Dinner was awkward and tense.

Mrs. Mason had brought Rachel a wooden bowl of soup, some kind of stew with potatoes and venison. It tasted good enough; in fact, it was better than anything Rachel had been able to make yet. But that wasn't the problem.

The woman herself was kind enough. Rachel would have probably been happy, had she been born into the Mason family and had this soft-spoken woman as her mother. But because she hadn't, because her own mother had been much colder and more bitter, she found herself mistrusting the older woman's intentions instinctively.

Of course, Mrs. Mason wasn't the reason Rachel was tense to begin with. It was Albert. But the older woman seemed oblivious to her eldest son's advances and Rachel doubted she'd be terribly concerned even if she told her. From her general understanding of mothers that weren't her own, they tended to defend their own children, no matter how ridiculous they were. And Albert seemed to have the run of things as the oldest man in the house.

The older lady's attempts at conversation only made the situation more awkward. Rachel figured the woman was probably starved for company. After all, the Mason family lived out in the forest, away from any towns and villages. They'd had no company for months, it seemed; even if that disease hadn't ravaged the countryside, Rachel doubted they'd had any visitors in recent memory. And Mrs. Mason herself was the only adult in the house that wasn't one of her own children, as well as the only other woman.

So Mrs. Mason told Rachel all about her life. How her sons were wonderful and how much she loved them. How she filled her days with cleaning and tending their pets and livestock. How kind and pleasant her husband was before he died. How there was another brother named Carl between Albert and Eddie, and how he'd been lost in a hunting accident. Rachel listened sympathetically, but all the while she couldn't help but notice that Mrs. Mason never actually talked about herself.

It was as if her entire personality was subsumed by her family. It weighed heavily in Rachel's gut, reminding her of unpleasant things. But Mrs. Mason didn't need to know about that.

Towards the end of the meal, though, there was one thing Mrs. Mason said about herself in a roundabout sort of way.

"What a lovely cloak," she remarked, looking over to Rachel's blood red hood as it hang from the hook on the back of the door. "I had one just like it when I was your age." Rachel thought she saw a flicker of something in the woman's eyes, but it was immediately shrouded by her kind mask. She didn't know how to ask about it, so she simply let the older lady continue when she saw fit.

"Come to think of it, I was wearing it when I first met my husband," she remarked, her expression turning somewhat wistful. But that was apparently all she had to say about that, as she dropped the subject after finishing her thought.

So Rachel patiently waited for the soft-spoken lady to finally gather her skirts and take her leave. But Rachel didn't think she'd be able to sleep.

For starters, as soon as the door slid shut, she heard voices in the hall. She knew Mrs. Mason was speaking to one of her sons in a low, soft voice. From the sounds of things, it was probably Eddie. Even putting her ear to the door, the thick wood muffled their whispering voices. But it was clear they were discussing her. Finally, she heard a key turn in the lock of the door and then the soft shuffle of footsteps as they retreated.

Rachel's eyes widened. It was possible they were simply locking Albert out. But that also meant she was locked in. There was no way she'd be able to wait until they were asleep to leave through the door and go look for Zack. It also meant that she would have to take her leave as soon as possible; with the door able to be locked from the outside, she was essentially trapped.

Rachel rushed to the wardrobe, flinging it open to retrieve her black overdress and other clothes. Minutes ticked by as she threw them on and it seemed as if the house had grown quiet. By the time she'd put her shoes on, the lights peeking from underneath the heavy wooden door had dimmed.

Creeping as silently as a mouse, Rachel approached the slatted window. The cold air from outside seeped in between the wooden planks; nearer to the fireplace, she was able to ignore the draft because of the heat from the fire. But as she inspected the window, that warmth was unable to overcome it. Curiously, she undid the latch on the window and then slowly worked it open. Before she could get it open wide enough to slip through, though, she heard a sound that nearly stopped her heart.

The outside door slammed loudly shut.

There were heavy footsteps, telling her that someone, most likely Albert, had just come back into the house. They also told her that he was headed her way. Silently, she crept back toward the door to listen; she figured she was safe because the door was locked.

Just as she pressed her ear to the crack of the doorframe, the doorknob jiggled.

It was quiet at first, then escalating to a furious shaking. After a few seconds, she heard swearing and then the heavy stomp of footsteps. Rachel froze as she listened.

