Just a quick THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. Thank you beautifuls! :)


-CHAPTER FOUR: Help Me Please?-


"– can't believe you brought home a pup." An incredulous feminine voice was saying.

"It's not like you to do a hunter a favour." Rumbled a male and shifting could be heard as though someone was coming closer to the bedside.

"Not just any hunter, Elvy – James Potter. He killed off Wolfe's entire pack a few years back." Another male's voice.

Harry could hear the voices that surrounded him but couldn't make a move to show them they were being overheard. His belly ached and felt tight and his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. The mattress he was resting on was hard and lumpy and the strong smell of wet leaves and undergrowth assailed his nose. A large but gentle hand cupped his cheek and Harry quelled his flinch.

"He's just a puppy, Fenrir, and a submissive, how are we going to look after him? We already have a submissive." It was the same woman's voice, however, this time her tone was soft and cooed at Harry. Harry shifted on the bed and winced at the sharp stab that pained through his gut at the action. Immediately the warm hand on his face slid downward and pushed at his shoulder, holding him still. "Don't move little one, it will only aggravate your injury." Harry opened his eyes and looked straight into azure coloured eyes, they were large and friendly. The woman smiled and her sandy hair fell about her face. Her skin was lined slightly with age.

"Where," Harry's voice croaked and he licked his lips, "where am I?" he inquired softly, blinking his gritty eyes. His tongue felt heavy and the lingering taste of blood settled on his teeth. The emotions and memories of what happened slapped Harry like a wall of wind and he blanched. The woman let go of his shoulder and brushed back his bangs tenderly, it was such a motherly action and it brought back images of his mum lying frozen, lifeless, dead on the floor of her home. Pushing the silky hair away from the boy's sweating forehead the woman tsked when it bounced back into Harry's eyes.

"You're in Wolf-Cove forest, on the out skirts of Middleton. How are you feeling?" Harry ignored the question and instead tried to sit up. His stomach cramped and his arms wobbled underneath him but he managed it. It was only once he was sitting, rather inelegantly, that he noticed the other occupants of the room. With wide eyes Harry's gaze skipped from each person in turn.

A stumpy, short man stood closest to Harry, his chubby tummy protruding nakedly. He wore only a pair of slacks, which looked to have seen better days. His hair was straight and stuck to his head, the light flaxen blending in with the man's pale skin. He gave Harry a grin when he noticed the boy's attention on him, and sharp, white canines flashed in the dim light.

Another man stood a few feet away by the doorway, his wild, shaggy hair was pure white and brushed his shoulders. Harry was surprised to see the man's muscular form; he was almost as big a Fenrir. He was young, probably around his mid thirties. Finally Harry's eyes landed on the last occupant. Fenrir. Harry's breathing became ragged at the sight of the broad shoulders and glowing ocher eyes that were locked directly at him. Harry had the startling impulse to lower his gaze, he didn't and Fenrir flashed his teeth threateningly.

"Eye's down, pup." He snapped quietly and Harry made short work of fixing his attention back to the woman by his bedside. She gave him a small smile, a gesture Harry couldn't manage to return. He felt empty and alone and his body ached with misery. He wanted to cry and break down, to rage and scream – he couldn't. His entire body just felt numb, like it had been plunged into ice-cold water. Closing his eyes tightly Harry focused on keeping his breathing steady, he would not cry. Not in front of complete strangers.

"This is Elvy, the Omega." Harry peeked up at the deep voice of Fenrir, he was pointing toward the chubby, short man and Harry watched as Elvy smiled at him once again, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. Harry didn't know what it was about the man, but something set him on edge and he grimaced, trying a smile that wouldn't come. "This here is Moior. He is the Beta of the pack. My second, if you need something and I'm not nearby go to him."

Omega?Beta?Harry's head was beginning to ache with confusion.

"Alright, pup?" asked the man and nodded at Harry, his white hair framed his solid jaw line. Harry swallowed and tried for some words.

