Scabior waited an hour before dragging himself to Fenrir's office. He didn't know what to make of what had happened earlier. He was well aware that the girl was special, but...this, a female werewolf? This was beyond what his mind could cope with.

The Alpha had run off as soon as the girl was off of him. He'd literally fled the scene. Scabior didn't know what to make of that, either.

As he neared the office door, he hesitated. Was it really prudent to talk to Fenrir now? Perhaps he should let a day or two pass. Perhaps the Alpha would be gone by then. He'd spent a lot of time away during the summer, researching the girl situation. He'd been to Leipzig's library, which contained the best-documented werewolf section in the world, according to most scholars. Alas, it had all been a waste of time. There were absolutely no recorded cases of anything even remotely similar.

The door was closed. Scabior couldn't remember it ever being closed before. He took a deep breath and knocked twice, as softly as possible. Fenrir must have heard him approach, anyway. No reply came, and Scabior waited another minute before turning away.

The door opened before he could take five steps. "Get in," Fenrir commanded in a low growl. He radiated anger – and therefore danger. Scabior obeyed, and wondered if he would get out of the office alive.

He waited for the Alpha's sharp gesture before taking a seat in the opposite chair, but Fenrir didn't sit down, so Scabior was forced to remain standing. Fenrir leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his massive chest, glaring at the window, his back to Scabior.

Scabior kept his eyes on the floor instead of the desk, just to be safe, even though Fenrir was facing the other way. The men had tried, to no avail, to salvage the carpet, following last month's…torture session. It couldn't be called anything else. Scabior had been taken aback when Fenrir had announced that he was going to harm the girl, announced it as if he were telling him that he was going to take a stroll in the woods. He didn't know why it had perturbed him so much – he didn't care about the girl, not in the least – but the fact that the Alpha would resort to such methods was…disturbing. It was something Voldemort would do.

And…well, admittedly, she was just a girl. His babunia had been adamant that he must never, ever hurt a woman. It was low and despicable, she used to say. It was a sin – the old woman had been very religious. Scabior felt sick at the thought of what Evey must have endured, given the state of the carpet.

He frowned slightly. He'd never thought about her that way, by using her name. Well, it was hardly relevant at the moment.

"What did she tell you?" Fenrir demanded without preamble. "I know you stayed behind."

Scabior shifted uncomfortably. "She didn't say much, boss." Now was not a good time to be too familiar. "Just the usual. That she would see you dead."

Fenrir snorted. "Like hell she will," he grumbled. "What did the others say?" he went on roughly.

That was the part Scabior dreaded the most. He could feel sweat dripping down his back. He must reek of fear and concern. He swallowed hard before answering. "They, um… Well, that is…" He had to pause to take a deep breath. Better to get it out of the way. "The men defer to her like they do to you. They seem to think…she's the Alpha now. Well, not exactly," he amended quickly as Fenrir turned his head toward him, eyes blazing with fury. "I think they consider her like your...equal? Or your female counterpart. I don't know, boss. It's complicated. They don't know what to make of it and, frankly, neither do I." At least they weren't taking orders from the girl – she had tried that already, the little minx – and everyone was avoiding her now, because they didn't know how to behave around her anymore. Thankfully, she wasn't taking advantage of the situation to mess with the rest of the pack. She wasn't as dumb as she looked. Or, more likely, she was just too nice. She genuinely seemed to care about them - some of them, anyway.

"Unsinn!" Fenrir snarled. "She's a girl, for fuck's sake. She can't be Alpha. She's not even part of the pack! Hell, she's not a proper werewolf! And my equal? That's ridiculous. Are they bloody stupid?" He exhaled furiously and started pacing. He was rambling. Scabior had never seen him so…out of countenance before. "She caught me by surprise, that's all. How could I have expected her to turn into a damn werewolf? I would have overcome her easily. I chose not to. What if I'd hurt her? I would have hurt myself in the process. There just wasn't any point. Don't they see that?" he demanded imperiously. "Bugger them. And fuck her. Ich habe es satt," he added vehemently. He knocked his chair over in anger, then turned his back on Scabior again, staring out the window.

I've had enough. Scabior was at a loss for words. He'd chosen not to overpower the girl? That didn't sound like Fenrir at all. He'd never seen him like this. He looked almost…helpless, for all his rage and frustration. This was bad. But what could Scabior do about it?

