THREE

She had little time to hide the knife in her own petticoats when she heard a soft knock on the door. Startled, she dashed to the bed and hid the knife under a pillow, then she tried to steady her breathing, but when the knock sounded again, her heart still jumped. Giving up, she went over to the door and opened it, regretting her move immediately, she could at least have asked who it was.

   It was four servants from the inn, carrying a tub and several pails of water, one was steaming hot. She remembered what the other rogue had said when he left her at the door, that water would be brought for her to bath, and she tried to still the erratic beat of her heart, but she just couldn't.

   What if the servants were here to kill her? Perhaps that was a new werewolf method -- kill people in their baths -- a new rogue method, she amended, ashamed of insulting the nature of her mate.

  ''There is a bar of soap on the vanity my lady, but if you do not like that one, we can have another brought for you.' One of the servants was saying, and Shira had to concentrate to even understand what he said.

   She shook her head. ''It is all right. I'm sure I would like that one very much.''

   The man who had spoken earlier shrugged, and they all began to file out. She noticed that he was human.

   At first, she did not want to take a bath simply because she had been asked to do so by the rogues. After all, it was simple logic to do the opposite of what her enemies had asked her to do, but -- the journey had been a long one, she was tired, and all her bones ached. The steamy hot bath did not seem so uninviting.

   Giving in to the temptation, she pulled off her clothes and got into the bath. It felt even better than she thought would. She had to step out a bit to reach for the vanity. The bar of soap was there as the servant had said, and she wondered why she hadn't seen it before.

   As she rubbed it against her skin, marvelling in it's richness, she knew immediately why the servant had felt she may not want it. Perhaps he too had guessed she was a human, the scent of the soap was undeniably werewolf. It was a blend of spring grass, lemon and a tang woody scent that Shira could not yet place. She shrugged, it was werewolf territory, she might as well smell like one.

   She had fallen asleep in the tub, and woken up, before she realized to her horror that she had not locked the door with the key, but merely closed it after the servants had left, and she must have been asleep for long, because the water was no longer warm, but tepid. Who knew if anyone had come to spy on her in her nudity! Her cheeks flamed red as she thought of what her mate, the Alpha would think of her. Not only was she human, but she had allowed herself to be tainted. To start with, her first kiss had come from a rogue, and now, who knew just how many people had seen her without her clothes on.

  She got out of the tub and tied the large white towel beside it around her chest, and went to lock the door.

   The door opened just as she reached out her hand to it, and she found herself staring into the pale gray eyes of the rogue who had kidnapped her, the Shark.

   She took a step backwards as he took a step forward, closing the door behind him, and -- to her horror, he brought out a key from inside his pocket, locked it, and pocketed the key again, all the while, his arresting gaze never left hers. She opened her mouth to scream.

   '' This room was made for pleasure you know?'' He said casually, his eyes briefly sweeping through the entirety of the room, then back to her. He stepped closer. ''Women cry out in throes of passion -- did your love teacher tell you? So if you scream, I might be forced to --'' his eyes swept over her, lingering on the place she held the towel together. She gripped it harder till her knockles turned white. ''I might be forced to turn it into a passionate one, he finished.''

   Shira found that his words sent a strange heat burning in her middle. She pressed her legs together, to drive away the heat -- or perhaps to contain it.

   What was this strange man doing to her! Nothing in all the things her love teacher had thought her had ever prepared her for this. She stood paralyzed at the spot, as he stepped even closer.

   ''What's the matter love?'' He asked, mockery dancing in his green eyes. ''Did your 'love - teacher's not teach you how to handle it when a man wants you? Is this how you would stand like a figure molded in wax when your mate takes you in his arms.''

   His words conjured very vivid images in her head, and Shira blushed. Without wanting to, her gaze went immediately to the photo of the naked woman and man on the wall, she shot her eyes away immediately, but not before his eyes followed the direction of her gaze and saw the picture too.

   He laughed then, a low lazy drawl that was genuine amusement. Ignoring her for a moment, he stepped forward to look at the photo.

   ''You do know this picture was drawn in this room.'' He observed, his back still turned to her.

   Shira did not answer him. She watched the powerful build of his body. His muscles seemed to want to burst out of the confines of the formal white shirt he wore. What hope did she have to fight him off her if he tried to force himself on her -- and would she want to!

    Ashamed of herself, she dashed to the bed to retrieve the knife she had hidden there, but in her anxiety, she had forgotten which pillow she had hidden it under. She searched frantically, trying her best not to make a sound.

  ''With the same bed -- same sheets.'' 

   He turned then, and Shira froze in horror. In her frantic search, she had let go of the towel, and now, the top was gaping loose. She followed the rogues gaze to stare down at her own exposed flesh. She blushed hotly.

    ''My! It seems you are already willing to have us act out the embrace in the picture.'' He said softly, his eyes strangely hooded, and a small smile playing at his lips. A shiver ran through her spine.

   ''Cold?'' He asked, although it was obvious that he knew her shivering had nothing to do with cold. ''Do you know werewolves have the ability to warm themselves in time of cold,'' he said softly, like they were having a normal conversation. He stepped closer, and Shira froze, unable to bring herself to move.

   She should be covering the towel, hiding her exposed flesh from his gaze, but she could not bring herself to move.

Shira watched, horrified at her own wayward emotions as the Shark stepped forward till he reached the bed. She remained deathly still as he pulled her into his arms -- roughly, causing the white towel to slip further down.

