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
- 12
- 13
- 14
Chapter Thirteen – Vigil
Voldemort surveyed the pathetic Alpha wolf, who was knelt before him, with disgust and revulsion. The day before they had apparently been attacked by Fenrir Greyback, the very werewolf they were supposed to be recruiting for him, not fighting and almost killing. It displeased him greatly to hear of this. He had thought that Gideon and his unkempt group of mangy dogs would have been more than up to the task of bringing to heel one lone wolf. It had been a major oversight that Greyback had formed a pack; it certainly wasn’t something that he, himself had been expecting.
“We lost one of our pack brothers in the attack, my Lord,” Gideon explained. “Greyback also cut off my hand!” he told him, waving the butchered stump for the Dark Lord to see, though it was of very little concern to Voldemort, “and all for some whore of a submissive he’s keeping as a personal fuck toy!”
“A submissive?” Tom asked, musing over this with interest, Gideon nodded in confirmation. Voldemort considered this carefully as he watched the Alpha wolf curiously. “So he has people he cares for,” Tom said thoughtfully, a small smirk sneaking onto his lips. “That will make him easier to control,” he said mostly to himself. “Bring me the submissive, as well as Greyback!” he ordered.
“My Lord…” Gideon said, trying to keep the grimace from his face at having to capture the boy all over again, only to just hand him over. He had rather hoped to be able to capture him to have his way with him. He had been thinking about all the deliciously wonderful things that he could do to the boy.
“If he wants to keep his little whore, as you so delightfully put it,” Tom said with a manic smile, “then we will make him work for it. Do what you will with the others … I care for their fates, very little. I am sure you will find some way to amuse yourselves with them ,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand; it was unlikely that any of them would be worth the hassle of ensuring their loyalty.
“My lord…” Gideon said again, gritting his teeth. He knew that the Dark Lord had promised to improve the position of werewolves in the world, but it still grated on his nerves, on his instincts, that he was being made to bend to the will of another, no matter how powerful they were. “I was hoping that…”
“Hoping what?” Tom snapped, all hint of good humour or patience evaporating in an instant when the pathetic werewolf didn’t take the hint to leave.
“I want the submissive,” Gideon said somewhat forcefully, certainly more so than he knew he should have done. “After what was done to me, I fucking deserve him!”
Riddle let out a harsh barking laugh, “Come here, wolf!” he demanded. “Give me your hand!” Gideon offered the dark lord his left hand, his entire body tense. “The other one!” Tom snapped impatiently as the Alpha wolf did as he was told, holding out right arm that was now missing its hand.
Wrapping his long fingers around the werewolf’s wrist, he waved his wand and, with a muttered incantation, a silver hand appeared to grow from Gideon’s stump. He was so shocked and so terrified of it being actual silver that he almost screamed; trying, with obviously futility, to get away from his own newly formed metallic hand and the Dark Lord’s grip. Voldemort laughed, loud, and with genuine amusement, at the werewolf’s reaction.
“My Lord… the silver…” Gideon stuttered, waiting for the pain to hit him and wondering, with confusion, why it hadn’t already.
“I am aware, dog!” Tom sneered, still clutching at the wrist of the wolf in a harsh grip. “It is real silver, of course, but it won’t affect you…so long as you behave.”
Gideon looked at Voldemort with wide, fearful eyes as the realisation hit him. This silver hand was effectively a collar and leash, something that his inner wolf snarled at, he would have no choice but obey the Dark Lords commands now. That amount of silver being permanently attached to his body would kill him in a matter of hours, slowly and painfully.
“You will bring the submissive to me,” the Dark Lord commanded again, knowing that the Alpha would heed his order without question this time. “Unharmed,” he added with a stern gaze that made it clear that the alternative was not worth considering. He dropped the wrist from his grip and turned to walk back to his chair. “Greyback too,” he instructed as though this part should have been obvious, “I imagine if you take hold of the little whore with your new hand, Greyback will be quite… cooperative and you may find that he even comes willingly.”
“”Yes, my Lord,” Gideon said through gritted teeth.
“Leave, before I lose my patience with you,” Tom said dismissively, bored with the whimpering pathetic Alpha werewolf in his presence. He was itching to cause some damage and he vaguely wondered where Bellatrix was, she was such a delightful stress relief.
“But, my Lord...,” Gideon said, knowing that he was pushing his luck now. However in his mind they weren’t done, he still had things he needed to discuss because he couldn’t very well achieve what the Dark Lord wanted when he was so lacking in numbers.
“What now?” the Dark Lord said, fury and irritation ringing in his voice as the poor excuse of a werewolf ignored the order to leave for a second time.
“Our pack..., we… our numbers dwindle, there are only four of us remaining,” Gideon said, his head bowed, not wanting to find out what it would feel like, should the Dark Lord become angry enough to remove whatever was holding back the pain of the silver. “Greyback’s pack is strong. We will need others if we are to capture him and his whore.”
"Fortunately for you, I anticipated your weakness and failure and have already thought of that," Tom said with a sickening smile on his handsome face. "I have been recruiting."
Gideon ignored the insult and looked at his lord hopefully; with more werewolves they might stand a chance of taking down Greyback’s pack and getting revenge on Jenson, who had so stupidly betrayed them. Gideon thought that his little brother would have had more brains than that.
The Dark Lord said nothing further but headed for the door; assuming he was supposed to follow, Gideon got to his feet and hurried after him. Voldemort strode along regally, his robes billowing behind him.They passed several Death Eaters in the hallway, all of whom bowed to their master and then turned to sneer in disgust at the werewolf following after him.
Gideon would have loved to throttle every single one of them, show them who was superior, especially the blond wizard who looked so far up his own arse that Gideon would have loved to have literally shoved his neatly kept blond head up there. He was no mutt to be kicked and ordered around by the likes of them, he was an Alpha, he answered to no one… except the Dark Lord, and that alone disgusted him enough.
They turned a corner and Voldemort barged his way through a door into what looked to be someone’s private quarters. Gideon supposed private was word that didn’t quite apply to anything when you were one of the Dark Lord’s servants.
“Axlar!” Tom said loudly, announcing their presence in the room.
Gideon followed him inside, jumping slightly when the door slammed shut behind him, seemingly of its own accord. He stepped forward to see past the Dark Lord to whoever this Axlar was. The man Gideon saw would have been an imposing sight, if he hadn’t been sat in a large comfy armchair with what looked to be knitting needles in his hands. He appeared to be knitting a…. a light blue cardigan? Gideon couldn’t be sure, but whatever it was it was a confusing sight to behold.
He was large and broad shouldered, with dark brown hair and dull, cold blue eyes. The man seemed vaguely familiar to Gideon but he couldn’t place where it was he had seen him before. The name rang a bell with him too but why escaped him. His scent alone told the Alpha that this man was a werewolf but Gideon had never known a werewolf to have the patience or the inclination to knit. It wasn’t a hobby that was associated with the species in general.
“This is a joke right?” Gideon asked, turning his head to stare at Voldemort incredulously. He couldn’t believe that this werewolf would be able to help against Fenrir in anyway, not unless the knitting needles doubled as a weapon.
“Axlar, this is Gideon, the Alpha I told you about,” Tom said conversationally, as though introducing two dear friends who he thought would get along splendidly. To say the Alpha was sceptical would be an understatement.
“Ooh,” Axlar purred happily, looking up with interest as he placed his knitting down with great care on the nearby table. “An Alpha…” Axlar got to his feet and prowled across the room, his head cocked slightly to one side as though it would help him figure out more about the other werewolf.
Axlar started to circle around them, but as he reached Gideon he cocked his head to the other side and inhaled deeply. “We are going to have fun… I can go have fun with the Alpha, right?” he asked Tom, who chuckled in amusement.
Gideon was somewhat stunned, and confused; he had met some crazy werewolves in his time, hell he might even count himself amongst them, but this was a whole new level of nuts; it was impressive. Axlar moved around in front of the Alpha and opened his mouth; Gideon thought it was supposed to be a smile, but there was no way he could call it that.
“I smell silver,” Axlar told him, looking the Alpha up and down and spotting the newly formed hand with psychotic glee.
Gideon almost jumped back in alarm when Axlar reached out and took the silver hand in his own, but he could only watch in fascination as the obviously insane werewolf just closed his eyes as his lips morphed into a sickly grin of delight, his skin almost sizzling as it came into contact with the toxic metal. The scent of burning flesh soon reached their nostrils but he never once flinched or showed any sign of discomfort. And soon the Alpha was looking at the Dark Lord with an expression of malicious joy on his face, as though he had been given a wondrous gift, but hadn’t even realised he had wanted it. “He’s perfect,” he said.
“Isn’t he?” Tom agreed with the closest thing to affection Gideon had ever seen him wear. “He sought out a werewolf, wanted to be bitten. Such a lust for blood,the things the man did before he was bitten were truly wondrous to behold.” The way Voldemort spoke about this man was in awe and admiration. Whatever Axlar had done must have been truly horrendous. The werewolf in question just stood before them with his chest puffed out in pride as his watched his injured hand heal itself before their eyes.
“He’ll make a fine addition to the pack, my Lord,” Gideon said with a manic grin on his face. He couldn’t wait to take Axlar back to meet the others, he’d make them stronger that was for sure.
“There will be others to join you soon enough,” Tom said sounding close to being bored, never a good sign. “Perhaps it would be prudent to send one of the weaker members into Greyback’s pack to gather information. It would be unfortunate for you to be beaten by him again. You should know, Gideon, that I do not like failure; if you were to fail me again you would not live to do so a third time.”
“Yes, My lord,” Gideon said with a stiff bow to Voldemort who sneered at the two wolves in front of him. “Come Axlar, we must head back to the pack.”
“Yes, my Alpha,” Axlar said eagerly, following behind Gideon, but not before taking his knitting, shrinking it down and putting it in his pocket.
“Can I ask, what is with the knitting?” Gideon asked as they walked away, heading for the apparition point outside of Malfoy Manor.