"Get the fuck out," Fenrir ordered eventually. Scabior scrambled away without hesitation. If he'd been in wolf form, his tail would have been tucked between his legs. "And you'd better make damn sure everyone remembers who their Alpha is," he added as Scabior reached the threshold.

Bloody fools. Hadn't Fenrir taught them better than that? A female Alpha! Now he had heard it all. But it didn't matter; Scabior would make certain that they behaved adequately around the girl, and that they didn't take orders from her – although the very idea was ludicrous. Taking orders from a girl. Honestly.

No, truly, Fenrir wasn't worried about that. They would come to their senses, once the initial shock had faded.

He couldn't believe that the girl was stronger than him. How was that even possible? Well, to be fair, nothing that had happened in the last couple of hours seemed possible. Fenrir couldn't imagine a worst development to their already complicated situation.

In other circumstances, he would seek advice among his own kind, but he couldn't let them know about Evangeline. He didn't trust any of them, and Grigori had disappeared after they'd banished him, decades ago.

Fenrir was used to being accused of every single violent crime linked to a werewolf attack, but in reality, the one perpetrated against the Kanes had been one of the few he'd actually committed. He never bit to kill, only to turn. Barca and his minions didn't particularly mind that the younger Wolves go on murder sprees, no matter what he claimed, but he did care about anything that might expose them to the world. The girl could be the source of all sorts of troubles, without proper supervision. And, of course, Fenrir would be held accountable, if trouble arose. For all intents and purposes, he was her maker, and what a disturbing thought that was.

He hadn't expected the girl to suddenly blurt out the Ancient's name. That wasn't at all what Fenrir had intended to do and, truth be told, he didn't think it mattered at this point. Voldemort would certainly pay good money for this information, but it would have to wait. The most pressing matter was to come up with a method to sever his connection to the girl - it was likely what allowed her to transform. Fenrir had no intention of disposing of her, not if he could avoid it, but he had to find a way around the obstacle. Leipzig's Bibliothek had yielded no useful information. He wasn't sure where to look next. North America? Yes, perhaps. The Natives possessed werewolf-related lore that couldn't be found anywhere else. It was worth a try, in any case.

And when he returned, hopefully with a solution, he could finish what he'd started that morning. The girl was supposed to be more than a thorn in his side, Fenrir was convinced of it. There had to be a point to her existence. And the only thing he could think of, the only thing the Wolves could possibly need, was a female capable of bearing their children. She had to be the missing link. She would bring forth a new generation of werewolves, and Fenrir would be the herald of a new era. It would be just like what Grigori had dreamed of, all those years ago.

The werewolves would run the world, with Fenrir at their head.

Evey remained in her cell for a few days, getting out only to fetch her meals. Everyone avoided her. Everyone seemed terrified of her, even Scabior, although he concealed it better than most.

Now she knew what it really felt like to be a freak.

She hadn't run into Greyback since the...incident. The Alpha had deserted the night after their latest encounter. What a coward. But it was all to Evey's advantage, of course. She was on her way to discredit him entirely in the eyes of his men, even if she couldn't appropriate the pack altogether. She had attempted a sortie that first day, but she'd been brought back by guards who had appeared extremely reluctant to touch her. She had toyed with them a bit when she'd realised that, half-hoping that they wouldn't dare to physically bar her way, but Scabior had finally intervened, dragging her back inside the perimeter. She had briefly considered turning into her new alter ego, to see how he would react to that, but what was the point? Even if she made it out of the prison, she didn't trust herself to Apparate out of the woods – provided that she could Apparate. She didn't know how far the ward against magic reached. For all she knew, it encompassed the whole reservation, and only Greyback could remove it at need.

Perhaps she could turn into a werewolf, make her way out of the forest using her enhanced senses, find a phone and… No. If she was being honest with herself, she was afraid of transforming again. She'd had perfect control of her wolf form that first time, but what if she didn't? What if she suddenly went berserk? She couldn't risk that. And besides, who would she call? They had no phones at the Headquarters. She could find a wizarding family with a chimney, sure, but what were the odds of finding such an opportune household in the vicinity? And what if they were partisans of Voldemort?

No, Evey thought. The time for escape has not come, not yet.

It would come soon, however. She could feel it.