Fic: Call of the Wild (1/1)
Fic: Call of the Wild (1/1)
By: Pen37
Beta: clarksmuse
Rating: NC-17
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Dean, Sam, Madison
Pairing: Chloe/Dean,
Disclaimer: Not Mine, Fun only.
Summary: Werewolf!Dean claims a mate
Crossovers_100: #89 She
Author's notes:
I. I'm posting this in exactly three places. My LJ, crossovers_100, and Winchullivan.
II. Xtremeroswellia tells me that she is holding the next 2 guys fic hostage until I post this. I was going to wait until Tomorrow to post it. But she's convinced me. Way to motivate, Angie.
When you came right down to it, hunter was just another word for predator.
Madison turned Sam.
Sam turned Dean.
And then Sam and Dean discovered that while they were changed, they weren’t different.
Three days a month, they holed up in Caleb’s old cabin deep in the National Forest. They went there to keep from hurting other people.
The rest of the time, they just kept doing what they did best. Saving people. Hunting things. The family business.
If anything, the beast inside gave them an edge. They stayed cautious. They stayed under the radar of other hunters.
They were fine.
Until Dean realized that he was lonely.
He’d always loved the ladies. And anyone warm and willing would do.
The beast didn’t agree. Wolves mated for life. His beast wouldn’t settle for anything less than a worthy, equal partner.
It was out of the question. They protected people. They didn’t - make more monsters.
But the longer he denied his beast, the harder it was to control.
He was erratic. Moody. Violent. Aggressive.
And during the full moon, he was worse. At night, Sam locked him in a cage.
The recipe for disaster was just missing one element - her.
Whoever she was.
Dean was certain of one thing. If the wolf found his mate - he didn’t think the man could stop it.
He just hoped he had the courage to put a silver bullet in his heart to end his life before he ended hers.
***
Rain. Pavement. Headlights. Squealing brakes. Ground was up. Sky was down. Pain.
Chloe blinked against the blinding pain. Her head felt like an axe murderer had taken a warm-up swing on it.
Gingerly, she touched her head. Her hand came away bloody.
With a faint groan, she realized that she had been deliberately run off the road.
Lex was obviously taking advantage of Superman’s absence in Metropolis to settle old scores. With a shake of her head, she unclipped her seatbelt and rolled out the broken window and onto the muddy ditch.
She circled the overturned Yaris and opened the trunk. Her jumbled arsenal fell out at her feet.
She picked though the mess with a sense of urgency. Lex didn’t leave things to chance. Whoever just ran her off the road would be back, and soon.
Sturdy boots, coat, flashlight, taser, backpack with MREs, water bottle. She grabbed her provisions and took off.
***
Her!
The beast rose up and took control. Sent him charging through the moonlit forest.
Run! Hurry! Protect her!
Inside, the man sifted through confusing input to figure out what was driving the beast.
Her scent latched onto him like a barbed hook. Buried itself deep under his skin and stuck painfully.
Ripped him open.
Left a hole in him that only she could fill.
Sweet and spicy. Perfume and ink, sweat and blood. Newsprint, adrenaline and determination. Something other than human. Saturated with otherworldliness. Yet earthy, like cornfields and apple pie.
Mine! The beast howled in his mind. Findprotecttakekeepmine!
The man agreed. There would be no saving her from the beast. Because he wanted her just as much as it did.
And heaven help anyone who stood in his way.
Her scent saturated an upturned car. The open trunk told him that she was an adventurer - if not a hunter.
Someone had been here first. Their scent held the same edge of otherworldliness that hers did. But overlain with a sterile lab scent.
He dares harm her. Kill him. Protect her. Mine.
His preternaturally sharp eyes picked up her track, even as he caught her scent again. He caught up to them in time to see her fall.
The scent of her blood sent the beast into a murderous rage. He launched himself at her attacker. For his trouble, he was thrown into a tree. The beast shook it off, while the man realized that his opponent was inhumanly strong.
When he looked up again, his enemy had put her head in a crushing grip. His preternatural hearing picked up her tiny, hurt whimpers. At the sound, his world took on a red haze. He howled in rage and threw himself into the fray again.
This time, each arm was wrenched apart uncomfortably. He had the vague, disquieting thought that his arms were going to be torn from his body. Just when the pressure was becoming unbearable - His enemy jerked once, and then fell over.
He looked up in confusion - and saw her - tazer in hand - standing over her attacker. Her eyes were flat and hard with determination. When she turned to regard him, it was with wariness, as opposed to gratitude. She obviously was experienced enough to know that a common enemy didn’t automatically make them packmates.
