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
- 11
- 12
- 13
Chapter 12 - Aftermath

Harry, Clay and Romy were down by the stream, their eyes safely kept from witnessing the horrors unfolding in the clearing; though Harry had likely already been exposed to far more than any pup should have been, after what had happened this evening. The others didn’t think too much about the pups as they rushed around taking care of the injured, they felt sure in the knowledge that the pups were being watched over by Lukas, who was probably the most level headed and sensible of them all. It allowed them to focus on their highest priority of desperately trying to heal their dying Alpha.

Jenson had lain Fenrir down close to the fire, in a hope to keep him warm while Callie did all she could to treat his severe injuries. There was blood everywhere, it seemed, and it was difficult to know where to start, but the men trusted Callie when she knelt down next to the Alpha and got to work. While it was worrying, in many ways, it was fortunate that the Alpha wolf was unconscious; no man, or werewolf, would have been able to handle the agony he would have undoubtedly felt had he been awake.

At his sister’s barked instruction Damon had run off at full speed to the cave to fetch their limited medical supplies. Shortly before he had brought Lukas into the pack, Fenrir had been into town to stock up on things that they might need, however, there was very little left and there certainly wasn’t enough or anything suitable to treat the serious nature of the injuries that the Alpha wolf had. This hadn’t been something that anyone had foreseen happening; they had thought that their territory was safe, at least safe enough that serious injuries such as this shouldn’t even have been on their minds.

Not waiting for Damon to return, Callie frantically used her wand to clean and then tear one of the nearby blankets into strips that would be large enough to bind the vast chest of Fenrir. Regular bandages wouldn’t even come close to being able to do the job properly. Jenson briefly tried to aid her as best as he could but he had his own injuries to contend with; he was sure that he had dislocated his shoulder in the scuffle with the two brothers, Russ and Roderic if the intense pain that repeatedly jolted through his arm was any guide, and it was only his concern for his Alpha that kept him from crying out in pain.

Jenson's whole body was littered from head to foot with small cuts and bruises, the possibility of a broken rib was also nagging at him, as with every breath he took shooting pains shot through his chest. However he gritted his teeth and worked through the intense discomfort; helping his mate use the makeshift bandages to stem the worst of the bleeding from their Alpha.

Callie was a pillar of strength as she worked and he knew he needed to help her in any way that he was able, his own discomfort be damned. Jenson was so fiercely proud of his mate; her hands not even shaking as she dealt with the injured Alpha wolf. She remained calm and in control, though it was perhaps because she had seen so much blood be spilt in her lifetime that it just didn’t faze her anymore.

It was becoming clear that he was of little use; his strength was failing him and he kept forcing himself to stop and catch his breath or occasionally to let a moment of dizzy disorientation pass. “Jen!” Callie said sternly, catching his attention when he was on the verge of passing out or possibly just emptying his stomach where they were knelt over Fenrir. Jenson managed to take a couple of deep, determined breaths and meet her eyes.

“I think Micha fainted from the shock; I need you to try and wake him and then you need to sit down and stay with him,” she instructed her mate clearly, and waited for him to nod. “I’ll look over both of your injuries in a minute, I just have to stop this bleeding first,” Callie explained firmly.

She loved Jenson, he and Romy were her whole world, she was really worried about him and she did not want him to hurt himself more than what he had already managed; but Fenrir was going to be dead soon if she couldn’t help him first. He might be dead anyway regardless of what she did but she had to try no matter how useless it seemed. She would try and keep trying until the Alpha had drawn his last breathe, even then she would still feel as if she had failed if she couldn’t save his life.

Damon returned as quickly as he could, his arms filled with everything the pack had in the way of medical supplies, it wasn’t nearly as much as any of them would have liked it to be but none of them had ever envisioned something like this. Numerous disturbing thoughts were going through his mind as he put them down in front of Callie.

He had to believe that his sister could fix this, he had to have faith in her and her abilities, the alternative was beyond reasonable thought, but even if the next few hours went well, Fenrir was going to be out of the game for a while. Damon knew then that he would have to take over as the Alpha wolf temporarily. It was a role he had never coveted, or envied in the least, however, as the Beta wolf, it was his responsibility when Fenrir wasn’t able; it was his place however much he hated it and he knew that he would have to be the pack’s strength in their toughest of moments until Fenrir came back to them.

Damon steeled himself, internally berating himself for allowing a moment of hesitation or to think on such matters when Fenrir’s very life was on the line. “What can I do?” he asked, dropping to his knees on the opposite side of the Alpha’s unconscious form from Callie. She said nothing but took his hands and pressed them down on a wad of bandages as she cast some unknown spell. His own knowledge of medical magic was frightfully limited; he could deal with little more than the most basic of scrapes and bruises.

It had always been Severus who had been the one to repair the breaks and fractures in the boys when they had fallen out of trees or off skateboards. It wasn’t a specialty that he and his sister shared. Though he should have been used to dealing with broken bones the amount of times Clayton had all but thrown himself off his skateboard trying out new tricks. It had paid off and he was an accomplished skateboarder now but he had suffered a fair amount of fractures and breaks to achieve that.

He watched her work for what felt like hours, but in reality was likely only minutes, before she yanked his hands away and when it didn’t bleed any more she moved to tending a different wound. “Check over Jenson for me,” she ordered, not taking her eyes off Fenrir as she closed up another deep, oozing gash with her wand, sealing his intestines securely inside of him once more. She had never been so thankful that a patient of hers was unconscious; treating him for his injuries was daunting enough without even thinking about the idea of having to do so whilst he was awake and screaming. There was no doubt in her mind that even the strong Alpha would have been screaming.

She vaguely noted Damon’s nod of understanding at her barked instruction, but she didn’t let her focus waver, her hands were already covered in blood and she was amazed by how steady they were as she alternated between pressure using the makeshift blanket bandages and the cleansing and healing spells.

Her clothing was saturated; she couldn’t even remember what colour they had been before they had become soaked to their current burgundy shade. And the smell, the metallic tang that was hanging in the air, like death itself, stung her eyes and made it harder to focus her energies exactly where they were needed. Though the dull stinging of her eyes might have been the tears she was refusing to cry. If she let those particular flood gates open then there would be no stopping them.

Damon hesitated to leave her alone with the Alpha, not because of lack of trust or lack of ability but because there was so much that had to be done that he didn’t think any one person could do it alone, however she seemed to be coping… just about. She seemed to need to be able to focus without any distractions and so he obeyed her command and went to Jenson.

The large red-head seemed to be having trouble catching his breath and was in obvious pain, wincing with every breath he took, his left arm hanging limply to his side. The strain he felt in drawing breath wasn’t being helped by the fact that he had propped the unconscious, and still blood soaked, Micha against his side as he tried valiantly to wake him; his attempts so far, however, had been futile.

“He won’t…” Jenson said with a gasped breath that showed exactly how much pain he was in, “...won’t wake…” Damon wasn’t sure if it was the shock of everything that had happened or purely the fact that he couldn’t rouse Micha but Jenson seemed to be genuinely upset, on the verge of tears. Damon had never seen the large werewolf like this and it was truly distressing to see.

“I know...,” Damon told him, sitting down in front of Jenson to help him with the younger wolf, “I know..., come on, Micha,” he said to the only slightly smaller man, moving Micha onto his lap so that he was off the cold ground; this also helped to relieve the pressure on Jenson’s injured body.

It was a little awkward given that Micha wasn’t that much smaller than Damon but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care as he tried to shake him gently awake. Micha still couldn’t be roused but gave a groan of complaint and tucked his head against Damon’s neck, where the older werewolf could feel his steady breaths. Damon decided that for now that would have to be close enough as he pulled a heavy blanket over Micha’s back and pulled it tightly around him to keep the cold away. The poor young wolf was in shock that was for sure and seeing the Alpha come back in such a state had just been too much for him, pushing him over the edge.

“Jenson!” Damon said in a sharp tone when he realised just how out of it the large man was looking. The red-head blinked at him wearily and with great effort managed to focus on the blond curled up in Damon’s lap. “Micha is going to be okay but I need you to work with me now,” the Beta, and acting Alpha, said in his most commanding tone.

Jenson managed to nod, as he shuffled a bit closer to Damon to allow him to check his injuries. “Do you think that the Alpha …?” he began to ask.

“Don’t!” Damon ordered with a warning look, as he managed to extract his wand from his pocket without so much as jostling Micha and cast the few medical examination spells he could remember, Callie having taught him the basics, the adrenaline in his body helping to bring back things he believed he had long ago forgotten.

Even though the Beta wolf had so very little experience with identifying injuries this severe, he managed, after a few attempts and some help and guidance from Jenson, to establish that large man had a dislocated shoulder and a badly bruised rib, rather than a broken one as Jenson had initially believed. He glanced back over at Callie who was still furiously working at healing the Alpha with all the expertise that she had. Damon was just relieved that Jenson wasn’t hurt any worse, as these were all the injuries that they could, more or less, manage between the two of them.

With Jenson’s accelerated werewolf healing he would be all right as long as they could put the shoulder back into his socket; some of the smaller abrasions, he had returned to the clearing with, were already beginning to seal up. However the red-head was still looking out of it, as if any attempt of getting to his feet would see him collapsing to the ground unconscious.

Damon took great care to lay Micha down on some blankets, momentarily missing the warmth of his body, before returning quickly to help Jenson set his shoulder back into the joint. The longer it was left the more pain Jenson would be in as his werewolf healing tried to repair his body. Jenson clenched his teeth and only let out a small shout as Damon popped his shoulder back into place, focusing on looking over at Callie and Fenrir to distract himself. Finally, when Damon had wrapped his arm into a sling, the Beta sat back down next to him.

“Do you really think that he will be…?” he started to say again, his tired brain scared of what could happen to their Alpha. He had seen the attack, he had watched as Russ had attacked Fenrir in an attempt to avenge his murdered brother.

“Jenson! Don’t!” Damon said again, his tone making it very clear that it was an order. He couldn’t bear thinking about the worst case scenario yet, and he certainly wasn’t about to discuss the possibility that Fenrir might not pull through. As far as Damon was concerned Fenrir, his oldest and best friend, was going to be fine and he was going to hold firmly onto that belief until the stubborn Alpha was cold and dead in the ground. Without Fenrir and his notorious reputation there was no telling what would happen to their pack.

Damon knew that he wasn’t a strong enough Alpha to be able to take over in the long term; he was sure that if Jenson challenged him on the position then he would have been overthrown. Damon only held the beta position as he was Fenrir’s oldest friend and because Jenson allowed it. Jenson was stronger and larger than him, though he might have willingly stepped aside if Jenson was to challenge him as he had no desire to be Alpha wolf, knowing that he just wasn’t cut out for the role.

“He’ll be fine!” Damon said with a low growl, though he was trying to convince himself as much as Jenson when he said it, casting an uncertain glance over at the crimson mud that surrounded Callie and Fenrir. It was a reminder that the death of their Alpha was a very real possibility. He had lost so much blood, if he hadn’t been a werewolf, if he hadn’t been a wizard, then he wouldn’t have even made it back to the clearing for them to attempt to heal him.

