When Yoongi awakens, his tongue feels as heavy as lead. Feverish and trembling, he tries to sit up, only to be hit with a wave of lust so intense that it is almost nauseating.

"Shit, " he curses inwardly.

Already, he can feel the beginning of that breeding frenzy induced fog curling around the edges of his mind. He won't be in control of his faculties for very much longer.

The sudden need for water leaves the panther hybrid reeling, though his best attempts to stand are thwarted again and again. His shaky limbs don't seem to want to do what he wants them to, and so instead, he settles into the blanket atop his shivering form and tries to breathe deeply.

In and out, inhale and exhale; Yoongi attempts to maintain what little sanity he seemingly has left.

"This is neither the time nor place for this, " he groans inwardly.

But a little voice in the back of his mind disagrees. This is good, it tells him. Great, even. Lailah is here, and the mystifying female is the first to call to his libido like this. This voice tells him that this is an opportunity. Yoongi wants her; it's as simple as that. And this voice in the back of his mind tells him that he can most certainly have her.

He bites down, teeth nearly grinding against each other as he grimaces. The ears atop his head lay flat; the furry appendages have caught the sound of someone at the door. Yoongi is at least sane enough to feel mortified at the idea of anyone coming in here; he'll be damned if anyone sees him like this. He struggles valiantly and finally manages to pick himself up and off the bed, though he does have to maintain a grip upon the furniture around him just to stay upright.

But then the door opens, and her scent comes wafting in. He is immediately hard, and his discomfort fades away. In that split second between the moment in which Lailah opens the door and the moment in which she spots him, leaning against the cot he'd only just been resting upon, there is something so mysteriously comforting about her scent. It fills his lungs, and wraps him in it's inviting warmth. It is teasing, taunting, and it gets inside of his head. It clouds his senses, and fuels the beastly side of him.

Somehow, that same scent is suddenly anything but comforting.

The animal in him is stirring at the scent; as more blood rushes straight to his cock Yoongi groans. He didn't think he could get any harder, and yet here he is, pants so tight that it almost hurts. It occurs to Yoongi that perhaps she is the one to blame for all this. His heat cycle shouldn't have been anywhere close to approaching, but that scent of hers drives him crazy.

"Yoongi!" She gasps, concern plastered upon her face as she rushes to his side. "You shouldn't be walking around! You need rest-"

"I need to fuck, " Yoongi snaps, "so unless you're offering then get the fuck out."

He hadn't meant to be so cruel, but Yoongi is too far past caring what anyone else thinks of him. He snaps easily; it isn't as if she shouldn't be used to it by now. There were other words he'd wanted to say, or at least, that little voice in the back of his head tells him that he should say them. Perhaps want has little to do with it; maybe that's why he finds it so annoying.

It feels as if there is someone else inside of him, someone that yearns for Lailah's company in a way that honestly scares him. And that makes him want to scowl at her, scare her away; anything to keep her as far away from him as possible. That's not exactly an option lately, however, and more than ever he feels himself drawn to that delightful and mouth watering scent.

A sudden image of his lips, pressed with adoration against Lailah's labia flashes before his mind's eye. Gloriously naked in his sudden imagining, she writhes and mewls for him like a she-cat in heat. He can almost taste her on his tongue as he imagines what it would feel like to shove his tongue into her cunt; would she scream for him, or would she whimper and whine?

"Fuck, " Yoongi curses to himself.

With his shaky legs there's no way he can escape her and his frustration begins to mount. He turns around, hoping to maintain some form of dignity as Lailah sees herself out. Except, the room remains deathly silent. He'd hear it, if she'd opened the door. Hell, if it's her, he thinks he might even be able to hear her whisper from a mile away; so intuned is he with her very presence.

"I could see if one of the female hybrids are willing to help you..." she suggests quietly. "I think there are at least a couple who are due to go through their own heat soon..."

It pains her to suggest it. The last thing she wants is to know that Yoongi is sleeping with someone else; the very thought of it nearly breaks what little is left of her heart. Even so, the thought of Yoongi in pain is somehow so much worse; she can't stand by and do nothing. And yet, at the same time, she doesn't think she can be the one to help directly.