"Why is the door locked, you little shit?"

There were a few more footsteps before they suddenly stopped. Rachel imagined Albert was talking to Eddie and that the younger man was staring his brother down.

"Why would I know? Maybe Rachel locked it."

There was some kind of scuffle just then, two pairs of boots shuffling on the floor along with the sounds of huffing. She heard the sound of a fist colliding with flesh and of someone slamming against the wall near her door.

"Don't lie to me!" came the hissed reply. Rachel thought they must have been trying to keep the noise to a minimum to avoid waking their mother. "I know it doesn't lock from the inside!" Rachel's eyes widened; it was just confirmation of what she'd already figured – that she was locked in like an animal.

There was another small scuffle between the two men. She couldn't tell exactly what was going on, but it sounded like Albert was looking for the key in Eddie's clothes. The younger man was clearly struggling and seemed short of breath, almost as though he was being choked. He finally released a heavy breath, followed by several short pants. Rachel's brow furrowed; had Albert gotten what he wanted?

His heavy footsteps answered that question. He approached the door, making no attempt to hide his intentions.

"Albert, please," Eddie pleaded from behind him. "You know how mother feels about this!"

"So?" he responded flippantly. "She'll come around and so will Rachel. It doesn't really matter what they want." As the words escaped his lips, the key slid into the lock with a metallic noise. Tumblers shifted into place, unlocking the door to the prize he sought. As soon as the lock clicked open, his hand was on the doorknob, turning it and pushing inward.

"Albert, you-!"

"Shut it, Eddie!" he barked over his shoulder. "Just sit out here and wait! Or you can listen if you want, I don't care." Albert laughed at what he clearly thought was a clever retort before turning to face the now-open room. But his mirth quickly turned to fury.

The room was empty.

"Are you screwing with me?!"

He rounded on Eddie, arm raised to strike, but the younger man had already taken a half-step back in shock.

"No, she… she was just here!" Eddie replied, startled. "Mother only just came out half an hour ago, and it's been locked this whole time!" Albert's head snapped back to look at the room again. This time he saw what he'd missed.

The window was wide open, curtains blowing inward as snow collected on the floor. Scanning the room, he could see that Rachel's shoes, cloak, and basket were all missing. Clearly she had left through the window. Albert cursed under his breath, probably recalling that she had been examining it earlier that day.

"You idiot!" he rounded on Eddie again. "You forgot to lock the window!"

"It was locked!" the smaller man protested. His brother shoved him aside, nearly knocking the breath out of him.

"It doesn't matter!" Albert snarled, "Go make sure that damn wolf is still locked up in the barn. That's probably where she went." There was a small pause while Eddie seemed to think about it.

"This wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't still back there," the younger man said unhappily. "If Father was still alive…"

"But he's dead, so stop questioning me!" Albert ordered angrily, "I'm the man of this house now and you only stay here because I let you! Now get outside and find Rachel! Before the snow covers up her tracks-!" After a few more moments of stomping, both men were out on the porch. The door slammed heavily behind them.

Seconds stretched into minutes and their angry voices could be heard outside the house. Eventually they faded into the night, leaving the room with both window and door wide open. The only sound to be heard was that of the logs crackling in the fireplace. After a few more minutes of quiet, though, a low creak slid into the room as the door of the wardrobe cracked open.

Rachel peered from behind the door of the cabinet, making sure she was now alone. Her ruse had worked: Albert and Eddie both believed she had gone out the window. Better yet, the door was now open. Pulling her cloak tightly around her shoulders, Rachel rushed out of the door and into the main room of the house.

The Mason home was larger by far than Rachel's family's house. There didn't seem to be an upstairs; rather, there was a spacious front room with rocking chairs, a comfy looking bench, and a large fireplace. Mrs. Mason's sewing kit sat beside her rocking chair, where a half-finished quilt lay over the arm of the chair. Off to the back of the room there was a doorframe leading into the kitchen area, but Rachel had no time to explore it. Instead, she ran straight to the front door and threw it open.

It was snowing again outside. The night was dark and silent but the white of the snow reflected the heavy clouds very well; Rachel didn't even need her tinder box to see. Better still, it was obvious which way the barn was; the brothers' footprints lined the snow-filled ditches running along the side of the house. Rachel crept along the wall, keeping to the shadows.

