His growl was so low it was inaudible to those close to him as Logan watched his competition staring at his mate. Shifting, tensing, he waited impatiently as the young woman he’d claimed disappeared through the open door, leaving him and the other alpha alone.

Rising when Cyclops did he noted the tension that bled from the other man as he headed out into the corridor. Quickly following him through the maze of hallways until Cyke stepped onto the elevator, Logan snarled a low pitched warning.

A grunt of pleasure echoed after him as he trotted down the stairs. It was a good guess where his ‘prey’ was headed. Slipping through the shadows, his nostrils flaring as he caught the familiar stench of the other man. Baring his canines he broke into a lop along the corridor, entering the observation room stealthily. He moved forward, his steps silent, soft, his eyes recognizing the battle sequence Cyclops had chosen to burn off his tension. A cold, malevolent slid across his face even as his eyes took on a wild, untamed look.

Purring his pleasure he locked the observation room and moved to the non-descript doors of the Danger Room. Opening them with his code, he slid into the sequence easily, silently. Every sense alert and in tune with his chore, a perfect predator in full hunt, Logan welcomed the challenge.

Logan heard the soft click of the lock engaging as the doors slid shut. With the doors secured, he was free to stalk, to hurt the other challenger. Licking his lips he rolled his shoulders, he was looking forward to the taste of blood upon his tongue, the screams of a weaker man in his ears.

His senses guiding him, Logan moved easily through the shadows of the darkened streets and run down buildings. Ruthlessly, he killed any and all objects that got in his path, the desire for blood pounding harder and harder within him.

The stench of sweat, adrenaline, and lust reached him as he paused beside a half-collapsed building. Growls and snarls followed by feminine panting told of a dominate male and female drew on Wolverine’s wrath. The scream of an animatron came a moment before a blast of red light cut through the air a few inches from Wolverine’s head. Snarling a challenge he took two steps to his right and went up the rickety fire escape. Once on the roof he peered down at the threat below him.

Cyclops had ‘her’ pinned to the ground, his hand tearing at her clothes, his body sending off enough testosterone to light up a small city. With each inch of bared flesh, Wolverine’s rage grew…how dare another attempt to take even an imitation of what he considered to be his.

A furious snarl was the only warning as Wolverine launched himself at the man below him. Landing on him, neither noticed the female the were fighting over escape into the shadows.

Scrambling to their feet, Wolverine and Cyclops faced each other, their bodies tensed, their breath coming in pants, challenge in every inch of their stance. Growling, snarling teeth were bared, there was no backing down now.

Stumbling back Cyclops blocked a punch only to find himself with a metal laced foot in his stomach. Before Wolverine could strike again, Cyclops kicked him hard in the groin, grinning maliciously at the pained grunt from the other man.

“Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.” A flash of light, and the screech of metal on metal and the claws were out. Dropping into a crouch, Wolverine eyed Cyclops with hatred and rage. Every inch of his body was primed for a fight, much like when he faced off against Sabertooth, or Mystique.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he bared his teeth, a low angry rumble coming from in his chest as the pair circled each other. Each worked to draw the other out, testing their strength, their weaknesses. Cyclops moved quickly, lifting his hand to his visor, blasting his nemesis across the room and watched Wolverine crawl to his feet, his burns already healing.

A painfilled grunt slipped past his control as three hundred plus pounds of wild fury hit his lower chest, sending him flying to the floor. Snarling and snapping at the man on top of him, Cyclops struggled as he was rolled over, Wolverine’s heavy weight pinning him to the floor. A second later he felt the warmth of adamantium pressed against his throat, even as a trickle of saliva ran down his face from his temple. He could feel the hot wash of Wolverine’s breath on his skin, and the smell the sweet tang of tobacco, the bite of scotch, and something all too familiar…something dark and dangerous.

Bucking under the weight, Cyclops struggled to get his hands under him. If he could get enough leverage perhaps he could rest the control back from Wolverine. “She’s my mate, bub.”

“She belongs to me. I don’t share, not with anyone, not even you. You were too weak to take her before and now…now it’s my turn.” Cyclops ground out, the sudden pressure at his neck forcing his face down onto the floor.