“My grandmother taught me,” Axlar said. “She raised me, now I knit things for her.”
“Oh, how … lovely,” Gideon said, not understand how the werewolf could show such sentimentality and yet be the way he was.
“She did so appreciate the cardigans,” Axlar told him, and he sounded as though he was reminiscing over a fond memory.
“Did?” Gideon asked, confused about why Axlar would continue to make cardigans now, if his beloved Grandmother was dead and gone.
“Before I killed her.”
Okay, that was something Gideon hadn’t seen coming; although, in retrospect he supposed he probably should have. “You killed her?” he asked, admittedly curious about this bizarre man, who he just couldn’t make heads or tails of.
“Oh yes, she was my first,” Axlar told him with obvious pride.
“Your first…?” Gideon didn’t quite know what to say to that and he found himself reluctantly impressed, that was definitely the kind of heartless killer who would give the pack the strength they needed; it also reminded him never to trust the new pack member, though. “How many have you killed?”
“I lost count after twenty seven. She was a screamer,” Axlar said with a fond smile on his face, “Almost had to cut her eyelids off.”
“Excuse me?” Gideon was startled and baffled by that statement. He actually stopped walking and blinked in Axlar‘s direction a couple of times before he felt ready to start walking again.
“She wouldn’t hold still for me to put the glue on,” Axlar explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, oblivious to Gideon’s surprise and confusion.
“Glue?”
“Yes, Alpha,” Axlar confirmed. “I like them to look at me when I kill them. There is no greater pleasure than to watch the life fade from a woman’s eyes, it’s even better if you’re still inside her too, fucking her as you plunge a knife in her belly.”
Gideon looked at Axlar with renewed interest, he was going to have a lot of fun with this new recruit, he could tell that already. “I think you’ll fit in with us just fine, Axlar.”
“Thank you, my Alpha.”
FGHP
It had been less than a day; a long and agonising day, granted, but still only twelve hours had passed, and Fenrir was still unconscious. After the initial panic the entire pack had calmed considerably; most of them had managed to get a decent amount of sleep and now almost everyone was up and about. They had prepared and eaten a meal, and Lukas had kept himself busy by ensuring that no-one went for more than half an hour without a fresh cup of tea. The mood, however, was dour and felt like something that might be found in a graveyard.
Unlike his pack brothers and sisters, Harry hadn’t moved, stubbornly refusing to be moved from the Alpha’s side; whether he was sleeping or simply laying there wide awake, he wouldn’t shift an inch. He wouldn’t eat or drink anything, and the pack was more than a little concerned as none of them could remember the last time the teen had accepted food; they were fairly sure he hadn’t had anything the day before either. But no amount of coaxing or convincing seemed to initiate anything other than a low growl of warning from the young pup. He didn’t want anyone near his mate.
Damon could understand Harry’s reluctance to leave the Alpha; the two of them seemed to have bonded over the incident with the strays, which was the only silver lining, so to speak, the Beta wolf could see. Damon suspected that a lot of it was guilt on Harry’s part, and rightfully so, he thought in his more bitter moments, but Harry was still just fifteen, and scared fifteen years old boys could be relied on to do stupid things. He knew he would have to talk to him soon; Harry would hate him for it, he was sure but they needed to deal with Harry’s issues before it really did get someone killed.
For the moment, however, is primary concern was that the young pup would grow weak if he continued to refused to take sustenance of any kind; they at least needed him to drink something. Fenrir wouldn’t be in anyway happy to find Harry starving and weak when he awoke; Damon was determined to say when and not if. He would stay optimistic; they were all trying to stay optimistic.
Once awake, Clayton had begun to profusely apologise to Romy who had barely spoken a word since witnessing Harry and Clay’s fight. He had literally got down on his knees, following her around the clearing, grovelling, until she had forcefully dragged him back to his feet, hugged him and told him to stop being so ridiculous. Jenson had watched the exchange with a keen eye, he didn’t like the teenage boy anywhere near his daughter, particularly not since Clay and Harry had reduced her to hysterical tears in the early hours of the morning.
Callie had tried to get Jenson to ease up on their daughter a little, but, with the strays being the ones who had hurt her all those years ago, he was feeling extra protective of her. Every time he looked at her he could still see the little blood covered girl he had stumbled into the territory with all those year ago and it made him want to hide her away from the world, dreading the day it might try to hurt her again; he knew his heart wouldn’t be able to handle that. He just loved her so much. He felt as if he needed to explain this to the rest of them, they needed to know exactly what they were dealing with when it came to these strays.
Micha was reeling with his own mixed up emotions having found it rather odd to wake up to find Damon’s protective arm around him; though it had felt it odd he had also discovered that he had actually rather liked it. He also appreciated the fact that he had been cleaned of blood and was in a fresh set of clothes too. He hadn’t expected any of it; it wasn’t something that would have been done in his old pack, they just hadn’t taken care of each other in that way. He was beginning to learn that every pack was different and it all depended on the members of the pack and the Alpha in charge.
Since waking up snuggled up to the Beta wolf, Micha had stuck close by him, seeking comfort in his warmth and presence, something that Damon had been more than happy to oblige the younger wolf with. Micha had been through a lot the previous night and it wasn’t surprising that he was feeling a little delicate and vulnerable. Damon certainly didn’t mind having him as a little shadow that just wanted to be protected for a little while.
“Damon,” Callie said, approaching her brother cautiously. The Beta wolf was back in front of the fire, his eyes on Harry and Fenrir with Micha tucked under one arm.
“Yeah,” he asked, turning to look at his sister, having been shaken out of his thoughts.
“I need to check on the Alpha, make sure his wounds are healing and are clear of infection. I can’t do that with Harry there, and he shouldn’t see the damage…”
Damon sighed, realising that she was right but dreading it. Harry wasn’t going to be moved easily. “Alright, I guess now is as good a time as any,” the Beta Wolf said, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to get up, which was such a shame, he had been so comfortable in front of the fire with Micha.
“I’ll go first,” she said gently, with a hand on Damon's shoulder to stop him just rushing in head first. “He won’t see me as a threat, just be ready to back me up if I need it,” she suggested.
Damon nodded his understanding and signalled over for Jenson to join them, thinking that he might need a little help. The two fully grown men stood back and allowed Callie to approach the Alpha and his mate; both Damon and Jenson were prepared to step in at a moment’s notice if need be. Both of them were aware of just how volatile Harry’s temper could be.
Clayton, Romy, Micha and Lukas were all looking a little apprehensive when they realised what was about to happen. Everyone knew that it had to be done, it was unavoidable, Fenrir had to be checked over to ensure that he was healing and wasn’t infected, but Harry wasn’t willingly going to be moved anytime soon either. Plus no one could recall when he had last eaten or drunk anything and this way they could hopefully deal with both issues simultaneously, however that didn’t mean it was going to be easy or pain free.
“Little one,” Callie said, keeping her voice low and soft, just in case the pup was sleeping. He wasn’t, of course, something that she discovered when glaring green eyes turned on her for daring to come near them; a small growl escaping Harry’s throat as he snuggled against the Alpha’s side, little hands wrapping around Fenrir’s large arm. “I have to look over the Alpha,” she told him gently. “I need to make sure he’s okay, can you let me do that?” She really wanted to do this as easily as possible with the minimum amount of fuss, remaining calm was the key to that.
Mutely, Harry nodded his permission but he remained lying beside Fenrir, watching her carefully. Callie moved closer, kneeling on the opposite side of the Alpha to the one that Harry was lying on and proceeding to unwrap the makeshift bandages. Callie however was hesitant when it came to removing them, biting at her bottom lip as she watched Harry cautiously, their eyes fixed on each other’s warily.
“Little one, you shouldn’t see this,” She said gently. “Why don’t you-”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Harry snapped, his wide eyes quickly narrowing back to a glare.
“You have to eat, Harry,” she said a little more firmly this time. “You haven’t eaten in a couple of days. Even if you don’t want to eat, you need water at the very least.”
“No,” Harry said with a snarl.
“Little one, please, this isn’t something you should see,” Callie said trying to be reasonable, however she could see now that reasonable wasn’t going to work with Harry this evening. It didn’t matter how nice she was, or how much she tip-toed around him, the pup wasn’t going to be co-operative. If they were going to get him fed and watered then they were going to have to force him. Judging by Harry’s past reactions this wasn’t going to be a simple process.
“Stop talking and just fix him, then leave us alone.”
This was the last thing Harry said before he felt large, strong arms encircling round his waist and trying to pull him away from Fenrir. He hadn’t been expecting them and his mind, which had been with the strays and their attack on him only moments before, jumped to all the wrong conclusions. In that moment when he was grabbed roughly around the waist he thought that the strays had come for him, that they were going to finish what they started.
Determination filled Harry. He wouldn’t be caught by them, he wouldn’t be defenceless, not again, he had to fight them. He needed to get back to his mate no matter what the cost. He opened his mouth and just started screaming, lashing out blindly at anything he could, feeling his nails connecting with skin and digging in. He threw his body in every direction he was able in an attempt to get free, not once stopping his screaming. No one was going to take him away from Fenrir.
Damon knew that it had been a mistake to grab Harry the moment that he had started screaming. In that instant Jenson had been by his side to help but even two fully grown werewolves didn’t seem to be enough to hold one fifteen year old pup still, as he thrashed around wildly trying to get free from his captors. It was painfully clear that he wouldn’t be fed food or water in the hysterical state he was in.
Clayton cowered by the fire, Romy in his arms physically shaking, with her hands covering her ears against the soul destroying noise that filled their clearing, echoing from Harry's lungs. Lukas too stood well away, protecting the other two pups along with Micha as they watched the battle. No one had expected such a reaction but it was evident that whatever had happened to Harry while he had been with the strays had severely traumatised him.
