Animal Instincts

Author's note:

Hello again!

Looooong time no see! Sadly I was forced to take a break from writing at the end of last year due to life getting in the way. But I'm back now and have been busy writing like a mad woman in order to get something posted for you all.

Back to the story, I hope you all enjoy reading chapter four as much as I had fun writing it. We'll start to see some branching off from here with regard to the other girls, so don't worry if you don't see them much for a little while. All loose ends will be tied up...eventually.

I'd like to send a HUGE thank you to Wolf_girl13 for doing a fantastic job of editing for me. You really are a lifesaver! Oh and if there are any errors I take them wholly upon myself as I tweaked a little bit after she looked over it.

Don't forget to comment and vote, if you have any questions feel free to contact me - if you leave me an email address I will try my darnedest to answer them all.

On with the story!

Chapter Four

The dark night, and sheets of rain, devoured the surrounding buildings. Standing in the very centre of the rooftop Nyx raised her hands - palms down -- to waist height, closed her eyes and carefully focused on the task before her. Her fingertips tingled with power as she felt her companions beginning the exact same movements on top of similar buildings five miles adjacent to her.

Shaking herself she cleared her head of all thought and began silently weaving the ritual spell; the magic building steadily, churning her gut to the point of nausea. When she could stand the force of it no longer, she allowed it to flow up into her arms, before pushing it down into her palms and imbuing it in the building.

With slacked posture and a heavy pant she reopened her eyes. Although the entire process had taken mere seconds, she felt like she had been standing on the rooftop for a lifetime, the chill of the rain aching deep within her bones. She shrugged herself deeper within the folds of heavy cloak, as another sheet of the torrential rain swept over her.

"Another one down, another seventy five to go." She murmured into the darkness around her. With quick strides she made her way to the edge of the building before stepping off and disappearing into the night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As Skye opened her eyes once more fragmented remnants of restless and broken dreams filling her mind; dusky shadows entwining in an erotic dance against the walls, muffled gasps and grunts the only sounds to break the otherwise endless quiet.

Skye clutched at the bed covers as her insides knotted at the illicit memory of her dreams. Heat flushing her face as she inadvertently blushed, with the realising of just how turned on she felt; her heart pounding as she longed for the sensations which had sent her blood boiling and her heart pounding in her chest.

She squirmed and let out a low gasp as she remembered how her mysterious bed partner had explored her entire body with eager questing fingers, enticing her arousal. The memory of pearled incisors pressed against the curve of her shoulder, the sensation a quick sharpness before warmth and pleasure engulfed her, sending her entire body tingling as if all her nerves had been jolted with a gentle electricity current.

With a contented sigh Skye forced her unresponsive body to crawl to the edge of the bed, where she sat to get her bearings. With her legs dangling down to the floor she glanced around her into the deserted darkness, broken only by the gentle pseudo-starlight many feet above her. Instantly she began to wonder how long she had been asleep this time.

Stretching her body languorously, she enjoyed the comforting feel of her tight muscles flexing and relaxing between the firm mattress and soft sheets. She personally owned nothing more than practical cotton bed linen, but James' sheets were silk and wondrously soft to the touch - Skye had no doubt that they would have been very expensive.

As her eyes adjusted to the inky darkness Skye blinked at the sheer size of the room; to say it was gigantic felt ridiculous, - in any other situation she would no doubt have mistaken it for a ball room or something of the like - if it hadn't been for the bed. Even the bed itself was the largest she had ever laid eyes on. With a startling amount of effort, she forced herself to not gape like a fish.

Under the soft, warm light of the bedside lamp Skye took in the room itself, with its relatively modest furnishings - matching bedside tables, a dresser and a large gilt mirror adorning one wall - somehow it felt like everything in the room had been supersized in order to match the room. Although the only extravagant feature to her eyes was the elegant deep blue ceiling, dotted with what looked like thousands of LED light bulbs.

