Storm blinked several times, she lifted her pounding head slowly. She was tied to a chair, she realized, her arms yanked behind her and bound, her ankles tied to separate chair legs. There was a dryness in her mouth, a slightly antiseptic taste lingering there.
“Ahh, you’re awake.” Shinobi sat across from her, lounging comfortably in a plush black and red wingback chair, one ankle resting on his knee as he swirled a glass of scotch, watching her.
“Shinobi…?” Her brow furrowed. What was going on?
“You look troubled, Storm.” He leaned back, smiling at her.
Storm looked around the room, taking in her surroundings. She was in Shinobi’s bedroom.
“Recognize my room?” he asked softly. “You should. You broke in here not two weeks ago.”
She didn’t deny it, simply stared at him, waiting.
“Not feeling talkative?” He set the glass he was holding onto the small table beside the chair, rising to his feet with familiar feline grace. He walked to her, crouching so that there faces were level. “That’s all right. I don’t feel much like talking either.” He caressed her cheek and she flinched away. He scowled at her. “Back to that are we?” He moved away from her. “You were a challenge, Storm.” he said mildly. “It took more than just my flare for seduction to get you here. Isn’t that right, Emma?”
A woman with ashen blonde hair dressed entirely in white stepped forward from behind Storm’s chair, her pale blue eyes glittered with hidden mirth. “Yes. Most definitely a challenge.” She leaned up, kissing him soundly.
“What is it you want, Shinobi?” Storm asked quietly. Her vision blurred, her voice slightly slurred. She had been drugged she realized, barely able to form a coherent thought.
He smirked at her. “I want you.”
Storm frowned. “I thought we were together...”
He shook his head. “No, we weren’t.” He slid one arm around Emma’s bare waist. “If not for Emma’s help I doubt you would have ever come within fifty feet of me.”
Storm gave the woman a vacant stare. “Let me guess, telepath.” Her head lolled forward again. She struggled to lift it.
“Clever girl.” Emma said caustically.
Shinobi lifted his glass from the table, taking a swallow from the amber liquid before returning his attention to Storm. “You see, Storm, Emma here has been helping me…woo you. The key to getting close to you was to use elements of truth.” He looked at her again, an ugly smile twisting his handsome face. “I did want to seduce you, Storm. I thought I could, but you were damn stubborn.”
Emma gave a low chuckle. “But really not all that hard to manipulate once we learned what it was you wanted.”
He strode across the room in three angry steps, the back of his hand connecting with her cheek. “You could have been my queen, but all you wanted was that worthless assassin.” He took a ragged breath, fixing his shirt.
Storm winced. She had been with Shinobi hadn’t she? What was he talking about? Her head ached. Emma kneeled down. She stroked Storm’s hair away from her eyes. “Hurts, I know.” She tapped Ororo’s temples. “I had a devil of a time working past those nifty little gadgets.” She stood, running her hands down her short skirt. “I was never able to get past them completely to control you. They kept shutting you down when I tried.” She smiled. “So I simply manipulated what was there. Transferring your feelings for one man to another.”
It was sinking into her muddled brain. Storm stiffened, listening to the far away female voice speaking to her. They had taken her feelings for Logan and manipulated them so that she would be attracted to Shinobi. But it hadn’t worked completely, she realized. The headaches, the blackouts, her inability to let Shinobi touch her, all of it was her body’s way of fighting the intrusion.
Ororo raised her eyes, glaring at Shinobi. “She’s not in here anymore,” she said quietly, referring to Emma’s manipulation. There was no attraction for the man before her, no lingering feelings, nothing that even resembled fondness, only disgust and anger.
“No,” he agreed. “I didn’t want anything ruining this night for us. I want you to be aware of everything. Fully as yourself. No outside interference.” His grin was distinctively cruel. “No more manipulation, Storm. You are once again entirely you.”
His voice was muffled and there was a dull echo in her ears, her eyelids heavy. Whatever they had drugged her with was powerful, and she couldn’t get a grip on her thoughts, couldn’t summon her powers. “You’re a sad, pathetic little man,” she said. “Brainwashing,” she laughed. “Even that wasn’t enough to make me want you to touch me.”
