Recovering by Blood and Hate

[Alena Wulf]

"I won't fail you."

"I know." Alena smiled wearily, watching as her Lieutenant started to leave. "We set out for Oslo at 08:00. That will give us roughly 9 hours of sunlight to slaughter every Undead thing in their Norwegian base of operations."

Watching Pablo's reaction as she mentioned Lucia, the Werewolf Mother considered his words. She honestly wasn't concerned whether the Hybrid took part in the conflict or not. In fact, Alena welcomed the opportunity to beat the girl down and humble her once again. When she got her claws on Lucia, the girl would require months to heal. It was then that Alena noticed she'd been gritting her teeth and clenching her fists at her sides so tight her knuckles had turned white. "Yes. Convincing Lucia to stand down would be the best option." After a quick moment, Alena added, "In fact, it would be wise if she remained out of my sight until the Vampyres are quelled."

The Hybrid would always be her daughter. Nothing could change that fact. As such, Alena would always care for the girl and some part of her would always love her; but gods be damned was she angry with Lucia right now. Her love was not often gentle on the best of days, and it felt like the Lycan Mother would severely lose her temper with the girl if confronted with her in the middle of a fight.

After experiencing the most painful birth she'd ever had in all her years, Alena had kept the babe with her in Sweden. Raven had not been there for Lucia or Alena, so the Werewolf Queen had named the child using the naming conventions of her home country, Rome. As the girl was born, Alena Wulf had smiled. Szandor was the first to hold her, and Alena faded into a sleep with such hopes for the youngest daughter of the War. Lucia was not the first child bred from Raven and Alena; there were other Hybrids, but her birth had been the most painful and she ended up being the last of Raven's spawns.

As the young girl began to speak and walk, the late Vampyre King and Alena agreed the girl would flourish more under Raven's watch. In Raven's last years, this was one of the only things the two leaders agreed upon. So it was with a heavy heart that Alena said farewell to her daughter. That was the last time the Mother of Lycanthropy saw Lucia for 8 years. Yet Szandor seemed to take the girl's absence worse than she.

Szandor had taken Lucia in from the moment the girl had life. He'd fought and killed for her, as he had for Alena, and it had been Szandor who'd saved the Hybrid's life the night Victor betrayed Raven. Last night, Alena had lost everything she'd had left. Her lover for millennia had been killed due to her own inaction, and her daughter, having witnessed Szandor's death, took sides with his killer. It was as Dane had promised almost two years ago...

Alena lifted her head to the early morning sky and howled deep and low, full of sorrow and rage. From around her in the forest and Den, she could hear the voices of her Pups, joining in the howl as they heard their Alpha cry out; a show of unity, and she knew: she was not yet alone.

[Alena Wulf]

07:45

Slowly, over the horizon, the sun began its lazy ascent into the sky. The residents of Stockholm, however, would not see the morning light for some hours to come yet, as the rain had started up once again. The sky was covered in grey clouds as water fell from above onto the Werewolf Den and the surrounding city. The light downpour had been going steady for over an hour and showed no signs of letting up in the near future. Yet the rain could not stop the Mother of Lycanthropy's plans for today. She'd lived in Sweden long enough to become accustomed to the wet weather. There was nothing in Heaven or Hell that would stop her from sinking her teeth into the Vampyre, Dane's, throat.

After talking with Pablo, Alena had spent much of the morning, alone, in the forest, away from the noise of the Den, away from the prying of her subjects. By their very nature, Werewolves were social creatures; pack animals that thrived in groups. Alena, herself, especially during the first centuries of her life, had always been surrounded by her Pack; her lovers and children. She'd always had that support and network of love. Her initial Pack had dwindled significantly over the millennia. It was true that Werewolves mated for life. Though Alena was a bit of an exemption to the true meaning behind that sentiment, she had been with all her lovers for life. For their lives, to be exact. All of the men who'd earned her love throughout the centuries had died. All except Geoff, who'd taken it upon himself to resist his true nature. The nature of the Beast within.

The rest of the early morning, Alena spent intentionally alone, mourning for her deceased consort, Szandor. After dealing with the scum in Oslo, she would pay a visit to Sparta to give her respects to the dead in a more formal way.

