Klepto POV

My body shakes frantically as I jump on another rogue, using my teeth to dig into their neck mercilessly. Blood fills my mouth, I choke but hold my ground, tightening it until I'm latched on like a shark devouring a prized kill. I'm backing down.

The rogue goes still and whimpers as he sags to the ground. I drop him, swallowing the tangy metal flavored blood that assaults my senses.

I used to cringe at the idea of death. It took a lot of persuading on Ezra's part to convince me that my first killing was justified, but now I'm not holding myself back.

My Dad is dead. There will be no mercy today.

My head turns to survey the crowd. The females of our pack fight bravely, and they are unapologetically savage as they tear into the rogues. The rogues are outnumbered, but they're also tough. It's a fair fight.

Bodies litter the ground, dark red liquid seeping into the white snow, making it into a messy, slick foundation.

The cries of the injured fail to surpass the mourning shouts of agony as family members howl to the sky in despair. Some stop the war to mourn their losses, others turn to tackle rogue after rogue.

The sight sickens me, but I don't dare let my guard slip for even a second. I observe my female packmates in battle, but I search for my sisters. When I spot a blonde wolf, I immediately stop where I stand.

Tressandra fights alone, but bravely. She takes on a wolf almost twice her size, but uses her smallness to her advantage as she practically runs circles around the rogue.

Penelope and Tabitha also fight, their blonde wolves working together as they take down a rogue together. As soon as it was dispatched, Penelope seems to sag as she cries out. Her muzzle opens wide as a heartbreaking howl fills the air.

Confusion is followed by concern as I run to her side. I dodge others as they battle on, only to arrive next to my sisters. Tabitha whimpers and whines, and I soon realize why.

Martha lays in her wolf form, blood drenching her side that is torn open. The dark, syrupy substance stains her light fur. Her blue eyes are wide and unseeing into the distance.

She's gone.

A sharp pain needles it's way into my heart as I howl. My Father, now my little sister. Martha was only 14. She had a whole life ahead of her and it's torn away.

I watched her grow up, I had changed her diapers. Here she is, mercilessly killed on the same grounds she was raised on by these evil intruders. Tears blur my eyes and I stumble, trying to regain stable ground.

Sure Martha has bullied me, but she wanted to fit in. What teenager doesn't? She was trying to be like her sisters. I know in my heart as I look down at her that I have already forgiven her.

Deep down I know I have always loved my sisters, even when they were relentlessly hurting me. I love Martha, and I will miss her.

Tressandra was then beside us, though she is tall in her human state, she is the smallest out of us when she's a wolf. Even smaller than Penelope who is still a teenager.

When our oldest sister gazes down at our youngest sister, sorrow fills her eyes. We all share a moment of grief, so fleeting but sentimental as we each bond over the childhood we shared with her.

Just as soon as it started, it ends. Rogues descend on us, and we immediately jumped into the thrall of battle with a new found energy over losing our young sister.

Penelope aids me in killing a larger rogue with patchy, gray fur. It takes awhile, lots of dodging and parrying. Eventually, when he's dead, another rogue pounces on Penelope, and another on me.

I turn and snap at the rogue at my back. She rears back, lashing out with a snarl filled with hatred and viciousness. Her yellow teeth bared, she bites at my leg, tearing skin and causing me to yelp out in pain.

Well that hurt.

My outcry from my injury is soon followed by an outrageous bark when anger slips under the surface of my skin.

Slamming into her side, I let my claws slice her back while my teeth try to gain access to her face. She seems surprised, but quickly masks it as she pries herself away, circling me with evil in her malicious face.

Before I can charge at her, I head a roar that makes my ears throb. I whimper and nearly keel over. The sound is absolutely awful and terrifying, brimming with fury.

I look up just in time to see a lycan come charging out of the woods and into the clearing.

Every wolf in the field stops to watch as the beast comes hurtling towards us with a vengeance.

The thing is preposterously huge, it reminds me once again how powerful lycans really are. It's enormous size dwarfs each and every wolf that turns in horror at the beast hurtling towards us with rage filled eyes.