"Yeah," he managed in a rasping voice; Moior flashed a grin at the newest pack member. His powder blue eyes were kind and Harry felt relaxed in his presence despite his foreboding form and large shoulders.

Fenrir cleared his throat and the attention of the occupants snapped back to him with surprising speed, "lastly the woman next to you is –"

"Cace, pack member and surrogate mother to this lot," she sent Harry a rakish wink and pointed her thumb at the three men. Harry gave her a tiny smile that barely lifted the corners of his lips. She returned it fully and ruffled his hair. "Cute little thing aren't you?" she said casually.

"Cute as he is, Cace, we really must let him settle in to his new surroundings. We will bring you some food later, pup." Moior said and gently dragged the smiling Cace away from Harry's bed.

Harry frowned, "I'm not hungry."

Fenrir stopped at the doorway, ushering out Elvy as he did so, "your human side isn't, but your wolf is. It needs food to survive the next full moon." Harry gnashed his teeth and hummed angrily in his throat, glaring at the tall man. He hated being this creature – now that he knew what he was he saw the signs as plain as day. His obsession with meat, his sense of acute hearing and his eye sight was getting clearer, normally he wore contact lenses. He didn't want to be a damned werewolf. It was the reason his parents were dead.

"Don't be foolish boy, eat what we give you." Growled Fenrir with a flash of his teeth and then he left the room, he let the door bash shut with a loud ricochet, leaving Harry alone in an unfamiliar room with nothing but his terrible thoughts and memories to occupy him.

He wished they would all stop calling him pup and stop going on about Omega's and Beta's and bloody fucking confusing things. He just wanted to close his eyes and wake up out of this nightmare. Wake up and have his mum and dad back and not lying cold in their home. Dead. They were dead, forever gone.

Burying his face in his hands Harry gave a shout of frustration. Surely the other werewolves would hear him screaming, he didn't give a fuck however and continued to yell into his palms, his breath and tears warm against his skin.

"Fucking HELL!" his throat hurt, his stomach hurt, his head hurt – everything hurt. Especially his emotions, they were raw and broken. He didn't think he could ever feel better. It wasn't possible when he had lost his whole world within a few short hours. It was all taken on him. He would never get to watch his mother garden and talk about the different varieties of tomatoes. He would never get to roughhouse with his father. He was left here, and they were somewhere out of his reach. In a place he longed to be.

Wiping at his wet cheeks and dripping nose Harry sat up straighter, promising silently that he would be with his parent's shortly. Life was pointless without his family.


The room was small and relatively cozy. A simple single bed was against the wall and a wooden desk that had random books scattered on its surface was in the corner. A thick shaggy rug that was just as soft as it looked covered most of the floor, which was solid concrete. Harry sat on the creaky bed, his eyes rimmed red from crying and his skin flushed with emotions that coiled in his tummy and chest.

Watching the stars outside the square window of the room, Harry sighed, the night was dark despite the sky being clear and scattered with thousand of pinprick stars that winked and shone brightly. Harry could just make out the small half-moon that was cradled in the dark abyss, somewhere deep inside of him his wolf was purring and keening at the sight. He ignored that part of him and stubbornly turned away from the sight.

It had been a few hours since the pack had left him alone. Harry hadn't moved an inch and his legs ached with the need to stretch. He ignored his body and retreated further into his thoughts. He had stopped crying after the first two hours, running out of tears and strength to keep it up. His eyes now burnt and felt gritty and sleepy. He wouldn't sleep however. Swallowing thickly when the scent of meat hit his senses Harry shut his tired eyes. Crying always made him lethargic. Whenever he was little his mother would always rock him in her arms until he had cried himself out and fallen asleep. Now she couldn't do that. Ever.