The truth is that if she "helps" him now, when she knows that he has nothing but disdain for her, she will hurt herself so grievously that there might never be any bouncing back for her. All these years, she's loved him so fiercely...

It would kill her inside to have his body, only to know that she will never have his heart.

"Too good to fuck a hybrid?" He sneers, back tense and shoulders rigid. "Don't want to sully yourself with my dick?"

He scoffs, a harsh, angry sound as he turns around. There is an angry scowl upon his lips, and his eyes burn with something so raw and primal that Lailah feels like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

"I should have known, " he continues, "you're just like every other human, aren't you? You make yourself seem like such a good person, but that's why you're the worst."

Lailah's eyes glisten with punished tears; his words are harsh and cruel, but she shouldn't be surprised.

Her tears smell so wrong; why? Yoongi doesn't know. But he doesn't like the way the salty scent of her tears creeps in, and takes over her natural scent. It's a war on all fronts, and the panther hybrid feels astronomically overwhelmed. He wants to push her away, wants to be left alone. And yet, ignoring the levels of pure physical attraction that he feels for her, something within him wants her on a deeper level. It's such a strange and mixed feeling. She frightens him. But inexplicably, he also is drawn to her on a deeper level. An emotional level.

He doesn't like it. So why does he want more of it?

Lailah turns around, showing him her back just as he is about to open his mouth and presumably shove his foot right back in it. It is clear from her posture that his words have cut her deep; he can't fathom why she cares so much. Furthermore, why does he care?

She takes a single step, and all the air rushes from Yoongi's lungs in one fell whoosh. His legs wobble, and his knees nearly buckle beneath him. Still, his first reaction is insticually to reach for Lailah.

He doesn't give himself time to think about it; he doesn't want her to think about it too deeply either. Yoongi wants to know if she feels what he feels, if she's as dangerously drawn to him as he is to her. The fur upon his tail stands on end, and the appendage becomes deathly still as Yoongi wraps his fingers around her arm and pulls her back.

She collides with his chest hard enough to make his knees knock upon impact, and yet, he refuses to let her go. Lailah struggles a bit, this is true. But Yoongi can hear the tell-tale racing of her heart with his sensitive ears; surprisingly, his nose is also picking up cues. Cues that tell him the woman he desires, desires him in return.

He wants to pick it apart, and find out why.

Why does she want him?

Does he dare to find out?

His body reacts instinctually to her warmth, one set of fingertips already tracing silently reverent lines against her waist. The other, whispers a path across the exposed flesh of her neck before then digging in. He relishes in the little gasp that slips past her pink lips.

"Why me?" He half croaks, half whispers into the shell of Lailah's ear. "You only react to me like this. You want me. But why?"

His grasp on her throat is not tight enough to cut off her air supply, but his words are enough to leave her breathless. A thousand different things fly through her mind, and hundreds of different scenarios. She'd dreamed of the day they would meet again, but now?

He doesn't even know what they are to each other.

He doesn't remember any of the things he'd vowed to her, and he has become so entirely consumed with distrust and hatred for humanity. She can see it in his eyes every time he looks at her; to him, she is just another human.

Letting him go isn't supposed to be an option; there is one thing she'd failed to tell even Seokjin. One thing that she can never reveal, that still hurts like a gaping hole in her chest whenever she even so much as thinks about it. He told her it was forever, all those years ago. But she'd known that forever would end the moment the two of them had tumbled down the hill just outside of Barberry Grove.

To have him so close now, and yet so far, is the purest form of torture.

"You're imagining things, " she lies. "Please let me go."

"Liar!" Yoongi snarls. "Don't lie to me! You want this!"

His grip on her waist becomes rough, and he grinds his clothed hardness against the curve of her ass like a man possessed.

"I want it too, " he confesses bitterly. "I want to bury my cock so deeply into your cunt that you beg for mercy. I want to make you scream, want to drench you in my cum."

Yoongi's grip on Lailah's waist loosens; his fingers fall away and disappear from her line of sight. He still has a hand against her throat, after all, so she can't look down.

Anxiety churns within her as the anticipation builds. Is he going to let her go?

