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A Northern Tale	By : WolverMean Category: X-men Comics > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2061 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: X-Men and its characters belong to Marvel and I make no money from this publication. This is for fun only. The rest are my own creations. Trigger warnings for dubious consent, violence, blood and gore. Any and all mistakes are my own.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
There's no need to fear me
Darling, I love you as you are when you're alone
I'll never try to change you
As if I could, and if I were to, what's the part that I'd miss most?
When you're smiling and astride me
I can hardly believe I've found you and I'm terrified by that
- When You're Smiling and Astride Me by Father John Misty

Victor

She was gone.
Gone.
Victor snarled, his claws gouging the tree closest to him. It creaked ominously and he leapt away with a growl, keeping his nose to the air, hoping to catch her scent.
He’d woken up and she was gone, her bedroll cold and empty.
Evra was still wary about bedding down with him, claiming her own space when she’d had her fill of him. Sometimes Victor would follow, but ferocious snarls and swipes from Evra always sent him skittering back to his side of the fire. Normally, he wouldn’t take rejection from a frail—not even a feral female—but Evra was different. When her alpha strength reared its head, it would cause the hair on the back of Victor’s neck to stand up.
His beast was being cautious, letting him know that Evra had serious power, possibly equal to his own. Victor knew she was fierce and independent but he hadn’t expected her to just fucking get up and leave. Not so soon after they’d been mated.
Goddammit.
He was unable to catch her scent due to her ability to shield herself and that enraged him even further, his roar booming through the forest as he came to yet another dead end. Snarling, he turned around and headed back towards camp.
As Victor sat, he recalled the conversation they’d had the night before, Evra demanded to know why the smell of Olive and Jasmine’s death clung to him. He’d been flippant with her, asking why she cared all of a sudden when the scents had been on him for days.
Evra became angry and when he told her that Jasmine and Olive had been members of The Family, she accused him of being a liar. He demanded that she scent him; the fact he was being honest sent Evra into another rage.
Victor had turned her anger into lust and they spent most of the night wrapped around each other, their cries filling the air around them.
He hadn’t been completely honest with Evra; yes, Jasmine and Olive had been members of The Family, but he wasn’t going to tell her that both women had gone to their deaths thinking they were protecting Evra. They had loved and cared for her, wanting only what was best for the female alpha feral.
The women were complications that would have possibly kept Evra from him and there was no way he could’ve allowed that to happen. So, what else could have possibly—
Jesus fuck. The doctor.
Doctor Remy fucking Laurent.
Victor almost laughed at loud at his own goddamn stupidity. Of course Evra’d want to say goodbye to the handsome Acadian, the last remaining tie to her home. Fuck, he’d been so dumb.
Remy Laurent was too weak to hold on to a woman like Evra and the doctor knew it. That’s why it had taken him so damn long to hint as his feelings for the kid; so long that someone else—Victor—had already claimed her. The little beat in his chest that was his mate ‘s heart was still thudding hard and strong. Their bond was still solid.
Victor did laugh then—Evra was coming back. She had to.
But if worse came to worse, she had two days and then Victor would go get her himself—and bring all hell with him.

