Chapter 9:

It hurt. Everything throbbed and stung and ached deep in his very bones. Curled up in the tightest ball he could physically get his body twisted into, Kurt pulled the fur blanket even more ineffectually around him and let the darkness take him.

***

Blaine felt the cold biting into him as he sent the erratic beam of the flashlight clumsily this way and that, struggling to decipher anything in the swirling white noise of the blizzard. His fingers were numb, red raw from the icy air and clenched painfully around the shaft of the torch as he stumbled onwards through the forest that surrounded the mansion. He'd lost sight of the house several hours ago and was now wandering blindly in whatever direction his body took him. He knew it was lunacy to keep heading forward with no clear plan or any way to navigate, but the tightening in his chest that had taken hold the moment Seth's words had penetrated his brain was now making it difficult to breathe. There was no way he could control his body enough to stop and give in to reason. Kurt was out there. Somewhere. And Blaine had to find him.

He could hear distant sounds of shouts and the barking of the dogs somewhere behind him, unclear and vague through his disorientation, and he registered that the guards had been alerted to the situation by Seth as instructed. They seemed to be searching the woods to the rear of the house if the diminishing voices were any indication, although through the roar of the wind and the blanket of snow that muted all other noise, Blaine couldn't really be sure. What was certain was that at this point, Lord Anderson was very much alone and rapidly starting to need some assistance himself.

Another tree root caught his ankle in the darkness and seemed to wrap around his leg, twisting him unnaturally to the ground and sending him sprawling through the powdery snow. The force of the impact sent a gasp of air whooshing out of his mouth and with it all final resolve seemed to vanish. His leg throbbed painfully, gradually becoming numb from the wet ice seeping into his useless jeans and he continued to lie there. His hands could no longer seem to grip the flashlight and the pain in his lungs now left him shuddering to drag air into his chest. Blaine Anderson lay face-down in the snow and let the fight melt out of his body into the ground below.

The flashlight lay beside him, still partly gripped in his vice-like hand and casting a weak beam across the uneven floor of the forest. From his position on the ground, Blaine was able to follow the flimsy glow as it traversed the undulations in the snow before disappearing into the black nothingness that beckoned beyond. Something caught his eye on the periphery of the beam. A darker shape moved stealthily into the light before lumbering off again into the thickness of the woods. Blaine's heart squeezed up into his throat and a strangled noise died on his lips as he registered what the movement had been. Somewhere, off to his right, an eerie howl seemed to reverberate through the branches of the trees and Blaine closed his eyes as fear clutched at him again.

Wolves.

They were common in this part of the country; especially around the densely wooded pine forests that clung to the uneven ridges forged out of the valleys and mountains of the countryside. Lords had been known to hunt them for their fur, thick pelt prizes bestowed on their wives, and heads mounted on brooding dining room walls were used as visual representations of the Lord's power over nature. Blaine had never felt the need to hunt against nature; he preferred to exert his power over the human world.

*******

"Don't wander too far!"

The warning had glanced off the boy's young ears like an ineffectual blow, failing to penetrate and dampen his eagerness to escape his father and their grim little party. Solitude was all that he sought. All that he'd ever sought really in the oppressive walls of the mansion and to finally be out, amongst the trees and the elements and away from prying adult eyes, felt far more powerful to the eleven year old than any cursory instruction. 

Now he stood alone in the small clearing, branches dancing around him in the gentle breeze that had begun to pick up and feeling the thrill of dusk descending. The low whistle of the wind, coupled with the unidentifiable sounds of the forest, called through the trees and he felt the curls on the back of his neck prickle and stand to attention.

A gun shot echoed far off somewhere to his left and he vaguely trailed his eyes in that direction before turning around slowly on the spot, taking in his surroundings. He thought back to his Advisor's ‘hunter' training and felt something instinctual kick over in his chest. Breathing deeply and allowing his eyes to flutter closed; the boy let the senses of the forest absorb him.

Without the distraction of the trees' swaying limbs or the shifting shadows in the encroaching darkness, the boy was able to focus all intuition on the sounds of the woods. Everything felt heightened and each crack of twigs or rustle of leaves assaulted his brain like a whip. Clearing his mind of the obvious noises and pushing further through the layers of sound, the boy waited for the one he wanted. The snarled growl vibrated in the undergrowth beside him.

Flicking his eyes open but remaining absolutely still, he searched the shapes shifting in amongst the trees. A thin whine echoed out of the darkness and the shadow moved forward, haunches raised and black pelt stirring in the frigid air. They moved together at the same time; a small step of withdrawal matched by a bolder step of advance. The wolf prowled carefully into the clearing.

