Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Fragmented Soul	By : StrawberryGirl87 & Bickymonster Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 79703 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything in the fandom. no money/profit is made.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter Eleven – Uncharted Territory
Dumbledore was beyond frustrated, as he threw his copy of the Daily Prophet down on his desk. The front page showed a picture of a muggle town that had all but been burnt to the ground, the article detailed how it had been found with most of the residents slaughtered and the rest missing. Even during the first war things had not been this dangerous and the ministry seemed to barely be attempting to hide the atrocities from the muggle world; both wizarding and muggle communities alike were starting to panic.

He wanted to put an end to Tom’s vendetta against the world, he wished that he could finish it already, but he was sure he needed Harry for that. Even with the progress he had made on that front, it still felt a long way off; there would still be months of these attacks ahead. At least he was making some progress with the Horcruxes; the Fiendfyre imbued Sword of Gryffindor was highly effective at destroying the Gaunt Ring.

Dumbledore had a theory, that Tom would have split his soul into seven pieces; it was a magical number after all and he had no doubt that Tom had been highly aware of that. The headmaster remembered what a remarkable student Tom Riddle had always been; granted he had never trusted or particularly liked the boy, but Dumbledore wasn’t stupid enough to deny his talent.

It seemed a safe assumption that the teenage version of Tom that had walked out of the girl’s bathroom was the soul from one of the Horcruxes, that was the moment Dumbledore had really begun to understand what Dark Magic’s Tom had invoked. It was also why the headmaster had not wasted his time with a search for Ginny Weasley; undoubtedly it was her sacrifice that had allowed Tom Riddle to take a corporeal form once more. Wherever her body lay it was of no concern to him.

The Gaunt ring, which, he’d been shocked to discover was also the Resurrection Stone, had been another Horcrux and the confirmation Dumbledore had needed for what Tom had done; the way it had reacted when struck with the Fiendfyre sword was proof enough of what it had contained. It was also his first real clue as to what the other Horcruxes might be. He had suspected that Tom would use items of significance and the ring had given credit to that theory, not that he was much closer to identifying what the others would be; he had a few ideas though.

But there were simply too many possibilities to be certain of anything, and so the headmaster was choosing to focus on their locations rather than the objects themselves and on that front his progress was slightly more pleasing, though still painstakingly slow. It was the location of the original soul piece that was truly leaving Dumbledore baffled though, the piece that would have been left without form or body that Halloween night in Godric’s Hollow.

The thought that plagued his mind was that with Lily’s sacrifice for her child, would that have been enough for a part of Voldemort to be put into Harry as well? Albus was now almost certain that it would have been. If he was right in his assumptions then Harry Potter was the seventh horcrux and that meant the boy would have to die one way or another; whether he survived was of no concern as long as the part of Voldemort inside of him died it’s final death. He couldn’t wait until January, he felt like a child on the eve of Christmas at the prospect of the Potter boy coming to the school, being under his control. Werewolf or not it was a marvellous thing to have happen.

With all these things he knew now, he felt uncharacteristically foolish for having wasted his time with Neville Longbottom, but he would not dwell on that now that things were starting to look more favourable. He had only ever done what he believed best, and it was the rest of the wizarding world who were fools if they couldn’t see that. He was the great Albus Dumbledore, they should trust him.

And soon he would have another title to add to his list of commendations. He had the Resurrection Stone; he had had the Elder Wand for decades, ever since Grindelwald lost their legendary duel; and James Potter had all but handed him the Cloak of Invisibility on a plate. Of course, Remus Lupin had borrowed the last of the three, but Dumbledore would fetch it from him soon and then he would be the Master of Death. He would live a long time yet; long enough to appreciate the world he was going to have saved; long enough that the world would learn to love him, like they should, once more.

FGHP

Halloween passed with no significance or celebration. Harry took the opportunity to distance himself from the rest of the pack, his mind a buzz with new information. No one bothered him the entire day; the reason for his morose mood had quickly spread throughout the pack and they all respected that he needed space. It would have been almost the perfect excuse to be alone with his thoughts, if it hadn’t been the anniversary of his mother’s untimely demise.

Harry just couldn’t wrap his head around everything that he’d heard. Secret after secret had been spilt by Damon and Fenrir and it made everything spin. He was the mate of Fenrir Greyback, Alpha wolf to their pack. The same man who had bitten and turned him into a Werewolf before he had even reached his second birthday. To top it all off he was apparently special, something to do with his scent made him that way. Something that Harry just couldn’t comprehend. Plus they knew something about his Dad that they weren’t sharing, and that enraged Harry further. He deserved to know, he needed to know, it was the whole reason he was going to Hogwarts, to find answers.

He was sat with his back against his favourite tree, once again curled up in a little ball, arms wrapped around his legs, chin resting upon his knees. He could hear the pack in the clearing only a few metres away, he could have seen them too if he had cared enough to turn his head. The werewolves that he had eaten, slept and bonded with over the two months that he had been here, had wormed their way into his heart. In a way even Fenrir had but the revelation from this morning had left Harry reeling.

He could hear Jenson picking yet another argument with Micha, this time about why his favourite shirt had mysteriously gained a gaping hole in the back of it. Of course Micha was feigning ignorance on the matter. Harry could clearly hear Clayton sniggering in the background, quite obviously having had something to do with it. He didn’t need to look over to know that Callie would be by the fire, preparing their next meal. She never strayed far, though Harry suspected it had just as much to do with starving off the cold from her too thin frame. He also knew that Romy would be curled up near her adoptive mother, reading or chatting to Lukas, who would be nursing a cup of tea.

Fenrir on the other hand liked to survey his pack; keep a protective eye on everyone Clay called it. Though, when he wasn’t watching everyone, he was usually chopping firewood. This was an activity that Harry loved to observe, largely because the Alpha always took off his well-worn leather jacket to do it. His chest muscles would ripple deliciously with each movement, the sweat dripping from him as he worked. Today however, the thought of watching him with such captivated awe made Harry feel sick to the stomach.

In fact staying in pack territory for another night seemed unbearable. Harry knew that he would be having another nightmare tonight, it was always the same on Halloween, there was no escaping it. And if he stayed, then he would no doubt end up in the arms of the Alpha again. Last night it had been blissfully peaceful knowing that he had a big strong wolf to protect and watch over him as he slept, now however that thought made him slightly queasy.

To be in the arms of the man who had bitten him and turned him into a werewolf, to think that he was that man’s mate was all too much. He needed to be able to process the information he now had and being in close proximity with Fenrir wasn’t about to allow him to do that.

When Lukas brought him a cup of tea shortly before lunch, which apparently was of the Earl Grey variety, Harry was already beginning to formulate a plan. He accepted the mug of steaming liquid without a word, giving only a small nod of thanks. Taking the hint, Lukas left him alone again, without saying anything, but not before giving him a sad smile.