Coming to the back of the house, Rachel found a snow-covered woodpile stacked against the side of the house. Across the back yard from the house was a large barn with the weak orange light of a small lantern pouring out of it. She watched long shadows stretch out into the snow, dancing with the flicker of the fire light. Angry voices floated to her through the cold air; apparently the Mason brothers were searching the barn for her.

The muffled impact of boot into muscle, followed by the shudder of chains made its way across the snowfield to her. A familiar cough then reached Rachel's ears. Her heart pinched in her chest; Zack was in there and he was injured.

She wanted to run straight to him but she knew better. She couldn't hope to take Albert in a fist fight and getting close enough to use her hand cannon was too risky. Rachel needed a way to draw the brothers away from Zack without getting too close. As her hand came to rest on the snowy woodpile, she had an idea.

The logs were cut just small enough that they fit fairly well in her hands and they weren't too heavy to pick up; they must have been cut with Mrs. Mason in mind. In fact, they were just light enough to toss. And looking across the mushy carriage tracks to the border of the woods, Rachel's plan clicked into place.

The soft but strong thud of something hitting the snow caused Albert and Eddie to both whip their heads around towards it. Snow flew up from the ground near the edge of the forest across from the house, shaking out of some bushes and causing slush to fall from the branches overhead and onto the ground. With a growl, Albert headed towards the commotion and drug Eddie along behind him.

Once they were clear of the barn and focused on the log she'd thrown into the border of the woods, Rachel dashed across the lawn. Snow flew up around her skirts as her feet flew over the whitened field, the cold air burning her lungs as she panted. Within a few seconds, she was in the barn and frantically looking into the stalls to find Zack. There were two horses, a couple of pigs, a stall full of goats, and in the very last stall…

A pang jolted Rachel's heart when she caught sight of Zack. He lay still on the ground on a bed of hay, splatters of blood soaked into the straw covering the dirt. She had to look past the bars covering his face to see his mouth; there was a wicked looking muzzle strapped to his jaw, keeping it clamped shut. His lips were red as well, the blood trickling down his cheek to pool underneath his face. His cloak and tunic were gone, leaving him in nothing but his breeches and boots, causing Rachel to worry that even if he was a wolf, he would still succumb to the cold as well. His bandages, normally just a bit dusty, were splattered with blood, soaking through on his chest and abdomen. Without even thinking about it, she began undoing the tie around her neck to pull her cloak off to lay over him.

But that was the least of their problems. As Rachel lay her red cloak over Zack's bare back, she could see the shackles attached to his ankles and wrists. Even though she had found him, she didn't have the key to unlock him. Albert probably had it, and Rachel would have to think of some way to get it from him. But for the moment, she had to focus on Zack.

She couldn't bare to see him this way. The strong wolf, the one who had almost killed her twice now, he was vulnerable and weak on the floor of a filthy barn. It was wrong, a wrongness that Rachel felt deep inside and at odds with the image of the powerful wolf that she'd grown accustomed to seeing. Even if she died or was trapped with the Masons, she didn't want Zack to suffer like this.

Quickly, hands shaking, she gently took his head and lifted it up. The back of his head was wet with blood; there was clearly a gash under his hair and he had probably been struck there. Judging from his inability to hold his head up, Rachel figured he'd been beaten into insensibility. But as she supported his head she saw his ears twitch and his eyes flutter. Fumbling at the back of his head, she undid the strap and let the muzzle fall away, freeing Zack's mouth.

Hazily, he opened his eyes and began to focus on Rachel's face.

"Zack?" she whispered, the tension peeking through her voice. "Zack, are you awake?"

"You came for me…?" His voice was rusty and rough; clearly his throat was raw from growling and having his jaw shut for the whole day hadn't done him any favors. Stranger still, the question implied he hadn't really expected her to come after him. "What a weird human…"

"Can you stand?" She got right to the point. "And do you know where the key to your shackles is?" He came back to full consciousness with a quick shake of his head.

"That red-haired asshole has it," he rasped. "The tall one…"

"That's Albert," Rachel confirmed, pushing Zack's hair back from his face. He seemed to be having trouble focusing on her, but he was certainly trying.

