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.

With the same level of aggression and hatred that Charlie had spent most of his life living as.

Pinned to his side with little place to move anything other then his eyes. Charlie exhaled hard. Believing in that moment that he had failed, that everyone he loved was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it.

A pair of boots appeared before him, accompanied by a chuckle even the devil would have deemed a little too cruel considering the situation. Looking up as best as he could, not even enough room to move that he could see the witch fully. Charlie narrowed his eyes.

"Kill him," the witch said, as though any of the enemy needed to be told twice.

Growling in a last ditch desperate attempt to somehow gain his freedom, he thrashed with every ounce of energy he had left. Which at this point wasn't great in number, the weight of multiple people on his body was making it hard to breathe.

Charlie was bleeding from nearly every part of his body and his vision was beginning to fade.

Snarling, Charlie managed to lunge upwards very slightly.

Whilst it didn't come anywhere near close to freeing him, it gave him an opportunity.

Panicking, thinking the man capable of killing him brutally was about to get free. The man stumbled backwards into a chair, falling flat on his rear with a loud thudding sound he cried out in pain.

It didn't hurt him nearly enough to injure him, but it did all which was needed for the time being.

He had lost his concentration.

The wall fell again opening to the rest of his friends on the other side.

For a moment, Robert and the rest of the group didn't seem to know how to react to this new development. They looked in with near identical expressions lighting their faces no one moved for a split second on either end.

But a split second was all that was needed to collect themselves, to realise what had happened, and move. All at once they came tumbling through the wall, not waiting for eachother to get out of the way, they shouldn't have been able to fit.

Yet through sheer will power, they were in and fighting with Charlie all at once.

It was again apparent that intelligence wasn't the strong point of the enemy, as in that second they didn't react. The surprise clearly taking its effect on the strangers and it showed that they weren't experienced when it came to this sort of tactic.

From his disadvantage point of being pinned flat to the ground, and unable to move, Charlie could only hope that his friends were going to take what would be one of very few advantages and act.

Charlie was more grateful then ever before when it became apparent that they weren't about to let this go to waste as they lunged inwards. Several of them went for the wolves pinning Charlie to the ground, whereas Robert and the one left over went for Anthony.

Quickly back on his paws, barely noticing the pain which may have otherwise crippled him, Charlie joined in the battle. Ripping his fangs into everything he could get his fangs into, payback for the pain they had been causing him mere moments beforehand.

But even no the group struggled to find much of an advantage, the strangers may have been ill, yet it was very apparent that they intended to fight till the end. And they want to bring us down with them, Charlie thought with fury.

All he wanted was to get out of here with the people he loved alive.

They were doing everything in their power to make sure the opposite happened.

A bite from his side sent a shockwave through his body and he stumbled with a snarl of pain and he lunged over. Taking the stranger and himself to the ground with a hard thud which in itself ripped pain through Charlie.

Only little else needed to be done after that, for he had crushed her skull from the very impact of his weight. More than a little grim, but Charlie had as little pity for her as he did any of the people in this room who wanted him dead.

Leaping from the body, blood now marking his paws as well from the battle. Though it would take a lot more for him to be covered in more blood that was his enemies then that which was his own in that moment.

This small victory gave him a little boost in morale, as it meant that they might have a chance.

As small and meagre as it may well have been.

Recognising a sharp cry of pain, Charlie spun on his heal with a snarl of fury and lunged tackling Robert's attacker before he could fully realise that he had even moved. He tore his fangs through the stranger's fur. Fury fuelling his every movement.

However, the stranger was on his feet before Charlie had as much as hit the ground from the tackle. Returning the bites, claws and pretty much everything Charlie could think to throw at the stranger. The battle was quickly making short work of the young wolf.

Fortunately Robert was quick to return to his paws, and join in with Charlie.

The two brothers fought side by side, working hard to bring down their common enemy.

Despite the odds which seemed to be entirely in his favour, as Charlie lunged to bite into the stranger. Robert managed to unbalance him with a particularly inelegant shove and the enemy was dead before he had come to the ground with a thud.

Panting, Charlie glanced at his brother with an appreciative glance. But there was little time for him to do anything else to show thanks, as within the heartbeat, the enemy had descended on them once again.

It was relentless.

And Charlie and his friends were quickly running out of energy with which to fight back. By all standards it was a miracle that they had managed to keep up with them as long as they had managed to so far.

How much longer they would be able to keep it up, time would only tell.

Until it did though, Charlie was willing to fight until the last drop of blood in his body fell, the last breath of air left his lungs, and the last of his friends fell. Then and only then, would he admit defeat.

It appeared if something miraculous didn't happen and quick, that wouldn't take very long.

Miracle, wasn't exactly the word Charlie would have used for what happened next.

As fire exploded into the room and licked up everything in its path that wasn't human, leaving the room bare except for the ash which littered the bedroom.

Such would have been fine, had it not been for the fact that Charlie quickly realised what the smell he had caught from before was.

Dynamite.