Chapter 6

Their footsteps were heavy as they walked through the forest. They gave up on being silent hours ago as they searched for any sign of the pack but they hadn't found any trace of them yet. With a sigh, Sira started to climb a steep hill, Fenrir following closely behind her. "Why does the pack have to have such a huge territory?" she asked, knowing that her question was ridiculous at best. Fenrir chuckled as they reached the crest of the hill.

"It makes us harder to find," he explained, "and gives us more resources to use. It can be a pain when you have to maintain your borders though." He looked across the valley and pointed at what looked to be a small campsite. "There they are." He started to jog down the hill, knowing that the camp was much bigger than it actually seemed. Sira reluctantly followed him, growing tired after all of the walking.

"Can we just disapparate there?" she asked, trying not to sound whiny. Her old wound on her thigh was aching her and making it hard for her to walk properly. He shook his head.

"There are charms around the site, making it look smaller and less obvious to outsiders, and to prevent anyone from apparating in," he stated. "You can apparate out, but not back in." She nodded as she caught up with him. He watched her walk, noting her limp. "Do you need me to carry your bag for you?" She shook her head.

"No, I'm alright. It's just an old wound acting up and we're almost there anyway." She gave him a slight smile as she tried to hide her pain.

"Maybe you should get that looked at," he replied as he returned the smile.

"Cursed wounds, you know," she jested playfully. "They never heal properly."

"And we both have our fair share of them." He winked at her as they passed through the boundary and the campsite was now much larger than what it was to begin with. Men and women sat around small fires, keeping their eyes down as they spoke with each other, giving occasional glances to them as they passed. Children clung to their mothers as they tried not to make a sound. She felt all eyes on them, but she never could see them. The tension in the air weighed on her as she continued to look at the somber faces. After a while, she had to look down.

"Sira," Fenrir said softly, "you're alright. We're here to help, remember?" She nodded as she looked at him, trying to shake off the weight.

"Fenrir," Kael said as he swaggered up to him and shook his hand, "it's good to have you back. I readied the pack for your return."

"I see that," his voice dripped with sarcasm.

As Kael and Fenrir continued to talk, she noted a young man with black hair in the distance with a look of disgust on his face. The man picked up a boy with brown hair, who looked to be about six years old. She didn't know why she couldn't stop looking at him. Maybe it was the way that his dark hair fell, or the shape of his face, but when she looked at him, she couldn't help but think of her own son. The man glanced in their direction and caught her gaze. For a moment, his disgust vanished and his face softened. She could have sworn he could be Anthony if it wasn't for the black hair. He turned and walked away as the boy wrapped his arms around the man's neck.

Fenrir took her wrist as Kael stepped away, going back to a group of men he was talking to before they had arrived. He led her into a tent, ushering her in first before entering the tent himself. She walked into the main room of the tent and was surprised by the sheer size of it and the tidiness of it. It was completely unlike his old tent, when they were Snatchers. She put her backpack down and eased down on the sofa, trying not to make her leg any sorer than it was before.

He sat down next to her as he rubbed his hands together. "They're in a worse state than what I imagined."

"I didn't feel the hate towards me that I thought I would feel," she stated as she looked into his eyes. "I just felt a burden on them. Did you see how hungry some of them looked?" He nodded with a sigh.

"Kael hasn't been taking care of them like he should be." She nodded slowly, as he sighed. "They're starving."

"I hate to say this, but this could be to our advantage. If we better their living conditions, maybe they would be quicker to accept your ideas." She winced as she shifted a bit, pain shooting up her leg.

"Seriously, you need to go get that looked at," he stated, starting to worry about her and just adding another thing to his muddled mind. She shoved him roughly with a smile on her face.

"I'm fine and we have more important matters to think about anyway. How are we going to get these people what they need?" she asked. She knew he was concerned about her, but she was alright and she was trying to convince him of that.

Someone called from the entrance of the tent and Fenrir stood to go answer it. She rested her hand on her thigh, directly over where it hurt. Heat came from her old wound, causing her to sigh. Maybe he was right.

