Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

The rush of adrenaline and fear surprised her. It was a stark difference to how she felt with Oleander, with this pack. A part of her still hated the Armada, but it was so much softer, that hate. So much quieter. The things the wolf in the apparition had done to her… they would turn Oleander grey with shock.


He was grinning at her, and he shook his hips suggestively. He held out his paws… and suddenly there was something in them. Her mother, her form small and frail. You could count her ribs through her fur. Her eyes were dull and unfocused. A proper broken wolf. 


Oleander was speaking, but she had stopped hearing him a long time ago. Her mother was sobbing. “I'll do.” She whispered brokenly. “I'll come back, I'll do whatever you want, just please don't kill her again.” She arched out her neck, as if allowing a wolf access to nip it.