A/N: The character of Gianaval introduced in this chapter is based largely off James Huggins' character, Gianaval, leader of the Grey Wolves.

Chapter 1:

Admonition

Wise golden eyes overlooked the entirety of the great manor known as the Rainsworth house. A massive palace of a house of ivy-laden brick and white shutters, topped with smoking chimneys, and surrounded for yards in all directions by vast, lush gardens – or, at least, they were lush in the spring and summer and autumn. But now, in the depths of a cruel winter, white blanketed any and all things in a crisp, glimmering layer of clean snow. From leafless trees to slanted roofs to grass trapped in its wintery slumber. And in the light of the rising full moon, it made for an absolutely breathtaking sight indeed.

But. That was not his reason for being here tonight. His watch was nearly done. And his relief would be arriving soon.

A twig snapped. His ears twitched backward. But he had smelled the approaching male long before any physical evidence had emerged, and his black nose still trembled as the scent grew stronger. He didn't turn as the younger wolf's presence drew alongside him.

"Koba," said he, with a small nod in his direction. The old alpha sat back on his haunches, and turned his ears back toward the property they stood over. The younger did the same, taking in a deep breath through his pink nose as he did so.

"Gianaval, sir," uttered the white wolf, icy eyes turned downward. He lifted his gaze then to the manorhouse and, in particular, the distant figures who sat on the snow-laden balcony, enjoying the night air.

"You have yet to master the skill of silence," said the elder wolf, turning toward him. Koba ducked his head, flattening his ears.

"Yes, sir… I-I'll get it soon enough."

It wasn't difficult to detect the lack of assurance in his words. Gianaval chuckled. "Indeed, you will."

Then, all amusement was gone, replaced by hard determination. "But for tonight, it is your first watch, and you need to know what to look out for."

The young wolf straightened at the seriousness of his voice, and nodded. "Tell me."

"The dark ones have increased their patrols as of late. For three days, now, they've been attempting to reach the house… It's only a guess, but I think they're after the mother. It wasn't enough to make her ill… they want to get rid of her. If they get to her, then not only will they harm her, but the daughter as well. And the grandmother. In one fell stroke, they could push the family out of the conflict indefinitely." Gianaval nodded toward the balcony. "I've been keeping close eye on the girl… and that manservant of hers. It's a relief to have him about… It makes our jobs easier."

Koba studied the balcony. "And so… my job is what?"

"Keep the perimeter secure. Keep the dark ones at bay, and sound the alarm if a greater force emerges. Do you think you can handle that, young pup?" The old wolf cast Koba a smirk once more, a smirk which morphed into a genuine smile when the white one nodded firmly.

"Yes, sir. I'll keep them all at bay; I promise you that. No dark wolf is going to scare me!"

A hearty laugh escaped the grey wolf's barrel chest. "Good lad! Good, good. I leave you to it! Good night, Koba, my boy; I shall send you relief at dawn."

Gianaval stood and began his way back to their headquarters beyond the woods. He paused, and only once did his warm eyes turn back to Koba, who sat broad-shouldered on the ridge of the hill, surveying the area that was his to protect this night. And with a short nod, the old grey wolf continued on his way.

Koba was a brave boy. And stalwart, and quick-footed. But if there was one thing in which he lacked… it was, perhaps, strategy. He had a nasty habit of jumping into things impulsively, with no thought toward ill consequences…

~Guardian~

"Break…"

He turned a silly grin to his mistress. "Yes, Ojou-sama?"

He just barely managed to duck under that menacing paper fan of hers, and he laughed at the anger burning in her magenta eyes. Which, of course, only made her more angry.

"Be serious, will you?" she growled as she took another swipe at him.

He caught her hand, surrounding her fist with his to still her fan, and gave her an innocent smile. "You really shouldn't growl so, milady. It's very unbecoming."

Her face twisted in indignation, and she struggled to free her hand. "Stop it! Why can't you… Ugh, you never tell me anything! Do you expect me to be okay with that?"

The unnerving smile never left his face as he cocked his head to the side. "Yes."

Sharon continued to jerk in her attempts to get loose from his grasp, but, being physically older and stronger, it was easy for him to maintain his advantage… luckily for him. Becoming more frustrated by the second, she soon raised her foot for a nice stomp on his toe. He saw it coming, and stepped back so that her sharp heel clomped on the stone floor of the balcony.

Break glanced over at the three observers. Of course, he felt no embarrassment; Oz and Gilbert had witnessed such scrapes before, and Alice simply didn't care. And Sharon obviously felt no shame at her behavior, for she continued on as if they weren't there.

Finally, she stilled in her struggling, and stared up at him with a hard, fixed glare. He only started to think that things had perhaps gone a tad too far when tears began welling in her eyes. His grip loosened.

She detected it, and finally ripped her hand from his grasp, letting her arm fall limp to her side. She took several deep, soothing breaths as she kept her glare steady on him, biting her lip as if to muzzle herself. When she finally let that muzzle slip, it was when she turned on her heel to storm back into the room.

"Why don't you learn to trust people, Break?"

Said with such cold bitterness… It startled him into silence as he watched her whisk through the room beyond, slam her fan onto the tea table, snatch her cloak from the hook, and disappear through the door into the house's inner halls.

The remaining four sat in awkward silence for long moments after she had gone, each submerged in their thoughts of what they had just witnessed.

Break, himself, was in the midst of a subconscious scolding. He berated himself for that practiced mask of careless mirth. But… of course, it was his defense. An attempt to get her to let him and his own personal secrets be. It would seem it had backfired once more… But what grounds did she have, really, to intrude on those things he wished to keep hidden? He never wanted to reveal the extent of his deterioration to her… nor any of the deep, dark secrets of his past. Like the truth surrounding Glen Baskerville and the Children of Misfortune… No, she didn't ever need to know any of that. Couldn't she realize that he was trying to protect her from further pain? Sharon Rainsworth had enough to concern herself with, what with her mother being so ill…

The crunch of hard snow in the gardens below alerted him to human presence there, and his red gaze searched for its source amidst the shadows of a fading dusk. In the light of the silver moon, he caught sight of a cloaked figure walking the snowy paths past the barren hedges and flower bushes. By her walk, it wasn't difficult to tell who it was. Sharon often took walks alone to clear her head, much to Break's anxiety. He never liked when she was alone… when he wasn't there to protect her like he should.

"Boy… I don't think I've ever seen her that… angry." Oz blinked at him from across the balcony, Raven standing behind him avoiding Break's gaze and Alice sitting at the other side of the table, chewing on her fingers.

Break couldn't help but glare at the teenager, narrowing his eye in irritation. "Be quiet, you… annoying, uncute… brat."

He ignored Oz's own frustrated frown as he turned, and retreated into the warmth of the Rainsworth house. The thought just came to him, a tempting idea for a quiet night spent reading by the fireplace. He was about to give in to that desire – he was even heading down the hall toward the study – when a scream shattered the quiet winter air.