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The Way We Are	By : shespeaksofnothing Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 2261 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
The Way We Are

"To every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The forces of two bodies upon each other are always equal and directed to contrary parts." Hatred, fear, love, and madness: such is the nature of the werewolf. The constant conflict between human and beast may break the foundations of the pack. If it is not torn apart by war, first.

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A/N: I should mention that this story does just pick up in the middle and take off. There is actually A LOT of background before all of this, but to add it to the main plot that I have planned would make this thing pretty freakin� epic. I have already worked on a few mini background stories to go along with this, which I hope to post in time. Especially before I get to the climax, so that it will make more sense. SO ANYWAY, there�s a lot going on behind the scenes, lots of history between all characters - OC and otherwise - that I will briefly touch on as I go. :3
This chapter is pretty long, btw. Oh, and smut!

Chapter 3

Morning light was harsh. It burned through the thick grime coating the windows, through the curtains, even through sheets. The little werewolf groaned at the intrusion, rolling to her other side and covering her face with a pillow. She was groggy from sleeping too much, and her body seemed to protest all movement. The Changing Day was growing closer. Her body still seemed foreign during the days closing in on the full moon. Fenrir had said it was normal to feel a bit uncomfortable in your bones as your body was preparing itself for the change. She sat up, head giving a mighty throb and she groaned. There was a soft clomping of boots in the hallway. Her eyes raised to the doorway, grazing sleepily over her mate, who leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes raked over her black nightdress clad figure, however hunched it was with legs hanging over the bed. No humor graced his face, as it usually would with such glances. He looked better rested, but no less strained than he had yesterday. Annette smiled at him drowsily and covered her mouth with the back of her hand when she yawned. She didn�t bother to ask him any questions about his whereabouts today, instead she simply stood and went to him, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his furry chest. They stood that way for a few long moments before he finally responded, clutching her to him and caressing her back. She�d never know, but he silently never wanted to let her leave the circle of his arms again. After a time, he let go, gripping her arms and slowly pushing her away from him. His face was emotionless as he looked down at her. She frowned, a line creasing between her eyebrows.
�Get dressed, now. We�ve got to go.�
She cocked her head to one side curiously, still frowning. �What do you mean, �go�?�
�We�re leaving this place for a while.�
�Fenrir, what�s going on?� she said pensively.
�Just do as I say, Annette.�
He strode quickly into the room past her, opening the wardrobe near the window and rummaging through it. She watched him for a moment, groggy head still pounding mercilessly.
�Most of your books are packed. Bring only what you are able to carry.� He threw some spare clothes across the bed, some of hers and some of his, along with an old canvas rucksack. Their possessions were sparse, consisting mainly of a few articles of clothing for day and night, her small collection of books, toiletries, and the food in the cupboards. The werewolf stuffed their collective wardrobe roughly into the rucksack, pausing to look at her when she didn�t move.
�Annette.� his voice was hoarse and severe, startling out of her stupor.
She nodded dumbly, picking her clothes from his amongst the sheets. It wasn�t tricky considering the size difference, but nearly everything either owned was darkly colored. The female stripped off her nightdress, stuffing it into the bag along with the rest. She pulled on a black lace and silk button down with a Victorian collar, a pair of grey worn soft leather pants, which she had to wiggle into, and reached for her high black boots, buttoning them up to her knee. The majority of the she-wolf�s attire, though usually kind to her physique, covered her nearly from head to toe. Her entire body bore vicious scars, and like her face, she chose to cover them on the rare occasion that she ventured out. Only in the presence of her pack did she feel safe enough to expose them, as most were marred in some way and a few had witnessed or even caused them. The female reached into the bag, trying to recognize her belt by touch, extricating it from the bag and securing it around her hips, the attached wand holster snapped around her thigh for extra security.