Will she regret it if he does?

Immediately, she chastises herself for that particular line of thought. She really should leave, put this behind her, and never look back. Already she feels branded once more by his touch. Even if he doesn't remember who she is, his muscles fit much the same against hers as they always did. His fingers touch her with the same familiarity, as if he already knows the touch of her skin.

For a bittersweet moment, she allows herself to savor the lust that rolls through her. He wants her, and oh how she wishes that this were enough.

Her stomach flutters, and then clenches, as Yoongi's newly freed fingers ghost against the waistband of her panties. She has to leave, and now! Lailah squirms and struggles against Yoongi's hold, desperate to flee before she loses all self control. But her strength is not enough to overpower the cat hybrid behind her; despite her cries of protest he shoves his hand into her panties.

His fingers are not gentle. He does not tease, does not dance around her labia or tweak at her clitoris. No. Yoongi goes straight for the prize. He thrusts his fingers inside of her, causing Lailah to cry out. Her back arches as he begins to stroke her walls, fingertips brushing against that one magical spot with every pass.

She should leave.

Lailah should run away, and above all she should not be allowing this to happen. These are the things running a marathon within her startled and frantic mind. Already, she can feel her body relaxing against his chest, mind wandering as he torments her with those skilled fingers...

And if she has noticed it, he is bound to have as well.

Half-heartedly, Lailah attempts to pull Yoongi's fingers away. He growls, however, and the grip on her neck tightens. With a choked gasp, Lailah's upper body gives out; she sags within Yoongi's embrace, held up only by the hand around her throat.

The panther hybrid's brain all but short circuits as her vaginal walls begin to flutter around his fingers; she moans so beautifully, her cries make him want to pull even more pleasure from her. His cock aches within the confines of his pants; the smell of her desire is so thick now that he can almost taste it against his tongue.

His fingers slip sloppily in and out of her cunt, and fill the room with a filthy, wet and squelching sort of sound. Filled with a sudden longing to taste her, Yoongi groans.

He pulls his hand from within her panties, and wraps it around her waist instead. Lailah's legs are so weak as a result of the onslaught of his fingers, it proves easy enough to nudge her towards his cot. Easier still to push her down.

Her upper body collapses upon the firm sickbed; though her legs dangle off of the cot she can't seem to summon the strength to scoot. The heart within her chest beats an erratic tempo against her ribcage as she awaits what she knows will come next.

A hybrid in heat isn't capable of logical thought, and Yoongi's capability has already been rendered non-existent. At this point he is no longer plagued by thoughts of any sort, only the fierce need to breed the woman before him. Human, hybrid... all of that fails to matter as his brain shuts down and his body responds on pure instinct.

Instinct that has him kneel upon the floor before the cot, canines all but digging into his lower lip as he takes in the scent of her. The pants that she is wearing, made of form fitting leather, are not enough to hide the smell of her arousal.

Rather than spend the time to divest Lailah of her pants in the traditional and more patient method, Yoongi all but rips them down; buttons and buckles be damned. A lecherous grin spreads itself upon his lips at his good fortune when it appears that he'd snagged her underwear as well.

Like this, Yoongi can see just how needy a state Lailah is truly in. There is a glistening wetness seeping down her thighs, and her breathing has become labored. And at the slightest swipe of his tongue against her thigh, she moans.

It is a high, keening sort of sound; almost as if Lailah is trying to stifle her own voice, but failing. This irritates Yoongi to no end.

"Don't you fucking dare, " he demands, fingers finding a firm grip upon her thighs to pull her closer, "you're gonna scream for me. I'm gonna mount you, breed you, and you're going to scream for me like the fucking whore that you are."

He thrusts his tongue within her aching cunt, spurred on by the sudden determination to make her admit that she wants him. Yoongi wants to wreck her.

Lailah's legs tremble as her first climax of the night approaches, body tense and teeth clenched. She wants to remain silent, a tiny part of her that is still aware of what exactly is going on tells her that she shouldn't give him the satisfaction of crying out. No matter how good it feels.

Ultimately, however, Lailah's resistance is futile. She comes apart with a euphoric cry just as Yoongi's fingers find her clit.

