Even this early in the morning Max could feel the edge of the full moon stir her blood, bringing the heat that pulsed in her veins and called her to run. Overcast and grey, the clouds outside swirled slowly above as a brief gale force wind howled through the trees. There was a crack of thunder in the distance and then the clouds quickly dissipated. Max smiled to herself, remembering Ororo's pronouncement in the medical bay - it seemed like a lifetime ago.

"What's got you up so early?" Logan murmured, nuzzling her shoulder.

"Memories." Max replied quietly.

She'd almost forgotten her mother's face entirely. So many beloved faces had faded over time in her memory, and she hadn't even realized it. Her father's face snapped into sudden clarity - all anger and rigid lines. Why did she always have to sharply remember the bad stuff? Her older sister's shrieks as their father imposed the conjugal duties that his wife was no longer there to fulfill upon his own seed. She winced and turned away, wanting to block the memory out again.

"Bad ones, I take it?" he rumbled, putting an arm around her and pulling her to him. He didn't like thinking of her in distress, no matter the cause. He could smell it on her. Something was really bugging her - hurting her.

Max let out a weak laugh, laying her arm across his. "Yeah."

She began talking then, a slow stream of words at first that, as they gathered steam, began flowing from her lips like a bitter wind. As he held her, she explained the circumstances that caused her to flee the only life she'd ever known. Her brother's dalliance with the human before he'd killed and eaten parts of him, and her father's consequent rage after the incident. It had been a truly terrifying thing to behold.

He'd tied and nailed her brother Zane up to an enormous tree trunk behind their house for four days afterwards, letting the elements take their savage toll on him. He wouldn't allow Max or her brothers near him to provide him sustenance of any kind, and they could only watch as Zane grew weaker, day by day - his spirit slowly dying within him.

As if that hadn't been bad enough, after he'd let the boy down, her father had whipped him within an inch of his life, flaying huge strips of skin and muscle from Zane’s back with a leather scourge with cruel shards of glass and metal braided into the ends. The fierce joy in her father's expression as he took to his odious task was a sight that Max only hoped that she would someday forget.

Zane was never quite the same after that - and he never seemed to heal completely. Her brother was utterly broken back to a primal state that only knew fear, survival and hunger. He refused to come back inside the house, and chose to stay in wolf form permanently - living in the woods as their ancestors had. He'd shy away from her or his other siblings unless they came to him in fur, and even then he was hesitant - smelling the turn on them.

Their mother had left shortly afterwards, unable to bear the dark, visceral transformation of the strong, loving Alpha that she'd mated her soul to - and the loss of her son. The anguish in her mother's eyes at having to make such a decision wrecked Max for years after. Breaking such a strong bond sometimes drove one, if not both of the mates briefly insane.

To this day, Max still didn't understand why her mother didn't stay and fight for her own cubs. She'd never really forgiven her, but had never stopped loving her - or needing her love in return.

Her father started attacking and raping her sister Reya as a substitute for the woman who’d shattered what was left of his blasted heart. 'Spurned him', he'd called it.

"Got to have a woman to take care of them mating needs, and since your mother ain't here no more, one of you bitches is gonna fuckin' well stand in." he'd declared boldly after that first night, almost as if daring them to do anything about it.

Max remembered being violently sick for an hour after she quietly tended to Reya when their father finally left her alone and drifted off to sleep outside.

The bruises and bitemarks had faded from her sister's skin as Max rocked Reya gently in her arms, but that haunted stare was proof of damage deep enough to stay for years - if not a lifetime. She remembered the looks of pain on the faces of her brothers when Reya had quickly shaken her head, shrinking away from them as they'd reached out in their attempts to comfort her.

One night Max, united with five of her remaining brothers, tried to protect Reya – to stand against the old bastard, but the Alpha was a hard man who'd seen well over his share of conflict. He'd been too strong - and coupled with the fact that he was sliding quickly into insanity, it apparently gave him the extra edge he'd needed to crush the life out of three of her brothers before her eyes.

Her face burning in shame, Max remembered how she'd fled the house that very night – choosing the wilderness, and even the world of the Pinks beyond over the life ruled by the dark, black-hearted creature her father had become.

Unfortunately, her father had always had all the connections with the other Packs and tribes. He was still a well respected Alpha - as was the father of the girl she'd slaughtered at her first, and only Buck - and Max hadn’t thought she’d be well received into another regional Pack.

