Hannah was running for her life.

As the cries from outside increased, Fenrik had leapt into action, shouting profanities at his panicking men and heading for the door. Distracted by the growing chaos, they'd both failed to notice the subtle change in his second-in-commands demeanour.

Slowly, like wax melting on a candle, Berrik's vacant expression had moulded itself in to a sneer of contempt.

Fenrik, his mind already focused on the fight to come, barked his orders to his second-in-command in a manner similar to the way a master commands an errant puppy. Behind him, unoticed by the mercenary, the muscles in Berik's neck pulsated with the effort of restraining himself.

As Fenrik's footsteps faded away and the sounds of shouting retreated into the distance, the giant mercenary had turned to look directly at Hannah.

With a growing horror she watched the glazed look in his eyes drop away as though it had never existed, leaving behind a glint of calculating evil.

A familiar throb asserted itself in the back of her mind as he shifted his position by the door, the strange purple swirls in his jet black pupils settling to focus on her every movement. Berrik hadn't been nearly as drugged up as Fenrik had thought.

“You're going to kill me.” It wasn't a question. She could see the intent in his eyes as he took a single step towards her. He held no weapon. He wouldn't need one. His fists would easily make a short if messy end of her.

He nodded anyway, a feral grin growing on his meaty face.

“Why?” she asked desperately, backing away until her retreat was blocked by the bed behind her.

He didn't answer, just pulled the neck of his tunic down slightly to reveal a small tattoo just below his collar bone. Three claws, tipped with red ink.

Her eyes widened. “You're one of them!”

He nodded, taking a step closer.

She shook her head in confusion. “But Fenrik isn't. I mean, you're his second – "

“Fenrik!” he spat, derision filling his slow deep voice. “Fenrik is a parasite feeding off our cause – ” He took another step, a hunger growing in his eyes as Hannah edged away. “ – A blight in His plan. Corrupting the faithful and stealing what should be ours.” He raised one hand towards her. “I have not been his in a long time.”

With a gasp she clambered over the bed out of his reach, trying to keep at least one piece of furniture between them for as long as possible. “Nothing you're saying makes sense!” she cried, trying to keep him talking as her eyes scanned the room for an escape. “Why kill me? Why now?”

“I have my orders,” was all he replied.

So, Blake and Fenrik do have something in common after all, she thought as his grin grew and he reached down to grasp the bed frame in one meaty hand. Who knew rogues could have traitors too?

A glint on the table caught her eye. In the confusion, Fenrik had left his knife behind.

Can I reach it in time?

You must, her mind told her firmly.

As though it were no more than a feather, Berrik lifted the end of the bed, tossing it up and away from them.

Berrik may have been quick, but Hannah had adrenaline on her side. Before the metal frame could crash into the wall, Hannah was moving - half-running, half-diving towards the table, she snatched the knife from its place of rest, tugging the point of the blade out from the splintered wood and twisting round to plunge the blade deep into the rogues thigh as he leaped towards her.

Howling in pain as the knife tore through his muscle, Berrik swatted her with one hand, the blow powerful enough to fling her out into the corridor, door and all.

Without time to think or even react to the blinding pain in her shoulder, she picked herself up and fled down the corridor and up towards the surface, closing her ears to the awful sound of tearing and snapping behind her.

The sound of fighting grew louder.

She whipped her head around, eyes falling on a huge barricade. The silhouette of an dusky black wolf stalked along top, occasionally snapping its jaws at one of the defenders launching missiles off the other side.

Fenrik.

Blake was somewhere beyond those camp walls. He had come for her, like she'd known he would. But he'd never breach the wall in time.

With a cry of despair, she fled away from the barricade, her only hope, losing her pursuer amongst the trees.

So she ran. As fast and as far as she could.

Her shoulder didn't feel broken, but it remained numb, rendering her arm useless as the shock of the impact tore through her body. She forgot the battle raging behind her. Her desperate flight had no time to contemplate any other danger as she plunged through the undergrowth, fleeing from the snarling jaws behind her.

