Disclaimer: I don't own "Cabin in the Woods" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: This is a Marty x Dana fic. Figured that since I love the movie, I should finally get around to writing something for it. Part IV of the "La petite mort" series.

Warnings: animal traits, werewolves, body horror, sexual content, transformation, friends to lovers, adult language, canon appropriate violence, blood, drama, animal traits and behaviors, romance, angst, mild nod to alpha/beta/omega dynamics, knotting, mentions of pregnancy.

Nothing satisfies me (but you)

"I know why you stayed..."

"What!?"

He woke with a jolt, pushing and pulling at her as she scrambled away. Body stuck in the middle of fight or flight as he barked a surprised note into the quiet. Her smell was female, interested, cautious as he fell off the mattress and onto the floor. Fisting the filthy shag until the carpet creaked – ripping. Puffing dust motes that danced in the afternoon sun streaming through the boarded windows.

Afternoon?

What?

The scent of blood, his blood, lingered on the air. Caught in the creases of her lips. Highlighted when she licked them nervously. She was out of sight, but he could still tell. In fact, he knew by the echo of her pulse exactly where she was in the room. He could hear the hush of her breathing. The buzz of rodents nesting in the walls. The-

How... how did he know that?

He stared, disbelieving, at the carpet in front him. Trying to remember how to breathe. Fighting through a confusing backwash as his mind struggled to make sense of everything at once. Nerve endings sparking like broken electricity as every inch of his body fucking throbbed.

What the hell had happened?

"Dana?"

He wobbled, pushing himself up on his elbows. Muscles trembling. Nose dipping into the dust, choking on a sudden sneeze as his head hung low between his shoulders. Hyper aware of her shifting stance on the other side of the bed. The way she wasn't saying anything. The way he felt like he'd gotten hit by a train when the last thing he remembered was-

Oh god, his head.

He crouched there, wondering if he was going to be sick. One hand balanced on the box-spring, head pounding.

"Alpha," she breathed, making the air on the back of his neck prickle. Frightening himself when his lips pulled back in response. A sound he didn't recognize trying to work its way up his throat as he peeked over the bed and found her watching him. Confused and pleased when she smiled and said it again. "…Alpha."

No, it wasn't a word.

It was a name.

A title.

Something earned.

The skin on his left shoulder tugged. Itching. He swiped at it without looking, freezing when his hand came back sticky and red. He jerked upright, leaning against the bed. Catching sight of himself in the mirror. There was dried blood caked down the crux of his shoulder. Crowning a bite mark that stood out like a florescent bulb, angry and inflamed in the center of a mess of scratches.

She had blooded him.

Changed him.

His chest heaved, panting.

"Dana...what-what did you do?" he whispered, harsh and soft all at once. Like he imagined betrayal would sound if he'd had any experience with it before now. Trembling as his eyes flashed red in the mirror.

No.

Oh god, no.

She made a sound as she pulled her bloody shirt over her head. A bold, chirping purr that made his stomach twist with horrified want as she unhooked her bra, letting it drop to the floor. Her scent thick now.

"I knew you were mine," she answered, like it was an answer. Breasts small, but curved to rosy peaks that made saliva pool in his mouth. Body such a clusterfuck he didn't even realize he was hard - firm and painful against the line of his zipper - until he followed the way her eyes flicked down.

Her scent only got stronger.

Take her.

He wavered. Startling himself when the fingers he'd dug into his palms started to drizzle red, splattering the carpet at his feet. He growled, shaking his head. Trying to shake it away. This wasn't him. He couldn't just let this happen. There had to be a way to fight it.

"You want me...I can smell it," she rasped, forcing his attention back to her. Knowing he was watching as her fingers drifted over the button of her jeans. Once, then twice, then again as a muscle in his thigh counted it out. Twitching spasmodically while his cock throbbed along with it. "I've always been able to smell it."

He shifted, trying to shake away the tension. Trying to adjust the fat of his cock only to hiss when the slightest bit of pressure burst heat through him. Flaming across his cheeks and chest like a blush as he panted through the sudden wave of need.

Mate.

Mate.

Mate.

He wheezed. Making an abortive scrabbling motion at the button of his jeans. Feeling the fabric rip under the force as they suddenly went limp around his waist. Cock so hard he could die, maybe. He didn't know what was possible or impossible anymore. All he knew was that he had to. It wasn't even something he could control anymore. And all the while, she kept smelling like-

He blinked and suddenly she was there, right in front of him. Uncurling his fingers from the ruined material until his jeans pooled around his ankles. So close that the top of her head grazed his chin. Reaching for his boxers, before-

He stiffened, snarling. Showing her his teeth. But she just went up on her tip-toes and licked at his lips and chin. Grazing newly sharp teeth before kissing him in the human way. The barely-there gift of something familiar - something he could cling to - before her pants hit the floor with an audible sigh.

