Snow- darkness- wood smoke-

His hands were on her as she woke.

One warm, dark hand cupped her breast, the other nestled in the juncture between her thighs. Palm heavy and firm against her belly, the long, blunt fingers resting amongst her curls. His breath was coming evenly against her neck, his body welded to hers. Heat surrounding her, making her limbs heavy, the desire to move so far away that she thought she might never feel it again. Hair against her back, her fingers, her skin, tickling. Pleasing. At some point in the night he had tucked her freezing feet between his and now they were blazingly warm, her toe occasionally brushing lazily against the arch of his sole, making him give a little huff of pleasure in his sleep. His lips forming an unconscious, strangely fascinating smile, the harsh lines of his face eased in rest. Without really willing herself to Stray let her hand trail down the arm which rested at her stomach, her fingers coming to halt in the hollows between Logan’s knuckles; As soon as she did it she felt his fingers tighten on her flesh, felt something, something warm and velvety and nestled between her thighs lengthen, thickening in response. Stray gave a tiny, unconscious moan at the sensation, wetness quickening inside her flesh though she did not understand why-

And at that moment she felt his lips brush the back of her neck, at the point where her pulse hummed as throat met shoulder. The feel of his mouth soft and warm against her, the flare of his chest against her shoulder blades so unbelievably right that she didn’t dare stir. She felt more than saw Logan open his eyes, felt his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly against hers-

And then, as suddenly as if they’d done this every morning Stray felt herself pressed flat onto her back, Logan’s massive weight against hers.

“Stray?” he said hesitantly, “Stray, what are you doing here?”

For once in her life, Stray didn’t have a clue what to say.

He pulled back a little when she didn’t answer, though his body was still plastered against hers. Staring down at her- now almost completely human- the look on his face confused, wary. Worried. She gave out an involuntary little sound, somewhere between a purr and a moan at the feeling of being pinned beneath him and his frown deepened; He pulled back and coldness flared where his flesh and hers parted, that feeling of rightness slipping away. Without really thinking Stray shifted her legs, parting them slightly to hook her feet behind his ankles and still him. The contact bringing him closer, that thick, hot thing she’d felt against her back now pushing insistently against her lower hip. Logan made a muffled growling sound as she shifted and this time it was her who looked down in confusion, trying to spy what was poking her-

She saw it and understanding dawned.

Stray may have been raised to be Lord David’s virginal bride but she’d seen enough of life to recognise that.

A long, awkward, deliciously charged beat.

“Good morning,” he said then, his voice scratchy. He was still peering down at her, as if waiting for her to jump up and bite him.

Despite her best intentions, at the thought of biting colour stained her cheeks. “Good morning,” she returned, rather than pursue that thought. “I- I trust you slept well?” She didn’t know what to do with her hands, feeling as if they had a life of their own; Without her really willing them to they stroked lightly down his chest, catching and nestling in the thick, India ink hair she found there. The sensation of it against her fingers delicious, her skin drinking the experience of it after so long encased in gloves. Rather than answering her question Logan gave a moan; He placed both his hands on hers, stilling them. Stray frowned, worry at how differently they seemed to feel about what had happened seeping through her. When she looked into his face she saw embarrassment, doubt. A man in a wolf’s body, unwilling to see the wonder of what he was. “I’m not entirely…back, Stray,” he said quietly. “What you see is not truly me-”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she murmured, gently pulling her hands free and again running her little fingers across the coarse hair. She felt it bristle between thumb and forefinger and he gave a hard, hoarse gasp in response. “I kind of like it,” she whispered.

“You like the fur of a beast?”

She dropped her gaze downwards. “I like it because it’s you,” she said honestly.

“You don’t know what you’re saying-”

“I know precisely what I’m saying.” She gestured to their entwined bodies. “Do you think I would lie with just anyone?”

“I doubt I gave you a choice,” he muttered.

“But you did,” she countered. “Last night- Before you brought me here… You offered me your service and I gave you mine in return.” And she showed him the pendant he’d given her, his cut-iron as Ororo called it. It glimmered in the cave’s dull, never-was-sunshone light. “You were trying to protect me; Do you not remember?” .

He shook his head. “Flashes,” he muttered distractedly. “I see flashes, when I go over. There was… snow. Silver. I was bleeding…” For a second he stiffened his shoulder, rotating it forward. Memory perhaps of his injury making him frown. “There was pain,” he murmured, “Ororo shot me again, I think. I did something bad, something the beast doesn’t want me recalling…”

And then the memory of last night must have come back completely because suddenly his gaze fastened on her arm, where he’d nearly slashed her. Anger then guilt flitting across his face in rapid succession. “I hurt you,” he said. “Didn’t I? When I was injured, I attacked you-”

Stray swallowed nervously, gave a quick nod. He would know if she lied, she was sure. “Aye, but you were nearly entirely transformed,” she said. “You didn’t know what you were doing-”

Instantly he moved, sitting up, pulling her with him. “You don’t make excuses for that thing I become,” he said tightly. “If I hurt you-”

“You didn’t.”