They hadn’t really thought about what must have happened in the woodlands outside their territory and no one had asked; they hadn’t been given the opportunity to ask. All Lukas knew was that before Harry had been caught, the pup had changed his mind and tried to come home, a fact that he had relayed to Damon, who had taken it on board. However there wasn’t much that he could do with the information. Now though it was clear that they probably should have asked the questions, it was obvious that they needed to know just what had happened to Harry to scare him so.
Jenson cried out in agony as he got a little too close to the flailing young pup and Harry sunk his teeth into exposed flesh of the older werewolf’s arm. An injury that joined countless scratches and steadily forming bruises as Harry, in his panic, continued to kick and hit the two large men that held him. The two of them struggled valiantly but there seemed to be nothing that either of them could do to calm him.
“Let him go,” Callie said weakly having checked the Alpha over as quickly as possible and replaced the bandages; now making a point to stand well back from all of them. “I’m finished,” she told them.
Reluctantly Jenson and Damon released the teenager who stopped his screaming almost instantly, dropping to the floor and scuttling back over to Fenrir on his hands and knees; the entire pack could hear him heaving out loud, dry sobs of anguish as he snuggled into the Alpha once again. They all distinctly heard Harry start his whispered apologies and pleading for him not to die once again as they all looked on sadly.
Callie assured them that Fenrir was recovering as well as could be expected, all things considered, and then immediately moved on to check over Jenson, who was bleeding from where he had been bitten. Damon had fared a little better, with only scratches and bruises to show from the tussle with Harry but that didn’t stop Micha from rushing over to check him for more serious injuries as well.
“He reacted like that with me yesterday,” Clay said with concerned glances at where his best friend was curled up with the Alpha. He kept his arms protectively around Romy who was trembling as she cuddled into him. “What happened to him?” he asked.
“Knowing Gideon and the others it wasn’t pleasant,” Jenson said through gritted teeth as Callie used the last of the antibacterial medical wipes to clean the deep punctures on his forearm from Harry’s teeth.
“You know them?” Damon asked in surprise as he allowed Micha to fuss over him. None of them had exactly spoken at length about the matter, in fact the incident had barely been discussed further than what had happened to Fenrir. Now it seemed was the time to sit down and talk about it, not having done so was obviously causing problems.
“I did, a long time ago,” Jenson said confirmed, casting a wary glance over towards his daughter who had been quite clearly terrified by Harry’s reaction.
“I think you need to explain,” Damon said firmly and Jenson nodded his agreement. It was time.
With one look from her mate, Callie moved over and took Romy from Clay, settling down beside the fire with her daughter in her arms, Jenson coming over and taking a seat by her side. Damon assured Micha that he was fine, and led him over to a spot where they could sit; he made sure that he had a direct line of sight to the still sobbing Harry and the unconscious Alpha, while still being able to make eye contact with Jenson. Clay came over to his Dad, taking up residence on the other side of him from Micha. Lukas took a seat between the two groups, not really belonging to either.
“The strays that attacked Harry… they’re my old pack, the ones I left after they joined with Voldemort,” Jenson explained and instantly Romy stilled, Callie’s arms tightened around her. If Romy hadn’t been terrified before then there was no mistaking or doubting that she was now.
“No, no no...” she said, her voice soft and barely audible, trembling at the mention of them as she remembered what that had done, what they had planned to do if Jenson hadn’t have saved her. “Are they…? Are they... here for me?”
Even Clayton let out a protective growl at the thought of anyone hurting Romy, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the other members of the pack. Callie remembered all too clearly the night that Jenson had arrived in the clearing with the half dead little girl in his arms, practically begging them to save her. It had just been her and the Alpha back then. It had taken many months of healing, mentally as well as physically, plus a lot of talking, to get Romy better and even then she hadn’t wanted to attempt to go in search of her biological family that she had been snatched from. She had felt safe in the pack and it had been her choice to stay.
“No,” Jenson said clearly in answer to his daughter’s question, making sure he met her eyes so she would know he spoke the truth. “I don’t know why they were here but they were surprised to see me and they thought you were dead. They aren’t here for you, sweet girl,” he said to his daughter comfortingly, resting a comforting hand on her cheek, which she leaned into.
“No one will touch her anyway,” Clayton growled fiercely.
“Agreed,” Damon said, “But that still begs the question, why are they here?”
“They were pretty fixated on Harry,” Micha said, in a rather shaky voice as he pictured how they had had Harry vastly outnumbered and pinned to the tree, “when we arrived …” he tried to go on, but his voice trailed off, shuffling a little closer to Damon who wrapped an arm over his shoulders, holding him tightly in comfort.
“It’s okay, Micha,” Jenson said reassuringly, not wanting the younger wolf to have to relive it again by telling the rest of the group what had happened. It was his job to recount the story. “When we arrived, they had a knife up to Harry’s groin,” Jenson explained, “as if they were going to…” He didn’t need to finish that sentence. Everyone knew what the strays would have been about to do. Even Romy, one of the most innocent of them all, had a good general idea.
“Whatever was done to him, it’s freaked him out. I’ve never seen him like this before,” Clayton said, casting a glance over to where his best friend was lying very still beside the unconscious Alpha male, crying.
“If he hadn’t shouted out...,” Jenson said, shaking his head sadly. “His screams, they were so frightened, but at least they lead us right to him,” he explained, dreading to think what might have happened if Harry had been unable to call out.
“He is clearly traumatised and as much as we all hate that, there is probably nothing we can do about that right now,” Damon told them, “what I am really worried about is getting him to eat or drink something. He can’t carry on like this for much longer.”
“I’m worried he’ll get sick if he doesn’t, and if that happens then…” Callie said, her voice trailing off for a moment before she found the courage to say what she knew none of them would want to hear, “...then we will have no choice but to tear him away from the Alpha, even if it means stunning him.”
“You can’t,” Clay pleaded, looking horrified at that idea.
“If Harry gets sick, he could give Fenrir an infection,” Callie tried to explain to her nephew, “and at this point, if the Alpha gets an infection it could kill him."
Clay bit his lip, knowing that they were right but he had hated seeing Harry so broken and the idea that they would stun him, just seemed… wrong. “He’s just scared… please,” he begged, turning to look at his Dad, “…let me try first.”
“Clayton, the last time we left the two of you alone together you ended up punching each other! What makes you think that it’s a good idea for you to go anywhere near Harry right now?” Damon asked sceptically.
“Because he’s still my best friend,” Clayton said defensively, “I promise, no more fist fights… this week at least,” he added under his breath, and while Damon heard him he didn’t comment on it. “Just please let me try,” Clay said with his most pleading expression.
Damon frowned at his adoptive son; he was sure that everything would go a lot smoother if they could actually manage to get Harry to eat and drink willingly, rather than having to resort to stunning him and forcing it down his throat. They wanted, needed even, for Harry to trust them, for him to become a fully-fledged member of the pack. That was never going to happen if they had to use such extreme measures to keep him nourished, and he dreaded to think what Fenrir would say about such treatment of his mate, even if it was to potentially save his own life. Equally they weren’t going to let him pass out from lack of nutrition either.
“Alright,” Damon said with a resigned sigh, it had to be worth a try. “You have one chance,” he said sternly holding up his index finger to emphasis the point. “If there is ANY hint of either of you starting a fight, especially around the Alpha, then there will be hell to pay. Do you understand me, Clayton?!”
Clay nodded his understanding moving to sit up from where he had been leaning against his Dad; he could hear how serious he was on this matter. Though, it wasn’t exactly as if he liked fighting with Harry, it just seemed to happen a lot recently. Getting to his feet, under the watchful eyes of the rest of the pack, he grabbed one of the bottles that contained the fresh drinking water.
He took a steadying breath and tentatively made his way towards his best friend and the packs Alpha. After Harry’s display a few moments before he wasn’t going to take any chances and ensured that he kept a safe distance away from the teenager, going a bit of a long way around to make sure he was within Harry’s eye line. He knew he couldn’t let this go wrong, especially seeing as he knew how low they were running on medical supplies now. He didn’t want to end up getting bitten like Jenson had.
“Harry…?” Clay said softly, trying to meet Harry’s eyes, not wanting to startle his clearly distressed best friend.
“Leave us alone,” Harry said, however his voice was neither challenging nor violent anymore, it was hopeless and defeated. It made Clay’s heart ache to hear his strong, stubborn friend sound as if he was on the brink of simply giving up.
“I will,” he promised, settling himself down on the grass a few feet away from the Alpha and his rather protective mate, his brain calculating what he thought might be a safe distance. “But…” he added, “Before I go, I want you to do something for me first.”
“Just leave Clay, please,” Harry pleaded desperately.
“Drink some of this and I’ll leave you alone,” Clay said, “alternatively I can sit here and talk your ear off until you give in and just drink the water anyway. You know me, Harry, I’d do it too and we both know which one of us is more stubborn. So what are you going to do?”
“Give me the damn bottle,” Harry said grumpily, but Clay thought there was a hint of amusement on his friend’s face. Harry let out a sigh as he sat up a little and glared at his best friend, who gave him a triumphant and slightly smug grin as he offered over the water bottle.
The rest of the pack watched on, in impressed amazement as Harry sat up a little and accepted the bottle from Clayton, even taking a swig before lying back down against the Alpha’s side. Damon was surprised that it had been so quick and easy. Triumphantly Clay returned to the group a few minutes later looking rather smug with his achievement. He had left the bottle of water with Harry, encouraging him to keep drinking until the bottle was empty or he’d come back and make good on his promise to talk his ear off. They had been friends for far too long for Harry to doubt him.
“How did you do that?” Romy asked curiously from her place in her mother’s lap.
Clayton smiled at her. “I told him I’d stay exactly where I was and not stop talking to him until he drank something.”
Romy scoffed a little at this. “No wonder he gave in so quickly, I would have done as well with that threat.” At her laugh, Clay poking his tongue out at her; it was almost like normalcy had returned to the clearing. However things were hardly normal but at least Harry had had some water, which was something at least. They still had the problem with running out of supplies and of course the strays that were still lurking around, presumably trying to get Harry, though they couldn’t be sure on that.
