Standing by the door, Khan watched Neema's defences rise. Her eyes hardened and her stance became more aggressive. She thought she stood a chance against him but he was going to show her. Being an Alpha meant more than just being a leader it meant he had to physically be the best in his pack. Mentally be the most advanced.

"I tried to be nice to you but if this is how I'm showed gratitude, I will stick to being cruel"

Khan had made a conscious effort over the past weeks to be gentle with Neema, to forge a relationship between them. One where he could confide in her and she do the same. His behaviour in the beginning was malicious and unjust. She knew it and he knew it. He had no real reason to treat her so abominably. She had angered him but self-control was something he was taught from a young age. He had over 200 years to learn and perfect that control, if he wanted to he could have sought another punishment but he had not. There had received a sort of perverse pleasure seeing her in that wakened state but by the next day the sight would haunt him.

The sight of her bloody skin and weepy eye was a constant reminder of the pure thing he had ruined. Shredded as if she were a piece of paper. So vulnerable. So he had tried to make amendments by spending more time with her and her siblings but very word that came from his mouth had only made the situation worse. It had not been until after she had been introduced to his pack that real change in her demeanour had begun, the bond was working. She had become more trusting with him and so he had began bending, breaking away from the harsh rules his kind had been forced to accept. He had tried to show Neema that there was more to him than the blood, gore and destruction his instincts demanded he follow.

He was trying to be more human for her and this was how she repaid him.

Her behaviour today made him see that those wolf laws and guides were there for a reason, a wolf could not become humans because then the humans would win. Wolves were the stronger specie and if his mate did not climb to his standards then he would leave her to dwell in the pits where she came from.

His mate needed discipline and not his kindness because this was how she behaved when he showed her kindness and gave her freedom. She had taken it and made a fool out of him, him, Khan Manasseh, a fool because of some weak little human.

It was embarrassing.

She needed to fear him, because when she did she just about showed affection her siblings, there was none left for his brother or the countless other males she had been spending time with. She wanted a despotic and abrasive savage who would slap her into submission and Khan was the worst of his kind.

No woman would embarrass him and live to tell the tale.

"Nice? You wouldn't know nice if it slapped you across the face. Better yet, if it gripped you by the balls. Nice is not what you are"

Neema was absolutely livid that he thought spending time with him was nice. No human would rightfully choose to be in the claws of their tormentor. Changed attitude or not. Sure he wasn't as volatile as beforehand but he still threatened her with every other sentence. Every interaction with him was stiff and forced. He coerced her into spending time with him, it was nothing like her time with Vanya or Carson. She had no choice in the matter and when they di get along it was always after an argument or before one. They were not made to be together, not as they were.

"And what Carson is nice? Is that why you threw yourself at him" he spat. As if the notion of Neema craving his brother had left a horrid taste in his mouth.

Khan was fighting all he had not to lash out and hurt her. He needed to speak first, make her understand. Violence had to be his last resort this time even if he did want to throttle her. He could not have a repeat of before. That would be the nail in the coffin to the failure of his mating.

"YES!! Carson is the loveliest kindest man I have ever met! Ever!" Reverently spoke Neema.

She didn't see Carson in any romantic light. It was purely platonic, even familial. Even so she could not deny that Carson would make the best mate and lover ever. His kind nature shone through everything he did. He was thoughtful but also demanding and bossy. He had all the qualities a woman could want in a man. With a little bit of training his body would be in prime condition. What more could a female ask for. He would be a good little provider for her little Vanya, if that was who the female chose.

"Well that is too bad because you are mine! I will make you never forget that!"

He didn't like the way she kept thinking of his brother. The male was nothing compared to his brute strength. Could she not see he was the ideal mate not Carson. The idea that she would prefer his wimpy brother over him, a strong virile man was preposterous. No woman would choose Carson if they were put in her position. His bloodline was impeccable and his strength went mostly unchallenged. What more could a female look for in a mate. She should feel humbled that she was his. For decades' females had craved his attention, many would kill to be in her position.

"Well I don't want to be yours! I wish" she panted out her voice catching in her throat.

"I wish I wasn't your mate!" She finalised.

Her words echoing off the walls, sinking through khan's mind and settling deep into his soul. Like a switch his countenance changed, from annoyed to feral. Baring his teeth he charged at Neema. His jaw twitching with rage. Neema ducked under his bulky frame, twisting her body to the right. Missing one of his claws from straying across her waist she jumped back and kicked her foot out. Instead of stumbling back Khan threw his body into the blow and gripped her leg. Pulling her towards him by the leg. His claws grappling at the tender skin of her calf.

Not wanting to surrender so quickly she began tugging at her leg. His claws digging deeper into the soft skin and tearing ropes of flesh and muscle. Placing her hands over his arms that held her leg she bent down and sunk her teeth into his forearm, penetrating his skin until the blood leaked through his white top. In her strive for survival she had become more animal than human. Her teeth throbbed and she had the bitter taste of his blood in her mouth.

