Blood Rites

Logan snarled at her as her rejection slapped him in the face. He felt a rage come over him and wanted to break something, anything. He grabbed Jacque's arm and jerked her forward so that her face was inches from his. The hold he had on her felt like at any moment her bones would snap in half.

"You will take my blood, you will be mine, and there's nothing that pup can do about it." His eyes were glowing dangerously as he snarled at her and although she knew she shouldn't provoke him more, all sense of survival went out the window.

"You may have taken me," her voice was barely a whisper, "but I will never be yours." As if to punctuate her words she snarled back and then spit in the wolf's face. Jacque watched as his canines lengthened, felt his nails turn to claws against her skin. Logan dropped her back to the chair and slapped her so hard she was sure some teeth came loose.

"LOGAN! What the hell is wrong with you?" Jacque heard Cynthia yell.

When Logan turned at the sound of her voice, Cynthia saw Logan's eyes looked wild, his breathing rapid and uncontrolled. Logan was being consumed by madness. She knew that males who lived too long without mates could go insane, but he seemed to be progressing at an incredible speed. In the four days she and Jacque had been with him she had noticed his hunched shoulders, the constant furrowed brow and narrowed eyes as his mood grew darker and darker. The only thing that Cynthia could figure was that maybe the idea of having Jacque wasn't truly doing anything to combat the madness because she wasn't his true mate. The woman he thinks is the one who will fill that dark abyss is rejecting him and the precarious dam that had been held in place by the promise of a mate had broken when Jacque had told him she would never be his. It was then that Cynthia realized that Logan would do whatever it took to have Jacque submit to him, even if it meant beating it into her. She lunged for him, trying to grab the hand that was rearing back to hit Jacque again.

Logan turned at the last minute and his fist connected with Cynthia's face. She felt her jaw break and then the lights went out.

Jacque saw Cynthia hit the floor from the force of Logan's fist. Before she could call out to the doctor, Logan had jerked her up by her hair. Jacque screamed at the sharp pain that burst through her scalp. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt him lean into her neck, taking in a deep breath. She wanted to vomit at the idea of him taking in her scent, her skin crawled at the contact of his against hers.

Logan sat down on the chair and pulled Jacque onto his lap. He continued to grip her by her hair holding her in place. She watched in sick fascination as he brought the forearm of his free hand to his mouth and with the canines that had lengthened bit down. The bite was so deep that his blood ran freely from the wound. Logan turned and looked at her, the blood on his mouth dripped down his chin as he spoke. "You shouldn't have pushed me, Jacque. It could have been special, it could have been good, but you pushed, so now we do it the hard way." As soon as Jacque realized his intent, the pain was forgotten and her sole focus was on doing whatever it took to get out of Logan's grasp. She kicked, she clawed his arms and face, but he was too strong.

Jacque closed her eyes as she continued to struggle, she gagged as soon as the felt his arm against her mouth, the smell of iron hitting her nose just as she felt a warm, sticky substance touch her lips. She struggled harder, but Logan had moved the hand that had been holding her hair to her forehead to hold her head in place. He pushed his arm harder against her mouth and then she felt him clamp her nose shut. She tried so hard to hold her breath, determined to die from lack of oxygen before she would swallow his blood, but her body betrayed her. Almost as if against her will her mouth relaxed and she gasped for air. Logan took the opportunity to push his arm farther into her mouth. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't stop the blood she felt flowing from his arm down her throat.

Jacque's eyes jerked open when she felt the pressure from her mouth recede as Logan pulled his arm away. The look in his eyes was feral, dangerous. He continued to hold her head in place as he replaced his mouth where his arm had been. Jacque tried to squeeze her lips closed against the slot of his mouth and when that didn't work she bit him as hard as she could. Logan jerked back, but instead of the snarl she expected his lips were curled up into what was an unnatural smile. "If I had known all it would take to get you to bite me was a kiss, I could have saved myself a lot of trouble, Jacque."

His voice was deceptively calm, but Jacque could see the storm that lay just beneath the surface. He started to pull her up and she closed her eyes, thinking that maybe now he would leave. Her mind ached from fighting to keep Fane from hearing her, her body hurt from its own abuse as well as Logan's.

Logan must have sensed the small amount of relief that came over Jacque as he shifted her back to the chair because he leaned down next to her ear and whispered, "Your turn," as he ripped the neck of her shirt. Jacque instinctively turned away, attempting to hide herself, but realized her mistake too late when she heard Logan howl and his claws raked across her back, across her mate's markings. Jacque screamed as her flesh tore, she felt the warmth of her blood running across her skin. She felt Logan lean down over her and run his tongue across her. And as she felt his teeth pierce her skin, her lips screamed for the one who would save her, but couldn't.

"FANE!" She screamed as she clawed at the chair, trying to get out from underneath Logan, away from him, away from his mouth. "STOP! Please stop," she sobbed and in between her sobs she could hear him sucking greedily at her flesh and the sound made her so sick that she vomited all over the floor. The smell from her sickness must have pushed through the lust that had permeated Logan's mind as he finally pulled back. She felt his weight leave her body and heard the sound of his steps getting further away. She looked up at him as he opened the door to the room that had become her own personal hell. Through the tears in her eyes, she saw the blood smeared all over the front of his shirt, and on his lips, her blood. Logan looked back at her, "You may have his marks on you, but it's my blood that is in you." Jacque pressed her face into the cushion of the chair as she heard the door close, and as the lock clicked in place she felt something inside her break.

Her body shook uncontrollably as the tears poured from her eyes. She could feel Fane pushing in her mind, trying to get through, but she kept the walls in place. How could she face him when another's blood was in her, when another's teeth had pierced her skin? She could feel her stomach clenching, preparing to expel the poison Logan had made her swallow, but nothing would come up. No matter how hard she heaved, nothing would leave her body. She cried until she thought she couldn't possibly have any tears left. She was wrong.