He watched her dress expectantly, his blood warming, She wouldn�t have been able to get that shirt halfway on if there weren�t more pressing matters just now. The petite werewolf parted her hair absently as she gazed at herself in the mirror for a moment. Fenrir noticed she had a strange expression on her face. She was quietly watching him watch her, regarding both of their reflections in the mirror. At her angle they were next to one another, though he was nearly across the room, she considered what they must look like together. He was tall, solid and rough. With dark eyes, with too much hair and sharp angles to his face. She was small and delicately curved, with fair skin, dark hair, and cool blue eyes. But the woman staring back wasn�t a face she recognized. She was some sort of alternate version of herself, dressed all in black. They just didn�t�match. Yes, she was a werewolf. The scars covering her body and wild hair and pointed canine teeth left no physical doubt, but she was so much softer by appearance. She glanced meaningfully at the wide, dark bite mark across her upper arm, its shadow visible even through antiquated lace, Fenrir�s face framed above the shoulder as he watched her. Next to him, she looked like nothing more than a child forced to play a perverted game of dress up. Though some small voice she never heeded told her that she was in her thirties now, her childhood was over. She shook her head slightly to clear those thoughts. There couldn�t be a stranger pair, she mused.
�We�ve got to hurry.� he urged.
She nodded, �I�m ready.�
Greyback threw the rucksack over his shoulder, tossing her studded grey jacket to her. She caught it and slipped it on, pulling her dark hair over the collar.
�Where will we go?�
He put a finger to his lips and jerked his head in the direction of the door. She moved wordlessly, down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out into the back garden. He stayed close, with a large hand at the small of her back. They walked quickly, and she stole glances of the little cottage as they put some distance between it and themselves. His hand guided her to the line of trees in the distance. The tension in his body traveled down his fingers to her back, and she could hear him sniffing the air and turning his head side to side. They made it past the clearing, into the edge of a thick forest without incident. Fenrir stopped, looking around, squinting his eyes and smelling deeply. Annette stood stark still, barely breathing as her apprehension rose. They were being followed. They must be. Shadows played at the edge of her vision. She wished for Fenrir�s senses, to hear every rustle of leaves and smell every gust of wind. Without warning, he grabbed her hand roughly, and took off like a shot. She was nearly pulled off her feet, stumbling in her heeled boots. The werewolf all but dragged her through the trees, dodging and weaving between them as the forest grew denser. When he finally stopped, they were both panting hard. The light here seemed to be graying, and Annette didn�t know if the sun were setting or if the canopy above them were just that dense. Fenrir stood, trying to catch his breath, turning round again, scanning all the tree line. She was terrified, were they still being followed? Fenrir closed his eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. He hadn�t released her hand yet. She knew what this meant. He was trying to clear his head. They were going to Apparate. She clenched his fingers tightly, she hated Apparating. He took one last look around, making sure he had a tight hold of her hand, and they were gone.

Annette felt nauseated. Her stomach did summersaults, bouncing against her diaphragm. Her eyes were still squeezed shut tightly, trying to regain control of her equilibrium and find her footing. Fenrir let go of her hand, and she thought she heard him sigh with relief. It was nearly dark here, and very, very still. Before she had time to get her bearings, she was nearly laid out by a flying tackle. She screeched and opened her eyes, a familiar brown-red head obscuring her vision.
�Half-head!� came a jubilant cry.
She laughed despite the rather unexpected surprise, and hugged the twenty-something man in her arms tightly. He nuzzled his nose into her cheek then pulled back from her, holding her about the waist, green eyes twinkling with delight. He was less than a foot taller than her, with a big, expressive mouth and shaggy brownish red hair. His lithe body seemed to buzz with nervous energy, even when he was standing still. His given name was Loki, but he was known as Proudtail, as all were named differently here. Looking over Proudtail�s shoulder, she saw another familiar face. This man was older, but how old she could only speculate. He was a tall, broad shouldered man with dark skin and short dark hair. His face was stern and serious, his golden eyes piercing. He was known as Ironhide, but his name was Anubis. He graced her with a small grin as she waved around Proudtail�s back before inclining his head respectfully to Fenrir, who did the same. The young werewolf let go of Annette, suddenly remembering Greyback�s presence, and greeted him by ducking his head low and bumping against his shoulder. The larger werewolf growled, shrugging the smaller off of him irritably.
