Chapter 3

The knocks on the door were heavy and staccato, causing her to set her book aside as she stood to go answer it. Anthony and Fenrir were in the other room talking and she didn't want to disturb them. She also halfway felt that it was best for her to keep her distance from Fenrir, at least while Scabior was around. She could see that he didn't like her around him, but she felt that he didn't understand that it was her job to be with Fenrir. She could only help him by being there with him and for him. It wasn't like she was going to leave him just because Fenrir had feelings for her. She knew that no matter what, she still loved her husband, and the slight feelings she did have for Fenrir were nowhere near as strong as the way she felt about Scabior.

She knew Scabior considered Fenrir as a threat to their marriage, that he was going to convince her that he was the better man. But in her eyes, Scabior still was the better man. He was there for her in her darkest hours, supporting her and loving her. He was a person she could confide in, a person she didn't have to hide anything from. She loved him so much when they first started dating and those feelings are still there, but what puzzled her was what had changed between them.

Lately, her husband seemed uninterested in her. He wouldn't really talk to her as much and if he did, the conversation was superficial, lacking the depth it once had. Then again, he did work long hours at Gringotts and was never home until later in the evenings. He was barely there, and she had to admit, with being an auror, she wasn't home much herself until Fenrir was released.

Had their adult lives changed them that much? Had they became people they didn't want to be? She wasn't sure. She opened the door.

"Hey, Sira," Lark Blackwood said as he gave her a little, uneasy smile. "I came to see how Fenrir is doing. I hope Anthony told you that I would be stopping by today."

"Yes, he did," she replied as she returned the smile. "I'll show you where they are." He stepped into the house and she closed the door behind him.

"Sira, I first need to know your honest opinion," he whispered quickly as he looked her directly in the eyes, "do you think that this is working?"

"I think so," she stated with a nod. "He's responding well and is getting used to this new life. He seemed overwhelmed at first, but he seems like he's settling in."

"Good." Sira nodded once again in agreement and lead him to the other room. Fenrir and Anthony looked at them as they walked into the room, ending their conversation. "It's good to see you again, Fenrir," Lark said as he took a seat across from them. "How have you been doing so far?"

"I've been fine, really," Fenrir replied kindly. "It's taken a little bit of time to get used to everything, but I think I'm finally starting to get used to this. Everything is just so new, and there is a lot that I still need to learn."

"No urges to kill anyone?" Lark asked, a bit rudely, causing Sira to look down and Fenrir's jaw to tighten. No matter how many times they would talk, no matter how drastically his disposition would change, Lark would always ask him these kinds of questions.

"No," Fenrir stated with a tight jaw.

"Great." Lark looked at Sira. "The Ministry is wanting a progress report by the end of the week. We'll need to get together sometime to work on it."

"I'm available whenever you are, just tell me when you want me to come and work on it with you." Lark nodded to her comment and left the room, a few seconds later, the sound of the front door opening and closing came into the room. Fenrir stood up, noticeably aggravated, and slammed his hand hard against the wall.

"Why does he always ask that?" he barked snappily, his rage glinting in his yellow eyes. Sira looked at him and shrugged, knowing that she had to allow him time to calm himself down.

"He just doesn't believe that you can change, Fenrir," she explained, "and many people don't believe that either. Don't listen to him and don't let the questions he asks you bother you. He's trying to get you angry, he's trying to get you to do something wrong, so he can just lock you up again and not have to deal with you. He doesn't know what it's like. He doesn't know what it's like to be on the other side of the cell door."

"Well, I guess it worked because I'm pissed. I'm sick and tired of dealing with his bullshit." He took his hand off the wall as he continued to look at her. Anthony wasn't surprised that his father could get this angry but he wasn't expecting the amount of anger he could suddenly have. It was just like turning a light switch on and off. Instantaneous.

But the anger in Fenrir's eyes didn't seem to go away.

"Fenrir," his mother said calmly, "can I talk to you in private?" He nodded with anger still in his eyes as she walked out of the room and into the hallway. He followed her closely as she opened up the front door and stepped outside. He closed the door behind them as she walked out onto the front law, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. He was still irritated, but he was more curious now than anything else. What in the world is she doing? he asked himself. She turned to face him as he stepped off of the front porch. "Attack me," she said, looking him dead in the eyes as her face turned emotionless. "Go on, attack me."