His nostrils flared. She wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He couldn't think. It wasn't like the fog of whatever they'd put in his weed, it was a different. A kind of hyper focus that had sent all his vital and non-vital functions forcibly elsewhere. Ensuring that the only thing he could think – the only thing he could hear, see or scent, was her.

He couldn't-

"Don't fight it...please. Just be with me," she hummed, rubbing against his chest. Spreading her scent.

He was past gone. Past wanting to stop or even considering asking permission for it. He didn't have to. He could smell the rightness of it. The claim that had been made since that moment in the compound with the Ancients crowding below. Restless. Wanting out.

It was terrifying how much he related.

The sound that left him fractured to pieces when he snatched her up. Parting her legs as she keened and clawed his boxers from his hips, drawing red. They fell across the sheets in a tangle, hunting for her as her wet smeared down the inside of her thighs. So ready she was dripping.

He growled, scenting down her breast.

She showed him her teeth.

He'd never felt more alive.

There was no time for anything else when he gritted his teeth and pushed inside. Eyes rolling back at the sudden pressure as she howled, pleased. Claws scraping down his shoulders, encouraging the roughness. Chasing the same animal need he was as she tried to grab him, forcing him to go faster, more.

It was all he could handle as far as self-control went.

He lost himself in her, hips rutting so loud the slap of skin was deafening. Forgetting to make it last. Forgetting to make it good for her or any of the things he might have done before all this. Instead, he was just as much an animal as she was. Even more when the wolf howled a demand and suddenly he was sinking his teeth into the scar on her neck. Renewing it. Making it his. His claim. His mate. His-

He came with a bone-jarring jerk, feeling something - something he didn't understand - swell, then tie inside her. Gluing skin to skin as he collapsed on top of her. Unable to move away. Tugging and painful whenever he tried as the world staggered back the same moment her ankles crossed behind his ass, keeping him there.

"Shhh...don't move," she urged, sated and warm under him. Combing sharp fingers through the sweaty strings of his hair. "Shhh...I have you."

Reality set in then.

The reason he couldn't move was because he'd tied inside her.

Like a fucking wolf.

Pups.

A litter.

Mate.

He shuddered, coming again, tasting her blood on his tongue as she rumbled a satiated sound. Grinding their hips together until he couldn't hold back - helpless against the pleasure - and bucked into her. Chasing the good feelings. The need to have her. To know her. Repeating the cycle until he split her wider. Flooding her with cum until it started to seep from where he was buried in her. Musky and wild with the hint of spring as it cycled in the stale air.

"I know why you stayed."

He staggered away when he was soft enough to slip free. Chest heaving as he looked down at himself, cock wet and soft against his thigh, a bulge still visible at the base. His hands were more like claws as he forgot to breathe. Eyes darting from his reflection to the way she was looking up at him, eyes red. One hand pressed against her core as thick pearls of cum threatened to drip between her fingers and-

What had he done?

What had she done?

"God...Dana. No… oh fuck… No. No. What- what did I do? I don't-"

Yes.

This.

Mate.

He stilled, head cocked.

The voice was rough and new, but familiar.

"Listen to it," Dana urged, like she knew. And maybe she did. It was all there on her face as she watched him, enticing him back as she rubbed her clit slowly, lazy. Hair a messy halo around her head. "The wolf knows. I promise. It's going to be okay now. "

The wolf knew this was right.

The human he'd been - the human he still was - wanted to run.

He wanted to reach underneath the wolf's skin and pull Dana out.

He wanted to drag her away, where she could be safe with him.

But the wolf was stronger.

"You said it was time to give someone else a chance," she murmured, eyes dark and animal as she reached up and slowly brought him down on the mattress beside her. Rubbing her face in the crease between his arm and chest. Encouraging him to hold her as their scents melded pleasantly together. "Marty, I think that's us."

His heart squeezed tight in his chest. Blinking back tears.

"I know why you stayed."

He closed his eyes, exhausted, allowing it when she snuggled beside him. Breasts soft and warm against the line of his back. Covering them with the tangle of sheets as the wolf and the human found a tenuous middle ground. For now.

Because the truth was, he'd known the answer the whole time.

The reason he'd stayed was because he hadn't wanted to be anywhere else.

It took time, but eventually – mostly when Dana's belly started to curve and the few humans they encountered shied away when they understood the human skin they wore was thin - he realized he'd learned to live with it.

Nature had a different name for love, but that didn't mean it wasn't any less powerful.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This series is now complete.

Reference:

- Part of the title is from the song "Oh Death" by Jen Titus.