50
OLLIE couldn't quite believe it. He stared straight ahead of him and to the floor, unable to tear his gaze away from Norah as she struggled and fought as much as her waning strength would allow. Though it did the wolf little good. But her efforts were not enough to free herself from her adopted father's blackened fingernails around her arm, which was trickling droplets of blood.
Norah's angry, terrified snarls filled the vast dining room and practically tore Ollie's already fractured heart in half.
This was the reason his ex-girlfriend hadn't been found. She'd not even been anywhere near Scotland, or London, or Merlin knew where she'd thought to hide out. She'd been brought to his own estate and held captive in his family's own cellar beneath his feet this entire time. Baba had kept Norah imprisoned here, because of him.
She'd been brought to his own family's ancestral home and held captive in the dirty cellar beneath his feet the entire time?!
He had always known his grandmother to be a distant and cold individual, but he would never have imagined that Baba Yaga could be this cruel. Yet, the proof was kneeling right in front of him, whether he liked it or not.
Unable to draw in a good breath, his jaw hanging open in shock, he turned desperate, questioning eyes towards his grandmother, and realized this was exactly what the bitch had done, just to humiliate her grandson even further.
Baba Yaga merely swiveled her head, almost sanguinely so, to regard him, and the vengeful glower on her face chilled the man's blood to ice in his veins, rendering him feeling freezing.
"Oh, Oliver." She clucked her tongue and shook her head to herself as if in mock disappointment. "Did you truly think that I did not know?" she asked him rhetorically as she reached up with an arthritic claw to gently caress the pale column of his throat, allowing her blackened fingernails to hover over his pinpricks. "You of all people, my dear boy, ought to know that we have spies everywhere. Or should I say, I have spies everywhere." She corrected herself as a twisted smirk curled her thin lips upward. "I've had spies scattered all throughout London. All of Great Britain as it so happens," she confessed with a nonchalant shrug. "Nothing happens in England that I do not know about, dear boy." Baba Yaga scoffed and narrowed her slit-like eyes as she waited.
As Ollie's reeling mind struggled to process her words, it was in that exact moment that the former Slytherin and Legilimens knew his grandmother meant to carry out the threat he'd been afraid of all along, the threat that had driven him to push Norah away in the first place. Baba's plan was to have Greyback kill Norah and leave him as a witness, and then likely kill him for daring to go against their family values and branding himself as a 'traitor.' Ollie had no time at all to feel how his heart briefly soared at the sight of the witch he now knew himself to be desperately and hopelessly in love with, as unorthodox and volatile as their partnership had gotten off to, there was hope.
His burning retinas drifted mournfully towards Jameson's face, as she was marched the last few steps in his family's dining room and shoved violently to her knees, below Baba's frown.
Unable to summon any strength to keep on fighting the men, her expression mirrored the same dread that Ollie's now did. It was as if the werewolf knew what was about to happen to her, as if Norah had more or less been waiting for it and had resigned herself to it.
Still being held forcibly by the pair of lesser known Death Eaters, Ollie's former girlfriend was escorted the last few paces to stand before Baba, and upon reaching the Dark Lord's trusted lieutenant, the burly brute who squeezed onto Norah's right arm, jerked the blonde werewolf off her feet and threw her violently forward to the ground in order to show the proper reverence to their commanding officer within Lord Voldemort's rankings.
Norah landed on her bruised stomach with a painful cry. In a bleary haze, her eyes brimming with tears caught Ollie's as the man lurched forward, his hand wound around the handle of his wand, his fingers twitching, reading to spring into action to save her.
But before he could reach the witch, two more Death Eaters barreled forward, and halted Ollie's progress with the tips of their own wand.
He stopped, feeling lightheaded and breathless, knowing he would be no help to Norah if they ran him through here and Baba decided to kill him where he stood. Ollie froze. The image of the piece of shit who had just harmed Jameson burned itself into his retinas, hotter than any dragon fire could ever flame or the Dark Mark could burn. This man would not live to see another sunset.
Using the last vestiges of her strength, Norah managed to push herself up to her knees with a soft grunt.