Annette rounded on Fenrir, �Alright, now can you tell me what�s going on?�
He crossed his arms over his chest but didn�t meet her eyes, �I�d been followed.�
�Well I gathered that much.�
�They�ve been watching us for months now.� He sighed heavily, �And I didn�t even realize it.�
�Oh gods�� unconsciously, her hand flew up to her mouth in horror. �Fenrir�was it�?�
�Voldemort. The Death Eaters have been tailing us all this time.�
Proudtail looked pale, and Ironhide furrowed his brow.
�Was it�because they wanted-�
Greyback�s hand shot up to silence her and he shook his head, then turned to Ironhide. �We need to rest. You two scout around the area, make sure we haven�t been followed. If anyone is in the forest that isn�t supposed to be, kill them.�
Ironhide inclined his head, gesturing that he understood.
�How are the stores since last moon?� Greyback continued absently.
�Winter is coming soon, Alpha. We�re catching what we can but animals are running scarce. The storehouse could use a charm refresh, its still too warm to store any meat for long.�
�Smaller game is scarce at any rate,� chimed in Proudtail, �there are still plenty of elk about, but we can�t very well take them down for another week.�
�Don�t worry, we�ll have plenty to eat for the moon.� Greyback rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. �I�m bedding down for the night. I don�t want to be disturbed. Any business can be held until morning.�
�Yes, Greyback.�
Proudtail and Ironhide set off, disappearing through the dense trees. Fenrir grunted heavily before stalking off in the other direction, Half-head at his side. He lead the way a few miles to the east, where the forest opened up into a deep valley. The main part of the pack�s territory consisted of twin peaks, set in the middle of a small range, along with the surrounding forests and the valley between. The pack itself resided at the foot of one mountain, spread out over a few miles of dense forest. Their range was mostly for hunting and giving them enough undeterred room to roam under the full moon. As the trees grew less dense and the lake below peeked over the edge of the steep base, they neared a squat little shack. The female sighed, noticing the sun had set, feeling the season�s chill seep into her body.
The shack wasn�t much to look at from the outside, even less from the inside. It was a cramped two room space, with little more than an armchair in the first room next to a small fireplace, and two large cots pushed together in the second. There was a small outhouse hidden behind the little shack, but little else of human comfort. Greyback set the rucksack on the armchair, slowly peeling off his clothing as he walked between rooms. He didn�t bother to light any candles or a fire, but there was enough moonlight to see. The alpha slumped into one of the cots, pulling the blankets up around him and heaving a sigh that seemed to make the timbers tremble. His mate watched him carefully, unsure of his mood. She sighed as well, slipping her coat and boots off. It seemed like all she�d done this past week was sleep. Nevertheless, she felt quite worn out over this ordeal. She wanted to know�everything. But she was certain she�d only be wasting her breath by pestering him. The little female crawled into the adjacent cot, whining softly, calling to him. He responded with a whine of his own, and he pulled her tight against him. She went to him easily, still in her shirt and leather pants, letting her body fit into the contours of his. The werewolf gazed at his mate for a while, before leaning down and brushing her lips with his own. She stiffened at first, but then relaxed. It seemed like such a rare form of affection from him, though probably the most common ritual among lovers. The female leaned into the kiss, but he didn�t move to deepen it, he just slid his lips across hers for minutes upon minutes. He broke it softly, sighing and pulling her head to rest beneath his chin. She made a noise against his throat, and he whined again, long and loud this time, and she nuzzled him gently. Her hands caressed over his back, she didn�t know what else to do. His breathing seemed to deepen, and for a while she thought he might be asleep, until he spoke softly.
�He wanted to see me Himself. To convince me to join up with them.�
Half-head was silent, waiting for him to continue.
�I was in a right state after Malfoy�s little visit. Tried to make him tell me how he found a place that was supposed to be Unplottable and so far away from civilization. He just kept insisting that I was to meet with the Dark Lord, Himself before I made any �rash decisions�. I went for it. I talked to Him, He pitched me a deal. I reckon He thinks I must be really stupid to take some of the things He offered me seriously. Then�� Greyback paused for a moment, as if he considered stopping, he wasn�t accustomed to being this chatty. She clung to him, urging him to continue. After a moment he did, �He had this mirror thing. Something like a mirror, I think. I didn�t see anything when He held it, but then He handed it to me. I saw�well, I saw you. You were sitting on the bed, brushing your hair..,� he tangled his fingers in her locks, combing out the ends, ��I don�t know if it was real. You were just sitting, looking so peaceful there and He said what a lovely woman you were, and He never imagined me as a settled man. I knew then�I just knew that they�d been baiting me. He said they�d been watching us and that they could help�they�d help me get what I wanted this time, get everything I desired. He�d make sure our kind had a future. He�.said if I did what He asked, I�d be ensuring that you had a future, too. I just stood there�watching you in that mirror��
Silent tears were spilling down her cheeks. She wasn�t sure why she was crying, or when she had begun. Her eyes burned at the strange feeling. It had been a long, long time.