The beast inside let out a satisfied growl. She was worthy. She had protected herself and saved him. She was the mate it had been waiting for.
The man recalled her wary expression, the way she gripped the tazer, and fought for control. He kept his distance from her, hands hung loosely at his sides in a non-threatening pose. “Are you alright?”
“Where did you come from?” From behind her weapon, she quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Not far from here,” he said nonchalantly. “My family has a cabin.”
“Yeah? So did Leatherface.”
He grinned at her sarcasm. Even injured and scared, she had a quick mouth. As a man, he could see what his beast already knew. She was perfect.
His expression must not have been that reassuring, because he could see her edging back. As if a few feet of distance could make that much of a difference. Her hands were shaking, and she was swaying. He could tell that she was in very real danger of passing out.
He glanced up at her hairline. Her blonde hair was crusted with blood and matted to her forehead. The fair color probably made the blood seem much worse than it was - but even minor head wounds were a serious thing. “You’re hurt.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” she snapped. She eased another step back , but when she shifted her weight, her knees buckled.
With his preternatural reflexes, he was by her side, scooping her into his arms before she hit the ground. She looked up at him in some surprise. “Woah,” she muttered.
He cradled her tiny body against his chest and stretched his neck over hers in a gesture of dominance. She lolled her head against his chest. Her fight to stay conscious seemed to take all her attention. She had nothing left to spare for being wary of him. He gave into the temptation to bury his nose in her hair. It smelled of vanilla shampoo. He burrowed through the silky strands until he came to the white column of her neck.
The Beast whispered a temptation that the man couldn’t refuse. He licked a trail of wet kisses to the base of her skull. Once there he bit down gently - just enough to break the skin. More pressure than it took to scruff a pup, but less than snapping a neck.
She whimpered - a sound that shot pain through him. He released her neck as she tried to pull away from the pain that he’d inflicted. He made a series of calming noises in the back of his throat and soothed her hurt with his tongue. With a final tired whimper, she surrendered to the blackness.
She was his. Already, he could feel the changes his bite was making underneath her skin. He pulled her closer as his steps turned back to the cabin. Keeping her was another matter. She no doubt had a life back in the human world. Family and friends - though he doubted their quality if she was facing mortal danger all alone.
And she also had powerful enemies who wouldn’t rest until they had hunted her down, run her to ground, and destroyed her.
He shook his head at that. For all that wolves had a bad reputation, only a man would be cowardly enough to send another man after his enemies, rather than dealing with them himself. He looked at the blonde in his arms and shook his head. Only he would find one that was this much trouble. But trouble was what he liked, apparently.
His mind turned over a checklist of things that would have to be done to keep her. He would have to dispose of the mercenary’s body, and make both cars disappear.
Sam would object to what had been done. But Dean figured that he could let Sam assume responsibility for those tasks. That way - he would feel more in control of the situation by protecting their family.
In the meantime, Dean could focus on the most vital thing: ensuring that his mate would stay willingly with them.
***
Sam and Madison were both waiting when he toed the door open. Dean hadn’t really been surprised. They probably felt it when he extended the bloodline.
Madison looked his mate over with serious eyes.
“Her scent’s off.”
Dean growled in response.
“Madison bared her own teeth at him. “Knock it off, Dean! She wasn’t human to begin with, was she?”
That got Sam’s attention. With his Heinlin and Asimov collection, Sam was always curious about that sci-fi crap. “Madison’s right about the scent,” Sam said. “What do you think she is?”
“Mine,” Dean growled in response.
“Yours, fine, yes.” Sam waved impatiently. “We’re not trying to take her away. But we need to know what she is.”
“I’ll --,” he hesitated, looking over his mate’s pretty features. “I’ll find out.”
“And if she’s a threat?” Madison asked.
Dean looked down again and tenderly brushed the blonde strands away from his mate’s face. There was no way she could be a threat. The beast in him had recognized her as his. It wouldn’t have done that if she was a threat. But - the otherworldliness scared him a little. If she was a threat - he would do his duty to the pack and take her out.
The beast inside howled in anguish. It demanded that he protect her even unto his dying breath. Even against his pack. He knew - if he had to take her out, he wouldn’t survive long after.
“Then I’ll handle it.”
Sam grasped the implications of that instantly. “Dean.”
Dean cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I need you to clean up a mess.” He quickly explained about the car and the body. Sam nodded in understanding and led Madison away.