He glanced the other way across the clearing, in the direction of the stream, thinking that he could have done with having someone spare to go and make sure that the pups were alright. They were a strong pack of nine but three of them were pups, too young to shoulder the responsibility of a fully-fledged pack member, only four of them were strong fighters and that was down to three without Fenrir.

He couldn’t leave the young ones to their own devices right now, especially not Harry, who was bound to be in as much shock as Micha after everything that had happened. Who knew what had happened to him before the others had found him; there was no telling what state he would be in. Even though Lukas would have been useful to have helping in the clearing, he was needed more with the young wolves. It wouldn’t do for Fenrir to wake up and find out that the pack had failed to take care proper care of his mate while he was unconscious. But right now, he was all out of options, at least until Jenson’s strength returned.

FGHP

“I am not getting in while you’re here,” Harry snapped stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at his older pack brother, challenging him. Whether Lukas was a friend or not, Harry wasn’t about to start putting on a strip tease for him, he just wasn’t in the mood to be gawped at. He felt raw after what the strays had done, vulnerable and exposed. He didn’t even want to be looked at let alone touched by anyone.

“Harry, I am not leaving you here on your own. You were just attacked,” Lukas said with an exasperated sigh, thinking that he shouldn’t have had to explain this to the intelligent werewolf. He could, however, understand the pup's reluctance to undress in front of him right now, even his slight aversion to public displays of nudity in general, but they didn’t have the luxury to be bashful at the moment, not after everything that had happened.

“We’re in pack territory, we’re safe here, can you at least turn around?” Harry pleaded, letting his arms flop back down to his sides pathetically, feeling utterly defeated; he had nothing left.

Lukas was a good friend to him, and he was someone that he really looked up to, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take a bath in front of him. It was humiliating enough that he had pissed himself and every single one of the pack knew it too. Harry had hated how Damon had yelled at him; he knew that the Beta of the pack blamed him for what had happened and rightfully so, seeing as it was his fault.

“I already told you that I am not taking my eyes off you, not even for a second, little one. Do you think I want the Alpha, or even Damon for that matter, to ring my neck because I couldn’t keep you safe?” Lukas asked rhetorically, meeting Harry’s stubborn gaze with one of his own.

He knew that most of the pack thought him a bit of a pushover and not as strong as the rest of them, and he was happy to let them keep believing that, but he hadn’t had the easy life they all seemed to believe he had. He could and would be as bolshie and pig-headed as the rest of them if and when the occasion called for it. Like right now.

“Oh and I am DEFINITELY not getting naked with them watching as well!” Harry raged as he waved a hand in the general direction of where he had spotted Clay and Romy approaching. Standing here in front of Lukas was bad enough; his best friend and pack sister appearing just made it ten times worse.

Lukas turned and saw the other two pups approaching; he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Harry!” he pleaded, opening his eyes once more and running his hand through his curly chestnut hair having had enough of the teen’s attitude and stubbornness to last a life time.

It was the early hours of the morning, he hadn’t had a single cup of tea since the previous evening, before he had gone to sleep, and all he wanted to do was get back to the rest of the pack and find out what the hell had happened and boil enough water to make several large cups of tea to sooth his frayed nerves. Fenrir and Jenson hadn’t been back when he had removed Harry from the clearing and he was anxious to see if they had returned and if they were okay.

He was sure that if Fenrir had been back and able then he would have been checking on his mate and the fact that it was Romy and Clayton that had come to join them didn’t register as a good thing to Lukas. He couldn’t, however, go back and check on the state of things until Harry had done as he was told and cleaned himself up a bit. He also wouldn’t leave the three pups unattended, not until he knew that they were out of danger.

He knew better than to believe he would be able to get any sort of information from Harry right now; the boy had gone through too much tonight and, despite being a very resilient young man, he was in no state to be recounting the evening’s events. Clay however didn’t seem to share this sentiment for protecting Harry’s emotional well-being.

“What the fuck happened?” Clay asked the moment he was close enough to them to be heard. Harry had tensed up, remembering none too fondly the clip round the ear he had received upon returning to the pack. He wasn’t exactly please with his so called best friend right now.

Clayton was aware that he had to pretend that he hadn’t seen the Alpha come back in such a bad way; he couldn’t let Harry think that there was anything out of the ordinary. Damon had asked them to keep Harry and Lukas here, they couldn’t risk raising suspicions. He knew that his friend would go rushing back if he knew that Fenrir had returned and was injured to the point that he might not make it through the night.

“We thought you would be done washing by now,” Romy said, looking quite disgusted at the state of Harry and his clothing.

She hadn’t been awake enough to really take in his appearance back in the clearing, when he had first returned, but now she could see just how much of a mess he was and it made her all the more curious as to what had happened. She surveyed the torn shoulder of his t-shirt that was rimmed with blood and the torn jeans that were practically hanging off him which were also tainted with blood. Everything was covered with mud, from his ruined clothing to his skin and hair. He truly was a sight to behold.

Harry looked over at the two of them with a tired exasperation, not wanting to talk about what had happened, nor why he was stubbornly refusing to get into the stream to wash himself of the dirt and grime. His jeans were ripped and damp from where he had pissed himself and his boxers, though not torn, were still wet and uncomfortable and he was dying to get them off; he truly wanted to feel clean again, to be out of his clothing but not at the expense of humiliating himself further.

He could still feel the place on his neck and cheek where the other Alpha had licked him, the memory sent a shiver of revulsion down his spine. It really wasn’t the washing part that bothered him, he wanted to get clean more than anything and Lukas had even put a heating charm on the stream for him already, so he knew it would be warm, but Harry felt so self-conscious about stripping off in front of the others. It was so much worse than on the full moon because at least when they were about to transform into their wolf counterparts none of them really had any choice in the matter and everyone would be equally as exposed.

“Come on,” Lukas tried to encouraged, “Damon said…”

“I don’t care what Damon said!” Harry snapped angrily, his fists tugging self-consciously at his torn clothing.

He already felt so vulnerable, so unclothed and violated, from how the strays had spoken to him, manhandled him, cut at him. He flinched at the memories and bit his lip as a way to remind himself that he was safe now, Fenrir had come and saved him. He needed to keep reminding himself that they couldn’t touch him here to stop himself from folding over on to himself and just giving up.

The shoulder of his t-shirt had taken the brunt of the damage done by the branch; it had barely pierced the skin at all; though, there was dried blood, which meant the small amount of accelerated healing he had, which wasn’t affected by the potion, had done its job and healed the worst of it already. But it wasn’t the physical injuries that were affecting him, he couldn’t feel them so they didn’t bother him, the worst thing was how scared he still felt. The fear hadn’t ebbed at all since the moment he had been pinned to the tree. All he wanted was to be in his Alpha’s arms and he wouldn’t feel safe until he was.

Romy stared at him, meeting his eyes; there was ferocity in her gaze that Harry wasn’t sure he had ever noticed in her before. However it was short lived as apparently whatever she saw in his eyes she either didn’t like or couldn’t handle, because she turned away with a small intake of breath. She backed away from the teenager, who she counted as a friend, as well as another pack brother; she just didn’t recognize him in the state he was in. She had seen fear and uncertainty in his eyes, terror that she could relate to in so many ways. It wasn’t something she was used to from him, she was accustomed to cocky assurance and over-confidence, not the horror that had replaced it.

Romy found herself a rock just a short distance from the boys and sat herself on it, facing away from them with her knees up to her chest. Clay watched her with concern, as did Lukas, not knowing what it was that she had seen in Harry to force her to retreat into herself, but at least she wasn’t going anywhere. Romy was too cautious to do anything reckless like run off, even if she did feel as if she needed to be alone. Past experience had taught her some touch lessons on that front. It allowed Lukas, and unfortunately Clayton as well, to turn their attention back to the problem at hand, Harry.

Lukas sighed and willed himself to find the energy and mental strength he was going to need to deal with the situation presented to him. He loved Harry like a little brother; they shared a high level of intelligence and could have long, intense and serious debates on a variation of subjects; the boy was smart without a doubt, opinionated too and they got on well, but this side of the teenager was not something that he liked to see often.

The stroppy, argumentative young man, who relished in anything rebellious, was not a person he wanted to spend time with, and truthfully he just didn’t know how to deal with him when he was in one of these moods. Even the playful, practical joker side of him was better than this and Lukas had never been one for playing tricks.

“What happened?!” Clayton demanded again, more forcefully this time, his arms folded across his chest, glaring at his best friend accusingly. He needed to know what had happened, not just while Harry had been out of the territory but also why Harry had decided, yet again, to run away from them. They were supposed to be family; they were meant to talk things through and protect each other. He couldn’t understand why Harry didn’t get that.

Lukas was already apprehensive about the situation given Harry’s mood, and became more on edge with the tone that Clayton used when addressing the fragile and shaken Harry. They might not have been together as a pack for more than a couple of months but already he was well aware of how quickly and passionately the two older pups could turn on each other. It was clear that they cared for each other deeply and sometimes that could turn into something a lot more violent when they butted heads.

There was no doubt that Harry and Clayton loved each other as brothers, but they fought just like real brothers would and things could take a turn for the worse in the blink of an eye. Clayton had already given Harry a clip round the ear in his frustration this evening, which hadn’t been a good move to make after everything Harry had been through. It also seemed that they weren’t done with working out all their frustrations just yet.

“We were attacked,” Harry bit out. He was talking to his friend as if he were stupid when he knew that Clayton was anything but.

Harry felt like he was being pulled in so many directions all at once; he wanted to curl up and cry, hide from the world and never let anyone lay a finger on him ever again; he wanted to fight, prove himself, show those bastards that he wasn’t some bitch to be just taken and claimed; he wanted to get back to the clearing and make sure that Fenrir, and Jenson, and Micha, were all alright; he wanted to be able to stop feeling so damn scared that the stray werewolf pack were going to come back and finish what they started.

Harry let out a frustrated sob of rage, finally losing control as he turned away from the others and pulled frantically at his hair, trying to calm his mind for just a second, brushing at his face roughly to rid himself of his traitorous tears. But his body was refusing to calm down as the fear still played over in his mind remaining fresh as if it were still real and feeling as though it was still pressing in all around him and he had no hope of escape. The adrenaline wouldn’t leave his body, his heart racing frantically making him want to vomit.

“I’m going to go and get you clean clothes,” Lukas said, looking uneasily between the two pups knowing that it wasn’t a good idea to leave them unsupervised.

Harry seemed to be having a slight mental breakdown and he really wasn’t keen on leaving him in the state he was currently in. However they were getting nowhere fast and Lukas hoped that if Harry had something clean to put on then he might be able to convince him to take a wash and at least get the worst of the dirt off if he had something else to put on after he was done.

Romy was still sat silently on her rock, but her body was rigid and tensed. She was grateful that she at least knew her Dad was alive and not seriously injured but it was all she could do not to think about Fenrir too closely, or that look that she had seen in Harry’s eyes. It had been bad, really bad, she knew that much and she was only just about keeping herself together when she want to curl up between her adoptive parents, knowing that they would keep the world away. Fenrir had become just as important to her as either Callie or Jenson, all of the pack had and it was strange to feel this way when she had never really been close to her biological family, going so far as to say that she hated her older brother.