“We need supplies,” Damon said, mostly to Jenson, who seemed to have automatically fallen into the role of acting Beta.
“I can pick some up when I go to my house to work tomorrow,” Lukas suggested casually, clearly thinking it was no big deal.
“You are NOT going to leave the territory!” Damon snapped at him instantly.
“It’s okay,” Micha piped up, “I’ll go with him, we’ll keep each other safe.”
“Absolutely NOT!” Damon said furiously and with stubborn determination; he had ignored his instincts about letting Micha out of the territory once, and he would not be doing that again anytime soon.
“I have to work tomorrow,” Lukas said carefully, “I’ll be careful and I can get the supplies that we need without any hassle. I’m happy to go alone or take someone with me but I do have to go.”
“No,” Damon said again, more firm this time, “If you need to work you will bring it here. You and ….” Damon surveyed his pack. He needed his best fighters here to protect the injured Alpha and the pups. He knew that he couldn’t send Lukas alone, Jenson was the best fighter of the pack, after Fenrir, and would have to stay put too. There was no question of sending Micha, he had been through too much and needed to rest. His only other option was Callie, she would at least know what they needed in the way of medical supplies but he was loathed to send his little sister away where he couldn’t protect her but they really did desperately need supplies.
“Callie … you’ll have to go with him,” Damon told her, shaking his head in disbelief that he was even considering this. “If you are gone any longer than two hours I will have to send people looking for you. Don’t make me do that.”
“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Callie said and she had to put a reassuring hand on Jenson’s shoulder; he was even less happy about her going than Damon was.
“Why can’t Micha go instead?” Jenson challenged, he didn’t want his mate leaving to go on a run for supplies when things were so precarious for them. The thought of not being able to protect her terrified him.
“Micha has been through enough,” Damon said sternly, he understood Jenson’s concern, but right now he was the acting Alpha and they would abide by his decision on the matter. “I need you here to help me fight if it comes to it,” he explained. “Callie knows what we need and she’ll have Lukas with her. You know it makes sense Jenson,” Damon said, hating that he was being forced to explain his thought process to the acting Beta wolf. What they didn’t need right now was a fight for dominance, it was something they had to avoid at all costs.
“Fine,” Jenson said in a huff. “But I don’t like it.” He flung an arm around Callie and grew her close to him, dragging Romy into him too where both of them got a kiss to the temple as he gathered them into him.
Damon could only look at him apologetically. He hated doing it and would have much rather have gone himself but he couldn’t risk leaving. He needed to watch over the pups and defend the territory. With Fenrir unable to fight he and Jenson were the two best fighters the pack had, it was a stretch letting Lukas go as it was but he couldn’t risk sending anyone anywhere alone.
“I really could go,” Micha said in barely more than a whisper from where he was still tucked into Damon’s side.
“Do NOT argue with me on this, Micha,” he said in the firmest voice he could manage.
“I’m not weak, you know, I could go,” Micha said a bit grumpily, tired of being treated like one of the pups, he was four years older than Lukas even; so what if he didn’t always act like it.
“Micha,” Damon growled in warning. It was enough that Micha didn’t say another word on the matter, though he was distinctly annoyed that he wasn’t thought capable about going on a simple run for supplies. The Alpha had taken him once and he’d loved it. Fenrir would have let him go. He didn’t understand why Damon wouldn’t even consider it but would let his frail sister go in his place.
Micha had never understood the thought processes that went into the decisions the Alpha and Beta wolf made. Having grown up in a pack as the youngest of two brothers he had been mollycoddled by his mother far too much. When his eldest brother had challenged their Alpha, Micha had been forced to pick a side. He had of course aligned himself with his brother, believing him strong enough to defeat their current Alpha, he had been wrong however. His two brothers, father and mother had all been killed in that fight for dominance and although his life had been spared he had been exiled from his pack. The Alpha wolf had known that Micha was no threat as a submissive and had doubted that he would survive on his own.
The twenty five year old had been fortunate, after escaping an attempted recruitment by deatheaters, that he had been found by Fenrir and accepted into the pack. If he hadn’t have been that lucky then he probably wouldn’t have survived, just as his first Alpha had predicted.
FGHP
Hogwarts in general was getting to Draco, he felt like the whole term so far had been nothing but a waste of time. He wasn’t learning much in his lessons, he was fed up with his so called friends, and that monstrosity of a cabinet in that implausible room was driving him to distraction. He had decided he needed to get away from the place for a couple of days. He needed to see his mother, and properly meet his baby brother, Brax. He hoped that it would be suitable motivation to encourage him to keep going no matter how hopeless it seemed.
The trouble was that students were not usually permitted to return home during term time except under extraordinary circumstances and he didn’t think that ‘I need a break from pretending to help Voldemort’ would really fly with the Headmaster. Given his family’s well known associations with the Dark Lord and his cronies he couldn’t imagine Dumbledore agreeing to give him a leave of absence under any conditions, in all honesty, not without expecting something in return. He didn’t want to owe the headmaster anything.
This left him with the rather distasteful option of talking to Umbridge and her two shadow goons; to convince them that he should be allowed to go home for the weekend. He assumed that this would be an easier task than asking the headmaster directly. He had to be able to convince them , however, and if he had to tell them he had to see Voldemort to get the permission he needed, then that was what he was prepared to do.
The Dark Lord’s presence in Malfoy Manor meant that he wouldn’t be able to go home without updating him on his progress so far; if he wanted to survive that encounter then he would have to be able to present his term so far in a more favourable light than he viewed it. He was under no delusion about the Carrows; he was sure they would have been sneaking Voldemort snippets of information on him. He could feel them watching every move that he made, making Draco feel rather trapped. It was the whole reason he had been struggling with the cabinet so much. It wasn’t often that he found the opportunity to sneak away without drawing attention to himself.
“Madam Umbridge,” Draco called out in a polite tone as he saw her leaving the Great Hall with the Carrow siblings in tow. She never seemed to go anywhere without them; it had been made clear that, unless it involved the blood quill, she didn’t like getting her hands dirty.
The odious woman turned at the sound of her name being called, the sickly sweet smile gracing overly pink lips. “May I help you, young man?” she asked curiously and Draco couldn’t help but appreciate just how much like a toad she was. Everything about her repulsed him, from her painted lips and her bright pink clothing, to her sickly sweet perfume that she wore far too much of.
The Carrow siblings had taken up their usual positions either side of her and surveyed Draco with interest, but he made no move even acknowledge their presence, the Deatheaters were of no concern of his. “I was hoping that I might ask something of you, Madam Umbridge.”
“You may ask,” she said keeping her sugary tone in her voice as she gave him the once over. All she knew about the boy was his name and the fact that he had kept his head down, got on with his school work and managed to slip under the radar so far this year. She was yet to make up her mind about whether or not she approved.
“I am not sure if you are aware, but my parents are playing host to a rather special guest currently,” he said pointedly, letting the Carrow’s know exactly who it was that he meant. “I was hoping that I might get permission to go home this weekend so that I might see him.”
The Carrows looked to each other and then back to Draco, who knew that as thick as they were they had understood the subtle undertones of his request. Umbridge, however, was oblivious and looked at him disapprovingly, ready to deny his request with a sickly smile of satisfaction. She did so love to dash the hopes of students.
“I am sure that you are aware that only under extraordinary circumstances…” she started to say, but the female Carrow leaned forward and whispered something, that Draco didn’t catch, in Umbridge’s ear; her smile quickly turned more into a grimace and her eyes narrowed. “Fine,” she snapped, her voice becoming higher pitched, and irritable, and Draco had to resist flinching. “I think that we can arrange for you to go home for the weekend, given your… circumstances.”
Clearly she was displeased at being denied the joy of saying no. Draco was acutely aware that her mood would no doubt be unleashed on some unsuspected student, who had done likely done little or nothing wrong, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He had got exactly what he wanted, he would be going home to see his mother and Brax. Of course he would also have to see the Dark Lord but he could cope with that, he hoped.
Draco plastered what he hoped was a grateful smile on his face, as though the woman had done him a great kindness in permitting the weekend to go home. “I really appreciate, that, thank you,” he said, giving her a small, courteous bow, during which he sneered his disgust, but by the time he was standing facing them again, he was smiling pleasantly once more.
He made a hasty exit from the Great Hall at that point, trying to not look too pleased with himself. He really didn’t much care that Umbridge obviously disapproved, nor did he care what her thoughts on why he needed to go home for the weekend were. He couldn’t even be bothered to give a second thought to what the Carrows might have told her to sway her opinion on the matter. All that was important to him now, was that he would be able to go home; he would be able to spend some time with his mother and brother, and that was even worth the meeting he would have to have with the Dark Lord.
He now had two days, in which time he needed to have a damn good explanation of what he had achieved to further the Dark Lord’s mission; the truth was absolutely nothing, but somehow Draco suspected that wasn’t what Lord Voldemort would want to hear. If he were to avoid the cruciatus curse he would have to present something of interest to the Dark Lord and as of right now he had no idea what that might be.
FGHP
No one was fully at ease when Gideon had returned to his pack, after his meeting with Voldemort, with a new member, who seemed a little unhinged. Russ had taken an instant dislike to the large, brutish man, who he saw as replacing his brother. Roderic’s grave was still fresh and he hated Gideon for bringing someone new into the pack so soon.
Axlar seemed not to care, or even be remotely interested, about any of them; he had sat down against the trunk of a tree, taken out his knitting and quite happily just sat there casting on and adding in more stitches. The other werewolves looking at him as if he were deranged; they had no idea how close to the truth they were.
Dean and Jack had been fascinated by the new hand that Voldemort had gifted Gideon with. They couldn’t stand to touch it without feeling pain, as the silver burnt their skin, and they were in awe of their Alpha for being able to have it attached to his body, delighted when Gideon swore he would strangle the life out of Jenson with it.
