Wrestling 1. Chapter 1

"_Move it, Mack. I could do this when I was your age in half the time."_

_The skies roiled with angry storm clouds, the cold pouring rain beating a relentless tattoo with a sound like near deafening static around the two figures on the obstacle course. Soft earth underfoot was transformed into a thick clay that made it slippery and hard to move. Forced to crawl under logs and mesh Mack struggled through the water and mud under the critical eye of her father. He didn't give a shit that at fourteen he had been almost twice his daughter's size, he was going to drill some discipline into her if it was the last thing he did. When she began to falter he started screaming at her just like his old drill sergeant did all those years a go in basic, the sound of her half stifled sob only driving him on further._

"_You want to cry? Suck it up, Princess, and drag that worthless ass of yours through the fucking mud right now," He snarled, "And god help you if I have to drag you to the other end again. Maybe you'll think twice before skipping class, though if anything got through that thick head of yours it would be a fucking miracle." He crossed his arms and snorted with disdain, "Why the good lord considered it fitting to take your mother but leave me with you I'll never understand."_

_It was a spiel Mack had been subjected to more times than she could care to remember, but it never made it any easier to hear. It was her fault that her mother was dead, Mack had killed her the day she was born. He had no problems reminding her of this fact whenever the mood took him, which was more often than not. He had never once raised a hand to her though, preferring to drag Mack out to this god forsaken place every time he considered she was in need of 'discipline', especially when it rained. She hated this and despised him; sometimes wishing one of them would just drop dead, whether it be him or herself didn't matter. Swallowing the lump in her throat she clawed her way through the mud until she reached the end of the Belly Crawl and forced along to the Easy Balancer._

"_You're fucking useless," He spat as she lost her balance on the slippery log and fell off, "You here me, Mack?"_

"_Mack?"_

"Earth to Mackenzie Evans."

"Huh?"

"There you are."

She turned to find her partner holding out a styrofoam cup of steaming hot coffee in front of him, "You really have to stop with the day dreaming, woman."

Mackenzie took the offered steaming brew and the several sugar packets that followed, dumping all three into the hot liquid before stirring it. "Thanks, Tyrone."

"No problem," He looked at her over the rim of his own drink, noting her face a mix between frustration and something else he couldn't quite place, "You ok?"

"Fine," She lied, "I just hate the rain, you know how it brings out the wet weather heroes. It's also Friday, so they'll probably be drunk too."

"Yeah," He replied with a heavy sigh as watched the water bead and run down the ambulance's windshield, "Maybe we'll get lucky tonight and not have to scrape some speeding idiot off the road with a spatula."

"One can dream I suppose."

Less than a minute later the radio crackled to life, forcing the two paramedics to dump the barely touched coffee out as Tyrone picked up the receiver and Mack started the engine. It was going to be a long night...

* * *

The rain had indeed bought out the speeders and hooligans with the end result of Mack and Tyrone being called to some downright brutal crashes, one including a couple of fatalities. It was well into the early hours of the morning by the time Mackenzie finally got home, mentally drained and physically exhausted. Opening the door she was greeted by the happy whine of a large Czechoslovakian wolfdog. Kneeling down she gave him a scratch behind both ears before moving onto the leg waggling sweet spot near the middle of his back. Satisfied with his attention received he then fell instep just behind his pack leader as she moved around the house.

Peeling off her boots she tossed them in a heap beside the door and unzipped her jacket, dumping it over the back of the couch on her way down the hall as she headed for the bathroom. As the water heated up, slowly filling the small room with billowing steam she stripped, leaving the clothes where they fell then climbed under the hot water. Eventually Mack sank to the bottom of the cubicle; she felt so tired and the spray was so deliciously warm, surely it couldn't hurt to close her eyes for just a moment...

She grumbled a little, not wanting to move when someone shook her shoulder. "Wake up, sweetheart."

"Five more minutes," She replied sleepily, waving off the familiar voice.

"You've been in here half an hour, Mackenzie," Was the answer as the water cut off and she finally cracked open a pale green eye, finding a pair of dark grey ones staring back at her. With a towel in his hands Roman Reigns couldn't help but smile a little, "Come on, you'll feel a lot better when you actually reach the bed."

With a somewhat grouchy noise she held out her hand and he helped Mack to her feet, wrapping her in the large fluffy towel and dried her off. He was obviously right of course, the soft embrace of the mattress was infinitely better than the hard tiles of the shower floor. Seeking out the warm body of firm muscle she nestled up against it and promptly drifted back off to sleep within the fold of thick arms. Now if she could have a few hours dream free she'd be set.

_Blood mixed with the rain as it ran over the road, the distinct smell of gasoline clung in the damp air. Crimson coated her latex gloved hands as Mack put up a losing fight with the Grim Reaper as Tyrone's attention was focused on the passenger they had dragged out of the mangled wreck with some assistance from the responding crew of fire fighters until the second bus showed up._

_Useless._

"_Come on, you drunk fuck-wit," She hissed under her breath, working frantically to stop the haemorrhaging, "Fight it."_

_Worthless._

"_He's gone, Mack." She felt Tyrone's hand on her shoulder but shrugged him off, only for him to crouch down opposite and grip her hands, "There's nothing more you can do." Suddenly his expression went hard and cold, speaking with a voice that wasn't his own warm, deep baritone, "All because you're to inept to do your fucking job."_

"_Fuck you." Her hands clenched tightly, Tyrone and the scene abruptly vanished as she took the swing._

"The hell?!"

Mack's eyes snapped open, finding her fist had shot across and connected with Roman's eye. _Shit, not again_. "I'm sorry."

He bought a hand to where surprise the blow had landed, massaging it to try and work out some of the sting. By now he had half come to expect it on nights like this, though it didn't make it any easier to anticipate receiving a knuckle sandwich while he was asleep. "Don't worry about it."

"Let me see." He didn't argue as she flicked on a bedside lamp, squinting a little at the sudden burst of light. Her hands cupped his face, turning his head until she could see where she had hit him and already could tell it was going to bruise. "God damn it."

How she _hated_ the rain...

He ran a finger down the line of her jaw, trying to distract her from her own mind, "I'll be fine."

Despite his reassurances she couldn't quite look him in the eye, opting to stare blankly at his chest instead. Her head could get so fucked up at times, Mack couldn't understand why he put up with her for as long as he had. She wouldn't blame him if he eventually left, they inevitably always did.

Roman refrained from sighing, he had known the stakes well before he had finally made his move on her twelve months a go. She was a complex puzzle plagued by self doubt and self esteem issues so low you'd have to dig for it at times, but beyond all that he saw something good, something strong. There had to be, considering her career choice and all the sights she had seen while on the job but still hadn't quit. He just needed to search a little deeper until she could finally see it too. In the mean time he would have to deal with the occasional punch to the face at night.

Bringing an arm around the small of her back he shifted until he was propped up on one elbow looking down at her. Brushing the hair from her face he held her chin between thumb and forefinger before Roman leaned in and kissed her softly, refusing to break it until he felt Mackenzie finally begin to relax. "I love you."

She didn't reply and he wasn't expecting her to; he simply said it because it was something she needed to hear. Sinking back down on his side and pulled her towards him until her back was against his chest. Taking her hand in his Roman draped his arm over her stomach, at least this way if she were to swing in her sleep again he'd be ready for it this time.

* * *

A sleek BMW pulled up to the curb, the driver quickly double checking the address before he stepped out. Straightening out his jacket he then grabbed his briefcase and opened the gate, avoiding a small puddle on the pavement as he did so, then headed up the path towards the small cramped house. Knocking on the door he was greeted by the sight of a large Samoan, his long hair tied back in a loose pony tail.

"Good morning," He began pleasantly, pulling a business card out from an inner pocket of his jacket and handed it over, "My name is Brad Maddox, I'm a solicitor with the firm McMahon, Helmsley & Associates. I'm looking for a Miss Mackenzie Evans; is she at home?"

"Depends what this is about," Roman replied, reading the card over before crossing his arms, "You're not here to serve papers or something, are you?"

"No, nothing as unpleasant as that," Brad answered mildly, "It concerns a family matter, actually."

He eyed Maddox a second or two longer before standing aside to let him in. "Mack!" Roman called out, "There's someone here to see you."

A moment later she appeared, Brad doing a double take at the animal following her, "Is that a wolf?"

"Not quite." She was used to the random comments and looks from strangers that Loki attracted, he wasn't exactly a common breed after all. "Is there something I can help you with, Mister...?"

"Maddox," He supplied as he held out his hand so she could shake it, "Brad Maddox. I'm here on behalf of the estate of Gaspard Beaulieu."

They ended up in the kitchen, Mack offering him a seat and a coffee to which he accepted both. When they were all settled Brad opened his briefcase and pulled out a file. "Unfortunately Mister Beaulieu has recently passed away and left behind a sizable amount of assets. Since he never had any children of his own and you are his next of kin, you are now the sole beneficiary of his entire estate."