“And no fighting! Or I’ll be forced to tell Damon,” Lukas said as he started to head back to the clearing, his warning echoed over to them sternly as he hurried away.

He was apprehensive about letting them out of his sight for even a second but he was sure the three of them together would be safe for the couple of minutes he required to fetch the items he needed. He glanced back over his shoulder nervously, knowing that he needed to hurry and feeling grateful that he knew where Harry stored his things and wasn’t quite as messy as some of his other pack brothers.

“Harry!” Clay snapped impatiently, torn between being worried and fucking furious. Wanting his friend to stop freaking him out, it honestly looked like Harry was on the verge of completely losing his mind.

Harry was pacing, trying to get his erratic breathing back under control, starving off a panic attack and holding back his tears, which he was still trying to hide behind his hands. He didn’t even dare look in Clay’s direction; his pack brother knew him too well and one look in his eyes at the moment and Clay would know how scared he was. He would have known how close he was to breaking down and losing himself in his pain. Harry couldn’t handle the shit load of sympathy that would rain down upon him if that happened, sympathy was the one thing he was sure he couldn’t handle right now. He was just so angry and he needed Clayton to be angry too.

Harry realised that he was verging on furious. He hated that he had been ordered away from the clearing; Damon had had no right to force him to leave. He had wanted to go back and make sure that Fenrir was all right, he should have ignored them all and gone to his Alpha, his mate, the consequences be damned; he just wanted to see Fenrir. It was the not knowing that was making everything so much worse right now, his mind feeling as if it were about to explode. It was all too much, he needed an outlet; he was spoiling for a fight.

“Harry!! What the FUCK happened?” Clayton shouted in frustration.

And it seemed that Clay would be the one to rise to the bait and give him what he needed. “We were fucking attacked!” Harry shouted back, finally turning his rage on his best friend. He let the anger take over; his eyes narrowed in fury and his blood pumping loudly in his ears, his adrenaline high somehow still on going. He clenched his fists as his body tensed.

“I mean before that,” Clay said, his entire body rigid at seeing just how far beyond reason Harry seemed to have been pushed; he had never seen his best friend look at anyone that way before, let alone at him.“Why did you leave? There must have been a reason!” He desperately wanted to understand. There was no words to describe the level of betrayal he felt. Leaving the way Harry had, sneaking off in the dead of night yet again, it was not only a betrayal of the pack but also their friendship. This knowledge was eating at him and he needed answers, he needed for Harry to explain why he had done it.

Harry huffed, and gritted his teeth, it was hard to think with his mind buzzing wildly with so many thoughts that it was confusing him. It felt like an age ago, another lifetime, when he had sat under the tree fuming about the conversation he had overheard between Damon and Fenrir, he didn’t even know how to start to explain how hurt and betrayed he had felt when he had heard just how many secrets were being kept from him. He had felt oblivious to everything going on around him and he had hated it, especially when he thought he could trust them.

“What business is it of yours?” Harry snarled, trying to reign back his anger slightly and copying Clayton’s defensive stance by crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.

“It’s my business because I’m supposed to be your best friend,” Clay said angrily, hardly able to believe they were back to Harry keeping things from him again, he had hoped they had managed to get past this. “I thought you were over all this running away bullshit!” Clay said, taking a step towards Harry as he struggled to keep from yelling.

He had to admit the step that Harry took away from him in that moment hurt, it cut at him somewhere deep inside; surely Harry didn’t think that he would actually harm him in anyway. Clay wanted to shout and scream and stamp his feet. As much as he wanted to yell at Harry he didn’t want to attract the attention of the others who would be trying to help their Alpha.

Clay wanted Harry to understand that he was screwing everything up; if Harry could stop overreacting to every little thing, then they could all settle into being a real pack, a real family. Clay had spent his life helping keeping Harry safe, waiting for the day they could all go to the territory. This was supposed to be a happy time, the best time of their lives, and Harry was fucking it all up. He was desperate to know why.

Harry was ruining everything. Clay had seen the terrible state that Fenrir had been in; as much as his father had tried to hurry him away before he saw it, Clay had seen enough to know that the Alpha might be dying. Could their pack survive the loss of their leader? All he knew was that it was Harry’s fault and for the first time in his life he hated Harry’s recklessness. If Harry hadn’t run then it wouldn’t have happened.

“You shouldn’t have run away!” Clayton yelled, he had wanted to sound angry, but his voice wavered with sadness too.

“Yeah well, forgive me for not wanting to be around the man that bit me!” Harry snapped, suddenly having enough of Clay’s seemingly righteous anger. He needed to make him understand that he hadn’t done it for no reason, he hadn’t just decided he had had enough and gone. He had needed to get some head space and he couldn’t do that when he was so conflicted about how he felt about the Alpha.

“Bit you?” Clayton asked, surprised that something like that had been a reason behind why his friend had run. Most of them had been bitten, only Micha and Jenson were born werewolves. “What do you mean? Who bit you?” Very few people knew their sires. Clayton didn’t know his, though he sometimes thought that he would have liked to, he didn’t understand what the big deal was.

“Fenrir,” Harry said with a scowl, his fist clenching more tightly, nails digging into the palm of his hand and Clay strongly suspected that his friend was resisting the urge to start hitting something.

“The Alpha bit you? I don’t understand,” Clay said, shaking his head. It didn’t make any sense. Why had Harry suddenly freaked out about that and run now? Unless...“You just found this out now?” he asked, wondering if it was related to what his father and the Alpha had been talking about while Harry was faking sleep. Idiots, he thought to himself. It was, as he thought this that he realised that perhaps Harry wasn’t entirely at fault for this. The Alpha and his Beta should have known better; Damon especially should have known what Harry was like.

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I did, and your Dad knew about it too,” he told him angrily. “Maybe you knew too,” he snarled, his voice full of accusation as he jabbed a finger in Clay’s direction before crossing his arms over his chest again.

“I didn’t,” Clay told him in a quiet and cold voice, “and how come YOU didn’t know before?” he asked, with confusion. “How would you not remember something like that?!”

“Because I was one and a half! My Dad told me that much,” Harry explained, glaring at his friend with suspicious bitterness. “He just neglected to mention exactly WHO it was.”

“Well, that still isn’t an excuse to fucking run off!” Clayton argued, not really sure what else to say. He couldn't see why it would be such a big issue that Harry would leave. “So what if the Alpha bit you, big deal. He still made sure that there was someone there to always watch over you, he protected you and you repay him by fucking running off and now …” Clay hesitated, thinking better of mentioning the state in which Fenrir had returned to the clearing.

“Now what?" Harry demanded. "What were you going to say?” he asked, not being stupid enough to fail to pick up on his best friend’s slip up. He knew something wasn’t right and he wanted to know; he was completely sick of all the half-truths and full blown lies.

Hearing the danger in Harry’s voice Romy turned to look at them, getting to her feet. She didn’t want to see them hurt each other but wasn't sure whether to run and find Lukas or get between the two of them before they started to physically hurt each other. Neither of the boys was paying her the slightest bit of attention though.

“Never mind!” Clay snarled. He was furious, his fists now clenched at his sides. He wanted to tell Harry how it was his fault, he wanted to make his friend understand just how stupid he had been but he had to resist or else Harry would undoubtedly run straight back to the clearing and that wasn’t somewhere any of them needed to be right now. The older pack members needed time and space to heal those that had been injured.

“Now what, Clayton?!” Harry demanded again, not giving up. His best friend was hiding something and he was going to find out what it was no matter what it took.

“Clayton…!” Romy hissed in warning.

She was keeping her distance but knew that her cousin's temper was barely holding and that he was about to explode; when that happened the results weren’t going to be pleasant. She glanced around nervously, wondering what was taking Lukas so long, she really didn’t want to get between Harry and Clay. Both of them were larger than her, stronger too; though it had never been put to the test, she was sure that she wasn't a match for either of them individually, let alone together.

Harry unfolded his arms and clenched his fists in an unconscious mimic of Clay; the more his best friend avoided the question the angrier Harry was becoming and now it sounded like Romy was hiding things too. Was there anyone in the whole pack that he could trust?

“What do you care? You clearly don’t even want to be here!” Clayton said hatefully, taking several steps forward , so that they were barely a step from each other. He couldn’t believe that Harry had been stupid enough to try and run away again when things were so dangerous for them as a pack. He wanted to do a lot more than just give him a clip round the ear this time.

“Of course I care!” Harry raged, feeling largely unsettled with Clay being so close to him, every fibre of his body was telling him to put some distance between them as his heart rate speed up to an uncontrollable level, but Harry drew the line at fearing his own best friend; his instincts could shut up.

On some level he knew that Clay wouldn’t hurt him, at least not seriously, just as surely as he knew his friend wouldn’t understand his reasoning’s as to why he’d had to leave. Yes, Harry had run away, but he had changed his mind, he had wanted to come back; he had tried to come back the moment he had realised his mistake. He could barely get his own thoughts around that so it was doubtful he would be able to explain that to Clay in a way he would understand and certainly not while they were standing chest to chest, the tension thick between them.

“Stop this,” Romy pleaded tentatively. She was never one for confrontation but Lukas was still nowhere to be seen and the way the two teenage boys were going at each other it wasn’t going to end well. “With everything that’s going on are you two seriously going to start fighting?”

“What’s going on, what aren't you telling me?” Harry demanded, rounding on Romy now, furious that he had been right about her keeping secrets too. He was beginning to feel extremely isolated and when paired with the feeling of violation and fear he was very close to breaking down completely. “Tell me what the fuck it is that you’re trying to hide from me!” he insisted, taking several steps towards his rather alarmed looking pack sister who seemed terrified that Harry was suddenly directing his rage at her.

“Leave her alone!” Clay said, grabbing hold of Harry’s shoulder and turning him so that he was away from Romy; he didn’t want her to get hurt, this was between the two of them. No one was going to hurt her on his watch, not while he was able to defend her.

Harry was still shaken from his encounter with the strays and he hadn’t expected to be grabbed in such a way, so the second that he felt the hand upon his shoulder he reacted purely on instinct; he raised his arm in a violent swing and he shoved the hand that had grabbed him away and slammed the fist of his other hand directly into Clayton’s jaw. Romy rose her hands to cover her mouth in shock, it had happened so quickly and taken her by surprise. It was all she could do not to scream at them to stop.

Not having expected it, Clay staggered from the force of the blow and fell to the floor. Harry pounced upon him, as fear flooded his body, he would never give anyone the chance to hurt him again, he had to fight back, he wouldn’t be vulnerable or weak ever again. He never again wanted to feel so out of control in a situation. He had to prove to himself that he could take care of himself.

It took a moment for Harry to realise that it was Clay that he was leaning over and not one of the stray wolves that had attacked him and by that point he had decided that he had had more than enough of being lied to and was going to find out what they were hiding using the skills he had at his disposal. He was beyond tired of having secrets kept from him his entire life and he wasn’t about to let his so called best friend get away with doing just that as well.

