The moment Ylva had finished carefully wiping the blood away from Tord's face, he was back on his knees. He understood her motives now but he couldn't quite find it in his heart to forgive her.

Tord watched with mournful eyes as she approached the door on the right: the one the leaders had gone through. She lightly pulled on the handle and peeked inside the room, her knuckles turning white as her grip on the door tightened. Hushed words were exchanged and soon enough there were footsteps approaching again.

Bella re-entered the room first. She sneered bitterly at where Tord was cowering, then took her place on one of the sofas. Anthony was close behind and sat next to her, not leaning back against the cushions. James' beady eyes glinted maliciously at both the Norwegians as he made his way over to the other sofa; Kelvin had his hands clenched into fists and his brown hair was a bit of a mess, as if he'd been running his fingers through it repeatedly.

Ylva stood in front and slightly to the left of Tord, her hands linked behind her back and her posture tall and tense. She shifted her feet a little and the movement caused Tord to look up; he noticed her looking at the left door, but couldn't see her expression.

The door opened again. Tord's gaze shot to the right to see who the newcomer was. All four leaders seemed to straighten and smarten up simultaneously, blanking any emotion and staring straight ahead.

Tord knew that look: it was the look his soldiers wore when he entered the room.

His interested eyes hardened into an icy glare, figuring that this man was the ultimate leader of the Burning Tygers. The man took an easy step that looked flawless and casual, as if it had been perfected for the catwalk. He carried himself with an air of suffocating self-confidence and strutted towards the large armchair. Once he had sat down, Tord decided immediately that he definitely didn't like the stranger.

He had narrow, small eyes and large ears to contrast. His hair was mostly a greyish-white, although a few strands hinted at the auburn it used to be. It was styled to an impeccable standard, indicating a lot of time spent on something so menial. When he smiled down at Tord, it certainly wasn't friendly.

Ylva suddenly flinched and let out a muffled yelp, attracting all attention on the room. She had finally torn her gaze away from the exit door and faced the main leader. Her gloved hands had gone up to cover her mouth as her eyes glimmered in the low lighting.

"Father?" She whispered.

The man only grinned wider. "You did well, Ylva. I'm so proud of you."

"But... How...?" She shook her head, blinking rapidly and looking a little unsteady on her feet. "Why?"

"I always knew you had the passion to achieve greatness." He stretched out his legs tiredly, leaning an elbow on the armrest and resting his chin on the back of his hand regally. "I knew that if things went wrong for me, you'd always see my plans through to the end."

Ylva couldn't take her eyes off him. "You've been missing for more than five years, and you didn't think to tell me you'd survived the battle? I thought you were dead! Do you know how much I cried over you?!"

His expression saddened slightly, but it didn't seem enough to be genuine. "I'm sorry, Ylva. But after what Red Leader did to me, I couldn't risk revealing the truth to anyone: not even you."

"After what Re- what happened?" Her voice had lowered to a murmur again and there was a pained note in her voice that made Tord wince.

"He left all of us to die on the battlefield. He knew it was an incredibly dangerous gamble and would end in the deaths of hundreds of soldiers, and yet he still sent us to that hell." His voice was laced with poison as he spat out ever word like a blade, glaring painfully at Tord.

"I was fighting alongside all of you! It could well have been my own funeral, too." The Norwegian snapped back at him, balling his hands into fists and pressing the knuckles against the cold concrete to stop himself from lashing out.

"Yeah, right. I never saw you out there. You were probably safe and sound inside your cozy office being served desserts in a silver spoon while we were all out risking and giving our lives for your stupid cause." The man practically leapt out of his chair, bristling with anger, only for Bella to daringly mutter a quiet, "don't let him aggravate you, Ormarr."

Tord took secret satisfaction in the knowledge that he irritated the ex-soldier, but kept his face set like stone and cold as snow. "My stupid cause?! Protecting the army from total annihilation and keeping families' livelihoods safe from the enemy is stupid, huh? This fight was for your family, too, Oydis!"

Ormarr's expression faltered, and his grip on the end of the armrests became vice-like. "I fought to keep my children safe: I didn't fight for your benefit."

"But you still fought." Tord lowered his voice, a sad note twisting his tone. "You were a good and loyal soldier, Oydis. I kept you and your family clean, fed and sheltered in return for your service. What did I do wrong? What happened to you?"

"You did everything wrong, Red Leader! You only cared about yourself!" He took in a sharp, shuddering breath that seemed to rattle in his ribcage and hiss between his crooked teeth like a serpent. "Ylva, shut him up! It's about time we get rid of you once and for all, Red Leader."

Tord tried not to wince as he anticipated what was about to happen. He lowered his gaze to the floor and dipped his head, unwilling to do anything against the ginger who had stolen his heart. A few seconds past and his ears were filled with the thumping of his heart, and then–

"No."

"What did you say?" Ormarr drew back his head in shock, narrowing his creepy eyes into slits.

Ylva had her hands tensed by her sides as she stared evenly back at the man. "Do you know what my name means, father?"

Tord blinked up at her in confusion. What was she doing? What was going on here? He was entirely lost in his snowstorm of thoughts, left to observe the proceedings in silence.

"I-- uh, of course! Your mother told me why she wanted to call you that, b-because, um..." Ormarr fumbled for words, stuttering and rapidly glancing around the room for some help that never came. "It means... I-it means..."

"It means wolf." Ylva's bright blue eyes blazed with a passionate, simmering fury. "And wolves... Wolves are loyal to their pack."

It all happened so quickly that Tord's mind could barely process it all. Ylva had pulled him to his feet and grabbed his hand, and the two of them were sprinted off towards the door. They blasted through with shouts of alarm and anger following in their wake. Tord almost stumbled down the hard steps as he tried to keep up with the nimble pace, but he was pulled along. The green light of the fire escape glimmered into view like a beacon of hope, and soon the pair had exploded into the cool, night air of London city.

~

I've been waiting for this moment since about chapter five. God, it felt so good to write.

Hope you enjoyed!