He passed the folder over the table so she could see the will for herself, Roman leaning over and reading over her shoulder. "This can't be right," Mack finally said, unable to hide the disbelief when she saw how much he was claiming she had just inherited. As far as she knew she didn't have any family any more. "Are you sure you have the right person?"

"Absolutely," Brad replied, taking a sip on the strong brew, "Mister Beaulieu's estate is one of the largest the firm has ever handled. We were very meticulous when it came to tracking you down."

"How am I even related to this Gaspard?"

"He was your mother's grand uncle," the lawyer answered, "The details of the family relationship is all in there." Mackenzie grilled him a while longer, Brad answering each of her queries in turn before she was finally satisfied, though still a little stunned. "While the majority of the assets will still be tied up in some financial and legal hoops for a few weeks until everything can be transferred into your name, I have been authorised to give you these." Delving once more into his case there was a soft metallic jingle as he retrieved a set of keys, some far older than others. "There's a property in Louisiana that's been in the family for generations. It is in a rather isolated location however, but it has had regular maintenance to keep it falling into disrepair."

After she had signed several documents Brad left with promises to keep her up to date on anything that required her attention. Mack closed the door behind him and leaned up against it, trying to let what had just happened sink in. Looking up at Roman he looked just as surprised as she felt, "Did... Did that just actually happen, or is this some really weird dream?"

"That actually happened," He replied.

"What do I do now?"

He thought for a moment, then grinned as he took her in his arms, "You have some much needed vacation time to claim that's long overdue, sweetheart." He held up the keys and shook them a little on the end of his finger, "And I think we just got given the perfect getaway spot."


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken several weeks to organise the much needed time off without leaving anyone in the lurch on short notice before they could finally leave and head into the heart of Cajun country, but what Roman had initially thought would be just the two of them quickly turned into anything but.

In hindsight he should have known it would happen, especially when it came to Mackenzie and one Dean Ambrose. The two had known each other since they had been kids and were as thick as thieves, so of course he would be the first to know of the windfall that she had come into. How they got along so well he still wasn't sure, all he knew is they had seen each other through a lot over the years that had cemented an unbreakable friendship. Mack was quiet and reserved, Dean was loud and brash. She was the voice of reason and hated conflict while he worked on impulsive emotion and had no problems telling people exactly what he thought of them. He was a prolific womaniser and heart breaker, but if a man went near Mack with anything less than honourable intentions Ambrose quickly became the most protective person on the planet. Roman knew that last part well, having become the focus point of it once upon a time.

His own buddy, Seth Rollins, soon found an invite sent his way; Mack considered it unfair if Dean was tagging along but one of his own friends wasn't. So where Seth went his girlfriend was sure to follow, and the idea of spending a few days with her man in a secluded southern style estate house was too good to resist. So with an SUV crammed with five adults, a dog and a lot of luggage they set off, the drive predicted to take around two days. When they were thirty miles out from their destination they came to a small town, one of those blink and you'll miss it type of places.

"Pull over," Dean suddenly called from the back seat as soon as he spotted the large sign that proclaimed 'beer!' in big capital letters.

Roman glanced down at the fuel gauge as he did so, while they wouldn't run into any problems getting there it wouldn't hurt to fill up the tank just in case. Besides it would nice to get out and have a chance to stretch his legs, they'd been driving along for hours. Dean made a beeline for his beer while Roman went about dealing with the gas. Leia and Seth headed into the gas station while Mack took Loki around the side of the building so the animal could relieve himself, have some water and spend a few minutes running around.

When she came back to the car Mack found Dean chatting up a pretty girl with dark brown eyes. He had her hanging onto his every word up until he answered her question of where they were headed. She said something Mackenzie couldn't quite hear before making some excuse and scurrying off like a frightened rabbit.

"Been a long time since I saw you get shut down," Mack teased as she came up behind him, "Is she not into firemen? That has to be a first."

"It was going fine until I mentioned that new house of yours," He replied with a small amount of annoyance, "Said some babble in French then ran off."

Mack simply shrugged before putting Loki back in the car and keyed the ignition so he could sit under the air conditioning. "I do recall saying that you were free to bring a date if you really wanted a piece of ass that badly while we're down here."

He laughed, "I wanted to see what the locals had on offer first, so sue me. Now I'll just have to deal with a case of blue balls for a week."

"Dear god, you're going to become unbearable within two days." She playfully ruffled his hair, "Come on, Romeo, let's see what this place has in the way of snacks."

Dean followed her inside and started picking out what they wanted they made their way to the counter just as Roman was done paying for the petrol. When they were done Mack looked at the small pile he had dumped on top of hers, then up at him. "Are you quite through?"

He grinned, "For the moment. You know I've adopted you as my sugar momma now, so it was inevitable."

Mock disapproval aside she paid for it anyway, handing over the cash to cover the purchases, "What if I gave it all away?"

"I'd have to get you committed, because that's just nuts."

"I might have a little something to say about that," Roman commented mildly.

Dean considered this for a moment before conceding, "Good point. I've seen you tackle people playing football, something I'd rather not experience for myself if I can help it." Taking the bags he started back towards the car when he did a double take, looking at a section of the wall that had been dedicated to various points of the tiny town's history. "Hey, Mack, check it out. She looks almost exactly like you." The colour photo was faded, looking like it was taken in the the late sixties. The subject was a young woman, no older than perhaps seventeen or eighteen, "IsabelleBeaulieu. Wait... Wasn't your mother's name Isabelle?"

"Yeah." She came to stand beside him, not quite believing what she was seeing; the resemblance was uncanny. When it came to anything concerning her mother, her father had been rather... uptight with information, simply out of spite. As a result she knew next to nothing about the woman and had eventually put it out of her mind; there had been no point chasing a ghost. She stared at it a little longer while Dean glanced over her shoulder at Roman before heading outside. She was so absorbed in it that she hadn't noticed the old man that had served them come out from behind the counter and now stood only a couple of feet away, startling her a little when he finally spoke.

"I always wondered what happened to Isabelle when she ran off with that Yankee," He said in a voice that sounded like it had been abused by one too many cigarettes. "She was such a sweet girl."

"She's dead," Mack replied flatly.

"I see. Such a shame." He heard the hint of subconscious resentment but left it well enough alone. "It would explain why you've come all the way down here after the announcement of old Gaspard. I take it you're heading up to the old... family home." She nodded slowly, unable to keep her eyes wandering back to the image of her mother. He reached up and pulled the pin from picture and held it out, encouraging her to take the photo when Mackenzie hesitated, "I don't know where you've come from but I suggest you do yourself and your friends a favour; turn around. You'll find nothing at that accursed place but the terror of the loup garou if you stay. His shadow has stalked your famille for a lifetime."

Her brow crept up sceptically. A Cajun werewolf? Really?

He simply offered a sad, rueful smile then headed back behind the counter. Many people had come through his shop during the decades to see if the myth was real or not and none of them ever came back. He wouldn't waste his breath trying to convince them otherwise, for some people the only way to believe was to see. They would go, they would see and then they would either die by the hands of the beast or take its place. Such is the way it had always been, and such is they way it would stay.

She held the old man's gaze a little longer until Roman took her hand and gently tugged her towards the door. A car full of extras and senior citizens handing out bizarre ominous warnings, this was going _so_ _well_... and they hadn't even gotten there yet. Next time they were going to Hawaii. Alone.

The weird warning was quickly forgotten when they were on the move again, finding themselves passing through an imposing wrought iron gate, its archway towered over the long winding driveway which was long enough in itself. When the SUV pulled to a stop out the front they all once again piled out, taking in the sight of the huge building.

"It's... rather large," Mack stated.

Dean let out a half humoured snort, "That's what she said?" Her response was to simply punch him half heartedly in the arm, "What? Come on, you left that one wide open."

"You're so crass."

The few photos Maddox had left her with really didn't do the place justice. It was massive, thee storeys tall with high arched windows and so long you'd be exhausted running from one end to the other. In all honesty it looked a little out of place in the woods of Louisiana and looking more like it belonged somewhere in old world Europe, but even that did little to detract from the overall impressive visage. Climbing the stairs Mackenzie pulled the keys from her handbag, unlocking and pushing open the large ornate double doors.

Seth let out a low whistle as they took in the grandiose sight of the main foyer, the sound echoing loudly in the large open space. Wide staircases descended from either side and joined up at the middle to lead the way up to the floors above. "We're going to need GPS just to navigate around this place. How are we going to find everything?"

"The old fashioned way," Dean answered with a grin as he headed up the stairs.

The remaining four eventually took his lead as they all went about exploring a good part of the house finding studies, reading rooms, trophy rooms, a huge library, a fancy looking kitchen and of course, bedrooms. There were so many bedrooms that it was ridiculous; just how many people lived here in its heyday? Just as Maddox had said the house was in great shape, considering no-one actually lived in it the place was surprisingly clean and free of dust. Idly Mackenzie wondered just how big of a small army someone would need to keep it that way.

