Dominic Izzard

[Dominic]

Name: Dominic Izzard.
Nicknames: The most common one he hears is the shortening of his name into Dom, one which he accepts easily from people. At work he occasionally is referenced to by his surname.
Race: Werewolf – Bitten.
Occupation: Rogue; Commercial Pilot.
Gender: Male.
Skin Color: Caucasian with a clear tan.
Age: 315, however to the mortal eye he appears to be in his late thirties.
Clothing: The male werewolf tends to go for clothes that are dark in colour, liking blacks, browns and dark greens, liking the way they allow him to blend into the surroundings and the fact that they suit him. A simple long sleeved shirt and some pants to match is generally enough for him, typically the same block colour. Simplicity is the key to his style. When he isn’t working, Dominic prefers to dress casually, choosing sneakers over any other sort of shoes for their comfort and ease to move about in. He has a main coat that he is often seen in, a thick black duster that goes down to about his knees, made from a warm fabric and containing a decent amount of pockets. He makes an effort to ensure that his clothes are well bought and well made, partly because he doesn’t want to look bad in front of Phaedra and partly because he simply likes the feel of a well made shirt or pants, knowing that quality is important. Dominic also owns a number of pilot uniforms for work, complete with blue jacket, white shirts, black pants, his pilot cap and some plain black shoes.
Height: 6’
Weight: 171lbs.
Tattoos: A single tattoo on his left arm, from his shoulder to roughly his elbow. The design looks as though it is paper or parchment peeling back and under it some writing.

Piercings: None.
Jewellery: Dominic wears a single ring, identical in every aspect but size to one his mate wears, made primarily from gold with Celtic symbols inscribed around it, including the Claddagh symbol, making it a wedding ring and one he treats as such. Almost as precious as that is the wooden cross on a cooper chain necklace he owns, which he never takes off. It is a about the fourth one he has owned, all the way back form his time as a human and he makes an effort to ensure his current one looks the same as the first one.

Body Modifications: Over the years Dominic has amassed a number of battle scars, both from his time as a ‘fighter’ and throughout the years of being free. The only one of any real note however is an ugly scar trailing along his hip line on the left side, the result of a plane crash gone horribly wrong and impalement on some of the wreckage. He has a tiny cut running along the inside of his right thumb pad from where he was turned.

Wolf Form

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Build: Although if he has to, Dominic in wolf form is capable of dropping down to four legs, his wolf is built for two and it is on two only that he has any real degree of movement and flexibility. His hind legs are strong and muscular, allowing him decent speed and leaping power when the need arises, giving him an advantage. Dominic’s body as a whole is rather muscular, every part of the wolf built for power and fighting more than anything else The forward limbs are almost as powerful and bulky as his back ones, although they are shorter in length. His front paws are huge, as big as a man’s head in size, with strong finger like paws, enabling him to crush and attack. Combined with the sharp and strong claws on the end of them, the dexterity in his font paws enables him to climb and grip onto surfaces, with his front limbs being powerful enough to drag his whole body and more. The muzzle is extremely strong, his teeth and jaw capable of locking done on almost anything and snapping straight through it. By contrast his ears are rather small for the rest of him, ears which he can flatten against his skull. He has a short and father springy tail with limited mobility, the limb typically rigid in place.
Height: Biped – 8’6”
Weight: 312lbs.
Hair: There are a number of hair colours all blending together in Dominic’s pelt to create the overall effect of grey, with hints of white, black, even brown and of course the grey which is dominate. Mostly the hair is very smooth and short along his limbs, designed to simply cover him. At most joints the hair increases in length by at least two inches and becomes fluffier. All his paws are extremely fluffy, partly because of the intense amount of joints there. The oddest part of his hair occurs on this back, from his neck all the way down to his tail where it is longer still and indeed the part at his neck looks more like a pony tail than the typical mane.
Eyes: Golden-yellow.
Defining Marks: His short springy tail, the ‘pony tail’ effect on his neck and his large, hand like front paws.

Pack[/u]
Pack: None.
Position: None.
Territory: None.

Hair[/u]
Length: His hair is only an inches or two in length all around his head, generally an even length throughout, with it increasing ever so slightly at the sides. Although he has a very slight fringe, it normally can’t be distinguished from the rest of his hair and he could easily be mistaken for not having any at all. Dominic has sideburns that go down to just above his ear.
Style: Near the top of his head and his forehead, the hair twists upwards into a series of messy, almost curls style, as though he has just run his hand through it – and most times he has. His fringe has been curled upwards as well, mixing with the rest of his hair. Around the sides of head the hair simply falls straight down without any interference.
Color: Blond with a few sprinklings of a very light brown.

Facial Hair[/u]
Length: None.
Style: Usually clean shaven as he doesn’t like facial hair but occasionally a faint and rough stubble will appear, no more than a days worth.