Turnskins tended to remember slights for a good, long time, and anybody who'd gotten word about what had happened at her first Buck would likely just turn her back out into the night, if not worse. She'd endured her punishment, but in some clans and Packs, that would never be enough to make up for what she'd taken.

Logan felt himself take that slow slide up to the killing edge as he listened to the anguish in her voice. Man that'd do that to his own family needs to be put the fuck down. Logan mused to himself, his mouth a harsh, thin line as Max finished her gruesome tale. She was shaking and he could almost taste the scent of tears, but she was holding back for some reason. He wasn't quite sure why.

"Seven years." Logan murmured softly. "You think yer old man's still kickin around?"

Max took a slow, shaky breath, thinking about it. "Honestly? I have no idea. I can only hope that Reya and the boys were able to get away the hell away from him at some point." Now the tears came, along with a thin, uncertain tone that made his heart ache.

"Ah, shit, Logan. I just ran. I didn't even stay to help." Max choked, realizing that she was so very much like her mother in this. She had no right to be angry at what the woman had done in the name of self preservation, considering.

He frowned as he felt her curling in on herself, just holding her as she let it out. A rather large part of him wanted to hunt the man down and feed him his own entrails, inch by inch - starting with the bowel and working his way up. It was the only thought that comforted him as he felt his mate finally let go and fall apart.

As the last of her hitched breaths came, and she started breathing easier, Logan leaned in and murmured, "Better?" as he nuzzled her shoulder.

Max nodded, realizing that - yeah - she did feel better now. Being able to share it with somebody and letting go about it had been a remarkable purgative. She still felt guilty for leaving - for just running. Was there anything else she could've done?

As if reading her thoughts, Logan rumbled, "He'd just have killed you if you stayed, Max."

Or worse. Max shuddered, feeling Logan tighten against her back. He likely knew where her thoughts had gone and was reacting.

Max let out a nervous laugh and muttered, "Christ, when did life get so goddamned dramatic all of a sudden?" Logan remained silent and she softly murmured, "You want to hunt him now."

Logan pressed his forehead to her shoulder. "You know me too goddamned well."

"I think he'd give even you a run for your money, Logan." Max breathed, remembering how quickly - and fatally - her father had struck her brothers down.

She could almost feel his smile as his scent became sharper.

"No shit?" he asked, interested now.

Max turned in his arms, facing him. "I think that if he's still among the living, you'd take him down eventually, but he'd seriously put a hurtin' on you beforehand."

Logan grinned then, his tone heated. "Hell, that's almost worth the price of fuckin' admission right there."

"New moon. It's when we're at our weakest." Max replied, meeting his gaze. "If you're gonna do it, do it then." Logan raised an eyebrow as she added, "But I'm coming with you."

He frowned, his expression growing dark. "The fuck you are. You're pregnant, 'case you fergot. You can't shift."

"Then I guess you'll have to wait until after I've kitted." She replied mildly, her eyes hard.

"Difficult, obstinate bitch." he grumbled halfheartedly.

Max relaxed, smiling now. "You always know just what to say."

The idea definitely held a strong appeal for him. Battle against a solid opponenent that could hold his own against him was always exciting. He rarely had opportunities to push himself in direct combat against a single foe, and it was easy enough to tear through flesh and bone, grinding teams of people into meat when they couldn't regenerate or maneouver as quickly as he could. Scott and Piotr had given him unique sparring opportunities, but the possibility of going up against someone that was so very much like him - where he could truly open up and go all out on them? Where he didn't have to worry about holding back?

It was almost irresistible.

Max was looking for retribution and reassurance in this - but for Logan it would be so much more sublime. He wouldn't be any less vicious, but there would be a visceral grace to it that sent a shiver up his spine. The dark place in his psyche fluttered briefly, wanting to be let out to play. Oh yeah. Good times. he grinned as he let his thoughts roam.

Christ. If only he didn't have to wait.

Not wanting to let himself get completely carried away, he yanked his focus back to Max - who was still smiling back at him, likely knowing exactly where his head had been.

"Four months and change, eh?" he muttered. It was a pain in the ass, but he could be patient.

Max laughed and leaned into him, very effectively distracting his thoughts towards another activity entirely for a time.

--

When she finally woke up again, Logan was no longer beside her. She wondered if he'd decided to take the Professor up on his offer. Max gave a brief stretch before padding downstairs in search of food. She was suddenly ravenous. As she was pawing through the refrigerator, Hank walked in.

"Salutations Maxine! How fare you on this fine afternoon?" he asked, his smile easy and open. She really was growing very fond of him.