His grin faded and his breath escaped in a long hiss. “You will pay for that disrespect.” He lunged at her, increasing the density in his hand so when he struck she felt like she had been hit by a brick. Blood trickled from her mouth, her head hanging forward. He tilted her chin, forcing her head up, kneeling in her face. “Stay awake, Storm. The fun is just starting.” He kissed her nose.
She spat on him.
He smiled. “I knew you were a fighter.” He held out his hand and Emma handed him a cloth. He wiped it down his face, removing her blood and spit. “I shall truly enjoying breaking you.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “It’ll take more than you.”
Shinobi leaned towards her, his smile cruelly sexual. He stroked his hand along her thigh, watching her face as he moved towards her core, left unguarded by the tied position of her legs. “I look forward to the challenge.” He cupped her sex through the leather of her pants and Ororo stifled a scream, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid.
Emma strolled forward, handing Shinobi a decorative curved blade. Holding the heavy handle he leveled the razor sharp edge at Storm. She glared at him, unable to do anything else, telling him with her eyes how she loathed him.
“You’ve awoken something in me, Storm, something that I enjoy.” he said softly. “A feeling of power like no other, especially knowing you will soon be at my feet begging for mercy.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” she said, meeting his gaze directly.
Shinobi brushed the blade against the slender column of her throat. He stroked it along her almost like a caress, drawing a thin line of blood across her neck. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
Revulsion welled up and Storm tried to sit back in the chair. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead, running down the valley of her breasts. Her heart was pounding despite her calm appearance. If only she could clear her head…
Taunting laughter filled her mind and Storm shot a pointed look at Emma. “I thought you said no interference.”
Shinobi gave Emma a look over his shoulder. “Get out.”
Emma pouted. “But I want to watch.”
He turned the tip of his blade towards her. “Get. Out.”
Emma glowered, but strolled past them, casting Shinobi a disgruntled look. “I guess I won’t expect you tonight.”
“I will be occupied.” he confirmed. “Storm and I shall be very busy for hours to come.”
Emma left the room, tossing Ororo a kiss over her shoulder as she went.
“Where to begin?” He mused, tapping the silver knife blade against his chin.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
His gaze was heated as he spoke. “Because there has never been a woman that has said no before.”
“All of this…because I didn’t want you?” Damn, why couldn’t she focus. “And I thought Jean was a narcissist.”
Shinobi tilted the chair back, lifting her feet several inches off the floor, looking daggers at her. “Such hurtful words coming from such a luscious mouth.” He kissed her, shoving his tongue into her mouth. She clamped down, tasting blood, smiling in satisfaction even as her back hit the floor. He jerked back, clamping one hand to his wounded mouth.
Shinobi stomped on her tied ankle, cracking it against the wood of the chair leg and despite her best efforts a hiss of pain escaped her. “How very brave of you, Shaw. Beating a helpless woman.”
Shinobi stomped her again, and there was the distinct sound of bone breaking. She cried out. He grinned. “Do you consider yourself helpless?” he asked mildly.
“Untie me and find out.” She inclined her head, looking up at him. “Unless you‘re afraid.” Even from the flat of her back she held herself proudly and Shinobi felt the stirrings of desire.
Another sexual smile lit his face. “Very well.” He moved behind the chair, lifting it upright once again. He kneeled, slicing the ropes around one ankle. Storm stayed very still. He looked up at her, then sliced through the other set of ropes. Instantly her legs shot out, catching him around the neck, squeezing. With a laugh he lowered the density of his body, phasing through her legs, much like Kitty through walls.
“You shall be my most prized conquest.”
Storm shakily rose to her feet, her arms still bound to the chair, her right ankle throbbing. “I am far from conquered.”
Shinobi lunged at her, knocking her to the wall, splintering the chair. He pulled the blade up under her chin, pressing himself against her. She moved to strike him, but her arms were numb from their long captivity and he captured her wrists easily, holding them together with the rope above her head with one of his larger hands. The other hand still held the razor sharp knife and he drew it down her front, slicing the laces of her corset. It fell open, revealing her breasts to his demented gaze.
At the touch of his mouth to one nipple Ororo shut her eyes, hot tears spilling past her lashes. Nonononono. Her brain was fuzzy, her arms numb and her body exhausted, but still she struggled against his bruising strength. White hot pain sliced through her as the edge of his blade slid along her collar bone, down the swell of her breast. She cried out in protest, but it only fed the madness in him.
“I will have you,” he swore.
