Authors note: so here is a chapter about games and some insight on who Victor really is beyond feline feral assassin/bad guy. :) enjoy read review and comment <3

You guys are awesome!!!! I love all of your comments and support. You all really inspire me to write more on this story. Awesome readers :)

Games We Play

The constant sound of claws carving into the wood lulled her deeper into the boredom. How long had it been since the last demolition of the house? Surely it wasn't three days! They couldn't possibly have not argued or fought in the last three days. She dared glance at the male sitting on the small stool beside the hearth.

His shirt was off odd in the winter and considering she thought it was chilly. He had claimed the fire was for her sake and for his sake the shirt had to go. The dark dusting of hair upon the flawless tanned skin of his torso made her eyes want to linger. She begrudgingly made her rouge eyes focus on the calm concentration he had on his face.

It reminded her of the night she met him at her fathers favorite bar. It seemed like decades ago. He was never far from her mind. She had lived so long fearing the monster that now it was odd to have a handle on her fear and realize he was just any other male.

Well almost any other male. . .

This was victor creed he was something beyond description. Not that she was trying to give him a big head or see him with blindness. He was a feral male with military training and yet remained versatile enough to hunt anything anywhere on earth. Odd mix of things.

The soft feminine sigh of bored discontentment made those pale orbs glance over to her. She sat on the couch knees hugged up to her chest. Her head laid comfortably on top with her eyes studying the enigma before her. He turned back to his work giving his own sigh of ill ease.

She wondered what went through his mind at that moment? What thoughts flitted through the shrewd machine powered by timeless instinct? She found herself being drawn into curiosity once more.

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Her sigh coupled with hours of having her gaze locked onto him made him more aware of her and how he affected her. Which was only mild curiosity. He almost felt insulted by it. Though he had to admit three days of peace and relative quite was nice after the brawls they had wages against each other since the first night they met.

Every shift of her clothing ever alight movement of her body as well as every scent leaking from her made him almost growl in need. How long did it take a female to come into estrus ? She was so close he could taste it.

He was already feeling the first stages of his own form of heat. His musk was in the first stages; heat flashes, undeniable need to show dominance, and extreme aggression/territorial tendencies. She was going through it; docility, submissiveness, and watchfulness. He smirked realizing soon she would be catching up to him.

Females started slowly into heat, you almost couldn't tell at first. Then it hit them all at once a day or so after their scent ripened.

'Soon' he thought longingly

" want to play a game?" She drawled lazily

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"No" he said giving her a wary look.

"Come on its fun." She moved closer sitting on the back of the couch.

" No" he shook his head ignoring her to concentrate on the carving once more.

" why?" She asked after a while

"If it's not a game where you end up naked beneath me I'm not interested " he explained as if explaining to a petulant child.

" it's a game of questions. I'm curious about you. Aren't you curious about me?" she stood as her expectation rose.

" not really " he said lowly.

" Oh. Well since my game holds no interest and your game is out of the question I'm heading to bed"

He was here for one thing. She had guessed as much, though she had hoped differently. She was wrong as she had been most her life. Her father never came looking for her. The same as he never stopped drinking. Her mother never got better. She didn't escape Creed and he was as much of an asshole as she thought he was.

'Typical'

She walked out of the living room heading to the bedroom. There she found herself crawling under the bed as she did when she was younger. Any small space suited her. It made her feel cozy and safe. Only there did she let out the sigh she had held.

A sigh not of boredom but complete disappointment in how the rest of her life played out before her. It was depressing and lonely while partnered to an old sociopathic whore. Hours passed as his smell and the sound of his carving lulled her to sleep where her thoughts could no longer burden her.

'I refuse to live like this forever'

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That tone, the drooping of the shoulders and the flare of some emotion in her eye. It made his gaze follow her even as his hands continued in their work. What was that? Why did he feel like he had made a massive mistake? A mistake he would pay for in the worst possible way.

Then came the small sound of disappointment. He ignored it for now concentrating on the figure coming to life in his hand. He wanted it to be a good first start to his collection of carvings. Her being the model for them.

