Love how fast you guys are reviewing!

Making my day! :)

I'm trying to make the chapters longer, but it doesn't always happen for me lol.

There will be some that are long, some that aren't, but I'll try :)

Thanks for the reviews, and I hope ya'll enjoy this as well.

Alaric was alone when I entered the study.

Which was strange.

"Where are the others?" I asked.

He looked over at me, "I have Enzo, Stefan, and Mason running the property line.

Tyler and George are downstairs, digging up some information I need...but I wanted to speak with you."

I nodded, "I wanted to talk to you as well."

Alaric reached over and grabbed the morning newspaper.

"It says here that a some kids spotted a few wolves last night. Now, I doubt they'd still be alive if they'd encountered the Mutt."

I sighed, leaning on the arm of one of the sofas, "It was us. I got caught in the open. One of the kids grabbed a bottle, Damon reacted. But nothing happened. Sorry."

He nodded, "I understand. But we have to be discreet. There are bounties on wolves in these parts right now. The more sightings the people think there are, the worse it'll get."

"I know," I assured him, "It won't happen again...I'm going home."

If he was surprised, he hid it well.

"I've done what you've asked," I hurried to say, "I tracked the Mutt down."

"I asked you to help us catch him," Alaric insisted softly.

"And I'm asking you not to put me in that situation," I shot back.

He sighed, "Elena, this Mutt will kill again."

"Maybe. But you'll find him," I reasoned, "And the pack will put him down. I know he deserves it, that those women deserve the justice, but I've realized that if I help, if I'm a part of this, it's never going to end. And the first time was bad enough."

I didn't have to explain what I meant.

Before I'd left the last time, Alaric had sent me after a man by the name of Tobias Fell.

A human who collected rare artifacts and sold them to the highest paying customer.

Tobias had crossed our radar by claiming to have found proof of a werewolf's existence.

Usually humans were wrong, but occasionally, they got lucky.

It had been my job to investigate the situation.

To keep us off the grid.

I'd met with Tobias in a motel, under the pretense of being a dealer of rare finds for rich clientele.

He told me that he had proof, the arm of a wolf.

Sure enough, when he'd opened his briefcase, there was the werewolf's hand, half morphed into a paw.

Tobias explained that he'd cut the hand off himself, during the wolf's Change.

It was sickening, but I played my part.

I offered to pay any price to leave with the hand that day.

He declined.

Instead, he planned on hosting an auction for it, and the winner would get to accompany him back to the wolf's location, to hunt it down.

He wanted to question the werewolf, find out if there were more like him.

I tried to reason with him.

He wouldn't listen.

So I'd reacted on instinct, and ripped out Tobias's heart.

Damon had come to dispose of the body, slightly impressed at the lengths I'd gone to.

He didn't quite get why I was so upset.

It was then that I knew I had to leave.

Alaric touched my shoulder, and the memory faded.

"Tobias Fell was putting us all in danger," he told me, not for the first time, "You did what you had to, for the Pack."

"But that's my point," I argued, "He was a human, Ric. And I killed him. Even worse, I ripped into him like he was a present under the tree on Christmas morning, and it was easy. I lost my humanity that day...I can't become that thing again."

He stared at me, "That thing is what you are, Elena. Like it or not."

I shook my head, "It doesn't have to be. It's not the me that I want to be. I want to be the person I am in New York. A normal person, with a normal life, not a killer."

"We need you," he was almost pleading, but his eyes held no expectation.

He would let me leave.

"You don't," I swallowed, "Now, please...can I go?"

He dropped his head a little, but nodded.

That was good enough for me.

It took me less than ten minutes to run upstairs and throw my things back into my bag.

Less than two to call a taxi service.

I would leave this all behind soon enough.

I shrugged on my jacket and picked up my bag.

It was a bit of a walk to the gate, but I wasn't going to wait around for the others to come back and try to talk me into staying.

It would just make things easier if I was gone before they returned.

I'd forgotten that Damon wasn't with them.

"You can't leave yet," he growled, as I passed him in the foyer, on my way out the door.

"Watch me," I shot.

"We aren't finished," he insisted.

I stepped off the porch, and he followed, "You and the others will find the Mutt. You don't need me."

"That's not what I meant," he argued.

I was about to explain to him just how little I cared about what he meant, when Mason came jogging up the drive.

His usual playful demeanor was gone.

"We need to get Alaric, and the others," he huffed, "You all need to see this."

I paused, and Damon's brows furrowed, "You find something?"

Mason nodded gravely, "We found something, alright."

His tone was the only thing that made me drop my bag and join them as we ran the property.

Near the east border, we found the others, all looking pale, and huddled around something small.

The air had a familiar rotting stench.

Someone was dead.

As Alaric approached, the guys stepped aside, and I caught a glimpse of the victim.

It was a child.

A boy, no older than eleven.

Bile rose in my throat and I covered my mouth.

Even Damon, who usually couldn't give a damn about human life, looked sick.

Blood littered the ground, oozing from the torn neck and stomach of the body.

Definitely a wolf kill.

I had to look away.

"Who would do this to a child?"

"That's what we have to find out," Ric told me.