As the first few drops of rain fell from the sky again, through the branches to the forest floor, the Wolf Mother found herself fall to her knees. Alone, deep within the woods, Alena buried her fists into the ground, letting the moist earth embrace her forearms. She pushed, hard into the earth, all the rage that threatened to consume her. This was the most subtle way she felt she could express herself with the time she had. Her true desires would have lead her into the city, away from the Pack that needed her...

Emerging from the forest a short time later, Alena stood for a moment out in the open, allowing the rain to cleanse her body of all the filth of the last nights. Blood and dirt, sweat and tears all washed away under the sky's purifying drizzle.

Walking around to the front of the mansion, Alena summoned Rhenn to her. At her orders, the young Lycan arranged to have three sedans brought around to the front of the Den. It was roughly a six hour drive from here to Oslo, but the Lycan Queen felt she and her team would have the advantage this way. Driving in day seemed more reasonable to her than trying to inconspicuously fly a small plane over a city that had recently changed ownership. Either way, Alena felt her arrival might be anticipated, but this way the convoy could split up if needed; not that she was terribly concerned with being stealthy.

After completing his tasks, Rhenn rejoined Alena in the rain, holding an umbrella over his Queen and offering her a blanket. Waving the blanket away, Alena crossed her arms, looking down the driveway as she heard the sedans driving up. Rhenn had gathered nine capable and able-bodied Werewolves to accompany Alena to Oslo, insisting that he, himself, would go as well. With Pablo, that made 12 Lycans attacking the Vampyre force in Oslo. She'd done crazier things in the past, this couldn't be too bad. The difference between then and now, was that she'd been running with a familiar Pack back then. While some of the nine were 'trusted' underlings who Alena knew had worked their way up from the bottom, one or two were here simply to gain favor with their Queen and to earn their rank quickly. Those Lycans would either meet with a quick death, or they'd earn their scars the hard way. This wasn't a game... That fact had often eluded Alena in the past, but she'd had a rude awakening by Dane's hands.

Over the years, the Mother of Lycanthropy had learned more than her fair share about her enemy. Vampyres, too, were social creatures, although not in the same way as Werewolves. Vampyres were social creatures the way smoking was a social habit: cancerously. The Blood Suckers liked to use 'politics' as a means to reach an end, in a vain attempt to feign Humanity. What this typically lead to was prolific backstabbing and a constant undermining of leaders within the coven. Alena much preferred the more straight forward approach of challenging for rank through physical combat. Each race was almost a product of their environment, it seemed. The older Vampyres seemed to strive and manipulate their way into high society while the older Werewolf had probably tried to leave it behind all together. Certainly Alena would have abandoned the Pack and society herself, if she hadn't felt some sort of responsibility for her race and the war. Though, to be honest, Szandor was much of the reason why she'd stayed after Raven's death.

The rain continued to fall steadily to the ground as the nine volunteers for the day's raid began to gather. "Four to a car." Alena motioned to the sedans, rain dripping from her hair and down her body.

Rhenn took this opportunity to flick the blanket open and wrap it around Alena's shoulders, "Mistress," she spoke, "May I have the honor of riding with you?"

Subconsciously pulling the blanket tighter over her shoulders in the grey morning, the Mother of Lycanthropy motioned for those gathered to wait in the cars, out of the rain. "I want you driving me, Rhenn."

[Pablo]

"Explosives? Check. Firearms? Check. Knives?" Pablo's hands fuddled around with the leather saddlebag that sat on his lap. Searching the interior for anything sharp and pointy. I would've sworn I packed them a minute ago. The lycan hopped off his bed, dropping to his knees to look under his bed. Nothing, but dust. Someone should definitely clean this when I'm away. He thought to himself. Pablo's room in the mansion was rarely in use. Even before earning a high ranking official the young lycan was usually on the move. For many of his kind the den was a permanent home. To him it was more of a sanctuary, somewhere were he would always have a room or bed to sleep in. There was too much of the world to explore, and he was too immortal to not take advantage of the fact he could go almost anywhere. That was not to say there were never extended periods of stay. Sometimes he would visit for a couple weeks, maybe even a month or two if many of his friends were about. And of course there were his superiors. Not once had Alena's summons gone unanswered.