His mind assured that the mess would be handled, he turned it firmly to his next task: wrapping her so firmly in him that she would willingly stay. While he pondered over the best way to deal with things once she awoke, he realized that there couldn’t be a good way to do this.
How do you tell someone that they’re now a werewolf, that you made them one, and that they are tied to you for the rest of eternity? Oh, and that you want to get in on some hot breeding action while you’re at it?
He smirked again. He remembered the way she kept her head before. Even while injured she still had the presence of mind to snap back at him rather than freak out. It gave him some kind of clue as to what she did to make enemies, and of their nature. It also made him think that she would appreciate a direct approach to this new discovery.
His blood quickened as he imagined her - curious about this new world of sense, ready to learn all she could. To adapt to her environment and to use these new tools in her arsenal to take on the world. The man and beast both grew excited at the idea of taking her with them on a hunt.
He carried her to his room and poured a basin of water. Then, he did his best to ignore the cries of the beast, and the urges of his own body as he divested her of her bloody, torn clothing and gently scrubbed away the dirt and blood -- evidence of the night’s adventure.
When she was clean, he carried her to his bed. He left his own clothing in a pile on the floor and slid under the sheets next to her.
You didn’t get much more direct than this. Ordinarily, he would have been worried that she would freak out at waking up naked, in a strange bed with a strange man. But he was counting on her new instincts to keep her calm and to recognize him for who and what he was to her now.
At some point in the night, her scent changed. The otherworldly smell muted and blended with the scent that he had given her: the scent of her own beast. He wondered what that meant and hoped that it was good. In the pre-dawn hours, when false dawn was lightening the sky outside, her eyes opened at last.
***
Chloe’s dreams were strange. It was as if something inhuman had crept into them, crept into her. And was held there, lurking just below the skin, waiting to get out.
She felt, for the first time, a duality of nature. As if she were Chloe Sullivan, and The Other.
Her other self called to her, wanted her to join it to the inhuman to become more. This must happen! It insisted. It is right and good and important.
She knew - without really knowing why, that the choice was hers. That she could keep her other self, and the inhuman apart. She also felt the weight of history on her shoulders - as if no one else had ever had the choice before. As if the universe was holding a collective breath, waiting to see what she would do.
But Chloe didn’t make decisions without knowing.
Why? She insisted.
Why!? Her other seemed petulant. As if it had little patience to explain to her something that, for it, was instinct.
Why? She insisted.
Her other responded with a barrage of sensation, images and feelings that left her reeling. Though she struggled to make sense of the input, the only part of it that made sense were the feelings of safety, of belonging, of family, and of him.
He was near. And she somehow knew that he was responsible for her altered state. While the part of her that had always been felt fear at that, the other and the inhuman both strived for him. Longed for him.
Her other insisted that she need not fear him. That he was her protector. Her champion, her tie to the rest - family. Security. Love.
That thought gave her pause. That there was someone who would love her. Did love her. Had changed her out of love.
How is this possible? She raged against the other. He doesn’t know me.
He knows you, the inhuman insisted. He is yours. You are his. You are same. Instinct.
She realized that she wanted that: Security. Family. Love. Him. But something was stopping her - fear.
No, the other insisted. No fear. Action.
She could sense his presence - just beyond the edges of her mind. Seeking her.
No fear. Action. Was it that simple?
There was one way to find out.
With a mental prayer, she let go of her restraint.
The other and the inhuman let out twin cries of triumph. They merged like crashing waves, pulling her with them into a turbulent sea of sensation.
She fought with the inhuman/other. Struggled against the overwhelming sensation, and found herself regaining consciousness like a whale breaching the surface of an ocean.
***
There were no lights in the room, but she could clearly see the details of his face, from his vivid hazel eyes to the tiniest scar on his chin.
She met his intense gaze with open curiosity. She was lying beneath him, his legs tangled with hers. They were both naked, and she wasn’t afraid.
“Who are you?” she asked him.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. His muscular chest brushed her sensitive breasts, sending delicious shivers through her.
“Who do you think?” his answering growl shot down her back, send her arching against him. He pulled back to gauge her reaction with a cocksure grin.
Her answering growl left his eyes glittering with arousal.
“Mine.”
“Yes.” His lips crashed down on hers. His hands slid over her curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
“Yours,” his lips branded her as they blazed a trail down her neck. “And you’re mine.” He left open-mouthed kisses across her shoulders and down through the valley between her breasts.