Eyes[/u]
Color: Blue.
Oddities: Like all werewolves, whenever Dominic is feeling any particularly intense emotion, such as fear, surprise, excitement, etc. they will change to the colour of his wolf’s eyes, as they will when he feels pain. Dominic can also will them to change colour whenever he wants, to playfully tease or if he is feeling mischievous.

Personality: Flying is his great release, his escape from the world and something that he enjoys doing immensely. There is little like stepping into the sky and just letting everything else fall away from him. It is not wholly about power for Dominic, and indeed the knowledge that he technically holds the lives of everyone who flies is something of a concern to him. He doesn’t like to think that he has so much power or that so many people and their families are counting on him to keep their loved ones safe. It isn’t even about the adrenaline rush he feels every time he takes to the sky, as though each flight is his first one. Dominic has always had a fascination with the air, with being free somehow. Part of him is also striving to understand the feeling of the fall, of how his victims felt and although he has never crashed deliberately, his flights are almost a penance of a sort, Dominic considering himself the most experienced pilot there is, hoping that his knowledge will keep deaths down as much as possible and somehow make up for the lives he took.

Dominic has anger-management issues. He has never been able to control his anger properly, or even deal with stress in a safe manner. It is something of a worry to Dominic, and he is almost afraid of loosing his temper due to the way in which he reacts. Although it has been centuries since his captivity, some of the ‘programming’ still lingers and is triggered by anger or stress, turning him into a near zombie who has to throw things out of windows, to defenestrate, be they items or actual people. When he falls into this bleak state, if left unchecked he will snap out of it only after he has actually committed the compulsion, must to his guilt and chagrin. Phaedra is the only person who can bring him out of it without violence.

Because of his problems whenever he looses control, Dominic tends to keep a tight lid on his emotions as much as he can, causing some people to accuse him of being stiff or cold. At work he is slightly more relaxed, flying giving him the confidence and so he gets on fairly alright with his collages, although he maintains a distance with them at all times. An exception is when the subject of Phaedra comes into the conversation, Dominic relaxing even more at the mere thought of her. The only person he trusts himself to truly relax and unwind around with is Phaedra, and so his mate sees a side to him that nobody else really does. He adores his mate, there is nothing he would not do for her, no step to far for her happiness.

His job takes him all over the world and due to the way in which airports run, he often finds himself at a terminal in a different country for hours, or even a night at a time. Whenever he has the chance therefore, Dominic likes to travel to the nearest town of whatever country he is in and purchase something there to give as a gift to Phaedra or even just as a memento to the places he has seen.

He is not a religious man, not by any means but some of his past remains with him, and he wears a cross at all times, kissing it before every take off and occasionally wondering aloud to himself, as though talking to a higher power. Dominic finds it stimulating to do this, and while he isn’t sure he believes in a God per say, he likes to think there is something out there, watching out for them. He likes to think that his parents and grandparents are watching over him, guiding him and so he tries to make them proud.

Weaknesses: As with all werewolves, Dominic is allergic to the metal silver; it can make him feel nauseous, burn him, poison and in extreme cases even kill him, depending on the proximity, quantity and the length of contact. Should it reach his lungs, heart or brain, not even his abilities would be able to heal it and he would eventually die. Occasionally his hip and leg ache, despite the wounds having long since healed, causing him pain and discomfort – on very bad days he even has trouble walking properly although he is generally too stubborn to admit it.

Occasionally he suffers from nightmares of people he has killed, such dreams disturb him greatly and he can’t get back to sleep after one. His inability to handle anger well and the subsequent consequences that come when he is overly stressed and angry is a major weakness, something he knows and worries about. Phaedra is a rather obvious weakness, as there is nothing Dominic would not do for his mate. He has already almost lost her before, through his own actions and he is terrified at the idea that it could happen again, making him perhaps a little over protective of her in certain situations.

Abilities: Dominic had all of the benefits that comes with being a werewolf, shared with all his kind; all five of his senses are enhanced, along with increased speed, strength, agility, endurance, stamina, balance and reflexes. He has a higher pain threshold than humans, and on the flip side, he heals at an advanced rate, along with the obvious skill to change from human to wolf and back again at will. His age means he is able to control the change during all three nights of the full moon, can stop himself from changing as well as retaining his mind at those times. He has knowledge of a number of different African languages, including what is known as ‘Kitchen Dutch’, a mixture of Dutch and African influence.

Dominic is a seasoned fighter, having years of experience under his belt and is more than able to hold his own against a trained opponent of any race. He is skilled in blade, gun and hand-to-hand combat, knowing a number of different fighting techniques, whatever is needed to get the job done. While it is something he personally had little desire to learn, Dominic knows how to dance.