Anxiously, Norah knelt in front of Baba's chair, her form shaking violently as her stare held onto Yaga's fearfully, for the sheer unbridled power she knew the bitch held over her own life.
They'd taken her wand when they had managed to corner her and capture her and had broken it in half, so she was defenseless.
Yet at the same time, Norah's pale blue eyes, despite burning with tears at the uncertainty of whatever fate Yaga and her own father had in store for her, she held a contempt at Baba's hatefulness and cruelty, not only towards herself, but her grandson as well.
For a moment, Ollie's chest swelled with pride.
Despite Merlin knew how many months living in captivity and being forced to stay alive at an abominable level of cruelty and abuse and pain that he did not even want to begin to imagine, there was still a prideful fire burning within the young wolf's soul.
He knew then that Jameson would fight to the end. So would he. But then he realized, that Norah was adamantly looking anywhere within the room but at him. She refused to look at him.
"Oh, Miss Jameson," Baba Yaga grinned mockingly as she stared down her hooked nose at the petite blonde witch. "How…good of you to join us. I think there's someone else who would like to say hello, dear," she grinned, and motioned with a jerk of her head towards Evan Rosier for the Death Eater to leave the room.
The cloaked man with the five o' clock shadow gave a curt nod in return and marched towards the door. The lieutenant wasn't gone long. Norah said nothing, she merely sat and cowered in silence, waiting for the inevitable flash of green light.
Baba continued speaking, all the while looking between Norah and Greyback while she did it, as her father moved to stand just behind her. "You thought you'd outwitted me, little wolf," she murmured, raking her long fingernails over the wood's surface of the arms of her chair. "But as you know, I'm a patient witch. And were it not for our…next guest, we'd never have found you, sweetheart," she crooned, looking up just as the wide oak double doors of the dining room flung open with a loud, resounding bang that made Norah jump.
Evan Rosier stalked his way down the length of the room, all the while dragging a struggling figure over and kicked this individual in the back of his hamstrings, forcing him too into a kneeling position on his knees, to stand next to Norah so closely that their shoulders touched.
"No…" Norah whispered in a hoarse raspy croak that barely resembled her voice, her tears threatening to spill over as she lifted her chin to turn her head to get a better look at this new prisoner.
Wes was always peaky-looking even in his prime health, but now, one of his eyes was swollen shut, looking as though one of them, probably Rosier or Rookwood had hit him with a Stinging Jinx, his form slack, his breaths coming in ragged pants.
She heard Ollie draw in a sharp gasp of surprise and shock, but she paid her ex-boyfriend no mind. Norah only had eyes for Wes.
Wes's light brown hair was matted and tangled with congealed blood, his already pale face had drained of what little color was left, rendering a pallid look upon his face that made the shocking dark purple of the bruises littering his neck, face, and torso that much more of a striking contrast to look at.
She almost didn't recognize her best friend. His eye was swollen shut. He wouldn't be seeing out of that for a while if they lived through this. His face bore traces of congealed blood, that of his own, and his clothes were tattered, torn, and dirty. He was an utter mess.
Then her friend tried to say Norah's name, his cracked and bleeding lips failing at the first syllable, but Wes didn't need to.
Stifling a choked sob at the back of her throat, she scooted as close as she dared and cradled the older werewolf's head in her hands and forced Wes to look directly into her eyes.
"Look, look at me, Wes, just look at me, don't look at anything else, just my face, just focus on my face, Wes, look at me!" she whispered urgently, her voice cracking and breaking as she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, not caring if his blood stained her clothes or marred her skin.
She leaned forward and whispered something in the shell of the werewolf's ear, keeping her voice low enough so that only Wes heard.
Ollie's voice rent the air.
"Grandmother. Stop this!" the man begged, but the old hag merely raised a gnarled and arthritic claw to stop his protests. His concern for Norah and now for the other werewolf was so great that he saw no other choice but to obey. He reluctantly quieted.
"Let's get on with this, shall we?" Yaga announced to the other Death Eaters who were standing dutifully at attention. "Miss Jameson. My men cornered you on the outskirts of the Forest of Dean." She straightened in her chair, authoritatively.
