Fin's Claim

Cold

Finian's POV

A memory of her surfacing.

Light streaming in from the holes in the roof, Victoria on her back with her head resting on a lap looking at the sky pretending the clouds are pictures of animals. She's got an empty bottle of wine by her head; teeth stained in a light purple.

"I'm going to fix this up when I'm the Alpha." Drunken goals of an adult female being slurred out loud. Becca's back against the wall while her fingertips are tracing the bruises on Victoria's cheek. Looking around the room many other wolves have now joined her, a pack within a pack made up of the rejected, the outcast, the omegas. Charlie laying curled up in a ball with his back to everyone. His bottle of whiskey now empty, and sleep claiming him for such a short time before he has to wake up again and face the day.

She lets her mind wander to things that can't possibly come true, a picture of her and I raising pups together, happy, smiling, in love with one another. Her face no longer carrying the color of hate that blooms on skin. Instead, it bears the mark of love I would give her.

The run down cottage stinking of mildew rot, the darker corners growing clusters of white mushrooms from the decaying floorboards. This is her second home the one she loves, the one she can be herself in.

Ruin feels comfortable surrounded by rot.

Is this why Victoria feels so comfortable around you? The demon is asking questions I don't want to answer.

Taking the bottle away, covering her up with a throw blanket, kissing her forehead while tucking the covers underneath her chin. My fingers are brushing along her jawline before pulling my hand away.

Taking a seat on the chair, watching her sleep until the night relaxes its hold, letting in the first soft tints of dawn peek through its tight grip.

Victoria is opening her eyes, looking around before she finds mine.

Rage

Disgust

Contempt

Emotions not directed outward but inward at herself.

Getting off the couch she paces, the fighting continuing from the night before. She smells of stale whiskey and heartache.

It's best to meet her hurricane with stillness, let her rage and carry on until she feels worn out. With her heat coming, hormones must be pounding into her system. I've seen it before with most female wolves approaching their time of need.

She keeps trying to goad me to fight with her, but I refuse to give into what she wants.

Impassive

"I need a driver and a car."

"Why a driver?" Calmly watching a female who's coming undone at the seams, unraveling fabric that's creating chasms in her soul.

"I don't drive. I was never taught." She's making a promise to herself that's the first thing she needs to learn when she gets back home.

"You're taking this to far Victoria. I think you're overreacting. You need to calm down." Trying so hard for my fur not to raise up at this agitated female. It's as if she's going crazy.

"Calm down! I'm leaving." She takes a step as I take my own towards her. I will not be challenged, she's thinking about turning her wolf on me because she doubts her skin side now after Grey taught her about submission.

"You can't beat her wolf. No skin can." The demon is taking a position on my shoulder just in time to watch the show. I can beat that wolf. The demon chuckling shaking his head..."no you can't." His voice sounds as if he knows what he's talking about...."I do, and your skin will not defeat her fur, she will either get your submission or your throat." That pauses me for a moment; I don't submit, ever...then she will kill you, someday. That doesn't ruffle my wolf's fur up, he knows that at least he's more than her, it's my problem to deal with, not his.