Her second day in the hospital, she woke slowly, the sound of his heartbeat steady as he slept in the chair next to her bed. She took the time to slowly examine him, really the first chance she'd had. He wore his hair short, almost military short, but she knew it would grow out to a mane like riot of curl. She remembered that from the lab. His hands had claw like fingernails, she'd seen them extended, and covered in blood. His eyes were closed, and she knew she'd have to wait to find out what color they really were, but his rugged features were very pleasant to look at, not a pretty boy by any means. His chin was sharp, with a cleft, and his muttonchops were dark and rough, and she wanted to run her fingertips over them.

He stirred, and those eyes opened, they were steel grey and locked on hers immediately.

"You're awake." He said.

"Have been for a few minutes." She smiled. He just looked at her, making her slightly uncomfortable.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been better." She said, smile fading.

"Are you able to travel? We still need to get to London and talk to Bess about this whole hand fasting thing."

Her stomach dropped. She wasn't exactly sure who he meant when he said Bess, but suddenly all his stories added up and she thought she might have more than an inkling, and she felt her nerves start to jangle.

"London?"

"That's where they keep the Queen, last I heard." He grinned suddenly and she saw his fangs. For some reason that was reassuring and she grinned back.

"Bess, huh?"

"Yep…some little rule about having to have her permission to marry, being a Duke and all." She blushed. That part she'd forgotten, even when he'd told them he owned the hospital.

"Well, yeah I guess…" she prevaricated, glancing at the crude limestone ring on her hand. His was still on his finger as well, and she wondered if he really wanted it there.

"Woman, will you get that shit out of your head. I'm in this, unless you want it ended, you're stuck with me so get fuckin' used to it." He practically shouted the last as he leaned over her in the bed.

"I don't want ta get rid of ya, ya bloomin' yank." She shouted back, and was startled by his laughing breath against her cheek. She'd risen on the bed, looking him straight in the eye, noses brushing. She grabbed his muttonchops with both hands and pulled him in, tasting his lips, really for the first time. She'd been too tired and confused after their first kiss to really savor it, and this time all senses were deeply involved.

He tasted like smoke and the copper tang of blood and a wild free thing never to be tamed. She could smell his scent, really for the first time, not tinged with fear or madness, just pure Victor, earthy and pine, musky as his arousal began to rise against her thigh. The rough texture of the hair against her palms itched, and made her want to rub her hands against it for relief. She could hear his heartbeat accelerate, throbbing in time with the growing bulge and she smiled.

She might not ever measure up to his past, but he was her future and she was grabbing on with both hands and never letting go.

XXXXXXXXXXX

So far in twenty four hours she'd called him Kitten and Yank, this new wife of his needed discipline…until he lost himself in her lips, her mouth, her taste. She wasn't holding anything back, and his claws tangled deep into her blood red hair. She was his, completely; it was in her taste, her scent.

"Darlin' we either need ta get movin' or your real wedding night is goin' ta be in this hospital bed." He growled. He felt the blood rush to her cheeks and chuckled. She pushed him away and reached to remove the hospital gown.

He jumped away, he'd seen her naked only a twice, and neither had been under the best of circumstances, he wanted to wait, give her that mystery for when he finally really claimed her. He heard her heart skip, and mentally kicked himself. He always hated this part, the beginning, the one time he ever felt unsure, unable to find the right words, the right way to ease into things. He kept his back turned, while she dressed behind him.

"Kaitlyn, we're in this together, we have been from the beginning, I couldn't walk away now if I tried." He started. "There ain't ever gonna be another woman for me, so just get used to it."

"Yeah, I think you tried that line on Marion." She quipped behind him. The rustle of cloth had stopped so he turned. She was wearing the jeans and T-shirt he'd picked up before going to her family estate, the ones she'd changed into after the bloodbath.

"Where the hell did the Hellcat come from." He growled, stalking across to the bed, trapping her between him and it.

"I think she's always been here, it just took a Sabretooth to bring her out."

Finis

A/N Okay so no lemons, not even a little lemonade, but somehow, I think this future needs to be left to the imagination.