Verando's point of view-

The thunder rumbles overhead, blocking out distant gunfire. The heavy scent of rain on the horizon billows through the busy street, swirling around the various forms of occupational aroma from the traveling civilians. The city was teeming with life, threatening to step out of war-torn and siege to prosperity that encouraged other cities to rise to the occasion. 

Overnight, it seemed that the veil of fear had begun to lift. 

While the anarchists were a constant threat, one that was very real as they lurked on the outskirts of the badlands. They frequently stole into the city at night to challenge the united force of this new front, forced to remain aloof they were forced to only confront when necessary otherwise risking exposure to Caspian before the time was right. 

"Does Nic know we're out here?" Helen asks him curiously, folding her gloved hands behind her back as she absently kicks a pebble down the poorly maintained sidewalk. Her lycra suit swished against the protective gear, her messy ponytail flicked much like a displeased equine. She was impatient to get started. 

Verando had agreed to take her on surveillance with him. As much as I had intended, and been advised by him, to dismiss any anarchist activity; it was too close to home to allow it go unsupervised. He'd like to admit his intentions were pure, but the fact was Caspian's goons would make for good target practice for Helen. 

He knew all too well that I wouldn't approve of this sort of training, so slipping out undetected in the early hours of the morning had been the best option. Besides, the hangover was pushing him towards violence and sleep had not been kind to him. 

If Helen was ever going to succeed him, she would have to learn how to make these decisions. Poorly practiced rebels made for easy prey. She would have to learn to hunt. 

"What do you see?" His voice is calm, devoid of any attachment. Out here, he couldn't be her grandsire. "A leader is vigilant, paranoia is healthy in small doses but it can also cause your death."

Their boots on the sidewalk stand out against the softer shoes of the civilians. Producing non harmonious thuds against the scuffling symphony. "Erm..." Her eyes scan, having to stretch on her tiptoes to see over the multiple heads so much taller than hers. Her body sways, like a young fawn trying to see over the hedge. 

Verando's hand quickly snags her shoulder, pushing back to level on her feet. 

"So you can't rely on your eyes, acknowledge it without a feeble attempt at what you know will fail. What do you smell?"

"Rain." She announces quickly, before hesitating and twisting her lips into careful consideration. "Gunpowder?"

Verando accepts that, releasing her with an eye roll at her grin and peppy two-step. "Sometimes I think you're ready and sometimes I can't fathom handing over an army to you." 

The admittance is a painful blow that causes Helen to nearly stop in her tracks. Her hurt expression was clear on her face, while she'd gone far beyond the need to cry, she lacked the hardness needed to completely conceal the pain of the truth. 

It hurt him, too. It'd never been like this for him before. He'd training dozens, hundreds if one considered passing youth who sought him out. Training had been something that had always come naturally to him, he was dismissive and unattached, his ability to conform young bodies into hardened soldiers was unmatched in most aspects and yet Helen was an anomaly to him. 

At every turn, she dissected his reasoning. His tolerance bowed to her kindness, her innocence, and her excitement. Something that would very easily take her life, a slip that would be unforgivable in a real situation that agonized him to crush out. Happiness and pride had been stripped out of him a long time ago and now he was forced to do the same. 

"These are basic questions and you're letting your excitement get in the way. You're too old to act like this."

The firmness casts her eyes down, ashamed. It dragged him back out of Alpha mode, his wolf sympathetic in the back of his mind. "In public at least." He amends, once more giving her permission to be anything but the hardened warrior they needed. Composing her face, the tiny corner of her mouth turns up, eyes brighter, shoulders taller.

Helen nods one time, taking a deep breath. "So take me through it, what's the first thing you'd do, oh great Alpha?" 

His expression causes her to clear her throat and she straightens up, glancing quick passes as she attempts to keep her eyes straight ahead. 

"The locals are your greatest ally. As the King, as a leader, Nic and his court.. or I suppose it would be a government, can't move as quietly as we do. To become unassuming, to fade into the background, is your greatest asset. It's becoming more and more difficult for me to do that, now that our relationship is public but I still do what I can. The people are who will keep you safe when you need them the most, when you're lost or you're alone, being able to create empathy..."

 He eyes her suspiciously, it was something that she was too good at and it almost frightened him. 

"And trust, will save your life and unite your people."