Standing he begun to quickly pat his hands around his body. Were there on his coat? He slipped a hand underneath the flaps. Quickly wincing and slowly retracting as he bled from a small cut on his fingertip. "Ow." Pablo said to himself. How could he be so forgetful? He sat back down, massaging the side of his head. It was this bloody headache. Somehow it had only gotten worse since London, and that was sans his silver chain. Thinking straight was difficult when it felt like his brain was constantly exploding. At least his spirit was still high. His meeting with Alena had done him wonders. The chance of avenging his comrades, and redeeming himself in the eyes of the pack mother had him near giddy. Then hearing that Alena wished Lucia be spared from the upcoming battle was enough to make his stomach flutter with butterflies. He did at times feel some resentment towards his Queen's daughters, she treated him like a damn blood bag for one, and most of this ordeal would be non existent if she had sided with him against Dane; yet he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. It wasn't fair to put the blame on her. He knew how hard it could be to restrain one's urges, they all did, it came with being a lycan. The beast inside was ever nagging, struggling for control. You could either embrace it, learn to dominate it, or be consumed by its rage. He always imagined the urge to feed had some similarities. As to her poorly made decisions he largely chalked that up to her upbringing. Clearly she wasn't normal, but neither were her parents to say the least. Taking that into consideration and the fact she was shunned by the pack it was no wonder- "Thud":. His head snapped in the direction of the door. The light thud of someone gently knocking broke his train of thought, and in an instance his headache came back roaring like a jet engine.

"Pablo, if you are here I would like to speak with you." A low deep voice called to him from outside his room; thick with an ever present francophone African accent. "The twins say they saw you enter, but you seemed to be in a hurry and they did not wish to be of a bother to you." The voice belonged to Okello, a member of Pablo's squad. His would be second in command if the majority of his den wasn't slaughtered. He sighed, the last thing he wanted was to run into any of them. There was too much to say, too much to explain and not enough time. Reluctantly and sluggishly he made his way to the door, slowly opening it. In his door frame stood Okello. Tall, muscular, and imposing as always. A slight smile formed on his usual stern and stoic face. "I am glad to see you are wel-" He paused mid-sentence. "Alive." That seemed like the more appropriate word.

"We must speak." Without invitation Okello stepped into the room, his eyes immediately darting to the bag that sat on Pablo's bed. "Where are you going? You require rest, your eyes are red and your face is pale." He rested an arm on his superior's shoulder.

"Sorry no can do." Pablo ducked underneath Okello's thick arms brushing away the contact and attempting to slip around his friend. "I'm leaving with Alena to deal with the vermin. They're probably already waiting for me."

"Friend you are not well. When was the last time you slept?" He slid in front of the small lycan and crossed his arms.

"I'm fine, I'll sleep on the ride there. Thanks for looking out though."

"Ahh, I should have known you would volunteer. I will go as well then."

"Once again, sorry. Alena's trying to keep the squad small and I'm pretty sure all the slots are full."

Okello glowered, it was clear to him his sire was not acting like himself. "I spoke to Pete, he did not know you had returned. It is not like you to avoid your friends. If you do not wish me to come then I will not. I have always done as you've said."

Pablo flinched at the mention of one of his closest friends. No, that wasn't like him at all. Usually he would be ecstatic to see Pete. There was simply too much weighing him down at the moment. "I know, I simply don't have the time. This is something that I have to do. I'll speak with you all once I return."

Okello nodded, he wasn't quite happy with the answer, but he knew how stubborn Pablo could be at time. His mind was set and there was no changing it. "Then leave now. The twins are on their way, and you know how much they like to speak. But before you leave, let me tell you one thing." Once again he rested his arm on Pablo's shoulder, this time grabbing firmly. He lowered to look Pablo dead in the eye. "Your time with them must not have been easy, but you shouldn't be ashamed. What happened was not your fault. You have nothing to prove to us. We are happy knowing that you are safe. Many of us thought we had lost you. My sister prayed for you every night. Do not go and die on us now. We need you."

Damn you Okello, making me have second thoughts. He smiled weakly. " What have I said about worrying for me? It's a waste of time. Besides I'll be with Alena, we'll be fine unless they have like, ten thousand vampires." Pablo turned away, and scampered to his bed. Throwing the strap around his neck he lifted his arm near his face and glanced at his bare wrist. "Look at the time, I'm running late."