His thick, burly coat is fluffy and... white. White as snow. Panic surges at the sight because of all the lycans staying at our pack, none are white haired. Which means that this lycan has to be our enemy of not our ally.

I can only assume that this is the albino named Ryk that my mate absolutely despises. He's closely allied with the Red Alpha, in fact he's the evil villain's trusted sidekick.

A shudder of fear rumbles through me. If he attacks, which he is clearly about to, we are all dead. No ifs or buts about it. We have no chance against him at all. Bar none.

My thoughts of dread are interrupted by a slight whimper of pain.

Thinking all the fights had ceased at the sight of Ryk, I whirl my head around to see what's happened. A fairly large wolf has Tressandra by the throat, pulling her along the ground as he growls furiously in his throat. He doesn't seem concerned at all by the newly arrived lycan.

My heart races as Tressandra tries to break free in vain, she bucks and kicks to no avail. If she doesn't get free soon, she'll be killed.

A deep thundering tells me that the lycan is upon us. I cringe as I waited for the carnage that is sure to ensue on my pack.

I'm shocked when the massive, snow colored creature barrels toward Tressa and her attacker. He is making a beeline for their squabble.

As soon as he gets to them, he picks the rogue up by the back. His foaming, strong jaws locking down as they wrap around his rib cage. His mouth is big enough to go all the way around the rogue's torso.

As his teeth sink in, and a raging snarl frees itself from his throat, many of the rogues panic at the sight of it. Utter unbelief sizzles in the wind as each rogue wolf stares in horror. They thought he was on their side, but it's clear that his alliance is in question.

The mysterious white lycan tears into the wolf without mercy. Blood rains down like a storm, bones crunch and muscle tears in a sickening crackle.

My stomach turns over at the sounds of it all.

Tressandra seems to be in awe. She backs away, not being able to draw her eyes away from the gruesome scene. Ryk drops the body, now no more than a mangled corpse. When he notices Tressandra moving in the other direction, he becomes enraged.

He releases a roar, showing his dismay. As if trying to take out his anger, he turns to another rogue close by and shreds him to pieces in seconds. His unquestionable strength is downright terrifying.

After he's finished with killing the rogue, he turns on another. The surrounding rogues look to one another, exchanging terrified glances. Before I can comprehend it they all turn tail and run.

They're running away. They're actually retreating.

Each of the intruders hobble into the woods, wanting their life to be preserved. I turn to my fellow pack mates. Each of them also appears shocked at the luck we have on our side. Mere minutes ago I thought our situation was helpless, but everything changed like a coin being flipped.

Can this really be the Red Alpha's henchman? His most trusted second in command? Surely not, seeing as how he has a keen desire to take down as many filthy rogues as possible before they can escape. He's killed at least a dozen already.

After they're all gone, be it by fleeing or dying, the lycan's snout is absolutely drenched in the blood he shed. The next sight is a strange one. He turns to Tressandra's little wolf. She is not even the size of a pup compared to him, her head not even reaching halfway up his legs.

Ryk stalks over to her slowly, and she appears frozen with fear as he bends over her. She shrinks away in his shadow. He starts licking her head and standing over her protectively. The wolves of my pack seem incredulous, especially my older sister.

I'm finally starting to feel the weariness from fighting, mostly the harsh sting in my back leg. The wound is awful. The skin is shredded and torn, pulsing out a river of blood. I lay down as I watch on in interest.

It's clear that Tressandra has finally found her mate, and he is intent on keeping her safe.

Without much preamble, the ground begins to shake slightly. A sign of more lycans. I pray they're on our side.

Ezra and Alpha Veiler arrives first in the clearing. My ears perk up as I enjoy the vision of Ezra in his lycan form again. His red fur dim in the moonlight, pink nose twisting.

Once I catch sight of Alpha Veiler, I shudder. Even in his lycan form he's downright scary.

He stands taller than my mate, his fur is thick and black as midnight. The savage scars he bore shine proudly on the side of his face. Then there's his gaze, dark ruby eyes that hold only danger and death. His mouth is full of sword sized teeth.

