The Rare Feral

Chapter 15

(Y/n) slammed the door to her room behind her. She hadn't liked Stryker from before she had even met him; but now she had, the colonel had certainly not changed her mind about him. In fact, her opinion had only gotten worse. The female feral wishing that she and Victor were still in the forest. That they could have stayed there, camped out by the river. That they were next to the fire, watching as the sun sunk to the horizon; Victor's strong arms around her, holding her tight as she lay atop of him, her fingers delicately combing through the hair on his chest. But, as it was, she was here, across the other side of the compound from her mate.

She had to believe him when Victor had told her that this was for the best. That the safest thing to do was let him bring her back, otherwise Stryker would just send more mutants after them with orders to bring them to him, at any cost. She had to believe him, she would believe him, because he was her mate. He was her mate, and she would do anything, go anywhere, just so that she could be with him. This bond the only one that she would ever have. The only either would ever have. So, to lose him now that she had found him, to let him go, was not something that she wanted to contemplate.

Now admittedly, she had never expected any of this. Never expected to find her mate. Less that that mate would be one of the feral brothers that her dad would speak of from time to time when the beer and whiskey made him reminisce.

She had of course asked about having a mate in the past; (Y/n)'s father never saying much about it, if the subject came up. The female feral just presuming that the idea of his daughter being with a man in that sense, was just not something a father wanted to think about. Though that said, he would tell her just as little about her mother when she would ask about her, as a child. Malcolm simply saying that she had been the most beautiful, the most special, the most amazing woman in the world. That she had been his true mate, and there would never be another. The old feral placing his hand on the shirt pocket over his heart whenever his wife was mentioned. (Y/n) only once taken it upon herself to see why that pocket had been so important; the young female feral, when Malcolm had reminisced a little too much, one night, carefully reaching into the pocket to find a picture, an old picture. Her heart beating faster as she had looked at the image, sure that the beautiful woman smiling back at her, with a baby in her arms, must be her mother. This, this the only time that she had laid eyes on her female parent. (Y/n) quickly pushing away the tears that had begun to fall, before placing the picture back in her father's pocket, and deciding to never bring up the subject again. The young feral making herself believe that it would be better to never find her mate, than suffer their loss, like her father had. Yet here she was, and the only thing that she wanted at this moment, was Victor.

Slowly she sat, wrapping her arms across her stomach. The pains were coming again. The heat that felt as though it would burn her up from the inside, getting warmer and warmer; (Y/n) clawing at the dress that covered her form, throwing it across the room as she tore it from her body, before she lay on her back on the bed. Her head shooting up, as the door to her room began to shake, before it flew open.

                                                              >>--------------------------------<<

Victor slammed the door to his room behind him. At this moment, he wanted to rip Stryker's head off. And he most certainly wanted to rip Wade's off; but that really went without saying. Victor knew what the colonel was doing when he had sat the female feral next to him. When he had positioned (Y/n) as far away from Victor, as he possibly could. He knew that the man had been watching him, studying him. Taking note of every move that he had made while they had had to sit there for that stupid dinner, and the last thing that he had wanted to do, was give the colonel anything; but try as he may, he hadn't been able to stop himself from growling, from glaring, from breaking his fork when he had seen le Beau smile at her. Victor having a feeling that there was little point in trying to pretend, anymore. That even if they hadn't said anything, Stryker would have realised that something had happened between he and (Y/n) while they had been in Alaska. 

So, if that was the case, why should he just sit in his room? His mate, a mate that Victor had never thought he would find, was alone on the other side of the compound. Alone when he should have been with her; the big feral throwing open the door to his room and making his way down the corridor, not caring if any of the cameras picked him up. Not caring if one of the colonel's men reported all this to his superior. His only thought, of being able to tear the dress from (Y/n)'s body, so that he could have her again. So that he could feel her nakedness against his. So that he could make her moan and groan loud enough, so that none of the other men in the compound were left with any doubt, as to whom the female feral belonged. Victor breaking out into a sprint as he picked up the scent of his mate; her odour driving him wild. The large feral grabbing hold of, and shaking the door handle, as he finally got to (Y/n)'s rooms. His need and frustration getting the better of him, as he found the ingress would not shift; Victor taking a step back, choosing to use his boot to force open the door. Standing there for a moment as he saw his mate, already naked, spread across her bed. (Y/n) holding out her hand and beckoning him to her, before Victor closed the busted door, pushed a chair under what was left of the handle, and then made his way over to the bed. Promising to make the pain go away, as he quickly removed his own clothes.