As the afternoon started drawing to a close they eventually started dragging luggage to the rooms they had picked out for themselves, all of them being fairly spread out across the manor. Before long it became unanimous that it was definitely time for dinner, so while that was getting sorted out Dean disappeared only to come back a few minutes later with bottles in hand; the first room he had found being a small bar complete with wine cellar. Soon the atmosphere was filled with the sounds of music, cutlery on plates and several animated conversations. As the night wore on one by one they slowly disappeared into the bedrooms they had claimed during the initial exploration.

A light breeze had picked up, bringing with it a slight chill from the large bayou in the distance. Roman emerged from the adjoining bathroom to find Mackenzie standing outside on the balcony, leaning against the railing while she gazed up at the sky awash with stars and the sliver of a new moon with the only noises breaking the silence that of the night time prowling wildlife. It was so different than back home, all but the strongest starlight blocked out by and endless source of light pollution from traffic, street lights, buildings and the sound of the natural world downed out by a man made symphony.

His arms wrapped around her and inhaled the scent that clung to her freshly cleaned skin, "So, what do you think of the place?"

"Honestly? It's more than a little pretentious and too far out of the way for my liking. I mean seriously, what the hell are we going to do with all this space?"

It was a good question. What exactly do you do with a house this size? Also Mackenzie was a city girl at heart, she liked the idea of convenience and being able to simply blend into the crowd, so he couldn't ever see her wanting to live out here on a permanent basis. "You could always hire it out to Hollywood. A place like this would be great for creepy horror movies."

"I can see it now. 'Curse Of The Louisiana Loup Garou'." She said with a little dramatic flair.

"I don't even know what that is," Roman admitted, "I'm not the one who speaks French."

"It's a werewolf."

He couldn't help the low laughter that rumbled in his chest; _that_ was what the old guy was warning them about? Whatever, all it meant to him was they wouldn't get any unwanted visitors and he was more than happy with that idea. Mack wriggled around in his grip to face him, her hands slipping over his broad bare shoulders and he claimed her with a kiss, his hold becoming tighter when her nails grazed lightly over his skin. His hands moved down and squeezed her ass, pleased at his discovery of a lack of underwear, and was rewarded with a soft moan as her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. His fingers dug into the firm flesh before picking her up and her legs instinctively locked around his waist.

Briefly he thought about just taking her right there on the balcony; having been forced to see her in a skirt that would constantly ride up high on her thighs all day despite how many times she tugged it down had his mind banished to the gutter for the majority of the day. Roman loved tits and ass as much as the next man but what he was a real sucker for was a fantastic set of legs, something which Mackenzie had no matter how much she denied it for a reason he couldn't fathom. He ultimately decided against it however, for now at least. There was a huge bed inside with their names on it and he had every intention of putting his lady through her paces.

"This needs to go. Now," Roman demanded, tugging on the long cotton tank. He held her steady as Mack let go of the grip she had around his neck and shoulders, peeling the top off and tossed it into the room. He tasted her skin while he crossed from the door to the bed, sinking into the soft mattress when he reached it and gently prying Mackenzie off him. He took a second to admire the view in front of him, her pale skin was bright in the low silvery light, even more-so against the contrast of his own darker tone. He licked and nipped his way down her throat while calloused hands ran up her sides and cupped her breasts, squeezing and teasing until she started to writhe underneath him.

Her fingers curled in his hair as her eyes closed, focusing more on the feel of him and the sensations he was creating. His teeth lightly grazed against her skin followed by his tongue lapping at wherever he had just bitten. When she began to run her nails along his back and shoulders he shivered a little before he took her hands in his own and pinned them against the covers. She felt his smirk against her stomach as she let out a protesting whine at being denied the ability to touch him.

"Roman... please..."

God how he loved that pining, pleading tone...

It suddenly became very hard to think straight when one of his hands crept between her legs, eliciting a sharp gasp of anticipation. "I want..."

He slipped a finger inside, slowly followed be another, lazily stroking, circling, teasing; driving her towards the edge but not pushing her over. "What do you want?" His voice was low and hungry, as though he was having a hard time restraining himself. The hand he had freed in favour of toying with her sex wrapped around the back of his neck in a futile attempt to pull him closer, but he was far too strong for her to budge and they both knew it, though it never stopped her from trying. "Tell me."

She was going to go crazy, Mack was positive of it as he held her in some sort of maddening purgatory. "I want you." She finally managed to get out in a ragged, shaky breath.

Nothing could quite stroke a man's ego like a woman telling him straight out that she wanted him. Suddenly his fingers were gone and in their place was something much bigger and a lot harder. He sat up, holding Mack by the hips as it pressed up teasingly against her while she gripped desperately at his shoulders. "Look at me, Mackenzie." It wasn't until pale green locked with dark grey that he finally let her have the control. He watched the mix of lust, love and even a fleeting hint of pain fill her eyes as she slowly took in his length, biting down hard on the urge to simply fuck her senseless like some sex starved animal. God damn his girl was tight.

She could never quite get over the discipline he had; even though she could plainly see he wanted to let loose he never did, not until she was ready for it anyway. After a moment she began to move in a slow, steady rhythm, rolling her hips every time she came back down on him. Roman started to match it, keeping up with her until he could feel her beginning to shake, her soft moans becoming more vocal cries as she surrendered to him. He growled a little as picked up the pace, becoming harder and faster, burying himself completely each time. His breathing became laboured and it tickled her ear, "Come for me, Mack."

She couldn't hold it back any longer and her body tensed when her climax hit, forcing him to come with her as her muscles constricted around him like a vice. Coming down from the blissful high Roman pulled Mack close as he collapsed back onto the covers, her body moulding itself against his. Stretching a little she kissed him languidly, completely spent and utterly content. "I love you."

He smiled through half closed eyes. Mack didn't say those words often, it was almost as if she were scared of them, so he took the moments whenever he could. "I love you too, sweetheart. Now and always."

In the back of her mind she thought she heard a distant howl, unsure if it were real or she was simply imagining things. In any event she was too tired to care and it wasn't long before she had fallen into a peaceful sleep.

Something stirred from its sanctuary of the bayou, the scent of fresh new prey that carried on the wind piquing its interest. Keen, yellow hued lupine eyes set in a large, shaggy head turned to the small darkened silhouette of the manor in the distance and howled. Heavy, grey furred paws sank into the soft damp earth as it obeyed the ancient call to hunt, something that would only be sated by the taste of blood.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a light scratching followed by a low whine, causing Roman to wake up. Loki was at the door, pawing at the wood and tilted his head slightly to the side. He slipped out of bed carefully as to not wake Mack and pulled on some shorts, discovering he was a little hungry anyway so letting the dog out was a good excuse to head down for a midnight snack. The hallway was dark, the only thing that really stood out was Loki's light coloured form as the animal trotted ahead before disappearing around the corner. This place was definitely far too large, it took him a few minutes to finally get to his intended destination that was tucked away at the opposite end near the rear of the house.

Fumbling around for the light switch he cursed softly as he stumbled over the now empty cooler they had bought with them, its contents having been transferred to the old refrigerator once it had gotten cold enough. He squinted a little when he found what he was looking for and warm yellow light flooded the room then opened the fridge, Loki's head suddenly appearing and poking around the corner, looking hopeful at the plate of leftovers. Roman plucked one of the cold burgers from the plate and gave it to the dog before taking the bread and a few other things for himself.

He didn't notice he had lost his company's undivided attention while he messed around making his sandwich until the animal growled lowly, his focus solely on the door that led outside. At first he dismissed it, simply putting it down to the scent of native wildlife that he probably picked up and went back to loading up the bread with cheese, tomato and sliced turkey. When he wouldn't stop Roman nudged him lightly with his knee, "Calm down." When all he got as a response with a slight flick of an ear Roman shook his head and went over the door and opened it, "See? There's nothing there." Instead of settling down Loki went from low growling to aggressive snarling with hackles raised as he looked past the human and into the dark woods beyond. The complete change in his normal behaviour confused Roman, he had never once seen Loki act in such a way before. When he began to cautiously close the door was when everything erupted into violent chaos.

It was big, about eight feet tall haunched over as it was and covered in thick grey fur. Large yellowing teeth were bared and set in a thick muzzle, dripping with thick, ropey drool. Its limbs were unnaturally long, chorded lean muscle rippled under its coat as it stalked in on hind legs, its front ones ending in a parody of hands with elongated fingers and set with wicked claws. Large ears flattened and snarled as Loki attacked before backhanding him across the room, the dog letting out a squealing yelp, then bought its attention to bear on Roman.

Roman's hand wrapped around the closest thing he could grab at, a handle to one of the draws, and flung it as hard as he could at the beast before making a break for the door. If he could put enough distance between himself and... whatever it was, he could get to the Jeep and the pistol he always kept in the glove compartment. It was great in theory but in reality the plan died instantly as the monster easily tossed the large, heavy oak table aside to clear its path and charged.