�He knows He can use you against me now. I just stood there like a damn fool while that bastard threatened you.� His voice rose in anger. His breathing was slow and shallow. His fingers continued to stroke her hair as she cried silently against his shoulder. Whether he was aware of it or not, she didn�t know. She knew why he hadn�t mentioned this in front of the others, why he�d been so serious and tense lately. He felt weak and vulnerable.
She was angry, angry because this was his way of telling her he�d joined the ranks of Voldemort�s army after all. It wasn�t a surprise, there was hardly a question of what he would do for personal gain. Despite what he was to her, she wasn�t enough of a fool to lie to herself about his unfailing greed or his bloodlust. Yes, he was different with her, but that they were together at all was a testament to his less desirable attributes. He�d resisted Voldemort�s invitation at first out of bitterness, as he never was one to let go of a grudge. But when the dark wizard threatened her...
Her head felt fuzzy. When had he become so caring toward her? Yes, he had shown compassion and tenderness in the past, but there had always been that iota of coolness in his demeanor that made her doubt his feelings. But his little speech just now�it felt much deeper, much more emotional than just raging at his circumstances. He�d always had a hard time expressing himself with words, but when he did speak she listened. She reflected on the way he�d talked about the vision of her in the mirror, as if it were some sort of daydream. No, idiot�you�re reading too much into it. It was that, she now knew, that the Dark Lord had been planning to use against him. The night that Malfoy showed up, Greyback was beside himself when she�d shown her face. To her, the werewolf had always treated her as some vulnerable little creature in a gilded cage. She was always shut up in that cottage when not in the company of either himself or the pack, rarely able to venture out alone. Did he worry about her well being so much that he kept her as a veritable prisoner? Or after all this time did he still fear she might make another bid for freedom? Didn�t he know how she felt, that she couldn�t bear to leave?
There was fear too. Fear that the Death Eater�s eyes were focused on her, that Voldemort, Himself was keenly aware of her very existence, and they might try to use her against her mate someday. Had they managed to follow them here? Did they know about the pack�s hunting grounds? Greyback had mentioned they�d been followed for months. How many full moons had passed? She shuddered at the thought that them being here might put the pack in danger.
The male werewolf let out another deep, shuddering sigh, letting the tension seep from his muscles. No, they weren�t in any obvious danger here. This place was protected: magical wards as well as a pack of feral werewolves were enough to keep even Death Eaters at bay. Otherwise he would never let his exhaustion show. A hand ran over her cheek. As his fingers brushed over the wet trail of tears, he bent his head to look her in the eye questioningly. She shook her head as a means of dismissal, scrubbing her reddened eyes with the back of her hand. He whined at her softly, and she gave him a small smile. Her hands reached out to brush against his face, letting her fingers graze over his cheekbones, his jaw, and back to his ears before shifting upward to brush against his lips again. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, and this time he did deepen the kiss.