He holds all the qualifications he needs to in order to fly airplanes commercially, as well as owning permits for helicopter flights if need be. Every so often he will update these as well as rotate exactly what he is officially qualified to fly so that suspicion is not aroused. Due to this he can also fly private and luxury planes, as well as having detailed knowledge of most of histories most important planes; both private and military ones throughout the years due to having personally flown them.

Weapons: He owns two Heckler & Koch VP70’s pistols as well as a butterfly knife although obviously he is unable to take any of these with him to work.

Prized Possessions: Dominic normally doesn’t hold too many material objects in high regard as they can be replaced as needed. However his current license enabling him to fly, his cross and his wedding ring are important to him. Without a doubt however, the most important thing in Dominic’s life is not a thing at all but his mate.

Home(s): Dominic shares a rather nice apartment with his mate, Phaedra, located in Cole’s side of the city.

history continued below…

[Dominic]

History: Dominic’s grandparents were pioneers in the most literal of senses; a middle class English couple with a single son who longed for something more than the life they had and when the chance came for them to emigrate, they took it. The small family packed up all the belongings they had, collected together all their money and settled on Africa, for its far flung nature and the hope and opportunity it appeared to provide. Africa was more the far flung outpost than the new life, with his grandfather falling ill within weeks of moving there. Neither were prepared to give in however, as they settled onto the southern most tip of the continent, living on their own patch of land and trying their hand at farming. For months it was feared that the grandfather would die from his illness. Bit by bit he recovered however and as the first anniversary of their moving neared he was almost as well as he had been before.

With his regained health he threw himself into the farm they had made, working the land hard to try and at least to make enough food for them to live. It was a hard life, a far cry away from the one they had back in England and yet despite it all, the Izzard family thrived, both his grandparents loving the wilderness and feeling more at home there than they had anywhere else. By the time their only son, William was old enough to marry, the farm was doing far better than just proving them with enough food to live on, it was making a significant profit and ensuring that William was a disable husband to many of the other British settlers in the area. He followed in his parents footsteps however, inspired by their actions and the wife he settled on, a woman by the name of Cathleen was a woman he wished to marry out of love and vice versa. Although her family was nowhere near as well off as the Izzard’s and the marriage would not favour them, his parents blessed the union, believing that their son’s happiness was far more important than any sort of status.

The couple settled in part of the Izzard farm, building their own home and working a smaller patch of the land. It was a good marriage, the couple honestly and deeply caring for each although. The two would often be seen together, even when William was working or in the town, the man refusing to force his wife to stay at home as might be considered proper and it was little surprise therefore when Cathleen announced she was pregnant.

Dominic himself was born in 1691, one of the first, third generation white children to be born in the tiny faming village – as it was then – of Johannesburg. Right from the start, he considered himself an African instead of English, despite his name and his parent’s nationality. Dominic was a true child of the bush and right from the start, he enjoyed exploring the world outside the family farm, enthralled by the wild animals and beasts that lurked there. The young boy dreamed of being an explorer, devouring the few books and pamphlets that were sent his way that detailed the exploits of men who had moved deeper into the continent.

As radial and forward thinking as the Izzard family was, they, like all the other white settlers owned a number of African servants. Somewhat to his parents worry, Dominic got on better with the family servants than he did with white children his own age. He had no time for those who refused to accept they lived in Africa as so many did, hiding behind the walls of their grounds and living as though they were still in England.

He also got on well with his grandparents, looking up to and deeply respecting them, the couple secretly amused by his love for Africa although they kept it hidden knowing that his parents wished he was more comfortable talking to people his own age and status. They helped to instil in him a sense of self-worth and determination, telling him stories of the far off country they had come from, a land that even his father had trouble remembering clearly. Dominic was only ten when a bad harvest and poor winter carried off both his grandparents, the elderly and proud couple finally succumbing to one of the many illness spreading around the world, despite both his parents and the doctor’s best efforts to save them.

It was a hard blow for the young boy to loose them, part of him feeling as though the whole world had lost something as well. The only comfort he had was the knowledge that both had died within hours of each other. He knew that the love the held for each other was deep and that neither would have been happy if the other was gone. It was a similar love that he saw in his parents and Dominic could only hope that one day he would be as lucky as that. As the years passed, Dominic began to get more and more involved in the working on the farm, his parents holding almost doubling in size due to the passing of his grandparents. He knew that he would never be the explorer he wanted to be, that he had a duty to his parents to help with the farm and to eventually take over the running of it. He all but threw himself into the work, hoping to bury the longings he had for a different kind of life.

One day, while in Johannesburg on some errands for his parents he bumped into another young man by the name of John Starr. The man was full of stories about the Africa he had always longed to see, the man saying he was an explorer, a wanderer of sorts, simply moving where the wind took him. He had decided to settle in Johannesburg for a while, to see what the town had to offer him. The two talked for hours, discovering that they had lots in common and when it was time for them to part ways, they agreed to meet again.