He sat down next to her again as he rubbed his face. "They want to have a ceremony for my return to the pack," he stated. "I told them that it wasn't necessary and that we both needed some rest anyway. I also told them to give the food that they had prepared to the pack." She nodded as her eyelids started to grow heavy.

"I think that sounds great," she mumbled as he smirked.

"You're really tired." She nodded as she closed her eyes. "Here, you can sleep in my bed. I'll take the sofa." He picked her up without letting her express her opinion. He carried her to his room and set her down gently in his bed.

"You know I don't approve," she stated as she yawned.

"I know." He smiled at her as she pulled the covers up around herself. "But you're more exhausted than I am." He looked into her eyes for a long moment before turning and leaving the room. With a sigh, she looked up at the ceiling of the tent as thoughts of the past came back to life in her mind. It seemed like they had happened yesterday but so long ago at the same time. Packing her truck to leave for Hogwarts for the last time, her auror training, and her time spent with the Order of the Phoenix, the smile of her best friend, and the feeling of finally having a home. All wonderful things in their own way. With her good memories also came her bad ones. The dark days as a Death Eater, the faces of the people she had murdered, the harsh gazes of her former friends in the Order, and the pain of her shattered soul.

Every night, she would see the ones she had murdered. They came to her in her sleep, asking her why they had to die by her hand. Every night, she would have to tell them that she didn't have a good reason for their deaths. They haunted her. Igor Karkaroff, her aunt, her uncle, Anastasia Dalca, and Rufus Scrimgeour would stare at her, waiting for her answer. An answer she could never give them.

The dream would always change though when she would turn around to look behind her. There stood the people who had cared about her in their lives, reassuring her to keep going, to keep living her life. Sirius Black would give her a hug and tell her that he was proud of her, Remus Lupin would give her a nod of encourage and a warm smile as he stood with Tonks. Her parents would be there, her dad's arm wrapped around her mom's shoulder, both of them would grin at her and tell her that they love her. Dumbledore would be there too, and even Snape, though they never saw eye to eye.

They were the only reason she was able to sleep at night.

She closed her eyes as she grew more relaxed, barely able to feel the soreness in her leg, and her world went black for a while.

"Fenrir's back," his girlfriend said as she let her auburn hair down out of a ponytail, her emerald eyes flashing with a tiny bit of hope. She was drying plates with a dish towel as he wiped off the small table in the corner of the tent.

"I know," he replied as he ruffled his black hair. "I saw him this afternoon with that brown-haired woman. I think she's an auror or something like that." He shrugged as he swung a rag onto his shoulder, resting it there.

"Aren't you excited?" she asked, smiling a bit. "I heard that he's changed." Her comment caused him to scoff.

"My father isn't changing for anyone," he stated blankly. "He's not like us. All he wants is power, just like Kael, and just like the rest of the ones who are 'in charge.' He doesn't care. He never has and he never will." Her smile wiped off of her face completely as she glared at him. His yellow eyes locked with hers, holding her gaze.

"You don't know that, Elliot. He could be a completely different man now and you wouldn't know it because you're too stuck in your old ways of hating him to be able to see that."

"I have my reasons to hate him. He made innocent people into savages, Raelynn, and he had people killed for his own gain. He made the pack the way it is now, the way he wanted it to be, and he's not the type of man to go back on his ways. When I knew him, he only wanted power. Nothing else."

"You were only five years old when you knew him," she stressed, raising an eyebrow. He looked down, finally breaking her gaze as he put the rag on his shoulder into a hamper of dirty clothes. She had a point there, and he knew that there was no way to argue with her there. "You really need to stop being so hard on him. He could be only trying to help the pack now and you wouldn't know because you're so cold to everyone that's affiliated with him. I love you, but sometimes, this attitude you have towards Fenrir really gets on my nerves."