“Never.” she replied. Another long cut along her torso, down to the leather of her pants.
“I will hear you scream my name, one way or another, Storm.” He jerked her away from the wall, throwing her across the room. She rolled, trying to stand, disoriented. Shinobi was lifting her, walking her towards his bed. No! She thrashed wildly and he dropped her. She scrambled away from him. “You can’t run, Storm. Resign yourself to the fact that tonight you will be made a woman. My woman.” He reached down, yanking her up by the split sides of her corset, ripping it from her, leaving her bare to her pants.
She head butted him, a move she had learned from watching Wolverine. She winced, apparently an adamantium skeleton came in handy for that move. His fist caught her jaw, sending her crashing into his nightstand.
“I will have you,” he said again.
“Shinobi.” She was on her hands and knees, panting.
He looked at her patiently.
She lifted her head, eyes glowing. “Stick to fucking yourself.”
Club Hellfire
The room was alive with the heartbeats of countless people. He walked among them, moving with the natural grace of a predator. Their scents were strong in his nostrils. Perfume, sweat, soap, alcohol and drugs to name a few.
The club was large, with hundreds of people crowded together. Wolverine blended into the shadows, moving stealthily around the room, his gaze searching. He needed to find Storm. When he had returned to the mansion Kitty had been the only one brave enough to approach him, which he admittedly found surprising. When he asked for Storm she had told him that Storm was out with Ali and Gambit.
His jaw had clenched tight when she had told him where they were. “I thought she got everything Chuck needed,” he growled.
Kitty had taken a step back. “She did. This isn’t work.”
Wolverine hadn’t bothered to bring his bags to his room, dropping them right there in the foyer, turning and marching back out the door an angry scowl on his face. Instead of taking the SUV, he had gone to the garage, tearing the tarp from his baby and roaring into the night.
He had sped through the mostly deserted streets at dangerous speeds, fury and jealousy raging alongside need and hurt. How could she be with that guy? There was something not right, here. It just didn’t smell right.
Wolverine made his way onto the dance floor, shoving several people aside none to gently. He grabbed Gambit’s shoulder, spinning him around. “Storm. Where is she?”
“Easy, homme.” Gambit shrugged him off. “Why you want ‘er?”
Wolverine glowered at him. “I wanna see her, Gumbo. Where is she?”
Alison’s spiky head appeared over Gambit’s shoulder and she gave Wolverine a narrow look. “Why?”
“It’s between me and her, Ali. Where is she?”
Ali looked him up and down, then jerked her head towards the guarded stairs. “Upstairs with Shaw.”
Wolverine didn’t think his mood could be any darker, but he was wrong, his eyes glinting hard steel. “Upstairs?”
Ali nodded. “Yup. Ya snooze ya lose, buddy.” She took Gambit’s hand, walking away.
“You can’t go up there.” A bulky bodyguard said as Wolverine approached. “Private party.”
“Yeah?” -SNIKT- “Here’s my invitation!” The blades rested against the soft flesh under the larger man’s chin.
The man moved and Wolverine struck, head butting the guy, sending him to the floor with a groan. He stepped over the unconscious man, taking the stairs two at a time. Once upstairs Wolverine paused, sniffing. Various scents invaded his nose, none of them pleasant. Drugs, opiates, sex and blood. His lip curled back, thinking of Storm with Shaw, up on the balcony, doing things together that he dreamt of doing with her.
The mirrored balcony doors were shut, sealed tight, but that didn’t stop him. Wolverine jogged back down the stairs, picked up the still unconscious body guard in a fireman carry, then returned to the locked glass doors, heaving the man through them. Glass tinkered to the ground and Wolverine shouldered his way in, sniffing the empty room. Storm had been there. With Shaw… and someone else, a woman. The scents were faint, and he cursed, they’d been gone awhile. Wolverine went to the overlook, staring down at the floor where Ali and Gambit were still dancing. They were apparently too lost in their own world to notice Storm was missing, and Wolverine felt an angry growl form in his throat. Where the fuck was she?
Shaw Mansion
Glass shattered as Ororo’s back hit Shinobi’s mirrored closet. The man sure liked looking at himself she thought, hardly able to believe they were able to transfer her feelings for a man like Logan to a pretty boy like Shaw. It explained a lot, but disgusted her all the same. How she couldn’t see…Ugh!! Shaw’s foot caught her midsection. Ok, Storm, fight now, analyze later. She tried to stand, but was completely unable to at this point. She crawled away from him and his mocking laughter followed her.