"What?" Ollie snarled through gritted teeth, his entire body shaking in rage with the effort to remain calm and not fly off the handle. Ollie's face twisted and contorted with confused rage. The skin surrounding the burn mark underneath his right eye stretched and pulled tight.
The jittery light made the shadows cast by the dim overhead light above them and the few candles that had been lighted and scattered throughout the room made the man's face look even more monstrous than Ollie truly was.
"You have stolen something that is very near and precious to me," Baba Yaga continued in a droll voice, almost sounding bored as she glanced at her grandson out of the corner of her eyes. "Something that I fear shall now never enjoy returned to me," she charged the petite blonde werewolf, almost sounding wounded.
Ollie's face drained as he realized his grandmother was talking about him. She meant his heart, his time, and his loyalty.
"She never stole anything, Grandma!" he bellowed. "It was always hers. I gave it freely," he barked in a hoarse, grating voice.
He looked lovingly towards Norah in the hopes of enticing the witch to finally look at him, but she lowered her eyes and looked away, choosing instead to keep her gazed fixated on Wes.
Norah turned her face towards Baba Yaga and dropped her hands to the floor. She understood with a sinking feeling in her heart why she'd been brought from the disgusting cell in the cellar below. She knew what Ollie's grandmother had planned for her and Wes. She would beg this old bitch to spare Wes if need be. Let Father and Yaga do what they wanted of her but let him go.
She could not—would not—let Wes get hurt anymore because of her. They'd already tortured the wolf to the brink of death.
"Miss Yaga, I…please," she begged, imploring the older witch frantically as her breaths caught in her throat. Her throat burned and hallowed, screaming for relief as she strained to speak.
But she had to try. It was the only way to hopefully save him. "I beg of you," Norah continued as slick tears poured down her face. "Let Wes go, h—he's done nothing. It's me you want. Keep me, kill me, do whatever you want of me, but let my friend go…"
She stiffened, letting out a hiss as she felt Father's strong arm grip onto her forehead, but she dared not look back behind her.
"Grandmother!" Ollie shouted in shock. "Surely you wouldn't," he snarled, his face paling as his grandmother stared at him, now certain that the Russian-Slavic witch would indeed slaughter both werewolves kneeling on the floor in front of them. "Stop this!"
His heart shattered into a million pieces at Norah Jameson's helpless-sounding appeal, already knowing she would not comply.
Ollie knew he had to find a way to get them both out of there to safety, but where would they go? He wasn't exactly welcome back at Headquarters, he and Sirius had gotten into quite a row following Norah's dismissal from the Order, when he'd gone home. The man had demanded to see him following his turning away Remus and Dora.
The 'talk' had ended with a duel and Ollie would have, in his rage, almost killed Sirius had he not come to his senses and demanded that he leave. Sirius had, but not before making it painfully clear that he was not welcome at Grimmauld Place anymore.
Before he could so much as take one step forward, however, his grandmother's maniacal laughter filled the room.
"You're hardly in a place to make demands of me, She-Wolf," Baba Yaga corrected. "Be assured I will do whatever with you and your bastard wolf friend over here that I please," she chuckled darkly. "You're in no position to ask for anything, puppy dog."
Her tone rose steadily to match her growing anger as she addressed Norah. Norah could only sit trembling, afraid of what was to come. Ollie's mounting anger was growing as his mind raced to find an escape route to get them all someplace safe.
"Oh, please, do not think me unsympathetic to your plight," Baba Yaga addressed Norah with a horrible sense of mocking compassion as she looked down her hooked nose at the witch. "I know all too well what it is like to have a loved one betray you."
Here, she shot Ollie a withering look that made him flinch and his heart pound relentlessly against the confines of his chest.
Without waiting for her grandson to respond, Baba turned back towards the blonde werewolf and smiled widely at Norah, as though the Russian witch had just been enlightened with a truly inspired idea. "In fact, dearie. I think we would be doing you a favor if we relieved you of this heavy burden. This traitor who was only so happy to divulge your location to us with a little…persuasion, shall trouble you no longer, little she-wolf."