Fenrir attempted to bring him lunch a little later but Harry left it untouched, not feeling up to eating. He had drank the tea however and that was enough for him. Fenrir clearly did not agree, however the Alpha couldn’t raise any form of reaction from Harry, not even when he was challenged. The young werewolf just sat and said nothing, unmoving.

“This is the first Halloween I’ve ever seen him,” Damon told Fenrir. “When we were living in Ingleton, Harry never left the house. He wouldn’t even talk to Severus, let alone anyone else on this day. Clay would beg and plead for Harry to come trick or treating but he never would.” The Alpha was sat near the fire, watching his mate with concern when the Beta wolf had come to sit beside him.

“I wouldn’t worry so much if he would just eat something. He’s so small for his age!” Fenrir growled irritably. He could see the plate of untouched food exactly where he’d left it an hour before. There was something niggling the Alpha, he felt as if something wasn’t right and it stretched from more than just the anniversary of Harry’s mother’s death.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Damon said trying to sound reassuring. “In all the time I’ve known him, he’s never been much of an eater. He’s a strong kid, he has to be for everything that’s happened. He’ll be okay.” Fenrir grunted in response. He knew that about Harry, the strength and resilience shone out of the boy but that didn’t mean Fenrir liked it when his mate withdrew into himself like this and refused to speak to anyone.

Fenrir attempted to feed him dinner, which was every bit as successful as lunch had been, only making the Alpha more irritable. Harry however remained stubbornly silent, lost in his thoughts as he plotted and schemed. His backpack was packed, ready to go, he hadn’t spread out, he hadn’t made himself at home here. He knew that he couldn’t make his move until everyone was asleep, he wasn’t stupid. Harry knew they’d try to stop him if he tried to just walk out now and they would want an explanation. He didn’t want to go into the fact he had overheard Damon and Fenrir’s conversation this morning.

He would instead wait until everyone was asleep before making his getaway. Clayton came to see him as the others were preparing themselves to settle down for the night. His best friend flopped down beside him and gave him a small nudge that caused Harry to turn and look at him with sad emerald eyes.

“You coming over?” Clay asked.

Harry shook his head, “Later,” he said, his voice quite as he resumed staring off into space.

“Want a blanket?”

Harry smiled at him, “Please,” he responded and Clay nodded.

Clayton went and fetched a blanket, on the way receiving a curious stare from Damon. Fenrir however stopped him before the young wolf could return to Harry, asking him what he was doing. The Alpha wanted Harry closer to the fire where he’d be warm even if the two of them didn’t sleep curled up with each other again. He wouldn’t have Harry freezing on his own through the night.

“He’s not ready to come to bed yet, Alpha. I asked him if he wanted a blanket and he said yes,” Clayton told Fenrir, who didn’t look happy at all.

Fenrir snatched the blanket from Clay’s hands and strode purposefully over to his mate. Crouching down the Alpha draped the cloth around the younger werewolf who seemed to stiffen at the proximity between them.

“Don’t stay out here all night,” Fenrir said stiffly, not knowing what he had done to make Harry tense up around him. “You’ll freeze!”

“Okay,” Harry returned, his voice soft, almost distant. Fenrir stared at him expectantly for a moment longer but it was clear that Harry had no intention of saying anything more and so, not knowing what else to say, Fenrir got to his feet and walked back to the rest of the pack.

Harry drew the blanket tightly around his shoulders and inhaling the scent of the Alpha that lingered on it; even that brought up such conflicting feelings of comfort and betrayal. He had to get out of here for a while, he had to get his head on straight. He couldn’t be around the handsome, bad tempered and highly infuriating man.

As the evening grew later, Harry felt his eyelids start to droop as he waited for the others to fall asleep. He shrugged off his blanket and allowed the cool air to rush to greet him, jolting him awake with the shock of it. He had spent weeks memorizing the snores of the others and he found himself glad of this knowledge now. He knew exactly when each pack member had fallen into a deep sleep. The last to doze off was, of course, Fenrir but Harry hadn’t expected anything else.

Even when Harry was certain that they were all asleep he waited a little while longer, shivering with the chill in the late October air; it was starting to get colder, that was for sure. Once he was certain that he wouldn’t be caught, Harry quietly and carefully got to his feet. His body was stiff from sitting in the same position the whole day, he had to take a moment to stretch out his legs and wait for the pins and needles to pass; wincing and biting his lip to silence himself when he got a cramp in his thigh.

His stomach rumbled in protest at not having consumed anything more than a mug of Earl Grey tea all day but Harry ignored that. Food was not a priority right now, escaping pack territory without being caught was.

Taking his backpack in hand, throwing it over one shoulder he cast a final glance back toward the clearing. He missed them already but he needed to do this. He felt sorry for Clayton, whom he’d only just repaired his friendship with. Harry could always have asked him to come along but this was something he had to do alone and he would never let himself be the reason Clay was separated from his family. He just hoped his friend would understand.

Taking a deep breath, more to convince himself that this was a good idea than anything else, Harry set off. He walked purposefully away from the clearing, unknowing that he was not the only one who could feign sleep.

FGHP
The afterglow she sported following the torturing of so many muggles was beginning to fade. It had been so much fun while it had lasted, hearing their screams and drawing their blood from their pathetic bodies. Bellatrix Lestrange meandered through the corridors, trailing her fingers along the wall, following the swirls of the pretentious wallpaper the likes of which coated the walls of Malfoy Manor; she sighed with contentment at the memory of the beautiful violence that she had dealt out in the height of her PMS.

It was a darn sight better than being forced to acknowledge that yet again she had failed to conceive the Dark Lord’s child. That is what they both wanted and it seemed to be the one thing that she couldn’t give him. She had given him everything else, heart, mind, body and soul. None of it interested him and none of it really mattered, not when she couldn’t give him the heir he desired. She had never failed him before and she hated that she was doing so now.

He hated it too, she could tell. She could feel his eyes on her, questioning why she wasn’t yet impregnated and she knew that soon he would grow tired of her, become bored of her body and weary of her ineptitude. Her body bore too many scars, scars that he had given her. She kept them to please him but there were too many now, her body almost deformed and misshapen from them.

She hated that her sister had fulfilled her role of wife twice over, for Lucius Malfoy, and yet she couldn’t provide one boy for the all-powerful Dark Lord; surely he was more in need, more worthy of an heir than any other. Her jealousy ate at her, and she could barely stand to look at Lucius’ second son, even more so when it was so blatantly clear that the man cared not that the boy even existed. But Narcissa had her boy and despite her gripping that Lucius had not even laid eyes upon him, she still had completed her duty as his wife.

Bellatrix would not let this defeat her, she would provide for him, she would do anything for him. She understood why he raged at her, and beat her, and hurt her because it was what her failure had given her; she even enjoyed it… sometimes. And then there were those moments, when she wished for him to look at her and touch her with affection and gentleness, for him to love her in return; she knew he would if she could just bare him his heir. Then he would love her and protect her and treat her like the most loyal of all, like she always tried to be.