Gideon didn’t see any reason to tell them that it wouldn’t do him any damage unless he refused to follow the orders of the Dark Lord, as far as he was concerned it was no-one’s business but his and the Dark Lord’s. He would have no one think him under anyone’s control. He would ensure his pack knew him to be strong and resilient, and if they were foolish enough to believe his strength was even against silver, then that was on them. It was at least clear that his position as Alpha was no longer under threat.
The injuries that the others had suffered were healing nicely but they still had a long way to go before they were restored to their full strength, as individuals, let alone as a pack. Gideon knew that their task, to capture Greyback and his little whore, wasn’t going to be achieved overnight. They had to await numbers to come to them, they would gather intelligence with the new recruit that Voldemort had promised, one that would infiltrate Greyback’s pack. They would bide their time before they attacked.
“Look at him,” Dean sneered to Russ as they all stood around their little camp fire, warming their hands; the two of them were glaring at the new pack member who was still rather absorbed in his knitting, paying no one any attention. “I doubt he’s even a werewolf!”
Jack was sat a little way from the group; he had suffered several more beatings as each of the werewolves proved their strength had not been broken or impinged by the attack, and now he was simply glad that he was finally being given the chance to heal his own injuries. He wasn’t going to risk drawing attention to himself for a while and so he just kept quiet, watching, observing but not saying a word. Gideon, on the other hand, smirked when he heard Dean’s words.
The Alpha had been wondering when this would happen. It was par for the course, when a new werewolf joined a pack, that eventually a fight for dominance and position would ensue; but this was sooner than he had anticipated. The Alpha looked between the new recruit and the current Beta wolf wondering who would stand victorious if it came down to a fight. He knew whom he would have preferred as his second in command. He needed the strongest, he needed the best.
Axlar put down his knitting project calmly and precisely, after finishing his current row, and stood up. He was at least six foot four, which put him at about four inches taller than Dean. There was no denying that Axlar was a foreboding man; his dull blue eyes were cold and calculating as he walked up to Dean with a sickly grin on his face.
“Problem?” Axlar asked, almost politely, and Dean glared at him.
Russ, who had no interest in this man nor the fight for dominance that was to ensue, took a step backwards, allowing the two wolves space. It wasn’t the position of Beta wolf he was after. He didn’t even want to be Alpha anymore, not now that Gideon had regained a hand of sorts and proved himself to be a worthy and strong leader.
“Yeah, there’s a problem,” Dean said with a growl. “What kind of wolf likes to fucking knit baby booties?”
Surprisingly Axlar said nothing, he simply turned to look at Gideon as if seeking permission. The Alpha nodded his approval. “Just don’t kill him, we need the numbers,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Dean didn’t even have time to look confused before he was forcefully grabbed by the large hands that belonged to Axlar and thrown thirty feet across the forest, into the trunk of a tree, as though he weighed nothing.
Dean groaned with pain, having jarred his still recovering shoulder, but before he could regain himself, a weight bore down on top of him. Instantly Dean tried to throw a punch, to get the great oaf off him but Axlar’s weight was too much, larger and heavier than the current Beta wolf, who could find no purchase. In seconds teeth were at his throat, clamping down on soft flesh, drawing blood.
It was a mark of dominance, Dean wouldn’t have to submit to the other wolf now; Axlar had staked his claim and proven that he was dominant to Dean, and, doing so, taken his place as the Beta wolf of the pack. Gideon had watched the exchange with glee, happy that the delightfully psychotic new pack member had proven himself adequate to be his second in command.
Mere moments after the rather lacklustre tussle between the two wolves was over, a slow, monotonous clapping came to their attention. Everyone was instantly on alert as they looked around for the source of the sound. They believed that they could potentially be under attack and all of them tensed, ready to defend themselves and their pack if it came to it. When a young man came into view, clearly having disillusioned himself, they all looked surprised but none of them relaxed. They weren’t going to be caught off guard again.
“What a disappointing display,” he drawled as if bored. “Especially from a werewolf of your calibre,” the stranger said addressing Axlar who seemed pleased to have received the compliment.
Gideon, who was not one to be ignored, had crossed the distance between himself and the strange wolf in a second, clasping the man's throat with his left hand. He wanted to choke the life out of the clearly cocky and arrogant young man but he refrained, needing answers more than he needed another body on his hands. “Who are you?” the Alpha wolf demanded.
“Begging your pardon, my Alpha, I didn’t mean to be rude,” the handsome young man said with a charming smile. “Harlan Cobain, the Dark Lord sent me.” Gideon released his hold, surveying Harlan with interest. “He said I’d be going behind enemy lines so to speak.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Gideon snarled as he released Harlan and turned back to his pack. Axlar, not perceiving the new werewolf to be a threat had resumed his knitting, Russ had taken a seat by the camp fire, staring into the flames, brooding, as he had done every day since his brother had died. Dean was sulking, clearly in a foul mood after not only having his position in the pack challenged but then also being so easily defeated. Gideon watched curiously as Harlan walked confidently over to where Axlar was sitting and took a seat beside him.
“I’m a big fan of your work,” the newcomer said with a wide, charming grin. The unhinged wolf turned to look at the man that was now invading his personal space and cocked his head to one side, looking at him curiously but not saying a word. “All those women,” Harlan sighed as if yearning for a taste of them himself, “They must have been great fun.”
“Some more than others,” Axlar replied with a sickening grin. All ears were on the two of them now, especially Jack who lapped up the conversation with silent enthusiasm. He wasn’t stupid, he could see the foul mood that Dean was in and knew that he’d get the brunt of it if he made his presence known.
“I heard you super glued their eyes open,” Harlan said almost excitedly, igniting a spark of joy in Axlar’s cold eyes as if he were remembering fondly, “I highly respect that.”
Gideon had to admit that Voldemort certainly had a talent for finding slightly unbalanced werewolves. He looked to the handsome young man with his light brown hair and sage green eyes and snorted as the thought crossed his mind that the boy, who was clearly the youngest of the group, could have looked right at home on the cover of a romance novel.
With the addition of Harlan to their numbers their pack had increased in size to six. They still needed time to heal, to bond and to prepare but they were well on their way to becoming strong enough to take down the Greyback pack. Then they would take him and his little whore to the Dark Lord. However, not before they had their fun with the others, even if they couldn’t harm the submissive.
FGHP
Dumbledore had been most displeased to hear that Umbridge had approved Draco Malfoy for a weekend visit to his see his parents. Did the boy think him a fool? Surely it was obvious that there was more on the agenda than a simple family reunion. However, he had to admit that the Malfoy child seemed decidedly uneasy when he stepped into the headmaster’s office.
The headmaster felt a certain amount of vindictive glee that, whatever plot or scheme the boy had got himself mixed up in, it was not pressing lightly upon his conscience. Of course, he was curious; it was not Tom’s style to send fifteen year olds off to do his business, he had far too many other more… experienced servants for such things.
However, there was so little to be done on the matter at the moment, given that Draco wouldn’t even be present in the school for the next couple of days, and as such he set aside such thoughts and suspicions for later examination.
“Hurry along now, Mr Malfoy,” the headmaster encouraged, dropping a small handful of floo powder into the teenager’s hand. “We wouldn’t want to keep… your parents waiting.”
The blonde’s attempt to restrain a scowl was admittedly rather amusing but Dumbledore had other business to attend to and found he had little patience for the boy’s dilly dallying. As such it was a relief to see him vanish in a flash of green flames, leaving the headmaster alone in his office once more.
“Now, onto some serious matters, don’t you think, Fawkes,” he said to his phoenix. Since his discovery of the Resurrection Stone, his interest in the Deathly Hallows had taken on a fever the likes of which he not felt in half a century; he was so close, and there was just one final piece to collect. He would have it for himself, but that would mean retrieving it from Lupin; Dumbledore just had a feeling the man would be less than willing to be parted from James Potter’s most precious of items, but he would see it done.
Determination flooded through him, as memories of his youthful quest for the legendary items rejuvenated him. He grabbed a handful of floo powder for himself and stepping into the fireplace, with a call of “Twelve Grimmauld Place,” he disappeared from the room, much as the Malfoy boy had done, only moments earlier.
FGHP
Three days had passed since the attack and Callie was pleased with the progress that Fenrir had made; however, he was still healing and he was still unconscious, which added to the mounting anxiety in the territory as they all continued to fear for his life. They had not even attempted to remove Harry from the Alpha’s side again, not even when Callie did her checks, fearing that they would undo the small progress they had made with the pup. He was consuming water now, but had yet to leave Fenrir’s side and was adamantly refusing to eat, claiming that he just wasn’t hungry.
Each and every member of the pack was worried for Harry; they could see him growing weaker by the day and it scared them. No one knew what to do with him though. He still wouldn’t talk to them and he was still distrusting of Callie after what had happened the first time she had checked Fenrir over, though he continued to allow it of her, even if it was only to keep his mate alive. Logically he knew that she was the only one who could ensure that Fenrir would live.
He wouldn’t talk about what had happened to him with the strays, despite various pack members trying to coax information out of him. Even Clay, who had been the one to finally get him to at least accept water, couldn’t convince him to eat or talk. Harry just wanted to be left alone with the Alpha. They all worried what would happen to Harry, and if he would be able to cope at all, if Fenrir didn’t make it, but that was something none of them wanted to discuss.
It was Lukas who finally came up with an idea to help Harry. Flushed with the success of an uneventful trip into town with Callie to gather supplies, he had decided to tackle the problem with the uncooperative pup head on. He cared too much for the little one to see him slowly killing himself like this. He knew that forcing Harry or tricking him wasn’t going to help in the long run even though it might have done in the short term.
What they needed was for Harry to accept that he was hurting himself, and potentially the Alpha, and to get him to care about that. Lukas discussed it with Damon, who was happy to try anything at this point. The Beta was clearly stressed by the additional responsibilities that had fallen on his shoulders, a state that wasn’t helped any by his worries for Harry and Fenrir.