Wincing at the bite of metal into tender skin Cyclops felt the draw of the tips of Wolverine’s claws as they made short work of his leather pants. The icy press of the floor against his naked flesh reinforced what would happen if he didn’t submit. At best, Wolverine would humiliate him, at worst…at worst Wolverine would force his submission in the most primal manner.

Renewing his struggles, he grunted as he felt a warm, dry hand forcing itself between his legs. Scratching, clawing at Wolverine’s hand on his neck, Cyclops snarled a warning a moment before he screamed at the sensation of sharp canines sinking into his shoulder.

Locked in place with teeth and weight, Cyclops wondered just how far Wolverine was willing to take this. He wasn’t about to surrender, not when the risk was too great. Groaning in agony as he felt something hard being forced into his body he renewed his struggles, his breath coming in harsh pants.

“Weak.” Wolverine grunted with each thrust of his hips, reinforcing his dominance. Ever movement, every twist of the body beneath his only added to his desire to force his will upon his nemesis. Grunting as he buried himself to deposit his essence he grabbed the back of Cyclops’ neck and bit down on his shoulder hard, drawing blood again and lapping it up.

Rising shakily to his feet, Cyclops turned to glare at Wolverine who seemed inordinately pleased with himself. Feeling his rage building to the point of eruption he tackled the other man and pinned him in place with a knee to the back of his neck. “Who’s weak?”

“You are.”

“She belongs to me. It will be me that takes her innocence, makes her a woman. And there is nothing you can do about it.” He snickered.

With the force of a hurricane Wolverine rolled from under him and pinned him in place, Cyclops nose was crushed beneath the force of his weight. “You touch her, I’ll cut you down to size.”

With a rough shove Cyclops grabbed for a handful of Wolverine’s jacket only to freeze at the rather intrusive beep of someone trying to access the Danger Room. In a flurry of movement he grabbed for the remains of his pants and pulled them on, flinching at the rub of the seam against the abused flesh of his rear just as the door opened and Hank stepped in.

“Oh, I did not realize that you were both training in here. You are injured, Scott. Report to the med lab and I’ll patch you up.”

“It’s nothing.” Scott ground out glaring at Logan through his glasses when the other man grunted.

“Even a scratch can get infected.”

“Come on Scooter, I’ll patch ‘em for ya.” Logan all but jerked Scott toward the door, a dark look on his face.



Sitting gingerly on the gourney Scott stared at Logan as he gathered the items needed to tend the bite marks. “You know we’re gonna get caught don’t you?”

“Stay away from what’s mine and it wouldn’t matter.”

“I can’t. Neither of us is willing to share.” Scott spoke softly, harshly. “Think about it Logan, one day someone’s gonna figure out what we’re fighting about or we’re gonna kill each other and then she’ll be alone.”

“What are you getting at, dick-face?”

“Co-mates.” Scott said as the door opened and Ororo stuck her head in. With a smile at them she slipped back out, obviously she’d been looking for someone else.

“Explain.” Toe to toe, nose to nose they glared at each other. The very idea of sharing their mate appalling to both of them.

“If we co-mate her then she’ll have someone if something happens. Think about it, Logan, if you fall I can protect her, protect our offspring. If I fall, you’ll be there. If we don’t and she stays alone then whose gonna watch over her? Who’ll be there for her? If we don’t protect what is ours, we leave her to the mercy of those pricks upstairs. Now, I don’t know about you, but my idea of a good man ain’t Iceman.”

“The fucker needs to learn to keep away from her. As much as I hate sharing, you’re makin’ sense. She needs us to protect her, to provide for her and the cubs.” Logan seemed to be thinking it over even as he spoke. He glanced up from the bandage in his hands and met Scott’s gaze through the glasses. “I get her first.”

Scott bristled at the bold statement before nodding. It made sense, Logan had saw her first, he’d claimed her first and if they were to work this out to the benefit of all they’d need to compromise. “First, but we share from then on.”

Logan gave a grunt of acknowledgement and slapped the bandage into Scott’s hand. “Keep a shirt on for a few days. Those bites will take time to heal.”

Shaking his head, Scott ruthlessly crushed the need to hit Logan even as he watched him walk away. The closing of the door echoed in the silence as Scott stared at the wrap in his hand before tossing it aside and sliding off the table. This would work, it had to.