She felt tense, too tense; she pushed away from the wall and paused to think, a small sinister smirk slipping onto her lips. The Dark Lord wasn’t the only one who needed an outlet and Rodolphus was just so convenient. She would no longer let him desecrate her body just in case the wrong man were to impregnate her, which would be disastrous, of course, but he would bend to her will; she would see to that and maybe tonight would be the glorious night she would finally break him.
She let out a joyful cackle and turned, almost bounding along the hallway in anticipation. Oh, how he would bleed for her tonight. She would enjoy inflicting pain and misery on her pathetic excuse for a husband whom her parents had deemed worthy enough to marry her. Her little sister had the wealthy aristocratic and she had the bumbling buffoon. Though she detested the man, she forgave her parents, they couldn’t have known what higher purpose she would have; that she would truly belong to the greatest wizard to ever live; to the glorious Dark Lord.
FGHP

Until Harry was sure he was clear of pack territory he moved as gracefully through the forest as he could, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. On the off chance someone awoke and realised that he was missing sooner than he thought, Harry didn’t want to help them along by crashing through the undergrowth like a wildebeest.

He knew the exact moment that he stepped outside of pack territory, he felt himself pass through the wards but there was something else too, it smelt different. Even though his nose had been desensitised from the silver or the potion he could still smell the difference as to what was marked out by his Alpha and what wasn’t. He was now in uncharted territory.

Harry’s heart beat a little faster at this, he knew he would have to apparate soon but until he figured out where he wanted to go he would just keep walking and see where his feet led him. Walking helped him think and right now he was thinking that he had made a huge mistake. He needed time to clear his head that was for sure but he didn’t feel safe out here, on his own and outside of the territory that ensured his protection.

The sound of a twig snapping somewhere to his left made him freeze. He wasn’t the only one out here. His heart began to race uncontrollably, cursing his senses for not being what they should be. He prayed that it was just an animal, a non-wizard in origin animal that meant him no harm. Knowing his luck however he doubted it.

Tentatively Harry began to walk again, the wind picking up and making him shiver. He thought about the warmth of the fire and Fenrir’s willing embrace back in the clearing, which he had foolishly left behind in a moment of anger and uncertainty. It was his stubborn streak that kept him moving forward and not turning tail and running back home where he felt safe. He had started something and he would finish it.

A low gruff laugh caught his attention no more than a minute later. He knew the laugh of every one of his pack brothers and sisters. This laugh didn’t belong to anyone that he counted as his family. Oh how he wished he had stayed with them tonight and quashed the cowardly instinct to run away from his problems, rather than facing them head on like he should have done.

Whoever was out here, and Harry was now certain that it was a who and not a what, was playing with him, hunting him down and enjoying it. Picking up his pace but not allowing himself to break out into a full on run, Harry kept moving. A second harsher laugh met his ears, making his heart beat painfully faster as he realised a second person was now stalking him through the forest. Harry’s fear peaked, thinking of his father and how he had sacrificed his life and now Harry had foolishly put it at risk … again.

A third laugh from directly ahead of him now made him stall. Darkness surrounded him and he couldn’t see more than a metre in front of his nose. If someone was ahead of him he couldn’t see them. Harry felt as if they were surrounding him, coming at him from all sides. Unwilling to carry on into the path of certain danger he spun around on his heel and took off at a run, back towards the pack territory where he knew that he would be safe, not caring how much noise he made getting there as long as he survived.

Why had he left? How irresponsible did he have to be to waste his father's sacrifice so stupidly? He was stubborn, cowardly and unable to face his problems when presented with them and now he was going to pay the price for that. Each footfall thudded loudly upon the forest floor, his breathing raging wildly as he ran.

He was moving so hastily that he was barely watching where he was going or where his feet were landing. It was so dark that it was difficult to predict any obstacles that might be ahead of him and his feet caught and landed on several large roots, nearly tripping him, but he managed to keep upright and moving. Though, if the darkness of the night hadn’t blinded him, then his sheer panic would have done as he heard footfalls behind him, chasing him down, and by the sound of it there were more than just three people in pursuit of him.

His heart was beating loudly in his chest and his breath coming in harsh gasps. He chanced a look over his shoulder, but couldn’t see anything. He nearly stumbled again on the uneven ground but then a broken branch that jutted out precariously from a tree caught him hard by the shoulder, slamming into him and making him tumble. His palms connected with the soft cold ground beneath him but he didn’t pause long enough to even catch his breath before pushing himself up and kept running. He didn’t feel any pain in his shoulder but the scent of blood told him that he had done himself some form of injury regardless of if he could feel the pain of it.

Harry wasn’t sure he was even running in the right direction, he just knew that he had to keep going. His pursuers were still behind him, he could hear them crashing gracelessly through the undergrowth not far behind. The stumble had cost him any lead he might have had and he cursed himself for being so clumsy.

He kept waiting for the moment he would feel himself cross through the wards, searching for the familiar scent of their claimed territory with his nose, sure that he couldn’t be far, praying that he was close, that he would make it before he was caught. He was so sure he hadn’t come this far from the boundaries, it was taking too long and he felt more than a little hysterical. His mind cried out for his Alpha, desperate for his protection. Cried out for his mate, he suddenly realised, but he didn’t have time to think on the strangeness of that thought before someone dropped from a tree directly into his path.

Harry let out a shrill cry of surprise at the sight of the large, fierce looking male in front of him. The sudden appearance forced him to stop and fall backwards onto his arse with a thud as the unknown man let out a false laugh that somehow showed far too many yellowed teeth. Harry did his best to turn around and scramble to get to his feet, his fingers clawing at the cold mud as they tried to get purchase to push off from so that he might keep running.

Managing to get back up, he turned slightly to his right and kept his feet moving. He needed to get away but to his horror Harry saw a second male now step into his path, grinning at him manically. This one smaller than the first, but still imposing and just as terrifying to the small werewolf, who was nowhere near as large or bulky as any of his other pack brothers and significantly smaller than these men as well.

He let out a pitiful whimper of fear, exhaustion and frustration, as he turned to try and run in a different direction once more, but he had barely gotten anywhere before he barrelled directly into a large chest of a third man and went flying back down to the ground. This time he was too tired and too hungry to consider getting up again. He was caught, there was nothing he could do against the larger werewolves as they closed in on him, all five of them.

“Looky here what we caught, Dean,” one of the wolves mocked. Harry looked to him when he spoke, taking in the mass of dark blond hair and large frame.

“A feisty little submissive wolf by the looks of it,” the wolf clearly called Dean responded. Turning towards him now in his panic and not liking the look of this wolf. He seemed to be harsher than the others, his presence domineering but he wasn’t the Alpha of this pack, Harry could tell that much.