He spent more and more time with John, the two becoming close and dear friends. Dominic tried to prepare himself for the eventual move, knowing from the other man’s stories that he was a true wandering, unable to put down any sort of roots. To his surprise however, John showed little intention of leaving, apparently content for the moment to live in the town and spend what appeared to be an endless stream of money without actually ever being seen to work.

It couldn’t last however, and after four years, John started to become more and more nervous, clearly wanting to leave the town but for some reason holding back. One morning, Dominic awoke to John outside. He had not been seen for three days and Dominic had almost come to believe his friend had left without saying goodbye. It was a relief to see him alive and well, so much so that he didn’t question anything and simply came as the man requested, the two heading past the furthest reaches of the farm and stopping inside the tall bushes by the nearby river, almost completely hidden from sight.

John still looked odd as they stood there, the young man haltingly explaining that Dominic was more than just a friend to him, he was like a brother and if the other man felt the same way, John wanted to make them blood brothers, so that there would always be a bond between them, even if they moved in separate directions in their lives. There was no hesitation on Dominic’s part, the young man having long considered John as near to a brother as he would ever have and under his directions he pulled his hunting knife free, cutting along the fleshly part of his thumb, while John did the same.

Mere centimetres from their thumbs touching, John hesitated as though he was about to say something then shock his head and pressed both thumbs together, blood mixing. He appeared more regretful than anything else and without a word he turned and left, leaving a very confused Dominic in his wake.

It wasn’t until a week after that John finally admitted to his friend what he had done; he was a werewolf and by mixing his blood with Dominic’s, even though a small cut, he had turned Dominic into one as well. More than that however, young wolves were unable to control themselves during the full moon and it wasn’t safe for him to remain around his family any longer. In an instant, he realised that John had both tricked him and set him free, forcing him to leave the sedate life he led by irrevocably cutting the ties he held with his family. To protect them, he had to leave and although it was something Dominic had always dreamed about, he was furious that the choice had been taken away from him, that he would have to leave while his family were still alive and that the would worry about him – he couldn’t tell them the truth. John went a step further in his honesty, admitting that part of his decision had been motivated on purely selfish reasons as he honestly did think of Dominic as a friend and brother and hadn’t wanted to be alone anymore.

With no other choice, Dominic left the safety of Johannesburg where he had spent all his life in the company of John as the two began to roam once again. His first change, when it came, was a very painful one, but his friend was there to ensure he was safe and didn’t hurt anyone, something he was grateful for, Dominic having all but forgiven him although traces of the feeling of betrayal still lingered. The two hardly had time to do anything however before tragedy stuck; during the last night of his third full moon, Dominic somehow managed to evade John and when morning rose it was to find him alone. He could smell his trail and slowly worked his way back along it, confident that John would be doing the same and that the two would meet up again, oblivious to the group of slavers watching him from a nearby oasis.

He would have been overlooked by the slave hunters, recognized as a white man and so not worth the risk, because nobody would buy a white slave from Africa, but for one thing. It was not only slaves the hunters were after, but werewolves to sell and barter with and the colour of their skin was unimportant compared to their race. The men knew of a number of both wolves and vampire groups who would pay handsomely for good werewolf slaves and before Dominic had time to react, the trap had closed around him, the young wolf quickly overpowered by the superior knowledge of the hunters. When he next came too, it was to find himself many miles away from his starting point, shackled and in a cart along with three other male wolves. The small slaving party moved steadily north, with one of the prisoner wolves dying but another two being caught to take his place. The full moon was drawing steadily closer again when they reached the final leg of their journey, a black market for slaves. The bewildered and beaten group of wolves were pulled from the semi-darkness of the cart into the blinding light, barely having time to react to the change before the bidding began.

In the end he was sold to a group of wealthy wolves, a group that specialised in intimation and extortion. They needed body guards to protect them, wolves that would last and wouldn’t hesitate in sacrificing themselves if they had to, not wanting to risk their own fur. At first, Dominic resisted the idea, refusing to submit or even accept that he was a slave.

The group however, were prepared for this, having already purchased and trained two other bodyguards in the preceding centuries. All manner of torture was inflicted on him to bend his mind as they desired, sleep deprivation, hours spend tied under the hot sun, beatings, attempted drowning, anything and everything they could think of that would wear down his resistance while the group carried on moving from area to area, another way to weaken their newest member, to prevent him from ever having the hope he could go home again. Try as he might, Dominic was unable to hold out forever and like the wolves before him, he snapped under the pressure, and was moulded into the perfect weapon.

history continued below…

[Dominic]

history continued...

Dominic had no idea of how much time had passed, years slipping by in a painful haze as his mind crumbled under the abuse. In truth, over forty years had ticked by since he had first been sold to the group and he was now a fully obedient bodyguard to them, killing and defending on command, thinking nothing of himself or even having any thoughts that were not about the well being of the group, simply living from day to day, fighting when needed and hiding inside of himself when not.

