Fulfillment 06

Emmett ranges off to her left, brushing against snow laden pine boughs and scaring up a small snowshoe rabbit. He gives chase briefly, but let it go since he'd just fed.

Lyssa has reached the rock ledges and was snuffling in a couple of holes. He watches her disappear into one of the large holes, the end of her tail betraying her presence, before backing out. After some more, running around the edges, she climbs to the top of the ridge.

The top of the sandstone outcropping provides a better view than their cabin's placement on the next ridge. She stands at the top, near the edge, tongue lolling. And she turns, taking in the view.

There were hills or ridges, keeping the views relatively short. Or, perhaps you could call it a plain that had been cut into by streams. However, the sun shone down on the mostly leafless trees and the pines. Also revealed was a trail, either for hikers or horses, looking to come from somewhere on the other side of their cabin. Smoke rises from the chimney. Another column of smoke reveals someone else in the area.

Lyssa feels the warmth of the heated stone beneath her paws and lies down with a grunt. Emmett comes up to lay beside her as she puts her head on her forepaws and looks over the valley.

A sound, 'Whump!', has both on their feet. Emmett looking for the source. Lyssa, stiff legged, hackles up, teeth bared. They had been dozing.

They start to relax when the sound comes again. Lyssa whirls, growling, and they watch snow slide from one of the larger pine boughs, lubricated into movement by the sun.

He nudges her with his head, time to go back to the cabin. She huffs and drops off the top of the ridge. Lyssa ranges off toward the trail before swinging up to the cabin.

Back inside, she shifts and dresses. As he picks up his clothing she says, "It's pretty."

There. It wasn't 'Fine' or a one word answer or something negative. Maybe she needed to let her wolf out more?

She sits at the table, idly running her finger over the surface. He sits opposite her and reaches across the table, taking her hand. "Lys." She stiffens slightly. "Something's wrong. You know it." She looks up at him and he catches a glimpse of fear in her haunted eyes before they turn dark and hard.

She growls down at the surface of the table, scuffed, burned, and stained. "You made me a werewolf. I'm trying to be one."

"You keep trying to make everything into an argument. I don't want to argue with you."

"Then why are we here? We could have done this back at the den."

"No, we couldn't. I had to get you away from the others."

She pulls her hands from his, plants both of them on the table, pushes the chair out with her thighs, and stands. "OK. Now what?"

He exhales. Good question. "I really don't know."

She shakes her head and turns away, "Great."

That was it. Conversation over. He walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her. She continues to stand there, seeming tolerating his embrace. [Lyssa, I love you.]

Quietly, she responds, "Will you still love me if this is what I am, now?"

He has no idea how to answer that question. Just the depth of it stymied him. What she was now? But, he had seen something in her eyes.

"You're my mate, Lys." He squeezes her a little tighter, then releases her.

He turns to the bag he's brought and pulls something out. She turns, watching him. Emmett turns on the TV and the Blu-Ray player and settles a disk in the tray. Pushing it in, the lead-in to the movie starts. "C'mon, let's watch a movie."

She hears the opening music, her favorite movie, her guilty pleasure. Last of the Mohicans.

The opening scene has her twitching, her wolf itching to chase the deer on the screen. She growls lightly and sits, her eyes tracking the deer's movements, the rush of fear. She startles at the shot that kills it.

He watches her, sees her reaction. Her wolf was close to the surface. And he considers her actions of late. Threatened, that was it. Her actions were that of a frightened, frustrated, threatened wolf. Instinctual responses.

OK, so she needed to feel safe. He'd taken her from home, so that didn't help, back to a cabin in the woods, which should be soothing but would remind her of the time they ran from the pack and thought they would be hunted down and killed. Alright, then, what else would help?

What had made her feel safe? Him. It had been him, in wolf form, at her house. So, he drops his pants, pulls off his shirt, and shifts to wolf. He gets up on the couch with her. Lying there, he puts his head in her lap. She absentmindedly scratches his ears.

That night, after dinner, he again reverts to wolf and lies beside her on the bed.

She looks at him, confused, but slides under the covers and curls up beside him.