Harry’s eyes flicking between all five of the men, taking in their unkempt appearances and trying to figure out which one of them was the Alpha wolf. If Harry had thought that his pack brother’s standards of personal hygiene were bad, they had nothing on this lot who looked as if they hadn’t washed in months, their clothes were caked in dirt and grime, what he could see of their skin was in no better condition.

“And all mine,” the largest of the five werewolves said, clearly this was the Alpha of the group. The predatory tone in his voice made Harry scramble away from him as the large man took a step forward, coming towards him clearly with the intent to take hold of him. Harry could clearly see the dark, almost black eyes bearing down upon him, his hair was either dark brown or black also but Harry couldn’t tell in the poor light.

“Ah, Gideon, that’s no fair, you gotta share him, he looks scrumptious,” grumbled one of the others, who was mostly hidden. Harry didn’t turn to see who had spoken this time, he wouldn’t take his eyes off the Alpha.

“Bet he is a screamer too,” another one said, a wide, mad grin on his face as he stepped out from the darkness of the trees.

Harry kept his eyes focused on the Alpha, knowing that this man was the biggest threat, the others would do nothing unless their Alpha gave them the orders to do it. He kept his gaze focused on the almost black, eyes of Gideon.

“He’s a cocky thing,” Gideon said appreciatively. “He won’t look away, almost as if he’s challenging me.” With this he left out a harsh laugh as if such a thing was ludicrous to even consider, though judging by the size difference between them it probably was. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you little sub.”

“What do you think he’s doing out here instead of in his territory?” the smallest of the five wolves asked curiously. Harry risked a cursory glance towards him, taking in the auburn hair and bright blue eyes. He wanted to remember these faces so that if he made it out of here alive he wouldn’t fall foul of them again.

“Shut up Jack! What the fuck does it matter?” Dean snapped viciously at his pack mate.

“Russ, Roderic, move aside, let’s see how fast our little sub can run,” Gideon said with a malicious smirk. Harry didn’t move, not even when the two large wolves with dark blond hair, Russ and Roderic did as they were told. He was beyond exhausted, his energy spent. He had no interest in playing their games when he knew he had no chance of actually getting away from them. He wouldn’t reduce himself to being a source of amusement to these werewolves, he was stronger than that, he was done running away from his problems. It was time to stand and fight, or in this case, cower on his arse but he wouldn’t run.

Gideon however wasn’t the kind of man that took lightly to anyone going against his wishes. Harry found himself roughly grabbed by this hair and pulled viciously to his feet, a shallow scream escaping from his lips, not from pain but from the shock of the sudden movement. Harry was thrown rather callously toward the space Russ and Roderic had vacated. He didn’t care what they did to him he wouldn’t run.

Harry hit the floor again, this time unable to bring his hands up to brace himself in time and his head hitting the ground first. He was thankful that he couldn’t feel any pain right now because he knew that it was bound to have hurt like hell otherwise. Using the last of his strength, Harry clawed his way over to the base of a tree where he cowered, trying to make himself as small as possible. The other werewolves just laughed at him.

“That’s not going to save you, little sub,” Roderic mocked, stepping forward, Russ not far behind, the two of them looked so similar they must have been related but even as that fact registered in Harry’s mind he disregarded it, knowing that wasn’t going to help him. The two of them grabbed one of Harry’s arms each, forcibly picking him up and holding him to the tree. Harry struggled valiantly despite his exhaustion and hunger as Gideon came forward, a smug look on his face.

“Should have run when you had the chance,” Dean taunted from just behind his Alpha. The only one of them who stood further back and away from the action without saying a word was auburn haired, Jack, clearly the weak link in the group, the omega wolf.

“Please,” Harry said in a panic, “Let me go,” he pleaded making them all laugh at him once again. He had never known anyone to be so cruel, so callous.

Gideon cupped his hand round Harry’s cheek, grinning at him as he drew closer so that Harry could feel the heat of his breath against his cool skin. He stank of rotting meat, it was enough to turn Harry’s stomach. The young wolf almost threw up as the Alpha licked his jaw line, Harry scrunched up his face, turning his head to try and get away. However Gideon’s hand forced him to remain still, with the help of Russ and Roderic who had a fierce grip on his arms that had been twisted around the trunk of the tree, almost uncomfortably so.

He could smell this vulgar Alpha’s scent all around him and it made him nauseous, it made him want to cry out for Fenrir, missing the musky scent of man, not realising exactly how much he had liked the way Fenrir smelt until being confronted with this monstrosity of an Alpha wolf. It suddenly didn’t matter who had bitten him or why, Harry just wanted to go back to his pack where he would be safe. But it was too late to think like that now, he should have realised before he had decided to run.

“There will be no mistaking who you belong to,” Gideon growled at him, pressing his large form against Harry’s trembling and much smaller body. “I will claim you, bitch. You pretty little sub. It will be such a shame to ruin your face if you are too stupid to do as you’re told.”

“Stay still,” Russ snapped, pulling hard on Harry’s arm, as Dean and Jack came forward to grab his legs, holding him even more firmly in place.

“I would say this isn’t going to hurt…” Roderic told him smugly, “but that would be lying. This is going to be pure agony that will never let you forget your place.”

Harry pulled at his arms and legs, desperate to get free. He even tried to lunge forward in a vain attempt to bite one of them; but that just seemed to amuse them. He knew he was little more than a play toy to them. His stomach lurched again when he thought back to the conversation he had overheard the previous morning. He was unique and they could probably smell that all over him.

The Alpha threaded the fingers of his left hand through Harry’s hair and easily put a stop to his attempts to bite the others, tilting Harry’s head so their eyes met. His right hand keeping a firm grip on his blade as he ran it up the little submissive wolfs leg, splitting the skin beneath as easily as the denim that covered it. He could smell it in the air, the sweet, sweet scent of the submissive boy’s blood and… oh that was just too priceless, the little sub had pissed himself in fear. Gideon smirked in victory as he kept the tip of blade near the top of the terrified werewolf’s thigh.

“What are you going to do to me?” Harry whimpered in terror.

“He’s going to slice you good,” Jack told him with a cackling laugh; his bright blue eyes wide as he watched the events unfold like a mesmerising show. “He is going to chop off all those extra bits a bitch like you will never need.”

“I… what do you…? I don’t…” Harry stumbled over the words. The combination of the disgusting little werewolf’s words and the horrifying position of the gross Alpha’s blade making the realisation crash down upon him. Surely he wouldn’t cut him…there? Harry however was starting to realise that there were some people in the world that were just plain evil and those were the kind of people that had him pinned to a tree with a knife in his groin.

“Shut it, Jack, or you’ll be next,” Russ warned.

Harry pulled futilely against the grip that the werewolves had on him, knowing he had to do anything to get away, he couldn’t let them cut him like that. Even if Fenrir did come find him, Harry wasn’t sure his Alpha would still want him cut and damaged, and probably used; a sickening thought that would have made him throw up, if he had anything in his stomach to lose.