Skye sat peering at it wondrously for long minutes, listening for any sounds of life outside the room. The chair that had been pulled up to the bed earlier had been moved off to the side and now sat in the corner adjacent to the bed, heavy drapes hung across the wall on the right hand side. Concealing what she presumed were windows. As she turned to her left her eyes fell on what looked like a sitting area.

Slipping from the bed, Skye held the sheet around her nakedness, wondering what her next move should be. After a few moments she glanced around, finding a door she had somehow earlier missed, between her and the inviting sitting area. Stumbling on the sheet as she stepped through the doorway, Skye found herself in what appeared to be a dressing area, her dress hung on a hanger from a hook over a closed door.

"I wonder if James left it for me?" She murmured thankfully, the soft silk was saved from ruin by being thoughtfully hung up.

Quickly dropping the sheet, she slipped her dress over her head and fastened it behind her neck. Grabbing the discarded sheet she began attempting to fold it. The sheer size of it made it a difficult task for a solitary person, so she tried for an almost neat little bundle which she set on the edge of the bed. Glancing around her again with and a parting gulp, she headed for the door and the rest of the house.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This had become the longest week of Rachael Martin's life so far. She again hefted the heavy tomes in her arms, making her way over to the long oak table and setting them down. With a deep shudder she noted that the room had become near unbearably cold. Suppressing the urge to rub warmth into her tired arms, she moved to kneel beside the fireplace to refuel the dying embers.

As the room was swathed once again in soft, warm light and dancing shadows, she glanced around and really took note of her surroundings. The cavernous room was far different from any other she had seen previously in the manor. There were no plush carpets, no comfortable lounges or delicate wooden coffee tables, nor any of the ornamental polished metal lamps that so commonly adorned the spacious rooms far above her head.

Instead, the library housed only heavy, industrial type archive storage racks and the occasional painting of some long dead and forgotten person, housed in specially constructed cases - which kept the menacing hands of time at bay -- along one of the long walls. Oh, and the gaping stone fireplace.

Much to her initial disgust, it appeared that the room was cut off from the rest of the manor in every way possible; including the modern comforts of central heating. Glancing wistfully towards her mug, she remembered that her tea had long gone cold. Leaning over the mounds of leather bound books and journals stacked on the heavy wooden table, Rachael snatched up her mug and headed for the kitchen.

Indra lifted her head from her perch atop a stack of discarded books, her pearly incisors framing her raspy tongue as it curled with a yawn.

You're taking a break?

"Unlike you, I need more sustenance if I am to continue with this thankless task."

Indra prickled with the brusqueness of Rachael's statement, her hooded eyes a glinting blend of amber and gold, her own agitation and unease slipping through their bond.

Just remember, you are not the only one locked away in this dungeon. I can not run without you, and this room is making me claustrophobic.

Rachael sighed heavily, as Indra snapped up her defences. It had been days since she had shifted, allowed Indra her full freedom to run. Her discontent was understandable.

Rachael was the only member of the pack to have a non-wolf beast, and at times she felt the circumstances of her situation far more than she wished. Although much older than the others, she too was the granddaughter of Garrett Wolseley. However that is where the fairytale story ended and the very harsh reality began.

The story as Rachael knew it was that when Garrett was yet a young man himself - not much older than James was now - he had taken a mate, Francis, a woman as vivacious and as full of life as she was beautiful. After being together for years and struggling to conceive, they discovered that Francis was at long last pregnant. The pregnancy was supposed to be a dream come true for the Alpha and his Lupa, but Fate seemed to have other ideas.

Fifteen weeks before her due date, Francis started having contractions. Hours upon hours of agonising labour left her utterly exhausted. It was only after she began haemorrhaging, that her already struggling body finally gave out.

Despite every effort to save her, by Gregory the pack physician and Garrett alike, Francis never recovered. Instead, Garrett was left holding his tiny new born daughter in quivering hands, as the love of his life, bled her life's blood before his very eyes.