Okello nodded, stepping aside he watched as Pablo sprinted out of his room and down the whole way. Something in his gut told him this would not bode well.

Stepping outside the mansion Pablo studied the group of lycans that had gathered. Some of the eldest were among them, a few of the older lycans of the century, and then a couple new bloods. He had expected to be the youngest among the squad, but this was fine. Some of them were worth a thousand vampires each, and Alena only was worth at least triple of that. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach start to flutter again, and at the sight of his packmother his head ache was quickly vanished. At one point he had fought alongside most of them, but never all together. This would be a day worth remembering. He jumped the stairs down to the driveway, casually sliding beside Rhenn. If he was driving Alena, then that was the car he wanted to be in.

"Not bitch seat." Pablo said grinning, aware that they were only four per car. He was already antsy, and they hadn't even left yet. Time to calm yourself. He nodded to the voice in his head. This was an important mission, and even though Alena knew that despite his light demeanor he took this kind of thing seriously, he wished to show the rest of the pack he was aware this isn't a game. He put on a somber face before getting into the sedan and sitting behind the passenger seat. The young man watched as the fourth lycan; Lucan, one of the elders of the pack joined them.


"Young one, it pleases me to see you among us." Lucan reached out to scruff Pablo's hair. Immediately making the young lycan smile again.

[Alena Wulf]

"Lord Pablo," Rhenn bowed slightly to acknowledge the young Lycan as he approached, opening the rear, passenger side door for him while still positioning the umbrella over Alena. As Pablo and Lucan got into the car, Rhenn turned his full attention back to his Queen, "Mistress, all of the Werewolves I've recruited for you for this mission have assembled. On your word, we are ready to depart."

The Wolf Mother nodded absentmindedly, staring down the driveway through the rain and fog. "Let us leave, then." Breaking herself away from the fixed point she was staring beyond, Alena turned to face Rhenn, nodding once more, this time with more awareness.

The young Werewolf led her around to the driver's side back seat, opening the door and holding out the umbrella until Alena Wulf was completely inside the sedan with the door closed. With everyone sitting four to a car, all accounted for, the drivers took off. With Rhenn driving, Lucan sitting beside him and Pablo and Alena in the backseat, their sedan was the second car in the train.

Reclining against the back of the seat, Alena held the blanket snug around her with one hand. The heated seats in the back of the sedan did wonders for the Lycan Mother. Normally, the rain and cold didn't affect her so, but this morning she felt chilled to the bone.

As the train of sedans navigated their way off the Werewolf Den property, through the streets of Stockholm and to the highway, Alena pressed a button on her arm rest, causing the partition between the front and back seats to close. The act was purely for show. Lycans had some of the best hearing in the world; if Alena was truly concerned about what she was going to say, she'd just use the mental link. She wasn't worried about any of the Pups in this vehicle hearing what she wanted to say. From where the Mother of Lycanthropy sat relaxed in the backseat, she could hear the radio being turned up in the front cab; a sign of respect, more symbolic than practical.

Watching as rivulets of water pattered and fell down the windowpane, Alena was quiet for quite some time after the car turned onto the E18 to Oslo. For a while, it just seemed like the Werewolf Queen closed the separation to keep to herself, but as she looked out the window, she spoke. Her words were quiet, like she was talking to herself, but she knew damn well that Pablo sat beside her. "Knew it couldn't be. Everything was so... perfect at first. For a while, it was like Hope. But I knew... something. It couldn't last. Gods, I tried though. He was so charming; I never knew why he picked me... I suppose, though, he knew what I would become. He knew all along." Picking at the hem of the blanket she was wrapped in, Alena continued to drone on. It didn't occur to her that she'd only ever spoken of any of this before to Szandor; she just felt like it needed to be said out loud. "And I suppose I'd always known the danger I was in for loving him. None of it seemed to matter for those first couple hundred years. Raven was... is guiltless in my eyes. Yes, he plummeted the two races into millennium long war, but he had to. How could he not? The Devil knows his own; and Raven was born and raised off the Beast's teat. They put him up to it. They'd had these plans the moment I was born - Before I was born. How do you say 'no' to such sweet temptation? And he was... The world will never again know a love so strong and infernal. Even after everything he did to me, to Us, I know... There was part of him that fell uncontrollably for me. I don't think he ever intended for it to happen. No one ever does..."