He tried to get out of the way but it was unbelievably fast and powerful, slamming him into nearby cupboards before it was on him. Fangs pierced the flesh of his left shoulder next to his neck and he bellowed in agony, his right hand scrambling around desperately for something in the displaced cutlery that had scattered all over the floor from the draw. It was distracted for a split second from its attempt to kill him as Loki once again attacked it, his own teeth ripping at the skin of its hind leg as Roman's hand closed around something. With every bit of strength he had left he buried it deep in the side of the monster and it let out an unearthly howl, retreating into the night as suddenly as it came. The opposite door that lead out into the rest of the house burst open and he was barely aware of the horrified expressions of his friends.

"Dean, get the kit out of the car," Mack said while already in motion, instinctive work ethic overriding her shock. Snatching up the tea towel she pressed it up against where Roman had been torn open. There was so much blood, was it all his? Seth appeared next to them and handed her his shirt to cover what the inefficient piece of cotton couldn't. "Go see what's keeping Dean."

Roman watched absently as Seth took off at a run and the pair returned in short order, Ambrose opening up the large first aid kit and passing Mack whatever she asked for. He was feeling exhausted, light-headed and a little cold, something in the back of his mind vaguely telling him these were not good signs. The idea of simply falling head first into the seducing sleep that was beckoning him was hard to resist, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. Ultimately it was a losing battle as he reluctantly slipped into the maw of darkness.

* * *

_He was surrounded by a dense thicket of trees, moonlight overhead reaching the forest floor in dappled patches. He lifted his head and sniffed at the air, picking up on a particular scent out of many that was trailing on the gentle breeze. With a growl he set off, jet black paws moving silent over the soft earth covered in leaf litter and clawed, elongated hands brushing leaves and branches out of his way. The stronger it got the loping gait disappeared as he favoured moving on all fours, the hurried pace bringing him to an edge of a small clearing. A figure stood there, lithe and beautiful. He growled again, low and hungry with anticipation. She was familiar. Submissive._

_**Mine**._

_He emerged from the shadowed ring of trees and she turned, finding his new form an unfamiliar one. He smelled sudden fear and she ran. He gave chase, bounding through the woods with abandon with lupine eyes viewing the world as clear as day and the thrill of the chase singing in his blood. He startled her when he came crashing through the foliage and cut her off, the damp ground had her skidding to a halt and slipped. She scrambled backwards as he stalked closer until the retreat was impeded by the thick trunk of a tree. His muzzle was inches away from her exposed neck as he invaded personal space. He was the leader, the alpha, and thus he was well within his right to claim dominance and his mate._

_Suddenly there was the howl of another far in the distance that caused him to stop. A threat. Rival. It must be dealt with. Slowly he pulled away and stood to his full height on hind legs to answer the challenge and disappeared into the night._

* * *

Roman woke up with a start, confused and disorientated for a few moments as the details of the vivid dream started to slip into vague obscurity. Everything seemed so much sharper than it had been the day before; sights, smells, the sunlight peeking in from behind half drawn curtains, he experienced it all with an indescribable clarity. When he tried to move he found his chest and shoulder bound firmly in gauze and bandages. He was on a bed, Loki sleeping at the end of it on his right side with his foreleg wrapped in a bandage of its own. The memories of his midnight foray came flooding back with frightening clarity. The beast, its fangs, the horrified expression on Mackenzie's face as she desperately fought to stop him from bleeding out onto the kitchen floor. Mack...

_Mack?!_

His head twisted to one side to find she was slumped in a chair asleep, half sprawled out on the mattress beside him with his left hand gripped in hers, while Dean sat in another next to her lightly snoring as his head lolled back against the back of his own seat. A surprising, irrational surge of territorial jealousy spiked as he noticed the other man's hand resting on the paramedic's shoulder. He tried to shake it off, not knowing where it came from or why he had such an abrupt change of attitude. There had never been anything going on between the two and never would, their relationship more akin to that of close siblings. He knew this and yet there was a primal urge lurking there as he picked up a trace of her scent, causing a demand that was beating away in his subconscious.

_Mine_.

Where had _that_ come from? What the hell was happening to him?

With a sleepy murmur Mackenzie woke up, restless movement on the bed stirring her out of an exhausted sleep to find Roman not only awake but clear and alert as he stared at her. It was all kinds of strange, if he had lost any more blood last night he would have died for certain, yet here he was barely looking any worse for wear from the experience. She'd work it out later, relief taking precedence by the simple fact that he was alive and well.

"Morning, stranger. You had me worried."

He closed his eyes briefly as she pushed some stray hair from his face before seizing her wrist and pulling her across his body, causing Mack to make a small surprised noise by the sudden action. Her free hand shot out just above his injured shoulder as to keep her weight off him, only to have his wrap around the back of her neck and pull her flush against him. The kiss was rough and demanding, catching her completely off guard while that one word kept repeating itself over and over in Roman's mind with some semblance of bestial savagery.

_Mine_.

"Christ. I'd say get a room but we're already in one."

Dean's wise ass quip broke the moment, though Mackenzie could have sworn she heard Roman emit a low growl. Not his usual noise but a bona fide, animal like growl. He released his hold all the same, watching her intently as she carefully climbed off of him and then sat up.

"I'm hungry," he finally announced.

Mack turned to Dean, "Go wake up Seth and Leia, We're getting out of here today."

"You sure its ok to move him?" Dean asked before addressing the man himself, "You were one hell of a mess last night."

"I'm fine," Roman insisted, "Just starving. I could eat a horse right now."

"Go, I'll take a look and redress it while you guys get ready."

Ambrose hesitated a moment before pushing open a door left slightly ajar that led to an adjoining room as Mack began unravelling the bandages that encased Roman's shoulder. He simply watched her with an unreadable gaze but she wasn't paying any attention to it.

"The hell..."

Where there had been savagely mauled muscle and sinew before was now a just a set of fresh, angry red scars. Tender, but still the flesh was healed over. What was going on?

"I told you I'm fine," he reiterated quietly.

"But that's... that's not normal." Mackenzie had seen a lot of brutal and gruesome things over the past five years as an EMT, but nothing could explain this.

He was getting irritated that she wasn't letting this go. All he wanted was to get up and have a feed; something like a big, bloody, rare, still out to pasture type piece of steak. He held her head in his hands, looking closely into concerned green eyes, "For the last time, Mack, I feel fine. Stop worrying." Before she could protest otherwise he issued another dominating, searing kiss, leaving her breathless and a little stunned. Taking the opportunity he stood up and padded down the hall, he wanted food and come hell or high water he was going to get some.

As Mack's brain righted itself she wondered what to do. Something was definitely wrong, not just the seemingly miraculous healing his body had done but his attitude had shifted to something more... aggressive? Dominant? She couldn't quite put her finger on it except that it wasn't his usual behaviour. With the tiniest tendril of dread she began to wonder if the myth of the loup garou wasn't quite so make believe after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Mackenzie drove the majority of the way on the return trip as Roman slept like the dead during the day in the passenger seat only to feel restless during the night, like something primal was burning away in his blood. He had a new found dislike for being confined in enclosed spaces, wanting the ability to roam far and wide whenever it pleased him. He knew it wasn't normal but at the same time couldn't entirely control it either. When they pulled over at a roadside diner his appetite was absolutely voracious, eating about three times what he normally would have.

It was late in the afternoon when they got back to the city and did the rounds of dropping their friends off at home. Dean couldn't help but notice the slightly off, rather possessive way Roman all but glared at him when he gave Mack their customary parting hug. He wondered what it was all about, Reigns had never had a problem with it before so it seemed strange that something like that would start now. He tried to put it out of his mind, the man had been through something that had damn near killed him and it was Mack who had pretty much saved his life. He guessed it was only natural to go through a few personality changes afterwards. Ambrose decided to let it slide, at least for now. He couldn't say he wouldn't do something similar under the same circumstances, but he'd be keeping an eye on the weird, guarded attitude Reigns was starting to show around her. She was his family just as he was hers, and he'd be damned if he'd allow Mack to get dragged back into some abusive, manipulative life like the ones they helped each other get out of as they fled Cincinnati when they were barely out of their teens.

When the SUV finally pulled into the garage all Mack wanted to do was have a shower and pass out after spending the day behind the wheel, Roman having been asleep almost the entire time. It was something she couldn't help but worry over, along with the shift in his attitude, ravenous appetite and ridiculous healing his body had done. There was next to nothing marking his shoulder now, it was like the incident never even happened. She wasn't even sure what the details were as he had stalwartly refused to discuss any of it. She hoped it would be something he'd eventually come to terms with and open up about, understanding that everyone dealt with trauma differently and this was probably just Roman going through it his own way.

Vanilla and cinnamon; he could smell the shower gel from the other end of the house even though the bathroom door was closed. It felt extraordinary to have such heightened senses, even if it was a little overwhelming to have such sensory input. The noise was becoming a bit much however, there was so much going on that he could hear. He pinched the bridge of his nose as it was starting to give him a headache.

"How do you put up with it?" he idly asked Loki, who's response was to simply wag his tail.

