Nomad {Editing}

::Chapter 33:: Worse yet to Come

Enough aforethought left to realise what had to be done, with chaos descending, he lunged.

Were any of the people he cared about to get out of this alive, he was going to have to kill Anthony. That and he had a few, more selfish reasons, to want Anthony dead at this point. He tore towards the witch.

Practically immediately his hopes were dashed as he was tackled from mid-air and into a wall.

It was quickly made apparent that they had no qualms dying to make sure the man who was now at their head, wasn't hurt. Several put their bodies, seemingly unconsciously, in between the witch and the mad wolf.

And Anthony didn't seem to have enough loyalty in him to care about whether or not they did.

He would happily see the people who fought for him die if it meant that he came out on top.

Charlie was beginning to see more and more similarities between the witch and his father. In spite of the fact that Anthony claimed to hate the King for the way he had run the Kingdom, he was very like the man.

So much effort to try and overthrow him, Charlie realised with terror, only to crown this man.

The idea alone terrified him, and instilled him with the unshakeable feeling that it was an endless circle which in turn lead to the one terrifying thought which beforehand had never even crossed his mind.

What if there is someone worse then father out there?

Part of him guessed that somewhere, in some depths of the shadows there probably was. A child could have described monsters from their nightmares which were probably more terrifying then the King.

But King James had been the only King Charlie had ever known, and he had hated him for such a long time that the idea alone that someone worse could come to the throne shook him to the very core.

Considering everything their King had done in order to ensure that he came out on top. It terrified him what another man would be willing to do to one of his own subjects in order to be victorious.

But he didn't have a great amount of time to put much more thought into the subject, as he was barraged by more and more attacks. They seemed to be relentless, for a people who were dying, they seemed very intent to stay alive for as long as they could. And right now he needed to try and make sure he didn't die right here.

Despite their best attempts to keep him away, every movement Charlie made was with the intent to get closer to the witch. He fought with everything he had, desperate and angry he fought on with anger.

Fangs tore into him from every side. Claws opened wounds both new and old through his fur.

Panting hard, the young wolf stumbled as he fought to keep himself on four paws. Which was easier said then done with the number of wolves doing everything in their power to ground him and make sure he stayed that way.

Knowing full well that he had never been trained properly for battle as they had been. He stumbled and tripped, every movement was a struggle to make it land or find something to tear through.

Yet the enemy seemed to have had every movement orchestrated for them beforehand. It was all done with ease and perfection, for a while Charlie was beginning to wonder if they ever even made mistakes.

He had found out before that they were built for strength, not intelligence. But he couldn't even find a way to use that this advantage as they continued to attack him at every opportunity they had.

At last Charlie lost the ability to stay on his paws and stumbled to the ground with a thud. In an instant they had piled on him, intent on tearing him limb from limb as though nothing else in the world mattered as much as this did.