Wearing a smug smirk, Yoongi licks at his lips. His turquoise hair sticks to his forehead where a light sheen of sweat has begun to make an appearance, and the look in his eyes has grown predatory. It is time that he takes what is his.

His cock springs free of the confines of his pants with little difficulty, the cool air of the clinic nearly shocking against his feverish and newly exposed skin. In contrast, the warmth of her cunt as he spears her with his cock is overwhelming and intense. Yoongi moans, hips stuttering as he tries to adjust to just how tight she is.

"Fuck, " Yoongi groans, tail absentmindedly brushing against the skin of Lailah's thigh, "you must have been so fucking desperate for me."

Lailah could not refute him even if she wanted to; the familiar feeling of his length pressing against her womb with every thrust has her breathless and aching for more. And when he leans forth, the ends of his hair tickling the skin of Lailah's neck as his breath caresses the spot he'd marked her all those years ago, a surge of lust rushes through her.

It is intense, all consuming in it's ferocity. Lailah's throat unlocks, and she loses all sense of inhibition as his thrusts become all but violent, punishing even. She cries out with every thrust, a reverant chant of "pleases, " and more than a few times, "yes, oh fuck yes!"

Broken only by the occasional shout of his name, and Yoongi's labored breaths, Lailah's voice fills the small clinic. The cat hybrid wouldn't doubt it if she could be heard even from outside, and the thought only spurs him further, pushes him closer to his own mounting pleasure.

"Louder, " Yoongi commands, canines brushing against the skin of her neck in ominous warning, "I want the whole fucking compound to hear you. Want them to know that you're mine, that I'm the one fucking you senseless."

And when the tip of his cock slams against her cervix so hard that Lailah is pushed forward, she is helpless but to comply.

She unravels. Falls apart upon his dick with a piercing cry. Overwhelmed, Yoongi's pace becomes far too frantic to keep up with. Already, Lailah can feel his cock expanding; even in her hazy state she recognizes that sign for what it is.

"Wait, Yoongi, you need to-"

She is cut off by the sensation of his lips upon his mark; he suckles and nips, small whines rising from his throat as his knot begins to swell. With a desperate push, Yoongi buries himself inside of Lailah so deeply that the tip of his cock is nestled against her cervix. Locked in place by his swollen cock, he cums.

For a moment, the two remain still; locked together by his knot, he couldn't pull out if he wanted to. Which he doesn't. In this raw, primal state, Yoongi recognizes Lailah for what she is.

Mate.

Lailah is his mate. He isn't cognizant enough to realize what this means, but the beast within is more than thrilled to be buried inside of her cunt. If Yoongi has his way, she won't be going anywhere for a few days. Again and again he wants to claim her, mark her, and take her. He doesn't intend to stop; even as his knot begins to soften and he can move once more, he is still hard.

His heat is in full swing now.

Too bad that Lailah's stamina is not holding up quite so well.

Yoongi is only able to pull, at max, two more orgasms out of his mate. And only once more does he fill her with his seed. Then the sight of Lailah's eyes, hazy with the need for sleep, fills Yoongi with a deep and instinctual tenderness. If asked, he couldn't hope to explain what this feeling washing over him might mean.

Despite his still raging hard on, Yoongi pulls Lailah into his chest and purrs. She sighs deeply, fingers locking themselves away in his shirt; she clutches it like a life-line as her eyes begin to grow heavy with drowsiness. Try as she might, Lailah can't seem to stay awake.

Hours after Lailah is fast asleep, Yoongi remains awake. He watches her sleeping form with an inscrutable face.

It is difficult to tell what hour it is, and, if truth be told the panther hybrid is still not in a very solid state of mind. His libido is still raging, but it had been more than clear his mate had needed rest. Wrapped around him like this, her scent is all over him. It drives him near madness, but the sight of her peacefully slumbering face is more than enough to temper his need.

With careful fingers, he reaches down to push a stray curl out of her face. She groans, eyes fluttering, but they never fully open. Lailah settles instead into his arms; Yoongi is filled with a strange sense of satisfaction. Content in simply basking in her scent for the moment, Yoongi absentmindedly falls to sleep's siren call.