“On your knees is only one of the many positions I envisioned us in.”
Fear, real and undiluted clogged her throat as she felt Shinobi’s hands grab her ankles dragging her back towards him. She dug her fingers into the carpet to no avail. He was on her in a flash, pulling her against his erection, grinding himself into her through their clothes. He groaned in her ear and Ororo felt the urge to vomit. She elbowed him in the gut, clambering away only to have him tackle her, rolling her to her back.
He brutally crushed her breasts in his hands, pinning her to the floor. “If I had known how exciting you were, we would’ve done this long ago.” he shoved his knee between her legs, parting her for him.
“Get off of me!”
He slapped her, splitting her already raw lower lip again. Thunder boomed overhead, and she knew the weather was responding to her fear and rage. If only she could summon a coherent thought long enough to control it. He hit her again and the edges of her vision faded black. NO! she struggled to remain conscious.
The sky was a swirling vortex of rolling clouds and flashes of light. Wolverine rode like a man possessed towards the cauldron of clouds. His heart hammered in his chest, the reasons for the unnatural weather warring in his head. Storm was either in trouble or having a very good time. It was almost comical that he wasn’t sure which one was preferable.
He lowered his head, gunning the engine, swerving in and out of the downtown Manhattan traffic with unerring skill. He was five minutes away from Shinobi Shaw’s estate, but for Wolverine that five minutes felt like forever.
Shaw mansion
She was jostled by hands on her hips, trying to yank her pants down. Ororo blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes of fresh tears, swatting at Shaw futilely. She was losing this fight she knew, but refused to give in. The silver of his blade glittered in the light moments before he sliced up the side of her pant leg, then the other, leaving her clad only in her black lace panties.
Shinobi paused, staring down at her, running his hand over her flat stomach and touching her lower.
She kicked him in the head, rewarded by a deep stab to her upper thigh. She kicked him again.
“I find your struggles far less amusing now,” he warned, slamming her legs to the floor. He was frustrated she could see and angry. Good.
She moved to kick him a third time, but he flipped her. He wrapped one hand in her hair, pulling her back against him. He was fumbling with his own pants now and Ororo felt a scream welling up in her chest. Oh, Goddess, no. Please, no. She cried internally, but remained stoically silent even as she felt the tip of his dick pressing at her through her underwear. He rubbed himself against her, groaning loudly.
“I want you to know I would have treated you like a queen, Storm. But now you will be my whore.” He reached down sliding her underwear to the side, and she screamed loudly, raw and bloodcurdling, the night turned day by the white hot flashes of lightning whipping across the sky.
The bedroom door splintered open and a dark shadow stood in the archway, six long claws extended. “Get yer fuckin’ hands off her!”
Shinobi rose, lifting Storm in front of him like a shield. “You obviously never learned manners, Wolverine.” Shinobi hissed.
Wolverine didn’t reply, his head lowered, the beast within him intent on the kill. He had been outside when he had heard Storm’s bloodcurdling scream and he had never moved so fast in his life as he did in that moment. Now, seeing her, bloody and beaten, her eyes shadowed with horror, all he wanted to do was kill.
Wolverine stepped into the room and Shinobi placed the edge of his knife to Storm’s throat.
“You just signed yer own death sentence,” Wolverine snarled.
Ororo gave him a steady look, catching his attention. She jerked her head back, surprising Shaw and clipping his chin. It was a small distraction but it was all Wolverine needed. Ororo dropped to the ground as he moved.
Shinobi swore, flinging his knife in Wolverine’s direction, but Wolverine was simply not there, moving with fluid grace and speed. He thrust himself between Shinobi and Storm. With blurring speed he attacked, contemptuously marking Shinobi’s face with three deep furrows. Shinobi screamed, trying to harden himself against the attack.
Wolverine’s low growl sent chills down Storm’s spine. She watched the battle, unable to tear her gaze away. She heard Shinobi’s whimpers of pain as Wolverine coolly, relentlessly and mercilessly slashed him to pieces. Blood splashed the floor, splattering the walls. Storm backed away slowly, her gaze on Wolverine’s face, it was an implacable mask of death. His assault on Shinobi was the coldest most merciless thing she had ever seen. Each slash was deliberate, intentionally bringing the most amount of pain. Shinobi didn’t stand a chance and within minutes he was covered in thousands of cuts.
