"You bitch!" Valrus shouts. He's backing up, as if thinking that putting space between them will save him from his dismal fate at the bottom of the lake. "I'll kill you! For the rest of my days, I'll plan your agonizing death!"

Kane is saying something, but Hannah hears nothing, her ears ringing, stuck holding Valrus's fear-filled gaze. He's terrified and on the verge of tears, but he's holding it back with the wicked pride he'll forever exude. "I'm sorry," she whispers, not sure why.

Valrus swallows. His gaze is wild. "I do love you."

"No," Hannah whimpers, tears falling from her eyes. "Don't you dare!"

"I do," Valrus says, tripping and falling ungracefully onto the grassy knoll that leads back to the motel. He doesn't rise, half-lays, and clutches at the grass. "I hate you. You're infuriating. Uncouth. Simple..."

He rips a clump and tosses it her way, the fistful of dirt slapping her jeans. "You're...so stubborn. So irritating. I've read your thoughts—boring things they are, but they're good. Not many are. Not like yours. I love you; I've lied about a lot, yes, but I've never lied about that, never."

Hannah stumbles forward, yanking away from Kane's grip that grabs her arm to steady her. "You asshole!" Don't do this. Not at the end. Don't make her question. Haunting her forever with what-ifs

She's on Valrus with her fists. He doesn't fight back. Her knuckles meet his jaw. When he turns instinctually to protect himself from her ire, arms covering his head, she punches his shoulder, his back, and his side.

Kane remains silent. And she can only imagine what he's thinking. She's fighting the air. Growling like an animal. She must look insane. If he never wants to touch her again, she'll understand.

The fight leaves her quickly. She slumps. Knuckles bleeding, her fingers slide over damp grass, and she takes Valrus's hand in a gentle hold. "I hate you." Because to say what she really wishes would be damning.

Peeking from the protection of his arms, his silvery eyes, somehow now an even lighter blue, blink at her. He clutches her hand in return, gripping it tremblingly, and smiles faintly. His whisper is almost lost beneath the waves of water and the soft howling of the wind: "No, you don't."

Then he's gone.

She sobs, rocking. Her fingers flex on nothing. The urge to jump into the water, swim to the bottom, and retake the necklace is almost too much.

Then, strong arms are around her, tugging her against a firm chest, and she cries. She grasps at a shirt that smells familiar and safe, letting her mourn a creature that doesn't deserve the tears with soft, comforting murmurs. She hates Valrus so much that she could choke on it.

She hates him.

Returning to the room is indistinct. Hannah recalls sobbing in Kane's arms. Then she was vaguely aware of making it back to the motel, but the moment the door clicks open, giving a glimpse of peeling wallpapered walls, and she's nudged towards scratched wooden furniture, her mind sharpens.

With her cheek pressed against Kane's chest, basking in the comforting smell of him that's quickly becoming a familiar indulgence to her, she feels intoxicated, as if she's been imbibing all the pent-up emotion she was keeping locked away until now.

"Hannah," Kane protests half-heartedly when arms are flung around his neck. Despite his chastising tone, he reciprocates her kiss. 

He stumbles them further into the room, putting a strong arm around her lower back to keep her upright, and a well-placed kick from the sole of Kane's shoe has the door slamming closed. If they weren't the only people renting rooms in this tiny motel, she might feel guilty for shaking the wall. Might.

They fall to the bed on the creaking springs of the mattress. Kane catches himself on an elbow and a palm. "Hannah," he mumbles against her lips, which are giving him no reprieve. She's feral. He grabs her arms and untangles them from around his neck, pulling away from the kiss. "You're not..."

Hannah breathes, "I'm not?" Her heart is pounding a mile a minute. She's feeling hot, sweaty, and needy. But Kane's looking down at her with eyes not dark with desire but wide with concern. She tries to entice him back by licking her lips and lifting her hips so they're flush.

Kane rises off of her, much to her dismay, and sits heavily on the edge of the bed. "You're not thinking, not after what happened at the lake."

"I am," Hannah says, unjustly angry, and she lifts herself onto her elbows.

"You're not. A lot happened tonight. The auction going to shit. You're not used to all that death. The adrenaline wearing off can mess with your head." Kane snorts. "Believe me, I know."

Hannah rises to sit fully. She grabs Kane's wrists, draws them onto her lap, and locks their gazes. "Look at me. I'm fine." She's not fine. Her head is airy, and there are so many conflicting emotions and thoughts that her brain has shut down, but if there's one thing she knows for certain, it's that she wants this. "I want you."