A knock at the door made the boy look up, his hair falling into his face, the heavy wooden door opened a second later and Moior poked his head inside. "I brought you food." He said unnecessarily and swept his eyes over the huddled form of Harry. Harry looked away and fiddled with his jeans. "It's steak and potatoes. I hope that's alright." The older werewolf placed the plate on the mattress, next to Harry's knee.

"I'm not hungry." Said Harry stoically, he didn't bother to look at the man. He didn't have the energy.

Moior shifted and then awkwardly placed his hand on Harry's small shoulder; the touch was so gentle Harry thought perhaps the werewolf thought he would break Harry. "Listen, pup –"

Harry's eyes narrowed and he snapped, "Don't call me that. It's Harry – I have a name." If Moior was startled by the outburst he hid it well. Dropping his hand from Harry's shoulder he sighed.

"I'm dominate over you, I'm far older – therefore I will call you pup. Is that understood?" his voice wasn't unkind; however, it was low and held an underlining forewarning. Harry shrugged and turned his face away. Callous fingers gripped his chin and tugged his head back. Moior looked at Harry with a frown on his lips.

"You are in our pack now, there's nothing you can do to change what has happened. I know you went through traumatic events today. You will have time to grieve, just don't put your own life at risk while doing so. Do you want your parent's death to be in vain? They died to protect you."

"They died because of me you bastard –" Moior slapped Harry's jaw lightly, but it was enough to stop the boy's words. Blue eyes flushed with amber as the man merged with his wolf. Harry would have been unnerved if he hadn't been so numb and apathetic.

Moior let go of Harry's chin and took a step back, "don't speak down to me, pup. Stop being so self-involved, you're not the only one who has had it tough." He snapped sharply and walked swiftly from the room.

Harry glared at the closed door and bit his tongue to keep his curse words in his mouth and not out loud. Making an incomprehensible noise in the back of his throat Harry swiped the plate off the bed, watching in satisfaction as the plate cracked in two and the contents of the plate spilled onto the rug. His belly growled a moment later but he refused to eat off the floor. Flopping down onto his back and wincing at the sharp throb from his wound Harry cursed softly under his breath.


Moior was worried. The newest pack member was a feisty little creature but he could smell the depression surrounding the pup. It was thick in Harry's room and disturbed the older werewolf.

The half-moon shone its beauty down on the court yard Moior was striding through. The paved quarter was large and open to the nights unpleasantly cold air. It was nearing winter and the scent of rain was lingering in each breath of wind. Leaves and small twigs were kicked up by a forceful gush of air and scattered about his feet. "Fenrir," said Moior when he came across his Alpha standing in the archway leading to the eatery, "I've given the pup his food." His dominate nodded briskly.

"Did he eat it?"

"I don't know," uncertainty laced his reply and he quelled the urge to bite his lip, "he isn't dealing too well with what has happened." Moior decided to be honest. No doubt Fenrir could smell the scent of depression as well; he had keen senses like the rest of them.

Fenrir snarled in his throat and Moior took a step backwards, the Alpha turned and his eyes were fully amber, what little of the moon that was showing was having an effect on him. It always did after a few days past the full-moon. "He's weak. He needs to grow up and accept the fact that bad things happen. He's doing nothing good for his health or the health of his wolf." Crossing his arms across his chest the Alpha huffed a breath, it fogged in the cooling air.

"He's still young, Fenrir, you have to understand that. The memories of what happened are very fresh, you know better then anyone how difficult it is for newly turned werewolves to accept themselves. He needs space." If it was anyone else in the pack Fenrir would have had them on their back, neck arched and pleading in submission. Moior was different. He had known the large man since childhood. He could get away with a lot more then the others.

Fenrir clenched his jaw and it pulsed, "what he needs is a good cuff around the ear. He needs to be looking out for his wolf or come the next full-moon he won't live past the transformation." Moior knew Fenrir well enough to know the man wasn't as irate as he made out to be. Fenrir was a good leader and a splendid Alpha; he watched over his pack with careful eyes and always made sure the members were happy and healthy. Just because Harry was a new pack member didn't mean he was going to be overlooked.