He allowed himself a split second to revel in the feeling of finally being in control, in having proved, at least to himself, that he wasn’t just some weak submissive that needed protection, he wasn’t just some helpless bitch to be played with. Pinning Clay to the floor with his whole body he forced the other teen to make eye contact with him, emerald green meeting dark brown and that was all Harry needed. His dad had been a good teacher after all.

Clay, of course, had no idea what was going on as Harry delved deep into his mind, searching for the answers that he was frustratingly being denied. With the way the mind worked made it easy for Harry to find exactly what he wanted, because the harder Clay tried to hide, what it was he didn’t want Harry to know, the easier it was to find. It was so simple for Harry to find the memory that he had wanted, a memory that both horrified and sickened him.

Fenrir was hurt; badly, Harry realised, as the images of Jenson holding the Alpha’s battered and bloodied body easily came to the front of Clay’s mind. But the reality of it started to sink in and Harry struggled to come to terms with what it was he was seeing. He almost wanted to believe that it was a lie, a memory from a different time and that Fenrir wasn’t hurt, that he was fine but Harry couldn’t lie to himself. It was clear that the Alpha was critically injured, maybe even dead, and it was all his fault. What had he done?!

Retreating back out of Clayton’s head Harry lost himself for a moment. Suddenly, taking full advantage of that moment, Clayton flipped them over and their roles were reversed. Harry felt panic and terror as he realised he was trapped again; Clay was certainly slightly larger than Harry, considerably stronger too and the younger of the two found it hard to get any leverage to buck Clay off of him, despite his crying, and screaming, and frantic kicking, and shoving, to get the other boy off him.

Clay was horrified of the sudden change in Harry from controlled anger to completely freaking out. He wanted to let Harry up, to allow him some space but the other teen seemed to genuinely be terrified about something, beyond rational thought and Clay was sure that he wouldn’t be able to let go without one, or both, of them getting injured.

Romy watched on in horror, crouching down and wrapping her arms around herself as she cried softly; she had no idea what to do other than to allow little whispered pleas for them to stop escape her lips.

Harry needed to get to Fenrir; the Alpha would protect him, but he needed to make sure that the Alpha was okay too. The thoughts in his head didn’t make sense, it was scary and horrible and Harry wanted it all to stop and go away. He just wanted to feel safe and secure again. He felt fingers wrap around one of his wrists and it was too much for him to handle and Harry reared his head back and slammed it forward straight into Clay’s nose with all the strength he could managed. He had to get away, he didn’t want anyone but the Alpha to touch him.

Romy screamed, crying even harder and hugging her own legs tighter, as blood began to spurt everywhere. Clayton stumbled backwards off Harry, clutching at his broken nose, “FUCK, HARRY!” he bellowed as best he could through the blood streaming down his face. Whatever he had been expecting it wasn’t to be head butted, he had seriously underestimated his best friend's fighting abilities.

Harry took his chance; he was riled up with a combination of the fear that was still consuming him and the pent up frustration after everything that had happened and all the secrets that had been kept from him. He pounced at his best friend again, only vaguely aware that an extremely distressed, and crying, Romy was calling out for Lukas, and for her Mum, and for her Dad, even for the Alpha, though she knew he wouldn’t come; she just wanted the fighting to stop.

Clay however had been ready, grabbing at Harry’s fists with blood-coated hands, ignoring the pain in his nose. He wanted to put a stop to this himself, without the aid of the grown-ups. Though he wasn’t going to be able to hide it from them now that Harry had broken his nose but they would need to know anyway because there was clearly something more going on with Harry, than Clay was able to understand. It was more than just who had bitten him, more than grieving the loss of his dad. There was so much more going on in Harry’s head than any one of the pack truly realised.

The younger werewolf was not about to let Clay take hold of his wrists without a fight and as the older teen tried to take hold of him, Harry swung for his friend several more times. “Stop Harry!” Clayton pleaded but to no avail. He spat out the mouthful of blood he had ended up with, thanks to his, very much broken, nose, ensuring to aim away from Harry and from Romy too.

He wasn’t sure exactly what happened but the pair of them suddenly found themselves rolling around in the dirt of the forest floor, limbs flailing wildly as punches were thrown and kicks dealt until finally Clay managed to find purchase and pinned Harry to the ground once again. His blood still trickled relentlessly down his chin, dripping on to Harry, only adding to the blood and dirt already covering the younger of the two teenagers.

Clay started to punching Harry in the jaw, part of him wanted to subdue his friend who was quite clearly distressed, but he wouldn’t deny that he also kind of wanted revenge for the broken nose and also whatever Harry had been doing, rummaging around in his head. He got in at least three hits before someone grabbed him from behind and heaved him off of Harry, throwing him quite violently away.

“What the hell… is going on here?!” Lukas shouted in anger and worry, his breath coming in harsh pants from the extension of having thrown the other werewolf several feet. “I leave you alone... for a few minutes... and you resort to a damn fist fight?”

He hurried over to Romy, who clenched her fists onto the front of his robes desperately, cuddling up against him tears streaming down her cheeks. “I thought you two were meant to be best friends!” he yelled at them, angry that not only were they fighting but they had clearly terrified Romy too.

“He did something to me! He was inside my head!” Clay said angrily. He wiped away more blood from his face with the back of his hand, and stared at where Harry had sat himself up, as he tried to stem the flow from his own bleeding nose.

Lukas turned to look at Harry in surprise, realising then that the pup looked almost as scared as Romy did and had curled himself up, holding his legs to his chest as he started to cry himself, blood soaking into already ruined jeans and, even from many feet away, Lukas could see that he was trembling.

“Harry … is that true?” Lukas asked. He had heard of the kind of magic that Clay was talking about but he had never known of a child so young to have mastered it. Though he wasn’t entirely surprised that Harry was capable of such advanced magic; the teenager was certainly smart enough to have picked it up if he had a competent teacher.

“I’m so sick of people keeping secrets from me, not telling me anything!” Harry snapped, looking up to glare at Lukas. He had been so scared and only now was he starting to be able to think again. He wanted to feel the pain from the fight, he wanted to feel anything other than numb but he couldn’t; he felt nothing.

“Harry…” Lukas said, trying to calm him, but knowing he couldn’t go to Harry while Romy was still clinging to him as though for dear life. This was too much for him to handle on his own, but from the state of things in the clearing he wasn’t going to get much help. Harry needed to be taken care of and Lukas couldn’t do that while he had to worry about Clayton and Romy too.

“He wouldn’t tell me what was going on,” Harry said pathetically, the rage fading from his tone as he leant his head against his knees again, hiding himself and his tears away from the others.

He felt utterly humiliated for freaking out in front of them and knew that Clay would want answers that he just wasn’t ready to give. Though, he did feel as if he had been justified in his actions when he had delved into Clay’s mind to get the answers that he had wanted, that had been denied him via normal methods of communication. All Harry could think was that he needed to get to his Alpha, his mate, and the only person standing in his way now was Lukas and he knew that he would never be baited into a fight, not like Clay would. Lukas was far too smart and logical for that.

“But now I know,” Harry said forcing himself to look up at Clay with sad eyes. The images of Fenrir, that he had dragged from his friends mind, that had been forgotten in the midst of his panic and their tussle, now came flooding back making his stomach churn violently but he had nothing in his stomach to throw up, not having eaten a full meal in a couple of days.

Lukas knew he needed to look after Harry, he knew he needed to look after all of them but he needed to be able to focus on Harry. He also needed to keep the peace between them all. It was obvious, by the look of Clay’s nose that they weren't going to be able to keep the incident from the others; he could also clearly see that Harry’s jaw was swiftly turning purple. This wasn’t going to work with all of the pups together with emotions running as high as they were.

“Romy,” he said, encouraging the youngest of the pups to look up at him, “I need you take Clayton to your Mum, she’ll be able to heal him.”

Romy’s eyes flashed with panic as she glanced over at Clay, who had a hand over his nose and was looking a little grey. After a moment, and a quick glance at Harry, she nodded mutely and Lukas helped her to her feet. To start with she was a little unsteady but soon became determined to get back to her parents, where she knew that she would be safe and protected.

Harry and Lukas watched as Clay reluctantly followed Romy back towards the clearing and the rest of the pack, leaving them alone once again. Romy didn’t look back, her arms wrapped around herself and keeping her distance from Clay, who shot Harry an angry look over his shoulder. Harry however couldn’t bring himself to care, he was drowning, it was the only way he could describe it. Knowing how badly Fenrir was hurt and knowing that it was because of what he had done, it was too much to handle and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe.

“So,” Lukas said as he gathered up the clean clothes for Harry that he had fetched, having dropped them the moment he had come back and seen them fighting. “What is it that you think you know?” he asked calmly, as he settled himself down next to Harry.

He noticed the way Harry flinched away from him, despite, having taken such care not to get close enough to brush against him or touch him in any way. It was clear that whatever had shaken the teen, it meant that Harry didn’t want anyone getting too close to him at the moment. Lukas could work with that; he was nothing if not patient. He placed Harry’s clean clothing down in front of them and waited. It took minutes, many of them, but Harry started to relax; Lukas made no move to touch him or say anything, prepared to let Harry realise in his own time that he was safe and that nothing was going to happen to him.

“Fenrir,” Harry said softly, and though the teen keep his head down and Lukas thought he might have been crying. “He’s been hurt ...badly,” he continued, still not looking up, his eyes fixed on the clean clothing.

Harry wanted to be clean, he wanted to remove the smells of blood and urine that were doing nothing but making everything feel like it was still happening; it was as though he was still held against that tree in the woods. He could feel the rough tongue of Gideon against his skin and it made him want to scream that he belonged to no one, that only Fenrir was allowed to touch him.

He wasn’t in any more danger though, he had to keep reminding himself of that. The Alpha had found him and saved him, he was back in their territory and he was sitting here with Lukas. This werewolf would never hurt him and might even tell him the truth now if he asked.

“Yes, he has,” Lukas said with a sigh, giving Harry a sad smile when the teen managed to turn his head slightly to look at him. “But you can’t help him right now. The best thing you can do is to do as Damon asked of you. Clean up and then you can go and see him.”

Harry nodded and bit his lip; Lukas was right, he couldn’t go back to the clearing in the state he was in and he would feel much better being close to the Alpha right now and being able to see for himself that Fenrir wasn’t dead. He stifled a whimper as images of the Alpha splayed out on the ground dead assaulted his mind and he had to remind himself that it wasn’t real; that wasn't what he had seen in Clay's mind.

Lukas decided to be patient again, it worked well before, and sure enough after a couple of minutes Harry got up and hesitantly started to remove his tattered shirt. Not wanting to discourage him, Lukas kept his focus firmly in front of him, so that he would only see Harry in his peripheral vision. He listened as the teen removed the rest of his clothing and heard the sloshing of water that indicated that Harry had finally got into the stream. It had taken a long while, and a bloody fist fight, but they had managed to get there in the end.