“I suggest you don’t move, little sub,” Gideon said in a mockingly sweet voice, “I wouldn’t want to cut the wrong bit and have you bleed yourself to death. What a waste that would be.”

“ALPHA! FENRIR!” Harry screamed hysterically through the tears he didn’t remember starting to cry. He had never been so terrified in his life. “Alph…..!” He was cut off as a filthy hand was forced over his mouth but that didn’t stop him; his muffled cries echoing through the night air. He had no idea how far he was from the clearing or the pack, but he prayed it was enough. He had to believe his mate would come.

FGHP

Fenrir had got up to follow the moment he had realised that Harry was trying to run away again. He had known in his gut that something wasn’t right with his mate and as usual his instincts were right on target. He wasn’t sure what had happened to make the boy want to run this time but he was damned well going to find out but not before dragging his sorry arse back to the clearing where he would be safe. If he had to tie Harry to a tree to make him stay put for the night then that was what he would do.

He should have just gone after Harry but he had hesitated, looking around at his sleeping pack, he knew that there were dangers lurking in the forest, including some stray werewolves that seemed content to skirt their territory for the moment. He wasn’t stupid enough to take off on his own after Harry when he didn’t know how many of strays there were. If he ran into trouble then he might need back up.

Shaking Jenson awake, careful not to disturb Callie or Romy who were deeply asleep, curled up next to him, he motioned that they were going. Without question or hesitation Jenson pulled on his shoes as Fenrir moved to Damon. His beta blinked sleepily, confused as to what was going on, untangling himself from his son who lay sleeping beside him. Once the two of them were up and wake, which thankfully didn’t take long, he began to explain.

“Harry’s gone,” Fenrir told them, “Jenson and I will go after him. Damon, stay awake and stay alert, I have a bad feeling about this.” Without another word the two of them were off, Damon watching after them with concern, unable to comprehend why Harry had decided to run again.

“Clayton!” Damon said, shaking his son awake.

“What is it, Dad?” The young wolf grumbled, rubbing his eyes and groaning when he realised that it was still dark, unable to understand why he was being woken up.

“It’s Harry,” Damon said and instantly Clay was wide awake and alert, looking around the clearing for any sign of his friend. The absence of the Alpha, Harry and Jenson was glaringly obvious as he looked between the rest of the sleeping pack. “What’s wrong, where is he… Fenrir, Jenson?”

“Harry decided to run but we don’t know why,” Damon said quietly to his son, “I was hoping you might have some idea.”

“Might have something to do with whatever you were talking about this morning,” Clay said giving his dad a pointed stare, Damon just looking confused. “You didn’t think he was really asleep did you?”

“Shit,” Damon swore, grimacing as he recalled the conversation. If Harry had heard what they were saying then that explained why he had decided to run this time. It would have been a lot for a young boy to handle all in one go.

"So what were you talking about?" Clay asked curiously as he sat up, prepared to wait up for when the others all returned, hopefully with Harry; and hopefully unharmed too.

"Never you mind, Clayton," Damon said a little too harshly, causing Micha to stir beside them. It wouldn’t be long until the entire pack was awake at this rate.

"What's going on?" Micha grumbled sleepily, aware of the other wolves that were awake around him and finding it strange that they were all up at this hour.

"Harry's gone, Fenrir and Jenson have gone after him," Damon explained, keeping his voice low so not to wake the others.

"Fuck, that boy needs to get his head checked, he was fine yesterday," Micha declared firmly, jumping to his feet and grabbing his shoes.

"Yeah well he might have been provoked this time" Damon explained. “Where are you going?"

"To help," Micha called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the darkness as he headed quickly off towards to the edge of the territory. A feeling of heavy apprehension weighed down heavily on Damon as he watched Micha disappear into the forest. He knew the instant that he was gone that he should have tried to stop him from leaving but there was nothing he could do now.

"Can I go too, Dad?" Clayton asked desperately.

"Not a chance" Damon growled, protective of his only child. Now all they could do was wait. They would tend the fire and try not to wake Romy, Callie and Lukas as they awaited the return of the others anxiously.

FGHP

Fenrir tore through the forest, Jenson hot on his heels. The Alpha was following the delicious scent of his young mate. However, shortly outside of pack territory the scent of the stray wolves mingled in with that of Harry and Fenrir knew that his little mate was in trouble. Not every Werewolf treated a submissive well.

Fenrir also knew, far too well, just how tempting Harry’s scent was; it was little short of a miracle that he had been able to resist claiming the young werewolf himself, and he didn’t trust any other werewolf to show the same restraint and patience. He cared enough to wait until the young boy was ready, no other would be so lenient. He had to find Harry and now; he was already cursing himself for hesitating long enough to have let Harry get out of the territory at all.

There were the usual sounds of the woodland around them, but all of it was drowned out by harsh deep breathing, leaves and twigs snapping and crackling underfoot and the blood he could hear pumping in his ears. He had never been so focused in all his life. Fenrir inhaled deeply and confirmed that Harry had travelled this way.

But then the scent of the young pup was failing, it made no sense. It was as though Harry had suddenly changed direction, almost as if something had frightened him, forcing him to change course. Shit, Fenrir cursed inwardly as he stopped for a fraction of a second and took a deep breath, trying to figure out which direction Harry had taken.

Jenson too was using his nose in an effort to seek out Harry, however it wasn’t the young ones scent that concerned him. It was the strays. They smelt familiar; and not in the way that brought back fond memories either. He had occasionally thought, though not said out loud for his own safety, that Fenrir was overly protective of Harry, and worried too much, but on this occasion he was terrified for the pup; he feared what state Harry might be in when they found him if they didn’t catch up with him soon.

A loud crashing to the rear of them had them on high alert. Someone was incoming and fast. Diving across the path of the unknown person, Fenrir slammed the intruder into the trunk of the tree, snarling dangerously. He bared his teeth in warning; every Alpha instinct he had piqued with the worry for his mate. He certainly wasn’t going to take any chance with letting the stray werewolves get an advantage over him. Such it was that he was half ready to tear into the werewolf he had pinned against the tree when the familiar scent registered in his brain. Realising that he was staring at a terrified looking Micha, he relaxed his painful grip on his pack member.

“What the fuck, Micha?” Fenrir bit out, letting the younger wolf down.

Micha rubbed at his throat, looking apologetic; he really should have known better than to approach the enraged Alpha without warning, even as a member of his pack. “Damon told me that Harry had gone, I wanted to help,” he explained; he couldn’t let there be a scrap of doubt for his motivations, his life depended on it. Micha had no delusions; if the Alpha had to choose between Micha’s life and Harry’s, he was a dead man.

“We’re wasting time,” Jenson said, “He went this way.”

The three wolves took off in the direction Jenson had indicated without another word of debate, though the Alpha wasn’t happy about Micha’s sudden appearance. Of all of the werewolves from his pack that could have come chasing after them, Micha was not the one he would have wanted as he wasn’t as strong a fighter as some of the others. Fenrir, after taking a deep breath and confirming that Harry’s scent lay thick in the air, kept moving, staying in the lead. The Alpha was just hoping that they weren’t too late.