As with all the ‘bodyguards’ they owned, Dominic was trained to use a particular method of killing when required, a signature of sorts to intimidate and strike fear into their victims. His was to defenestrate anyone who stood in his boss’s way, the werewolf ruthlessly throwing them from high windows and watching emotionlessly as they impacted with the ground, body breaking in many places. It was an automatic command, the order almost hypnotised into his subconscious, a desire that had to be fulfilled. In truth however, he was not quite as broken as they believed, Dominic refining his skills so that the people he killed died quickly, without lingering in pain. It was as close to mercy as he could give them, to limit their suffering as much as he dared.

They carried on roaming the world, as they had always done, staying in areas long enough to establish their dominance, squeeze the local population of everything they could; money, food, items, wolves or human pets to play with and then moved on, caring little for anything they left in their wake. From Italy they moved to the south of Greece, eager to exploit this new land.

There, they acted as they always did; taking what they wanted and attacking anyone that dared to stand up to them, with no regard for anything but their own power. As always, Dominic moved as the soulless killer, doing what he was told. It didn’t take long for them to encounter the Laskaris family and for them to earn the wrath of the group, the smallest slight setting them off.

It was decided that the Laskaris family would have to be taught the most brutal of lessons, in order to make sure that nobody else tried to stand up to them. For days they were watched, Dominic and another slave, a wolf by the name of Templeton sent to scout the area, stalking the family and learning what they could, to determine when would be the most painful moment to strike. It was Dominic who overheard some people discussing the fact that the family was about to have another life, that one of the daughters was pregnant, something he faithfully reported back with only the faintest stirring of guilt in his beaten mind. With the intelligence provided from both sources, it was decided they would attack that very night, with the family grouped together to celebrate.

Dominic was instructed to guard their backs, to ensure that nobody got out and to make sure that nobody came in. He hung back therefore as the rest transformed into their wolves, watching quietly as the group of predators moved towards the door of the house where the Laskaris family was obliviously celebrating. Templeton scratched at the door for a few seconds before the main member of the group lost patience and bolding slammed his heavy form against the door, it splintering under the assault. In seconds they had streamed inside, teeth bared as they savagely ripped into the humans there, showing no mercy and instead getting an almost perverse delight from the death and mayhem.

Hiding in the shadows he listened at the screams that signed the death of the humans as one by one they fell to the wolves’ fury. While he waited, alerted by the screams, one of the family’s neighbours approached the house, worried and confused. Dominic acted at once, diving out of the shadows and grabbing the man by the neck, squeezing and twisting so that with only a small ‘pop’ sound, his spine snapped, the Greek dead before Dominic dropped him to the ground.

When the pack left the building, carrying the unconscious young woman and even younger man, it was to the surprise of Dominic, as the original plan had been to leave none alive. With the sight of Ephraim stumbling out after them, whimpering in pain however explained everything, even before the wolf had opened his mouth to speak. Enraged at the sheer audacity of one of the humans to fight back, and although he had killed her, it had cost him his eye, the plucky woman stabbing a lighted candle in it. For revenge, it was too simple to just kill the remaining members, too easy and far too kind. As soon as he had recovered enough, he had chased after the humans, coming upon them as another of the group reared up to finish them off.

With a snarl he had gotten his follower to back down, transforming back into his human form before the terrified eyes of his prey, Ephraim demanded that they be taken alive and as they were and so the two were subdued and rendered unconscious without turning them. The group of wolves and their human prisoners slunk away into the dark, satisfied that the message had been sent and would be understood, Ephraim already having clear plans for his two current victims.

The boy would be sold at the next market of slaves, a human that could be made into anyone’s desire, the perfect blank slate but the girl was far too pretty for them to give up, always wanting to keep the best for themselves and a choice was quickly taken, to keep her as a human pet and plaything, until they wore her out or accidentally broke her, and then she would be disposed of – not the first human they had toyed with and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. To Dominic’s disapproval and slight panic, the girl was thrust at him with orders that he guard her while they sold her brother, two of the wolves setting off at once to get rid of their bounty, the whole trip planning to take four days. There was nothing he could do to change the situation and more importantly the idea of simply trying did not occur to him as he explained if she tried to escape, to get to her brother, the other wolves would only hurt the boy more. Instead, he silently let her take out some of her anger and frustration out him.