“You don’t need to protect me, Stray.”

“I’m not.”

His voice was harsh. “So you just crawled into a cave with a savage beast of your own volition?”

“Yes.” She saw shock, disgust flare in his eyes and she told herself not to let the pain of it track through her chest. She rushed ahead rather than let him say anything else she might regret. “I couldn’t leave you, not when you’d saved me,” she muttered. “I knew what you were, I think, the first time I saw you. I just didn’t have the words, I didn’t understand-”

“Understand what?” He was breathing harshly now.

“Why I didn’t want you to leave me alone in the snow!” The words came out of her mouth without her really thinking of them; The image of her father’s snow-cold mansion flashed through her head and she pushed it away, joyously, fiercely. She only wanted the here and now. “We’re the same, don’t you understand that?” she said. “When I saw you I- I didn’t want to be saved from you. I wanted you. Last night, every night since I’ve met you- I wanted you…”

And she shook her head in frustration, unable to voice what she truly wanted to say.

How could she speak of the thing inside her, when its form was made of everything-that-was-not-words?

“But you’re young,” Logan was saying softly. “That will change, you’ll stop feeling this way-”

“I won’t abandon my mate,” she snapped. “I will not abandon my Sunlight Lock-”

His eyes narrowed. “You’ve been talking to ’Ro, haven’t you?” He shook his head. “I swear I’m going to kill that woman, silver arrows or no silver arrows-”

“She told me what was needful.”

“She told you a story born out of her guilt fer not saving her husband.”

“And why would she put that guilt onto me?”

He snarled in frustration. “Because she told me I look at you like T’Challa used to look at her!” And he took her face in his hands, trying, it seemed, to shake his meaning into her. Breath straining, becoming more lupine- He wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t entirely back inside his humanity yet. Stray knew she should have been frightened by his temper but she wasn’t. She would rather have him yell at her than another’s words drifting like feathers against her ear. “You don’t know what you’re saying, girl,” he was hissing. “You think me an interesting pet fer a rich man’s daughter, you think me a wonder or a marvel perhaps.” He pushed his hips aggressively into hers, the movement feeling like a taunt, an insult. His grip on her was starting to hurt. “I don’t want a woman who’s only taking me because my fur allows her touch,” he hissed. “I don’t want a woman who looks on her own injury as if it were a game. I don’t want a child dressed up in her mother’s clothing, now matter how much she throws herself at me-”

And with a sudden movement he pushed her from him, making her slide a little through the gravel of the cave, the cold rock shocking her.

She saw regret, horror flicker for a second in his eyes but when they met hers they were steely and flat.

Another, colder beat.

He turned from her then, his massive back hiding whatever his face might have told her. Dipping his head, a low hiss of pain sounding as he forced the last of his wolfishness back beneath his skin. Stray didn’t know whether to touch him or not, whether to try to talk to him. His words had hurt her, but she didn’t believe they were everything he felt. When he had been in his wolf form he had tried to protect her; He had been trying to keep her safe from the moment they met. Surely what she had just witnessed was fear, worry? Surely this was what Ororo had warned her of, and not true dislike? She reached out to touch his back and he snarled, threatening her- But before she could withdraw his hand clasped her wrist and stilled her, though he would not meet her gaze. “I am sorry,” he said, so softly she could barely hear it. “I know you mean no harm but…” H shook his head angrily, frustratedly. Truly this was not a man who enjoyed using words. “I might seem to you like a creature from a hearth-story but I am not,” he said eventually. “I am…dangerous. I am Cursed, Stray-”

“-As am I,” she whispered.

Hazel eyes met hers. “But not enough to deserve a monster like me.”

And with that he reached forward and kissed her, very softly, on her forehead. Taking a deep breath as if it were the last air on earth, maybe even taking her scent. She got a flash of regret, of worry, of something passionate neither of them had a name for-

And then suddenly the blue man who had accompanied Ororo was before her, his face grim. Logan stood in on swift movement, putting himself in front of Stray. The fact that his first instinct was to protect her despite their argument setting something to warming in her chest.

“Gainsborough,” Logan said courteously, “Is there something we can help you with?”

The blue man he nodded, once, worried. Stray noticed he was holding what looked a lot like Logan’s crossbow. “Yes, my friend,” he murmured in that strange accent of his, “Mistress Red sent me to find you.” He looked Logan dead in the eye, his indigo-blue flesh paling. “Her sister Gold has disappeared, and she wants you to help find her.”

Stray may have been imagining it, but it felt as if the temperature in the cavern dropped to ice.