Jenson wasn’t sure if he had the breath to mention the fact that he recognised the scent of the strays, he wasn’t sure if it would matter or whether Fenrir would consider it useful information or not. The Alpha was focused solely on tracking down his young mate and that type of information might not have been deemed as important.

However, if it was the werewolves that Jenson thought that it was, then they were in trouble. It would mean that Voldemort supporters were sniffing around and no good ever came of that. Riddle was pure evil, Jenson had wanted nothing to do with him from the moment his old pack had joined with the madman. He hadn’t been like them. He hoped that it was them, in a way, because then he could kill each and every one of them for what they did to Romy.

They ran and just kept running without saying anything. Until shrill screams echoed throughout the forest that were so distinctly Harry that it made Fenrir throw back his head and howl as he heard his mate call out to him. The screams that ripped through the forest were agonising and full of fear and pain.

“ALPHA! FENRIR!”

At the sound of his voice the three of them picked up their pace, something that they hadn’t even believed possible, charging relentlessly towards where they had heard Harry’s distressed shout. He had sounded scared, in fact, damn near terrified might have been more appropriate way of describing it. This could mean only one thing, the strays had caught him and he was trapped. They were running out of time.

This thought rang through Fenrir’s mind along with every possibility about what they could be doing with his little mate every second that he wasn’t with him, protecting him as he should be. He caught the scent of Harry’s blood and roared as he, Jenson and Micha burst through the undergrowth to see little Harry pinned to a tree by four large, imposing wolves. A fifth, who was clearly another Alpha, held a knife to Harry’s groin where Fenrir could clearly see blood, wetting the denim of the torn jeans.

The three of them had made no attempt at stealth as they had tried to reach Harry with all the haste they could muster, and so it was no surprise to Fenrir when six pairs of eyes turned on him, glaring at him. The strays snarled, baring their teeth in warning.

Fenrir barely had time to note the relief on Harry’s face at their sudden appearance as he pulled out a blade of his own. These stray werewolves had touched his mate; they had scared Harry, they had hurt him, and from the looks of things the strays had plans to hurt him a good deal more before they were done. All in all it didn’t bode well for the lives of the stray wolves, who were severely pissing him off.

“Fen …” Harry sobbed out quietly, desperately, the hands pinning him to the tree tightened. He yelped, more from the tugging and the pressure than anything else but he knew that it should have hurt, he could feel the skin stretching around his shoulders as they tightened their hold, pulling his arms back and further around the trunk of the tree. He could feel the bark of the tree digging into the flesh of his back, registering the sensation but again not feeling the sting of pain that should have been there.

“Let him go,” Fenrir growled, the call of his little mate sounding so hopeless and defeated making him angrier still. He didn’t think that it was possible to feel such rage but as he took in the sight of his mate, the stench of blood and urine filling the air, he wanted to kill them all, tearing them to pieces with his bare hands.

“Boys, make sure the little bitch doesn’t go anywhere, I’m not done with him yet,” the stray’s Alpha instructed, turning away from where Harry was still held firmly against the tree trunk.

“Don’t be stupid, Gideon,” Jenson said, his body tense, ready for the attack. It had been a while since he had stood face to face with his old Alpha and the family reunion was not looking to be a happy one. He stood firmly just to one side of Fenrir, wanting no doubts about his loyalty; not that there would be given how he had left his former pack.

“Jenson,” Gideon said with a laugh, he’d always thought that his littlest brother would be dead, “you stubborn fool, you should have died like the little bint you stole away with.”

“She isn’t dead!” Jenson snarled.

“Romy?” Fenrir growled under his breath to Jenson, infuriated by the idea that this werewolf had not only dared attack Harry, but was also behind all the shit that had happened to another of his pack’s pups. Fenrir had never considered himself particularly intellectual, but it hadn’t taken much for him to figure out this was probably the pack that Jenson had run from, which meant that Gideon was Jenson’s older brother.

“Well, I’ll have to rectify that,” one of the wolves who was still manhandling Harry said. Fenrir growled lowly at the reminder that his mate was still very much terrified and suffering.

“I’ll kill you first, Dean,” Jenson snarled dangerously but Fenrir seemed determined to beat him to it. The Alpha wolf lunged at Gideon, but the one called Dean wasn’t just going to stand by and watch his own Alpha being attacked. Without pausing for thought, Dean released his grip on Harry’s leg, and he leapt forward, intercepted Fenrir, knocking him to the floor in a mass of flying limbs.

“I’d like to see you try,” Russ said with a laugh, “you were always so pathetically weak, Jen, and looks like your new Alpha is as well. Letting him fight your battles for you, pathetic.”

Fenrir’s grip on his knife was strong and, it was with a well-placed blow that he managed to break Dean’s nose with the end of the handle. A strangled yelp sounded as blood began to spurt everywhere, however it didn’t stop the two of them as they continued to land blow after blow, hitting whatever they could reach.

“Enough,” Gideon roared, “The Dark Lord wants Greyback alive, kill the rest of them. The bitch is ours.”

“I’m not a BITCH!” Harry bellowed, swinging out with his recently freed leg and managing to kick the back of Gideon’s thigh. It wasn’t as though it would do much good, but after what the vulgar Alpha had planned to do to him, Harry needed to lash out in retaliation.

Fury flashing in his eyes, Gideon turned on Harry; if the submissive didn’t smell so damned amazing he would have slit his throat already just to save himself the trouble. Gideon opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment another body collided into him from the side, he hadn’t been expecting it and it through him off balance.

“Bastard!” Micha yelled as his fist collided with the side of Gideon’s face, both Russ and Roderic looked torn between maintaining their grip on the unruly sub and helping their Alpha fend off his attacker.

Jenson rushed forward, ready to fight the two strays that still maintained their grip on Harry, aiming to get the brothers Russ and Roderic away from the young pup, their grip on him looking painful. He didn’t want what happened to Romy be repeated. He wanted to kill them all for what they had done to his adoptive daughter.

Jack just continued to help hold onto Harry, not being stupid enough to take on the werewolf coming towards him; Jenson was twice as large and twice as strong as the omega wolf and he wouldn’t have stood a chance. The submissive on the other hand was smaller and weaker, this didn’t happen often and Jack intended to take full advantage.

Harry, taking the opportunity granted to him by the numerous distractions, he swung his free foot at the smallest of the strays; the sound as Harry’s shoe collided with Jack’s head was slightly sickening, but he had to kick him thrice more before the omega werewolf would let go of his other leg.

Harry looked up from the barely conscious werewolf at his feet and went wide-eyed at the rather intimidating sight of Jenson with his hand around Russ’ throat. Roderic released Harry’s arm, which he had been holding, so that he could help his brother, but this foolishly gave Harry a free hand to swing at the back of Russ’ head.