His tongue was rough and metallic tasting, while hers was soft and salty, and they danced together between their lips, touching each other as only mouths are able. This intimacy put them both at ease. There was time for this now. They hadn�t touched each other this way in days, and now she knew why. She ached for him, and could feel his body responding to her. He was completely naked, his cock beginning to press firmly into her thigh. His large hands traveled up her back, fingers brushing beneath the hem of her top. Her skin tingled and goosebumps rose all over her body: his fingers were cold. The reaction didn�t go unnoticed, and he smiled against her lips playfully. The werewolf trailed his fingers over her sensitive sides and she twitched at the cold tickle. He chuckled softly, repeating the motion. She squeaked this time and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, tugging the hem of her shirt back down. His other hand snaked around her back, dipping into the edge of the high collar of her shirt and pressing against the back of her neck near her ear, where he knew she was sensitive. She squeaked again, giving him a threatening glare. He laughed this time, leaning in again and kissing her briefly before retracting his arm and propping himself up with his elbow. His other hand trailed down the curve of her waist to her hip and kneaded the thick flesh there as he took her in with penetrating cobalt eyes. The hand descended across the curve of her butt and he squeezed it through her trousers. She stared right back, trying to convey to him with only her eyes and her proximity that she understood- she didn�t agree with his choice, but she understood. He wasn�t weak, and he wasn�t a fool, and she�d forgive him time and time again as long as he returned to her in the end. The little werewolf put a hand on his bare chest, feeling his heart punching in its normal rhythm.
�I want you.� his voice was a harsh rasp.
�I�m already yours.� she replied.
He needed no further invitation. He growled deep in his chest, leaning over her slightly, capturing her mouth in another deep kiss. She unbuttoned her own shirt slowly as their mouths met, his hand roaming up to touch each inch of newly exposed flesh. When she reached the buttons of her collar she moaned, he was already slipping a hand under her half open shirt to run along the curve of her breast. His clawed fingers danced lightly over the underside, sneaking a glace and smirking as he felt the skin around her nipple contract instantly, the little nub peaking through the lace of her shirt. Pleased that she was responding so quickly, he traced his thumb over the pert little pebble, letting his nail flick back and forth quickly. She responded by running her hands across his chest and back for a moment before placing them again on the buttons of her collar. The last few closures relented, and she wiggled her arms from the sleeves before throwing it to the side. Her mate made a noise of appreciation and cupped her breast fully in his hand, thumbing the nipple again. He admired the soft globe of flesh as he kneaded it roughly. They weren�t large, just enough for a handful, and they were just as white and creamy as the rest of her skin.
Annette sighed against Fenrir�s mouth. The werewolf pulled back his head for a moment, looking down at his mate before moving to place a long, languid lick over the sensitive nub. Her skin tasted heavenly. The little female couldn�t help but smirk as she arched her back, pushing her chest against his mouth. He took the hint and repeated the action, this time nipping the pink flesh as his tongue finished. He wasn�t rough, but he knew she liked to feel each sensation, to be dominated by his touch. She ran cool fingers over the nape of his neck and through his hair as she watched him bite and suckle her breast. He growled softly and a shiver ran through him at her touch - the back of his neck was very, very sensitive. His cock jumped persistently against her leg, making its presence well known.
The female shifted slightly, laying flat on her back with a knee up. Her mate�s hand traveled down her chest, his mouth still firmly attached to her nipple, caressing her soft skin as it went. It paused in places along her abdomen, nails raking across her soft belly, tickling her sides, and fingering the network of twisting scar tissue that crossed her body. When he reached the waistband of her trousers, he tried sliding a hand beneath it, but the pants were too tight to allow him easy access. He turned his attention to fingering the gold button, slipping it easily from its hold, then trailing his hand down the zipper as its teeth separated. He didn�t stop there, but let his hand continue down between her thighs, applying pressure as he brushed over her nether region. She moaned softly and lifted her hips, her fingers curling in the hair at his nape. The male continued to rub her through the leather, moving his head to give her other nipple some much needed attention. She muttered a soft �oh� as the cool air brushed over her flushed skin.
Her free hand traced a line down his abdomen slowly, tantalizingly, combing through his soft fur with her fingers, tracing down the dark line of hair past his navel. The fingers came to rest right above the nest of wiry curls that contained his cock, but her arm wasn�t long enough to reach with them laying like this. He growled again as her fingers combed through the hair, teasing him. She was so close, he could feel the heat resonating from her hand. Nearly instantly the organ rose to its full glory, throbbing with anticipation against her thigh. After a few moments she felt for that length against her leg, her fingers only able to caress the sensitive head. The werewolf groaned with her nipple between his teeth, his affections becoming more urgent and rough. His roaming hand stopped rubbing between her legs, reaching up to the waistband of her trousers again, hooking a finger through a belt loop and tugging insistently. She chuckled breathlessly, shifting away from him a bit to peel the clothing from her body. Her hips lifted off of the bed for a moment as she pulled them down and he let go of her nipple, watching her intently. In her rush to dress that morning, she hadn�t bothered to put on any underwear. As the soft leather peeled away from her body, the trapped scent of her arousal bludgeoned his nostrils and he groaned deeply.