“Is it still warm?” Lukas asked, as he moved over to sit closer to the bank where Harry had gotten in, wanting to make sure that the heating charm was still in place. The last thing Harry needed was to be bathing in cold water. He kept his eyes down so not to stare and make the teen uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled quietly, “thanks.”

Lukas considered his thoughts for a moment, keeping Harry just on the edge of his vision, before he spoke. “I saw your potion ingredients,” he stated and Harry froze. Lukas had been in his bag to get the clean clothes, of course he had seen them. Lukas turned to look directly at Harry; glaring at the teen as Harry crossed his arms over his exposed chest protectively. Lukas made sure that he kept eye contact, not letting his gaze wander anywhere else but needing to let the teenager know how serious he considered the matter to be.

Lukas turned away from him again, feeling that Harry had received the message. “The second that Fenrir is better you will find a time to tell him,” he said sternly, “because, if you don’t, I will.” He heard Harry let out a small noise of distress, and flicked his eyes to him. He was fine, but his eyes were wide and fearful, pleading even. “I love you like a kid brother, Harry, I’m not going to let you keep hurting yourself with that stuff,” Lukas told him flatly.

“I need …” Harry began to say but was swiftly cut off by a stern glare from Lukas, who dared him to say that he needed it.

“No you don’t!” he snapped irritably, “Aconite can kill us, Harry.” Lukas ran his hand through his hair in frustration and worry for his little pack brother, who didn’t seem to understand exactly what he had been doing to himself. “Honestly there is no wonder you’re not feeling pain, it probably has a lot to do with your weakened senses too.” Lukas said as he got to his feet, pacing back and forward along the edge of the stream. He was glad that Harry at least couldn’t run from this conversation, not without exposing himself more than he would comfortable doing. “Merlin, you’ve done some serious damage to yourself! I thought the two of us were friends, Harry …”

“We are!” Harry tried to insist.

“Then prove it, little one, please stop taking whatever potion you’re brewing,” Lukas said, stopping his pacing so to turn and meet Harry’s eyes pleadingly. “Please stop hurting yourself like this.”

“But it hurt so much,” Harry said with a whimper at the remembered pain of the previous full moon. “The potion, it makes it better.”

Lukas looked at him carefully. Harry was not particularly small for his age or anything but standing in the stream with sad wide eyes staring up at Lukas, a pleading desperation on his face, he looked practically tiny. Lukas hated that the strong, fierce, frankly difficult, teen could be reduced to this and, despite his earlier thoughts, he wished that he could have the wilful and rebellious young man back because anything was better than seeing him look so scared and defeated. “You mean the transformations?” he asked him, needing to understand.

Harry nodded mutely, and apparently unable to stand looking at Lukas a moment longer he turned around and faced the other way, starting to scrub the grime from his body. He carefully washed at his shoulder wound, knowing he needed to make sure it was clean. The skin where the branch had caught him was red raw but he felt no pain from it. The cut that Gideon had made on his thigh was practically gone now.

Lukas thought on that. It didn’t quite make sense; if Harry had been taking his potion and it made the transformations easier for him, why had he been in such pain on the previous full moon. It took him a few moments to draw his own conclusions from this. “You… you haven’t been taking the right dosage have you?” Lukas questioned and after a few moments he saw Harry shake his head.

Well that explained a lot, Lukas figured. “Once the potion is out of your system it won’t hurt so much,” he reassured him. “Just please, don’t take it anymore, it’s extremely dangerous. Promise me Harry, please.” For a boy who usually didn't feel pain at all, a painful transformation would be almost beyond imagining; it wouldn't be numbed much by his damaged nerves as the hurt would be directly in his spine and brain, but Lukas was sure without the potion, it would become so much more manageable.

“What if I hurt someone?” Harry almost whispered.

Lukas sighed, he understood that fear; he had been scared of that same thing before he had really experienced the full moons with the pack. “You won’t,” he tried to assure him, “I have learnt to trust in the pack; after all, they couldn’t have been here as long as they have if they were hunting humans once a month.” Lukas sat back down on the edge of the bank. “I’m sure we’re safe here. If I wasn’t sure I’d still be at home locking myself in my own cage. If you trust me, and my judgement as friends should, then you’ll promise me you won’t take that potion again.”

Harry didn’t say anything but he made his way over to bank once he was done ensuring that every inch of him was scrubbed clean. He had been desperate to remove all traces of the strays and their disgusting Alpha from his skin. Lukas looked away to give Harry a moment to climb out and cast a drying charm.

“Is he going to be okay?” Harry asked as he pulled on his clean boxers, relishing in finally feeling clean. “In Clay’s memory… he looked... bad. Really bad,” he added as he slipped into his fresh pair of jeans.

Lukas looked back at him and watched as Harry pulled the clean shirt over his own head. “Callie is fixing him up right now,” Lukas told him, sounding as exhausted as he felt. “She reckons that if he can survive through the night then he’ll live but he’ll be unconscious for a while, his body will need time to heal.”

Harry nodded silently, glad that Lukas was at least willing to answer the questions he asked directly and didn’t appear to be lying to him. Holding back his tears Harry forced himself to look away. He didn’t want Lukas to think that he was unable to handle hearing the truth. The adrenaline surge he had felt during his fight with Clay was all but gone from his body, and now that he felt clean again, he was near the point of exhaustion. He wavered where he stood, struggling to stay on his own two feet and not to just allow his body to give in and go to sleep.

He couldn’t sleep, at least not yet. He wanted to go back to the clearing first and make sure the rest of his pack were all right. He wanted to make sure that Clay had been healed and that Romy wasn’t scared of him. He needed to ensure that Fenrir was the only one that had been seriously injured before he would allow himself to curl up with the Alpha and go to sleep. He wouldn’t sleep anywhere other than in his mates arms', and no one was going to convince him otherwise.

“Can we…?” Harry asked, “... can we go back now?” He looked to Lukas pleadingly, hoping to convey just how much he needed to be back in the clearing where he would know what was happening and be able to watch over Fenrir however long it took for him to recover.

Lukas sighed and nodded; he had no further reason to delay Harry, now that the teenager was washed and clean, and so reluctantly he decided it was probably time for them to head back. Dawn was beginning to break now and none of them were exactly well rested after the events of the night. Lukas knew that he probably wasn’t the only one that he could do with a nice cup of tea, he’d certainly need one if he was ever going to get through the coming day.

He thought that perhaps Harry would benefit from one too; judging by the state of him it might have been beneficial to force him to eat or drink something before he went to sleep. “Come on,” he said, hesitantly putting his hand on Harry’s shoulder, smiling when the teen didn’t flinch or move away from him.

“You used Legilimency on Clay didn’t you?” Lukas asked as an afterthought, as they started to head back towards the clearing, both of them moving slower than usual, Harry still feeling shaken.

“Yeah, I did,” Harry said sheepishly. He was aware that it had been an invasion of Clay’s privacy to do it but he had been so desperate to know the truth, even though the truth hadn’t exactly been pleasant.

“Your Dad taught you how to do that?” Lukas asked, sounding impressed.

“Yeah, he was a master of it and Occlumency too, he wanted me to be too. Why do you ask?” Harry asked curiously. It was the norm for him to know such things, he’d never thought it odd to have been taught advanced magic.

“It’s rather impressive magic for a boy so young,” Lukas informed him. “There are some wizards that are a hundred years older than you that would struggle to master such complex magic.”

“Really….? Wow… thanks… I guess,” Harry muttered.

He remembered how long it had taken him to work it, the months of practice he had put in. His Dad had been so patient with him and together they had endured through the difficulties until Harry had mastered it; Severus had been so proud of him when he had managed it. Harry was aware that it was the only reason his nightmares stayed away. The horrific things that he saw every Halloween would have haunted him all year round if it wasn’t for the mind magic that his Dad had taken the time and effort to teach him. He would forever be grateful to his Dad for everything the man had taught him, the life that he had given to him.

“Oh, and Harry,” Lukas said, waiting until the other boy met his eyes, “I meant what I said about telling Fenrir about that potion. He needs to know.”

“I know he does,” Harry said very quietly, biting his lip nervously as he looked towards the clearing where they were heading. “I changed my mind you know,” he said suddenly before he even realised what it was he was saying.

“You changed your mind?” Lukas asked curiously.

“I tried to come back before the strays caught me, I tried to come home.” They had just reached the edge of the clearing as this admission fell from Harry’s lips. Lukas stopped and pulled Harry into a tight hug, which Harry returned with a sad smile.

“I’m glad you changed your mind, little one,” Lukas said fondly. He really did love Harry and he saw it as a very good sign that Harry had told him that he thought of the pack territory as home.

FGHP

Damon had barely just sat down next to Jenson, having finished strapping his arm into the sling, when he spotted Romy and Clay returning to the clearing. To say he was unhappy to see the state of his son would be an understatement. He had been very clear about how he felt about fighting.

“Clayton Danes!” he said furiously, getting to his feet and starting to storm towards the teen, who had frozen at the sight of his enraged father stalking towards them. It also turned Jenson’s attention to where the two pups had been approaching from; looking startled to see that the pup was covered in blood and seemingly had a broken nose.

Romy gave a small smile at seeing her Dad sitting up unaided, seemingly doing okay, and hurried over to him, quickly tucking herself into his side, under his good arm, “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered, glad to see he wasn’t too seriously hurt. She was still feeling shaken from Harry and Clay’s fight and needed the comfort that her adoptive father could give. Instinctively his arm tightened around his daughter and, sensing her distress, he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“I told you NOT to cause trouble, Clayton,” Damon said furiously, pulling Clayton’s hand from his broken nose to see what damage had been done; the worst of the bleeding seemed to have stopped. He led his son back to towards the fire where the others were all gathered; Callie was still tending to the Alpha and Micha unconscious under several blankets for the warmth.

“Is he going to be okay?” Clay asked his Dad, nodding his head in the direction of where Callie was now wrapping huge makeshift bandages around the Alpha’s large chest, which seemed to be rising and falling with steady breathes. Clay was no medical expert but he was sure that that was a good sign.

“He will be fine, now sit!” Damon commanded, getting Clay to sit next to Jenson. “Explain yourself, young man, and PLEASE tell me that you and Harry weren’t fighting… again.” Clay hung his head in shame, feeling bad that he had let his father down and hating the feeling that in evoked in him.

“It wasn’t entirely his fault,” Romy said softly from her father’s side, “Harry hit him first.”

“Wait, you actually hit Harry again?” Damon asked, noticing how Romy had phrased her explanation. He was about ready to start pulling his own hair out in frustration at the two teenage boys. “You should be glad that Fenrir is still out cold or he would skin you alive for hitting Harry!”

“I’m sorry,” Clay grumbled. He understood that Harry’s place in the pack, as Fenrir’s future mate, was an important and protected position, higher than even Damon’s as the Beta wolf but that didn’t make it seem any fairer. He was used to Harry just being his best friend and he felt that if his best friend was being a complete arse he should be allowed to thump him one. “He isn’t the Alphas mate yet,” he grumbled under his breath.

“But he will be,” Damon snapped. “I really don’t have time to deal with this right now,” he told his son, dreading seeing how much damage had been done to Harry too.