The hot stinging pain of her teeth in his skin shot his body into action. Yanking his arm back from her mouth Khan analysed the mark she left. His arm pulsed in pain at the vigour she had used. This time when Neema bit him she had done it to cause damage and she had succeeded. The indent of her teeth was disfigured by the torn flesh from when he pulled his arm away. The blood dripped to the floor as the wound continued to leak.

Glancing back up at a smug Neema Khan let his control go and the red haze take over. In the back of his mind he Knew it was his mate he was fighting the same mate he had brutalised before. if he hurt Neema this time it would probably be the last chance he got, but he was to out of it to care. The small barrier between the animal and his human body snapped, there was no Khan left. Not a coherent one, all that was left was the animal and the bloodlust roaring through his veins and buzzing in his mind.

Kill, kill, kill. The words chanted in his head until all he saw was an enemy, an enemy that thought to challenge him. There would be no mate left except the chunks of flesh he left behind when he ripped the female to pieces.

He ran at her again but his time his body moved so fast Neema had barely enough time to cock her arm back before he had her gripped by her neck.

Khan's thick fingers were squeezing the life out of her, his strong arms propelling her off the ground as he strangled her. She could feel the breath leaving her. The air getting stuck in her windpipe as darkness began to descend over her eyes. Clawing at his hands she tried to loosen his grip but he wouldn't budge. Legs kicking out she tried to wedge her foot in his stomach, hoping it would be hard enough to dislodge his grasp but the weakening of her blood flow only allowed small kicks. So soft that they barely brushed his skin. Her eyes flickered as her mind begun shutting down, her organs grinding to a slow halt, her hands dropping to her sides, as her body went limp.

"You should have known you stood no chance against your Alpha" he sneered over her contorted face, his canines clawing along her cheek. She was so beautiful in her stillness. There was no fire in her eyes, there was nothing there but the dying bond and the animal he was.

Neema's eyes shot open as her hands gripped the knife in her pocket. Her arm swinging out wildly to make impact with Khan. The slice of the metal into the flesh of his arm forced him to release her. Gasping for air Neema felt water dripping from her eyes as her lungs were forced to take in the oxygen. Crouching over her knees she forced the air back into her lungs as she watched Khan from her peripheral view.

"You cut me"

Khan seemed genuinely shocked that she would retaliate. His head was twisted to the side so he could look at the scar. His fingers prodding at the fresh wound. She had actually managed to stab him and it was perplexing to his mind. How had she been able to make him bleed when not many wolves could boast the same? Only a handful of wolves could proudly admit that they had been able to hit Khan and even less could say that they had drawn blood. Neema was clearly more than she seemed.

Tossing the knife in her steady hand she smiled confidently at Khan, though her fingers were unsteady from her brush with death she felt conviction strumming into her body like the missing oxygen.

Neema was a resourceful female, she had known that Khan was not to be trusted. Or maybe he was but the wolf, the animal that was always lurking behind his eyes had given Neema reason to believe they would meet again. So she had prepared herself with training and more importantly with acquiring a weapon. The trusty knife in her hand was a pure silver knife she had found in the main kitchen she had visited with Carson. It was an oddity that it had even been there but once she had seen it she could not stop herself from grabbing it. There were no assurances in this world especially not when you had a mate like Khan.

A psychopath, who breathed and lived for violence.

The knife was a fixture in her pocket, something that she held close for the day Khans beast had enough and decided it wanted to teach his mate a lesson. But Neema was not that same weepy female anymore, she had tried being weak for Khan in hopes he would spare her but that had not worked. So now she would be strong, not for him but for herself. She would show him she was a force to be reckoned with. If he did not know before he would know after this night. She would give him a pretty scar to remember her by.

Wolves always underestimated the cunningness of a human desperate to be free.

Imitating khan's condescending smirk Neema cackled at him before lunging towards him with a new vigour. Her body swaying from side to side as she ducked his blows. Her body twisting and turning as she tried to dance out of his reach. His feet had connected with her body a couple of times. Her torn calf making it impossible for her to flit about as fast as before. The wound had slowed down her attacks but his movements had become less calculated and more fuelled by rage. Every time her knife nicked at his skin his eyes would flash with fury. The hazel of his eyes transforming into the telling red.

She gave as well as she got. Her knife finding countless opportunities to embed itself in his skin. Small shallow cuts. Not deep enough to cut through his flesh but enough to break the skin and cause blood flow. Each punch he would make she would meet with a slice of her knife. Until they both stood bloodied and bruised with exhaustion. Sweat dripping from their bodies from the exertion.

The drip drop of the blood hitting the carpet was drowned out by the harsh whooshing of them heaving for air. It was a small respite in the constant battle of wills and weapons. Khan with his extended claws and Neema with her sharp knife. Khan had torn her body with them but Neema had left a pretty map on his body. A map that trailed across his body and led to his weakness. She had one last mark to make and they would be even. An aye for an eye, or in this case a heart for a heart.