“You thought yerself fit to touch her,” he was snarling. With a quick slice Shinobi’s hand fell to the floor. “To look at her!” He ran one blade across Shaw’s closed eyes. “To use her!!” Wolverine’s voice was more growl than vocal and Storm turned away as Wolverine effectively castrated the man who had attacked her. He followed by burying his fist into Shinobi’s chest, ending the other man’s life ruthlessly.
Storm realized she was still sitting in just her underwear and she grasped for something to cover herself with and a low sob escaped her when she realized there was nothing.
The sound brought Wolverine out of his killing frenzy. His troubled eyes settled on where she was huddled on the floor. He moved towards her and she slid back. He slowed, watching her carefully. Her teeth were chattering and her eyes were glassing over. “’Ro?” he reached for her, his hands dripping with Shinobi’s rhesus negative. He swore, wiping his hands on his pants for the lack of anything better. “It’s all right, darlin’.”
“Logan…” Ororo held her arms up to him, unable to stand.
He removed his jacket and scooped her up, covering her and holding her like she was a child. Once outside he zipped his jacket on her, apologizing that all he had was the bike. She didn’t respond, simply rested her head on his shoulder. He seated them so that she sat curled against him in the front of the seat. It was an awkward and highly illegal way to drive, but he didn’t really give a shit.
Xavier Institute
Loft
Steam poured from the faucet as Logan washed the blood from his hands. When he was done he grabbed some washcloths and towels, filling the bathtub with hot water. He turned to Ororo who was seated on the toilet lid in her robe staring at the wall, her expression vacant. He knelt in front of her. “I’m just gonna clean ya up, darlin’.” he whispered, throat clogged. He dabbed her bloodied lip with the edge of a washcloth. She didn’t even blink. He wiped away the blood from under her nose, gently cleaning the cuts on her forehead, talking to her in low soothing tones the entire time. Once her face was clean he tossed that washcloth in the trash, picking up a new one. He soaked it and gave her a pained look. “I need ta see the rest of yer wounds, baby.”
She made no response and Logan placed his hand under her elbow, helping her stand. He untied her robe, taking in her form. He went perfectly still, angry and horrified at her wounds. A sound raw and wounded tore at his throat. How could anyone have done such a brutal, unforgivable thing to someone as pure as ‘Ro? There was nothing sexual in his appraisal, only concern. Long deep cuts graced her torso from collar bone to waist and Wolverine felt the urge to kill that fucker all over again. He ran the warm cloth over the injuries, taking care to be gentle. Once her front was clean he turned her, stroking her back, cleansing the cuts, pulling glass from her skin. Once that was done he carried her limp body to the steaming bath, hoping the heat would ease some of her soreness. She was still silent and he worried. After a few minutes he rinsed her hair, lifting her back out of the tub, drying her carefully, wrapping her in her robe. Her ankle was still very swollen, so he carried her to her bed, laying her down gently.
He tucked the blankets around her, moving to shut off her lamp so she could sleep. Ororo’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist almost painfully. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered hoarsely.
Logan moved to her side at once. “I ain’t leaving,” he assured her.
Ororo nodded, but didn’t release him.
Hesitantly, uncertain of what to do, Logan sat on the bed beside her. Ororo lifted the covers in silent invitation. Without a word, Logan slipped off his boots and slid under the covers, fully clothed, pulling her into his arms, her head resting on his chest. He stroked her long hair, watching her. She didn’t close her eyes, just stared straight ahead, her breathing shallow and he knew she was fighting tears.
“It’s all right ta cry,” he said in hushed gruffness.
Ororo was silent, listening to the steady drum of his heart under her ear. She breathed in his earthy, male scent and was comforted. Her body trembled with the aftermath of Shinobi‘s attack, but her mind and heart were clear. She couldn‘t stand the idea of one more day passing without him knowing what he meant to her. “I love you, Logan.” she whispered closing her eyes. Her softly spoken words seemed to drain the last of her energy, her breathing deepening as she welcomed sleep.
Logan continued to stroke her hair, even as his chest heaved and silent tears coursed down his face. “I love you too, ‘Ro.”
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