As the evening rolled in Roman ran into that strange sensation of restlessness again. He wanted to do something, needed to move, not sit here and watch TV like nothing had happened. He looked next to him and studied Mack's sleeping form curled up on the rest of the couch, one arm dangling over the edge and fingers buried into the dog's soft fur around his neck, while he idly drummed fingers against the low armrest. That dominant, near carnal urge reared its head again, barely kept in check by his conscience. She was exhausted, having not had a decent night sleep for the past two days compounded with driving the entire way home. It wouldn't be right to wake her up now simply so he could get his rocks off.

She smelled so good though, it was making him hungry in more ways than one.

_Get a damn grip on yourself_, came the mental reprimand, _you're not a hormonal sixteen year old who'll fuck anything with tits and a pulse_. Roman made up his mind, he had to get out of the house for a while. Maybe a long walk would help get some of it out of his system. Silently he slipped out the door and stalked off into the night.

It was a little quieter than it had been, most of the neighbourhood calling it a night as only a few lights from inside houses peeked through into the darkness. He could catch fragments of conversations of some of the more night owl like neighbours. The young guys across the road calling out sporadic commands while playing an online video game of some description. Further down the road an elderly man was watching a documentary and occasionally yelled at his television. Across the street from him was a newly married couple in the throes of something rather... amorous. It called to that possessive urge to simply turn around and do the exact same thing with Mackenzie. Taste her skin and make her writhe until she begged. To lay claim and dominate his mate.

_Mine_.

A bestial snarl rumbled low in the back of his throat.

Instead he shook himself and picked up the pace, his casual ambling turning into a brisk march, then a mild jog before exploding into a full on sprint. Streets led the way to a large park, almost as if the city had given way to the wilds itself. Huge wooded areas, small lakes and large ponds, huge stretches of open grassy areas all with meandering paths connecting it all. He could smell the damp earth and the small creatures that called the park home, the fading scents of people who had been there during the day and the ones lurking in the shadows still. His eyes could see everything as though it was the middle of the day and not illuminated by struggling moonlight trying to cut through the clouds overhead. The animal inside was clawing frantically in its need to roam and hunt, finally forcing the man into submission and took control.

There was a begging cry followed by malicious laughter and taunts that was carried to him on the night wind. He stalked silently through the old oaks, willows and evergreens, hardened nails scoring the resilient bark as though they were claws. Leaping on top of a large rocky outcrop he surveyed the scene below; three men had another cornered, the fourth on his knees with bound hands held up in a show of surrender.

"Please, man, I can get it all back! The cash, the product, everything!" he begged, "I just need a little more time!"

"Time's up, Danny Boy," the leader of the three sneered as they all closed in on him, "You had your chance for redemption but you blew it. You know what the boss expects now."

Fear and a call for violence as the intended victim continued with futile pleas for mercy hung heavy in the air like a drug, Roman's muscles bunching and tensing as his blood sang in anticipation. The moment was drawing close. An ominous growl hung in the air, causing the criminals to stop in their tracks and look around for the source but the area they had chosen was dark and secluded for a reason, something that now was turning into a double edged sword. While they would be harder to find so too was any threat to their well being. Unwittingly they edged closer and closer to the rocks and the noise sounded again, causing one of them to finally look up.

He didn't even get a chance to scream.

* * *

Mackenzie woke up to find herself in bed lying half on top of a broad, firm chest that was throwing off heat like a radiator and a large arm wrapped loosely around her. She must have been even more tired than she had originally thought if Roman had managed not to wake her up getting her from the couch to the bed. She stretched a little, the action causing Roman's hold to tighten ever so slightly. Lifting her head she found that he wasn't asleep, grey eyes hooded as he watched her.

"Good morning," he said quietly, "Sleep well?"

She simply nodded in answer with a sleepy half smile. He seemed a little more his usual self this morning, there wasn't that restless energy that appeared to have been driving him the past couple of days and she wondered what had changed. Perhaps it was just being once more in familiar surroundings that had finally allowed him to calm down and relax.

"You hungry?" she asked and he nodded.

She went to move only to have his grip tighten even more, refusing to allow Mack to get up. She eyed him quizzically only to find her unspoken question answered with a stare so wickedly wanton that it sent a bolt through her, its energy nestling in her belly with tingling anticipation. It wasn't exactly the sort of hungry she meant but once he shifted Roman sent any coherent thought out of the window with the same sort of possessive, consuming kiss that had branded her with the morning after his attack. With no interruptions this time he pressed his advantage placing soft bites along her neck, feeling the fluttering pulse that was just underneath the skin. His growing sense of satisfaction as she all but melted against him stalled when the ring tone of her phone disrupted the moment.

"Leave it," he said, catching her wrist as she reached for the cell and pinned it to the mattress.

It was hard to argue with him when he seemed to be intent on tasting every inch of exposed skin. The call rang out and his hold around her arm loosened then released altogether, her fingers threading themselves in the thick black mass of his hair. She felt something foreign wrapped within the silky jet mane and was a little confused when she untangled a crunchy dead leaf. How in the world had that gotten there?

Again the phone rang and Roman growled his annoyance. She had different tones for certain people, the one insisting on ruining the mood at the moment telling him it was Ambrose.

"He's just going to keep calling until I answer it, especially this early in the morning."

With a snort of irritation Roman knew she was right. Dean didn't make a habit of calling so early, so whatever the man wanted he considered seemingly important. With obvious irritation he allowed her to answer it, her uncertain glance at his displeasure not going unnoticed.

"This better be good, Dean."

"Turn on the TV," he replied in way of greeting, "Channel five."

There was something in his tone that told her this wasn't something to be joked about, so picking up a nearby remote Mack pushed the power button and the small TV sitting on top of the dresser came to life.

A well dressed reporter was standing a respectable distance from a small area under the shaded protection of a few huge Dawn Redwoods and a couple of smaller deciduous trees that was cordoned off with police tape guarded by several uniformed officers. It would have looked like peaceful and pleasant little area, but that idea was completely destroyed by the large amounts of dark crimson that was washed over the rocks, trees and earth. Several people dressed in dark jackets with the initials CSU printed on the back in large, bright yellow letters looked busy as they tagged and bagged anything that looked remotely like evidence. A body bag was loaded onto a gurney and wheeled into a waiting van to be taken back to the medical examiner. As they were zipping up the last of the victims there was the briefest glimpse of savaged, sallow skin. The deep wounds that had torn open the flesh the work of something very large and extremely powerful.

"You don't think," Dean started, his voice carrying a note of hesitancy, "That whatever tried to do Roman in followed us home, do you?"

That was something she really didn't want to think about. How would it even have gotten here to begin with? The reporter was saying something about an animal attack but it didn't seem plausible, a dog no matter how large wouldn't have been able to do that sort of damage, especially considering three of the four victims were armed and could have easily shot it, and anything like a bear or bob cat was unheard of. It was the middle of the city, not some endless stretch of remote woodland.

Roman stayed quiet as he listened to both sides of the conversation and wondered if it was indeed true that the beast that had attacked him had followed them home. Somehow he doubted it, he didn't know why but there was a gut feeling that he would somehow know, like it would be encroaching on his patch. He began trying to recall what he did last night. He remembered them coming home, Mack falling asleep on the couch and then he went for a walk but events after that was like sand running through his fingers; confused glimpses and primal urges but nothing more. It was frustrating, he didn't like the idea of not being able to remember where he had been or what he had done.

As Mackenzie continued talking to Ambrose, Roman decided to get up and head for the shower since it was clear that the moment had slipped by. He pulled off the shirt he was wearing and opened the lid of the hamper when he noticed the leg of the jeans he had been wearing yesterday sitting on top of the rest of the dirty laundry. It was stained with something but he didn't remember doing anything that would have done it. Pulling the soiled clothing out of the basket the faint smell of blood and dirt wafted to him and he was suddenly hit with full recollection of memories that had only minutes a go been so fleetingly vague.

It was him. He was the one that had killed those people.

Quickly he stuffed the pants back into the hamper and closed the lid, taking the whole thing into the laundry and immediately began the washing machine, dumping as many stain removal products into the load as he could find. He knew he'd have to get rid of them soon but for now this was the best option he had available. After starting the cycle he stared down at his hands; while they were clean and free of any evidence now he couldn't help but imagine the blood that had covered them not so long a go. The strangest and what should have been the most unnerving was he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it at all. He had murdered four people and he just didn't give a damn, at the most he felt as if he had been dealing with threatening trespassers on what some primeval, weird part of his brain considered his territory.

Still, until he could figure out what exactly was going on he had to be careful. Mackenzie was already suspect of his recent behaviour and was far from stupid, if she ever figured out he was now capable of something like this...

No. She would never find out, he'd make damn sure of it.

Whatever the cost.


	5. Chapter 5

"So it turns out," Dean began around a mouthful of food, "That those four guys in the park were part of a local gang."

Mack picked up her glass and sipped at the drink, "How did you find that out?"