"The Mutt left the body on our property," George spoke in a rough voice, "He's trying to send a message."

Alaric's eyes were hard, "Well, we got it, loud and clear. This Mutt dies. Tonight."

Agreement rang out through the Pack, and Damon's hand slipped into my own, squeezing.

He was asking me to stay.

I gave a little nod, and he relaxed.

This death changed things.

The women were sad, but this...murdering an innocent child, and leaving the body on Pack territory...it proved that there was no limit to what this wolf would do to get our attention.

"He's escalating," I murmured.

The others looked at me.

"The kills," I explained, "First it's a random woman in our town. Then another, on the outskirts of the property. Each death is getting closer and closer to us. And now a child. On the property. This is too direct, and he's getting desperate."

"I agree," Ric nodded, "We need to find-"

He was cut off by the sound of barking, soon followed by male voices.

We all stiffened.

The human hunters, looking for the wolf.

Mason moved forward, "Someone, help me with the body."

"What?" I shot.

"If they find it here, the heat's coming down on us," he rushed.

Alaric shook his head, "No. It'll be worse if they find us trying to hide it."

He was right, if course.

The dogs already had the scent.

They were too close for anything to be done.

Seconds later, the hunters could be seen through the trees.

Four men.

"Up ahead," One shouted.

They ran, a hound on a leash leading the way, only stopping when they spotted us.

Then they saw the body.

"What the hell did you people do?" The younger looking one spat.

I wanted to roll my eyes at his implement.

Sure, blame the outsiders, simply because the Pack liked to keep to themselves.

"We had nothing to do with this," Ric assured the men, "We just found him."

"Sure," the guy mocked.

I felt Damon tense, his hand tightening in mine.

I looked up at him, and my mind flew into a panic.

We'd all forgotten an important thing.

Damon's habit of letting instinct rule everything.

His other hand was clenched at his side, and the heat of his fury scorched across the distance, to the men.

The other day when we'd heard the hunters on the property, Damon had been furious.

Boiling at the thought of them.

After all, his territory had been invaded.

Yet he'd been able to control it because he hadn't actually seen the trespassers.

He'd been forbidden to get close enough to them to see them or even smell them.

Alaric wasn't an idiot.

He did this to keep Damon from reacting as his instincts demanded.

So that even if he had come upon them, Damon would have had enough advance warning to get his temper under control.

But this was different.

He hadn't known they were on the property today.

He hadn't heard them until it was too late to prepare.

The trespassers were no longer unseen guns firing in the dark, but actual humans.

And they were standing right in front of him, live targets for his rage.

I tightened my hand around his, "Damon-"

The rest of the Pack turned at my words.

The "Oh shit" look crossed most of their faces.

Damon dropped my hand, roughly, focusing on the intruders, "What the fuck do you all think you're doing here?"

One of the men, taller, with a gun strapped to his back, stepped forward.

"We're hunting for the wild dogs that killed those girls."

"And this kid," one of his buddies commented.

The man shot us a dirty look, "The coroner will determine that."

A low growl emanated from Damon's chest, "Are you implying that we had something to do with this? Because we aren't the ones sneaking onto another person's land at all hours. Or did you miss the fucking signs on the way in?"

He snarled the words, turning on the man, who was clearly the strongest of the group. "Or maybe trespassing is too many damn syllables for you?"

"Damon," Alaric warned.

But Damon wasn't listening.

I knew that.

All he could hear now was the blood pounding in his ears, the need to defend his territory screaming through his brain.

He stepped closer to the young man, who inched back against a tree.

"This is private property," Damon snapped, "Do you understand what that means?"

The threat was evident in his voice, and the other men straightened, ready to intervene.

"Damon, enough," Ric tried again.

He was ignored.

I knew this could get bad.

But I also knew distraction was the best solution in dealing with this much testosterone.

I focused on the dog, who was still barking like mad.

I could hear the others arguing.

"There's a dead kid, we don't have time for this!"

"Come on, man."

"You all need to leave."

"Like hell!"

A gun being cocked.

I bared my teeth at the dog, who seemed to recognize that I wasn't completely human.

He went crazy.

Growling, snapping, lunging.

It pulled everyone's attention, as the dog ripped free of it's master and jumped at me.

Enzo and Tyler, the two closest to me, lunged forward.

Damon used the opportunity to grab the man's rifle, and plowed the wooden stock into the guy's nose.

He fell to the ground, while his friend grabbed the dog's collar, dragging it back.

It fought itself loose and took off.

One of the men ran after it, the others were pulling the guy, who now supported a bloodied nose, to his feet.

"Next time you take the safety off your gun," Damon spat, "I'll give you a reason to use it...and if that bag of fleas so much as nipped my girl, you'll have more than a busted nose to worry about."

He threw the gun to the ground then, and turned to me.

Enzo and Tyler let him through, the concern evident in his eyes.

"I'm alright," I promised him, as Alaric suggested that we all calm down and focus on doing right by the child.

George pulled out his phone to call the sheriff.

Damon blocked it all out, the entirety of his focus on me.

He inspected my arms, then pulled me into his chest, keeping his back to the hunters.

Somehow, I knew this was his way of keeping himself in control.

So I let him have it.

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