"On a first-name basis, huh?" he fussed as Rachel moved to inspect his wrist. She wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not, but his wrist was definitely raw from the rusty metal that had been wrapping it. There were damp, red places on his bandages underneath the shackles and running down his arms.

"Not that I want to be," she said, nearly apologetically. "Just stay still and I'll-"

"And you'll what?"

A chill washed over Rachel's entire body. Before she could turn her head to confirm what she'd just heard, she felt a hand tighten around her neck. In just another second, Rachel was pressed against the wooden wall of the barn, pinned by her neck.

"I knew you'd wind up here," Albert sneered with a wicked grin. "Dogfucker." Rachel's hands attempted to pry his fingers away from her neck to no avail.

"Good thing I doubled back around, huh?"

"Let her go, you piece of shit, shrimp dick, festering asshole!"

Albert's eyes slid over to Zack, lit by the barn's lantern. They were green, but with an unearthly glow that Rachel didn't think she'd even seen on Zack at his worst. The wolf, meanwhile, was straining against his chains, pulling them taut from the wooden wall. Rachel could tell they were reinforced somehow; otherwise, with how hard he was pulling, he definitely would have destroyed the wood and yanked them free.

"Oh, you took its muzzle off?" Albert continued, squeezing Rachel's throat harder. His eyes slid slowly back over to her face; when their gazes finally met, the full weight of the cold settled on Rachel's entire soul. Without moving her at all, he wheeled a booted foot around to connect with Zack's jaw, sending him back to the ground. "What a sweet girl."

Zack climbed back to his knees unsteadily, spitting the blood from his mouth.

"Let's see how brave you are when I get outta these chains, you shitface human," Zack huffed. Without breaking eye contact with Rachel, Albert pulled a string out of his coverall pocket; there, dangling on the end, was the key to Zack's freedom.

"Need this first, don't ya?" he asked with a small laugh. "I know - I'll make you a deal." The predatory look on his face would've made a lesser woman faint, but Rachel refused be cowed by him. She stared Albert dead in the face, unflinching and steely. She could still hear the sound of Zack's low growl coming from the stable at her side, as well.

"What is it?" Rachel choked out. He didn't let up on her throat, though.

"You become my woman, I let the mutt go," Albert said, his face as smug as ever as he dangled the metal key from his free hand. It wasn't even a question; once Zack was free, he'd take care of Albert. Surely he must also know that.

"What's the catch?" she wheezed, eyes narrowing. His face lit up as though he'd been waiting for her to ask.

"Not as dumb as you look, are you?" he crooned. "Did you really think I'd just let him go without getting what I want first?" Rachel glanced over at Zack; he was still straining against his chains, the look on his face desperate.

"Ray, don't do it," he wheezed. "Don't listen to this ass-" Albert cut him off with another kick to the jaw.

"Well? How about it?" Albert crowed. "You won't hate it, and if you do a good enough job I'll even let you say goodbye." Rachel flicked another pleading look at Zack. She had an idea, but she would need him to behave long enough to pull it off.

"Okay," she finally agreed. Albert's smile became even more deranged as he released her and triumphantly slipped the key back into the front pocket of his coveralls. Rachel watched him keenly, tracking that key with her eyes. After rubbing her neck gingerly for a moment, she saw that Albert was already sliding the straps of his coveralls off his shoulders.

"Great!" he nearly laughed. "We can do it right here in the barn. That's pretty fancy for a little slut like you, huh?" Rachel wasn't unused to being insulted, so it didn't bother her. But Zack was getting more worked up by the second.

"The first thing I'm gonna do when I get these cuffs off," Zack growled as Albert made direct eye contact with him, "Is rip your dick off and feed it to ya." In response, Albert smirked, placed a hand on Ray's chest, and squeezed. She refused to flinch; maybe it was the lack of reaction that caused him to fling her to the ground a moment later. He followed quickly behind, pouncing and pushing her knees apart.

"At least it's gonna get a good work out with your little tramp here first, right, mutt?" Albert shot back, nearly overwhelmed with the glee of taunting the captive wolf.