Dr. Remy Laurent

Rain had finally come, extinguishing the fire that had rage through Fort McMurray. Most of the town and the surrounding forest had burned, leaving many families without a place to live.
A makeshift shantytown appeared, people erecting canvas tents or lean-tos, anything that could provide a modicum of shelter. It was still summer, but the rain had brought a dampness that seemed to be sticking around.
The train had been packed the past week, loaded down with more and more folks eager to help, wanting to stamp their name on the rebirth of a dead place. That meant more and more people Dr. Remy had to treat, whether they broke their thumb with a hammer or came down with a cold thanks to the soggy conditions.
The only bright thing in Remy’s life at the moment was Marty. The badly beaten man—mostly healed by Evra’s powers—had woken, looking and feeling so much better. So much so in fact, he was already pitching in and helping Remy, cooking food or keeping the cabin clean.
Christian, the boy from The Family, had been trapped during the fire, unable to find or connect with the group and Remy wasn’t about to tell the kid that they were all probably already dead, if not by Victor’s hand, then by Evra’s.
It began to seem to Remy that the boy had made the decision to stick around, also helping out where and when he could. It certainly helped that the kid only had eyes for Marty, much to Sophie’s chagrin.
Some of Madame’s girls had headed north to Fort Chipewyan after the fire was out; others had gone towards Calgary. A few were still hanging around Remy’s cabin, camping in tents provided by the trading post.
Remy had taken in a majority of Madame’s girls when it was clear the fire was spreading north; he felt they’d all be safe in his south side cabin, a half-hour’s walk away from the town. He’d slept outside the first few nights, amid the smoke and distant crackling of flames, so the girls could cram themselves into his small place.
The girls had been extremely grateful; some tried to thank Remy the only way they knew how until he made it clear that he wasn’t interested in repayment, only in their safety.
That was then the girls started doing his laundry, sewing his clothes, doing whatever else they could to show their appreciation. One of the girls even gave Remy a long overdue haircut.
He was secretly grateful they’d found other ways to thank him. The allure of sexual pleasure had almost been too much for him to refuse but he wouldn’t allow himself to give in to temptation.
Though the flames may have been put out, he feared the anger and desire that still burned deep and hot within him. They were intense and painful, causing his stomach to cramp or his lungs to suddenly empty of air.
Remy was afraid that he’d hurt someone, take the emotions out on a woman who didn’t deserve it. Sophie had already suffered at his hands; he’d delivered a hard slap to her China doll face because she wouldn’t stop snivelling and crying. The poor girl had every right to feel the way she did—she’d lost the only home she’d ever known—but her non-stop sniffling and weak nature had enraged Remy until his hand met her cheek.
He’d immediately tended to her, fetching a cold cloth and kissing her flushed face until she fell asleep in his lap, but the emotion behind the slap had scared him.
Remy had slapped Sophie because she wasn’t Evra and the fact Sophie was here instead of Evra infuriated him.
His attempts to soothe Sophie were superficial at best. He’d intended to do so much more to her; make her feel his wrath because she wasn’t who he wanted her to be.
He felt like a monster.
Since that moment, Remy spent a lot of time behind the woodshed, either chopping enough wood to fuel a small city or jerking off while thinking of Evra. Both were excellent ways to rid himself of that poisonous anger before he could face the world, like taking a shot of morphine to make the edges of the world less sharp.
The evening found him out back again, decimating logs into tolerable pieces when he felt something shift behind him. He stood straight and wiped the sweat from his eyes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and he was about to turn back to his self-inflicted chore when he felt it once more.
It flicked around the corner of his eye, like a shadow sent dancing by the flames of a fire. Remy turned back again, and again, there was nothing there. Irritated and curious, he drove the axe into the chopping block and took a few steps towards the edge of the forest.
“Bonjour,” Remy called softly into the woods. “C’est un ours?”
He was half-joking but a small part of him wished that is was an angry bear that would rear up and kill him, taking away the nightmares of the torn and brutalised corpses in Coalspur and those of Victor and Evra fucking in the middle of the street, their naked and sweaty bodies bracketed by dead men.
He sighed and ran a hand over his face, his fingers rasping over the stubble that covered his chin and cheeks. It was time for a shave, though Sophie told him that she and a few of the other women around the cabin were enjoying the look of the soft auburn bristles.
Chuckling to himself, Remy turned and was about to head back to the shed when the crack of a branch made him jump and whip around.
Evra.
He blinked a few times to clear his vision; surely he was hallucinating. Evra had gone nearly a week ago without so much as a goodbye, instead leaving behind a trail of bloodied and battered dead men.
“Remy.”
Startled, he took a step back and really focused on what was standing in front of him.
Evra.
She was about twenty feet away, dressed in her usual outfit of trousers and a shirt paired with a tattered brown vest. She said his name again and he took another step back.
“You come to kill me now, Kit?” Remy sneered.
Evra’s face, which had been soft, hardened immediately and he enjoyed a moment of joy at having upset her. “I jus’ came t’ say goodbye, Remy.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Bit too for dat late, non?”
She let out a breath through her nose and looked away, towards the town, towards the destruction, towards where Remy had lost all hope and caring. “I meant to,” she said softly. “I meant to, but—“
Remy curled his hands into fists. “You promise t’ find me,” he replied harshly as he stepped closer. “You don’ come; I get inquiet. I come lookin’ for you an’ what do I see? You fuckin’ Creed da middle of da street like a foutu animal. I guess havin’ ‘is cock inside you was more important den makin’ sure Marty an’ I were okay, huh?”
He expected more anger, a slap, anything, but he was surprised when she started to laugh.
“That’s what you’re upset about?” Evra said disbelievingly. “You’re mad because I left without a fond farewell? You an’ Marty was safe, Remy; I could smell it, so I went before I was killed.
“But you’re mad that I didn’t come an’ fall at your feet, renouncin’ any connection I have to Victor? You’re angry ‘cause I didn’t agree to become your pretty, perfect wife during the day an’ your dirty little whore at night? That’s what you wanted?”
Remy stiffened. She was twisting it; she was twisting what he wanted. Of course he had wanted her to reconsider whatever sick, twisted thing she had with the large blonde man, of course he’d wanted her to come to him, love and desire him as much as he did her, but not like that. Why was she making it sound so warped, so perverse?
“Pah,” Remy spat, his gut boiling hot with rage. “ It don’ matter no more. You a killer now, runnin’ wit dat animal. You align yourself wit’ a mad man, Kit an’ I ain’t got time for you no more.” He turned on his heel and managed to make it two steps before she spoke.
“Bullshit,” Evra said harshly. “You know about Daniel, an’ you still wanted me. You don’t care that I slaughtered a few more men; they were bad people, gonna rape me, use me for feral bait, so damn right I killed ‘em. Given half th’ chance, I’d fuckin’ kill ‘em again.
“Nah, you ain’t mad that I’m a killer. You’re mad ‘cause I left with Victor an’ didn’t kiss you goodbye.”
The slap was hard, but it barely moved her; Remy’s hand stung like a son of a bitch and he wondered for a split second if he’s broken it. It hadn’t felt good, not like when he’s slapped Sophie. In fact, it soured his stomach, knotted his gut but he still couldn’t stop the desire he felt for her, the hot rush of need that clenched his groin.
“I smell your lust for me, Remy,” Evra said, her eyes glittering. “You still want me, so come here an’ kiss me.”
He flexed his hand, still hurting from the contact. “You t’ink you can jus’ come back here an’ demand t’ings of me?”
“Yes.”
Evra looked so fierce, so goddamn confident, so fucking irresistible that Remy couldn’t help himself. Muttering a curse in French, he grabbed her and pulled her against him. Their mouths clashed together angrily, tongues hot and greedy as they met.
Remy couldn’t lie anymore. As soon as their lips parted, he whispered, “I do wan’ you, Evra. Mon dieu, I wan’ you so badly.”
Her fingers deftly undid his trousers and he hissed when her nails scraped along his hipbone. He was about to snidely ask her about Victor, but when her hand closed around his hard cock, the thought vanished completely.
“This is how you wanted me to say goodbye, isn’t it?” Evra demanded, looking into his eyes. “Because this is th’ only men want from me.”
“Non,” Remy whispered. “You have it wrong; you have it all wrong!”
“Then what’s it like, Doctor Laurent?”
Evra didn’t give him a chance to respond; she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth, her tongue smooth and firm as it worked down the underside of his shaft.
“Fuck!” Remy gasped.
Her mouth was amazing, hot and wet, and when she took him as deep as she could, he couldn’t help the long, lewd moan that slipped from his lips. Remy softly placed a hand on her head, gently grasping her rust coloured hair in his fingers.
Her green eyes were intense as she looked up at him, and combined with the suction of her mouth and her slippery, devilish tongue, Remy began to feel his legs shake. It had been so long since he’d had this kind of pleasure. Sure, he could make himself come with a few firm tugs and a dirty thought, but it was different with someone else; it was different with Evra.
“Kit,” he panted. “I’m goin’ t’—“
Remy couldn’t get the words out before he came, his warm seed filling her mouth, his cry echoing through the forest. It felt like he were coming forever and her fingernails dig into the flesh of his ass as he continued to ejaculate. His trembling legs seemed unable to hold him upright, and after Evra coaxed the last of his come from his cock and removed her mouth, they gave out, bringing Remy to his knees.
“Christ, Kit,” Remy gasped, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “I don’—“
“That’s all you men ever want!” She was enraged, her eyes fiery. “I thought better of you, Remy, I’m nothin’ but a whore t’ you too. Seein’ me fuck Jasmine, seein’ me fuck Victor and bein’ mad that you weren’t gettin’ a piece of my pussy—“

