Howl! Seven days to the wolves
Where will we be when they come?
Seven days to the poison
And a place in heaven
Time drawing near us
They come to take us
(Seven Days to the Wolf, Nightwish)
A week had gone by, and Joe had been working back at the camp. Joe and River easily started to develop a routine and they were happy and content with their life together. Memories of the compound and fear of losing Joe started to fade, and instead River looked ahead to a happy future.
On Friday afternoon, River drove back from the shop and thought she would take a nice long soak in the bath before Joe got home. As she ran the water, she thought about how her new life compared to her old one. She had been happy, or so she thought. She had resigned herself to the fact she would spend her life alone, and then Joe had come and turned everything upside-down.
She now had to juggle two lives and lie to her friends, but the ache she felt deep in her loins every time she thought of Joe told her that it was all worth it. She smiled as she thought about the errant strands of his dark locks that would often fall in his face, the firm plane of his broad chest, and the rounded contours of his deltoids. He was so perfectly put together, more like the progeny of some errant god than a mortal man. She could stare at him all day.
River swirled some of her favourite vanilla scented bubble bath through the hot water, and was about to climb into the tub when someone banged hard against her front door. The noise was unexpected; her nostrils were full of the scented steam and she had not detected their approach. It caused her wolf to rise to the fore, and she almost shifted in her bathroom. She stepped out of the bathroom, grabbing a robe, and a growl slipped from her throat. Her wolf's hackles were up as she smelled another werewolf on the other side of the door.
As she edged closer, the person on the other side called her name. She realised that the scent was familiar, and so was the voice. Opening the door, she saw a naked man lying on her porch, battered, bruised, and missing a portion of his left arm from just below the elbow. It was Clay.
River bent down and helped the tall man into her home. She got him to the sofa as he weakly asked for Joe. After she had him seated, she immediately went for the first aid kit. As she rifled through the meagre kit, she thought how ridiculous this was; she didn't think she had anything that could cope with a severed limb. Water, gauze, antiseptic, and as many bandages as she could find would have to be enough.
She ran back to Clay, and found that he had passed out. Looking at the wound, it appeared his arm had been chewed off. It had stopped bleeding, thanks to the superior werewolf regenerative powers, but it was a dirty and ragged mess. It looked like it had happened about a week ago, which meant it was actually only a day or two since it happened.
She cleaned it as best as she could, trying not to throw up at the sight of raw flesh. She was grateful that Clay was out cold as she bandaged it up. When she was done she started to clean the rest of him. He was filthy, looking like he had literally been dragged through the proverbial hedge backwards. What the hell had happened to him?
River looked at the clock, and saw that Joe would be home any minute. He would get to the bottom of it. Moments later she heard his truck screech down the track to their cabin, and within seconds he burst through the door, his face full of rage. River realised she didn't need to tell him that Clay was here; he already knew. She rushed to him, and calmed him, explaining that Clay was here looking for him, but was injured. Something terrible had happened.
Joe's chest rose and fell quickly as he took in the scene. He looked at the unconscious Beta sitting on thier sofa, and noticed the bandaged stump. River's scent and presence filtered through the mist of his aggression, and he calmed. She was safe. Clay meant her no harm, nor had he come to take her. He walked towards the man and barked at him:
"Clay!"
The younger man jerked into consciousness. He gasped from the pain, and laid his right arm against his bandaged stump. His face looked pale and pinched, and Joe knew he was hiding great pain. Softer this time, he spoke the man's name again.
"Clay. What happened?"
"Alpha," the man nodded with respect. "I am sorry to intrude in this manner, but I ... I didn't know where else to go, and I had to warn you."
"Warn me?" growled Joe.
"A few days after you left, the compound was invaded. About twenty armed and trained Betas turned up, and killed some of my ... the Omegas, and imprisoned the rest. Their leader was greeted as a pack mate by Bart, or as the stranger called him, Bartosz."
"Bartosz?" Joe shook his head, the name unfamiliar to him.
"Bart was the Beta that ran the kitchen for Caleb," River interrupted.