"Must have liver. Do we have any fresh liver?" She'd have to start stocking up so that there'd be some readily available in the future. She'd take refrigerated, but the wolf preferred to eat it fresh out of the carcass. At least she hadn't spent a portion of the morning voiding the contents of her stomach again. From what she'd been lead to understand, morning sickness sort of came and went when it so desired. It was a real pain in the ass like that.

Hank frowned, musing, "Are you perhaps in need of some iron? I believe I have some supplements that will.."

Max cut him off, shaking her head. Nothing in the fridge appealed to her, but she was going to chew her own arm off if she didn't get at least one of the needed food craving items damned soon. Her stomach growled, loud enough for Hank to hear it.

"No - I've gotta have the liver itself, and it has to be fresh." she explained, wondering how she was going to acquire fresh innards when she couldn't get furry. Usually the Alpha male provided the comfort and craving food for their mate during this period so that the female wouldn't have to go without. If he wasn't available, other beta males in the Pack would address the need. Here, she didn't have that surety.

Still, she could probably run fast enough to hunt one of the hinds in the surrounding woods down and butcher it with her hands. She wondered if there was a sharp and strong enough knife in one of the drawers.

She looked up at Hank and asked, "How attached would you say the professor is to the deer around here?"

Hank looked back at her, stricken. "My dear girl, are you proposing to go out and..? My god. The very idea."

Max laughed and replied, "I'm a wolf, Hank - or at least a large part of me is. And she needs raw liver. Or intestines." She didn't really know how to delicately phrase it. It was what it was.

She could've sworn that Hank blanched slightly, but it was hard to tell through all that blue fur.

--

"Is there any particular reason that you have such an urgent need at this very moment?" Charles asked, curious.

Max looked away, nervous now. She didn't really want to tell anybody yet. Once she started showing obvious signs, she'd explain, but for the moment it was too personal - something she only wanted to share with her mate.

"It's a craving that the..wolf is experiencing. Sometimes she just has to have certain foods." Max explained. It sounded lame, even to her.

Charles raised an eyebrow, then looked mildly surprised for a moment. "Max, would you be so kind as to close the door?" he murmured.

She quickly moved to do so, then turned back to him. "You know, don't you?" she asked quietly.

He nodded and looked somewhat chagrinned. "Unfortunately, there are times where thoughts become almost too loud to block out. When are you due?"

Max silently cursed telepaths in general, then sighed and sat down in the chair before his desk. "It should take about four months."

Xavier blinked, then steepled his hands. "A very interesting development. Are you quite sure that it'll happen that quickly?" he asked.

Max placed a hand on her stomach, already starting to feel the first blush of the large belly she'd soon be sporting. "That's how long it usually takes us," she replied.

Xavier's tone became soft as he then asked, "I don't mean to sound impolitic, but how many offspring do your kind usually have?"

Max gave him a nervous smile. "Most of us just kit one cub at a time. There have been instances of litters though, rare as they are."

"Oh my." Charles murmured.

There was a sharp rap on the door before it opened and Logan's head popped in. He looked over at the two of them and said, "I can come back later."

"No - Logan, do come in." Xavier replied, leaning back in his chair.

He stepped inside, then frowned as he closed the door and looked over at Max. "Shit." he muttered. "Can't keep nothin' a secret in this place, eh?"

"I want you both to feel free to avail yourself of the game in the woods for as long as Max needs it." Xavier replied softly. "Just - please try to keep from thinning out the local deer herd completely."

Logan blinked and said, "There somethin' I need to know?"

Max turned and said, "We get certain..unusual cravings. Raw liver, fresh hart intestines and blood sausage. 'The holy trinity of Turnskin food cravings' as my aunt Samantha used to call it."

She stood up and explained, "I was going to go see if I could run one down in pink skin.."

Logan crossed his arms and eyed her, his tone neutral. "Liver and innards are easy enough. Where the hell are we gonna get blood sausage?"

Xavier replied, "I believe I can find a distributor that can have it delivered to the mansion, if that helps."

Logan nodded, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he met the man's eyes. "That works." He looked over at Max and said, "You're gonna put on a set a clothes you don't mind wreckin' and come with me. No sense in making anybody here nauseous by bringin' that crap into the house for you to eat. 'Sides it's better direct, anyway."

He then cocked his head and asked, "You gonna eat the rest of it as well, or are we gonna have venison on the menu for the next four months solid?"

"Between the two of us, we should be able to wreck a carcass if you don't bring down an enormous buck." she murmured.

