An Alpha's Claim

Wolf

"Are you ready?" She whispered as her hand rested on the door handle.

Goddess he'd missed her. It was all he could think, all he could feel. How much he'd missed her, her voice, her body, her very presence. He'd barely heard a word she'd said, barely been able to think past the glowing mate bond burning through his chest since the moment he'd bitten her – since the moment he'd heard her claim him back. He couldn't believe he'd come back. Couldn't believe he was back in his human form. His wolf was damaged, so damaged he could barely recognise him, and Logan couldn't help but wonder what he'd put been put through after Logan had faded away.

For a while, Logan could ignore the darkness that lingered in the back of his mind. He could ignore the fear, the pain and the terror so bright and blinding that he'd prayed for death for days on end. He could ignore all of that and just bask in the glow of his mate. Josephine. His Jos'.

He would bury himself in thoughts of her – in her if he got his way. If he examined his psyche too closely, he might see the cracked and frayed edges. The control his wolf still possessed over him and the wounds inflicted deeply by his captives. If he let himself look too closely, he might also notice that his mate was still human, that she was still dying. But he wouldn't do that, wouldn't look at the shadows and hazards in their future – for now he'd let himself drown in her – let himself know nothing but her.

He was thankful to his wolf though, would always be thankful to him – he'd kept them safe, he'd got them back to their mate. He'd even claimed their mate.

Yes, Logan would always owe his wolf a debt...but, there was something wrong with him. Something different. Logan wanted to believe it was just where MSA was affecting him, even if J's presence was holding off the genetic disease he'd been cursed with, she was still dying which meant he would too.

But Logan knew it wasn't that simple. His wolf was more powerful than before, more deadly. He wasn't letting Logan have control.

"I'm ready," he half growled, aware that his wolf danced in his eyes – and unbeknownst to her, controlled his movements. When his hand snapped out and wound tightly around her waist, she looked up at him in surprise, but saw his human eyes and relaxed into him. He wanted to tell her, to warn her that it was his wolf who had done that, his wolf who dug his fingertips into her soft flesh as though he feared someone might drag her away from him. He would have told her all of that – if his wolf would let him talk, but it bound his tongue and plastered a smile on his human face.

His wolf, the creature his captors had called The Black Death; he walked and talked as Logan once had. Held his human eyes. A wolf in man's clothing. He didn't trust Logan to take control. He'd let him back but was not ready to let him lead. Logan tried to fight, tried to push beyond his wolf's control, but he knew, as his wolf did, that he was too weak to win. So, to keep J safe, he would let his wolf keep control. He would let him walk and talk as though it was him.

Possession like he'd never known fired through his veins as his wolf tightened its hold on J. Her scent filled his senses, wrapping him in a bubble of her.

Logan knew in that moment that if anyone ever tried to take J from him again, he would burn this world to the ground to find her. And he wouldn't regret a second of it.

*

The door creaked open, a group of familiar faces watching them closely, their eyes scanning J for obvious sign of injury, not missing the claw mark on her leg, before narrowing on Logan.

Logan's grip on J's waist tightened and he pressed himself against her spine, growling lowly beneath his breath. "It's OK," J whispered, placing her hand over the arm that gripped her waist. She wasn't ready to admit to herself how close to being rogue he still was. Danger rolled off him in waves.