The color in Norah's face drained as her blue eyes grew wide, and she tightened her grip around Wes's arm, who merely grunted, unable to speak past the occasional gurgling noise. She shook her head in horror.
"No," she begged through her sobs, and tried to move backward, taking Wes with her, towards the door.
"Now!" Baba commanded towards Evan Rosier and Rookwood, as she stood to watch. The Death Eaters moved around Norah, stopping the wolf's any pitiful hope at escape, and violently wrenched Wes's limp and unresponsive form away from her.
They knelt into a slight crouch, two at each of his wrists and the same at his ankles, as Rookwood waved his wand and a length of rope shot from the end of it, coiling around Wes's arms, middle, and legs, preventing the battered werewolf from trying to escape.
Norah squirmed with all her might against her father's ironclad grip, who had one claw firmly wound tightly around her arm, as one of the Death Eaters—Rookwood, that bastard—raised the tip of his wand and pointed it squarely at Wes's chest.
"NO!" she screamed, her voice hoarse as her terrified and guttural shrieks flooded the room and echoed off the high ceiling.
But her plea was drowned out by the sound of Augustus Rookwood muttering the last and worst of the Unforgiveable Curses.
"Avada Kedavra!" Rookwood snarled through gritted teeth, and the familiar flash of green light burst forth from the tip of his wand and hit poor Wes squarely in his chest, and his limp form crumpled into a heap and he moved no more, his hazel eyes staring lifelessly and in a silent last plea for his friend to help him.
A ringing began to screech in Norah's ears and her heart was almost pounding against her ribs. Oh, gods, oh, Merlin, she was feeling it. A drop of rage and heartbreak now fevering and spreading like Norah had never felt before.
Her breaths were heaving, half-mad, and falling beyond the scope of her control.
A strange itch ruptured on the werewolf's jaws and had begun wringing in her mouth. She screamed, tears pouring down her face and shuddered away from Wes's dead body, realizing that the moment before was terribly, horribly real, and that she had been a hand in this.
If she would never have contacted Wes via owl post and given him an update, the Death Eaters wouldn't have been able to torture him for information on how to find her. Wes would still be alive right now if she'd not been so selfish. The tears poured relentlessly down her cheeks.
Ollie's heart threatened to explode from his chest as he helplessly watched Norah's torment. "Grandmother!" he cried, aghast at the psychological disturbance on poor Norah's face. "Stop this! Please!" he roared, nearly going insane with his need to help Norah get to safety. Even if he could no longer help Wes, he could still save his girlfriend. But Yaga was not listening to Ollie.
She merely turned away from the man, who'd drawn his wand, and turned to look in the direction of the werewolf.
"No! M—Miss Yaga, please! Don't!" Norah screamed and could only writhe against Augustus Rookwood and Greyback as the pair of men approached her, with Rookwood holding a dagger.
The scream that escaped Ollie's lips was hair-raising. He couldn't just stand idly by and watch the witch he loved suffer.
He'd kill every last one of them in this room or die himself before allowing his girlfriend one more split second of anguish. Yaga was going to have to kill him to stop him now.
They had all better hope they killed him, because not one of the Dark Lord's followers was going to leave this dining room in one piece.
Blood was in his ears and roaring in his eardrums, leaving his ears filled with a horrible, fatigued ringing. His only purpose was getting Norah to safety. In a flash of reflexive movement, Ollie drew his wand against the men still holding their wands at him.
With an expert flick of his wrist, he removed the wand hands of both, allowing a surge of anger to course through his veins as he was sure he could feel his blue irises darken in color, almost black, as he allowed Dark magic to consume his entire being.
He hated this aspect of himself as he spilled their guts on the follow through movement, the red crimson liquid staining the hardwood floor as the men fell to a crumpled heap by his boots.
Whirling around on his heels, Ollie proceeded to grab his grandmother by her left shoulder, grasping the old bitch around her thick waist, holding her close to him with his right arm.
Ollie gnashed his teeth as he pressed the tip of his wand with his left hand. She would serve as the human shield for Norah.
"Order them off of her, you filthy bitch!" Ollie demanded of his grandmother. Baba Yaga merely said nothing, eyeing her grandson challengingly, as though daring him to make a move.