Rachel could see Zack struggling against his chains just within reach of her left arm. She had fallen neatly in front of him in profile; she couldn't have planned it better herself. Not only was she just close enough that her plan could work, but if Albert was too fast for her, it wouldn't be within Zack's line of sight. In fact, as Albert was distracted by shoving his coveralls down to his knees, revealing his long underwear, Ray could see the little string fall out of the pocket and trail on the straw floor of the barn. She slid her hand under her splayed skirts, which Albert was gleefully shoving aside, and managed to just clutch the end of the string. After another few flexes of her fingers, the key was safely out of Albert's pocket and in her hand.

Before she could move her arm, though, Albert pinned her body with his and moved in for a kiss. Rachel was just fast enough to turn her face away in time to avoid him. Thwarting him made for a good distraction, though; in fact, she dodged another misplaced kiss, forcing him to grab her jaw with one hand and use his other to press her shoulder onto the ground.

"No kissing," Rachel said firmly, hoping he would just give up on the idea.

"Well, so little sluts can be picky, too," he sneered, meeting Rachel's eyes, "I'm gonna do a lot more than kiss you, though." Rachel stared back at him boldly, waiting for the right moment to slip the key to Zack. Presently, he gave her an idea.

"Get off of her, you asshole! Diseased shit head! Fuckin' human!"

Had Zack been yelling epithets the entire time? Rachel wouldn't be surprised if she'd lost focus on listening to him, she was so busy trying to get that key. But this was another great opportunity. She lifted her hand to Zack's mouth, slipping the key between his teeth as subtly as she could.

"Zack, hush," she said quietly, begging him with her eyes to hurry. Albert's eyes were on him again, too, so he had to keep his mouth shut to keep the key hidden. Rachel could tell he was furious about it anyway.

"Just shut up and watch, mutt," Albert sneered with a smug grin before turning his attention back to Rachel's skirts. As soon as his eyes were off of him, Zack pushed the key halfway out of his mouth with his tongue and held it with his teeth. Before she could watch him unlock his shackles, though, Albert got Rachel's attention again by squeezing the inside of her thigh roughly.

"Alright, you little slag," he huffed, causing her eyes to narrow. "Get re-"

It took Rachel's mind a moment to catch up to what had just happened. One moment, Albert was gloating over her and the next there was a metallic thwack and he simply wasn't there anymore. Rachel didn't bother asking questions; as soon as he was gone, she sat up to her knees and pushed her skirts back down. Then, rather than check where Albert had been flung, Rachel ignored it in favor of rushing to check on Zack.

He'd managed to nearly free one hand with his teeth when Rachel reached him. Wordlessly, she took the key from his mouth and turned the lock on the shackle with a tiny, metallic clink.

"Ray, you…" he began. She could guess he wanted to scold her, but now wasn't the time. They had more important things to do.

"I promise you can yell or hit me when we get out of here," she hurriedly whispered. Zack bristled at that, but Rachel studiously moved to free his other wrist.

"I'm not going to hit you, what the hell!"

His voice was drowned out by the sound of Albert screaming – only to be silenced by a wet 'thunk'. They both turned to see what had caused the commotion.

There were more impacts, the noise growing wetter and wetter each time. The source of the noise was a shovel, driving over and over into the head of Albert's prone form like an axe. The man smashing his skull in with the shovel stood over him, legs spread shoulder-width apart. His red scarf hung down his back, flapping with the motion of his arms. His coveralls were splattered and soaked with his brother's blood.

Finally satisfied that the problem was solved, Eddie froze with the shovel over his head. He panted from the effort, his shoulders heaving as he nearly hyperventilated. Then, his breathing turned to laughter. First one laugh, then another, then he was roaring as the tip of his shovel struck the floor of the barn. The peals of laughter shook his shoulders, the relieved cries of a freed man.

But it was decidedly eerie. Rachel and Zack both stared openly at him; Rachel could even feel Zack's hackles raise, just as the hair on the back of her neck was beginning to stand up. When Eddie turned to look at them, she understood why.

His face was splattered with his brother's blood but he was smiling widely. The lantern light reflected brightly off his green eyes, giving them the same unholy glow Albert's had only a few minutes ago. Rachel had opened Zack's other wrist shackle, but then froze under Eddie's unhinged stare.

"Hey, Rachel," he said, his voice totally dissonant with the look on his face. "Don't worry! You're safe now!" Reflexively, she wrapped her arms around Zack's bicep, gripping him tightly.

"But you really should get away from that monster."