Callie had finally done all she could to help the Alpha and, having wrapped him up warm, they would have to let his own body’s healing ability take care of the rest. “Okay, let me look at you,” she said to Clay, tilting his head up to make sure it was just a broken nose. “Episkey,” she said with a wave of her wand.

Clay cried out as he felt his nose magically straighten itself out and heal almost instantaneously but when he reached up again the pain was gone. “Thanks,” he said, with a grateful smile at his Aunt, who patted him on the shoulder and quickly moved off to check on her mate and daughter.

“Okay, now you can explain,” Damon said, crouching down next to his healed son, handing him a cloth to clean up the blood that was covering his face. They were going to have to burn so many of their clothes today, they’d never be able to get all of the blood out, not even with the use of magic.

“Harry got pissed that I wouldn’t tell him what was going on, so he pinned me down and then did this thing where he went digging around in my head or something. I’m not sure how or what he did,” Clay told his father. “I managed to roll us over and pin him down but then he just freaked out, I swear, I have no idea why, and then he head butted me.”

“And that’s how your nose got broken?” Damon asked, and Clay nodded. “So why couldn’t you just walk away? Why hit him?”

“I tried to!” Clay insisted, “It was him who tried to hit me, all I did was try to stop him,” he said with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. Even with his Dad it felt like it was always about Harry lately.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Damon agreed, knowing that Clay was likely telling the truth and Harry’s legendary temper had almost certainly played at least a small part in their fight. “But take a look at your cousin a moment, look at Romy,” he said.

Clayton did as his father instructed, looking at where Romy was curled up, and obviously crying again, snuggled between Jenson and Callie. Guilt flared in him when he realised that it was he and Harry who had scared her to tears. He was still angry with Harry but he did feel bad for causing further problems for the pack when things were already so dire. “Sorry, Dad,” he mumbled.

“Do me a favour, go and wash some of the blood off of Micha, and find him some clean clothes for him,” Damon instructed, “I don’t want him waking up in that state.” He sounded fed up and completely drained; he had no idea how Fenrir did this Alpha lark all the time, there was no wonder he was so often a grump, it was a wonder he found the strength to be pleasant at all. “And try not to start any more fights,” he added as Clayton nodded and got up. “I need to go and find Harry and Lukas.”

Damon got to his feet and had taken only a few paces in the direction of the stream when he spotted Harry and Lukas embracing each other in a hug near the edge of the clearing. He crossed his arms over his chest and reminded himself not to lose his temper with the teen for starting another fight; Harry had been through alot and right now they all just needed to move on from this terrible night and try to heal.

The two separated and headed on over, both wearing wry smiles as they spotted Damon standing waiting for them a short way from the fire. “You have some explaining to do, Harry Prince,” Damon said sternly, as he tilted the teenager's chin to look at the purpling bruise that was spreading across Harry's jaw. Apparently Clayton had a good swing on him, Damon would have been proud, if the boy could stop using it against Harry. “But that can wait for later. Right now we all need to get some sleep; you go and lie down, little one. I am going to take care of Micha.”

Harry nodded. He spotted Jenson and Callie, who were cuddled up together with Romy between them; she had finally fallen asleep but her grip remained tight on her Dad’s shirt. Clay was clearly ignoring Harry while he tended to the lightly snoring Micha; Damon moved over to his son and helped Clay start changing the unconscious and blood soaked Micha into clean and blood free clothes. The Beta carefully cast spells to wash and dry Micha’s sandy blond hair, running his fingers through the freshly washed locks with tenderness.

“I’m going to make some tea and then sleep,” Lukas told Harry softly, keeping his voice low so not to disturb his slumbering pack mates, “would you like a cup?” he asked. Harry shook his head, his eyes were fixed on where the Alpha was lying, barely moving at all except for his shallow breaths that indicated he was at least still alive. “Okay well I suggest to get some sleep,” Lukas told him, waiting for Harry to nod his agreement before beginning to gather what was needed to make tea and coffee for those that wouldn’t be going back to sleep.

Clay cuddled up to his Dad and, the now clean, Micha; he was still determinedly not looking at Harry, still angry with him for playing a part in scaring Romy. Everyone else, however, who was able and willing had their eyes fixed on Harry, curious as to what he was going to do as he staggered tiredly to where the Alpha lay, close to the fire, hides and blankets covering him.

The young submissive wolf collapsed down beside Fenrir, relieved at the sight of the Alpha's large chest rising and falling steadily. Harry’s hand hovered gently on Fenrir's chest where he felt reassured by being able to feel rhythmic beating of Fenrir’s heart beneath his palm. Relief flooded him as the images he had forced from Clay’s mind were able to be pushed away now that he had seen for himself that the Alpha wolf of their pack was at least on the mend.

All eyes remained on the teen; with no one saying a word, as he tucked himself into the Alpha’s side, burying himself under the blankets that covered Fenrir. Harry’s words were lost as he cuddled up to the unconscious man, laying his head with great care upon the older man’s shoulder. The tears Harry shed went unnoticed by his fellow pack members as he whispered gently to his mate how sorry he was and started pleaded softly with the Alpha not to die.

FGHP

Russ was digging at the hard ground furiously with his bare hands, angry tears streaming down his cheeks, the frozen earth had almost torn his nails off at their beds he worked so tirelessly and caring very little for the pain it caused him. He was digging for his little brother, to give him a final resting place. The others would have just burnt him and been done with it but he wouldn’t let that happen. He wanted to say goodbye, he needed to lay him to rest properly.

Those fucking bastards had killed him and all for the sake of that little whore of a submissive that wasn’t even worth the air that he breathed. Russ was going to kill Jenson for this, he couldn’t believe that a wolf he had once counted as a pack brother and a friend had murdered his brother right in front of his eyes.

Though he felt a spark of pride knowing that he had already taken care of their Alpha, he was sure of it. Russ could still remember the dread of realisation as it had entered the Alpha’s eyes as he had sunk his blade into the fleshy belly of the larger man and torn through the skin with the aim of gutting the man. It wasn’t enough though,he wanted the whole damn pack dead for what they had done, not just to Roderic, but also for the injuries inflicted on the rest of their pack too.

He stopped for a moment, rubbing a hand over his sore and bruised throat as he looked over at where Dean was propped up with his back against a tree, with a look of fury on his face as he tore at an old, grumpy piece of fabric to bind his shoulder wound. It had been Dean who had regained consciousness first and, despite the deep stab wound to his shoulder and a mild concussion, he had crawled over to their Alpha and managed to cauterise the bleeding stump where Gideon's right hand used to be, effectively saving their Alpha's life. At least Dean hoped it would be enough to save Gideon’s life; the Alpha was still out cold and fighting a fever.

Jack had woken up not long after Dean, and had in turned roused Russ, while the Alpha had been taken care of by Dean. There had been no waking Roderic though no matter how hard they tried. Russ had known that this would be the case however, given he had had no choice but to watch in horror as his brother’s neck had been snapped by Jenson. It was something that he would never forget witnessing. Roderic had been the last remaining member of his biological family and now he was dead.

Now Russ would have to lay Roderic in the ground in a shamefully shallow grave. Rage was boiling furiously inside of him, his brother deserved a better burial than this. He longed to hunt down the traitorous bastard that had murdered him and make him pay. Jenson was supposed to be one of them. Once upon a time he had been. He had hunted with them, killed with them. They had known each other since they were pups. How could he have so easily killed Roderic without a second thought?

When he had seen Jenson come to the aid of the pathetic submissive wolf with a fierce looking Alpha wolf by his side, Russ had thought that it wouldn’t be much of a fight at all. Foolishly he had thought that Jenson would have helped them and been welcomed back into the pack like a hero, forgiven for his oversights. They had been childhood friends and now he was going to ensure that he ripped his still beating heart out of his chest but not before forcing Jenson to watch everyone he loved and cared about die slow and painful deaths first.

Dean however had ordered Russ to stay put for the time being rather than go and hunt down the other pack and avenge his brother on a whim with no forethought or planning. Russ would obey his acting Alpha, at least for the moment; he would use the time, which his pack brothers needed to recover, to give his true brother, by blood, the respect he deserved. With that intent, he turned his attentions back to digging the grave; Jack had offered to help in the task, but it was something he had wanted to take care of himself, though he appreciated the offer.

They all really needed Gideon to wake up soon, Dean knew that; they had never really been a pack with strong emotional bonds apart from the two biological brothers and, even as acting Alpha, Dean wouldn’t be able to hold them together for long. Years ago, before Gideon had challenged and killed his father for the position of Alpha male and before they had joined the ranks of Voldemort their pack had been stronger; they’d had female wolves and had been a family. That was no more, they had no females and no pups, they had either left or they had died and now it was just the five, no... just four of them left.

Keeping the pack together was not going to be made any easier by Russ’ desire for vengeance, nor the loss of Roderic to their numbers. Of course, Dean wanted to see the traitorous Jenson dead too; he wanted to break every bone in the red-head’s body and then make him watch while they slaughtered the little bitch of a girl, who apparently had somehow survived, before finally beating the life from him. Dean was no one to suffer a traitor.

Dean was going to enjoy beating the life from Jenson that was for sure. However not before he took some pleasure in the little bitch his traitorous pack brother had stolen away with. He much preferred women to men and even though the whore of a submissive, that had stumbled upon them quite by accident this evening, would have been fun to play with, it wasn’t what he ultimately wanted. Once they had taken the other pack down, he would be quite happy for Gideon to do whatever he wanted with the boy; would probably be entertaining to witness anyway but the little bitch he now knew resided with the other pack, she was the one he wanted.

He was also sure that the other pack would no doubt have other females amongst them too. He would, as beta wolf, be able to take his pick of them before the others got a chance. That would be when his fun would begin, starting with Jenson’s pretty little girl; he had seemed to care for the bitch so much that he had chosen her over his pack brothers and that would be why Dean would take great pleasure in claiming her before he killed her. It was these thoughts that kept him strong and in control as he wrapped the grubby bandage around his shoulder.

They needed to regain back their strength and heal the wounds that had been inflicted upon them before they could strike back and take their revenge. They also needed numbers. The pack they were facing was strong, stronger than them right now. That would soon change. Even if they had to bite and train more wolves to add to their pack then that would be what they would do. They would do whatever it took so that they would be able to make the other pack pay for hurting them.

Jack stood back and watched Russ intently, remaining very silent, in fear of a beating if he said anything out of turn. As the pack's omega he was largely there to act as a punching bag for the rest of them and they all certainly had a lot of frustrations to vent and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself so to bear the brunt of his anger. With Gideon unconscious, and running a fever, they were all on edge about whether or not he was going to pull through.

He observed from a safe distance as Dean struggled to his feet, his shoulder clearly paining him as he headed off deep into the woods. Jack knew he had gone hunting; he wouldn't trusted the omega wolf to do it as he was a hopeless hunter and Russ was too busy digging a grave for his brother, leaving Dean no choice but to do it himself despite his injury. If he didn’t hunt then they were going to starve.