"Don't touch him!"

The little girl before him snarls at the guard. Thirteen wants to find it funny; such a small girl, standing between him and his tormentor. The spikes attached to the guard's whip gleam wickedly in what little lighting his pen offers.

"What does she think she's doing?" He inwardly scoffs. "She's going to get herself killed."

"Fuck off!" The guard roars, flinging little Lailah to the side with enough force to send her smashing back first against the wall.

Thirteen's first instinct is concern.

He's not heartless.

The girl has been hanging around for such a long time now that she's grown on him; only, she might have actually just lost her life. He wants to retch.

He begins to heave, dismayed when nothing comes out. Thirteen is not surprised. How many days has it been since he actually had something to eat? Lailah tries to bring him food when she can, but her mother has been terribly sick lately. She's always busy.

But there she is: lying on the floor in a crumpled heap of expensive lavender silk.

He tries not to think about it.

He tries to think instead of the whip, likely poised to strike once more. He wonders if it'll hurt so much now, because somehow he just feels so incredibly numb.

Lailah is dead.

"Shit!" He curses angrily aloud, before turning inward with a hopeless sigh, "I should have been kinder."

Thirteen never feels the sting of the whip, however, nor hears that distinct snap that accompanies the blasted thing. Instead, his ears are greeted with the sound of a startled shout, and a cry of pain.

The small hybrid boy snaps his head up, feline eyes blown wide in shock at the sight before him.

She's not dead.

Lailah clings to the middle aged man as he she were a monkey hybrid; Thirteen has seen more than a few of those give the handlers a hard time. What surprises him most, however, is that she has her teeth lodged into the man's arm. He swings it around, clearly hoping to dislodge the girl; she, however, holds on far too tightly to be thrown off.

Her platinum curls bounce wildly about; she's all disheveled and bruised, Thirteen doesn't understand how she's not dizzy.

Dizzy and confused, Yoongi wakes up in his childhood pen.

It's been years; this place should be long destroyed.

His reflection looks back at it him from a bucket of water; this must be a dream. He is wearing the face of his youth; that of a young man with haunted eyes, though there still seems to be a flicker of hope as well.

Strange, he'd always thought you weren't supposed to be able to feel things in dreams; his simple breeches feel itchy against his calves. True to memory; how long has it been since he'd worn something so uncomfortable?

The door to his pen opens, and the flash of lightning that zips across the faraday cage just outside nearly makes him jump. But that scent; he notices it almost immediately, and calms.

It's just her.

Lailah.

Mate.

"Mate?"

Startled, Yoongi stands face to face with a teenage Lailah. The revelation of what she is, combined with the sight of her like this...

Her platinum curls, he'd forgotten that back then she'd worn them down more often. He'd told her he liked it once, and she'd forever after worn her hair down whenever she would visit. Lailah'd stopped wearing fancy dresses when visiting as well; by the time she was sixteen she'd forsaken bows and lace for leather and silk. Nana often said she dressed like a pirate, breeches, blouse, and all.

But the Lailah standing before him in this dream wears nothing more than a thin chemise. She is dressed as one would for bed, and Yoongi is surprised by the lust that courses through him at the sight of her.

It is made apparent that, in this dream, he is no more than a bystander; his body moves on it's own, his tongue speaks words that do not belong to him.

"I thought you weren't coming, " he murmurs, pulling her into his arms with familiar ease. "I've missed you."

It seems so easy to reach down and touch her; he does not have to fight with her to earn for himself a wanton moan, ushered from her lips with sincere adoration. Yoongi loves that adoration. He loves the look in her eyes, the one that tells him just how much he means to her. She wears her love for him like a badge of honor, even after what he's done to her.

It was both one of the best and one of the worst days of his life.

Strung out on libido-enhancing drugs meant to throw him into a breeding frenzy, he'd first killed an innocent rabbit hybrid, and then he'd forced himself onto Lailah. She'd come to check on him; they'd been dancing around each other for so long... Yoongi couldn't resist.

That night, he defiled her.

That night, he marked her irreversible as his. His mate. His woman.