"I can't," he said, the rage he felt towards Lark still in his eyes.

"Attack me!" she shouted at him, a spark of fury shinning in hers.

"No, Sira, I won't!" With his answer, she put her chin up a little higher, making her look more pompous.

"Is that so?" she questioned as a puzzled look covered his face. She spun around and took off at a sprint to the woods beside the house.

"Hey!" he shouted after her, breaking out into a run. She didn't stop as she broke through the tree line, racing through the underbrush. Nothing seemed to slow her down, not the fallen logs, not the brambles, nothing. She just kept going and he was having trouble keeping up.

A smile formed on her lips as she skipped over a shallow stream and glanced behind her, taunting him to go faster. He did so and her smile turned into a grin. They continued to run as he started to catch up to her. He was only a few feet behind her and he reached for her wrist. His breathing was hard and he didn't know if he could run any longer. He felt like he was about to collapse. He urged himself forward and caught her wrist, pulling both of them to a stop.

He dropped to the ground and laid there, face down in the grass as she knelt down beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. It felt like he would never be able to. "Are you okay?" she asked gently, her smile no longer on her lips.

"Yeah," he mumbled, panting. She rubbed his shoulder gently as he closed his eyes. His heart felt like it wanted to jump out of his chest and his muscles felt like rubber, but as he was able to breathe again, a rush came over him. He felt great. He felt alive. He felt that nothing bad could even happen.

It was a wonderful feeling.

Slowly, he sat up and looked at her. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright. Brighter than what he had seen them in years. She, too, seemed alive. A snapshot of her old self. The woman he had fallen in love with. "How are you feeling?" she questioned, a small smile forming on her lips as she spoke.

"I'm feeling great." He couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. Or that his hands went up and touched her face, drawing her closer to him. As soon as he did so, her smile disappeared and conflict entered her eyes. He just needed her near him, to hold her close.

"Fenrir, I can't," she stated quickly as she moved away from him. "It's not right. I'd be betraying my husband and I can't do that." He sighed as he looked down at the ground, wishing that she wouldn't be so blind.

"You can't see what he's done to you, and what you've done to yourself. You don't understand how the impact your career and your husband have changed who you are as a person. There is no war in this day and age, Sira, but you still act like it's going on. Your calculated moves are that of a general's and your risks are measured and if they don't play in your favor, you don't take them. Because of this, you built a wall around yourself, allowing only what you want others to see to be shown. You don't understand yourself," he explained, "but I do. I essentially did the same thing as you, except in a more violent way. I hid away my humanity for savagery and it took years and a lot of time to be comfortable with my humanity again. It took someone who cared about me to get it back. It took you.

"Why can't you see that I'm trying to help you like you helped me? All I want is for you to be yourself again, and not have to worry that someone won't like you because of what you did in the past." She looked down at the grass, never looking up at him. "I understand how you feel, I understand that you're not as happy with your life as you thought you would be. I just want to help you be happy again."

She didn't say a word, she just kept looking at the grass. He could see that her mind was racing, like she didn't want him to be right. He felt like he was, and he hoped she would understand. He wasn't asking her to leave the life she had to be with him, even though he wished she would, he just wanted her to be happy with the life she did have and not have to worry so much. She looked up at him and was about to say something.

A scream cut through the forest, chilling them both.

They stood instantly and Sira drew her wand. They headed towards the scream, breaking out into a run. As they drew closer, the scream faded, but they could soon see people in a clearing just a few yards away. Most of them were men, but a few were women, all looking to be in their mid-twenties. One of them, a woman, was on the ground, bruises blooming on her skin and blood coming out from her wounds.

One of the men stood over her, laughing cruelly as he bent down and dragged her to her feet. His face was right in hers, even though he was much taller than she was. "This is what you get," he stated evilly. "You shouldn't have went against the pack." His lips curled up into a snarling grin as Sira stepped into the clearing, her wand steadied on him.

"That's enough," she ordered, "Let her go."

The man looked at her, smirking. "Why in the hell would I do that? This is none of your business, even if you are an auror. Magical Law doesn't count within the pack so run along before something bad happens to you." He let out a chuckle. "Wouldn't want the wizards to hear that one of their own was killed by a werewolf… or worse." Fenrir stepped out of the woods behind her and calmly stood beside her, looking at the man.