"I have a buddy who was one of the uniforms on the scene," he replied, "He recognised one of them from his beat, or at least what was left the guy. From the sounds of it they were about to execute some sap who had been skimming profits and whatever else before something ran through them all." He watched her for a moment as she looked around the alfresco surrounds of the small café that was their usual hangout when they met up for lunch once a week, or whenever work schedules allowed it. She was quieter than usual and slightly distracted, had been since she showed up, "You ok, Mack? You seem a little subdued."

"Just thinking," she answered vaguely before elaborating at his expectant expression, "It's Roman. He seems... different, for lack of a better word."

"Different how?" His brow arched a little, feeling that protective streak he had raise its head.

"Not the different you're thinking of," she assured him after spotting his suspicion, "It's hard to explain."

"Try me," Dean replied, leaning back in his chair and lacing fingers together as his hands rested on his stomach, "You know I don't like it when you hold out on me if it's important."

"I'm not even sure it is important." Pushing around a cherry tomato with her fork Mack tried to put her thoughts in order before giving voice to them, "He seems... aloof, like he's hiding something. I've tried to get it out of him but he refuses to tall me a damn thing. That's not like him at all. At first I thought it was simply because of what happened, that he was trying to find a way to deal with it, but I'm starting to think it's more than that. He's so tired during the day that he sleeps for most of it and when he is awake he's restless, especially at night. I'm not sure but I think he's been sneaking out while I'm asleep."

"You think he's cheating on you?" he asked bluntly. Her initial response at the idea was to stab the small fruit she had been playing with sharply, juice and seeds spurting over the plate from its piercing injury.

"I thought that at first but I don't think so. It's something else, and I have a feeling I'd like the answer even less than that particular outcome." She sighed and rubbed her eyes, "Or maybe it's just all in my head, too much free time on my hands. Maybe I should cut my vacation time short and go back to work."

He snorted in partial disbelief, "You landed a jackpot that will last several lifetimes over and you want to go back to pulling people out of whatever bloody mess they got themselves into?"

"It's not always like that and you know it," she replied, "And besides, just what do you suggest I do?"

He shrugged, "Travel? See the world? Make a bucket list? Open a home for stray animals? Just something that doesn't involve fuel for nightmares. You were always the one with the brains, learn something new; I know I would."

It was the biggest thing that had always frustrated him when it came to her. She was damn smart but thanks to that asshole of a father she hid it, even now when there was no longer any real cause to. Throughout both elementary and high school it had been a balancing act to keep her grades at an average level when Dean knew she was capable of so much more than C's and the occasional B, especially when it came to languages. He sometimes wished he had that sort of natural affinity for picking up a foreign tongue but to him it all looked like a jumbled mess.

Glancing at his watch he took note of the time and after draining the remnants of his drink from the glass signalled the waiter for the cheque. When it arrived she plucked it off the table before he could get it, giving him a warning glance when it looked like he was about to protest and paid it without fuss. Dean slipped on a leather riding jacket and grabbed a helmet from the empty chair that had been at their table as they got up to leave, casually shifting it from one hand to another like it was a ball as they made their way to where his motorbike sat. After giving her a hug he threw his leg over the seat and looked up at her with the slightest hint of concern.

"Promise me you'll think about it at least."

"Alright, if it gets you to stop bitching."

He simply grinned at the good natured complaint, "I bitch because I care."

Slipping his helmet on and tightening the strap under his chin, Dean brought the machine beneath him to life with a rumble, "Catch you around, Mack."

She waved him goodbye as he slapped down the oily coloured reflective visor and pulled out into the lazy flow of traffic, quickly disappearing around the corner when the light turned green, then headed towards her car. She sat there for a few minutes, fingers idly drumming over the top of the steering wheel as she thought. Perhaps Dean was right, it would be nice to not have to see any more mangled bodies when they got the really bad calls. But at the same time it wasn't all gruesome doom and gloom. Sometimes the job wasn't so severe and the people who were coherent enough usually really appreciated the help. Sometimes they'd be on stand by at a game or other sporting event which was always fun, especially when no-one was injured. That last scenario made her smile a little as she shook her head, thinking of a certain football player who feigned an injury solely so he could hit on the paramedic while her partner was off getting a drink, not letting up until said EMT agreed to go on a date.

So just where did her suave, smooth Defensive Tackle go, and who was the man taking his place?

After a trip to the store Mack came home to find Seth coming down the porch steps, offering her a smile and a small wave as she pulled into the driveway.

"Nice to see one of you is up during the daylight hours," he said, "I know he's not the most sociable person after waking up but god damn he is moody today."

"What happened?"

"Nothing serious," he replied, waving it off like no big deal, "Just him being a grumpy ass is all. I'm sure he'll be OK once he gets some coffee in him... I think." Suddenly he dropped the nonchalant, cheery pretence, concern creeping into dark brown eyes for his buddy, "Is he? OK, I mean."

"Physically he's fine. More than fine, even." Mack ran a hand through her hair wishing she could offer Rollins something more, not to mention herself, "We just have to give him time to sort himself out."

"I guess you're right." Seth scuffed his shoe along the poured concrete, "Going to a shrink would be out of the question, huh? I think he'd rather have teeth pulled than do that. Shit, who'd even believe it to begin with anyway?"

It was a rhetorical question, though it hung in the air with an increasing weight as the silence dragged on until Mack decided to be the first to break it.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Leia thought you two might want to come and join us for dinner tonight, it's been a while since we the double date thing," he answered as he helped her get the groceries from the back seat, "I asked Mister Happy and he snapped me an affirmative, though I think it was more to get me on my way than anything else." Mack looked over at him and he shrugged, "Like I said, he's moody."

He followed her inside and deposited the shopping bags onto the kitchen counter before saying his goodbye and left just as Roman emerged from the hall. He could smell the faintest trace of Ambrose around her and that spike of possessive, irrational jealousy hit him yet again. It shouldn't be there, the only other scent she should be carrying was his. With a bit of effort he managed to shake the feeling off, the beast inside largely dormant right now and making him feel inexplicably tired during the day. He absolutely hated it. It felt like he had been at constant war with himself for a week now, slowly wearing him down and he wasn't confident it was a battle he could win against such a primal, domineering force.

His eyes followed Mackenzie as she moved from one end of the small kitchen to the other putting things away and the animal stirred slightly, his hands curling into fists as he pushed it down. She wasn't an object to claim, own and dominate by any means necessary like it longed to do. She was a person, his partner and equal. His eyes squeezed shut as the love of the man and lust of the beast clashed momentarily, Roman managing to come out on top of the internal exchange. For now, at least.

He felt the soft warmth of her fingers against his face, his eyes snapping back open at the contact. Curiosity and a little bit of frustration stared back at him as he attempted to stuff his inner conflict back into a corner. What if she figured out what he was now, despite his best efforts to hide it? Would she leave him? Again the two personalities clashed; the man couldn't bare the thought while the wolf would never allow such an act of insubordination. A cold spike of fear lanced his gut at a stark realisation; it would make him kill her first before ever letting her go, and anything else that got in its way.

The stoic mask slipped for the briefest of moments, horror surfacing in his eyes as the imagination conjured up vivid scenarios before he wrestled it down. He knew she had caught it when the well worn expression of concern appeared again. Her arms slipped around his neck and pulled him to her, his own wrapping around Mack's waist as his head rested between her neck and shoulder. He inhaled deeply the scent of her, her warmth pressed up against his, the softness of her skin, hands stroking his back with a soothing, comforting edge.

"Mack..."

"Hmm?"

He hesitated, unable to find the right words to give voice for the confusion in his own mind. Only one thing stood out in his haunted mind, offering him solace and strength in the emotional storm.

"No matter what happens," he finally murmured against her skin, "I love you."

She could hear the subtle strain of desperation, reinforced as his arms constricted a little more like she would somehow slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. His words confused her; no matter what happens? What could he possibly mean by that? For the countless time she wished he would let her in but had a growing hunch that whatever had changed he just didn't know how any more. Her own embrace tightened around him, trying to offer him whatever reassurance she could. She placed a kiss on the side of his head, her breath warm as it whispered against his ear.

"I love you, too."

* * *

Roman had forced himself to stay awake for hours before finally caving in and falling back asleep late in the afternoon. As a result the animal wasn't as strong as it had been the previous nights, though the cost was both leaving sides of his self exhausted which lead to him being shorter with people and his surroundings than he normally would have been.

He sat brooding over something so minute that the waiter had apparently done to offend him, or perhaps it was just the boy himself and the way he would steal the occasional appreciative glance at Mackenzie when he thought no-one was paying him any attention. As a result there was a somewhat uncomfortable aura that rested over the three other people seated at the table. His attention broken from the predatory glare into the young man's back when she rested her hand on the hard muscle of his thigh under the table.

"Relax, hon," she said quietly, "I know the boy is staring, but that's all he's going to accomplish."

He seemed to be placated a little by the statement, the tense set of his shoulders dissipating somewhat. At least it no longer looked like he was going to get up and spear the oblivious kid through the wall.

"So what do you think of the place?" Leia asked in an attempt to kick-start the conversation that had faltered on and off for the better part of fifteen minutes. Roman really wasn't making it easy in the social department.