Kane's gaze flits over her features, taking her in intensely. "After you threw the necklace, you...you were out of your mind, Hannah. I was trying to talk to you, and you wouldn't hear me." His throat bobs on a swallow. "I know what someone looks like when they're in the deep end, and you were drowning."

"Reid?"

"He used to do the same thing, not hear."

Hannah realizes belatedly that for a man who seems emotionally distant, Kane was quick to gather her into his arms and whisper sweetly, like he has done something similar many times before. Her heart aches fiercely. "You've always dealt with everything alone."

Eyes widening, Kane's lips move for a few moments without words, and then his gaze falls half-lidded as he rasps, "I don't ever want you to look like that ever again. That kind of darkness is a slippery slope. Let me help you."

"I am," Hannah says, smiling faintly.

"Forever."

"Are you asking me to date you?"

Kane's nose scrunches. "I'm asking that you stay."

"With you?" Hannah's delighting in the blush that's spreading from Kane's cheeks to his neck and turning the tips of his ears a sweet pink.

Kane says carefully, "With me and Reid."

"Of course."

"He's a leech, Hannah."

Hannah smiles fondly. "Just keep him out of the bed."

Kane cringes.

"No!" Hannah screeches, falling into a fit of laughter. She will never, under any circumstances, share a bed with Reid. Not because he'd try anything untoward. It's because he'd definitely sandwich himself in the middle and try to cuddle her. "Absolutely not!"

Laughing softly, Kane says, "I'm just warning you that if you're under the assumption we'll share a bed, ever." He swallows, flushing a deeper crimson. "The idiot is going to lose his mind."

"Let him."

"He'll scratch at the door."

Hannah smiles. "Has neither of you ever had a girlfriend?"

Kane frowns, unimpressed. "Hannah, I'm twenty-five."

"That's not an answer. Wait. How old is Reid?" She heard Kane, in passing, use the fact that he was older as to why he was so much taller. Reid has an ageless way about his delicate features that has her floundering to settle on a number. At a guess, she'd say twenty-four.

"Twenty-three."

"I'm a year older," Hannah exclaims, laughing evilly. She rises onto her knees, looking down at Kane with her chin tipped back, smirking, and as if not on his own accord, Kane's hands follow her, gripping her waist. "He's officially the younger brother. Honestly, it explains a lot."

Kane's lips twitch, threatening a smile. "He's not going to be bothered by that." His hands move down to her hips and grip her with intention. He frowns, deeply concerned. "Seriously, don't call him your brother unless you're serious."

"Fine," Hannah says, feigning benevolence. She shimmies on her knees closer, laying her palms on Kane's cheeks and feeling the subtle roughness of the stubble there. "He can stay in bed, but only on weekends. The other days, you're all mine."

Kane seems to be thinking about something, blinking up at her, cheeks flushed. His gaze suddenly hardens, and he says sternly, "Fine. Let's date." He's so serious that it would be plausible that they're about to rush into battle, guns blazing and swords sharp. "Let's do it."

Hannah laughs. "Fine, let's date?" The lack of romance is just so Kane; she's beaming. "Let's do it?"

Kane nods. His lips pull at the corners, miming hers, and they're both smiling widely. He lets her rise from the bed, her fingers falling away from her hips. "Calling it dating is so..." He rubs a hand over his flushed face, leaning back on his palm.

Hannah hums. "What would you call it?" She unties her boots and kicks them off; the left hits the wall with a soft thud.

"I don't know; I don't label things; not everything can be put in a box; the lines blur; I don't know." Kane sits forward, his gaze intense. "I can tell you how I feel about you and about us."

Hannah's eyes widen. "Please," she whispers, winded.

"I want you around even when you're acting stubborn and bitchy," Kane says honestly, thinking hard and missing her glare. Bitchy? His lips tug at the corners, and the sight softens her heart. "You're badass. You don't take shit from anyone. I like that."

"Yeah?" Hannah says, blushing. She tugs her shirt over her head and smirks at Kane's look of surprise. "Keep going." Her fingers move to unfasten her jeans. "What else do you like about me?"

Kane's attention is solely on her. The green of his eyes glows with remnants of his leftover magic. "You're...uh..." His words have become less than eloquent as Hannah peels off her tight jeans. "I want to protect you."

Hannah stands shamelessly clad in her simple black bra and matching underwear. "I don't need protection." She can see the way Kane's throat bobs and his chest rises, his breath picking up speed. "I can take care of myself. Isn't that what you like about me?"

