| The Rage

Ava crouched, feeling petrified at the top of the stairs. She'd waited in her room after taking her fake shower, waiting for Jack to come looking for answers. She hadn't banked on Wesley confronting him first.

So she'd stayed out of sight, eavesdropping on the pair of them, willing Wesley away so she could get to Jack, try to help him out of here.

These last weeks she'd hoped against hope that her father would make her mother see sense. After all, Jack was a silverblood – hard to turn. A natural resister. Anyone sane would've just given up on him and set him free.

But her mom wasn't sane, not any longer. What she'd done to Mark, and what she'd been doing to Jack this last month had made Ava certain of that. And right now, looking at the nightmare creatures biting and snapping at each other in the room below, she was even more certain that she would rather die than go along with her mother's wishes. The wolf that slept deep inside her must stay sleeping forever. She would never submit to its rule.

A feeling of great sorrow threatened to overwhelm Ava. Jack's wolf had now fully taken him over. But Ava had wanted to save his life and that was why she convinced herself she could play along with her family by doing nothing pending when she could save him from becoming a monster.

Ava watched Jack wriggle free of the last of his clothes. His loose-limbed, rangy frame had become that of a sleek, deep-chested, wolf-creature, covered in smooth, dark lustrous fur. He was awesome. Terrifying. In his now-lupine face, brutish and feral jaws opened wide as a mantrap. She shuddered as Jack roared, his dark lips shrinking back to show off rows of dagger-sharp ivory teeth.

As she inched unnoticed down the stairs, Ava caught a glimpse of Jack's eyes. She gasped. They hadn't turned a sickly luminous yellow like Wesley's always did. Or a greenish gold like Marcie's. They had retained their deep brown, almost black color.

Still Jack's own. Still human. Ava had never seen a lupine with human eyes before. What did it mean?

The two creatures circled each other slowly. Wesley, more used to his 'wolf-form, kept rearing up on his hind legs, trying to intimidate Jack. Ava watched the muscles ripple across Jack's flank as he leaped at Wesley, snarling with rage. But her brother was too quick; he darted aside. Jack crashed down into a table, splintering it like matchwood. While he was recovering, Wesley came up behind him and sank his jaws into Jack's back. His howl of agony as he tore himself free went right through Ava.

She'd assumed they were only play-fighting, fooling around; that Jack was enjoying his new-found power just as Wesley had prophesied. That any moment they'd break it up, piss up the wall to mark their territory, and then chase down some mule deer in the forests outside.

But there was familiar bloodlust in Wesley's eyes.

Jack's 'wolf-form looked to be more powerful, but he was hesitant, unsure of what his new body could do. And, Ava could tell, Jack lacked the resolve to kill an opponent.

If Wesley didn't back down, the fight wouldn't go on much longer.

And wasn't that what she wanted? If Jack were to die, Ava's problems would be over for now. It would be Wesley's fault, not hers. And with campers in the area more vigilant since Jack's disappearance, suitable candidates would be less easy for Marcie to find. Maybe Dad would even convince her to give up, to let Ava move away and have a normal life …

Ava sighed, closing her eyes. She believed in werewolves because she had to. She didn't believe in any other fairy stories.

As the sounds of the fight raged on,  knew she had to do something.

Maybe it was time to believe in herself.

*****

Jack's senses raced at dizzying speed. He felt immensely strong and yet weak as a kitten. It was a bit like going from a bicycle to driving a racing car – he had all this speed and power but he lacked the experience to handle it. Just finding himself behind the wheel was awesome. And while his mind kept taking time out to marvel at the thrill and the fear of having so much bestial muscle at his command, Wesley was well used to his wolf form. And in the heat of their fighting, all that bull about the two of them being brothers seemed shot to hell.

Wesley was out for the kill.

He closed in on Jack once again, claws swiping at Jack's throat. Jack retreated, backed up against the granite fireplace, feeling the heat of the dying fire on his hind legs. As Wesley lunged for him again, Jack dodged aside. Wesley's huge paws sizzled as they struck the red-hot coals, and he howled with rage. The stink of burned hair and flesh caught in Jack's nostrils. He bared his teeth. He should attack now, tear flesh and snap on before Wesley could hurt him again.

No. No, that would hurt him worse than anything Wesley could do. Jack turned away, confused and frightened. He glanced at the pile of clothes he'd been wearing, now lying ripped and empty as if the boy inside had melted away.

Wesley reared up and smashed into his flank, pressing him down, teeth tearing at his face. Jack tried to roll free but he was trapped, pressed down hard against the floor. He closed his eyes, hoping that when death came for him it would be quick.

He heard something heavy scythe the air, and the sickening impact of metal on bone.

Jack opened his eyes to find Ava backing away, brandishing a metal poker grabbed from the fireplace. Wesley was still holding him down, but his jaws had sagged dumbly open. Blood was pouring from an ugly gash in his skull.

With a low menacing growl, Wesley turned to face his sister. She brandished the poker again, warningly, but Jack could see the fear on her face. Ava knew as well as he did that Wesley would never give her a chance to use it again. And just as expected, Wesley pounced at her. Ava shrieked. She went down under his weight, all but vanishing beneath him.

Without thinking, Jack reared forward and seized Wesley by the neck, trying to drag him away, to give Ava a chance to run. Wesley twisted furiously in his grip, and Jack felt the hot tang of blood in his jaws as they broke the skin. Rolling over, Wesley tried to break free. He took Jack with him, throwing him bodily through the air.

As Jack hit the ground, the impact jarred through his body. His grip on Wesley's throat tightened involuntarily. And with a wet crunching sound, Wesley's windpipe was crushed between Jack's teeth like a drinking straw.