me kill some bitch didn't mess you up a little. But I promise you I won't hurt you. And I promise you Chuck's a good guy. He'll help you and keep you safe. Understand?"
She looked up at him briefly and nodded. She understood.
"I'm gonna call him and get him to pick us up. Is that okay?"
She nodded again with a small hopeful smile. His heart clenched at the sight.
"K Darlin', I gotta take a piss. Wait here and don't leave. I'll be right back." He turned and walked back into the surrounding trees with a glance back. Her eyes were so big and lost. He wanted to scoop her up and cradle her close. A feeling foreign to him, the need to comfort. Mineminemine. He smiled to reassure her and received an answering smile in return. Maybe everything could work out. He whistled softly to himself as he chose a tree to piss behind.
The forest remained quiet except for the hum of wildlife and Marie's soft breathing. He listened intently for the sound of anything that would indicate they were in danger. Even the road had grown quiet. He finished quickly and returned to Marie. Her face was anxious until she spotted him. She smiled and he returned it, until he heard the distant hum of an engine.
"Marie get behind me!"
She obeyed without hesitation and pressed her body close to his back, his feral side still influencing her. She remained tense even as his body relaxed at the sight of the familiar black jet.
"It's okay Marie. Looks like Chuck found us." He pulled away from her and headed toward the jet as it landed on the snow. She shut her eyes against the snow that blew into her face. Her heart nearly stopped as she realized that Logan was already so far away. Closer to the opening doors of the jet than he was to her. She squared her shoulders and followed determinedly behind him.
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