Chapter 13 - The Intermediary

Logan

Shuddering with barely suppressed rage, I unfurled the fistful of dark hair. He'd gotten out. The Wolverine generally waited, although not patiently, to be allowed to roam free, and always leashed. And even he didn't use women that roughly unless they explicitly asked for it. Lust fueled by adrenaline bordered on the macabre combined with formidable strength and a sharp lack of control. Especially when the woman involved was as frail as this one.

But fuck, it felt good!

The Wolverine had felt transcendent-even if he didn't know what that word meant-teetering on the cusp of that black oblivion he constantly yearned for-which could only be obtained through means of food/fight/fuck. Lust bordering erotic violence-mind hemmed in red haze that made him want to bite and thrust and claw-Roar his pleasure into the night-Command-Possess-Be submitted to-but heart hammering-feeling every convulsion of her tight little body around his cock.

The heady cloud of desire and pheromones gave the act an almost brutal edge.

I struggled to breathe evenly and push out the heavy and unwelcome stream of consciousness that had burst through the barricades I'd tried so long to fortify. Pushing against that world-dimming haze that rimmed my vision. Squeezing my eyes shut against it, struggling to maintain control. Nails cutting into my palms in effort to stop the shaking. Every fiber of my body burning, telling me to run.

Not just mad, but furious. For his daring escape. For the momentary slip in control. For hurting my Marie. Marie!

She was still hemmed in under me, mercifully on her back now, but as far away as the confined space allowed, wary. I raised my hands to show her I meant no harm, and she flinched away, fear and panic spiking in her scent.

The Wolverine, being restrained now, back in his cage but still, slips of irrational thought came through the bars, acute, destructive animalistic instinct entwined with my own thoughts that were only slightly more coherent. His blood was up. We both needed to expend that energy to come back down to baseline. I felt the internal shift as he was silenced.

I needed to tell her she was safe. That he'd gone. And I wouldn't ever let him out around her again, fuck even if it killed me! All I could manage was an opening and closing of my mouth.

The worst part of it all, was her trying to make sense of it all. I owed her an explanation, and I knew for a fact I'd do a piss poor job of trying to explain.

Her gaze shifted to my still semi-rigid form, the curls around the base dark and matted.

Ignoring all the non-verbal cues that were telling me to get the fuck away, I reached for her face, touching her ever so softly, more of an apology than a caress. That seemed to take all the fight from her.

"Logan…?" She whimpered.

Taking that as all the cue I'd get, I buried my face in against her belly and just held her. Hoping, praying she'd understand.

After a while, I became aware of small hands pushing against my shoulders, but it was a few more moments before the sounds became words.

"I thought you'd gone to sleep…"

I blinked. Shook my head.

"You look tired."

No fuckin' shit. "Mmph."

"I thought… never mind."

Nauseatingly, I knew exactly what she thought… that I was done with playing Mr. Nice Captor and just wanted her for what she could give me. Maybe she was more on the right track than I was.

"I told you I was an animal"

"What do you mean?"

"…He lives inside me. He's a part of me. One that's hard to control."

"I'm not following…"

I yanked on the chain around my neck and handed her the dog tags that marked me as a monster.

"This is who they think I am. The soldier, the killing machine."

"No, actually… it make perfect sense… I want to talk to him!"

"What?!"

"I mean it! Let me speak to him!"

"Marie," I tried to reason with her, "you know what he just tried to do to you? He's capable of so much worse."

Half-remembered memories flashed over my vision; the first time with a woman after the memory loss, or was that just the first time he could remember? Reduced to a snarling, quaking mess of brutal muscle and adamantium-covered bones, with no recollection of etiquette or regard for consequence. The woman had barely survived, and I'd never felt so much like a monster since. But there had been other times, when the women underneath me, or sleeping beside me had ended up skewered on my claws like kabab meat. A girl, just barely out of her teens, who been paid just to hold me when the loneliness became too much, who'd left the motel with one less hand than what she'd arrived with. A woman in Kanas who couldn't have children, because of me. Because of what he'd done. And countless others scarred.

Her soft voice brought me back.

"If I'm in danger then I'm sure you can intervene. Besides, I'm carrying his young," She had a point I wasn't even aware of until now. Two consciences in one body. But the same body nonetheless.

"Please?"

I felt the shift come too easily. A culmination of overwhelmed senses and that familiar black rage, roiling, absorbing, until we descended to that place where everything became instinctual, and the balance of finer emotions slipped into unimportance.

"Wolverine?"

He grunted.

"Um… Hi. Err, I just wanted to say, you don't have to be jealous. I'm yours too."

His ears prickled as he sniffed at the air trying to scent her sincerity-He was used to bitches lying and he'd damn well straighten out any waif that thought they could get the best of him-nothing but truth.

"Erm… c..can you talk?"

"Of course," he replied.

"Oh… good."

The human had mated with her-she smelt so sweet and pure-untainted by corruption and other misdeeds of her kind-she went still when I placed a paw over our cub growing in the too-small space between her hips.

"You need more food," he rumbled.

"Logan takes care of me just fine. Don't worry."

He grunted again, disbelieving.

"Sometimes, it's hard for me to eat. I'm scared in here. I don't know what's going to happen to me."

"You'll have a better chance of survival if you are strong."

She nodded, submissively.

"I'll let Logan know what to bring me, okay? But I want to let you know, you can come and see me anytime. I'm both of yours."

Mine. No, Ours.

Another shift, slight. Profound. We'd never both been present at the same time. It was usually one or the other in the driver's seat. I stepped closer to comfort her, my lips against hers in the way humans did to show affection. My arms tightened around her when she tried to move back, fighting the urge to squeeze, growl her into submission. That the urge was even there disturbed me to the point of nausea.

She didn't want me. Not really. This was a situation she'd been forced into. She was only trying to make the best out of it. If she could find some way to ease the loneliness of isolation, she would. And I wouldn't hold it against her. I'd probably do the same in her shoes.

Although for me, it was entirely diffrent. My life before had been led in captivity. Forced to live below the standard of humanity. Cut off from forging any meaningful connection. These secrets I had to keep kept me apart from everything, everyone else. I couldn't share before. Did this equal love? I only knew that I loved her, with every bit of me there was.

Loving her meant, in no uncertain terms, no growling, grabbing, biting or force used. Nothing that would scare her. No threats or bribery. And no pinning her down to have my way with her.

As if she was following my train of thought, she spoke. Told me her secrets. Told me all the things that sick bastard did to her; how he'd controlled and manipulated her into doing the things he wanted and then cast her aside when he was finished.

That time I really did throw up.