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Chapter 28:

Reaching An Understanding

Alex

"The Marrok," I said. What the Red King is to the Red Court, what Lara Raith is to the White Court, The Marrok is to the werewolves. Most of his packs are made up of Tier Welshers, but other types of werewolves have joined him as well. No one knew how many wolves answered to him but it was estimated that he could call on a force of, at least, four thousand Tier Welshers. Needless to say, he's a major power in the supernatural world.

I told Wolf all this but she still had a confused look on her face.

"Okay, so he's the big bad wolf, doesn't mean we couldn't just run," Wolf said, her face indignant. Why was she upset? It was hardly an insult to be considered weaker than Bran Cornick. You'd have to be a god, or Dresden, to stop him if he decided to kill you.

I studied her for a moment. The changes Wolf went through when entering my house were much more pronounced in human form. If you saw her on the street you might be uneasy, but I doubt you would be able to point out why. Her hair was in a bun, her face was sharp, and she wore an outfit that wouldn't look out of place on a fashion-conscious Liberian. But there was something about her that still screamed predator; maybe it was the way her eyes never quite settled on anything, always checking the room for threats, maybe it was her body language, the way she held herself deliberately relaxed, or maybe it was just her innate nature that reminded humans of our days huddled by the roaring fire, praying that we would live to see the dawn.

Wolf being in my part of our mindscape might have civilized her, but it hadn't changed her true nature. For all that Wolf was me, she was a me that held Pack and the Hunt as most important. Right and Wrong never entered into the equation. Right to Wolf meant a good kill and a safe pack, wrong was anything that got in the way of that. I could work with that, after all I wasn't much different in that regard.

Pack, family, first.

Everything else had always been a distant second.

I sighed, that was all important but it didn't answer my questions, one of which was, how exactly did I know any of this? I hadn't really had time to get to know Wolf yet. But somehow I knew my assessment was spot on.

Why was she upset?

Or perhaps it did answer my question. A large part of Wolf's identity was predicated on being strong enough to kill any threat to her, our, pack. But what happens the first time she's in the real world? She meets one of the few people neither of us could kill—well, that we could kill without resorting to massive amounts of cheating.—Not only that, he proceeds to put her on her ass with just a look and then explain exactly why she isn't good enough to protect her pack.

I smiled at her before pulling her into a hug. After a moment she pulled back and gave me an odd look.

"What was that about?" Wolf asked.

"You looked like you needed a hug." I shrugged. "Now, where was I?"

"Why we're lucky to be alive," Wolf said, sounding slightly less upset than before. I decided to count that as a win.

"Right, okay, so to really understand why he's such a threat aside from his position, you have to know what a Tier Welsher is capable of. In half-form a Tier Welsher can easily punch through a concrete pillar, run better than sixty miles an hour, and heal from anything short of death. Their one, or more accurately biggest weakness is endurance. Maintaining half-form in and of itself isn't hard, but doing so during a protracted fight requires reserves most just don't have."

"And the Marrok is different?" Wolf asked.

"The Marrok is different." I nodded in agreement. "About a hundred and sixty years ago there was this nutter who thought he was the reincarnation of King Author. Crazy? Yes, certainly. But what made him dangerous was his ability to fight in half-form for nearly half an hour. So he starts bringing the local packs under his command. No big deal, Bran was mostly focused on North America at the time. What did he care if some loon was setting himself up as Were-King of England? He didn't of course, but the Idiot cared. The Idiot cared a lot."

I sighed and leaned back into Wolf, pulling her arms around me before I continued. "The would-be king viewed Bran as a threat to his right to rule. So, under the pretense of friendship, he invited Bran to England for a hunt. For whatever reason, Bran accepted." I ran my hand through my hair. "Now, it's not clear how he did it but, nonetheless, the Idiot managed to get The Marrok in wolf form and then trap him in a nearby forest. Presumably he had something big backing him or else a lot of help to power something strong enough to trap Bran."

While I had been talking, Wolf's face had drawn together in thought. Either she was trying to find the memory of the book where I got my information or she was trying to figure out how he planned to kill Bran. I was leaning towards the latter and my suspicions were proven correct when she spoke. "Trapping Bran wouldn't be his goal. He thought that he was supposed to be Alpha, so leaving Bran alive wouldn't be acceptable. You can't leave a threat that big alive, or your rule will always be in question. So he had to kill Bran, but he was too weak to kill him by himself, right?"

I nodded with a smile. She was thinking. Good. Dumb muscle had its uses but an intelligent partner was much better. I had already lost two families, I had no intention of losing anyone else. Wolf's existence greatly increased my ability to protect my family.

Finding a balance that would work for the both of us would, undoubtedly, be difficult, and that was without taking Dragon into account. But it would be worth it, I'm sure. Not, I think, that I really had a choice in the matter. I'm not even sure I could kill Wolf at this point. Not only did I lack the skill to do so, as Wolf had so aptly demonstrated, but she was as tied to our mindscape as I was. Killing her would damage me. It might even kill me. No, a balance, no matter how difficult it is to come by, was much better all around.

"Alex?" Wolf asked, sounding bemused.

"Hmm?" I said.

"How did the Idiot try to kill Bran?" Wolf asked.

"Oh right," I can't believe I spaced out again, I really need to work on that. "Apparently he managed to stick a family of Loup-garous in the trap with Bran…"

"Loup-garou?" Wolf asked.

"You don't know what a Loup-garou is?" I asked, a little confused. How much access did she have to my memories? Because it seemed like she could look at them but there also seemed to be a lot of holes in her knowledge base.

"No," Wolf said.