Remy grabbed her shoulders. “Non,” he yelled, startling her. “It’s not like dat; I’m not like dat! I love you Kit, an’ I jus’ wanted you t’ love me too. An’ when you didn’—it hurt an’ I was mad. Dat wasn’ right of me. You’re your own person; you make your own decisions, not me an’ not Creed, we don’ make ‘em for you. I don’ own you and neither does he.”
Evra’s face crumpled. Remy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, stroking her hair as she buried her face against his neck.
“I’m jus’ a dirty ol’ man,” he said with a chuckle as he started to rock them back and forth. “Look at me, thinkin’ a young t’ing like you would—“ The press of her mouth on his startled him and he grabbed her shoulders, pushing her away. “Kit, no,” Remy gasped. “Dis isn’t what I wan’. I mean dat.”
It was then Evra started to cry. “Remy,” she wept, “I do love you. I love Jasmine an’ I love you an’ I’m all confused by what Victor’s makin’ me feel … I don’t know how t’ show you my love other than with fuckin’ an’ you don’t want that—“
“No, I don’,” Remy said firmly, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “Right now, in dis moment, your words are enough, d’accord?”
He kissed her temple softly as she hiccupped, her tears beginning to slow. “What about in other moments?”
Remy laughed and cupped her face. “Tell you what, Kit,” he said with a smile. “You find a diff’rent way t’ show dat you love me an’ you find me. I don’ care if I’m an old man at death’s door, you come an’ find me an’ show me dat love.”
Evra smiled and gave a muffled laugh as he kissed her temple again. “Okay,” she said, her voice thick with emotion."I promise, Remy. And this time I mean it.”
Remy thought his heart would burst, not because she’d made a promise or confessed her love for him, but because she meant it and Remy knew this was one promise she was going to keep.
He would see Evra Kitney again.