He covered her breast with his mouth. First circling one with his tongue, then nipping at it before soothing the hurt with his lips again, then turning his attention to the other. All the while supporting her with hands that seemed to be everywhere. Cradling her head, lifting her shoulders so that her breasts were thrust higher into his demanding mouth. Then leaving her back to travel southward and lift her hips to ground against his growing hardness.
She whimpered and clutched desperately at his shoulders as one hand found its way to the juncture between her thighs. He paused, one hand holding her hips down so that she couldn’t grind against him, the other splayed over her mound.
“You want this.”
She whimpered in response, arching against the hands that restrained her.
“You do,” his cocksure grin was back. “Then say it.”
“What?” she asked impatiently.
“You know.” He bent and teased a nipple with sharp teeth.
She realized that she did know. The instinct was there. With a desperate nod, she threw her head back, exposing her neck in the show of submission that he wanted. “Yours,” she gasped out. “I’m . . . yours.”
“Forever,” he prompted, and then bit down on her nipple, sending pleasure coursing through her.
“Forever,” she whimpered. She realized that she didn’t know his name, that he hadn’t asked for hers. But right now that wasn’t important. Yours and mine pretty much said all that needed to be said with words. They were saying everything else with hands and lips and soft rumbling growls.
He grinned up at her and slid his thumb over her mound. She jerked in response and would have arched into him again, if his other hand wasn’t preventing her.
He grinned, and then slid a finger into her slick core.
She shut her eyes and moaned against the sensation. She almost jerked again as she felt him release her hips, and brace himself to lean down and whisper into her ear while she used her new freedom to ride his hand.
“Knew you were mine,” he whispered into her ear. “Didn’t have to see you. I could smell you. Knew right then that I had to get you like this. Had to have you like this forever.”
His words send a new jolt of arousal through her, and she knew that she was very close to the edge.
“I want to see you,” he whispered as he slipped a second digit into her. She moaned and increased her pace. Half mad with wanting.
“You like that,” he said with a cocky grin. “Come for me. Let me see you come for me.”
She nodded, and seconds later, as she unraveled, she forced her eyes open to see his own transfixed expression.
When her heartbeat returned to normal, he gave her a feral grin. “My turn.”
Before she could answer, he turned her onto her belly with quick, sure hands. His arms snaked around her. One reaching up to cup her breast, the other moving down to her soft mound once again.
“What --” she started to protest, but the sudden duality of pain and pleasure of his fingers on her already-sore breast stole her breath away.
“My turn,” he growled in her ear before sinking his teeth into her shoulder. She yelped at the pain and tried to pull away, but his weight on top of her held her in place. He quickly soothed the bite with his tongue, even as he nudged her thighs apart and tilted her hips back. With one sure move, he was buried deep within her.
She moaned in response, too overwhelmed by the barrage of pleasurable sensations. Her mate was claiming her the way he hunted: storming her defenses. Overwhelming any resistance. Giving her more than she could handle, and taking what he needed all at once. All she could do was hold on for dear life and enjoy the sensation.
He paused, his breathing ragged as his body covered hers, pressing her into the mattress. He once again nuzzled the back of her neck. For the first time, she was connected enough to her instinct to realize that he was establishing dominance. His breathing was ragged - a testament to how close to the edge her physical presence had taken him - and how iron his will that he remain in control, even of his own body.
“Feels good,” he whispered into her ear. His body shook like a coiled spring, just waiting to be released. “You’re so wet and tight. Going to love keeping you. Want to hear you scream my name.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine. “I don’t know your name.”
“Right now Mine works.”
At her nod, he began to thrust in earnest. The tension-tight spring released. He was Primal: wild and untamed. Like the night outside, like the dark, mysterious woods. Only sharing his secrets with her. Only demanding everything in return. And for this, for him, she was willing to give him what he wanted.
“Yours,” she moaned, whispered, screamed. “Yours always.”
And then they were both screaming. He pulled her tighter as he shuddered against her. Buried his essence deep within her. Gave a part of himself to her to fill the empty, dark places and took what she had to give in order to do the same.
When their flesh had cooled, and their heartbeats returned to normal, he rolled them onto their sides and covered them with a blanket. Then he kissed the side of her neck and rumbled contentedly.
As she rested her head against his shoulder, she realized that she still didn’t know his name, and that it didn’t concern her that much. The instinct that told her that they were irrevocably tied to one another also told her that his name - while forthcoming - wasn’t as important as who he was.
Chloe sighed contentedly. For once in her life, she was satisfied to put off her game of twenty questions in favor of rest. In the morning, when she was more alert, she would find out everything about him, and what he had done to her. For now, this was enough.