So this was why, just as Callie was starting to cook lunch with Romy's help, Lukas decided it was time. He approached Harry and Fenrir with caution, hoping that he wouldn’t be seen as a threat. He mirrored what Clay had done a few evenings previously, keeping a safe distance and remaining in Harry’s eye line at all times so that the pup could see him coming and wouldn’t be startled by his sudden presence. He settled himself a little closer than Clayton had dared to, refusing to be scared of the fifteen year old.
“Go away,” Lukas heard Harry growl, his voice low and hostile.
None of the others even looked up from what they had been doing. Damon was the only one who was aware of what Lukas was planning and was now watched them eagerly as he realised what Lukas was doing. Micha had been dozing in his lap but the acting Alpha now placed him gently down on some blankets near the fire, just in case Harry lost it again. Despite now having the supplies they needed, he still didn’t want to have to deal with anymore injuries, no matter how minor.
“I’m not going anywhere, little one,” Lukas said gently. “I want to talk to you, I miss our chats.”
Harry simply glared at him thinking that this wasn’t really the time to be discussing Arithmancy or, in fact anything intellectual. He just wanted to curl up against his mate and be left alone. He couldn’t’ understand why the others were so keen to get him to move, to eat, to do anything that involved taking him away from Fenrir. He didn’t want to go anywhere until his mate was better.
“Don’t want to talk,” Harry grunted. He seemed to be channelling Fenrir rather well with his lacking conversation skills as of late. Lukas might have found it rather amusing if the situation hadn’t been so dire.
"Then don't talk, little one, just listen," Lukas said. “You said that we were friends and I assume that that means you trust me and know that I wouldn’t lie to you.” Lukas waited patiently for the pup to acknowledge this, watching Harry very carefully until he finally gave a small nod of his head.
“This may not be something you want to hear, little one, but I wouldn’t tell you unless you needed to hear it.” Taking a deep breath Lukas prepared himself for the fallout for what he was about to say, glad that at least they had supplies if Harry lost his temper and ended up biting someone again. “If you carry on the way you’re going you’ll make yourself sick. If that happens you could pass on an infection to the Alpha, which could kill him. Do you understand, little one?”
Harry looked at him fearfully, wide green eyes watering, and Lukas felt a stab of guilt in his chest; he hadn’t meant to upset the teenager. He had thought that he would be facing a distressed, emotionally charged and angry young man, however Harry just seemed lost and terrified, a small hand clutched tightly at the large bicep of the Alpha wolf in panic at the mention of him not making it.
“I don’t …” Harry started to say before he lost the battle to hold back his emotions and his tears began to fall.
“Harry …” Lukas said apologetically, “please, let us help you.”
Mutely Harry gave a small nod, cuddling up against the Alpha, his tears running silently down his cheeks and on to Fenrir’s large chest. Harry already felt so guilty for being the reason that Fenrir was in this state in the first place. He couldn't be the reason he died too.
“Will you talk to me?” Lukas asked, hesitantly, knowing it was a lot to expect of the pup. “Or anyone? We’re worried about you,” he added.
Harry suddenly flinched away from him, hiding his head against the Alpha and Lukas thought he could see him trembling slightly. He hated to see the usually head strong teenager in such a state. He needed to find out what had happened to make him this way. Once they got him to open up then they would be able to help him come to terms with it and, with any luck, move on too.
"Okay, okay…,” Lukas tried to reassure, unsurprised that he was going to have to take it in small steps. “Will you at least eat something?" he questioned and after a moment of hesitation, Harry gave a small nod of agreement. Considering the young boy hadn’t eaten in days his agreement was a huge step forward.
"Here" the teenager insisted softly, "I can't leave him."
"I understand that,” Lukas agreed, not particularly surprised by the request. “It won't be a problem to eat here so long as you eat."
Harry nodded minutely again; he watched Lukas very carefully for a few moments, as the older werewolf got up, before he rested his head back on Fenrir’s shoulder. “I’ll be good,” Harry whispered to the Alpha, making barely a sound, “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised almost silently.
Lukas went and informed Callie that, at long last, Harry was finally going to be requiring food, something that made her smile in relief, Romy too. At once they added some more vegetables to the pot over the fire to ensure that they had plenty to go around. If Harry had decided that he was going to eat then they were going to make sure there was plenty to give him. After a few days with nothing they needed to put something in his empty belly.
“Thank you, Lukas,” Damon said unexpectedly, approaching Lukas with a grateful look on his face.
“Why are you thanking me?” Lukas asked with confusion.
“I’m thanking you for whatever you said to Harry that has made him decide to eat. I was considering stunning him, drugging his water, anything. I doubt either of those options would have ended well.”
Lukas gave a tired sigh, looking pointedly at the acting Alpha with exasperation, “Harry responds to facts, that is what I gave him. That poor child, because that is what he still is, a child, has been through hell and I don’t think we really appreciate that enough,” he told Damon firmly. “He’s struggling right now but, that night, he tried to come home; he knew he had made a mistake by running again. I can see that he’s blaming himself for what’s happened and I see that you are too, though you’d never say it. Grabbing him the way you did, after he had suffered such a traumatic event… well, let’s just say that I am surprised he didn’t have a full blown meltdown,” Lukas explained, his voice tense and stern.
Damon didn’t quite know what to say. Lukas had never spoken to anyone in such a way before, Damon wasn’t sure how to react. To see the twenty-one year old, intellectual werewolf go off on a rant was unlike anything the acting Alpha had ever expected. He wasn’t entirely sure how Fenrir coped with this on a day to day basis but he could sure as hell understand the grumpy moods now he had a brand new perspective.
“I’m going to try to talk to him, emphasis on try, though,” Lukas told him, “I’m going to try and get him to open up about what happened while we eat.”
Without saying anything else, or allowing Damon time to speak, Lukas turned away and headed back to Harry. He knew that Callie or Romy would bring them their food when it was ready but right now he wanted to try to get Harry to agree to talk to him. Lukas feared that it would take a fair amount of coaxing to get anything out of the teenager.
Lukas resumed his seat close to Harry and the Alpha but once again he only made slow movements and ensured that he remained in the teenager's eye line; startling the teen could set them back to square one. He was going to get Harry talking over this meal, he was determined; he hoped that he could get to the bottom of what had traumatised the boy, but knew that might be wishful thinking.
“Harry…” Lukas said softly, smiling when green eyes flickered open and met his, “Callie is cooking us some food,” he told him.
Lukas said nothing more looking over at where Callie and Romy were working near the fire, giving Harry a few minutes to get comfortable with his presence there.
“I know you don’t want to talk, little one,” Lukas said kindly, still not looking in the teen’s direction, “but can I keep talking to you?” he asked, knowing full well that he wouldn’t see if Harry nodded or shook his head. Harry would have to answer him aloud.
“O...Okay…” Harry said, his voice a little shaky.
“Thanks,” Lukas said, turning back to the younger werewolf with a pleased smile on his face. “You know that I love you like a brother, don’t you, Harry?”
Harry nodded again, and even managed to smile at that, “I know,” he whispered, “I… love you like that too,” he added looking a little embarrassed at the admission. “It’s just…” Harry started to say, but seemed to get stuck and was unable to say anymore.
“I want to understand, Harry,” Lukas prompted, pleased that Harry was engaging in a conversation with him already. “It might help to talk about it, you know?” he suggested.
Harry shook his head, almost in panic, at that. “Harry,” Lukas said sternly and wide green eyes were suddenly focused on the older werewolf again. “We’re friends, remember? So that means I tell you the truth, just like with what I told you before.”
Harry frowned at him, clearly not liking the reminder, but he didn’t try to hide away or retreat into himself again, so that was progress.
“Well this is kind of the same thing,” Lukas tried to explain, “I know it was horrible and scary, but I can’t know what you are feeling, or keep from accidentally scaring you, if I don’t understand. Does that make sense?”
Harry was still frowning, but he seemed to be considering the point. He was so tired of being scared, he knew the pack cared about him and Lukas only wanted to help him, but the only thing that had made him feel safe, since that night, was the feel of Fenrir next to him. Even in his weak and exhausted mind he could recognise the irrationality of relying on an unconscious man for security and now Lukas was offering him an alternative. One that Harry knew he should probably accept and so, a few moments later, he gave a tiny nod of agreement
“Will you tell me what happened when you left Harry?” Lukas asked gently, wanting to make it clear exactly what he wanted to discuss.
Harry looked alarmed at that, and started to shake his head in refusal before he stopped himself. Lukas waited patiently, which paid off when Harry slowly sat himself up, however he was still sitting impossibly close to the Alpha wolf and clutched at his large hand, holding on to it, as though for dear life.
“Take as long as you need,” Lukas assured him, but otherwise remaining silent and patient.
“I heard Fenrir talking to Damon on Halloween morning. They…” Harry took a deep breath and look down at his and Fenrir’s joined hands. “They thought I was asleep,” he said thinking that it was best to start at the beginning.
If he was going to talk about this then he needed to start from the top and work his way up to it. It was going to be difficult enough to go through again as it was. He was sure that this was the only time he was going to recall it but he knew Lukas would pay attention and wouldn’t make him repeat anything. If he was going to talk to anyone about what had happened that night then he was glad it was Lukas. There would be no judgement or assumptions from Lukas, Harry trusted in that, but it was still making him feel a little unwell with anxiety.
“What did they say that made you want to run away again?” Lukas asked gently, encouraging Harry to keep talking.
“There was a lot,” Harry told him, “but it was finding out that Fenrir was the one who bit me that really bothered me,” he explained, “it was when I was a toddler. They also said that I was supposed to be his mate now and that I was somehow... different. It scared me.” His voice was so quiet and his watering emerald eyes didn’t stray from the Alpha, sweeping over every inch of him and ensuring that he was still breathing.
“Understandable, it was a shock,” Lukas said reassuringly, wanting it clear that he wasn’t judging Harry. It was mostly news to Lukas too, and he could understand why Harry had been so upset by the revelations, but he would process whatever Harry told him, later, for now he would maintain his calm and patience. This seemed to work as Harry visibly relaxed a little.