She should have been furious with him; at first he'd almost wished she would be. He didn't know how to face her, and more than anything he didn't want to lose her. But he feared that he would. Feared it so badly that he sunk into a terrible for of depression.

Lailah, however, had carried very different emotions in regards to the experience.

For days, he avoided her. Funny, because there shouldn't have been very many places he could hide from her, but somehow, he managed. She finally cornered him eventually; the hurt on her face was more than enough to freeze Yoongi in his tracks.

He'd stood there, feeling so helpless and small as she'd cried it out. She told him that she loved him. That it wasn't his fault.

That she was happy.

"Stop overthinking things, " Lailah smiles, "I've missed you too. It was tough to get away today, father is insistent on introducing me to several suitors-"

"What?" Yoongi's fingers tighten their hold upon her, mind racing as the connotations of her statement sinks in.

He remembers this night.

This was the night he'd promised she'd never escape him. They'd made love until the morning's first bell; he reinforced his claim, and she made claims of her own. She claimed his soul, and his heart. In exchange, she'd freely given him her future, and her heart as well.

They'd sworn they'd run away together.

"We need to go!"

Lailah's cries are almost drowned out by the sound of gunfire; Yoongi glares furiously into the carnage, he wants to kill them. He wants to kill them all.

Nana's remains lay amidst the rubble, somewhere. He cannot save them, cannot give her a proper burial. There is a streak of grief in his heart; it's loud, so loud. He can't hear anything over the call in his blood for violence.

Lailah's hands upon his shoulders calm him, even if only enough to think straight. Her scent, as calming as ever, is mixed with his own now. He will come back, and he will kill Vale for what he has done.

But first, he needs to get his mate to safety.

He will not leave her here, will not flee on his own. She is his. And he is hers. If there is no place in this world for them then he will make a place. Tonight, he takes her away from all of this.

Just like she'd begged him to.

They dodge bullets, and sneak past several clockwork soldiers. Hope begins to swell within Yoongi's breast despite it all when they finally clear the mansion grounds.

The park is not terribly far, if he's lucky, he can get them out of the city with ease. It's a straight shot from the park to the train station, and the path is so often filled with too many people for the clockwork soldiers to safely patrol. Thankful for all of the time he spent sneaking around with Lailah, he leads them towards the center of the park.

Vale's goons are persistent, however. The sound of gunfire sends the crowds into a frightened frenzy; several clockwork soldiers are alerted by the commotion as well.

"Run!" Yoongi screams. "Just keep running!"

And she tries, she truly does.

Lailah tries to keep up with her lover, but he is far more graceful than she is. Though she gives it her all, with increased speed often comes reduced grace; she trips over a root and tumbles, though Yoongi catches her last second it is not enough to halt her descent.

The two are sent rolling down the hill; somewhere along the way Yoongi's head hits something with a loud and audible thud. When they finally tumble to a complete stop, Lailah is quick to discover a horrible truth. There is blood, splashes of crimson, dying his turquoise locks.

Suddenly, it is as if Yoongi is watching the next few moments from an out of body perspective.

His heart stammers in his chest as he watches Lailah, crying, screaming for help. Holding what seems like his corpse. He looks so lifeless, so frail. His heart screams in frustration at the sound of Lailah's tears; he left her all alone, didn't he?

He promised her forever, but forgot about her so easily...

"Fuck!"

Yoongi's expletive echoes within this space in his head. He watches with wet eyes as Lailah smuggles him to the healer who'd introduced him to Auri.

The weight of it all is almost too much to bear. Will he even remember any of this once he wakes up? This thought sends him into a panicked state; will he truly leave her alone once more? Everything makes so much sense now, why he was so drawn to her, why her scent called to him so. Why he felt some kind of connection, on that deeper level that had frightened him so much.

But as the edges of the dream begin to blur, and curl in on each other, what frightens him the most is the idea that he might forget it all. That he might awaken, clueless and cruel once more.

With a gasp, Yoongi is startled awake. There is something heavy and warm pressed to his chest, and the distinct feeling of flesh against his thigh is only further indication that he is not alone.

It takes a moment, but recognition of the night's events eventually dawn upon him; the edges of his lips curl into a small, relieved smile.