By: Pen37
Beta: clarksmuse
Rating: NC-17
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Dean, Sam, Madison
Pairing: Chloe/Dean,
Disclaimer: Not Mine, Fun only.
Summary: Werewolf!Dean claims a mate
Crossovers_100: #89 She
Author's notes:
I. I'm posting this in exactly three places. My LJ, crossovers_100, and Winchullivan.
II. Xtremeroswellia tells me that she is holding the next 2 guys fic hostage until I post this. I was going to wait until Tomorrow to post it. But she's convinced me. Way to motivate, Angie.
When you came right down to it, hunter was just another word for predator.
Madison turned Sam.
Sam turned Dean.
And then Sam and Dean discovered that while they were changed, they weren’t different.
Three days a month, they holed up in Caleb’s old cabin deep in the National Forest. They went there to keep from hurting other people.
The rest of the time, they just kept doing what they did best. Saving people. Hunting things. The family business.
If anything, the beast inside gave them an edge. They stayed cautious. They stayed under the radar of other hunters.
They were fine.
Until Dean realized that he was lonely.
He’d always loved the ladies. And anyone warm and willing would do.
The beast didn’t agree. Wolves mated for life. His beast wouldn’t settle for anything less than a worthy, equal partner.
It was out of the question. They protected people. They didn’t - make more monsters.
But the longer he denied his beast, the harder it was to control.
He was erratic. Moody. Violent. Aggressive.
And during the full moon, he was worse. At night, Sam locked him in a cage.
The recipe for disaster was just missing one element - her.
Whoever she was.
Dean was certain of one thing. If the wolf found his mate - he didn’t think the man could stop it.
He just hoped he had the courage to put a silver bullet in his heart to end his life before he ended hers.
***
Rain. Pavement. Headlights. Squealing brakes. Ground was up. Sky was down. Pain.
Chloe blinked against the blinding pain. Her head felt like an axe murderer had taken a warm-up swing on it.
Gingerly, she touched her head. Her hand came away bloody.
With a faint groan, she realized that she had been deliberately run off the road.
Lex was obviously taking advantage of Superman’s absence in Metropolis to settle old scores. With a shake of her head, she unclipped her seatbelt and rolled out the broken window and onto the muddy ditch.
She circled the overturned Yaris and opened the trunk. Her jumbled arsenal fell out at her feet.
She picked though the mess with a sense of urgency. Lex didn’t leave things to chance. Whoever just ran her off the road would be back, and soon.
Sturdy boots, coat, flashlight, taser, backpack with MREs, water bottle. She grabbed her provisions and took off.
***
Her!
The beast rose up and took control. Sent him charging through the moonlit forest.
Run! Hurry! Protect her!
Inside, the man sifted through confusing input to figure out what was driving the beast.
Her scent latched onto him like a barbed hook. Buried itself deep under his skin and stuck painfully.
Ripped him open.
Left a hole in him that only she could fill.
Sweet and spicy. Perfume and ink, sweat and blood. Newsprint, adrenaline and determination. Something other than human. Saturated with otherworldliness. Yet earthy, like cornfields and apple pie.
Mine! The beast howled in his mind. Findprotecttakekeepmine!
The man agreed. There would be no saving her from the beast. Because he wanted her just as much as it did.
And heaven help anyone who stood in his way.
Her scent saturated an upturned car. The open trunk told him that she was an adventurer - if not a hunter.
Someone had been here first. Their scent held the same edge of otherworldliness that hers did. But overlain with a sterile lab scent.
He dares harm her. Kill him. Protect her. Mine.
His preternaturally sharp eyes picked up her track, even as he caught her scent again. He caught up to them in time to see her fall.
The scent of her blood sent the beast into a murderous rage. He launched himself at her attacker. For his trouble, he was thrown into a tree. The beast shook it off, while the man realized that his opponent was inhumanly strong.
When he looked up again, his enemy had put her head in a crushing grip. His preternatural hearing picked up her tiny, hurt whimpers. At the sound, his world took on a red haze. He howled in rage and threw himself into the fray again.
This time, each arm was wrenched apart uncomfortably. He had the vague, disquieting thought that his arms were going to be torn from his body. Just when the pressure was becoming unbearable - His enemy jerked once, and then fell over.
He looked up in confusion - and saw her - tazer in hand - standing over her attacker. Her eyes were flat and hard with determination. When she turned to regard him, it was with wariness, as opposed to gratitude. She obviously was experienced enough to know that a common enemy didn’t automatically make them packmates.