"Listen to her, Kael," he said evenly. "Let her go." Kael automatically let her go, as the eyes of all of the people in the clearing widened with their disbelief. Kael's smile turned less evil and more welcoming as he approached them.

"I heard rumors but I didn't believe them to be true. You're out of Azkaban." Sira kept her wand aimed at him, not trusting his sudden shift from vehemence to serenity. The injured woman lay on the ground, barely moving. Sira hoped that nothing else would happen to her. "Will you be reclaiming alpha soon?" Kael asked and she noticed a flicker of disgust in his eye. He must have been acting as the leader of the pack while Fenrir was incarcerated.

"Yes I will," he replied, straightening his stance and making Kael seem like a child in his presence. "First, there are things that must be taken care of before I return completely, which will take some time."

"Of course," Kael agreed, just before looking at Sira, as the glint of disgust turned into arrogance. "Sira Volkov, my, you're as pretty as they as you are. Fenrir is lucky to have a mate like you in his life."

"She's not my mate," Fenrir corrected before Sira could say anything, which caused Kael's eyes to lighten up.

"Is that so?" His brown eyes looked into her eyes. "Well that's most unfortunate indeed." He smiled his cruel, little, cocky smile and Sira felt the urge to punch him in the face, a feeling she hadn't had about a person in a long time. She didn't like him. Every fiber of her being told her so. "You're still an auror, Sira. Am I correct?"

"I've been one for over eighteen years, Kael," she stated. "Nothing will change that." Her comment caused his smile to widen into a grin.

"What's it like to be the law's bitch? I bet it would be absolutely awful. Always having to follow rules, losing yourself to some non-living thing that doesn't even exist, and even worse, believing in that theory." He shook his head. "Must be a hard life to live indeed."

"That's enough, Kael," Fenrir said in a bit of a snarl, causing Kael to take a few steps back from her. "Sira and I have more important matters to attend to than you interrogating her about working as an auror. Good day." Fenrir took Sira by the wrist and lead her back into the woods. She looked into his eyes. There was concern in them, like a fear that the situation was worse than he had expected. Once they were a good distance away, he stopped and looked at her. "Sira, I'm afraid I can't get through to the pack without your help."

She nodded in agreement, knowing that he would probably ask her this. "You don't have to go back to them, you know," she stated, just putting that option out there to be considered.

"I fear that by not helping them, they will become more dangerous than what I left them as. I was the one who made them the way they are. I am the reason they hold so much hate towards the wizards. I should be the one that rights this wrong."

"Okay," she agreed hesitantly, "I'll help you, but I have to ask the Ministry to make sure that it's alright. If I do this, they'll be short an auror for quite a while." Truthfully, she was glad she could help Fenrir, but she didn't want to. All she kept thinking about was how Kael sadistically looked at her. He gave her the chills, reminding her of how she felt when she first met Lord Voldemort. She knew he was pure evil.

He knew he shouldn't have come here, but he just had to keep coming back. He needed to feel whole, like his life had a purpose.

That his wife wasn't more devoted to her morals than to him.

He should have discussed his feelings with her a long time ago, but instead, he just tried to cover them up while he was around her, and then be the man he felt he should be somewhere else. He loved his wife, but sometimes love just wasn't enough for him. That's why for the last five years, he'd been coming here.

He knocked on the door and it soon opened, revealing a woman with black hair and blue eyes. She grinned when her eyes met his. "Well, hello," she said in a sultry voice. "I must be a special person this week." She ushered him into the house and closed the door behind him. "What can I do for you today? Looking for a quick pick-me-up?" she asked as she came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders, running her lips down the side of his neck as she smiled.

"No, I just need to talk today," he said. She motioned him to the sofa and he took and seat. She sat down next to him, and she started to rub his chest again.

"What do you need to talk about? The wife not giving you what you need?" she questioned.

"No, it's not that," he replied with a sigh. "She's been spending all of her time with Greyback and she hasn't been home much at all. I fear that our marriage is going to fall apart."

"And it wouldn't if she found out about some of the things we do?" she asked. "Look, Scabior, you and I both know that your fragile marriage can't withstand a scandal like this. I told you multiple times. I've even kicked you out but you keep coming back because your wife would rather be working than be sleeping with you. Face it, you don't want her like you used to. And once she finds out that you're been coming and seeing me, your marriage is over. Those morals won't allow for a cheater in her house, especially one that having been dishonest to her and her marriage for a half of a decade."