   He crushed his lips to her, and she tasted the wine he must have drunk on his breath. She wondered briefly if he was drunk, then she could not think again. His lips plundered hers in a very different way than it had before.

  This was no punishment, it was a pleasure so acute, it was painful. He teased her with his lips, gently, thoroughly, then his tongue sought entry into her mouth, an entry she could not deny. His lips ravished hers, raided her tender mouth, till she was out of breath, and yet she wanted more.

  This time, it was she who pulled him closer to her before she could think better of it. It was she who pressed her body closer to his, more intimately.

   He nestled his head in the crook of her neck. ''Shira my sweet -- perhaps I might grow fond of you after all.''

   Shira trembled slightly as his words washed over her, but then his hands were doing a slow exploration of her body, making her feel things even her love instructor had been unable to explain. Was she crazy! To allow herself get ravished by someone who was not her mate, on the day she ought to have met her mate, and by a rogue!

   She pushed at his chest in desperation, but when that didn't stop him, she started beating at his chest.

   One of his hands captured the both of hers, making her even more vulnerable. The Shark proped up himself on the elbow of the other arm. ''What on earth is wrong with you Shira? Did your instruction on love include acting the strumpet one minute, and the saint the next.''

   Shira gasped, furious and also shameful that he should consider her a strumpet, but then she had just acted like one. Refusing to let her shame overcome her, she raised her chin. 

   ''I am mated --''

   ''Yes, yes mated to Farok, Alpha of Diek tribe in Walik. You've made that very clear.'' The Shark interrupted, releasing her. ''That still gives you no right to act like a bitch in heat one moment, and an outraged virgin the next.''

   ''Bitch in heat!'' Shira repeated, stunned. How dare he refer to her as a -- bitch in heat! 

   She fought him then, even more viciously because, to her embarrassment, she felt the prick of unshed tears burn her eyelids. He was still lying on top of her, and she had little space to swing her arm, but her daintly fists beat against his chest with all the strength she could muster, and when she felt she was not inflicting enough pain on him, she started scratching. He caught her fists then, and this time, the hands that grasped them were not gentle.

   ''You should know that in werewolf culture -- Renaki and Walik alike, when a male wants to punish a truant female, he doesn't beat her, he --''

  ''He what?'' She spat, her blue eyes staring furiously at him. ''Rapes her?''

   He smiled without mirth. ''You would like that wouldn't you? It'll take away the responsibility from you. You could have your pleasure, then after that, you run crying to your mate about how you were raped by the wicked Shark.'' 

   Shira tried to speak, but the words remained stuck in her throat.

  She watched, in a mixture of awe and shock as the Shark lowered his head once more to hers. Her body quivered as he pressed a kiss on her neck. There was a new determination about his movement as though he -- as though he intended to rape her.

    Terrified, she reached out again under the pillow and felt for the knife, sucking a breath in relief when she finally found it. Her indrawn breath turned into a moan as his lips found hers again. It was now or never!

   As though in a trance, she drew out the knife and sank it into his shoulder, then watched in horror as a thin line of blood appeared, then it started spreading.

   With a groan, the Shark tore himself from her, then, lying on his side, he remained still, watching her.

   Shira found herself strangely close to tears, and she could not understand why. Surely, the rogue deserved more than even the knife wound. He had kidnapped her, stolen one to many kisses from her unwilling lips -- or supposed - to - be - unwilling, she chided herself. He had brought her to enemy territory, the enemies of her mate! And now he wanted to rape her!

   She wanted to be happy she had hurt him, but to her surprise, she found she wasn't. She was beginning to imagine the pain he must be going through, and she hated that she had caused it.

   ''Does this convince you?'' The Shark asked softly, and to her surprise, he appeared amused. ''Does injuring me convince you that you were unwilling? That you haven't enjoyed everything that has happened between us?'' 

    He reached up a hand and pulled the knife from his shoulder, then with his fingers, he tore open his shirt so that she could watch as the wound healed within seconds.

    ''But -- but that's impossible -- the knife was silver you cannot --''

   ''Heal from it?'' The Shark asked. ''I see you do not know very much about a werewolf's nature -- the nature of your mate?''

   The word 'mate' hung heavily in the air, reminding her of all the lessons in pleasure she had acted out, and not with her mate!

    And for whatever reason, the knife had not really harmed the Shark, even though it was silver. A thought occured to her.

   ''You cannot be an alpha, can you? Only alpha's heal from silver wounds.''

   The Shark got up from the bed. ''You have a lot to learn, but it would not be now.'' He tucked in his shirt that had gotten disheveled, then he headed for the door.

   ''What! are you just leaving then?'' Shira asked without thinking.

   The smile that was pasted on the Shark's face when he turned around was pure mockery, laced with contempt. ''Without your permission, I would take my leave,'' he gave a mock bow. ''My lady. Unless of cause, you are 'willingly' inviting me to rape you.''

   Shira was struck with the urge to fling herself at him again, and keep hitting and scratching until she drew blood from him, in a wound that would not heal.''

   ''Think.'' The Shark interrupted, ''before you act again. I'm sure you already know the punishment for trying to hurt me -- but then, you seem to be enjoying this. Tell me little cat, did your people instruct you on nothing more than violent love making?''

   He turned then and was gone, locking the door behind him. Shira stayed where she was, kneeling on the bed, and tried to calm her ragged breath, then she buried her face into a near by pillow, wishing to the moon goddess that the bed open up and swallow her. Anything was better than the nightmare her life had become.