As the sounds of fighting receded into the distance and the forest closed in around her, fragments of memory flashed across her vision. She’d run like this before.

In a desperate flight through evergreens and oak trees, her heart pounding with the rhythm of a non-existant driving rain.

Suddenly, the path between the trees cleared and Hannah found herself facing a colossal beast with blood on its jaws and a ragged wound on its hind quarters. The wolf's muscles strained under the fur, increasing his size to preposterous proportions.

Shit.

She twisted and ran to the left, losing sight of the rogue for a brief moment as she frantically pushed through thick foliage that clawed at her clothes, slowing her down and holding her back.

Get off, get off, get off!

With a gasp of relief she half-fell through the last of the entangled branches into a second clearing, only to realise with increasing despair that the open ground -- far from providing her with a swift escape route -- ended abruptly at the edge of an escarpment.

The sheer drop plunged down to a swift flowing river several feet below.

What a stupid place to put a cliff, she thought irrationally as she scanned the edge for a route down. Maybe I could survive the drop?

Her foot slipped and several rocks broke loose of their moorings, bouncing ominously down the cliff with an almighty clatter. The pain in her head increased as her rational side kicked in. Maybe not, she conceded.

She froze as, behind her, she heard a soft growl of pleasure that raised the hairs on the back of her arms.

The pursuing rogue pushed through the path she'd created, tufts of thick, grey hair snagging on the branches as it wrenched itself free.

Berrik stopped and scented the air, his eyes burning with a ruthless venom as it stalked her towards the cliff edge, baring his teeth in the closest approximation of a smile the wolf could manage.

Hannah was reminded of a cat that had already caught a mouse and now wanted to play with it.

He's hunting me, she thought.

The wolf began to snarl deep in its chest – death stalking closer and closer with every paw-step. As she stared deep into his coal black eyes, the rumble built to a crescendo she knew could only end with a strike she wouldn't be able to defend herself against.

“Blake, where are you?” she whispered. At least, she thought she did. The thud of her heart blocked out all sound, and she had no way of knowing if her plea had left her lips.

For an instance more horrible than she could imagine, Hannah couldn't move.

Just as he looked poised to strike, Berrik's eyes flickered to one side filled first with uncertainty, then irritation as the duel personality of man and wolf registered movement between the nearby trees. He turned back to his prey, dismissing the new arrival.

Hannah tensed, holding her weapon as though she had forgotten its existence, and began to back towards the edge of the cliff.

Perhaps I could jump to one side at the last second and send the creature over the edge, she thought frantically, her head throbbing with tension. Perhaps I'd get in another lucky shot and tear open a wound, this time in a more fatal spot?

Not while it's hanging uselessly by your side, her mind critisised.

She hesitantly raised the knife in front of her, eliciting an amused snarl from Berrik. He took another step forward.

As if out of nowhere, a stone whizzed through the air, cracking the wolf on the back of his skull. With a snarl, the rogue lost focus and spun towards the naked man sauntered out from between the trees.

*

In the shadow of the monastery walls, and surrounded by corpses, another beast faced off against a circle of wolves.

In the Alpha's sudden absence, it fell to the to Marcus to bring the drug-fueled rogue down.

"Why doesn't he shift?" Alex asked, his head tilted to one side as he watched Simon trying to find a way under its defences.

“I don't think he can,” Marcus said, looking over the behemoth critically. “His muscles are too over-developed. They'd tear.”

He can’t move his neck at all, his wolf, Akoni noted, drawing Marcus’s attention to the way the giant spun his whole body to face each warrior, his head barely moving.

The Beta's eyes narrowed. Akoni was right. Whatever the rogue had used to enhance himself, it was clear he'd overdosed in some way, the taut muscles restricting his full range of movements.