[Pablo]

Being referred to by his status unsettled the young lycan. Not was it only strange to hear it coming from a lycan with a few decades of experience on him, but the title felt undeserving. Who exactly did he lord over? He mentally and physically shrugged the thought away as he sat in the car, promising to himself he wouldn't try to dwell on it too much. Although it occurred to him, the only reason he was getting in the sedan was because of his lordship. To avenge the fallen lycans who would have seen him as their leader. The thought immediately vanished from his head as Alena sat beside him. Pablo smiled ear to ear. He had expected Alena to call shotgun. Well not actually call shotgun, but at least to be seated there. Once again his smile faded. The gravity of the situation was not lost on him. They were on their way to a battle, some of them were driving to their deaths. There would be losses tonight, he could feel it.

As the cars began to roll out of the driveway Pablo fidgeted in his seat. The anxiousness in him was already building. He could not wait to taste The Vampire King's flesh no matter how foul it may be. The mental image of Dane writhing in his mouth making a pathetic attempt to escape brought him actual joy. That though was six hours away, six hours of him sitting mostly still in a cramped car, by lycan standards of course. It was in truth fairly spacious, but after his time in London he was less fond of confined spaces. Shifting again, he grabbed his bag and dropped it in front of his feet. However, in less than a minute he deemed his lap to be the better spot for his things, before finally placing it in between Alena and him. Pablo for a moment stared at Alena who staring at the window didn't seem to notice. She appeared quite comfy underneath her blanket and a little spacey, though maybe she was focused on the battle ahead. That was what he should be striving for. Okello did say it looked as if he hadn't slept in a while, maybe a little rest was in order. He rested his ahead again the window, staring out beyond the droplets and to the Scandinavian countryside.

Sleep did not come for the young lycan. Instead he found his mind straying to about a day ago after his escape from Dane's mansion. "She'll be the death of you." Xhel said, his voice low and stern as he watched his cousin stare out of the plane's window. "Huh, who?" Pablo was more than willing to play the fool, and if he hadn't been glued to the window watching the world pass by below him he would have seen that did not sit well with his company. The hunter glared at the lycan, almost spitefully. "Alena, the lycans, their war." For a few seconds there was silence. "Oh yeah, probably." Xhel's hand balled into a fist. The urge to lash out was high. If it had not been for his training at the monastery he would have struck him. "Don't joke. You nearly died. Szandor did, and you're not even a fraction of his age. What chance do you have?" Xhel didn't need to see Pablo's face to know that stung. "They're my family." The lycan said somberly, finally turning away the from window. He stared down at his feet, never making eye contact. "I thought I was your family." The hunter grumbled back. "You are. They're my other family, and right now they need me." They'll be the death of you. He wanted to repeat the sentiment, but knew it would be to no avail. "Why? Some of them are monsters. Alena's a monster. You're nothing like them. " At some point in time Pablo would have agreed with him; Alena was a monster. That somehow had changed over the years. "She's not... It's not her fault. She's had to live with a beast within her for over two thousand years. You don't know what that's like." Pablo said, hunching forward holding his hands clamped together between his legs he finally turned his head to face Xhel. "Well neither do you." The hunter replied bluntly. "At least I can begin to understand."

Alena's soft voice freed Pablo from his train of thought. He glanced at Alena and then to the partition, befuddled as if he'd been broken free of a trance. When had she raised that? It didn't matter as he quickly devoted his full attention to the pack mother. He sat up, turning to face her as she spoke. Why was she telling him this now? Her relationship with Raven was something that Pablo spent more time pondering than he'd like to admit. Most of it was speculation as he had little to nothing to base his thoughts off of. "I always thought you were already a lycan when you had met." He mumbled quietly mostly to himself. It was not uncommon for him to blurt out his thoughts. Something wasn't right. Not just with Alena. Raven's death had shaken her, it was not surprising that Szandor's had as well, it wasn't like her to be so sentimental. Yet, that's not what had him on edge. Something else was wrong he realized as his hand hidden underneath his sleeve reached out to Alena. His actions weren't his own. They seemed like him, something he may do, but it was never an active decision. It felt close to a dream, like he was a passenger in his own body. Aware of his movements, of his words, yet completely void of control. He grabbed Alena by the shoulder and pulled her close to him, into an embrace. He could feel as he inched the knife hidden up his sleeve into his hand as it went to wrap around her waist. He wasn't embracing Alena, Pablo realized, he was restraining her. "Nobody chooses to be a monster." He whispered into her ear holding her tightly as he jutted the silver knife into her back, stabbing her again and again.