“I left; I thought…” Harry stopped, pinching his eyes shut and shook his head.
“It’s okay, Harry,” Lukas told him, “I understand that you changed your mind, that you don't think the same thing anymore; but what did you think then.”
“I thought that I didn’t want to be here,” the younger werewolf admitted, his tone apologetic, “and that by leaving it would make everything better. The moment I got out of the territory it felt wrong.” He opened his eyes again, and met Lukas’ “I wanted to come back.” Harry shuddered as he remembered the feeling; how alone and afraid he had felt without his pack, without his Alpha, and outside of the territory.
“What happened to stop you just turning round and coming back?” Lukas pressed on gently, he could see that the others were dishing up the finished meal and knew that they were about to be interrupted but he didn’t want Harry to stop talking, not yet. He was amazed how much the pup was saying and was worried that if they stopped now, that it would be a huge step backwards.
“They came,” Harry said, his voice shaking, as he pulled his knees up to his chest, holding them there with the arm that wasn’t still clutching to the Alpha. “Five of them,” he whispered, “...chasing me. They were laughing at me, like…” Harry searched around for the word, “...like it was just a game to them.”
Wisely Callie had sent Romy over with the two bowls of stew. Even from the distance away he was sitting, Lukas could see that it was still steaming. Romy definitely looked nervous and started by handing one of the bowls to Lukas; it was more vegetables than meat as they hadn’t had much of a chance to go hunting of late but it was hot and it was food. The young girl wore a determined expression as she approached Harry and put the second bowl down on the ground within arm’s reach, but not daring to get too close after what had happened to her dad. Though Lukas thought it was a big improvement that Harry hadn’t growled at her for getting close to him and Fenrir.
“So they prevented you from coming back into the territory?” Lukas asked so that Harry wouldn’t stop his recollection of the evening now that he had started. The pup’s eyes, which had been watching Romy carefully, flicked back to Lukas, who was, again, waiting patiently for Harry to answer in his own time.
It had been easier than he thought to open up to his pack brother, and once he had gotten talking he had felt as though he wanted Lukas to understand, but he had felt like the moment had been broken when Romy had come over with their meals and now he turned to glare at the bowl of stew as if it meant to do him harm. He could see the steam coming off it and the smell was definitely appealing but his insides felt like they had been tied in knots and he wasn’t sure he would be able to stomach it.
“You promised you would eat,” Lukas reminded him, “at least try it,” he suggested taking a spoonful of his own. “It’s good, but hot, be careful not to burn yourself.”
Harry bit his lip and then, letting go of Fenrir for a brief moment, he reached out and picked up the bowl. Lukas was right; he could feel the heat radiating out into his hands, but he appreciated it, given that, for the first time in nearly three days, he wasn’t curled up next to a warm body. Harry put the bowl on the ground between his legs and quickly took up his grip on Fenrir’s hand again. He was careful to ensure that the hot food was kept well away from the unconscious Alpha, not wanting to spill it on him.
Lukas tried not to watch too closely, as Harry raised a small mouthful of the broth to his mouth and sipped at it, not wanting to put the pup off. He was fairly sure he hadn’t taken any of the vegetables or meat, but even this was a huge step forward. Lukas certainly wasn’t going to knock it.
“Thank you,” Lukas said, and Harry gave him a confused look. “For trying it,” he clarified. “Will you try telling me how they stopped you from coming back?”
Harry frowned and looked down at his food again, but realised that Lukas was right, he did have to try. He wanted to feel better, he wanted to get back to normal and not feel so scared so he tried to continue. “When I realised they were there, I just started running,” he said, “they kept making me change directions and then I didn’t know where I was, I got so lost,” Harry told him sounding on the verge of tears as he played with the spoon in his stew, remembering vividly how dark it had been, the fear at being chased, wanting nothing more than to go home but being unable to. “I fell but even then I just kept running. I didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to let them catch up to me. But they didn’t stop. They wouldn’t stop. They never stopped and I was just so tired.”
“Oh, Harry,” Lukas said, wanting to take the young pup in his arms and cradle him there but knowing that it wouldn’t be a welcome gesture right now. He could see the tears falling in endless rivets down the teenagers cheeks, clearly lost in thought as he recalled the night, reliving it in his memory. Lukas hated that he had to make Harry go through this but he knew of no other way to help the pup come to terms with what had happened. This was the best way but it still didn’t make it any easier to hear. They couldn’t have Harry living in fear his whole life, if reliving it once helped him to recover then it was something he would have to suffer through.
“The things they said…” Harry said with a shiver of revulsion, remembering their words, how they had called him a bitch and danced around what they were going to do to him, how they would hurt him. “One of them, the Alpha of their group I guess, he wanted to claim me,” he explained. Lukas could see how twitchy Harry was, as though he was fighting the conflicting urges to run away and to be as close to the Alpha as possible. “He told me that there wouldn’t be… wouldn’t be any mistaking who I belonged to when they were done.”
Harry was already trembling, but he knew that the next bit that would be the hardest to relive, his heart already beating faster with knowing what was coming, the fear was filling him again. He was grateful that the older werewolf seemed to be more than willing to let him go at his own pace. Lukas was one of the most patient members of the pack, Harry doubted that anyone else would have been willing to wait for him to be able to find the words and the courage to speak them.
Lukas took a mouthful of the wonderfully hot meal, chewing carefully and swallowing; he was pleased to see Harry do the same, even managing a few pieces of vegetable, if Lukas wasn’t mistaken. What Harry was telling him was disturbing but he was sure there was worse to come and, as much as he didn’t want to push the teenager, he had to know; only then they could begin deal with it. To hear what had happened made the normally calm and collect Lukas want to lash out and hurt something; he didn’t like the idea that anyone had hurt the sweet young boy but he would contain his emotions for Harry’s sake. He highly doubted that flying off the handle was going to help anyone right now.
“Four of them…” Harry said, pulling Lukas from his thoughts, “...pinned me to a tree." The teenager's voice was now so quiet that Lukas almost failed to hear the what was being said as Harry recalled the memory, however he managed to catch every softly whispered word, his hand clenching around his spoon as it took every ounce of his self-control to stay sitting still. “The Alpha of the group, he… he had a knife,” Harry said, sounding determined, and Lukas supposed that it was taking all of the boy’s stubborn nature to get the words out at all.
Lukas remembered seeing the state of the jeans, Harry had been wearing that night; he remembered how torn up they had been and the thin cut that had run the length of Harry’s leg. To think of Harry being pinned to a tree by four werewolves, that were larger and stronger than him, while a fifth wolf threatened and hurt him with a blade... it was too much to think about. One fully grown man would have been enough to overpower the slight teenager let alone five werewolves. Lukas could only imagine how much of a fight the pup had put up against them, he wouldn’t have just given in, not judging by his reaction to Damon and Lukas and how he had lashed out at them.
“One of them said that they would chop off the extra bits that a…” Harry’s voice trembled and broke for a moment, but he closed his eyes for a second, took a deep, calming breath and forced the words past his lips, “...that a bitch like me didn’t need.”
Lukas had to make himself let go of his spoon before he caused himself an injury, he was so furious and shaken by what Harry was telling him. It took everything he had to stay sitting there and listening as the teenager spoke, but he knew it was what Harry needed from him; he was, however, glad that Harry still had his eyes closed and therefore couldn’t see the rage that Lukas was sure was on his face.
“They said that it would hurt,” Harry went on, “that it would be agony.” The pup shuddered, his entire body tensed and one hand still resting over Fenrir’s the warmth from the Alpha’s skin giving him the support he needed to relive the horror. He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to go through with it if he hadn’t been clutching desperately on to the Alpha male. Harry knew how pathetic it was that he was so dependent on an unconscious man but it was something deep inside him that screamed at him not to leave his mate.
“You know we won’t let anyone hurt you like that,” Lukas said and it was a strain to keep his voice even and calm as he spoke. He needed to make it very clear to Harry that they would protect him regardless of what happened to the Alpha. The pack would still be a family, whether Damon remained as Alpha or Jenson took over the role if the unthinkable happened and Fenrir didn’t make it, Harry would still have a place with them, he was one of them now.
The teenager opened his eyes, but looked only at Fenrir as he nodded in acknowledgement before continuing on, “I tried to call out for… Fenrir but the other Alpha, he…” Harry almost gagged at the memory of the filthy hand on him, “...he covered my mouth. I can remember feeling the tip of the knife, I was so scared and all I could think of was being back here. I just wanted to come home,” Harry said as he started crying again, sobs wracking his body as he threaded his fingers with Fenrir’s, clutching at his hand desperately as he silently pleaded with him to wake up. Harry needed him to be okay, the alternative was terrifying.
“Harry,” Lukas said, giving the teenager a soft smile, “you should know that you did amazingly. If you hadn’t managed to call out for Fenrir, then they might not have found you, at least not in time. You did the right thing, shouting out like that,” Lukas assured him.
Honestly it didn’t bear to think, about what would have happened if Harry hadn’t been able to call out to them. They might not have reached him in time; he would have been maimed, almost certainly emotionally damaged beyond all recognition, probably assaulted, raped, and he might not have even survived the night.
Lukas felt sick and was wondered if discussing this over dinner had been such a great idea after all, but, when he looked up at Harry, the teenager was taking another mouthful. It seemed he was doing it simply to avoid thinking about everything, or else, to avoid looking at Lukas; but honestly the reason behind why didn’t really matter. Harry had managed to talk Lukas through his ordeal, and was eating. It was more than they had dared to even hope for that morning.
Lukas and Harry remained silent while they both ate, one absorbing everything that he’d been told and the other simply distracting himself from the vivid memories of the ordeal he had just recounted that still haunted his mind. They were both content with keeping the other company as they carried on enjoying their food.