Time seemed to pause momentarily for the boy as his own heart stopped alongside it. The wind continued to drift through the trees and the air hummed around the beast and the boy, but all movement seemed suspended. He knew he should have felt fear but the throbbing in his veins wasn't that of clammy palms and shaking nerves. Instead the skin on his forearms tingled and buzzed with electricity and excitement.

Standing face to face with the beast made the boy feel truly alive.

***

As the memory slid through Blaine's icy skin, he felt the renewed trigger of adrenaline surge through him and it galvanised him into action. Dragging himself painfully to his feet and wincing as he tested his weight against his sprained ankle, Blaine let his eyes drift closed once again and opened himself to the noises of the forest. Another howl bounced off the bark encasing him and his head darted quickly towards the east. Without hesitation the Lord took off in pursuit of the beasts, knowing in his heart that to follow the calls would be the key to finding Kurt.

*****

Kurt was bound tightly, constricted within an icy prison. His cell was entirely white and the block of colourless light burned into him. Pressing his hands frantically against the slippery ceiling only millimetres above his head, he tried desperately to push his way out, his breath already rapidly diminishing with each panicked exertion. He splayed his arms out either side of him and found once again his movement was entirely restricted to mere inches to his left and right, and the exploration with his toes afforded no more comforting a reward. His breath hitched again and he gasped out a strangled cry at the realisation of his predicament. A box. A coffin.

With mounting horror, Kurt pummelled against the roof and walls encasing him. His fingernails clawed, chipping and grating through chunks of ice that only seemed to reform into thicker layers, stealing the air and space around him. He screamed. Over and over again he screamed until the noise dragged deep scratches into his own throat to match those of the walls around him.

And then more cries seemed to seep into the prison; cries that didn't sound quite like his own and were coupled with a strange snarling and heavier breathing than his own lungs could afford. The white walls around him started to shift and undulate, sliding backwards and allowing shards of darkness and black shadows to forge in and press down on him. He felt a rushing pressure and a weightlessness surging through his body before the darkness entirely took over and his eyes blinked back into consciousness.

Amber eyes hovered in the darkness of the trees, fixing solidly on rapidly dilating blue ones.

****

Blaine heard the snarls increasing as he moved closer through the forest. He'd changed from a sprint to a more cautious advance now as he sensed the wolves' nearing proximity and relied entirely on his ears to draw him ever closer. As he navigated another deformed root, a small whimper cut through the air and his chest spasmed again. Kurt. Unmistakably Kurt. With an even greater sense of urgency, Blaine pushed through the final thick layer of the forest and stumbled into a slightly wider clearing.

Three wolves surrounded the base of the twisted tree trunk that spiralled out of the dark earth. Their black fur shone almost silver in the slight moonlight that peeked through the heavy clouds and dense canopy of the forest, and Blaine felt his own hackles rise in response to the sight. Panting steadily, the air humming around them, Blaine heard a second whimper gasp out from the darkness at the foot of the tree. Despite not being able to make out Kurt's body in the gloom, Blaine knew that the three pairs of eyes were trained levelly on a slumped, slightly darker shadow curled into the crawling roots that could only be his Sub. He stifled his own cry of fear. Kurt hadn't seen him; he seemed to be laying under some form of fur blanket that sheathed his body and his head was curled inwards, seemingly in an attempt to block out the grotesque sight of the beasts advancing on his pathetic form. The sight of his Subordinate so vulnerable and petrified made something dark shift inside of the Lord and wash through him.  

Summoning all the strength inside himself, Blaine Anderson let out a gut-wrenching animalistic scream. The visceral pain of the noise bounced off the trees, pounding against bark and mud and shot directly into the boy crouched in the dark. Kurt's head leapt up at the sound, his frantic, pale eyes locking with Blaine's for the briefest of seconds before flicking rapidly back to the wolves. The effect of the scream on the creatures was instant. Turning as one, gleaming eyes fixed on the Lord's own dangerously black stare, they faced each other.

Kurt's terrified expression darted from beast to lord to beast again. As the darkness rolled on into the forest he couldn't see where the true monster lay.

The standoff continued; paused time held with panting breaths and throbbing pulses and the earth beneath Blaine's feet seemed to vibrate with electricity. He wanted to look towards Kurt, to see if he was ok, but the power of the wolves held him transfixed. The light shifted slightly in the clearing, the moon pushing out of the cloud cover and illuminating the snow between them.