[Alena Wulf]

"No. No one ever does..." For a moment, her silence felt like the weight of the world. It sat heavily in the air, threatening to smother her. She'd been looking through the window, staring beyond the late-winter scenery of Scandinavia passing her by, into space.

As her monologue paused, Alena's vision focused. In the windowpane, her reflection stared back at her. Cold blue eyes looked out from under dark hair; her features were young, but she looked different. Instead of the bold confidence the Mother Lycanthropy often exuded, a shadow seemed to cover her eyes. Stress and sorrow darkened the skin under her eyes. Huddled tight in the blanket Rhenn had offered her, movement in the glass caught her attention. Pablo appeared to be reaching toward her. Loosening the blanket to let it fall down her back onto the seat, Alena tensed, preparing for her Lieutenant's embrace. His actions, she figured, were meant as a gesture of compassion, not to be taken as an intrusion. Alena, while not the touchiest person with many of her Packmates, was not intimated by contact with them.

A sudden chill sped down her spine as Pablo grabbed her shoulder, moving his other arm around her. Something felt off. Maybe it was just the way Pablo's reflection seemed to grimace in the window as he held her firmly. Was it just the rain fall distorting her Pup's expression in his reflection in the cloudy morning, or...?

Pablo's whispered words seemed appropriate somehow, even though she didn't have time to fully comprehend them before a fire surged through her back. Silver! the unmistakeable bite of the precious metal stabbing unexpectedly into her body made the Werewolf Queen cry out in a snarl. Alena pushed against Pablo with her pinned arm, trying to knock him off balance. She bared her naturally protruding fangs, leaning over and biting Pablo's neck hastily, ripping away a chunk of flesh.

Snarling even through her bite, the hot sensation of silver being driven into her back would not cease. She felt increasingly warm as the hateful metal drove into her. Alena brought her other arm around, grabbing firmly at her Lieutenant's arm and neck, reaching for his eye. Whatever had gotten into him, it didn't matter. He was Pack; family. Whether he'd betrayed her to the Vampyres, he'd been brainwashed somehow, or he simply felt he was doing the right thing; it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was fighting. Righting back. Resisting. Existing.

She needed to disarm him somehow. In her Human form, Alena was stronger than your everyday Mortal. Yet the way Pablo had one arm pinned to her side was pretty thorough. It was clear she was getting nowhere trying with her free hand. With all the force she could put behind her, Alena drove into Pablo, pushing hard with her shoulder into his chest, shoving him over to his side of the seat in hopes his grip on the knife would loosen enough. "Pablo! Alena growled out loud as well as mentally, trying to reach her Lieutenant.

Something warm and wet seemed to be falling down her back readily; a liquid fire that seemed to be sapping much of the Wolf Mother's strength. This was not how she was going to go out, though.

[Pablo]

Pablo watched a prisoner in his own mind and body as he attacked his Queen. He tried desperately to call out to her, to Rhenn, Lucan, anybody but it was to no avail. His mind was closed off to theirs, he was only beating his head against a brick wall. "You're no better than them." He said, his voice spiteful as he continued to plunge his knife into Alena's back. Her attempts to fight back went seemingly unnoticed. Even as she took a bite out of his neck he showed no signs of pain, not a single flinch or snarl. The young lycan showed no care for his own being. He had a sole purpose at the moment; to deal as much bodily harm to the pack mother as much as possible. He held onto her tightly, lodging the blade into her. The damage was done, she could barely fight back. The ability to shift by now should have been unavailable to her, as certainly she would have done so. Her last attempt to push him free of her proved successfully, but as he fell back snatching his bag close to him, he could see for Alena it was too little too late.