Although he acted as though the words didn’t touch him or affect him – indeed, he really didn’t care what names and insults she threw at him – part of him was impressed by her spirit, even though he knew it would be nothing more than a red flag to Ephraim, the man delighting in breaking down those that were most vibrant and alive. There was nothing he could do to help the woman; someone he came to learn was called Phaedra and instead as Ephraim entered for the first time he simply left the room. When the other wolf finally left, clearly pleased and excited by his ‘fun’, it was just as clear to Dominic that they would forget to feed her or even treat her wounds. Telling himself that keeping her alive had been part of his original order, that she would last longer and it was what the pack would want, he decided to take her care wholly upon himself.

He didn’t expect her to be grateful or even willingly accept his help but Dominic carried on anyway, bringing her a plate of food as well as some warm water and a cloth to clean her wounds. Despite the clear torment she had suffered only a short while previously, Phaedra retained her spirit, still insulting him and refusing his offerings until he all but forced them upon her, even as some small part of him whispered it would be better for the woman to die.

When Templeton entered the room as well, intending to having some unofficial fun with the woman, he reacted without thinking, defending Phaedra from the other wolf, saying she was Ephraim’s only and not to be touched by anyone as low as both he and Templeton were. The male did not give in easily, Dominic suffering from a number of blows before he was able to overcome his opponent.

As the days passed, Phaedra suddenly started to talk to him about anything and everything. It was only his training by the hands of Ephraim that kept him from reacting, keeping his head down, his body still although he was listening to every word. It became something of a comfort, to hear her ramble to him as though he was a person again, instead of just a thing and he began to look forward to the times after he had given her food and tended to her wounds, to when he could listen.

This state of affairs couldn’t last for too long however, as the group prepared to move on from the village. The murders they had committed had ensured that all the other humans behaved and it hadn’t taken them too long to take everything they could. Phaedra was deemed to worn down to be worth transporting but the worst was still to come. Somehow, Ephraim had realised that Dominic no longer thought of the girl as he did every pervious human they had played with and worried that the feelings might wake up the wolf, as it were, he was determined to stamp it down once and for all. Entering the room she was held in one night, he roughly grabbed her by the throat and dragged her out of the cage, snapping at Dominic to come to heel, the wolf obediently doing so, never once looking at the girl, knowing what would happen now.

They moved upwards through the house the group had ‘acquired’ for their own use, unease steadily growing in Dominic the higher they went as it slowly began to dawn on him how Ephraim intended to finish her life. In a way, it confused him, as all the other humans had been put down by whichever wolf had been their master and he tried to tell himself that it was all just a coincidence as they stepped into a room on the top floor. There, Phaedra was pushed onto her knees, as Ephraim stepped back and ordered Dominic to finish her off. For the first time since he had been broken, he did something different – he hesitated. He didn’t want to be the one to kill her and with a start he realised he didn’t want her to die at all. The shock of simply having a want was almost too much for him as the elder wolf stepped closer and whispered in his ear, too quietly for the human to hear.

If Dominic wouldn’t kill her, Templeton would and the way in which that male killed was messy and drawn out. There was no choice anymore and he moved forward, grabbing her by the hair as he dragged her towards the window, trying desperately to think of nothing at all, to return to the state he had been in before. He felt almost angry at Phaedra, to making him hesitate, for making this hurt and Dominic used this to his advantage, forcing the window open quickly and without looking at her, he simply threw her out.

Satisfied that Dominic was still as broken as ever and that the girl was dead, Ephraim left the room, leaving him alone to stay blankly out the window. As soon as Dominic dared, he slunk out of the house, keeping to the shadows as he crept towards the body on the ground, wolf recoiling at the strong scent of blood. He dropped to his knees beside the still frame, intending to take her body and ensure it had a decent burial.

And then the body moved.

He recoiled in horror, breath catching in his throat as he realised she was still alive; badly wounded and clearly on the verge of death, but alive. There was only a split second for him to react, and he cut open his palm, drawing blood which he then tried to mix with hers. He had never attempted to sire someone before, Dominic having little idea what he was doing or even why, except wolves had increased healing and she would have a chance of life. At first he didn’t dare move her, crouching near her and doing up her injuries as best he could, alert and paranoid that Ephraim or one of the other wolves would find out what he had done and more than once he moved to kill her out of fear before pulling back, thankful that she was still unconscious. After a couple of hours he knew he had no choice and carefully he gathered her into his arms and slipped away from the building.

The town was mostly unfamiliar to him, Dominic only having basic knowledge of the layout from his view visits to it as he sped through the quiet streets, weaving and dipping back on himself in an attempt to cover his tracks, even pausing by the town’s well to clean off all the blood on Phaedra. The cuts were already closing and he realised that he had been successful in changing her although he still didn’t know if she would survive. In the end he hid them both in an old hidden cellar, one that Phaedra had talked about. Quickly he made up a rough bed for her and placed her down on it, crouching beside her and forcing himself to talk to her while she healed.