The omega wolf had never been more afraid or uncertain about the future of their pack than as he watched Gideon’s motionless body lying in the dirt. The only sign that he was alive was the fact that his chest rose and fell as he drew breath. Their numbers may have dropped considerably since they had aligned themselves with Tom Riddle but the killing they were now permitted to do sure was fun. Jack loved the violence and the blood lust of his pack brothers. He had only newly joined the pack when he had been asked to find and kidnap a young bitch.

He hadn’t been allowed to touch her after he had fulfilled the task that had been asked of him, at least not until the others were done having their fun with her. He had taken the time to survey his new pack back then and so knew Jenson by sight, though not well. As the Alpha’s kid brother he was hard to miss. Seeing him again after all these years had certainly been a surprise.

He had also been happy to learn that the little bitch he’d snatched from her family all those years ago was still alive; it had made him hard to see them rape and torture the little girl, he would still masturbate as he remembered her screams. It would seem that he would finally be able to get his turn with her. He would be able to live out the fantasies that he had played out in his head as he had pleasured himself.

Little girls were his favourite. Since Jenson had stolen away with the little bitch, Jack had taken pleasure in four others that had been her age or slightly younger. He rarely went older but in this case he would make an exception because there was unfinished business between them. Oh he loved their screaming. He was aching to find another, it had been too long since he had felt the young, virginal flesh of a prepubescent girl beneath him, fighting in vain to stop him, something that only turned him on more. He would take his pleasure in her before feasting on her, sinking his teeth into her sweat soaked skin after fucking her within an inch of her life. Jack was really hoping that this pack had more pups, female pups that he could enjoy all to himself.

The others were not keen on eating raw flesh while in human form, not liking to indulge their inner wolves in that way but Jack relished in it. It didn’t matter to him what form he was in, he wanted to feel the warmth of still living skin as he tore chunks out of a still screaming little girl. To feel the beating heart of his prey as he started eating them was the greatest pleasure he had ever known and frequently it had made him orgasm as he enjoyed his meal.

Jack was torn from his delightfully arousing musings by a groan from his Alpha. It was a good sign, it meant that he was finally coming round. Shit, he thought to himself; Dean was still off hunting and it would be no use trying to put a stop to Russ’ digging until Roderic was fully laid to rest, that left him to be the one to bear the brunt of Gideon’s wrath when he realised how badly things had worked out for their pack.

“DEAN!!!” Gideon roared, his voice unsteady and gruff but there was no doubting the fury in it as he attempted to sit up and failing miserably, still weak from blood loss.

“My Alpha,” Jack said as he hurried over to his side, bowing deeply; it was mostly out of habit, given that Gideon seemed barely able to force his eyes open, let alone focus on anything. “He’s hunting, my Alpha.” Jack was sure to show all and every sign of submission to his Alpha as possible. He needed to make it clear that even with Gideon’s injuries, he had nothing to worry about in regards to his position as leader of their pack, at least not where Jack was concerned.

Gideon was nothing if not stubborn, and, with heaving effort, he rolled onto his side, using his remaining hand to push himself to his feet. For a moment, Jack was worried the large man was just going to pass out again; probably falling straight on top of him and crushing him to death, given his luck. But Gideon just staggered for a bit and found a nearby tree to lean against while the dizziness passed. Jack knew better than to aid him. He didn’t want to give the impression that he thought the Alpha to be weak.

“Tell me you have the head of the bastard who stole my hand, for me to shove a spike in,” the Alpha growled deeply, “or at least that little whore for me to put my cock in.”

“I’m… sorry… my Alpha, forgive us,” Jack stuttered, wringing his hands. “They killed Roderic.”

Gideon snarled dangerously at the stupid little Omega, he had failed, their pack had failed and he was furious. He reached out to wrap his fingers around Jack’s neck only to be faced with the reality of just a cauterised stump where his hand had once been. He roared in fury once more, the sound echoing off the trees around them. He swung the arm anyway, ignoring the pain that flared when it collided with the side of Jack’s face, sending the Omega wolf flying.

He turned to watch where Russ was determinedly digging and saw Roderic’s body lying under one of their large blankets. The reality that Roderic was now dead sinking in and his fury only growing at the loss of one of his brothers; the other pack would pay for this. But their own pack now grew weak, with such few numbers and with their injuries. He glared at his cauterised stump that throbbed painfully, hating that he had been distracted enough to allow it to happen. It felt odd, as if his hand was still there, he could even send a message from his brain to flex his fingers that were non-existent.

He knew that he wouldn’t last long as the pack Alpha, not with this injury, not unless he proved to them all that he was still as strong as he always had been. And he would prove it; that pathetic and twisted little Omega wolf would see how powerful his Alpha still was. With Russ digging his brothers grave, and Dean off hunting; Jack would have the honour of being the first to submit to his Alpha’s proof of his dominance, and he would be perfect for venting his frustrations on too.

Turning his gaze on to Jack, where the Omega wolf was picking himself up from the ground, Gideon pounced on him, adjusting himself so that he could become more accustomed to using his left hand. He curled his fingers into a tight fist and slammed it into the jaw of the smaller werewolf. The blow lacked the ferocity of his usual hits but then he had never used his left hand to punch someone before. The sounds coming from Jack still seemed to imply it hurt… a lot; but he still knew that if he was going to survive as a wolf, and remain at the head of the pack, he was going to have to strengthen the left side of his body.

Dean returned from the hunt with very little to show for his efforts, furious that all he had been able to catch was a single doe that looked as if it would have died soon anyway. It would have to suffice as his shoulder was bothering him a great deal, a reminder about what had happened and constantly fuelling his anger. Once Roderic was in the ground they would send Russ to hunt, he hadn’t been as badly injured as the rest of them and might fare better.

It improved Dean’s mood greatly when he saw the Alpha wolf awake and beating the living daylights out of Jack. Everyone’s mood always improved when using the little omega as a punching bag. It was a good sign that the Alpha was fit enough to be doing it or even that he was awake at all. Though he was still looking a little peaky from the blood loss, but a good meal should sort them all out.

Once they had fed they would be able to bury Roderic, laying their fellow pack brother to rest as Russ wanted. The hunt had done Dean some good, his anger channelled into catching a meal for the pack and providing for them, it was probably the only reason that he had been able to catch anything. He was also slightly more level headed now than he had been before hunting, when his mind had been whirling with plans of attack and vengeance. They would have their revenge but only once they were stronger. In the state they were currently in they wouldn’t be winning any fights that was for sure.

“My Alpha,” Dean said reverently, wanting no doubt that he wouldn’t be challenging Gideon for that position. He had no desire to be Alpha wolf, he was more than content in his position as Beta. It came with a fair few perks and with none of the hassle of responsibility that Gideon had.

The Alpha turned his head, the fingers of his left hand loosely circling Jack’s throat as the omega’s own finger’s held onto his wrist to ease the strain. Gideon snarled at the measly meal his Beta had returned with and wondered how severe Dean’s own injuries were; it was not at all the other werewolf’s usual standard.

“Russ will fetch more, when Roderic is buried,” Gideon commanded. He was sure that the Beta wolf had already drawn the same conclusion himself but, that Dean had allowed him to speak it himself, was a sign of his continued acceptance of Gideon’s place as Alpha. What unnerved Gideon was that even with Dean injured the beta wolf would win if the challenge was put forward for the top position in their pack. Losing his hand was a huge blow.

At least they would have something to report when they met with the Dark Lord in a few days’ time. They had found Greyback and he had something precious that they could use against him. That was certainly good news. Voldemort would be pleased with the progress they had made. The Dark Lord seemed keen to have Greyback on side in the war he was waging. The fact that he had a strong pack would only delight Voldemort more because it meant he would have more werewolves to do his bidding.

Gideon released Jack unceremoniously into a gasping heap on the floor, where the little wolf rubbed at his throat and tried to catch his breath. Feeding his pack and burying their lost brother were the priorities for the moment. They would move on from this, they would find new strength, and new members; it was what had to be done. That would all come in time however, for now they had to work on short term goals and that was keeping themselves alive.

“Russ!” the Alpha called out.

“Alpha,” Russ replied, but he didn’t halt in his digging for a second. The grave covered a large enough area to lay even the large body of Roderic in, but he wanted to give him more than a very shallow grave and was continuing to burrow further in the ground with a vicious determination.

“Stop and eat!” Gideon commanded, knowing the werewolf wouldn’t even think to do such a thing unless ordered to.

“When I am done, Alpha,” Russ insisted.

“NOW!” Gideon roared; he was certainly in no mood to be defied, no matter how much his subordinate was grieving. He would not allow any of them to think him weak, not for a single second, and they would obey the orders given and if they didn’t then he would show them their place beneath him.

Russ looked unhappy, but pulled himself out of the hole he had dug and joined his remaining pack mates around the pitiful little doe that Dean had caught. The Beta was already in the process of skinning the animal and so Russ took to the task of building a fire; Jack was hovering a short distance away, scavenging on the bits that Dean was discarding, he always preferred the raw bleeding pieces anyway.

Gideon sat close to where Russ was going to start their fire, waiting; it was a little disconcerting to see the large man looking so pale but a meal would probably do him some good. Russ would give the Alpha a chance to prove himself strong, but he was watching; he knew Dean wouldn’t challenge Gideon, but Russ wasn’t going to let Roderic’s death be their end; if they needed a new stronger Alpha then Russ would fight to make that happen, even if that meant taking down the maimed Gideon himself.

“The other Alpha,” Russ grunted just loud enough for Gideon to hear him, as he got the fire going and started adding more wood to it, “I slit him real good, he’ll be dead by now,” he said smugly, thinking of how the man’s guts had all but been spilling onto the ground beneath them. It had been a moment of fury when he had seen Jenson kill Roderic, but he had still done it and that prove him to be strong.

Gideon growled, not missing the hidden message of power than Russ’ words carried, the other werewolf was warning the Alpha to prove himself, and soon. But he was glad to hear that the other pack had not gotten off easily. “And the traitor?”

“He... got away,” Russ admitted.

“But we will get him later,” Dean promised, “They will be weakened with the loss of their Alpha.”

“You’re sure he’s dead?” Gideon demanded; as much as he wanted his revenge personally for the loss of his hand, if one of his pack mates had killed that son of a bitch then he would get over it, but he wanted to be certain; besides the death of Greyback might not be appreciated by Voldemort.

“Jenson carried him off,” Jack told him, suffering a little from the injuries his Alpha had just inflicted upon him. He had barely been conscious but he had been able to force his eyes open to see the traitor carry his own unconscious Alpha, presumably back to their territory.

“I sliced his stomach open,” Russ said, puffing his chest out proudly. The other Alpha was a big wolf and to have slain that beast of a man was a great achievement. “If he wasn’t dead when he left he will be soon,”

“We take nothing for granted,” Gideon snapped, still furious that his pack had allowed their attackers, and the submissive, to get away. “If you didn’t see him die then we assume he is alive and injured, I won’t be taken by surprise again!”

“Yes, my Alpha” Dean and Jack chorused obediently.

Gideon looked to Russ who had only nodded, not giving any sign of submitting to Gideon. “You want to challenge me, boy?” the Alpha suddenly roared. He cared very little for Roderic lying dead only a few feet from them or the fact that Russ was no doubt grieving for the loss of his biological brother. If his position was going to be openly challenged then he was going to answer that and prove himself.