"TRAITOR!" Lucan roared from the front seat as he lunged through the partition. Like Alena's bite Pablo completely disregarded the shards of broken glass that cut into him. The elder lycan's hand grasped around the younger lycan's throat choking him against the backseat. Pablo's hand quickly shot into his bag snatching out his gun. Even after becoming a lycan Pablo hadn't given up his 'hunter' training. In fact becoming what he was trained to killed had only improved his talents. His enhanced senses and strength only made him a better gunman. Showing no hesitation he let loose firing into Lucan's chest. Three shots and the elder lycan fell back letting him free, but it seemed Pablo wasn't finished with him. Holding the barrel to Lucan's forehead he fired again, blasting off a chunk of his skull and decorating the car interior with blood and brain matter. He turned his head to Alena grinning twistedly. "He always scoffed at me for using human weapons. Ironic isn't it, that they would be his end." The young lycan had not forgotten about Rhenn; who slammed his foot on the break, for a moment he had been caught between helping his pack mother and assuring they did not drive off the highway into their deaths. Pablo was launched forward, slamming his head against the front seat. That though did nothing to deter him, he simply fired through the seats. Rhenn cried out in pain, gasping before falling limp against the wheel of the car making the vehicle constantly honk.

"You were foolish to not see this coming to think we would let an abomination like you exist." He said grabbing another knife from his bag and stabbing Alena in the leg, assuring that she wouldn't escape. Hurling his bag into the front seat he wrapped his arm around his Queen's waist and dragged her into the front with him. He gave Rhenn a powerful kick launching him out the door and taking his place as the driver. Glancing in the rear view he could see other car pulling over to help. They wouldn't have the chance though as he slammed his front on the accelerator leaving them in his dust.

[Alena Wulf]

The Wolf Mother growled hatefully as Pablo's attack continued. From deep within her chest, the snarl that came out was not Human. Unfortunately for Alena, those were the only shreds of the Wolf she could summon up.

Lucan's familiar voice crashing through the barrier between seats gave the Queen hope. All he had to do was disarm and detain Pablo, then this-whatever this was-could be dealt with. The blood loss, the throbbing pain driven into her back the way only silver could, caused the Pack Alpha's vision to blur and lose focus. Leaning closer, uneasily toward Pablo, Alena outstretched a hand toward the young man's face, as if to caress his cheek.

Gunshots rang out, loud and prominent, and the Lycan Mother's ears rang as each shot hit its mark. She could feel it in her soul, deep within her Being; Lucan was no more. In a moment of visual clarity, Alena looked over to the front seat where her Packmate was sitting just in time to see Pablo squeeze off his last shot. As the remains of what had been Lucan's head splattered onto the windshield, Alena clenched her outstretched hand.

Living with the Wolf for almost three thousand years, Alena was able to summon it on the slightest whim. Yet no matter how she concentrated, what ancient triggers she called upon, how the Beast raged on within her, she could not bring it out. Picking a point to focus on, the Wolf Mother looked at her outstretched hand, curling her fingers, willing the Change to happen. The Wolf screamed in her head, growling furiously, clawing desperately at her sanity to break free and end this madness. It had been an age since Alena was restrained from Shifting, and never before had she been so assaulted by Kin. The inability to Change right now when she needed it was slightly terrifying. In a last ditch effort to shift, she shouted. She could feel it so close, but the Wolf remained just below the surface. The silver in Pablo's knife was clearly a very pure form of the metal.

As Pablo stabbed her once more, this time in the thigh, Alena laughed, cackling loudly. Up until that point, the Queen of Lycanthropy had not given Pablo's words much thought, but as he called her an abomination; she lost it. Something about the accusation struck her, and she laughed and laughed as Pablo pulled her into the front seat.

Slumping against the remains of Lucan's body, Alena's laughter turned into quiet giggling before finally trailing off into silence as consciousness slipped from her. She was losing a lot of blood. The last thing she recalled before falling under was gripping the knife in her leg firmly, her face, warm, resting against Lucan's bloody chest. She couldn't tell if she dreamt that she called out to the lead car, or if she actually had.


Noticing the vehicle Alena and Pablo were occupying swerve and come to an abrupt halt in the rear view mirror, Anton, the driver of the first car in the train pulled a frantic 180. Rhenn! What is your status? Probing for Rhenn's mind proved futile; Anton watched as the Lycan he'd tried to reach was kicked out of the car he'd been driving.