"You? Do people feel empathy for you? I thought you just... scared.. people into doing what you want?" Helen shrugs, confusion crossing her face as he directs them into a small bakery. The shops had slowly been reopening, and people testing out their crafts, it was a good opportunity to show her the ropes. 

Verando gestures with his hand to the busy older woman behind the counter, rolling out dough. "Fear does not compel someone to save you. There is always someone they will fear more, though it can become a tool. Lasting relationships aren't built on fear." It was a lesson hard to learn in his youth. 

The young woman worked on her striding as she walked up to the counter, it was as if she'd never spoken to someone before, with no scripts, no indication of even what she was looking for. Over her head, Verando offers the large eyes of the older woman a small nod. 

She shakes her head, mildly amused, as Helen rests her hands on the counter then quickly thinks better of it and pulls them back. "Good morning, Miss..."

"Kay." She greets, glancing her up and down. "Looking quite sharp dressed like you're going to war. Hope you're not bringing any trouble..."

Helen quickly shakes her head. "No no! No, I'm just trying to get to know people. We're on the side of the resistance!" 

Kay dusts off her hands on her apron before crossing the small space to get a pan. "And what are you resisting, sugar?"

Wide-eyed, she frowns. "I-" Her hand gestures back and forth between her and Verando, who only offers her a shrug. With a heavy sigh, Helen yanks her hair out of the ponytail, frustrated with the tightness of the band. "How are you this morning?"

Kay hesitates, glancing over her shoulder. "Cold. It's almost Christmas."

"Everyone alright? Staying safe?" She presses, offering her a small smile. "Is there anything I can do to help you?" 

The older woman greases the pan in slow appreciation, using her teeth to drag one of her sleeves higher up on her war-torn, scarred arms. The dough steams lightly as she returns to kneading it. "How could you help me? You're just a kid." It was a good question, how could she offer any help? 

It was a question that had crossed her mind multiple times. She had her small, loosely formed force, but anything beyond that mostly answered to Verando over anyone else. It was a major holdback, it seemed at times she had little to offer. She wasn't large, she could hardly even control her wolf at times. 

Kay steals a glance back at Verando, watching her with mild concern from behind. 

The urge to step in and save her from crashing pulled at his subconscious. But it was her conversation. Finally, Helen straightens from her shrunken position. "Because I understand that in times like these, all we have is each other. We all have a part to play, I just wanted to let you know you're not alone." 

Nodding, Kay rests her fist on her hip and tilts her head to look around the slender girl. "She's alright, fluffy bunny meets jungle cat. I don't know what you were worried about." 

It takes the lycan male aback and he coughs to hide his surprise at the betrayal of the woman as Helen wheels around with narrowed eyes. 

"You set me up!" Her tone accusing as she pokes his chest. 

Verando glares daggers at the laughing pastry chief. "And you did fine." 

Exasperated, she thanks Kay before storming out of the bakery, the door jingles in an almost taunting manner and promptly slams. "Finally. There's some attitude." It wasn't often she even expressed her displeasure. Finishing his thought, he raps his knuckles promptly on the counter to gain Kay's attention. "Must you throw me under the bus?"

"Look at you using modern terms... there's not a bus to throw you under, honey. Have some faith and get those damn anarchists out of here."

"Point me in a direction?" He asks with a sigh. She places two fresh muffins on the counter with a tilt of her head. 

"Meet up with Fadri, head north-"

Quickly he stops her. "Do not tell Fadri I was here." She raises her eyebrows and taps her fingers impatiently. "I'm on an elective training mission, let's say."

"Head north. There's talk of human forces filling in where anarchists are falling... Senator Campbell is making waves. He's purposing a monarchy with himself at the head." 

Stiffening, Verando nods, accepting the muffins and placing a twenty on the counter. "Thank you, Kay. I think I need to have a talk with the senator."

Snagging the money, she grimaces. "My door will be open until midnight... if you should need it. If His Majesty comes looking for you-" 

"Tell him where I am. No secrets." She nods and waves him off as he departs to hand the muffin to Helen, taking a bite of his own. "Peace offering?"

Taking it with a less than pleased expression, she juts her chin to a group of men using a pushcart to load boxes out of a hardware store. "That shop owner keeps rubbing his hands together, he looks nervous. I've been watching them, I don't think these men are supposed to be taking this stuff." 