When his grandma did not respond, Ollie let out a low warning growl from deep within the confines of his broad chest.
He pressed the tip of his wand tighter against Baba's throat. "Make them let her go and stop or I'll cut out your fucking heart." He shouted, insane with worry for his girlfriend as he heard Norah scream again and plead with one of them to let her go.
Greyback and Rookwood stood fast in place, holding Norah. He brought his wand so deep into Baba Yaga's skin that his grandmother let out an audible gasp of pain and surprise, afraid that taking in a breath would prompt her grandson to make good on his threat and slit her throat right here where they both stood.
"Move away or your leader's blood will stain this fucking floor," he shouted, every single word spat with utter venom. Yaga gave her men a motionless affirmative, understanding that Ollie in his growing temper was simply not making an idle threat now.
Still maintaining an iron grip on Yaga's waist, Ollie turned his efforts towards the men. He located the bastard who'd shoved Norah to the ground so harshly when he'd first dragged her in.
He raised his wand and pointed it steadily at the man's throat. "Sectumsempra!" he bellowed, watching in immense satisfaction as a steady stream of crimson flowed from the column of the Death Eater's throat, before the man even had time to draw his own wand out of its holder. He'd bleed to death slowly, aware of all that was happening around him as he slowly faded away.
Norah crawled slowly out of the way, her strength fading from her, as Ollie embraced the darkness of his own heart, the causation of which was his father's abusive upbringing, only this time, instead of trying to shove it away and deny his background, he welcomed it.
Cherished it, in fact, as he became a killing machine, taking on the swarm of Death Eaters while still maintaining a firm grip on his grandmother to ensure the bitch couldn't escape.
They rushed him, yet the Legilimens' anger and fervor met each one of their advances. Defeat was not an option.
He wielded his wand as though the weapon were a part of him, dispatching the men easily with a few flicks of his left wrist.
"Oliver! You—you let me go right this instant!" Baba Yaga screeched like a banshee at the top of her lungs, terrified from the flashes of green light thrashing around her. Ollie ignored her.
Finally, when the dining room stood empty save for the three of them, Ollie pocketed his wand and switched his tight grip back to his grandmother's hand and tugged on a fistful of her grey hair.
Each time she squirmed, his grip tightened even further until the man practically threatened to scalp the bitch where she stood.
Ollie knelt in front of Norah, yanking Yaga to the ground behind him. He reached out with his arm for the witch to take it.
He could hardly bear the mistrust that Norah eyed him with through bitter tears streaming down her cheeks in gentle tracts as she shrank away from him. Her face had paled and turned an interesting shade of green. She looked like she was going to be sick and seemed unable to tear her gaze away from poor Wes.
Something was wrong, something more than his leaving her. He silently vowed to find out what had stolen her faith in him. However, now his only thought was getting Norah out of here.
"Norah, please," he whispered, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone. "Baby, I—I know I was wrong, to—to treat you this way, but we have to go. There's…there's nothing more you can do for Wes, he's dead," he told her softly, hating that she flinched. "Please, Norah, let me help you." His blue eyes were brimming with tears as he implored the wolf to take his arm he had offered.
It was her apprehension and fear that kept Norah almost rooted to her spot on the hardwood floor. The blonde witch sat there for a moment of uncertainty and hesitation that broke Ollie's heart. All he wanted was to take the wolf in his arms, to kiss her again and promise that he would never leave her side.
However, he was quick to recognize she was extremely fragile. Her delicate condition seemed not just physically, but mentally as well. He was going to have to be careful with Norah.
"Please," he begged again. "Your life depends on it," he demanded, his blue eyes silently begging Norah to take his arm.
Needing to keep a firm grip on Yaga, he continued to keep his left arm outstretched in the hopes of Norah taking hold of his arm. Norah blinked owlishly at him, finally tearing her gaze away from Wes's lifeless body, her chest undulating with a pressure that vented off a choking sob in her throat that she tried to fight off, but it was futile. Wes was dead, because of her, and now, the Dark Lord's forces was sure to hunt down Ollie for this massacre.