One warrior stepped too close and, with an astonishing speed, the rogue sent him flying with one blow of his weapon. The warrior’s body crashed into a nearby tree with tremendous force, where it lay unmoving in the rubble. Apparently, the lack of movement hadn't hindered the rogues deadly speed. Facing him head on would be suicide.

"I need to get behind him," Marcus muttered, scanning the wall. The rock had completely destroyed the fragile ladder, but the ancient stones had taken the full brunt of the impact and several of them had crumbled enough to provide a foothold up to one of the platforms.

“Distract him,” he called to his warriors, gritting his teeth.

“With pleasure,” Simon called back sarcastically as he dodged another swing. “And how would you like us to do that?”

“I don't know,” Marcus shouted, cursing silently as the rogues eyes followed him wherever he moved. “Improvise!”

“Great. Thanks. Very helpful!” Simon threw back at him, waving his arms above his head in a futile attempt to grab the rogue’s attention.

"I've got this!" Alex cried, and before anyone could stop him, he bounded into the centre of the circle, dancing around the rogue’s legs like an over-enthusiastic puppy and nipping at the thick ankles.

Marcus watched in astonishment as the rogue snorted softly and began to sway back and forth, lifting his feet high into the air and bringing them down again with a resounding thump on the dirt floor.

He couldn't look down either, Marcus realised. Alex had spotted what the Beta had missed. The chest was so ridiculously over-developed it stopped the chin short, forcing the rogue to bend at the waist to see the ground. By staying so close, as Alex weaved around the tree trunk sized legs, the rogue could neither catch him nor target him.

Instead, the rogue tried to stamp on him, the massive feet narrowly missing the flash of fur each time it passed by.

“Idiot,” Marcus sighed ruefully.

If he lands on him, the rogue will crush his rib cage, Akoni pointed out helpfully.

Simon stared in open mouthed disbelief at his Gamma, his mouth opening and closing as he uttered similar sentiments under his breath. The he frowned and reached for a discarded weapon on the ground. As the beast attempted once more to rid himself of the pest under his feet, Simon launched it towards him.

The steel bounced harmlessly off the thick skull, But it got his attention.

“Go, we've got this,” Simon told his Beta, picking up another weapon as the beast roared with frustration. It turned to the warrior and attempted to move towards him, only to be hampered once more by Alex tearing a strip of muscle from his exposed calf.

The rogue howled again and returned to trying to stamp the life out of the wolf on the ground. The other warriors circling the fight looked at each other and began to search for missiles of their own.

Marcus meanwhile had scrambled up the side of the crumbling wall, his axe held firmly between his teeth. As the rogue spun erratically back and forth, torn between the wolf ripping chunks out of his legs and the barrage of stones from the other warriors, he looked for a weak spot he could target. There! At the base of his neck where the muscles were fewer and therefore not as impenetrable.

Hovering just above the raging rogue, he took a deep breath and jumped, hammering the heavy iron blade into his opponents back with all his strength. The great feral beast writhed for a moment, blood dripping from the corner of its mouth before, finally, falling to the ground.

Marcus fell with him, landing with a solid thump on a pile of rubble nearby. He felt several of his ribs crack as his body hit the stone.

Ow.

Behind them, the last of the arches had crumbled, crushing anyone left within the perimeter of falling stone. As Macleiry and Asher emerged from the dust, a warrior up on the platform swivelled his head around and, in the absence of his Alpha, shrieked “Beta!”

Marcus gasped a curse inside his head as he struggled for breath.

What now?

He forced himself into motion, staggering to the highest point on the wall and heaving himself up the ladder to the top of the makeshift stockade.

His first reaction, as he studied the three rogues waiting on the other side of the arches was one of disappointment.

Is that all?

The realisation came to him slowly, however, that these three rogues all bore the same tell-tale signs of drug-induced modification as the dead behemoth below.

Alex scrambled up beside him, naked and just as bloody as his Beta. “Oh, you've got to be kidding me!” he exclaimed with a sigh of exasperation. “There's more of them?”