Leia was the daughter of a local celebrity chef whose family owned several restaurants across the city, which was how Seth had first met her years a go, having worked up through the ranks until he was now a damn decent chef in his own right. She had not only followed in her mother's footsteps but was now branching out on her own, the establishment in which they waited on dinner her very own. A lot of the menu options were Seth's very own creations and none had ever been disappointed by the selection. It had taken a lot of time and hard work to get it off the ground but it all paid off, The Gilded Rose quickly became one the most popular places in town.

"I like it," Mack replied, "It almost has that nineteen twenties appeal to it, but with a twist somewhere to make it uniquely your own."

Leia smiled a little, she had always had a slight fascination with the high end prohibition era aesthetic. A lot of the larger fixtures were antiques from the time period, giving it that little bit more credit of authentication. Even the staff uniforms were a throwback, looking a little like a theme party could break out easily enough if given half a chance.

"I'm glad, and I can't wait to hear what you think of Seth's new creation."

"Come on, babe. Won't their opinions be a little on the biased side? Friends are supposed to say nice things regardless of the actual truth," he interjected, the rising smirk undoing his attempt at modesty.

As the conversation slowly but surely got on track the tension began to abate, though for the most part Roman merely kept quiet as he kept an ever vigilant eye on his surroundings. When the food arrived Seth got his inevitable praise. As the night wore on Mack could sense the underlying aggression building in Roman again and opted to call it a night before he did something irrationally drastic.

He started to calm again once they reached home, though there was still that restless energy about him that had set upon him each night like a switch had been flicked with no way of turning it off. The hour was late and sleep starting to call, so Mack wasn't fully aware of just how far the switch had gone until she turned around, jumping a little to find him standing mere inches away when she went to take off her heels. He drilled her with the same smouldering gaze that he had the morning after the emerging beast inside took over for a test drive. His hands slipped around her neck, finding the discreet zipper that ran the length of her back and pulled, leaving the dress to pool on the floor while keeping Mackenzie of balance with a series of those brain scattering kisses.

He was distinctly more aggressive than he normally was, like he had been sexually starved for months on end. He backed her up until the back of her knees bumped into the mattress giving her no choice but to crawl backwards over the covers as he kept advancing. Her retreat was halted when he seized her thighs and dragged her back to where he knelt at the foot of the bed. He licked and bit his way up the inside of her thigh until he reached the delicate barrier of silk and lace. The animal made a noise of approval at the scent of its mate's arousal, dragging the material out of the way to probe at the sensitive flesh beyond.

Her brow furrowed at the definitive, and very inhuman like, sounds Roman had just made but had little time do think any more on it when he began to consume her. Gone was any trace of his usual slow build up of how he enjoyed seeing how long he could keep Mack balanced on that precarious edge, replaced by nothing but raw, relentless ferocity. Fingers buried deep inside up to the knuckle, hooking them as he stroked at that particular sweet spot while keeping up his intense assault with teeth and tongue. It was a simple matter to keep her pinned down when she was overtaken by the orgasm that hit hard and fast, causing her body to tense like every muscle had locked up as her back arched like a cat and clawed desperately at the sheets.

Dazed and trembling, Mack was barely aware of his weight shifting until she felt the press of his aching erection grinding against her now overly sensitive sex.

"This is what you do to me," he declared before kissing her again, his tongue dominating hers and sharing the taste he had just feasted on. Nipping a trail down her neck towards her shoulder he bit her collar bone then lapped at the mark he left behind.

She wasn't going to lie, that had actually hurt.

"Not so hard with the teeth," she said, but it seemed as if he was either unwilling or unable to do so. When he did it again she rested her hands on his chest in an effort to try and push him off a little. She would have had an easier time trying to push a bus up a hill, he didn't move an inch. When he repeated the performance on her breast she flinched and tried to get out from under him.

"Stop it, Roman."

The beast was displeased with this sudden display of defiance and gripped her wrists, pinning them down with bruising force and growled threateningly as it towered over its mate.

"Mine."

The single word was barely decipherable in the snarl it was spat out in and caused Mack to still completely. She looked up at his face to find something so intimately familiar but at the same time so completely foreign. The body was still Roman but whatever was behind the wheel was most certainly not. It was feral, animalistic; no trace of human reasoning whatsoever. Cool grey eyes had taken on an amber yellow hue, blotting out the whites until they resembled more that of a canine. Was this what he had meant earlier in the day?

She didn't get a chance to think it over as he suddenly thrust, burying himself completely with one swift movement causing her to buck at the abrupt invasion. There was a reason he had always let her set the pace to begin with, but was afforded no such grace from whatever this doppelganger was. Again she tried to put up a fight but it only served to anger the beast, making it bite her again and again, almost enough to break the skin until she gave up the struggle. She shut her eyes tightly and submitted to it, just willing for this bizarre nightmare scenario to end.

* * *

When Mack next opened her eyes the sun had already risen, the alarm clock on the night-stand proclaiming the time to be a few minutes past seven thirty in the morning. She felt stiff and painfully sore before the reason why came flooding back with a vengeance. She shuddered.

Chancing a peek over her shoulder she found Roman fast asleep and no doubt dead to the world by now, as had been the way of things ever since they had come back. Fighting several different reactions that hit her at once she managed to slip out from under the covers, freezing momentarily when he shifted but did not wake. When she caught sight of her body in the mirror she began to shake again, covering her mouth at the disbelieving noise that threatened to break through. As quickly and quietly as she could Mack changed into fresh clothes, wincing every now and again while she did so.

Easing the bedroom door open she found Loki on the other side, scrambling to his feet as soon as he saw her and whined. The dog knew something was wrong with his mistress but couldn't understand what. Falling in step behind her he wagged his tail at the sight of the car keys as she picked them up along with her wallet and phone. Within minutes he was afforded the front passenger seat as the car pulled out of the driveway and quickly headed down the street.

Dean grumbled into his pillow at the sound of someone knocking on his apartment door. He elected to ignore it, assuming it was probably just some religious lot trying to sell their door to door beliefs and they'd go away once they got the hint no-one was answering. When it did stop he gave a little sigh of contentment, only to be pestered by his phone.

"Hello?" he answered with a voice husky with sleep.

"Please open the door, Dean."

"Mack?"

"Please..."

Like a sudden shot to the system he was up and all but ran to the door, she didn't sound right at all. As soon as he opened it fifty pounds of dog bailed past and into the familiar surroundings, but that was not what had his complete and undivided attention. She was trembling, looking like she was barely holding it together as she stood on the threshold to his small home. That's when he saw the dark bruising marks around her wrists and a surge of anger and concern rose in concert with one another. He had no words to articulate his thoughts, all he could do was reach out for her.

As soon as Mack felt his touch on her shoulder she half rushed, half collapsed into his chest, silent tears soaking into the black cotton of his sleeveless shirt. Wrapping his arms around her he simply let her cry without a word until she was ready to talk, silently promising acts of retribution to come.

* * *

_OK, not quite how I originally planned it on going... but I'm pretty much an on-the-fly kind of writer, so here we are. _

_Let the battle of man versus beast begin!_


	6. Chapter 6

Dean sat at one end of the couch with Mack in his lap and her head resting against his chest, legs stretched out on the sofa while looking utterly exhausted. They had been that way for well over an hour while she had quietly cried herself out, finding comfort in the soothing sensation of his warm hands slowly stroking up and down her back. When he had coaxed her into showing him just why she kept flinching his anger was damn near palpable as he took in the array of savage bites and multitude of bruises. Mack had never been one for the whole pain is pleasure mentality and Roman knew that, so what had possessed the man to make her look like a potential extra in a zombie flick?

While she had yet to say anything he had a fairly good idea what had happened last night, and as much as he longed to march over there and see how Roman would fair against someone roughly his own size now was not the time. So he simply sat there while ignoring the empty gnawing feeling of his stomach pleading for breakfast, waiting patiently for Mack to finally open up and say something.

There was something comforting in listening to the calm heartbeat of another, the steady pulse slowly lulling Mackenzie into a sense of security that she had been bereft of for hours. As the tightly wound coil of anxiety and stress began to unwind she found herself drifting, she felt so tired. Looking up she found a familiar sight whenever she came running to Dean every time she found trouble. His expression was almost completely stoic but his eyes told the story of what he was thinking; they were hard, cold. Nothing good ever came from that look and a part of her was lanced with a sudden jolt of trepidation. She knew just what he was thinking about.

"Dean..."

"Yeah?"

"Please don't go around there, I don't want him hurting you too."

He didn't reply to that, his response was to hold her a little tighter while avoiding any tender spots. How could she show up here like she had and then say that to him?

Her stomach suddenly rumbled, but her answer was to simply try and curl up into herself. As hungry as she was Mack wasn't exactly confident in any ability to actually keep anything down. A couple of moments later Dean's echoed the statement, almost as if in agreement.

"I'm going to get us some breakfast," he said quietly after a minute, "Why don't you get some rest in the meantime? I won't be gone long."