His plan had been to wait until she had woken up, explain the situation and get back to the rest of the group before anyone realised he was gone but with the sun coming up he realised it would be impossible. For better or for worse, he had thrown in his lot with protecting Phaedra for the time being at least. A sharp intake of breath caught his attention and when he moved it was to see the girl finally awake and staring at him.

Dominic looked down, unable to meet her gaze as he began to speak, faint tinges of real emotion in his words, a far cry from the first time he had spoken to her. Carefully, he explained that he had gone to find her and upon discovering that she was alive he had changed her into something like him and all the other’s responsible for her torment. And that she had to hide because the others would be looking for them. He knew that he wasn’t explaining it very well, but it wasn’t a speech he had ever given before and simple talking was something he had fallen out of practise with.

She didn’t respond once he finished speaking, clearly angry and Dominic didn’t blame her; he could vaguely remember his feeling upon learning of his own turning and the anger, the hurt he had felt at that news. Slowly, he shuffled over to the steps leading up to the outside and settled down on one of them, staring up and watching the tiny patch of sky that told him it was still day. There was nothing to be done until night fell, the elder wolf keeping quiet through the hours as he was used to, and also to hopefully give Phaedra time to heal more and come to some sort of understanding about her new life. It was dark before he turned back to look at her directly and tentatively asked if she was okay and ready to move, Dominic not wanting to risk staying in cellar for longer than they absolutely had to. She told him that they would need money and that she knew where her family had kept some. It was a risky idea but Dominic himself didn’t have any better ones and so he agreed, even though every part of him wanted to get out of the area as quickly as possible.

The two moved through the quiet streets, all of Dominic’s senses on high alert. In the days since the family had been murdered, the bodies had been taken away and most of the blood washed clean by the townsfolk although the scent still lingered, made more vivid by the werewolf nose. They had barely stepped inside before Dominic realised what he should have noticed at once, a scent in the house that wasn’t a lingering echo but an actual wolf; the one eyed Ephraim, alone and confident, having been waiting for them to come back here.

Ephraim snarled out an order for Dominic to stay where he was, the wolf freezing in place before he could even think about it, the decades of abuse having conditioned him to obey his master no matter what. With a gleam of victory in his eyes, Ephraim advanced on Phaedra ranting and raving about her cheek, how she had dared to try and take one of his wolves away from him. Now that she had been turned he informed her, he would have to make use of her, to break her as he had all his other wolves. Mere moments before the crazed werewolf reached her, something snapped inside of Dominic, and he found himself moving again, his determination to protect Phaedra overriding the order not to interfere and with a cry of his own, he collided into Ephraim, the two fighting madly. He’d known from the moment he’d connected that the fight would end in his loosing – as skilled a fighter as Dominic was, he was no match for the far older and stronger wolf, but he carried on as best he could, determined to at least wound Ephraim, possibly badly enough to give Phaedra her chance to escape. It didn’t take him long to start to loose, and knocked down to the ground, his old master showing no mercy as he began to kick and punch at him.

The next thing he noticed was a cry and looking up in shock he saw Phaedra twist a knife she had managed to stab into Ephraim’s neck, killing the wolf. He stared in shock at the dead body, feeling neither remorse nor relief that his long term tormenter was dead, unable to fully process the fact. Dominic was hardly aware of Phaedra leaving and returning to the room, or the way in which she checked him over to make sure he hadn’t been hurt too deeply by Ephraim’s attack, only really reacting when it was time for them to move.

They fled from the town, Dominic knowing that just because the leader had been defeated didn’t mean the others wouldn’t chase after them. Templeton in particular had been moving up the ranks in recent years, embracing the role he had been pushed into and enjoying the death and torment he inflicted. The two wandered Greece for years, tirelessly following up any lead that might lead them to Phaedra’s brother but all too no avail. It was as though the younger boy had vanished off the face of the earth, or more privately in Dominic’s view had been killed although he refrained from offering that idea. They moved out from Greece, covering more and more of the world, exploring all the countries.

As the years and decades passed, he began to come out of his shell, speaking more and more, expressing views and wants and gradually becoming the man he had been before Ephraim with a few exceptions – one of which was his actions upon becoming angry. The outbursts shocked and terrified Dominic, as he was unable to control them. Only Phaedra seemed to have any impact of them and whenever she tried to clam him down, his mood passed a lot quicker, something he was extremely grateful for and in the Greek woman he found a closer friend than he had ever known.

At the turn of the century, mankind discovered flight, the planes instantly enthralling Dominic. He became one of the first to volunteer to test the new planes as they went through different designs, the time they were able to stay in the air increasing, as did the speed and skill in which they flew. When Dominic wasn’t flying the planes, he was working on them in some other way, getting to know the different models. He loved to be up in the air; almost as much as he realised he loved Phaedra. The male wolf didn’t know when it had happened or when he had stopped thinking of her as someone to protect because it was his duty and started thinking he had to protect her because he loved her, but the change had happened. Although she had forgiven him for his actions all those years ago, he didn’t feel as though he deserved anything more than they already had and so kept quiet about his feelings.