As soon as they arrive, Ezra looks over the gore with fear. When he sees me he rushes over quickly.

He is clearly very worried as he bends over me. His hulking body shadows over mine while he stands, yellow eyes glowing in the dark like two moons. Ezra lays down by me to get closer, letting out a grumble of dismay.

I watch as more lycans arrive. By their coloring and individual scents I know it's Reid, Hyrum, and Miranda. Each of their spicy, lycan aromas mix together as they run towards the scene. I turn away and sink down in relief.

We're officially saved, I think.

All I can focus on now is the warmth surrounding me as my mate curls his big body around my much tinier one. His tongue comes out to lick at my bloody wound, which looks silly considering how huge he is in comparison to me.

I feel like a puppy getting a bath. Suddenly, he lets out a growl when he sees just how awful the wound really is. Even as he persists in cleaning it, it continues to bleed and bleed. My limb is numb under his coarse tongue.

I roll my eyes at his overreaction, trying to tell him that I'm fine, but he doesn't look so convinced.

His enormous tongue continues to reverently lap at my leg, one of his front paws pins me to the ground to keep me still. I wiggle in agitation before I take note that he has no visible injuries as I also worriedly check him over. He had some blood on him, but no wounds. I raise my eyebrows.

It's clear he had an injury, but it's healed already. I envy his ridiculously fast immune system. Curse his lycan genetics!

Looking up, I notice that a lot of attention is still solely focused on Tressandra.

Alpha Veiler looks on the scene with what can only be akin to understanding calmness. His face is serene, his presence still.

The white lycan growls fiercely at Veiler, showing him his gleaming teeth as he takes a stance to protect Tressa.

Ryk's enormous body eclipses my sister completely. He lets out a fierce bark, then a vicious snarl, licking his teeth. His blue eyes turn as dark as the night sky as they drift towards Ezra, then back to Veiler and the other lycans.

He is assessing if they will be threats to his new found mate. It's like Ryk had discovered treasure and doesn't want anyone near it.

Veiler shifts back to his human form slowly as he backs away from the mysterious white creature. The other lycans stand side by side, they stare at Ryk in curiosity and anger.

When our King is standing on his two legs, I quickly notice his nakedness and look away with embarrassment.

I keep my gaze glued to my mate. I stand and turn around so I'm facing his chest, snuggling into his fur. Ezra chuffs silently in appreciation, still licking at my wound like he couldn't care less about everything else that's going on around us.

"You there, go get supplies from the bunker. We need clothes and medical supplies for the injured." He calls clearly to someone. I can hear a few paws trotting cautiously around the terrifying lycan beast that is still growling.

After they disappear into the bunker, Veiler addresses all of us.

"If you are unharmed and able, please help your injured pack mates in getting treatment. If there are any major injuries of any kind, find me and I'll be glad to assist you. There are water bottles and blankets in the bunker, I think it would be best if you all head there. Everyone needs to shift back and get dressed, the fighters should be back shortly. This is almost over."

I try to get up, to go to my sisters and help in any way that I can, but Ezra growls lowly in warning. He blocks me from leaving with his massive head that is as big as my whole body. He presses his paw into me with a more firm hold.

I gaze up at him in frustration, his expression is disapproving. Then I look over to Penelope and Tabitha who pad along together. Side by side, their sadness still hanging over them.

There is still a bleakness in the air

Our Father is dead. Our sister is dead.

There are many other countless losses here today, and the palpable grief is almost too much to take. Many of the females here have lost somebody, that isn't even counting the males who have probably also been killed elsewhere around the grounds.

Bodies of the deceased are everywhere and I feel an awful sinking sensation, as if I'm falling straight into oblivion.

My pack is in ruins, and my family is broken apart. A shuddery sob leaves me as I nestle closer to the warmth of my mate. His paw pulls me closer. I whimper before letting out a soft mewl of grief.

They're gone, and nothing will ever be the same.

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If you're reading this, I love you:)

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