The beast inside let out a satisfied growl. She was worthy. She had protected herself and saved him. She was the mate it had been waiting for.
The man recalled her wary expression, the way she gripped the tazer, and fought for control. He kept his distance from her, hands hung loosely at his sides in a non-threatening pose. “Are you alright?”
“Where did you come from?” From behind her weapon, she quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Not far from here,” he said nonchalantly. “My family has a cabin.”
“Yeah? So did Leatherface.”
He grinned at her sarcasm. Even injured and scared, she had a quick mouth. As a man, he could see what his beast already knew. She was perfect.
His expression must not have been that reassuring, because he could see her edging back. As if a few feet of distance could make that much of a difference. Her hands were shaking, and she was swaying. He could tell that she was in very real danger of passing out.
He glanced up at her hairline. Her blonde hair was crusted with blood and matted to her forehead. The fair color probably made the blood seem much worse than it was - but even minor head wounds were a serious thing. “You’re hurt.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” she snapped. She eased another step back , but when she shifted her weight, her knees buckled.
With his preternatural reflexes, he was by her side, scooping her into his arms before she hit the ground. She looked up at him in some surprise. “Woah,” she muttered.
He cradled her tiny body against his chest and stretched his neck over hers in a gesture of dominance. She lolled her head against his chest. Her fight to stay conscious seemed to take all her attention. She had nothing left to spare for being wary of him. He gave into the temptation to bury his nose in her hair. It smelled of vanilla shampoo. He burrowed through the silky strands until he came to the white column of her neck.
The Beast whispered a temptation that the man couldn’t refuse. He licked a trail of wet kisses to the base of her skull. Once there he bit down gently - just enough to break the skin. More pressure than it took to scruff a pup, but less than snapping a neck.
She whimpered - a sound that shot pain through him. He released her neck as she tried to pull away from the pain that he’d inflicted. He made a series of calming noises in the back of his throat and soothed her hurt with his tongue. With a final tired whimper, she surrendered to the blackness.
She was his. Already, he could feel the changes his bite was making underneath her skin. He pulled her closer as his steps turned back to the cabin. Keeping her was another matter. She no doubt had a life back in the human world. Family and friends - though he doubted their quality if she was facing mortal danger all alone.
And she also had powerful enemies who wouldn’t rest until they had hunted her down, run her to ground, and destroyed her.
He shook his head at that. For all that wolves had a bad reputation, only a man would be cowardly enough to send another man after his enemies, rather than dealing with them himself. He looked at the blonde in his arms and shook his head. Only he would find one that was this much trouble. But trouble was what he liked, apparently.
His mind turned over a checklist of things that would have to be done to keep her. He would have to dispose of the mercenary’s body, and make both cars disappear.
Sam would object to what had been done. But Dean figured that he could let Sam assume responsibility for those tasks. That way - he would feel more in control of the situation by protecting their family.
In the meantime, Dean could focus on the most vital thing: ensuring that his mate would stay willingly with them.
***
Sam and Madison were both waiting when he toed the door open. Dean hadn’t really been surprised. They probably felt it when he extended the bloodline.
Madison looked his mate over with serious eyes.
“Her scent’s off.”
Dean growled in response.
“Madison bared her own teeth at him. “Knock it off, Dean! She wasn’t human to begin with, was she?”
That got Sam’s attention. With his Heinlin and Asimov collection, Sam was always curious about that sci-fi crap. “Madison’s right about the scent,” Sam said. “What do you think she is?”
“Mine,” Dean growled in response.
“Yours, fine, yes.” Sam waved impatiently. “We’re not trying to take her away. But we need to know what she is.”
“I’ll --,” he hesitated, looking over his mate’s pretty features. “I’ll find out.”
“And if she’s a threat?” Madison asked.
Dean looked down again and tenderly brushed the blonde strands away from his mate’s face. There was no way she could be a threat. The beast in him had recognized her as his. It wouldn’t have done that if she was a threat. But - the otherworldliness scared him a little. If she was a threat - he would do his duty to the pack and take her out.
The beast inside howled in anguish. It demanded that he protect her even unto his dying breath. Even against his pack. He knew - if he had to take her out, he wouldn’t survive long after.
“Then I’ll handle it.”
Sam grasped the implications of that instantly. “Dean.”
Dean cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I need you to clean up a mess.” He quickly explained about the car and the body. Sam nodded in understanding and led Madison away.