Rachael had been told by her foster parents that the grief Garrett held for Francis was so frighteningly strong, that it caused the bond he held with the pack to reverberate like an earthquake with her passing.

It was at that moment; the lowest of his very long life. Garrett handed his tiny struggling child to Gregory, telling him to take the child to his mate, Lucy, who had lost her own baby mere weeks before. Once free of the burden of his infant daughter, he pulled his beautiful Francis into his arms and howled his devastating pain into the night.

Her mother, Garnet, was born so tiny that no one expected her to survive. But she was every bit Garrett's daughter, stubborn, a fighter and strong to the core. Once she was out of the woods, Lucy tried to return Garnet to her father's care. Garrett was lost to his grief, and ignored his beautiful child who so resembled her mother in every way.

Disappointed Lucy and Gregory decided it best to raise the baby and hoped that given time, Garrett would come to his senses and claim his child. As the long years passed the grief dimmed, but the Alpha never did claim his daughter as the pack had hoped. Instead as Garnet grew more and more to resemble her lost mother, Garrett ignored her presence at best, and at the worst of times offered her avoidance or aggression.

Although showered with love and affection by her foster parents, Garnet grew to crave her father's attention. She tried countless methods to win his affections, but each resulting in nothing more than empty falsehoods, staggering loneliness and increasingly erratic mood swings and depression. It was after one of these failed attempts to prove her worthiness to Garrett that she fled into the woods, her roiling emotions driving her further and further away from the source of her agony.

The truth behind the events that followed are clouded at best, at some point the then seventeen year old Garnet had stopped - presumably to try and compose herself, to straighten her thoughts and feelings before she once again returned to the security of her foster parents and the safety of the pack. However in her distress Garnet was distracted and vulnerable; never a good a combination for a young Were who had yet to come into her ability to shift and sufficiently protect herself.

Once she realised how far from home she was she tried to backtrack, that was when she realised she had been tracked, by it was already too late. Despite her best efforts of self-preservation, she was no match for the rogue wildcat. Instead Garnet was brutally beaten into submission before being repeatedly raped to within an inch of her short life. The savagery of the attack left her damaged both physically and psychologically.

Gregory later found her unconscious and bleeding badly. After months of intensive care, Garnet -- having remained unconscious - began to display signs of pregnancy. Tests were carried out, and the sad truth revealed. Several months later Rachael entered the world, during an induced labour.

It was during her recovery that Garnet finally regained consciousness and the true extent of her psychological damaged was discovered. Unable to distinguish pack from foe, she would viciously lash out and attack anyone and everyone who came near her.

With his daughter's increasing display of rogue tendencies, Garrett - with a heavy heart - solely shouldered the burden to destroy his once beautiful daughter; in order to protect her and the pack from her increasingly destructive ways.

It was after the terrible task was done, that Garrett once more asked Gregory and Lucy to raise the newborn child; but the difference this time was that he also took a proactive role in her upbringing. He was determined this time to prevent the cycle of tragedy from playing out a another time.

Winding her way between the stacks, Rachael couldn't help smiling at the memories of her grandparents -- both foster and biological -- celebrating each and every milestone in her long life. And despite the unusualness of having a feline beast, they always loved her, never letting her feel inadequate or unwanted.

Slowly she followed the narrow corridor and slowly began ascending the flowing stairwell.

I'm sorry for snapping Indra, I feel boxed in too.

Her smile widened as a wave of loud purring vibrated through their bond.

As she climbed, Rachael ran her free hand against one of the walls, feeling for the seams between the large granite stones with her dexterous fingers. As she had found on her much earlier decent, there were none to be found, and again she found herself awe-struck at the level of craftsmanship.

At the top she opened the door and swung it in towards herself before striding out into the brightness of the main living area of the manor. Colliding with something, Rachael stumbled back against the door with a loud curse as she dropped her mug, shattered pieces of china scattering in every which direction on the tiled floor.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

Rachael stared bug-eyed at the head of wavy reddish brown hair kneeling before her gathering up the remnants of her mug. Deep within her she felt Indra pacing, her golden and black fur bristling with agitation. Swallowing deeply and taking a few unsteady deep breaths, she forced her racing heart to slow, gently coaxing Indra to calm herself and to not lash out at the woman kneeling before them.