"I want you to inform the others to meet me in the eatery. I should explain the circumstances in detail." Before Moior had a chance to reply his Alpha had swept through the double doors and down the steps leading to the large eatery. It was designed for a pack of over forty members, as it was Fenrir only had four members, five including the puppy. Turning on his heel the tall man took off to round up his pack mates, his snow white hair danced dissonantly over his forehead and he sniffed the air. Something was off. He could feel it.


"As you are all aware we now have a new werewolf in the pack," Fenrir said and looked down the large table at his horde. They nodded and he continued, "the circumstances are a bit more complicated then me just taking in a turned werewolf," Elvy shifted in his seat and Fenrir held up his hand, stopping the man's words before they came. "Yes, I did do James Potter a favor, however it is for the simple reason that Harry was turned by Wolfe."

Mutters tittered about the table and Fenrir allowed his pack to share worried glances, "it's bad enough he's the son of a hunter, Fenrir, but the sired pup of Wolfe? Do you know how dangerous this is? If Wolfe finds out, and no doubt he will, our entire pack will be in jeopardy." It was Cace who spoke up and her azure eyes flashed with unease, Fenrir didn't scold her for talking out of turn, he couldn't be bothered, not when he felt the same way.

Resting his forearms heavily on the wooden surface of the table he kept his gaze steady, he wouldn't show his trepidation to his pack. "It is believed that Wolfe is many years old and that when his desired submissive is found he will rise above all to take leadership of the werewolf community," the story was a well known tale that all werewolves had heard as pups. Wolfe had once ruled over the werewolves and his tactics were considered sadistic and pitiless. "If he gets his hands on Harry, we can all kiss our freedom goodbye."

A slender, lofty girl shifted next to Cace, dark brunette hair spilled over his shoulders as she leaned forward. She was the submissive of the pack, turned by Cace when the older woman had been younger and less experienced at controlling her wolf side. "Our pack already has a submissive; we can't afford to have another one. He will only be in the way." She said petulantly. Cace rested her hand on the girl's wrist.

"Be quiet, Cyn." She hushed under her breath. "Fenrir knows what he is doing. We can't let Wolfe get to the pup, or all hell breaks loose and we are subjected to a pitiful, tortured life." The older woman made a face when Cyn pulled her wrist away and pouted.

"I'm the submissive," she exclaimed and flicked her thick fringe out of her dark eyes, "I don't want another submissive in this pack." Fenrir growled at the girl and she dropped her eyes to the tabletop, her shoulders were hunched in deference.

"Don't be selfish, Cyn," said Fenrir and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, the silver-blond tresses ruffled slightly, sometimes the girl's self-centered attitude threatened to undo his self control, "Harry is in the pack now, he will be treated as such and I will not listen to you snivel and whine about it. The circumstances are austere and we are treading on thin ice here, so shut up and be a good submissive and let the adults handle it." Cyn jerked back into her seat as if she had been physically hit. Her lips trembled and she muttered out an apology.

"What are we going to do with him? Claim him? He doesn't smell like any of us, he smells of blood and depression and Wolfe." Elvy had his chin resting on his knuckles and his lips twisted with disgust. He posed a tricky question. Normally Fenrir would claim his pack members, either by pissing on them when he was in his wolf form or by giving them a nip to their necks, a physical mark that would be noticed by any adversary packs. Wolf-Cove was secluded and out of the way, in the few years Fenrir and his small pack had lived here they had never run into any other werewolves. Wolfe's arrival was somewhat disconcerting and Fenrir felt the need to reclaim all of his pack, just to be safe.

"I'll deal with it," he promised the round man with a grin, he was sure Harry would fight him with whatever option he decided on. But that was the fun part. He rarely dominated over Cyn; she was well-behaved in spite of her self-seeking ways. As far as a submissive went she was relatively standard. Tall and waif like with average features. Fenrir found Harry much more interesting. He was very unusual with his emerald eyes and messy black hair, not to mention his tiny physique. Fenrir could sense the fight in the boy and knew he would have to work hard to make Harry submit to him.