With a bit of reluctance Mack disentangled herself gingerly and fell in step behind Dean. Gesturing towards the mess of unmade covers he gently insisted she get in the bed, only half joking that trying to sleep on the couch in her current state would just be cruel and unusual punishment. It was soft, comfortable and smelled of him, calling to that ingrained sense of security that had cemented itself on a snowy day atop the tenement building they both lived in back in Cincinnati almost twenty years a go. Reaching over he plucked the corner of the blanket and pulled it across before sitting on the edge of the mattress. A third weight climbed up on the bed, tucking itself behind Mackenzie's legs and resting a furry head on her thigh.

"Excuse me, buddy, I don't recall saying you were allowed up here."

Dean looked at Loki who simply stared back, almost as if to say 'try to move me, I dare you'. Instead he decided to let it slide just this once and deal with the inevitable dog hair later. He shifted his attention back, noticing that already it looked like Mack was going to pass out.

"Any requests?" he asked, "Keep in mind that if you say 'surprise me' I'm coming back with a raw potato."

"But then it's not a surprise any more."

"This is true." He scratched at the few days worth of gold blond stubble before offering up a suggestion, "Pancakes?"

She simply nodded, not really caring one way or the other.

"Alright, pancakes it is, then." He stretched, his eyes trailing over the finger shaped bruises around her wrists, "And when I get back we're going to discuss those."

It was a tone that was firm but fair, something you didn't argue with. Satisfied he stood up, pulling out some fresh clothes from a nearby chest of draws and disappeared into the bathroom to change. When he re-emerged she was already asleep, Loki's eyes shifting in his direction but otherwise didn't move. Leaning over he ruffled the animal's ears before heading out the door, grabbing both Mack's keys and something else along the way. It was time to pay a certain someone a visit.

* * *

Something was... decidedly wrong.

Roman's eyes snapped open to find Dean staring down at him coldly, a ball bat casually gripped in his right hand as he slowly tapped the side of his leg with it.

"I fucking warned you," he growled menacingly, "That if you ever so much as laid a finger on Mack and hurt her... you and I would have _serious_ problems."

Confusion clouded his sleep addled mind; what in the hell was Ambrose talking about? He didn't even get time to form a question before the bat swung out, narrowly missing him as he rolled out of the way and off the bed, oblivious to his own nudity. Dean swung again only to miss as Roman dodged with speed and agility a man his size shouldn't be capable of. The beast inside began to stir at not only the immediate threat but also the scent of its mate that Ambrose carried on him.

He went for a third strike, the arc clearing the top of the dresser of various nick knacks and other things to send them flying haphazardly and shatter a mirror. He kept coming, anger fuelled by rising frustration at being unable to connect. He could have easily introduced Roman's head to the bat while he was sleeping but wanted the man to know exactly why he was going to do it before castrating him and dumping what was left in the river. The slugger suddenly stopped dead, caught in Roman's outstretched hand and didn't so much as blink at the force that had been behind it. With a guttural growl he moved inhumanly fast and had Dean pinned against the wall and held him a good foot off the floor before the other man could react.

Surprise and instinct made him let go of the weapon in favour of trying to pry the vice like grip around his throat. This was insane, Dean wasn't a small man by any means but Roman held him there like he weighed nothing more than a child. A token amount of force at best.

"Where... is... she?"

"Go fuck yourself," he choked out. He had no idea why all of a sudden Roman's voice had changed or sounded like he barely had a grip on spoken language, but it was creepy as hell. He saw the same subtle yet distinct change that Mack had, the Samoan's face seemed familiar but different; his features sharper, more feral and wild, and his eyes... weren't they supposed to be grey?

The beast wanted to kill him but was hindered by something it couldn't understand, so all it could do was make its demand again while it fought with the man over this strange restraint.

"Where?"

Dean could feel something sharp pricking the back of his neck, threatening to tear straight through it as the pressure around his throat slowly increased, hindering his ability to breathe and made his effort to get out of that iron grip even more desperate.

"You think I'd ever give Mack up after what you did? Kill me and she'll disappear for good." Something warm and wet tickled it's way down the skin, his own blood he vaguely realised. It was getting harder to think as he felt consciousness begin to slip, but couldn't stop himself from goading... whatever it was Roman was becoming, "Go on, do it. I fucking dare you."

With a snarl Ambrose was suddenly launched clear across the room, his back colliding with the doors of the built in wardrobe and falling to a heap on the floor. Coughing and wheezing as he greedily gulped for air Dean slowly managed to find his feet, using the wall as support to keep himself upright. He cast a wary eye on Reigns who was now on his knees with his back to him, broad shoulders shaking in some sort of effort. What in the hell was going on?

"What did I do?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"_What did I do?_"

There was a sense of desperation and fear in the question. He began to slowly circle his way around the room, trying his best to hide the limp from his impact into the wardrobe, until he faced Roman. He seemed normal now, or at least as normal as this strange situation was allowing.

"You decided to use Mack like a chew toy, she's got brutal looking bite marks all over her. What the _fuck_ were you thinking?"

He hadn't bothered hiding his irate venom, Reigns would have been surprised if he had, but it paled in comparison to the assault of guilt that had just dropped on him. Absently his fingers tore long gouges through the thick carpet as the implication of Dean's statement sank in; the beast had gotten out and had staked its claim. Violently. He shut his eyes tightly against the anguish and shame at his inability to control this thing and what it had now wrought. He was supposed to love and protect his lady, not terrify and hurt her.

"You have to keep her away from me."

"Yes, Mack is really going to come running through the door any second now," Dean retorted, but the rest of the sarcastic comment died when Roman growled again before he flinched, like he was fighting for control of his own faculties. OK, perhaps antagonising the man ripping up carpet like it was wet paper and wasn't even aware he's doing it isn't the smartest of moves.

"You don't get it. Ever since we came back, since that thing bit me... I know it's going to sound crazy, but it's like there's something else trying to get out and I can't keep control. It's turning me into something else; something dangerous." Briefly he thought of the first night the beast had taken his body for a test drive and realised he hadn't even been aware of the mental shift at the time, it had taken control of him so easily, so completely. "And worse."

If Dean hadn't witnessed everything he just had, he more than likely would have thought it all an act and called bullshit on the entire thing. But that... whatever it was, it was too authentic to be faked; people's eyes don't change like that for a start. This had to be the most bizarre day in his entire life. First his best friend shows up looking the worse for wear, then he goes searching for some old testament eye for an eye only to be almost killed in the attempt by her bare ass naked boyfriend turning into... something. The question however, was what?

Roman looked past Ambrose and noticed the frenzied scratches that decorated the bedroom door and had stripped the wood of its white paint, realising that Loki must have been going absolutely berserk trying to get in. Christ, just how badly had he acted to get that sort of result from such friendly animal? Shame piled on even higher, so much so that he thought he was going to drown in it. One of the things Roman had always prided himself on how well he had treated the women in his life, but what the hell was he now?

"I'd _never_ knowingly do anything to hurt Mackenzie. But this thing though, it wants her, and will do anything and go through _anyone_ to keep her." Finally he focused on Ambrose, eyeing him with a sort of pleading sincerity, "Like I said, you have to keep her away from me."

As unbelievably angry as Dean still was, a certain understanding was quickly dawning on him and with it a small but growing tendril of dread. It left him speechless for a moment, which was no small feat from a man who was always ready with some quip or smart arse comment ready to go.

"If this thing is as dangerous as you say it is, you should really give some thought to getting out of the city before you hurt anyone else."

He was right, Roman knew that. He needed somewhere quiet and isolated. But where could he go?

"You'd better leave. Now."

It was all he could say. If Dean stayed here any longer he didn't know how long he could hold onto his sanity and not kill the man. For his part Ambrose got the hint, picking up his bat and wasting no time getting out of there.

No sooner had he heard the the small squeal of rubber on bitumen something exploded inside him. Confusion, anger and a few other things he couldn't quite name. Anything within reach was met with a violent reprisal as he tore through the house like a tempest. Doors were completely ripped of hinges, deep gouge marks and holes littered the walls and furniture completely decimated. By the time the irrational, indescribable rage had finally burnt itself out he was standing in the middle of the living room, shoulders heaving while he breathed deeply as abrupt exhaustion washed over him. He was so tired of fighting himself and this thing inside him; he needed Mack. He needed his mate. Collapsing into the ruined remains of the couch gave some sort of cue to his brain and his eyelids started to droop; he was so very, very tired. He'd take a few minutes then get himself together. So tired. Need rest.

Sleep.

* * *

_Not quite as happy with this as I was with what I had originally had but I managed to get the main premise of it down, so it could be worse._

_This would have been up sooner but I had another oh so wonderful misadventure with Open Office turning the original chapter into hashtags. Second time in about as many months it's done that, so needless to say I wasn't impressed. Does anyone use LibreOffice? If you do is it worth jumping to that instead? I really don't want to go through a third round of these weird hashtag shenanigans. _


End file.