"A Loup-garou is a werewolf that only changes on the full moon. The rest of the time they're completely normal. No enhanced senses, no super strength, but when they turn they're just this side of unstoppable. They can go toe to toe with a Tier Welsher in half-form and win. The only known way to kill a transformed Loup-garou is with inherited sliver. Anything else is just a temporary inconvenience."

"How many of them were there?" Wolf asked.

"The book said twelve, though I'm almost certain that's an exaggeration. But whatever the real number is, Bran is the only one who walked out of that forest alive." Even if it had only been two Loup-garous, that feat alone was enough to put The Marrok firmly on my Do-Not-Fuck-With list.

"So he lasted the whole night in half-form?" Wolf asked. Looking appropriately awed.

I nodded. "That's what the book said."

"So what happened to the Idiot?" Wolf asked.

"Dead. Apparently Bran tracked him down and, uh, expressed his displeasure in an incredibly violent manner," I said, before sighing. "I think it's time we come to an accord."

Wolf's face turned serious, but before she could respond the backdoor slammed opened and in walked Dragon. At first glance you could be forgiven for thinking she was human, but upon closer inspection you'd notice some…irregularities. Her skin was not skin, but intricately interlaced scales. Her magma colored eyes had a slit pupils, and her teeth…good lord, her teeth. As she opened her mouth to speak, I got a glimpse of a near endless maw of razor sharp teeth. Her mouth didn't look big enough to contain that many teeth.

I squinted my eyes and leaned forward to get a better look. No, I decided, it wasn't a trick of the light. She actually had more teeth in there than was physically possible.

"What'd you do? Rob the Osmond family?" I asked, incredulously. Wolf started laughing and Dragon rested her face in her hand as if she were in physical pain. "What?"

"You didn't even hear me, did you?" Dragon asked, sounding annoyed for some reason. I just look at her blankly. "No! Of course not! Do you have any idea how long I've been working on that?"

"On what?" I asked, more than a little confused. Wolf was still laughing.

"My entrance!" Dragon said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Wait for you two to start talking about a deal. Slam the door open, then as you're reeling from the noise, sashay inside before striking a pose. Then, as you look at me in wonder and fear, I say 'you haven't forgotten about little old me have you?'" Dragon crossed her arms and started pouting. "Would have been awesome too, but nooo, more teeth than the Osmond family, my ass…" From there her muttering became too incoherent to follow.

I stared at her, completely at a loss on how to take this latest development. Dragon was acting like, like some sort of overly emotional teenager. I glanced at Wolf—who was still laughing—she did actually look older than both Dragon and I. By a fair margin at that. Where I looked eleven and Wolf looked somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, Dragon, for all her blatant inhumanity, did actually look about sixteen.

I swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat.

Oh God.

A teenager.

I turned my gaze skyward and glared. What, by all the gods, had I done to deserve this? I had never been a saint. But this? This?! Oh, if I ever find the Power that brought me to this universe, I will have vengeance. And it will be glorious!

"Alex?" Wolf asked, finally getting over her bout of insanity.

"Hmm?" I said, giving her a curious look.

"Why, exactly, are you cackling?" Dragon asked, looking slightly unnerved.

"Swearing eternal vengeance. Why, did I space out again? I really need to work on that," I said. Dragon and Wolf exchanged glances before Dragon sighed and flopped down onto the chair with us.

"We were, I believe, about to come to an agreement," Dragon said instead of answering my question.

"Right, so we obviously can't continue as we have been. But I'm hesitant to just," I stopped unsure how to phrase my feelings on the matter.

"You don't want to just give up control of your body," Wolf said. Oddly she didn't sound bitter. I would have expected more resentment from being trapped in our mindscape for so long.

"Well, yes. I've no problem sharing most things but I never thought I'd have to share my body. Well, at least not until I started dating. And even then not literally," I said, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"We won't have enough magic for me to take over until we're a hundred, at least. If I tried now we'd die," Dragon said.

"Let's avoid that," I said, losing a little color. At the same time though, I was relieved. I had the better part of a century before I had to worry about her just usurping control. I turned to Wolf. "You, on the other hand, can take over, and you probably want some Real World time."

Wolf nodded. "I want to hunt!"

"No people," I said. Wolf frowned. "A good hunter picks their prey carefully. If you go after people it draws attention. Eventually it will draw the attention of someone we can't kill. Someone strong enough to kill us, and if we die, who's going to protect Dudley?"

Wolf didn't look happy but eventually she nodded. "No people."

"If you really want to kill someone that badly, you just have to wait. We have a lot of enemies, your chance will come," Dragon said, her voice consoling, as she gave Wolf a half-hug.

I nodded. "And until then I'm sure we can find interesting prey in the Forbidden Forest. Or not, between the Dun'kle cats and the giant spiders. We should probably stick to the not-forbidden forests," I said after thinking that through. "Anyway, how does every Friday night sound? I mean, it will probably have to wait until we get back to Hogwarts. There aren't exactly good hunting grounds near Privet Drive."

Wolf nodded in agreement. "That sounds good."

I turned to look at Dragon. "I know you can't really go outside, but I don't want you to be trapped in here…"

"Anymore?" Dragon quipped.

I rolled my eyes. "Anymore."

"As long as you don't block me I can piggy back your senses. It's not the same as experiencing the real world myself but, it will do," Dragon said.

I nodded. I could live with that, and if the time came where she did just take over? Hopefully shed remember that I had treated her well and return the favor.

"Someone should go outside soon. We've been here awhile and keeping Bran waiting isn't a good idea," Wolf said.

"If there's nothing else we need to go over right now?" I asked. Dragon and Wolf shook their heads. "Then I'll be going."

Time to face The Big Bad Wolf.

I closed my eyes.

Breath. Focus. Sense.