His mind assured that the mess would be handled, he turned it firmly to his next task: wrapping her so firmly in him that she would willingly stay. While he pondered over the best way to deal with things once she awoke, he realized that there couldn’t be a good way to do this.
How do you tell someone that they’re now a werewolf, that you made them one, and that they are tied to you for the rest of eternity? Oh, and that you want to get in on some hot breeding action while you’re at it?
He smirked again. He remembered the way she kept her head before. Even while injured she still had the presence of mind to snap back at him rather than freak out. It gave him some kind of clue as to what she did to make enemies, and of their nature. It also made him think that she would appreciate a direct approach to this new discovery.
His blood quickened as he imagined her - curious about this new world of sense, ready to learn all she could. To adapt to her environment and to use these new tools in her arsenal to take on the world. The man and beast both grew excited at the idea of taking her with them on a hunt.
He carried her to his room and poured a basin of water. Then, he did his best to ignore the cries of the beast, and the urges of his own body as he divested her of her bloody, torn clothing and gently scrubbed away the dirt and blood -- evidence of the night’s adventure.
When she was clean, he carried her to his bed. He left his own clothing in a pile on the floor and slid under the sheets next to her.
You didn’t get much more direct than this. Ordinarily, he would have been worried that she would freak out at waking up naked, in a strange bed with a strange man. But he was counting on her new instincts to keep her calm and to recognize him for who and what he was to her now.
At some point in the night, her scent changed. The otherworldly smell muted and blended with the scent that he had given her: the scent of her own beast. He wondered what that meant and hoped that it was good. In the pre-dawn hours, when false dawn was lightening the sky outside, her eyes opened at last.
***
Chloe’s dreams were strange. It was as if something inhuman had crept into them, crept into her. And was held there, lurking just below the skin, waiting to get out.
She felt, for the first time, a duality of nature. As if she were Chloe Sullivan, and The Other.
Her other self called to her, wanted her to join it to the inhuman to become more. This must happen! It insisted. It is right and good and important.
She knew - without really knowing why, that the choice was hers. That she could keep her other self, and the inhuman apart. She also felt the weight of history on her shoulders - as if no one else had ever had the choice before. As if the universe was holding a collective breath, waiting to see what she would do.
But Chloe didn’t make decisions without knowing.
Why? She insisted.
Why!? Her other seemed petulant. As if it had little patience to explain to her something that, for it, was instinct.
Why? She insisted.
Her other responded with a barrage of sensation, images and feelings that left her reeling. Though she struggled to make sense of the input, the only part of it that made sense were the feelings of safety, of belonging, of family, and of him.
He was near. And she somehow knew that he was responsible for her altered state. While the part of her that had always been felt fear at that, the other and the inhuman both strived for him. Longed for him.
Her other insisted that she need not fear him. That he was her protector. Her champion, her tie to the rest - family. Security. Love.
That thought gave her pause. That there was someone who would love her. Did love her. Had changed her out of love.
How is this possible? She raged against the other. He doesn’t know me.
He knows you, the inhuman insisted. He is yours. You are his. You are same. Instinct.
She realized that she wanted that: Security. Family. Love. Him. But something was stopping her - fear.
No, the other insisted. No fear. Action.
She could sense his presence - just beyond the edges of her mind. Seeking her.
No fear. Action. Was it that simple?
There was one way to find out.
With a mental prayer, she let go of her restraint.
The other and the inhuman let out twin cries of triumph. They merged like crashing waves, pulling her with them into a turbulent sea of sensation.
She fought with the inhuman/other. Struggled against the overwhelming sensation, and found herself regaining consciousness like a whale breaching the surface of an ocean.
***
There were no lights in the room, but she could clearly see the details of his face, from his vivid hazel eyes to the tiniest scar on his chin.
She met his intense gaze with open curiosity. She was lying beneath him, his legs tangled with hers. They were both naked, and she wasn’t afraid.
“Who are you?” she asked him.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. His muscular chest brushed her sensitive breasts, sending delicious shivers through her.
“Who do you think?” his answering growl shot down her back, send her arching against him. He pulled back to gauge her reaction with a cocksure grin.
Her answering growl left his eyes glittering with arousal.
“Mine.”
“Yes.” His lips crashed down on hers. His hands slid over her curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
“Yours,” his lips branded her as they blazed a trail down her neck. “And you’re mine.” He left open-mouthed kisses across her shoulders and down through the valley between her breasts.