"Go get changed." he growled as he walked over to her. Max smiled, liking it when he got all bossy. "I got a couple things I gotta talk about with the Prof, then we'll head out."

She nodded and looked over at Xavier who was watching their interaction with a great deal of interest. "Thanks, Professor. I really appreciate this. And - please, don't tell anybody else? I'd rather let people know in my own time."

Charles gave her a small smile and nodded, "Of course, Max. And congratulations."

She blushed, then darted out of the room.

Logan hooked his thumbs in his pockets as he looked back at Xavier. "First class went well enough, I think. I scare the hell out of most of 'em." he explained. "I'm startin' 'em out basic, but some of 'em need more discipline than others."

Logan had been surprised at the feelings that had come up in him during the training exercises. He'd never had much use for kids before, and at first it was hard to keep from running them dry like a drill instructor would. The minor complaints that some of the brats had were quickly silenced when the claws came out. They all shut the hell up and did what he asked at that point.

They'd listened intently to all he had to say after that, and he could see that by the end of the session that several of them were actually interested. Like they were looking forward to coming back to train with him again. They came in all shapes, colors and sizes - literally. Some of the kids with more extreme body mutations couldn't move the way the rest of the bipedals could and he started thinking of a way for them to best defend themselves, given their range of movement. It'd take a little time, but he'd come up with something.

"You're probably gonna get a couple complaints about me." he stated, matter of factly.

Xavier smiled and leaned back into his seat. "I imagine I will."

"That gonna be a problem?" Logan asked, his tone careful.

"Only if you actually injure one of the children badly - aside from the basic bruising and torsion that the body takes when engaging in such activities." Charles replied, wanting to let him set his own pace for the course. It was the only way that this would actually work.

"Good." Logan grunted, feeling a little better about the situation. Charlie wasn't going to rein him in or keep him on a choke chain, and that allowed him to get as creative or rough as he wanted to, within reason. Granted, they were kids, so he'd definitely pull punches and take it easy on them in some instances, but he was certain that many of them would end up hating him.

The thought made him smile.

People always hated the instructors who forced them to learn to save their own asses at first.

--

Max wiped the blood from her chin, the wolf inside finally sated. Good god, but they'd torn through the carcass faster than she thought they would. There were still several sizeable hunks of meat left, but she figured they could leave those for the rest of the animals in the woods to fare on. She didn't know how sparse food got in the winters around here, and wanted to insure that the other animals got a chance to eat as well as she did. The body was far enough back from the mansion that one of the kids wouldn't stumble upon it, and it was still on the property so locals wouldn't walk up on it and freak out.

She grinned over at Logan who was laying back on a bed of rust colored leaves, his hands behind his head.

"Thank you." she murmured, crawling over to him and laying down beside him.

He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze. "What kinda man would I be 'f I didn't provide?"

She laughed softly, nuzzling him. They were both smeared liberally with the blood of their kill, and she wondered what the rest of the denizens of the mansion would make of the sight that they'd make as they headed back in. At least the people here were used to the wierdness.

"One of us really should've brought a towel along." she pointed out.

Logan grinned quietly beside her as she added, "You know that the kids refer to you as 'the scary man' already, right? Walking in drenched in blood isn't going to help change that perception."

He laughed and said, "I ain't here to be friends with those kids. I'm here to teach 'em how to defend themselves. I ain't gotta be Mr. Nice Guy about it."

Max chuckled softly and replied, "So you took him up on it?"

"Yeah." He murmured before telling her about the kid in the parking lot from the night before.

"You're a good man, Logan." she breathed, placing her hand on his chest.

He looked over at her, his brow furrowed. "You ain't seen my bad side yet."

"Baby, everybody has a bad side. Granted, yours is probably a little more homicidal than most, but at heart - you're a good man."
Before he could respond, she added, "And if you weren't a good man before - you're becoming a good man. So stow it."

Logan grunted, pulling her into a kiss.

"Thank you." he whispered in a shaky breath.

He was almost startled at how strongly he reacted to hearing those words from her.

A good man. Never thought I'd be 'a good man'. In anybody's eyes. he mused silently as he placed his nose against her neck, reveling in her scent - her reassuring presence. Although he'd never been much of a prayin' man, he sent out a quiet prayer of thanks to whatever had intervened to bring them together. She'd as much as saved him from himself.

Go back to Chapter 19 - Go to Chapter 21

To reiterate: MARVEL owns the rights to most of the elements in this story. Max, and her subsequent backstory, is my own creation, but everything else is either sub-canon, or warped canon yanked from the X-Men storyline.