And suddenly Harry found himself unrestrained and completely unsure what to do; so he started with an additional kick to the head for the disgusting little omega werewolf, Jack, knocking him out cold. Looking around in a panic he saw that Fenrir was still wrestling with Dean and Micha was not faring well in his fight with Gideon.

Making the decision to follow his head and not his heart Harry launched towards Gideon in a rage, knowing that if he didn’t intervene then Micha wasn’t going to make it. Gideon’s hands were wrapped around Micha’s throat and his pack brother was slowly turning purple as his air supply was cut off by the large, strong hands of the stray’s Alpha.

Harry was all too aware that he was no match for the large Alpha wolf but he wasn’t about to stand aside and do nothing while Micha lost his life because of him. Gideon seemed to be having far too much fun choking the life out of the smaller wolf. Harry threw himself onto Gideon’s back, punching, hitting, kicking and hair pulling, in fact doing anything and everything he could to get him to stop strangling Micha.

This was his fault, they were all here, fighting and bleeding because of him, just like what had happened to his Dad. He had decided to run rather than face his problems and this was the price, he should be the one to pay for it not them. The possibility that they wouldn’t all make it back to the rest of the pack was sickening. Harry wasn’t about to let any of them die because of his stupid mistake, not if he could help it.

Jenson’s grip had tightened around Russ’ throat but Roderic wasn’t about to let his brother go unaided. There were too many of the strays, without help the four of them were going to struggle to all make it out alive. Micha and Harry were not strong fighters like Jenson and Fenrir. The strays still had four strong members, making the odds unfortunately in the enemies’ favour.

Fenrir was furious, of course he had been angry the moment that he had realised Harry had run off again, however that was nothing compared to the rage he felt now. The fact that his little mate had now thrown himself into the fighting only made it worse, despite his relief that Harry was okay enough to do so. He still didn’t like the notion that the little submissive that was so small for his age was currently attacking an Alpha male over three times his size.

Roaring his anger he finally managed to plunge the blade of his knife deep into Dean’s right shoulder, incapacitating him and making Dean howl with pain as he tried to get away from Fenrir, his right arm now useless.

Kicking the now profusely bleeding werewolf out of the way, Fenrir thumped him in the temple, using the butt of the knife again, thankful when Dean fell to the ground and stopped moving. It didn’t matter whether he was dead or alive, what was important to Fenrir was that he could help his pack now and they all needed his help.

Jenson had been tackled to the ground, the brothers Russ and Roderic overwhelming him. Gideon had finally released his grip around Micha’s throat, unfortunately he was now making a grab for Harry. Fenrir, having incapacitated Dean, now had to decide who needed his help more, Harry and Micha or Jenson. It was an easy choice to make in his mind.

Hoping Jenson could hold his own for a few minutes, Fenrir, moved quickly over to Harry, Micha and the other Alpha. It took no effort at all to remove the protesting Harry from Gideon’s back, and he felt a spark of pride at how well his little mate had held his own, but now it was his turn. Placing Harry just behind him, to ensure he stayed out of the way Fenrir turned his attention to the other Alpha wolf.

He bore his weight down upon Gideon’s back, leaving him nowhere to go, Micha still pinned beneath him. Fenrir then wrapped his arms around the other Alpha wolf in a mockery of a hug; with swift precision Fenrir grabbed Gideon’s arm, which had been reaching for Micha’s throat once again, twisting it to allow for better access, then with a strong swing, brought his blade down on the other Alpha’s wrist. The blade slicing through the skin and muscle, clicking against the bone as it sliced through the flesh with a sickening sound.

An agonised and furious scream ripped through the forest and Micha was practically painted scarlet as Gideon’s now severed right hand fell away, the stump spurting blood, like something out of a horror film, Fenrir having cut it off at the wrist joint.

“Take Harry home!” Fenrir roared at a stunned Micha, as he pulled Gideon back off of his smaller pack member, “NOW!” he bellowed, shocking Micha into action as the other Alpha almost lost consciousness in Fenrir’s grasp. Gideon’s horrified eyes unable to look away from the bloody, dripping stump where his hand had once been.

“NO!” Harry screamed, trying to reach Fenrir as a blood soaked Micha picked up the younger wolf, predicting his protests, “Fenrir!” Harry called out, struggling against his pack brother, he wanted to be with his Alpha. “Micha please, we have to help him … them!” Fenrir had to hold himself back from running to his mate at the sound of his screams. He had to finish this before he could be with him. It took a lot of determination to hold himself back as Micha removed Harry from the scene of the fight.

“Sorry, little one, Alpha’s orders,” Micha told him with sympathy, he wanted to stay and make sure that nothing happened to Fenrir and Jenson too, but he had been a pack wolf his whole life, it didn’t occur to him not to obey such a clear, direct and important order from the Alpha male. He did however turn to make sure they were going to be okay and saw Fenrir charge towards Jenson who was still managing to fend off both Russ and Roderic single handed.

“But we can’t leave them!” Harry pleaded, tears in his eyes as he fought against the tight grip Micha had on him. He didn’t want to hurt his pack brother so his attempts to get away were not as determined as they could have been. He knew that he was too tired and too hungry to be much use but it felt awful being ordered away like a naughty child. All he wanted was to know that the Alpha, his mate, was going to survive this. He could have screamed out his frustration as he lost sight of them but instead, he let himself go numb and be led away.

“We aren’t fighters, pup,” Micha tried to explain, it really wasn’t their place to be fighting like this, particularly not as submissive wolves, though they could if the occasion called for it, like it had tonight. “They’ll be okay, let’s just go home.” He prayed it was the truth, but he knew that if Harry didn’t believe him then there would be no hope of getting the little werewolf out of there while still conscious. Micha didn’t want to have to do anything drastic and knock him out. He would feel terrible if he had to do something like that without being provoked into it.

Mutely Harry nodded, wanting nothing more than to be close to Fenrir, to smell his musky, manly scent and have him take away the memories of what had just happened by holding him close. He was finally accepting that the territory really was his home and the pack were now his family in the absence of his Dad. He was now terrified of the idea that, should Fenrir or Jenson fail to return to them alive, they might never be a whole pack again, and he hadn’t even minded being called a pup.

Micha still had to bodily carry Harry away from the blood splattered scene, and as Harry looked back the last thing he saw before they became too far away from the fight to see anything was Fenrir diving in to help Jenson, ripping Roderic away and throwing him quite forcefully into the trunk of a tree, a sickening crunch signalling that he’d broken bones upon impact.

FGHP

Damon looked up from his position at the fire where he had been lost in thought to see two of the missing four pack members stagger back into the clearing. Clay had dozed off into a light sleep as they awaited the arrival of the others, his head in his Dad’s lap. However at the sight of a blood splattered Micha carrying a dirty, cut up and bleeding Harry back into the clearing, without Fenrir or Jenson accompanying them, Damon had jumped up to his feet, knocking Clayton, quite abruptly, awake.

