Author's Chapter Notes:
So, I'm interested to hear what you guys think. At first I was worried about spilling all the plot too quickly, and now I feel like it's taking too long to get there. Oh well, things should pick up soon. I also feel like Rogue is a bit of a mess so far, but in her defense she's been screwed with pretty seriously. I like a strong Rogue, so I promise you'll see a little more of that to come.
Rogue guided the gray deeper into the woods, her thoughts in turmoil. She had almost decided not to ride today, had come close to turning the truck around a hundred times on the way to the stables, but some stubborn part of her insisted on seeing this through.

Now that she was here, though, her mind was a tumult of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Would he really come? Did she want him to? And most of all, what on earth did he want from her?

She was so consumed by her doubts and fears that she hardly noticed when it started. The barest whisper at the edge of her mind, like the brush of an insect’s wing, and then suddenly gone.

She pulled on the reins, bringing the horse to a sudden stop. Please, no. Please...not now.

Her protest was useless. It started as a trickle and then quickly grew to a flood, more and more whispers seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere, rushing over her mind in a wave. One voice separated from the rest, a woman’s voice, shrill and venomous above the babble: “You bitch!”

“Rogue?” His gruff voice cut through the clamor, silencing the voices instantly.

Still dizzy from the onslaught, she jerked her head up, looking for him. Nothing but the sunlight and trees, and then suddenly he was there, stepping silently out from behind a tree trunk a bare few feet away. The dappled sunlight etched the planes of his face in sharp lines and shadows, his eyes hidden. She felt her hands jerk involuntarily on the reins at the same time her thighs tightened against the gray’s sides and the horse tossed his head, whinnying in aggravation at her conflicting cues.

The Wolverine took a step forward and the light caught his eyes, golden hazel and warm with concern. She suddenly felt the tension drain from her body. The look in his eyes seemed to kindle something within her, something that felt strangely like warmth, and safety...

The feeling was so acute she had to look away, patting the horse’s neck awkwardly. “It’s okay, sugar,” she whispered, feeling foolishly like she was talking to herself as much as the horse. “Settle down.”

She slid to the ground, still unable to meet his eyes. She started walking, leading the gray, and felt him fall into step beside her. She kept waiting for him to speak, but he seemed content to walk on in silence. She took in his appearance in quick sidelong glances. Sturdy boots, and blue jeans worn to velvety smoothness. A ridiculously large belt buckle. A white sleeveless undershirt, covered by a soft flannel shirt that seemed to hug his lean waist and broad shoulders. She risked a glance at his face, and realized by the amusement she saw there that he had been watching her look him over.

She stopped, forcing herself to face him despite the blush she felt rising in her cheeks. “I don’t know anything about Sebastian’s business.”

Confusion seemed to flash across his face briefly, and then he nodded. “Okay.”

Okay? That was it? “So what are you? Federal agent? Corporate spy?”

His lips quirked with amusement. “Do I look like either of those things?”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be a very good one if you did.” She looked him over again. “You look like a lumberjack.” He laughed, and she couldn’t help smiling in response.

“You don’t seem too concerned about your husband being investigated.”

The smile fell from her face, and she started walking again. He was right. She didn’t feel any wifely loyalty toward Sebastian. If anything, she was glad someone else wanted answers. She had no idea how to even begin explaining, though, even if she trusted him enough to do so. Which she didn’t. “It’s complicated,” she finally said.

He nodded again, seeming to realize that he had pushed too far. “Well, I’m not a federal agent. And I’m not a corporate spy. You could call me freelance, I guess. If you don’t mind me sayin’ so, it seems to me that your husband is up to no good, and I’d like to know what it is he’s planning.”

She nodded. She wasn’t stupid, she had seen the type of characters Sebastian had been bringing to the country house. That horrible woman Emma Frost, and the other assorted ruffians who had been arriving by the day. They weren’t business types, they were thugs. “What do you think he’s doing?”

He shrugged, but she could see frustration in the tension of his body. “I don’t know. He doesn’t trust me much. I don’t even know why he wants me here, let alone what else he’s up to.” He stopped suddenly, his voice low and intense. “Rogue, a friend of mine is missing. I think Shaw may have had something to do with it. Have you heard anything that might be suspicious? Anything about someone named Jean Grey?”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t talk to me much,” she said bitterly. “And not at all about his business. I would tell you if I could.”

His eyes were warm again with concern. “Why are you with that guy, Rogue?” He reached a hand toward her face. She flinched away automatically, taking a stumbling step backwards, her back coming up hard against the horse’s flank.

He pulled his hand back, hurt and anger clouding his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she found herself saying. “I...just don’t touch me okay? No one can touch me.”

She saw him take in a deep breath, getting his emotions under control, his expression assuming a mask of indifference she hadn’t seen before. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

She felt something twist in her stomach. She had ruined it. Their…connection, friendship...whatever it had the potential to be, she had destroyed it. How had she been so stupid as to think she could have something good -- anything good? She was toxic, and damaged, and crazy.

She looked away to hide her face from him, looping the reins back over the gelding’s neck. “I should get back,” she mumbled, and swung herself back up into the saddle.

“Rogue, wait.” He held the horse’s bridle firmly, shushing him when he whickered in protest. “Will you meet me tomorrow?”

Hope and frustration warred within her, causing her voice to come out angry and harsh. “Why? What do you want from me? What’s in this for you?”

He dropped the bridle and took a step back, tension evident in his body even though his voice was oddly hesitant. “I...nothing. I don’t know. I’d just like to see you again. Talk some more.”

Now she just felt ashamed. She was acting as unstable as Sebastian told her she was. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping a hand across her eyes. “I don’t...everything is so confusing. I don’t know if I can trust anyone. I can’t even trust myself.”

His eyes were kind again, and somehow that made it hurt even more. “What has he done to you, Rogue?”

She shook her head. “I have to go. I...I’ll ride tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here.”

_________________

Shaw traced his hand up Emma’s thigh. She moaned, spreading her legs a little wider. “Greedy slut,” he whispered.

She smiled, licking her lips. “You know you love it. Don’t tell me you’d rather have some timid, virginal creature...”

The smile dropped from her face as she flushed with anger. “You bastard! Don’t you dare think of her when you’re with me.”

She lifted her arm to hit him, and he caught her wrist easily, roughly pulling it over her head. He rolled on top of her, pinning her with his body. His other hand squeezed her breast brutally, causing her to moan again, bucking up into him.

“Don’t be so temperamental, darling. It was a passing thought. You know I feel nothing for that girl.”

She groaned into his mouth, nipping at his lips. “So prove it.”

He drew back, eyes narrowing on hers. “What are you asking, Emma?”

Her legs came up around his waist, pulling him harder against her body. She reached up to kiss him again, but he pulled back farther, waiting for her answer.

Her voice was shrill with malice when she spoke. “Stop treating her like your equal. Giving her the run of the house. Treating her like she’s made of glass. She is our plaything. I want you to hurt her. And I want to watch.”

His hand glided up her neck, thumb and index finger spread to encircle her neck, pressing lightly on her pulse points. “And how will the walls you built hold up under that kind of pressure, Emma?” Her angry eyes met his, but she had no response. “So you would undo all of our planning -- just from petty jealousy?”

He ground his body down into hers, pressing firmly on her neck, watching her anger transmute to passion in response to the pain and domination. She groaned into his mouth, melting underneath him. She truly was his match. “Don’t worry, darling. She is just our vessel. You, my darling...you are my queen.”
Chapter End Notes:
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