They both shot into action at the same time. Neema throwing her knife at Khan. It found its perch a little above his heart and along his pectoral. The same place he had scarred her. Khan dived at Neema the force of the collision flinging them into the bed. The crack of the spring in the bed breaking as they thudded onto the mattress. Their limbs tangled in each other and the sheets. Heads colliding together as they tumbled onto the bed. Crashing and clawing.

Wrapping his claws around Neema's neck, Khan lifted his torso off her struggling body, his lower half being the only part in direct contact with hers. The heavy weight of his thighs trapping her legs in place. Tearing the knife from where it was deeply embedded Khan gave the weapon a quick once over before he held it under her throat. The warmth of his blood dripping along her neck. The sharp metal contrasting with her soft brown skin.

"I could cut you, but you look so tempting lying under me with fire in your eyes" he hummed over her skin. The rough melodic sound wafting over her were more wolf then man but the response was the same. Her skin heated up at his words, it came alive in a way that spoke of a different kind of fight.

Licking the blood off her busted lip he sucked it into his mouth, guzzling the liquid down as if it were ambrosia. Sinking his teeth into the tender skin, then soothing it again with another suck.

"Mm let me have you" he growled.

His claws moving from around her neck to her jaw. Forcing her mouth open and licking her tongue before she could make a protest. His tongue coaxing hers to move against his. He settled his heavy body between hers, flexing his hips over her willing body. The pent up frustration had left the fight and had been channelled into a new domain. The anger was still present in the way she gripped his hair tightly enough to rip it from his skull. Or the way he gripped her jaw with enough force to leave bruises. The way their mouths fought for control, biting and nibbling on each other as their tongues delved deep.

Their bodies rose in a carnal dance of dominance and passion. The flames from the fight igniting their bodies like an inferno. Stirring passion deep in their loins like never before. Neema found her mouth wrapping around his neck as she bit into his skin, this time she was gentle making sure not to break the skin too deeply. He liked it when she bit his neck, it sent him wild with lust. Khan's hand slithered from her jaw to her hair, wrapping the wild locks around his fingers as he controlled how deep she bit. The sweet burn of her teeth in his neck setting his soul alive.

Wanting to reciprocate the action Khan forced her lips from around his neck. Tilting her head to the side he sucked on her neglected neck. The colour of his mark had begun fading. Without his fluids inside of her it had started turning shade, almost blending in with her natural skin. The sight of it infuriated him. So much so that he felt his canines lengthening as he forced them into her neck. Claiming her all over again.

Legs open and bodies thrusting the two were so wrapped in the new frenzy they found themselves in. Hands flew everywhere, tracing parts that hadn't been touched in weeks. Rocking and gyrating against each other the fight all but forgotten. Pushing against his chest Neema coaxed a reluctant Khan onto his back as she straddled his waist. Her hands flying to the scraps of material on his chest as she peppered kisses across his skin. Sucking the sweat as it formed. Flicking her eyes to his face she smirked against his skin as her eyes twinkled up at him.

"What have you done to me" he slurred out.

His hands waving around as he tried to rip her body off him, Neema tightened her thighs around his waist as she chuckled above him. He was burning up, his body shaking as he struggled to breathe. His mind was drowsy as he struggled to form coherent thoughts and push words out of his mouth. He could feel his organs slowly shutting down on him. One by one. Until the rattling of his lungs were the only thing he could clearly hear. Neema's body above him was a flickering blur. His eyesight hazy with delirium.

"Wolfsbane" she breathed out as she sucked on his bottom lip, her body still rocking in slow sensual moves against his.

Wolfsbane in small doses was used as a healing agent for both humans and wolves. The properties it boasted were both good and bad. Too much of it could poison the blood stream and cause death. Which was why only healers were allowed to use it. They could administer the right doses. Emmaline had not been aware that Neema had taken it from her office. She should have felt bad about stealing but she did not. Khan could have tried to kill her. It was kill or be killed and she had too much to live for.

"Mmm. You shouldn't have started what you could never finish" she groaned out as her body slowly stopped rocking.

She craved his body inside of hers. It was an addiction she struggled to fight. She throbbed for him. Clenching her body around his one last time she flung herself off a delirious Khan. Her calf groaning as she bent down and picked her knife off of the floor and put it in her pocket, where it belonged. Leaning over him she placed one last kiss to his lips and a pat to his chest.

"Sleep well" she threw over her shoulder as she sauntered out of the room.

That would teach him to underestimate her. He would feel like death when he eventually woke up but would find comfort in the fact that she could have killed him and didn't. It would humble all that arrogance he had. Sure she cheated but there was no manual on how to win a fight. She came out the victor and that was all that mattered.

Oh how the tables had changed. Khan lay in a pool of his own blood and when he eventually woke he would know how it felt to have his chest ripped apart