She wanted the security, the feeling of caring for him again, the trust that had grown between them before the vicious truth had come to light that she had done this for a man now dead. She swallowed down hard past a lump in her throat as she looked at Greyback's lifeless corpse, blood stemming from his thick throat.
She made up her mind then and there to try to depend on him now as he had once done the same with her, even if she knew she would regret it later. With shaking fingers, Norah took hold of his forearm, her long fingernails digging into the material of his thick black sweater. She knew she needed to find a way out of here, and her mate may be the only help that would come for her.
Her heart was secretly thrilled to have Ollie so close by her side once again, but Norah knew she wasn't going to be so quick to forget what Baba Yaga had told her downstairs in her cell in the repurposed wine cellar that served as a sort of prison down there for interrogations and holding cells for the Dark Lord's prisoners. She would go with him, but she could trust no one.
Ollie carefully steadied Norah as she stood on shaking legs. For a moment, he merely looked at the blonde, thanking Merlin and whoever else was up there in the heavens that she'd been brought back to him alive. Then, before his resolve could fail him, he wound his arms tightly around Norah and walked as quickly as he dared out of his family's dining room, not bothering to look back at the bodies and massacre left behind in the wake of the aftermath of his rage, continuing to drag Yaga by her arm.
He cautiously stepped out into the hallway that led from the dining room, with Norah tucked safely in his gentle, tender grasp.
Meanwhile, Yaga continued to thrash helplessly behind him. Ollie turned his head sharply to survey his seething grandmother.
"If you cry out, you filthy bitch, then I'll pin you here to the wall and leave you to bleed out. Fucking shut your damn mouth," he promised her vehemently, hissing his words through his teeth.
Ollie violently turned away from his grandmother and murmured a prayer of thanks to Merlin that the only others they ran into along the way were a couple of Yaga's house-elves, easily scared off by the scene and afraid of both their temperamental mistress and master.
Ollie knew all too well to think that for a moment, the house-elves wouldn't send word to others like Lucius Malfoy or maybe even Snape to let them know what had happened. Perhaps even the Dark Lord himself would pay a visit.
It was this last thought that made him quicken his pace, trying to go as quickly as possible to get within a safe Apparating distance to take Norah to Grimmauld Place. Though he himself was no longer welcome there, perhaps he could plead their case to Sirius to get the damned stubborn man to reveal the location of Remus and Dora's new cottage, as their Secret Keeper. Tonks and Lupin Ollie knew that he could trust Norah around the two of them. He knew that with each step forward they took, he was risking their capture.
This was more than enough time for one of the Brennan family's house-elves to send a message either to Malfoy, the Lestranges, or even Lord Voldemort himself. Ollie watched Norah carefully as they made their escape through his house, vigilant for any signs of physical distress.
Her breaths came sharply as their quick pacing and her condition of barely able to stand up on her own two feet after such a vicious beating, made their path that much more difficult for her to traverse, but he and she could not Disapparate until they reached the edge of the woods near his property's estate.
His grandmother had put up a number of countermeasures and protective enchantments once he was home to prevent his escape, along with constant monitoring. Ollie knew each step and breath she took must have been agony for Norah in her current condition. He let himself breathe a sigh of relief as finally, the skies above their head were ahead of them as they stepped out through a side door, near the woods.
He let go of his grip on Norah and pulled his grandmother around to face him.
His blue eyes were burning, seething with a rage that neither woman had seen there before, and it frightened them both.
"This entire time, you've kept Norah in our cell." His entire body shook with venom and rage as he addressed Baba. "You looked me in the eye and lied," he hissed. He was shaking with hatred. "You're no grandmother of mine. You were going to kill her! You let her best friend get murdered right in front of her!" he rasped.
She was no longer a family member of his. No longer his grandmother. She was the vicious monster who had stolen away Norah, and who had not only wanted to take her life, but had gotten that other wolf, that Wes, killed in front of her.
Gnashing his teeth together in rage, he grabbed Yaga by the face, his fingernails digging into her gnarled and ancient skin. He turned the old stooped over bitch around to face Norah's form.