"Fuck. Hold on boys." Not that he needed to say anything. The other three Lycans in the car watched with a morbid fascination through the windshield as Pablo assumed the driver's seat, pulling something else to the front with him. Half the front window of the second sedan was plastered with blood and chunks of what had been Lucan's head; it was a little difficult to see who or what exactly Pablo pulled up to the front. What the hell was Pablo doing?

That's when Anton felt brief contact with Alena, My Queen, what is happening? No response; he could still feel her, she wasn't dead yet. Accelerating quickly, tires squealing, Anton sped toward the car Alena was in, just as Pablo kicked the car he'd hijacked into gear, flying down the highway right passed his Packmates

Jerking the car into another tight u-turn, Anton put his foot to the floor, speeding to catch up with Pablo and Alena. He hoped the last car in the train would be able to help Rhenn, but things were not looking good.
As Anton began to catch up to Pablo's car, the Lycan in the passenger seat hastily undressed, throwing off his seatbelt and rolling the window down. "Drive closer; I'll take care of this."

"Die fighting, Brother." Anton wished his Packmate luck, steering the car closer to Pablo's. The Werewolf in the passenger seat squeezed through the window, bracing himself until the two sedans were close enough. The two black cars inched closer together, then farther apart as Pablo sped up and Anton moved to avoid bumps in the road. Finally, the moment came. Grant jumped, shifting into the Wolf mid-air, landing heavily on the roof of the car Alena and Pablo were occupying. Roaring loudly, the Lycan drove his claw down, breaking the window of the driver's side door, grasping blindly for Pablo until he found the young Werewolf's jacket. Digging the claws of one paw into the roof of the sedan, and the other paw holding firmly to Pablo's shoulder, Grant tried to pull the young Lycan up and out.

[Pablo]

Pablo watched as the lead car made a sudden u-turn. Apparently someone had managed to warn them. That made no difference to him, and it showed on his blank expression. Reaching over to Alena he grabbed her hand and yanked out the knife in her leg that she gripped tightly. There was a squirt of blood as he pried the weapon from her and placed it on his lap. That wasn't all he would be needing. Once again fumbling through his bag he pulled free a frag grenade. He glanced in his rear view. Anton's car made another u-turn and they were closing in on him. Instead of accelerating he slowed, if they were to chase him all the way to Oslo he might as well rid himself of the problem now. He glanced at Alena's wound. She was still bleeding profusely and at this rate she would probably die if her healing didn't kick in. He didn't want her dead, no he wanted her alive, or rather needed. Placing the grenade in the cup holder he reached for the other knife in her back. Grabbing its hilt he wiggled it free from her and tossed it into the back seat. Again blood sprayed from her wound dousing his hand. It was of little concern to him. Though blood still trickled down his neck from Alena's bite the gash was already healing. Alena was stronger than him. Certainly she would survive this ordeal.

Pablo began to lower the window as Anton steered his vehicle close to his. The lycan once again grabbed the grenade and pulled free the safety pin. He clenched the handle tighter and smiled over at his pack members as they closed in. They were making this far too easy for him. As the lycan shifted Pablo slipped free the handle letting the grenade cook in his hand for just a second, and once the werewolf jumped over to his car he hurled the explosive in his hand through the window into the other vehicle. "Trade ya!" Pablo laughed loudly as he watched his pack members scramble to deal with the threat. Anton dove from his seat on top of the grenade limiting the explosion, but taking his life in the process. His car swerved off to the side crashing into the medium. That should have been enough to show the others they shouldn't follow him. Now he only had one lycan sized problem to deal with and was home free. Letting go of the wheel Pablo grabbed his knife once the lycan found his shoulder. He dug the silver blade deep into his paw. The lycan howled in pain and let him go for just a moment. Giving him enough time to find his gun and blindly let loose a hail of gunfire into the ceiling and grab hold of the wheel to swerve the car left and right. Pablo was unsure if his shots were fatal or not, but none the less the lycan went tumbling off into the side of the road. One last time he glanced into the mirror to see if there were any pursuers. The rear car was pulling over to aid his fallen comrades. Pablo slammed his foot on the accelerator driving off into the distance.