As they came to the conclusion of their meal together Harry perked up the courage to ask something that he was dying to know the answer to. “Lukas …” He started somewhat tentatively.
Lukas, who had been about to get up and return to the rest of the pack having believed that he had got as far as he could with the pup for the moment, remained sitting still, looking over at Harry with a calm resolve. “Yes,” he said, encouraging the young teen to carry on.
“Will Fen...the Alpha… will he be okay?” Harry asked, struggling to find the words, stalling the question as if he didn’t want to know the answer. Lukas had promised that he wouldn’t lie to him and partly this was a test of that. Harry could see how bad it was, it had been days and the Alpha wasn’t yet awake but he had needed to ask the question just as much as he needed to hear the answer.
Lukas sighed, “I will never lie to you, I promised you that much,” he said making sure to meet Harry’s sad and red rimmed eyes as he spoke. “Until he wakes up we don’t know if he’ll make it through this but he’s healing well and as long as he stays warm, and doesn’t contract any infections, Callie believes he’ll pull through.”
Harry looked to Lukas with a grateful expression. “Thank you for not lying to me,” he said and Lukas gave a small nod, happy that he had done the right thing, even knowing how hard it must be for the pup to hear. “Can… can we be alone now?” Harry asked, in a pleading whisper.
“Of course, little one,” Lukas agreed, getting to his feet and watching as Harry lay back down and curled into Fenrir’s side. “Oh, and Harry,” he said, turning exhausted green eyes back towards him with a look of curiosity, “I’m really proud of you, thank you for letting me in.”
Harry managed a weak smile at that and nodded at Lukas, but clearly he was done talking as his green eyes closed and he snuggled back up against the Alpha. Lacing their fingers together and playing lazily with the exposed blonde chest hair with the fingers of his free hand.
FGHP
It was maybe an hour later, after they had all finished eating. Everyone had gathered around the fire to stay warm as the November evening drew in around them. Romy and Callie had conjured dancing fairy lights to float around the clearing giving it a beautiful, almost romantic glow and lighting the place with the help of the camp fire. The wards and protective enchantments kept the worst of the winter wind and the cold at bay but couldn’t stop it all together. They simply took the edge off the plummeting temperature. The spells and enchantments would also keep the snow away when it came, keeping their clearing habitable over the winter months.
Harry had fallen asleep in his usual position by Fenrir’s side, his full belly doing wonders for allowing him to rest more easily. Damon had ensured that both the Alpha and his mate had enough blankets to keep them warm through the night before leaving them to it. He had taken refuge across the other side of the fire where he’d be able to see them; Micha and Clayton, as usual, snuggled up on either side of him.
Jenson and Callie sat with Romy between them, the youngest of the pack already fast asleep, feeling safe between her adoptive parents, the events of the previous few days having exhausted her. Lukas had placed himself close to Micha and Damon so to share their warmth but he didn’t feel at ease and judging by the tense stance of both Damon and Jenson they weren’t anymore relaxed than he was. Something didn’t feel right, though the others all seemed oblivious.
“Can you smell that?” Jenson asked in a whisper to Damon as a breeze blew across the clearing, carrying a worrying scent along with it. Lukas took a deep breath to figure out what the other two were talking about as Damon nodded.
“Another wolf,” Damon said suppressing a growl and keeping his voice low. Clay and Micha had drifted off next to him and he didn’t want to risk waking them. Jenson had the same concern in regards to Callie.
“What do you want to do?” Lukas asked Damon, they were all aware of how much trouble they were in if the strays were encroaching on their territory. Without Fenrir they weren’t strong enough to fight them all off.
“Do you recognize the scent?” Damon asked Jenson, he would have the best hope of identifying if it was the strays, though they all knew it would be one hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t them or something to do with them.
“No,” Jenson said confidently after taking another deep breath, inhaling the scent, whoever the intruder to their territory was he had never encountered them before, he was sure of that. “But it’s been two years, they could have recruited others since I left them.”
“We need to check it out,” Damon said knowing that none of them would be able to sleep easy until they had found the source of the scent. The problem was he didn’t know who to send. Aside from himself the only viable fighters still left standing were Jenson and Lukas, however if it was a distraction tactic they would need them here. “I’ll take Micha with me,” He said decisively, not liking the idea of putting Micha in harm’s way but feeling slightly more comfortable with it, knowing that he’d be able to keep an eye on him.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Jenson asked sceptically.
“We don’t have much choice, I want you and Lukas here just in case, I can’t risk it being a diversion to separate and weaken us,” Damon explained, “We know there is only one of them out there, one I can handle.”
Jenson, now understanding Damon’s reasoning behind his decision making, nodded. He was glad that he wouldn’t have to leave Callie and Romy again. He had caused them enough worry of late. It was a difficult process in rousing Micha and not Clayton. They didn’t want for any of the others to know what was going on. They had felt enough fear the last few days, it would be better for them to be unaware of the danger this time around. The younger members of the pack needed to rest, they didn’t need to be awake and terrified again right now, they had had enough of that the past few days.
Eventually Micha was awake and Lukas had taken Damon’s place as Clay’s pillow. Fenrir of course remained unmoving, as did Harry, but all of them wishing that the Alpha would wake up and take charge. Damon was terrified that he was making all the wrong choices and that something that he had decided would hurt one of them and that it would be entirely his fault. He couldn’t imagine how Fenrir dealt with this burden all the time, knowing that something he ordered could end up hurting one of his pack, people he deeply cared about.
“Come on, Micha,” Damon said gently. “Stay close to me and stay alert, if you think anything is amiss or you’re unsure of anything let me know, okay?” he instructed and Micha nodded, feeling a little apprehensive about taking off into the forest so late at night. However, he was glad that he was finally being trusted with something as important as this.
Away from the light of the fire and twinkling fairy lights, it was dark and it took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the change in visibility. Their steps were cautious as they made their way through the forest with Damon taking occasional deep sniffs of the air to ensure that they were still heading in the right direction. They were both on high alert with every step they took, not wanting to fall foul of a trap.
“This way,” the acting Alpha instructed, as he led them off in a slightly different direction, scenting out the area as they went. “Blood,” he whispered as they approached the edge of the territory. That was weird, if this wasn’t one of the werewolves that had been involved in the incident with Harry, then had the strays attacked this unknown person too? Damon wasn’t about to make any assumptions. His mind played over every possibility as they neared the source of the scent.
Micha inhaled too, and at the closer distance he could smell what Damon was talking about, the metallic smell of blood clinging to his nostrils and making him increasingly anxious. Micha was surprised at just how quickly being out in the forest at night with the smell of blood lingering in the air, took him back to the fight with the strays. It wasn’t even a conscious decision when he reached out and grabbed for Damon’s hand, in a silent and instinctive plea for protection and not to be left alone.
Upon realising what he had done Micha tried to take his hand away but found this impossible because Damon was grasping on to him so tightly. They gave each other a brief look as a sign of acceptance of this gesture and they kept going, remaining overly cautious as the scent of blood became heavier on the cold air.
“If whoever it is, is outside the boundaries of our territory they aren’t our problem,” Damon said quietly, preparing Micha for the possibility that if there was an injured werewolf outside of their territory they would just leave them to die rather than help. It was a harsh choice to make but Damon had to protect the pack and they couldn’t risk their lives on a whim right now.
However it didn’t come to that in the end. The source of the scent and the blood was a man with light brown hair and who appeared to be fairly young and beneath the blood and bruises probably quite attractive too. It appeared as if he had been rolled or thrown into their territory after being beaten which Damon found highly suspicious. He couldn’t however just leave him within their boundaries like this despite not trusting him at all. He was tempted to throw him out of their territory and never think of it again, he thought that maybe that might have been what Fenrir would have done but he wasn’t Fenrir.
Damon was overly aware of Micha by his side, still clasping desperately to his side and he knew that if he disregarded the injured man without second thought then Micha wouldn’t understand, might hate him for it. After all this was exactly the same way that Micha had come to be in the pack. Damon was suddenly regretting his choice of companion in this, thinking it would have been much simpler decision to make with Jenson or Lukas with him instead, even Clay would have been more understanding than Micha.
“What do we do?” Micha asked, half hiding behind Damon, as he peered at the unknown werewolf with fascination.
The acting Alpha didn’t believe in coincidences. It seemed more than a little odd to suddenly have an injured wolf literally dumped on their doorstep. Damon released his tight hold on Micha’s hand to kneel down and inspect the strange wolf. Surveying the injuries and quickly came to the conclusion that aside from a knock to the head, which had rendered him out for the count, the injuries were all fairly superficial, which only mounted the suspicion against him.
"We’ll have to take him back with us,” Damon said, not happy about the situation, but knowing that it was the right thing to do, at least in Micha’s eyes. “We put him somewhere secure and wait for him to wake up.”
“Secure?” Micha queried, trying to figure where the acting Alpha might consider ‘secure’ in their territory or what he might mean by that. “You’re going to help him though, right?”
"He’ll live without much in the way of help,” Damon said bluntly, bending down and lifting the injured stranger into his arms, carrying him back in the direction of the clearing, Micha hurrying along behind him not wanting to be too far from his protector. Damon really wished Fenrir would wake up already because then it wouldn’t be his decisions that put everyone else in danger.
His instincts told him not to trust this strange wolf who had magically appeared in their territory, injured but not badly so. After what the strays had done to Harry it seemed unlikely that they would superficially hurt anyone. They were brutal and sadistic, this just wasn’t their style, not unless they had wanted the man to live. Damon was going to have to keep a very close watch on this wolf that was for sure.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to leave a comment and tell us your thoughts (even if it is just to tell us that you hate us because Fenrir isn't awake yet). Though the good news is you have only five days to wait until the next update. There will be five days between updates on the run up to Christmas so that when Chapter 24 - Christmas with the Pack is posted it'll be the 25th December.
Consider it BickyMonster and my Christmas present to all our wonderful and loyal readers that always review every chapter (you know who you are)! Your reviews and comments really do make our day.
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