Taking another bite of the sweet muffin, he observes the lanky, obviously human males dragging box after box out of the store. 

The owner hesitates to stop them, not daring to call out but looking around in an almost frantic manner. Much as he could from his standing position beside the cart, it would appear her assessment could be correct. Much as Helen wasn't the street rat he'd been forced to be, she was considerate. She noticed other people's pain. 

"Good observation."

"Let's go help him-" Helen wheels around in shock as his iron grip snags her arm. The urge to growl curls into her throat, threatening to spill over. It was pleasing, to see the resistance in her eyes. 

His wolf dared to rise to the occasion but he forced it down, refusing to meet the challenge. It was no mystery to him how he would survive this and training his wolf to accept that reality had been hard fought given her timid nature. It had been easy for Sota to bow to his father, the opposing force that he was. 

Helen's gentle nature was a simple target, one Alpha did not ignore. 

"We have to follow these men. A leader understands when there is information to be gained. We don't have a clue of their numbers or who they're working for."

In reserved silence, they stalk after the painfully slow human pace. Taking out her phone, Helen snaps the occasional picture, much more well-versed in the technological advancements of the modern era. The thunder rolls over their head and his heart begins to pound in his chest, the thought of being doused in rain is less than appealing.

 With every passing moment, they drifted closer to the badlands though he was admittedly impressed by how the city had grown in their short time here.

Buildings were reclaimed, streets cleared, and old abandoned machinery repurposed. "Do you miss Daddy?" She asks suddenly, bringing him out of his silent observation as they trail through the thinning crowd. 

Her timing had an uncanny ability to occur at the worst moments. "Legardo? Why-" Hesitating, he catches the sadness on her face and exhales the hungover frustration in favor of a kinder, more patient expression. "Now or then. I hate to admit it, Helen, but I don't know him all that well. I think he prefers it that way. " 

She hesitates. "I just wish he didn't hate you so much."

Making a face, Verando gestures her to wait beside a building as the men come to a stop, entering another store. Leaning against the aged concrete wall, he keeps his gaze firmly set on the lazily paced men. "Some people don't have a lot of redeeming qualities, Helen." 

The words were truths about himself, not Legardo. It was a crippling flaw passed on by his father. The lack of consideration, he often cared about little beyond my existence. 

Even the formalities of becoming this charming, be it intimidating, voice for the civilians who'd come to know him taxed his ability to coax life from his damaged empathy. Lying was something he'd grown painfully good at, going through the motions to get what he needed if it meant keeping me safe. 

If he was being realistic, even Xavier paled to compare to his consideration for me, as most things did. 

"So you don't?" Her voice brought him back to the surface once more, bringing a sharp curse from his lips as the cart was now gone. 

"Helen. We need to focus." Yet those light eyes never left him, his own reflected at him. A younger version of himself, perhaps the claimed wolf of his mother, staring him down with a horrifying amount of honesty and truth. One that slashed the facade of his darkness, that cut through all else, the inner wolf that would best him when their time came remained. 

Perhaps it was this flaw that caused him to instinctively remain on her good side, she was a threat if she'd only accept it. Her internal beast contended powerfully with his own, he could sense it from the minute Malka made her presence known.

His eyes comb as she crosses her arms over her chest, aiding his search. "I don't see them." She tightens her tone, burying her youth in favor of her training. "Did you get a good scent on them?"

Verando's eyebrows pull down, glaring into the fading crowd. Not many tread so close to the dissipating badlands. "No, they didn't quite have one. It was rather generic, actually." 

The thunder cracks and lightning erupts from the sky, coming down into the street with an immense spark. Making a break for it, they run down the street as the lighting pops and crackles like electrical whips as they skirt across the street. 

"What the hell is that?!" Helen snaps, diving down an alley. The lightning strikes again and he follows behind her, quickly scooping her up to jump up and grab the bottom of the fire escape. The ground becomes electric, snapping and crackling as the lightning seeks them out. 

"A test. If they knew who we were they wouldn't be trying to kill us." Spying across the street, the downed civilians create a surge from Helen and he tightens his grip on her. "Don't you dare. You can't help dead people. Your job, now, is to stay alive."