Before she could kick them all of the way off, he was moving over her, propping himself up on his elbows as he settled on his stomach. They shared another kiss, her tongue running over his bottom lip suggestively. Both made a noise of want and contentment. He splayed his hands against her sides, nipping each little nipple softly before trailing kisses down between her breasts. The werewolf took great care in showering each inch of her skin with kisses, paying special attention to any stray freckles, as they were his favorite thing and he�d memorized every one. She tangled her hands in his hair, noticing it needed a wash again, but she didn�t mind.
For a while the little werewolf thought her mate would descend further, but after a time he still lie there halfway on top of her, fingering and licking the imperfections of her skin. Shifting a little, she gently pulled his face up to look at her, asking if he was alright. He looked up into her face, drinking in the sight of her: head against the pillow, the moonlight luminous across her pale skin. Her eyes seemed to glow pale blue as they gazed back at him, her hair was tousled and her entire face exposed, the raised scars catching the light and looking eerily translucent. In the blanket of her locks something shimmered and caught his eye. There, almost hidden against her scalp near the destroyed shell of her left ear was a brilliant shock of silver hair. Instinctively, he reached to touch it, wanting to make sure it wasn�t just some trick of the light. Sure enough, it was there as he ran a finger over it. She looked at him curiously, obviously she hadn�t noticed it on herself yet. Far too young for any of that, he mused.
His hand ascended from her locks to her left ear. As he brushed it, she turned her face away with a pained expression. This was always her reaction, and he ignored it for the most part. He trailed his fingers over her cheekbone, across her eyebrow, and over her jaw line, touching the slash marks with expert fingers. Having had enough of it, the female grabbed his wrist, prying his hand from her face and giving him a dirty look. He knew she hated that, but he continued to do so whenever he felt like it. He didn�t see them as she did, for obvious reasons. He�d marked her the first time they�d met, and claimed her in a fit of weakness. They were like a badge of honor, as well as a clear sign to others that she was his, to the male. To Annette, they were a constant reminder of what she was, and how easily the tentative control over one�s wolf could snap. Bloodlust had all but claimed Fenrir�s mind that night, and there had been every intent to kill, not just bite. The female pushed those thoughts out of her mind, there was no point in ruining a perfectly good moment with those kinds of memories.
Still gripping his wrist, she placed his hand on her shoulder, urging it down over her chest, her breast, down her abdomen, and over her side to her hip before she let go. He smirked and ran the hand further down her thigh to the back of her knee, bringing the leg up to wrap around his hips. She nodded slightly at his silent question.
Usually there was more foreplay. Usually they�d spend hours winding one another up before descending into frantic almost animalistic fucking until both could hardly move anymore. But now he didn�t seem to want that, and she didn�t either. There was a lot of shifting around as he kneeled between her legs, the double cots creaked in protest as he tried to find a better position, the springs were digging into his knees painfully. He gripped her legs around the back of her knees, bringing each one up to rest on his shoulder at the ankle. His cock bobbed heavily between them, small bead of moisture shining from the tip. Annette licked her lips, thinking for a moment of that familiar taste. The werewolf turned his head to kiss each of her ankles, sitting on his haunches and running his hands across her smooth legs, down her thighs, and over the dark curls nestled between them. An experimental middle finger delved deeper, running along her nether lips, wondering if she were as receptive as she smelled. He groaned audibly when he contacted her slickness, as did she, she was soaking and the feel of it made his cock throb even harder. He dipped the finger in again, this time seeking the source of her wetness. He teased her opening for a few moments, circling along the outside, before pushing slightly inward. His mate moaned softly, rocking her hips the best she could with her legs elevated, and he pushed back enthusiastically for a few minutes.
When he retracted his hand, he brought the finger up to his lips and sucked soundly on it, reveling in her taste. She whimpered softly at the sight, trying to raise her hips, begging him. There was no further teasing this time as he grabbed her hips and angled them expertly, gripping the base of his cock and positioning himself at her entrance.