He wakes briefly when he feels her change, going to wolf beside him. Shortly thereafter, the nightmares begin – paws, ears, muzzle twitching, whimpering, growling.

After a while, she quiets again. And, after watching her briefly, he falls back asleep.

However, in the early hours of the morning, she changes back to human form. He rouses and decides to match her. He shifts to human, yawning and rolling onto his back.

He comes full awake suddenly, teeth at his throat, a wolf straddling his body.

Still. He had to be still. [Lyssa?] No response but growling. He feels the points of her teeth on his neck and struggles not to move. [Lyssa. Dear heart.]

Nothing. No response. She was asleep. And she could easily kill him without recognizing it.

Only one thing he could do.

He quickly brings his hands up and shoves her off him, backwards, off the bed. Her teeth tear his skin and she hits the floor with a yelp as he sits up.

She slides, gets to her feet, and snarls, hackles up. He sees her muscles tense in preparation for a leap and yells, "Lyssa!" as he shifts to wolf to face her.

As she stalks him he decides he needs to end this quickly, before anyone gets really hurt.

So, Emmett lunges, knocking Lyssa down and shifts, grabbing her limbs and holding her still.

She suddenly quiets and he looks at her. He shakes her. "Lyssa. Lys, wake up." Her eyes track to his and she shifts to human form. She looks at him, blinks, and starts to stretch. "Mmm, Em."

They're on the floor, skin to skin, and, for a minute, he sees his loving mate. And he leans down, to kiss her. His lips meet hers and he groans.

Lyssa starts at the sound, looks around, and struggles. "What's going on? Why are we on the floor? Get off."

Saddened, he moves away from her. She sniffs and looks at his neck. "Emmett. Em. What happened to your neck?"

He sits up and takes her hand. He looks up, into her eyes. "You had me by the throat, Lys."

She pulls her hand away. "No. I didn't.. I, I..."

"There's no one else here, Lys. I didn't do it to myself." She's looking at him, as if trying to understand what he means. "Mate, you attacked me. In your sleep. These marks are from your teeth."

"No. I couldn't. I wouldn't." He looks into her dark eyes, waiting. "I, I.. I had you by the throat?"

Solemnly, he nods. "I could have killed you." He makes no response.

She sits, thinking, her eyes far away. He waits a while then quietly says, "Hey, c'mon, you could use some more sleep." He pulls her up and moves her to the bed. She's quiet, introspective. He crawls in beside her and slowly pulls her closer to him. Closer. Closer. And she doesn't protest.

For the first night in a while, he was able to hold his mate in his arms as they slept. She wasn't completely relaxed but he believed it would be better when she drifted off.

It felt good, being wrapped around his mate in the bed. And he was glad that she let him do that. He starts to doze off, feeling better than he had in days, feeling that Lyssa was on the verge of getting better.

Lyssa was stunned and her mind was running around in circles a mile a minute.

Emmett, bloody scratches on his neck. Her nightmares, torn and bloody throats. She had attacked him, in her sleep. She was lucky he wasn't dead or badly injured. She had become a danger to her mate, to the man she loved, to the one who loved her and would do anything for her. He'd done it before, before they were mated, and was doing it again.

After all, he'd dragged her away from the others, away from the pack. And, he could have killed her after knocking her away.

What could she do? If she fell asleep, she could do it again. Oh, but it felt so good to lie here in his arms. It would be so nice, so easy, to fall asleep like this.

No. No. She couldn't. She had to stay awake.

She listens to his breathing, takes in his scent, and listens to him fall asleep behind her.

When she moves, his arms tighten around her. OK, stay awake.

It takes time, but he rolls to his back with a sigh, his arm flopping over his waist, the other arm trapped under her body.

She makes her decision and moves.

He comes half awake when she moves beside him, recognizing by the movement of the mattress and the coolness on the other side that she's left the bed.

However, when he was hit by a short blast of cold air he realizes she's opened the cabin door and gone outside. He sits up abruptly, now coming full awake. [Lyssa?] There was no answer. [Mate. What are you doing?] Still no response. [Lyssa, answer me!] Nothing.