"You're fucking distracting," Kane growls. His eyes are dark. "I want to lock you up and never let you put yourself in danger."

A threat such as that shouldn't make her knees weak, but it does. She chokes, "Think you can?"

"I'd find a way." 

She believes him. She unhooks her bra and tosses it away, enjoying the way Kane's eyes stray over her body, taking her in for the first and hopefully not the last time.

"Hannah. If you're playing, fucking kill me."

Smiling at the breaking of Kane's shaky composure, the gruffness his voice has taken has her own heart bounding, and slowly, drawing out the act, Hannah hooks her fingers in the waistband of her underwear. "We're alone. Want to stretch the babysitting another hour?"

Kane curses. He leans back on his palms, his legs shifting and his knees spreading ever so slightly. "Not a good idea." He's making no move to stop their game, despite his words.

"Oh, this?" Hannah drops her underwear, and then she's naked in all her glory. She flinches as Kane rises from the bed like a predator pouncing on its prey, and then she's laughing, palming hands grasping her, tickling inadvertently. "It isn't a good idea?"

Maybe not inadvertent. Kane's gaze is dark with desire, but there's a hint of mirth in the green. He whispers gruffly, "Rule one of survival: when you're hiding from vampires wanting to kill you, never get fully naked."

"I can put some clothes back on," Hannah gasps, squirming at the fingers pinching her hips. The chafing of his clothes against her unclothed body is leaving her tingling in the best of ways.

She squeals when her world turns upside down, tossed over Kane's shoulder like she's nothing. She grabs at the back of his shirt, laughing, only to choke on air when a palm whacks the back of her thigh. It wasn't gentle, leaving a sting. She shudders.

Hannah's left momentarily breathless as the brute tosses her on the bed. She's on her back, close to the end of the mattress, and she lifts a foot, pressing her bare sole against Kane's firm stomach, stopping his advance.

She shivers at the brush of his rough fingertips as they grip her ankle. His hand is big, and she wonders how much pressure he'd have to exert to break her foot. Not a lot. "You're not going to undress?"

"I'm not going to fight naked," Kane says incredulously. He works on unfastening his belt. The absence to the gesture has her flushing so hot that she's sweating. He has the same expression she's seen him wear while facing down a hoard of vampires: he's decided, and he's not going to back down, even if the odds are stacked against him. "Anyone could bust in. We're on the run."

Hannah laughs. "I'm naked!"

"I'll protect you," Kane says, not with a smile; he's serious. Then his lips rise, wicked, and the sight steals any of Hannah's breath she'd had left. "I'll kill anyone who sees you like this."

Hannah tugs at the hem of Kane's shirt, hoping that he'll give in and undress. "I don't think the deposit will cover those damages."

She gasps at the fingers clutching her jaw, and the firm kiss that takes her lips erases all coherent thoughts. A palm settles on her thigh, slipping down and easing between her legs. She's kissed by chapped lips and touched by a hand that's meant for violence but is subdued, fingers sweet and gentle.

When Kane pulls away, she's left refilling her lungs with ragged breaths and blinking dumbly, wondering how she missed that he was a literal god of lust this entire time.

Kane rasps, "I want—Lucas is a fucking creep."

Hannah licks her lips. "I don't want to stop." She can't deny that she has a pang of worry in her stomach. She'll kick Lucas's ass if he hurts Reid; she'll flay him alive, there's no doubt, but she's shaking with yearning that has to be sated.

Kane groans and huffs, "Quickly."

"Quickly," Hannah agrees, placing her hands on Kane's broad shoulders and gripping the soft material of his shirt with trembling fingers.

She has a spark of clarity when her hips are grabbed by firm hands and she's tossed further up the bed, mattress bouncing, thighs spreading as Kane prowls, pressing flush.

She's heard all the scare tactics about the dangers of sleeping with a stranger without protection. She's always been careful. This isn't her first rodeo.

But there's no way she'd be able to speak when she's given firsthand experience of what it feels like to be on the receiving end of Kane's hot temper. He's everywhere. Invading. Fingers digging into her thighs, sliding between her legs, and never giving her a chance to regain her breath.

Hannah shouldn't be surprised that he makes love like he fights, holding her down firmly but gently and forcing choked gasps from her panting lips. When she squirms, trying to take over and shove him onto his back, Kane holds her tighter, his gaze sharpening, fire in his eyes.

She melts, giving in.

He takes her harder then, treating her like she's something to be defeated, moaning in her ear, animalistic.

For the first time in her life, afterwards, when they lay catching their breaths, she's left smiling with not a smidge of regret.