"He's not your father," he mumbled as he took a seat in a rickety, old chair. "He's the reason we've had to grow up so quickly. Look at us, Raelynn, I'm twenty-four and you're twenty-three and we're being parents to two kids and trying to provide for them so that they can live decent lives. We shouldn't have to be worrying about where our next meal is coming from, or if we'll be punished for caring for these kids. We shouldn't be having to deal with this." She went over to him and cupped his face as she tilted his head back, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"I know that what we're doing is hard," she whispered smoothly, "and it's not ideal. But Devon and Malakai need us and you can't blame your father for what Kael has done. Fenrir didn't make Devon an orphan, or kill your mother and punish your brother. Kael did those things. Not Fenrir. Look at it this way, we're stronger than Kael will ever be, because you know why? We care about the people around us, we love this little family we were forced to make, and we love each other." A warm smile grew on her lips as she moved a bit closer to him. "And nothing can ever take that love away."

A soft cry came from the other room as he stood up and kissed her gently, before going to see what was wrong. "Elliot," the boy said fearfully as he sat down on the edge of his little bed, "they're going to hurt me." Tears fell from the boy's brown eyes as Elliot hugged him, kissing him on top of his blonde head.

"It's alright, Devon," he said gently. "No one is going to hurt you. It was just a bad dream." Devon sniffled as he buried his face in Elliot's shirt. The boy shook his head.

"They hurt Mama. She wouldn't wake up." Elliot held him closer, feeling sorry for the little boy. He had been getting so much better but nights like this would always remind Elliot of the horror he had to face. The six-year-old used to barely sleep. He would always wake up, begging for his mother with tears pouring down his face to realize that she wasn't there to comfort him. After that, he'd cry for hours until exhaustion would finally take him into its grasp, allowing him to rest. These nights had become fewer and farther between when he started to accept that Elliot and Raelynn wouldn't let anything happen to him, but they still occurred once and a while.

"I know," he whispered as he stroked the boy's head, waiting for him to calm down. "I know." Slowly, he stopped crying and looked up at Elliot, who smiled down at him. "Do you want to still sleep in your own bed tonight, or would you like to sleep with Raelynn and me?" Devon wiped his eyes and sniffled once again.

"They aren't going to hurt me?" he asked and Elliot shook his head. "I guess I'll stay here then." Elliot stood up as he lied back down, he tucked him in and kissed his forehead.

"Good night, Devon," Elliot whispered as the boy closed his brown eyes. The boy seemed to fall asleep almost instantly, but he stayed to make sure that he was alright before stepping out of the room.

"Is everything alright?" Raelynn asked as she went up to him, taking his hands in hers as her green eyes shimmered with her concern. Elliot nodded slowly as he pulled her closer.

"It was just a bad dream," he stated as he interlaced his fingers with hers, causing her to smile lightly.

"The same one?" He replied with another nod. "He's getting better though. It's been a couple of weeks since his last one."

"Yes, and this is one of the first times he's wanted to sleep in his own bed afterwards," Elliot added as he smiled back at her. He loved her so much and he felt like he didn't show that enough. It was just that life was difficult and stressful at times, making it hard for him to show her how he felt. She nodded as she squeezed his hands.

"You look exhausted," she said warmly, causing him to smirk.

"I am exhausted and you look tired too." She smirked and pulled him to their bedroom, deciding against making a comment about the cockiness of his words. They both had a long day and they felt that it was better to end it on a good note than to ruin it. They had enough ruined days to last a lifetime already.

Sira was jolted awake by a burning pain in her left arm as a scream escaped her chest. She clenched her arm and pressed it hard against her stomach as she drew her knees up closer to her chest. Her scream had ended as suddenly as it had begun, but the pain lingered. She was covered in sweat. Her breathing was hard. It was just a dream, she told herself.

Somehow, it didn't convince her.

"Sira, are you alright?" Fenrir asked, rushing into the room to make sure she was okay. She nodded slowly, trying to calm down, but she knew by the way he looked at her she wasn't managing to do so.