"How many of them are there?" Asher asked through the link, his view obscured by fallen rubble.

"Enough," Marcus replied cryptically. “This is going to take all of us,” he added out loud to Alex.

Blades won't work with this many, Akoni warned. And we're already injured... again.

I had noticed, Marcus said dryly, wincing as he jumped down from the platform in one, easy bound, shifting as he fell.

The two rogues closest to the western edge of the encampment began to advance towards them, their movements looser than the overdosed rogue on the other side of the wall.

As the Blackridge warriors broke though the gaps in the wall and advanced into the heart of the monastery, flocks of chickens fled in a flurry of feathers, running crazily in all directions and flapping futilely away from the wolves.

The whole west side of the ruins was in disarray, defences forgotten, tunnels abandoned and the collapse of the arches had completely destroyed most of the tents set up on that side of the camp.

More rogues appeared as quickly as their companions were cut down, materialising from a dozen different openings amongst the labyrinth of fallen walls and half-ruined corridors. Most ignored the invaders, fleeing instead towards the trees behind them and Marcus realised they were being methodically flushed out by the Blackridge warriors that had already lain siege to the tunnels.

Good. Less to worry about, Akoni snarled.

Alex leaped down beside him, shifting back to his wolf and organising his warriors with crisp authority. "Split up, don't let them get their arms around you..."

A dozen wolves surrounded the first drug-fuelled rogue, including the two Macleirys, but none of them could counter its extraordinary strength and speed.

The second behemoth ducked between two young warriors, who nearly brained each other trying to hit it, ripped open one of the scouts before he could bare his teeth to attack, then flung itself at a knot of warriors already injured after their battle for the wall.

Goddess, they're fast.

But it went down when an ancient sword in the hands of an old wolf struck clean between the shoulder blades, nearly severing its spine.

Samuel’s strength was failing, but he had fought in the Shadow Wars and wielded his weapon with a skill few could match.

The blow should have been enough to kill it, but astonishingly, the rogue continued to crawl forward – a trail of blood soaking the ground beneath it.

Samuel's lithe frame darted between two fighting wolves and took aim for a second time, this time his sword targeting the creatures neck. But, before his blade could fall, the rogue flipped over onto his back and thrust its claws upward, savagely impaling the old warrior with its dying breath.

Samuel slipped down onto the rogues body with a gentle sigh, his sword still clutched in his fist even in death.

Marcus let out a howl of fury.

The third behemoth took an injury in its hindquarters from a terrified young apprentice warrior.

The Beta barely had time to register that he shouldn't have been amongst the attacking force before, as if thriving on pain, the injured rogue tore at the young wolf’s throat, baring him to the ground in a fountain of blood.

The wildness in the Beta's eyes deepened. Suddenly furious, Marcus roared. “Don't just stand there! Anyone still in human form, shift.” The sounds of a dozen or more wolves changing form echoed through the ruins.

“Aim for their legs," Alex joined in. "Bring them down to the ground! Work together to pin them and then rip their throats out.”

“Will that work?” Simon questioned, wide eyed as he stared at Samuel's broken body.

"Who knows?" Marcus snapped. "You got any better ideas?"

Simon shook his head. His face was taut, but he didn't back away as the remaining two rogues joined forces.

"Well then, off we go."

*

“Oh dear.”

Fenrik spoke casually as he sauntered into the clearing, but his eyes burned with unspoken anger. “Loyalty really does mean nothing these days. You alright, Red?”

He glanced her way and Hannah nodded stiffly, trying to ignore his lack of clothes. The wolf snarled and communicated something through the rogue link that incited a laugh from Fenrik.

“What? Did you think I didn't know, Berrik?” He took several swift steps sideways and the rogue followed him, turning away from Hannah. “You really think I let a traitor walk around my camp all this time without taking precautions?”

He turned again, the change in direction bringing him back towards her and the rogue turned too, its eyes blazing.