"Look at her," he growled, his tone clipped and demanding as Norah stood quaking in silent fear beside the pair of them. He held Baba Yaga's gaze to meet Norah's tear-filled bright blue eyes. "This is the woman that I love!" He screamed at his grandmother. "I was a fool ever to throw her away," he raged, bristling at himself through gritted teeth as his body ravaged with shaking sobs. "She is where my heart belongs, not here in our home, and certainly not with you, you filthy old bitch."
He paused to bring his gaze tenderly up to meet Norah's, his voice calming to match the blonde wolf's soothing effect on him.
"My heart's been yours, and it always will be, Norah, love," he vowed, speaking directly to Norah now and Norah alone. Somehow, someday he would make Yaga pay for what she did to Norah and her friend, Wes, but not today. For now, he had to get Norah out of here to safety and get her medical help, and quickly.
"Oliver, think about what you're doing," Baba pleaded, attempting to dissolve into the tears that always got the bitch what she wanted from him. But it wasn't going to work on him.
Not like that, not anymore. Ollie felt something ugly within himself snap as he allowed his boiling temper to take total control. "SHUT UP!" he roared, blue eyes flashing indignantly as he glowered at his hunched-over form of his grandmother. "Shut your fucking miserable mouth, you wormy little bitch!" he yelled, his hoarse voice a stream of pure hatred as he brought his hand up and loosened his wrath across his grandmother's sagging cheek, knocking the old witch to the ground.
Norah let out a tiny gasp and jumped back as the weathered crone crumpled unconscious.
"Come on," Ollie pleaded as he took Norah by the hand and led her out into the sunshine, further stepping over Yaga's unconscious form on the way. He didn't even realize until he saw Norah cringe that the bright rays of the sun were a sight the werewolf and witch had not experienced for months on end now.
The light was excruciating and blinding to her eyes that had grown accustomed to a dark moldy cell in his family's old cellar.
"Close your eyes, Norah," he murmured in a loving tone as he guided her in his eyes as the pair of them made their way down an overgrown path. The pair of them didn't stop walking until they reached the edge of the woods that bordered along his property.
They paused for a moment to allow Norah to catch her breath. She rested against the trunk of a gnarled old pine tree, finally able to view her new surroundings. Her mind was reeling, not only from coming so close to Death's clutches just now, but also what she had witnessed inside with Baba and Ollie. And poor sweet Wes… She swallowed down hard as her face crumpled.
She'd spent so long a captive, she wasn't sure in this exact moment how to feel. Almost nine months in that cellar, they'd kept her. For just a moment, however brief, the werewolf allowed herself to imagine that maybe the things Baba Yaga had told her down in the cellar were lies. Maybe Ollie…really did love her?
The faint memory of a smile flitted across her bruised and battered face, remembering the night together they had shared.
He seemed to care about her now, if judging by the way he held onto her arm and was shooting her worried little glances was any indication. But she wished she could be sure.
"Are you ready?" he murmured when it seemed like Norah had finally caught a breath. He never once took his gaze off her eyes as she looked. Ollie held out his hand for Norah to take. She began to accept his invitation, not sure where he planned to Disapparate with her, but she decided for the moment to go along with whatever he had in mind and trust the man that she had mated with months ago.
However, as she took a timid and faltering step in her mate's direction, a sharp twisting pain contorted through her stomach.
She winced and doubled over as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept through her. Ollie was by her side in an instant, bracing her against the pain.
"Norah, baby?" he murmured, whispering into the shell of her ear as he pulled back slightly to study her face. "You're white as a sheet. Are you feeling sick?"
Norah nodded as a sheen of sweat started to throng along her brow.
"I—I thought it was just a stomachache," she whispered. "but now…" but before she could finish, a sharp, shooting pain shot through her midsection. "Ouch!" she cried, letting out a guttural moan of pain and clutching her stomach, doubling over.
"Norah?" Ollie cried, worry worming its way into the pit of her stomach. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he felt so helpless, all that he could do was offer her his hand and try to hold her until whatever was wrong with her stomach subsided. "Norah, you have to talk to me, sweetheart. I...I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong. What's—what's wrong? What's going on?"
In reply, Norah groaned loudly through gritted teeth and sank to the ground on her knees.