“What the fuck happened?” Damon demanded rather loudly as he took Harry from Micha, checking the young teenager over for injuries.
Harry cringed, he had never heard Damon swear before; it wasn’t nice to hear from the normally calm, collect man. Once content that the cut on Harry’s leg and the injury to his shoulder were mostly superficial and were already beginning to heal the Beta wolf turned back to Micha, “Where are Fenrir and Jenson?” he demanded as he began to check over the other wolf.

“Strays,” Micha said, trembling with shock, as he allowed Damon to check him over without complaint. “They had Harry.”

“Are you okay?” Clayton demanded as he came to join them, he pulled his best friend into a tight hug the second Damon had placed Harry back onto the ground. He was so relieved to see him back in pack territory shaken but alive, with only limited minor injuries.

“I think so,” Harry said a bit faintly, feeling as if he might topple over at any minute and if it hadn’t been for the adrenaline he probably would have done. For a very brief moment he debated asking Clayton to help him sneak away again, to try and get back to Fenrir and make sure he and Jenson were okay. However he thought better of it when he realised how weak he felt, practically swaying in place where he stood. He hadn’t eaten or had a proper night’s sleep, thanks to his nightmares, in a few days and now his body was beginning to shut down in protest.

“Good,” Clay said, pulling back and meeting Harry’s eyes, suddenly, and most unexpectedly, slapping him roughly over the back of the head, “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?” he demanded loudly.

Damon and Micha were quick to intervene, trying to get themselves between the two pups; it would hardly help matters if Fenrir came back to find that Clay had hit Harry, even if it was just a clip around the ear.

“What was that for?” Harry asked stupidly as he rubbed the back of his head, glaring at his best friend. Callie, Romy and Lukas were all starting to wake due to the shouting and the ruckus the rest of the group were now making. It was a good thing too, considering that Callie’s medical knowledge was going to be needed by the looks of Micha who was covered in blood.

“Enough, both of you,” Damon said pulling his son away, “You’re not helping, Clay!” The Beta then turned to Harry, “Go and clean up, you don’t need medical attention, you’re dirty and you stink.” Harry hesitated, not knowing what to think of these rather harsly spoken orders, he wanted to wait for Fenrir, nothing else mattered, he didn’t care how badly he stank or how dirty he was. “NOW!” Damon roared when Harry didn’t make any movement to do as he had been instructed. “Lukas, go with him, make sure he does as he’s told for once!”

Lukas nodded sleepily, wishing he could have had time to at least start the process of making a cup of tea, before putting a hand on Harry’s back and guided him towards the stream. Harry glanced back towards the clearing several times, but went with him with very little resistance, what Damon had said had hurt. Clearly when Fenrir was out of the picture Damon stood in as Alpha until he got back, he hadn’t known this before tonight. The beta wolf clearly took the position very seriously too.

“Is that blood yours?” Callie asked, coming over to inspect an increasingly distressed looking Micha, who shook his head, shock starting to sink in as he ran his hand over his already bruising neck where Gideon’s hands had attempted to choke the life from him and almost succeeded too. If it hadn’t have been for Harry he knew he wouldn’t be standing here now. Callie sat him down and wrapped a warm blanket around him, worried and fairly sure that Micha was going into shock as the adrenaline worked its way out of his system.

“Fenrir, he cut off his hand,” Micha said, not realising that his words made very little sense to those who had not witnessed the fight.

“Where are they?” Romy asked in a panic, thinking of her Dad. Callie was remaining remarkably calm, considering her mate wasn’t yet back; Romy on the other hand was frantic with worry.

“What do you mean Fenrir cut off his hand?” Damon asked confused.

“We were outnumbered, Fenrir told me to bring Harry home,” Micha said, struggling to breathe properly as the scrambled memories from the fight rushed through his brain and he struggled to make sense of them all. “The strays, they had an alpha, Fenrir cut of his hand because he tried to hurt Harry, he almost killed me.”

“You aren’t making any sense Micha, take a breath, calm down and explain it to us.” Damon said, taking a seat beside the distressed Wolf. He really looked a sight, his handsome face and light, sandy blond, hair covered in crimson.

Micha however never got a chance to explain anything further, instead he raised his hand and pointed towards the edge of the clearing. Everyone turned to look to see what he had seen. When Damon saw what Micha had spotted he was glad that he had ordered Harry away. The young pup wouldn’t have reacted well to the sight that greeted them now.

“Clayton!” Damon said hurriedly, turning his son’s attention quickly to him, “take Romy and go down to the stream! Keep Harry and Lukas there! If I hear one argument you’ll regret it, do you understand?!” he ordered; he couldn’t have the pups bear witness to this, especially not Harry. None of them needed to see this.

“Yes, Dad,” Clayton said, unable to not look at where Micha was pointing and that alone told him enough to know that this was no time for fun and games or childish grudges.

He put an arm round Romy’s shoulder quickly, his other hand up near her eyes to stop her from looking and started to guide her off in the direction Lukas and Harry had taken. When it was clear that Romy wasn’t going to even attempt to look he took his arm from her eyes and moved it to her waist to hurry her along. They were both determined to do as they were told, it was clear the last thing the adults needed right now was the pups causing trouble.

Not even waiting long enough for Clay and Romy to leave the clearing, Callie and Damon rushed forward, in a panic, to help Jenson, who was struggling to hold up the weight of an unconscious Fenrir in his arms. The pair of them were covered in blood and none of the pack had ever seen Fenrir in such a state; it was rare that anyone could manage to do more than inflict more than minor injuries on their Alpha but this, this was serious.
Micha tried valiantly to get to his feet and follow them, but was too shaken and hurt to manage it; that attempt to stand up was too much for his exhausted body and traumatised mind, and he collapsed in a heap on the ground close to the fire, unconscious.

Callie was in full healer mode as she took in the bruised and bloodied body of their Alpha. He had deep oozing gashes all down his bare chest and down to the soft flesh of his stomach, with blood seeping from them in vast quantities, spilling down his jeans and on to the ground. His innards were easily visible and on the verge of tumbling from the open wounds and on to the ground. Large bruises scattering his face and chest already starting to purple up and she was fairly sure his left arm was broken, as were likely several ribs.

She wasn’t sure where to start as her exhausted mate lay the Alpha down close to the fire, but she barked out orders to Damon to fetch what she needed to start healing them. Jenson was in no fit state to help anyone, but she didn’t have time to worry about the now unconscious Micha and so asked her mate to try to wake the younger wolf. She needed more hands and was almost ready to shout for the pups to come back and help. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

I realise that this is an awful ending to a chapter but BickyMonster and I might be persuaded to update with chapter twelve at the weekend if you're all super nice and leave lots of lovely reviews for us.
As always, don't forget to read the Fluffy Bits (on AO3 and ff.net only) and let us know what you think of them too.
Really hope you enjoyed the chapter.
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Fragmented Soul