"It was just a dream," she told him softly as the pain finally subsided in her arm, enough that she was comfortable with seeing if her words were true for herself. She held her left arm out, revealing the scar of the Dark Mark that used to be there. "See?" She gave him a little smile. She wouldn't tell him that she was afraid that it wasn't. She wouldn't tell him that she thought that Voldemort had returned. She wouldn't tell him that thoughts of him and the Death Eaters still plagued her mind after all these years, thoughts of the things she had done.

"Do these dreams happen often?" he asked, knowing that she wasn't confident in herself. It shown in her blue eyes. She bit her lip, somehow knowing that he would be able to see past her ruse.

"Every night," she whispered, embarrassed at her own weakness. He sat down on the bed beside her, his yellow eyes gazing at her while she stared at her hands. "They're usually not as bad as this. I can usually deal with them but I usually don't see the Dark Lord in them."

"Do you want to talk about them?" His question was something she had asked him hundreds of times while he was in Azkaban. All she could do was shake her head, fearing of exposing more of her fragile soul to him. She had to protect what she had left. Her broken pieces, never to be mended again. She had come to the conclusion that she would never be whole again, never like she had been before the war.

"I have dreams that haunt me too, Sira," he admitted. "They're probably not as severe as yours are but they're still there. They try to tempt me to go back to my old ways and try to convince me that it is the best thing for me to do. But just as I'm about to give in, someone comes and reminds me of the better life I will soon be living, and that person is you." She looked up into his face, knowing the point he was trying to make because she could see the love in his yellow eyes. "You mean the world to me."

She nodded as she rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her. She closed her blue eyes, just wanting to be comforted for a moment and not wanting to think about the consequences of giving into him for even a little bit. She just wanted to feel loved for a moment, to feel the warmth of a body next to hers. "Can you stay with me tonight?" she asked as she looked up into his face. All she needed was someone to be there. To not feel so alone. He nodded and he laid back, pulling the covers over them. She cuddled up next to him, resting her head on his chest as her breathing slowed. He pulled her even closer to him, trying to not disturb her as her eyes closed. After she fell asleep, he found it harder to stay awake and he soon did too.

"I seriously can't believe you're actually doing this," Isabella stated as she watched her half-brother pack a backpack with clothes and supplies. "I mean, I could see you going and visiting your father every once and a while, but staying for a week. It seems idiotic to me. You're not even werewolf." He rolled his eyes at his sister's comment, trying to stay positive about the situation. He was actually kind of excited to go and see what it was like even though there was some danger involved in it.

"I'm the son of the Alpha," he said as he put another pair of dark-wash jeans into the bag. "That's about like being a werewolf in their eyes."

"But what happens when you get bit, Anthony?" she asked sternly as she tossed a pair of his socks at the back of his head.

"Then I get bit. I don't plan on being there during the full moon anyway so I won't get infected." He zipped his bag up, satisfied with his work.

"What about me and Dad?" she questioned, her always cold eyes finally showing some warmth in them as they gazed at him. "First, Mom leaves and now you too?"

"Mom will be back soon and so will I," he replied, trying to be as clear with her as possible. He gave her a little smile that was more like a smirk. "It's not forever."

"So you don't think our family is falling apart?" She looked like a child at that moment, her walls she had built to protect her had vanished. He could see the fear in her eyes. "Dad's been acting distant with Mom and Mom has been acting cold to him. He's been coming home at odd hours and he seems upset most of the time and Mom just doesn't seem to notice. Now she's run off with another man and who knows what she'll do, which has made Dad seem more upset. Please tell me that you see it too, Anthony. Please tell me that I'm not imagining all of this. I feel that our family is breaking apart."

"I've noticed that," he said gently, trying to comfort her, "but I don't think it's as bad as it seems. Once my father is used to being Alpha again and the pack is better, we'll all be together again like old times. But until then, we'll have to stay strong." He smiled sincerely as his yellow eyes shimmered with warmth. "I guess this is goodbye for now." He slung the backpack onto his shoulder and headed out of the room. He stopped in the doorway and turned to give her one last smile, before walking down the stairs, out of the house, and heading out into the cold night.