Nick cringed away from his enraged captain.

His enraged, Creature captain, he hadn't seen that coming.

He could understand the rage though, he was angry too.

Nick Burkhardt had creature blood.

Not by Birth, not even by some weird genetic offshoot, his blood was stolen, murdered for.

He had died, and now he may very well die again for a crime he didn't even know about until now.

It was written in the diary of his mother, though his father's made no mention of it, he had drowned, she'd only left him for a few minutes and he'd drowned, and she couldn't take it, she couldn't let it go, she'd researched and studied.

She'd found hope, a mere rumor, less than that, a vague whisper.

Royal blood.

Royal creature blood to be more precise.

She took it, she pulled my father into it, and my Aunt Marie, pulled them into hunting one of the rarest creatures Grimm's knew about, creatures with only a single family bloodline.

Nick didn't know what member of Renard's family his own had killed, but they had killed someone, and they had drained their blood.

And they had pumped his cold little body so full of it he was barely human anymore.

It had worked, of course it had worked, he wouldn't be standing here trying not to cower away from his Captain if it hadn't.

He didn't doubt Captain Renard would have figured it out sooner or later, eventually he would have smelt it or felt it, or some other Creature way of detecting things.

But the diary, that stupid diary, the one he'd left sitting open on his desk like a fool, if it had been Hank, or Juliette, if she hadn't left, or Wu, he could have lied, said his mother was interested in writing stories, little fantasies, little lies.

But Captain Renard was a creature, A royal one as well, and yes, he was still trying to figure that one out.

There was a flash of movement, and He couldn't help it, His legs collapsed from under him and his eyes dropped shut as clawed, fanged raging death approached, sinking it's teeth into his neck.

Drinking down a couple of mouthful's, before pulling back.

And purring at him.

He wasn't dead, he was being...snuggled.

He was almost fully on his Captain's, His very large, usually calm and in no way affectionate Captain's Lap, being sniffed and licked and nibbled, and snuggled, hard to forget the snuggling.

And the whispers against his neck that should have chilled him, but instead left him feeling safer than ever since he first found out about his Grimmness.

"Mine now."