Other more detailed ones would come for now a rough proportionate one would do. It had to be right though. So he carried on into the silent night until his body aches for rest. He still persisted in running the sand paper over the wood. It had to be just so.

. . . . .

He sighed heavily as he finally let his exhaustion show. His fingers still moved over the little figure checking for any splinters. The storm still blew outside its winds howled and it's cold seeped.

He took a deep breath as if to wake himself up. When it became obvious that it didn't help he sat the little carving down on the stone of the hearth. The little carving cast a small shadow over the stone. It was such a poor representation of his subject.

Still it calmed him to concentrate on replicating her form onto the wood. It eased his frustration from his confusion. He had to do most of the figurine by memory. Annoying. She left quite early to sleep. She was no more tired than she normally was. She broke routine.

Why had she left?

Something had motivated her to leave his presence. What had he said? Now fear had entered her scent or quickens her heart. Only slight . . . Disappointment . . . Grim acceptance. Sorrow

What had he said?

'Want to play a game' those sultry dulcet tones had drawled lowly.

'No'

'Come on its fun.' Her excitement rose at his acceptance of her game. Reminding him of her youth.

'No'

Some game to ask questions back and forth. Childish and stupid. He was never one to seek out conversation anyway. Besides he would learn all he needed to know of her with time. Time was something they both had in abundance. Had his blunt refusal hurt her feelings?

'Why?' She had asked softly.

'If it's not a game where you end up naked beneath me I'm not interested. ' he had deadpanned

She had explained the game. Hope shining in her eyes mirroring her scent.

'Aren't you curious about me?'

'Not really'

Disappointment. Sorrow. Acceptance. Fading hope.

He moved through the den checking to be sure everything was in place before he slept. He reviewed the last part of the conversation. Over and over and over again. Even as he moved to shower.

Over and over and over and over. The last part repeated itself. Scalding his mind making him distracted. Even the warm water of the shower didn't calm his mind.

The warm water cascades down his body easing the muscles. The constant sexual frustration couples with integrating himself into his females den had caused more than a few right muscles. The warmth of the water did little to ease his mind.

'Aren't you curious about me?'

'I'm curious about you.'

'Arent you . .. '

'Curious about me?'

Aren't you ..... Curious about me?'

He jerked his head away from the spray and wiped water from his eyes. Disappointment. Faded hope. Sorrow. Grim acceptance. That tone , drooping of shoulders, and the deadening of her eyes happened as reactions. Reactions to his response to that one question.

'Not really'

"Damn it" he growled lowly.

Jimmy was always better at dealing with females. Hell he even had to tell him when what he said wasn't appropriate. Or tactless. Hours later with her sulking he realized what he had done. How his words had come out and what they had made her think.

She thought he didn't want to get to know her. That he only wanted to know her as far as what was between her two legs. In the case of anyone else he could careless how they took what he said and did. Even if he came off as a tactless monster with cat like tendencies toward promiscuity. She was different. In her case he cared.

She would be around indefinitely as far as he was concerned.

He just hadn't wanted to play her stupid game. For exactly the reason he was in this shit storm of female emotions. He was piss poor at conversation and had zero filter between his brain and mouth.

His head thumped heavily against the shower wall. His claws dug into the flimsy tile material. Such a proud female would be quick to act and/or retaliate. How could he fix this? Jimmy was better at this than he was.

He didn't talk to him anymore.

"Doesn't even remember." He murmured to the shower walls.

That was the curse of his long life. Memory. The remembering and the forgetting. Both ended up being a pain in the ass. He shut off the now cold water and went into the dark bedroom. He found no trace of her besides her scent the small sounds of her heart and her breaths. She wasn't in bed though she was in fact he found underneath it.

He found himself smiling As he crouched there staring at her. Looks like it would be a cold bed tonight. His smile faded at that. Most nights he would carry her from sleeping in solitude, in the various small spaces she liked. He preferred her closeness and craved her to be near him when he slept.

Tonight wasn't most nights. Tonight he left her alone in her warm cozy space beneath the bed. Tonight he deserved to sleep alone.

How did he fix this?

'Not like I don't know her enough already. . .' He mused silently as he let sleep take him.