"Skye," Rachael stammered the other woman's name.

Despite her initial shock there was no trace of question, doubt or uncertainty in the single word as it rolled off of her tongue- just a statement of fact. Rachael studied the face of the younger woman as she blinked up at her, the traces of embarrassment and apology clearly etched on the pretty features.

Skye's head whipped up at the sound of her name, uncertainty creeping into the pit of her stomach as she forced her hands to still on the broken shards. Looking up at the other woman, she suddenly felt much, much younger than her twenty-four years dictated.

She swallowed convulsively as she watched Rachael's eyes, the colour bleeding from a bright amber-gold to a more subtle honey-brown. Familiar. She could remember seeing another set of eyes do something very similar, but she couldn't place it. Quickly scrambling to her feet, Skye clutched the broken shards tightly in her trembling fingers.

"Um, I'm sorry I.." Skye all but whispered. She felt awkward and nervous under the older woman's scrutinising gaze. "I didn't see you step out."

"You're cutting your fingers."

"Huh?" Dropping her eyes nervously, she noted the sharp edges marking and cutting into her skin. Clumsily she tried to loosen her grip on the pieces, struggling to make her nervous fingers obey. "Is there somewhere I can put this?"

Skye followed Rachael into the kitchen, and stood to the side as she opened a cabinet to reveal a waste bin. Quickly she stepped forward and dropped the pieces into the bin and stepped back again, instinctively holding her hands behind her.

"Here, wash your hands and I'll go get some band-aids," Rachael leaned over the sink adjusting the tap to a steady flow of cool water before making her way from the room again.

Skye silently berated herself as she tentatively dipped her fingertips under the cool water. She had hoped that by leaving the bedroom she might find James, who she'd decided to apologise to, thank and then ask if she could borrow his phone to call a cab - since her mobile phone had apparently long since run out of battery power.

Instead, she had poked her nose into several rooms in an effort to negotiate her way through the huge house, and eventually collided with his doctor - friend?- broken the delicate china mug that she had been holding and cut her own fingers open. Could her day possibly get any worse?

"I found these in one of the bathrooms," Rachael announced, holding up a box of band-aids and startling her out of her thoughts.

She turned off the tap and turned as Rachael held out a hand towel.

"Let's have a look at those fingers..."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

James watched carefully, allowing his words to sink into the other man's understanding. The first mention of Skye and the other man had noticeably stiffened, as if James had cracked a whip against his bare skin, instead of requesting information about her lineage.

He had spent the first three days with Rachael, searching with through the endless records of his own personal library, before also ransacking the extensive library of his grandfather; only to come up empty handed.

By the end of the fifth day he had begun to notice an uncomfortable twisting knot in the pit of his stomach, and he knew instinctively that time was of the essence and it was fast running out. He was convinced the older man, now crunched down in his leather recliner, had the answers he needed. And by God, Kenneth Adams would give them up - willingly or not!

"Mister Adams, did you not understand what I asked?" James narrowed his green eyes minutely as the man swallowed hard and visibly cringed at the sound of his voice. He was trying to school his features into...something. He was almost certain that Kenneth was attempting to hide the truth from him.

He hated being forced to resort to such tactics, and he respected that Kenneth Adams' instincts had not failed him yet. James had been very casual in his display of dominance, and he could smell the panic washing through the other man. He may indeed appear to be less than a quarter of his actual age, but James could be a very real threat if pushed. It was that fact alone that would no doubt bring Kenneth around to his way of thinking.

"Mister Adams," again the older man swallowed hard. "I believe that your daughter's future may very well rest upon your answer." James smiled his very best professional smile, one that held hints of promise and emptiness at the exact same time. "I do hope that you decide to help me."