He covered her breast with his mouth. First circling one with his tongue, then nipping at it before soothing the hurt with his lips again, then turning his attention to the other. All the while supporting her with hands that seemed to be everywhere. Cradling her head, lifting her shoulders so that her breasts were thrust higher into his demanding mouth. Then leaving her back to travel southward and lift her hips to ground against his growing hardness.
She whimpered and clutched desperately at his shoulders as one hand found its way to the juncture between her thighs. He paused, one hand holding her hips down so that she couldn’t grind against him, the other splayed over her mound.
“You want this.”
She whimpered in response, arching against the hands that restrained her.
“You do,” his cocksure grin was back. “Then say it.”
“What?” she asked impatiently.
“You know.” He bent and teased a nipple with sharp teeth.
She realized that she did know. The instinct was there. With a desperate nod, she threw her head back, exposing her neck in the show of submission that he wanted. “Yours,” she gasped out. “I’m . . . yours.”
“Forever,” he prompted, and then bit down on her nipple, sending pleasure coursing through her.
“Forever,” she whimpered. She realized that she didn’t know his name, that he hadn’t asked for hers. But right now that wasn’t important. Yours and mine pretty much said all that needed to be said with words. They were saying everything else with hands and lips and soft rumbling growls.
He grinned up at her and slid his thumb over her mound. She jerked in response and would have arched into him again, if his other hand wasn’t preventing her.
He grinned, and then slid a finger into her slick core.
She shut her eyes and moaned against the sensation. She almost jerked again as she felt him release her hips, and brace himself to lean down and whisper into her ear while she used her new freedom to ride his hand.
“Knew you were mine,” he whispered into her ear. “Didn’t have to see you. I could smell you. Knew right then that I had to get you like this. Had to have you like this forever.”
His words send a new jolt of arousal through her, and she knew that she was very close to the edge.
“I want to see you,” he whispered as he slipped a second digit into her. She moaned and increased her pace. Half mad with wanting.
“You like that,” he said with a cocky grin. “Come for me. Let me see you come for me.”
She nodded, and seconds later, as she unraveled, she forced her eyes open to see his own transfixed expression.
When her heartbeat returned to normal, he gave her a feral grin. “My turn.”
Before she could answer, he turned her onto her belly with quick, sure hands. His arms snaked around her. One reaching up to cup her breast, the other moving down to her soft mound once again.
“What --” she started to protest, but the sudden duality of pain and pleasure of his fingers on her already-sore breast stole her breath away.
“My turn,” he growled in her ear before sinking his teeth into her shoulder. She yelped at the pain and tried to pull away, but his weight on top of her held her in place. He quickly soothed the bite with his tongue, even as he nudged her thighs apart and tilted her hips back. With one sure move, he was buried deep within her.
She moaned in response, too overwhelmed by the barrage of pleasurable sensations. Her mate was claiming her the way he hunted: storming her defenses. Overwhelming any resistance. Giving her more than she could handle, and taking what he needed all at once. All she could do was hold on for dear life and enjoy the sensation.
He paused, his breathing ragged as his body covered hers, pressing her into the mattress. He once again nuzzled the back of her neck. For the first time, she was connected enough to her instinct to realize that he was establishing dominance. His breathing was ragged - a testament to how close to the edge her physical presence had taken him - and how iron his will that he remain in control, even of his own body.
“Feels good,” he whispered into her ear. His body shook like a coiled spring, just waiting to be released. “You’re so wet and tight. Going to love keeping you. Want to hear you scream my name.”
His words sent a shiver down her spine. “I don’t know your name.”
“Right now Mine works.”
At her nod, he began to thrust in earnest. The tension-tight spring released. He was Primal: wild and untamed. Like the night outside, like the dark, mysterious woods. Only sharing his secrets with her. Only demanding everything in return. And for this, for him, she was willing to give him what he wanted.
“Yours,” she moaned, whispered, screamed. “Yours always.”
And then they were both screaming. He pulled her tighter as he shuddered against her. Buried his essence deep within her. Gave a part of himself to her to fill the empty, dark places and took what she had to give in order to do the same.
When their flesh had cooled, and their heartbeats returned to normal, he rolled them onto their sides and covered them with a blanket. Then he kissed the side of her neck and rumbled contentedly.
As she rested her head against his shoulder, she realized that she still didn’t know his name, and that it didn’t concern her that much. The instinct that told her that they were irrevocably tied to one another also told her that his name - while forthcoming - wasn’t as important as who he was.
Chloe sighed contentedly. For once in her life, she was satisfied to put off her game of twenty questions in favor of rest. In the morning, when she was more alert, she would find out everything about him, and what he had done to her. For now, this was enough.