Evra

It had only taken a day to get back to Victor; she’d sped through the woods, running and leaping, anxious to start the new life that waited for her, anxious to be with the man who was her mate.
Mate.
The word sounded to foreign to Evra’s ears. She was still unsure how it had happened because she had the bite she’d given him was innocuous—or so he claimed. Victor hadn’t bitten her either, at least, not that she recalled, and her beast had been so adamant at first that he was not her mate.
Then suddenly, they were?
Evra shook the thoughts away. She didn’t understand how it worked and besides, did it matter? She and Victor were together now and they were going to see everything.
She was excited.
The fire was low as Evra made her way to where they’d bedded down a few days ago. She was relieved that Victor hadn’t moved on without her as she pulled back the blankets and slid in next to him.
He grumbled but rolled over and threw his arm over her, pulling her against his body. “Hey, kid,” he whispered gruffly. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too,” Evra whispered back.
A thrill ran through her as Victor kissed her hard and rolled her onto her back. Sure, she didn’t know how to express her love other than by spreading her legs, but wasn’t what part of this journey was about? She was going to discover how to love with Victor; she just knew it.
They wouldn’t have been mated otherwise … right?
“Mine.” Victor growled as he pushed himself into her.
Evra forgot what she was thinking about.
It was probably unimportant away.

Sophie
What a bunch of fools.
What a bunch of fucking fools.
She had sent a letter warning Gunner not to come, but he was such a big, virile, fearless man, he stormed the fucking castle and most of the men had ended up dead—all because a man wouldn’t take orders from a slit.
Sophie knew that’s what the men called her behind her back: a slit, a whore, a cunt. It angered her only because those were names they would never use against their precious Jasmine, the beautiful Irish lass with the bright smile and soft red hair.
A lot of good it did them in the end when Jasmine turned out to be a dyke. Oh god, how Sophie had laughed and laughed when she’s sent along that letter, exposing their treasured Jasmine as a pussy lover.
So, she let the men call her all sorts of names and sucked their cocks when they asked, but never spread her legs for them. She’d let Victor Creed have that honour, and the knowledge she’d fucked a feral right under their very noses thrilled her whenever she brought it to mind.
Sophie let them think she was dumb and vapid but when it came down to it, she was the one who got things done.
Sophie was the one who’d found the delicious doctor’s notebook and hidden it upon her person. Sophie was the one who discovered Gunner, his tongue a lump of red meat on the floor beside him, his neck sliced from ear to ear. Sophie had been the one to hide the fool and nurse him back to health, stealing supplies from Remy when he was distracted. Sophie had been the one to get Gunner on the train with the doctor’s notebook to make sure it got into the right hands.
In the end, it had all been worth it as she clutched the letter in her hands, the letter from the leader of The Family, the man who sent Sophie’s heart fluttering and set her loins alight.
Dearest Sophie,
You have been a valuable and indispensable addition to our Family; your intelligence and bravery have been valiant in the face of our common enemy. Your discovery of Doctor Laurent’s mysterious notebook have been an incredible and beneficial to my research.
It has been discussed and your mission is to remain with the kind doctor until further notice. Your letter has given me the impression that we have not seen the last of Victor Creed, nor of this alpha female. From now on, please report to me directly.
Sophie, my dear one, you have earned my eternal gratitude.
Yours faithfully forever,
Doctor Nathaniel Essex
She held the letter to her chest and kissed it once before tucking it into her bodice.
No one would ever dare call Sophie a slit or a whore or a cunt ever again.
- 5
- 6
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A Northern Tale