They were in the United Kingdom when the Second World War broke out. Fights between humans didn’t interest either of them, and Dominic especially wasn’t keen on anything that involved violence but he had been working on an airstrip just prior to the outbreak and before they knew what was happening, he’d been drafted into flying. Throughout the whole war he flew for Britain, and he knew there was a good chance something could go wrong every time he got into a plane but his stubborn streak kept him coming back.

Ironically, it wasn’t until the first week after the war was over that disaster struck. It was his last few days before leaving the RAF when Dominic took one of the few remaining Spitfires up into the air, doing a quick patrol. He had no way of knowing that the plane he had been given was one which had crashed a few months previously and although the faulty landing gear had been replaced, as had everything which had looked damaged, the structure of the plane as a whole had been fatally compromised. He hadn’t been up in the air for more than half an hour before the thing began to buckle under the air pressure, metal screaming in protest and falling apart under his very eyes. Although the moment he realised something was wrong, he had turned and begun to descend, it wasn’t happening fast enough and still high in the air he suddenly lost complete control.

It wasn’t the first crash Dominic had been involved in but as his Spitfire hurtled to the ground, he knew the landing wouldn’t be like any of the others, which had been far more controlled. Time seemed to slow as he fell, the few seconds passing more like minutes but the impact when it finally came, still came far too soon and although he had tried to prepare himself, it had been impossible.

Agony shot through him as the plane ploughed into a field, cockpit window smashing under the pressure and the glass shattering everywhere, including his arm which he had thrown up to defend his eyes. At the plane slowly came to a stop, Dominic felt the world fade in and out of consciousness, intense pain shooting through his leg and hip, something cold and sticky running past his eyes. The last thing he saw before he passed out completely was part of a metal rod impaled into his body.

He remained unconscious while he was removed from the plane, physically cut out from the wreckage and taken to a hospital where a full count of his injuries happened; a broken hip, his left leg shattered and broken in at least three places with an unknown amount of internal trauma and a bad blow to the head. The doctors feared he would never wake up again and even if he did, that he wouldn’t be able to walk. He remained unconscious when Phae visited, drifting in some place between pain and the ultimate escape.

Bit by bit, to the surprise of the hospital staff, he began to claw his way back, following the voice he trusted and cared for. He didn’t know how long he had been lying in the bed before he slowly opened his eyes and turned to face Phaedra, relived she was okay, even though his mind knew she hadn’t been involved in the crash. He gave a weak smile as she made some joke about him being late, able to tell despite that, that she had been worried.

When he realised he couldn’t feel his left leg, he panicked, not realising at first how serious his injuries had been. The metal rod had crashed through flesh and bone, and although it was healing nicely – surprisingly fast according to the doctors, something Dominic gave a noncommittal grunt about – his leg had been all but crushed and refused to work. With Phaedra by his side, he knew he wouldn’t give up, and slowly his leg began to heal, as feeling returning to it; first pins and needles and then terrible pain. The whole thing remained a blur to Dominic when he thought about it afterwards, his only constant the reassuring presence of Phaedra, somehow the female was always there when he woke up, when he could focus on anything beside the pain. She kept him from loosing his temper at himself and at the way the treatment to enable him to walk again was inching along despite his werewolf healing.

The British press, eager to keep moral high in the buzz of the post war world soon picked up on the story, drawing an unwanted amount of attention upon the couple. By this time Dominic had healed enough to be able to walk with the aid of a stick but he knew he would be no match for their past if it caught up to them while he was in this state and so when Phaedra suggested they leave completely, he agreed. It was strange to be getting ready to go on a plane he wouldn’t be flying or wouldn’t have helped work on in any form and for the first time he would be a pure passenger. His vague discomfort at that was nothing compared to knowing Phae would not be looking forward to it. Dominic had often suspected that her fear of heights was greater than she let on, but he had been too afraid to ask and discover just how badly he had hurt her all that time ago. He tried to distract her as they set out on the journey; thinking of anything he could to keep her occupied and emboldened by some subtle change in her, Dominic finally admitted how he truly felt. To his delight she admitted she felt the same way.

Upon arrival in America they kept up their nomadic lifestyle, and when Dominic’s leg had healed enough, he took to the air again, refusing to let the accident keep him on the ground. As the years passed, he focused more and more on commercial flights simply because there was always a job available on the larger lines although occasionally he missed the simplicity of a smaller plane.

Recently enough they reached L.A and settled into their usual rhythm, with Phaedra getting a job connected to writing and Dominic working at LAX. After so long moving around always looking over his shoulder, he has finally relaxed a little to feel as though the past may be behind them although he keep an ear out where possible. Right now, he is exactly where he wants to be.