"Fan out! Find them! The resistance has some nerve sending two lone lycans to look for us. When you find them, bring them to me!"

"Grayson?" Helen murmurs. 

Verando frowns, wishing he'd picked a different arm as the left shoulder begins to fatigue. 

"Climb up onto the fire escape. I'll give you a boost." Using his palm for support, she carefully climbs onto his shoulder, scaling up the ladder and onto the rickety escape that groans and shudders from the weight. There was no way it was going to hold them both for long but lucky for her, he wasn't intending on staying. 

The gunfire resounds again, coming from the left as hoards of people rush in. "Our people?" Helen asks excitedly. 

He shakes his head, the outfits were wrong, too clean, and too well-pressed. They looked like designed soldiers. 

"No.. they're all humans. Look at their clothes." 

Lightning cracks from the sky again, scattering the men to the alleyways as the whipping trails overtake the feet of multiple grounded men. As one rushes into the alleyway, he delivers a swift kick to their forehead, pleased with the landing to dissuade any wandering eyes. It was time to split up, they would be more effective on their own. "Helen."

She shakes her head quickly, reaching down to grab onto his wrist. "You're not leaving me."

Glancing up, he could see the fear, the hurt, the pleading in her eyes that he not abandon her here. The fire escape groans again and he adjusts his hold. "I have to cross the street to get a better angle. Did you bring weapons?"

Blinking rapidly, she quickly begins to search her pockets and sleeves, rattling off the names of various knives and only two smaller handguns. While he'd hoped for more, he was pleased that she'd prepared. "Good girl. Load both handguns and make sure there's one in the chamber. Do you remember where to aim?" 

She nods, tightening her jaw, and holding more firmly onto his wrist. 

"Knives when you can, do not stop moving no matter what. Work your way North, lead them to Fadri's forces. We can not allow this militia to reach the inside of the city." 

As he speaks, her eyes begin to grow more and more distant. Could this be because this is too much for her? She would crack under the pressure, die from a selfish attempt to see for his own eyes what she was capable of. "Helen?"

"Guns." Her voice is an echo. "Guns, those were boxes of guns. I can see through these windows." 

The artillery shell hits the side of a neighboring building, the world erupts as bricks rain from the sky and the clouds open up to add weight to the dust. The steady rain falls with the shrapnel as the fire escape snaps free from the siding, only to be caught by the adjacent building. Helen stifles a scream as she grips the hand rail and Verando attempts to stabilize his swinging body. 

The lightning spreads across the ground as another artillery shell hits a building across the street. He shields his eyes in his shoulder, they were too obvious in their position. They had to move. "Change of plan. We go together."

Quickly nodding, she jumps down as he does, fighting with her body suit. He grabs her, gripping her tightly. "Do not shift. They see Malka we are done for. Save the wolf until you need her." Swallowing, he can feel it in his pulse, the fear, the adrenaline, the desire to escape as the rain soaks their clothes. 

His breath materializes, steam rising from his shoulders as Helen threatens to shiver. In a moment of panic, he jerks back against the wall of the building to shelter himself from the building downpour. 

Another boom as the next shell hits overhead. Verando pulls her to him, protecting her head as the grit and rubble fall all around. A collage of pale and red brick lay scattered across the street as forces began to move inward. They had to do something, they could not remain here, yet his feet refused to move. 

The rain made it difficult to even breathe, the water streaming down his face felt suffocating, he hadn't even realized he'd begun to tremble till she'd caught his gaze with her concern. 

"It would seem I've taken on some damage.." The cloud of embarrassment was worse than the fear of suffocating, some scars couldn't be seen. Some wounds were so much deeper than the flesh. 

She was shaking, too. Resembling his struggle so strongly, when the person who was seen as your mentor began to fall from grace. The construction of 'Alpha' had begun to crumble with this last effort on Caspian's part. "Come on," Helen tells him firmly. "Sometimes fear won't go away, so you'll have to do it afraid." 

Rolling his eyes, the amusement helps with the crippling anxiety. "Sounds familiar." He had killed his father for his weakness. It'd be a lie to say he wasn't expecting the same, wasn't it a natural progression for progeny to weed out the weak? But, Helen wasn't his, and Legardo had had little influence from the toxicity of his line. 

Smiling back in response, Helen squares her shoulders. "I have a plan."