"So, let me get this straight," Elvy said quietly, narrowing his eyes as he thought over the conversation. "In short, we are in possession of Wolfe's desired sub and hold the power to either save the werewolf community or destroy it? Harry is a submissive, despite seeming otherwise in attitude and he is going to be in our pack, even though none of us sired him and we already have a submissive?" Cyn sniffed at the last bit and lifted her chin. Fenrir scowled at her.

"Correct," he said in reply, "if any one has a problem with that they will be dealing directly with me. Understood?" A chorus of 'yes' rang out and Fenrir nodded his satisfaction. Making to get to his feet he froze, lifting his head he sniffed at the air. It smelt of roiling emotions and immediately he was on guard. Harry had left his room.

"It's Harry," Moior said and stood to his feet, the other pack members did the same and sniffed the air. The scent was getting fainter. "He's running –" Moior didn't need to finish the sentence for Fenrir and Cace had both took off up the stairs. The white haired man shared a look with Elvy before he too followed the Alpha, the Omega was on his heels at once.

"Hey! What about me?" Cyn shouted and stomped her bare foot against the floor, she got no answer and sulkily followed the procession of werewolves. "Show you to ignore me…" she mumbled sulkily. She was use to being the center of attention and the new pup was stealing her limelight.


Cold, wet specks of rain lashed at the running werewolves, dampening their hair and skin with bitter drizzle. The night sky was blanketed with a shield of fleecy clouds, blocking out the moonlight and stars. Fenrir hurried toward the scent of his new submissive. It was difficult to follow a scent when rain threatened to wash it away however he managed to trace it as far as the large lake. The lake was at the center of his large estate and stretched expansively, surrounded by green grass that was long and knee-high. The scent was lost quickly and Fenrir bared his teeth in frustration.

"It's gone," Elvy stated breathlessly, tugging at his short blond hair. "It can't have just vanished." He exclaimed out loud to no one in particular. Cace was looking around with gaping lips as she took in large amounts of air.

Moior was sniffing at the grass, running his palm against the yielding plant. "He was here a few minutes ago." Fenrir nodded, the pups scent was still around, present in the swaying grass. To have disappeared so suddenly the boy would have he to smother his smell, either with another scent or…by…jumping…in –

"The lake!" yelled Cace, her eyes wide as she watched something a distance away, "he's in the lake, Fenrir!" Not wasting anytime the large werewolf scouted the rippling, dark water. He spotted Harry out in the middle, his black hair windswept and his skin pale and shining in contrast to the black water. A breath of a second later and the dark head of hair fell from sight, under the rippling surface.

"He's gone under…" Cyn stated unnecessarily. Fenrir ripped off his shirt and spared not a glance at his pack before diving head first into the ice-cold water. His Alpha instincts to protect his pack raging within him. His wolf was in a tizzy over the new sub being in danger.

His lungs pulsed with the need to gasp when the water hit his skin, flushing over his body in cold waves of water. It felt like pinpricks of ice were embedded in his bones. He broke the surface and took a mouthful of much needed air. He wasn't a swimming champion but he was reasonable and with steady strokes he swam for the center of the lake ignoring the brushes of weeds and fish against his legs.

It took no genius to figure out that Harry had purposely swam into the middle of the lake, and the thought of the boy attempting to drown himself sent fierce waves of defense to dance and flutter in Fenrir's chest. He would rescue the boy and then teach him a lesson about not copping out. Life was hard. Living it was harder. But taking the easy way out was pathetic.

"You just wait, pup." He promised quietly and continued to swim for the center. The pack watched on from the bank.


I know, a LOT of original characters. Fear not, this story will be centered around Fenrir/Harry. With lots of slash-y goodness to come!

;)