Her breathing hitched as he pushed slowly, her body eagerly accepting the intrusion, and she moaned as each inch filled her. Fenrir grunted as he seated himself within her, rolling his hips back and giving a small sharp thrust, as if trying to force himself deeper into her body. Annette�s head fell back against the pillows as she gasped loudly, and the werewolf above her smirked with satisfaction. He repeated the action again and again, pausing for random intervals between each thrust, reveling in the sounds she was making and watching her arch and squirm.
Teasing thrusts turned into deep penetrating ones as the two lovers fell into a familiar rhythm. In a short amount of time both were breathing raggedly and gasping with pleasure, sweat beginning to erupt between the spaces their bodies touched. His hips smacked soundly against her thighs and butt, each connection bouncing her up and down against the pillows. She was biting her bottom lip, worrying it between her slightly pointed teeth. A frantic need was building within the female, her body ached from the friction, but with each thrust she felt closer and closer to touching some deep, primal place within her. She rolled her hips back and forth, trying to pull him as deep as she could, his cock the only key to that secret within her that need only be touched once to send her into oblivion. He was pouring sweat, grunting and growling from the exertion, a need of his own pooling hot in his belly. Suddenly he shifted his weight, bending her double with her knees against her chest, his arms keeping them firmly in place at the crook of her knee as his strong hands gripped the mattress. The female cried out as this new angle drove him deeper into her center, and her hands came up to claw at his upper arms. He growled savagely, pounding the little female mercilessly into the mattress. Her fingers scraped along his skin, the taunt muscles flexing with each powerful thrust. She could feel his breath on her face, he was panting hard. Her cries were punctuated by each sharp thrust, cutting them off as he drove into her. The agony of it, the sheer bliss of being so close, came crashing down around her in a rush of shuddering and wailing as she came, contracting around him like a vice, bringing him over the edge with her.
The two clung to each other, gasping and shuddering as their orgasms ripped through them. For a long time they lay stuck together by sweat, gulping for air. Fenrir moved his arms, releasing her legs and she wrapped them around his hips as he lay inside of her. His hands reached up to tangle in her damp hair, still panting softly against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck, caressing his back with her fingernails. The male werewolf found himself chuckling against her shoulder, and the female turned her head to look at him the best she could , raising a questioning brow. He raised up onto his elbows, looking down at her. His eyes were heavily lidded and sparkling with satisfaction, his lips pulled up in a crooked smirk and his features were as relaxed as could be. He ran those lips briefly over her own swollen, bitten ones before pulling back again.
�You�ve ruined me.� his voice was raspy, more so than usual.
She pursed her lips, not exactly sure what to think of such a statement. He chuckled again, looking away from her face, focusing on a freckle on her collarbone that he had missed earlier. He ran his thumb along it idly.

�He was right, you know. I�ve never seen myself as a settled man, kind of unimaginable really. I reckon they think I�m tame now.�
�The kinder, gentler Dark Creature? His savage nature soothed by�� she faltered, having caught herself nearly saying something frightening, ��by a sweet young piece of tail?� she gave a half hearted smile.
�I suppose. They�re in for a nasty surprise if they think I�ve gone soft over the years, though,� He looked back up at her, �And you�re safe here. They won�t find you that easily, and if they should, well�I�ll protect you.�
Annette�s insides squirmed uncomfortably. She could never recognize if this feeling was the uneasiness she felt when he came very, very close to meaning something much deeper than his words conveyed, or the frantic butterflies that always held out some small bit of hope that he would say those things to her. It was a very confusing feeling.
�So are you saying you are then?�
�Hmm?� he slipped out of her, sitting upright at the edge of the bed with his legs over the side.
�Are you� you know�a settled man?� she bit her lip pensively.
He yawned widely, scratching his bare chest. There was a very faint scar across it, almost indistinguishable aside from the fact that the texture of skin was different along its length and no hair grew there. When it was new it had been a giant, gaping wound, cut by a wand�s magic. He had many other fatal wounds that night, but that was the worst.