“I want our pack to have a strong Alpha,” Russ growled. “Prove yourself and I won’t have to challenge anyone,” Russ snarled, he was really in no mood to fight, though if it came to it he was confident; he wasn’t the one who had just had his hand chopped off.

Dean looked between the two knowing that if Russ beat Gideon in such a challenge then he would step up and put Russ in his place. Dean had ample amounts of respect for his current Alpha but he wouldn’t fall in line and follow orders from Russ, his wolf wouldn’t allow it.

Gideon roared and lunged at Russ, easily pinning him to the floor, “Remember your place, boy, or else you will save us the hunt and we will just feast on you and what is left of your brother,” he warned.

“Yes, my Alpha,” Russ said, turning his head to the side and submitting, even though his guts twisted and turned at the idea of them feeding on Roderic. He would hold his tongue to prevent that from happening, if for no other reason.

“Good choice,” Gideon told him with a sneer, “piss me off and I might just end up accidentally killing Jack, and that would leave you as the Omega,” he said with a laugh as he released Russ and allowed the other wolf to get back to his feet. Jack had let out a protesting cry, which went ignored by the others, but Dean seemed just as amused as the Alpha at this threat. No one wanted to be the omega in a pack.

Russ was done building the fire, and was going to say or do something he would regret if he didn’t get some space, so he left Dean to cook the doe and went back to Roderic’s mostly dug out grave. He sat down next to where his brother’s body lay under a blanket; it had always been the two of them against the world and the future looked a lot bleaker now than it had done in many years.

He had wanted for them to bury Roderic as a pack, but now he didn’t want those other bastards to be part of the last moment between siblings; he would lay him in the ground and then head out to hunt, hopefully the run would help him forget all this shit for a bit. With great care he picked Roderic’s body up, blanket and all, cherishing the last time they would be together before he climbed down into the dirt hole.

Russ felt tears trailing down his cheeks and he turned away from the others who didn’t come forward or offer to help him. He didn’t want them to see his weakness because that was all his tears were, weakness. He would be strong, he would avenge his little brother. Placing Roderic into the ground, Russ pulled back the blanket and placed a tender kiss upon his forehead, before covering him back up, knowing that this was the last time that they would be together. He didn’t believe in reincarnation or heaven, if any such existence was based in truth then they’d be going to hell for what they had done in life.

He climbed out and threw down the first handful of dirt. Thumping his fist on the ground in anger, at the werewolf who had slain Roderic and at his own failure to protect him. He started to shove all the mud he had dug out, back into place; covering the body of his little brother in this way was painful and so final. Roderic would never take another breath, they wouldn’t laugh together, or fight, or hunt. Their mother would be so ashamed to know that he had been unable to protect his baby brother. At least she would have been if she’d been alive.

“You done?” Gideon grunted making no acknowledgment that Russ had just buried a loved one or that he might be grieving for the loss. After Russ had just openly challenged him the Alpha didn’t much care for sentiment. He was going to literally kick Russ to heel if he didn’t start to show the proper respect.

“Almost…, my Alpha,” Russ returned through gritted teeth. If he had felt stronger, then he would have challenged Gideon to full out fight for the top most position and probably won too.

This pack was a joke, ever since they had joined forces with Voldemort they were less of a pack and more of a violent, blood thirsty gang. Their bitches had fled or been killed soon after Jenson had run off. At first the killing had been fun but now the pleasure was starting to wear thin. Now that Roderic was gone he had no one to enjoy it with.

He patted down the earth, making sure it was patted down tight; he wouldn’t have animals digging his brother back up, savaging for food. He took a long, deep steeling breath, reigning in his emotions and his tears before turning to face Gideon, “I’ll go hunt, my Alpha,” he said, keeping his head bowed. He hoped the Alpha would just see it as respectful and a sign of submission to him, but in truth he knew his face showed far too much raw emotion to display it to the heartless bastard of a man; that would be signing his own death warrant.

“Be quick about it,” Gideon snapped. “This measly bit of meat won’t feed all of us,” he watched Russ carefully. The Alpha knew he would have to keep a close eye on this subordinate because he had a feeling that he wasn’t done pushing the limits just yet.

Russ grunted in agreement and dashed off into the woods, glad for the reprieve. He needed to get some distance from the rest of the pack which were lacking in sympathy or respect for the fallen Roderic. It made Russ hate them all. The early morning air brushed away the tears from his face as he ran and soon his grieve ridden mind was lost to the focus of the hunt. It was a distraction that he needed, allowing allthe worries and horrors of the night to be buried, just like Roderic.

FGHP

Despite his plans to sleep, along with the rest of the pack, Lukas hadn’t been able to get his mind to relax enough to allow it. He sat by the fire, nursing a third cup of Imperial Ceylon tea instead; the brew did a wonderful job of calming his frayed nerves and clearing his mind. It had helped a little that he wasn’t the only one of the pack who had been unable to find solace in sleep, though Lukas suspected that Damon’s restlessness had more to do with wanting to protect the rest of them while Fenrir was out for the count.

The Beta wolf wouldn’t have been able to defend them anyway, not with the way he was lounging against a small pile of blankets with his son curled up on his left side and Micha tucked into his right, both of the younger wolves snuggling into him and fast asleep. He held them close to him protectively, his gaze occasionally sweeping over Jenson and Callie who were curled around Romy and then to Fenrir who had Harry snuggled close to him.

It was so tranquil in the clearing now, compared to the horrors that had been unfolding so very recently but, while they were still cautious with their optimism, it was looking as though they might just all survive this ordeal. Of course it would be a while until Fenrir was back on his feet but he was remaining hopeful that it would happen. Damon had been keeping a close eye on his best friend and Alpha, ensuring that the man was still breathing.

“You should sleep,” Damon suggested in a soft voice, so as not to wake the others. Lukas turned to him with a faint smile gracing his lips at the thought that he might actually be able to get some rest.

“Don’t think I could,” Lukas told him, glancing at where Fenrir and Harry were laying peacefully together, the picture of innocence, almost.

The young pup had fallen asleep with his head resting upon the Alpha’s shoulder, so as not to disturb the injuries or their bindings. It hadn’t escaped either Damon or Lukas’ notice that Harry had obviously been crying, their sensitive wolf ears even picking up the pleading for him not to die and the apologies before the pup had given in to sleep.

“No, neither could I,” Damon said. His arse had gone numb sitting on the ground with the weight of both Clay and Micha on him but he wouldn’t have changed his position for anything. He would have suffered through much worse to hold Clayton and Micha close to him, simply glad that they were both still alive and not wanting to let them go.

He knew he should never have let Micha run off after the Alpha, every instinct in his body had been telling him to stop the younger wolf and yet stupidly he hadn’t done a thing to stop him. Micha had never been cut out for battle; it wasn't that he was weak, but it just wasn't in his nature, he wasn’t a dominant fighter, he was like Harry, a submissive. His heart was too big, he didn’t have it in him to kill without mercy.

Things could have been so much worse for them. Even with the injuries they had, they’d been lucky to all survive. The way it stood Fenrir was still touch and go, his wounds had been so severe. If he caught an infection now then it was doubtful he’d be able to fight it off and with Harry wrapped around him the way he was it would no doubt be hard on the young pup to lose the Alpha of their pack. Clearly the two of them had a bond, despite all the arguments and attempts to run away.

Damon knew Harry well, it had taken the pup a while to adjust to his new way of life. With the loss of his father and his life turned upside down it wasn’t surprising that he had needed some time. He had grown up believing that his wolf was something that had to be tamed at any cost. As a result he had been hurting himself irreversibly only to find that it had never been necessary. It was wonderful to see that despite everything Harry was finally beginning to understand his role within the pack, as the mate of the Alpha.

“You know Harry used Legilimency on Clayton earlier, from what I gather it was what started the fight between them,” Lukas said conversationally to the acting Alpha. “Were you aware that he could do that, it isn’t exactly a common ability to have?”

“I wasn’t aware of it, no, but it doesn’t surprise me at all," Damon said. They both kept their voices low, not wanting to risk waking the others. "Harry is also the only werewolf I’ve ever known to be able to transform into an animagus on command. He can talk to snakes too, Clayton saw him do it once.”

Lukas looked at Damon in amazement, casting an impressed look over to where Harry lay sleeping. He had known that the boy was special but he had never realised just how unique he was. “I am betting everything I have that that headmaster regrets asking for Harry to go to Hogwarts before the year is out,” Lukas said with an amused smile.

He could only imagine the high-jinks that all the pups would be involved in when left unsupervised away from the pack. No teacher would ever have authority over them, at least not so much as their Alpha and other pack members would have. It would no doubt be more difficult for Harry, who as second only to Fenrir, he would have to learn that that wasn’t the case in the wizarding world.

Damon snorted, as he tried to smother his laugh, “And that is even before you add Clayton into the mix.” He thought of his son and remembered all the trouble the two of them had caused while living in Ingleton. That had been before all this trouble had started. Even though he had been on the verge of pulling his hair out at the antics they got up to he would give anything to have that fun loving, prank-pulling and mischievous pair back.

“The two of them would be unstoppable if they could convince Romy to join in with them, add her intelligence to their trouble making abilities and other… unique skills and that school isn’t going to know what hit them come January. I almost wish I could go just to watch it all unfold.” Lukas mused, remembering fondly, Micha’s not so glamorous make over and the resulting incident where Fenrir’s favourite, and only, jacket had been turned an alarming shade of pink.

“And give them a chance to recruit you to join in too?” Damon asked with a raised eyebrow, “You would have to be crazy to want to be at that school this year.”

“I think we should just be glad that Micha isn’t going with them, can you imagine?" Lukas asked, with something close to horror in his eyes, "There wouldn’t be a school left!”

“That’s possible even without Micha going with them," Damon assured him, though he was definitely a little amused by Lukas' concern. "Did I ever tell you about the time Harry and Clayton blew apart a wall in Harry’s bedroom?”

“No, you didn’t. How about I make us both a fresh cup of tea and you tell me all about it,” Lukas suggested.

Damon nodded and launched into the story with a smile on his face, remembering the occasion fondly. In the light of the horror and the unease that had settled around them it felt nice to be discussing something light hearted. Lukas had to stifle his laughter as Damon recounted the incident to him, neither of them wanting to wake the others. It was a good thing that the Beta wolf had plenty of stories to tell. By lunchtime he was recounting them to most of the pack, now with added input from Clay of course.

Only Harry and Fenrir remained sleeping.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always you can find myself and my co-writer BickyMonster who writes this with me on facebook where we will happily chat to you and answer any questions you might have.
We are about halfway through writing chapter twenty-two of this story so we have a fair few chapters that just need a final read through. The more reviews and comments we get the more likely we are to update Wednesdays and Saturdays so keep them coming. We love knowing what you think, even if you do just have a question about something that confuses you in the story. Also you might want to check out the Fluffy Bits (our little side stories for the Fragmented Soul world). Available only on AO3 and FF.net
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