The Wolf of the Wilds

The Long Road to Redemption Pt.4

Before we begin the final part of this story, I need to give a warning. This part contains (non-explicit) SUICIDE and CHARACTER DEATH.  Seriously, this part was very difficult to write, so don't read it if you aren't comfortable with that kind of stuff. (Also, make sure you've read the previous three parts.)

The younger of the two was asleep against her chest and the other one was holding her hand with a sweaty grip. "My feet hurt," he grumbled, tugging at her jacket.

"It's not too much further," she replied, tightening her grasp ever so slightly.

The arm that was supporting the young girl ached from her weight, but it meant little to her; her mind was going so fast it was a blur. The repercussions of her actions could get her killed. What if the courtiers had fled? What if someone had seen her with the children? What if? What if? What if?

Ahead, Herra's door came into sight and Helena didn't know whether she was relieved or afraid. She was about to defy her people's values, everything her parents had tried to instil in her from a young age. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hear the blood rushing in her ears, and her throat was numb, almost dry.

"Why are you staring at the door?" the boy asked, gaping up at her with his grey eyes and a face free of pain. Looking at him sent shooting pangs of remorse through her chest and she shook her head. He looked too much like his parents.

"Don't worry. I was just thinking," she replied gently. Letting go of his hand for a moment, she rapped the door in quick succession. "Please open it, please," she whispered to herself, glancing around the deadened street.

They stood there for a while. The night time was colder than usual, and Helena felt the girl shiver slightly. Just as she was about the knock again, the door swung open and light rained down on them. The hulking man from before looked over them, his initial hostility turning to confusion as his eyes found the two small people with her.

He turned away for a moment, the building's heat leaking out onto the street. "Herra, it's that Angor Wolf from the other day," he called.

"Let her in! Is she alone?" A familiar voice yelled back.

"No Boss, not exactly!"

"Wonderful!" Came the reply, churning the nausea in Helena's gut.

Once upstairs and basking in warmth, Herra knelt before the pair. The younger of the two had been roused by the noise and she was rubbing her eyes blearily. Her brother was perched beside her, glowering at Herra like a vicious guard dog.

"Do either of you two like chocolate blood?" he asked with slow words and a gentle tone.

After considering him for a time, the boy nodded and glanced at his sister who was still yawning. "Both of us like it," he replied.

"Good. I'll get you both some and once you drink it all up, you're going to go to bed. Does that sound good?"

All the reply he got was a pair of mumbled affirmations. He left them for a short while and returned with two small cups of a steaming dark liquid that still seemed large in comparison to the little duo. They drank away, somehow managing to get blood everywhere, but soon they were safely tucked away in bed in the next room.

The adults congregated in the office space, under the dim light of the hearth. Helena was still flighty around the crime lord and his associate, so she stuck to the room's edges before finding a warm spot beside the fireplace to bask in. A tension filled the air, no one daring to break it.

"We didn't think you would come back," the other woman in the room admitted eventually. "We hear so much about the Angor being vicious monsters; it's surprising meeting one that's willing to spare someone."