"I don't want to lose her," he admitted.

"Then stop coming here," she said as she stood up. "Leave. Before I force you out." She pointed to the door and he sighed, standing up and walking to the door. He opened it and walked out of the house, into the cold, autumn night.

"Hey, you said you wanted to speak with me?" Anthony asked his father, which his father nodded in reply.

"Let's take a walk," he said. "I think some air would be good for both of us." Anthony opened the front door for his father and they both went out into the night. After stepping off of the porch, they walked down the lane that headed towards the house, back to the main road. "I'm not sure if your mother told you this or not, but today, we met my old pack accidently and I told them that sometime soon I will reclaiming my place as alpha. But the problem is I'm concerned about the severity of the behavior my pack has been showing towards each other and their dislike of the wizards. I asked your mom if she would help me with helping the pack, and she agreed to as long as the Ministry would approve her working with the pack and I.

"Also, I wanted to offer you something, Anthony. I've enjoyed getting to know you and being able to call you my son and I would like to be able to get to know you even more. You don't have to decide on this right now but, if you'd like, you can come live with me for a while. You don't have to associate yourself with the pack or anything of that sort. You don't even have to be a werewolf. And you can come and go as you please. I just would like to be able to spend more time with you, and I don't think I will be able to do that as much when I go back to my pack."

Anthony walked with his father in silence, trying to think this offer through. He came up with more questions and concerns than anything else. He didn't even really know what to even think of this. He wanted to be closer to his father but he didn't know if going into the pack was a good idea for him, werewolf or not. Wouldn't it mess up some of his plans? Wouldn't it strain his relationship with Burgundy? But then again, it wouldn't be permanent. He could come and go as he pleased. The idea of learning and this new, small adventure excited him, but it didn't ease his mind.

"I feel that I rarely give you a straight answer," Anthony replied with a warm smile on his face and conflict in his yellow eyes, "but is it okay if I think about it? I want to spend more time with you too, but I'm just not sure how it will all work out. Is it safe for a wizard to spend time in a pack that hates them? That's one of my main concerns."

His father smirked and chuckled lightly. "You and your mother, you're both so analytical. I don't think it would be safe for other wizards to spend to time with the pack, but you're not like the other wizards. Werewolf or not, you're my son, and the pack will respect that. And if not, they'll have to answer to me."

"Okay," he replied. "That makes me feel a bit better."

"You don't have to decide tonight, Anthony. I can wait. It's not like I'm leaving for the pack tomorrow. In a few days' time, yes, but tomorrow, no. I just wanted to ask you before I had to go." Anthony nodded, causing his father to smile as they turned around and walked back towards the house.

"Burgundy wants me to go see her tomorrow, before bring her back here to meet you," Anthony stated as he remember that he needed to tell his father that. Sometimes, things would just slip his mind until it was absolutely necessary for them to be told. He guessed that it was a bit of a curse that went along with having an overactive mind.

"I'm surprised Lark is even allowing her to come over with me around," Fenrir stated with a small, rough laugh and a huge smile.

"He's not," Anthony admitted. "Cal is letting her come. Lark said that he'll throw me in Azkaban if he finds out that she did come and meet you."

"By the way you say that, it seems that you get that threat a lot."

"I do, but it's not as startling after the hundredth time," Anthony replied jokingly with a smirk. His father laughed loudly and he couldn't resist laughing along with him. That's the thing he enjoyed the most about his father, that no matter what, they could laugh about life. It was one of the things that he loved most about his father.

They climbed the stairs up to the porch as Anthony began to realize something. This man was more like him than he had ever known. He was no longer a stranger in his eyes, or a name without a face. He was a person. He was real. He was his father.

Nothing could ever change that.

Fenrir opened the door and was about to walk into the house, when Anthony suddenly felt like a child again. "Hey, dad," he said warmly, causing Fenrir to turn around and look at him. He looked stunned, surprised that his son had called him 'dad.' He never thought that he would ever be able to do that.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," Anthony admitted, looking at him with his realization in his eyes. Fenrir smiled as his eyes lit up with joy.

"I love you too, son."