He�d stumbled into the house, covered in blood, most of it his own. He knew he was on the verge of death then, that he, the great Fenrir Greyback, had finally been defeated by some meddling no-name Auror. She had been there then, nearly a year after her first full moon. She�d made it through physically, but she still fought against it with every transformation. She had been in the sitting room that night, catching sight of him as he pulled himself along the walls and smeared blood on everything he touched. The female had dropped her book, a hand covering her mouth in horror. He made to collapse, but she was up in a minute, shouldering his massive weight and guiding him to lay against the sofa. She�d bustled to the kitchen, fetching a rag and some warm water in a bowl before returning. His eyes bore into her as she peeled back his soaked shirt, attempting to clean his wounds. He didn�t think then of how futile of an action it was - he�d surely bleed out before the wound would heal - or how much it hurt to die. She was helping him. She asked what happened to him, but he didn�t answer, his emotionless gaze trained on her face. The bleeding didn�t stop, and she became noticeably upset. She begged, pleaded with him to just let her have her wand back for a moment, that she could heal it. I won�t try anything, I swear! Please, just let me heal you! He�d carried it around with him then, and reached into his coat pocket, holding it out to her. She took it gingerly, perhaps afraid that he would snatch it back from her. The tip touched against the gaping wound on his chest, and the burning rush of healing spread through his abdomen as the wound closed up, leaving only a large angry welt. A few more places were healed, until she looked worn out and he was no longer bleeding.

Yet she didn�t give the wand back. He�d held out his hand expectantly, giving her that same glare, watching her eyes grow unfocused as she stared at the rug under her feet. The wand was gripped tightly in her hand, so tightly her knuckles were white. She uttered no spells, made no move to retaliate against him, but neither did she move to return it. Her body trembled and silent tears began to stream down her cheeks, and finally he grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, forcefully pulling it from her hand. Reddened eyes looked up into his, and she wiped her cheeks with the hem of her sleeve before picking up the bowl and rag again, cleaning the blood away. She�d been true to her word, she�d given up her freedom, just to save his life.
He�d been grateful. But now he owed the little female his life. When she�d gone to sleep that night, he crept into the bedroom with the wand in his hand. Repeating the same spell she�d done, he touched the tip of the wand to the left side of her face, the deep festering wounds finally fleshing over, sloughing off the thick scabs. After that night, he never looked at her the same again. It was the last time he�d thought of her as a child, an object for his own entertainment. It was also the last time he remembered her crying in front of him until tonight.

�As settled as a man can be with a vexing little she-wolf waiting in his bed every night.� he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, looking at her over his shoulder.
She smiled half heartedly again, turning over onto her side with her back facing him. That�s as close as it gets with him I suppose. The cot creaked as his weight left it, headed for the bathroom. Annette lost herself in her thoughts, wondering how many years it had been since she had willingly decided to share his bed, or just how long she�d been playing this cruel game with herself. That frightening word popped into her mind again, and she shook her head vigorously, as if trying to dislodge it. No, that wasn�t the case. Even if it was, how could she? He was at his worst a crude, bloodthirsty savage. Even if that was the case, how could he? Beasts were incapable of� love. Affection, yes. Lust, yes. Adoration, yes. But not love. That was her problem; she humanized him too much. He had enough trouble with the simplest emotions, how could he be capable of such a deeply complex one? He often referred to her as his mate, but she knew there could be more than one meaning to that word. She was the alpha female, and his designated bed partner -not necessarily the human equivalent of a committed relationship. But didn�t wolves mate for life? She rolled her eyes to herself. What a complete woman you are. You�re grasping at straws here.
He returned from the bathroom, pulling back the sheets and tugging them over both bodies as he settled behind her. A heavy arm came to rest across her middle, pulling her tightly against him. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, ashamed of herself for letting her mind wander down that path again. It was what it was, and she wasn�t in any position to ask for any more than that. She didn�t expect him to get down on one knee for her, or do anything else that was just not Fenrir. She wasn�t even sure why she kept thinking those things.
He nuzzled the back of her neck gently, making a contented sound in his throat. The female started drifting, her mind having trouble focusing on her surroundings, she was only half conscious when he spoke against her ear, comforting her earlier tears, �You�re safe. I won�t let anything happen to you.�
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The Way We Are