Kurt watched as it seemed to cast a shadow directly between the wolves and Blaine, marking a line in the ground and bathing the Lord in an ethereal silver glow. He gasped involuntarily at the glittering light playing off Blaine's dark curls and the tiny sliver of sound broke the spell. The wolves seemed to flinch together, hair standing on end and eyes darting between boy and man before they uttered a wounded whimper and suddenly withdrew, lumbering off into the darkness of the forest.

Silence slid down over the clearing and covered both men who remained immobile, held in the moment with panting breaths. Kurt had averted his eyes now, feeling a strange sense of momentary relief wash over him at the disappearance of the wolves before the icy cold seeped back in again as he felt the shifting presence of the other, more familiar beast. Cold hands grasped at his shoulders as the Lord's body dropped down in front of him and Kurt flinched away from the touch, trying to crawl back into the meagre warmth of the fur blanket, slipping from his body.

"Kurt, please. Are you hurt? Kurt? Can you hear me?"

The voice that came out of Blaine was desperate and choked, panic clearly dragging the sounds out of his throat as he shook his limp Sub, but Kurt remained boneless, a rag doll unyielding to the pleading words of the Lord.

"Kurt? Look at me. Open your eyes." He could feel the command in the voice, the attempt at control but it was so weak, drowned out by the more obvious rasping fear that filled his words. It was new; this sound. It was vulnerable and sounded almost weak and if Kurt had been remotely able to, he might have seen a change in the man's eyes, something real and alive and in pain. But he couldn't do it. Couldn't bring himself to look at his aggressor, his tormentor who had been the reason for his escape in the first place. He'd nearly done it. Nearly made it out of the raging fires of the Anderson hell and into the icy nothingness beyond, but here he was again. In his arms. In his grasp. Listening to the same orders. The pain of his reality shot through him and he was paralysed. Finally broken and completely surrendered to his fate now, Kurt kept his eyes firmly closed and welcomed back the darkness.

Blaine was frantic now. The unresponsive body of Kurt flopped uselessly in his arms as he gripped the boys head, pulling at his face to look at him. He cradled the body against his chest, smoothing the ice soaked hair back from his face and trying desperately to breathe some kind of warmth into the frozen skin. He knew hypothermia was a very real danger at this point and although he could feel the tiny reed thin breath against his cheek when he placed his ear to Kurt's mouth, he found little comfort there. Kurt was almost blue, his lips bloodless and chapped and his skin almost translucent against the snow.

There was no time.

Blaine looked desperately around him, his eyes scanning the oppressive gloom of the dense trees that surrounded them. His own chest felt like he was being stabbed with every breath he drew and his limbs were unresponsive when he tried to move both him and Kurt from their seated position. Twisting his body so that Kurt was positioned between his legs, curled into a foetal position, Blaine painfully slid his arms beneath his Sub's knees and flung his arm around his neck, attempting to hold it in place. He tried to lever them both up from the ground but immediately Kurt's limp arm flopped out of position making it nigh-on impossible to lift him. After three attempts Blaine howled out his frustration and increasing panic into the night, slumping his head against the unconscious man's stomach and letting out an anguished growl.

"Kurt, I can't do this on my own!" he screamed against the frozen flesh. "You have to help me. Please, Kurt. Just wake up and help me."

Resting his head against his Sub, the Lord felt the rise and fall of the boy's chest beneath him, telling him he was still alive, for now. His limbs seemed wasted; all former strength had vanished into the powdery bed beneath them and he curled against the other body in defeat.

Everything was unfamiliar to him. The tightening of his chest when he looked at Kurt. The desperation he felt to claw at the skin and pull against it until Kurt came back to him. The bubbling panic that had rippled under his skin when he'd fled into the night after the strange boy. He'd never cared about anyone else in this world; never had to care about anyone because no one else had ever really been there. He didn't understand why. He couldn't understand what Kurt was, what Kurt had done to him. Nothing made sense and nothing was recognisable to him and everything hurt. 

In the frozen, icy caverns of Lord Anderson's heart, the steady drip that had started the moment Kurt had walked into the mansion started to overflow. Laying in the frigid earth, the unconscious boy beneath his head, Blaine began to cry.

****

Dawn was starting to paint a silvery golden light across the snow when Lord Anderson finally felt the body beneath him shift. Swiping hurriedly at the telling dampness on his cheeks, Blaine pulled his chest up and found himself staring down into Kurt's colourless face. The blue eyes that met his own were cold and lifeless. Allowing himself little time to acknowledge the dejected and unrecognisable face of his Sub, Blaine grabbed at the flesh beneath him, recoiling in horror at the icy skin and the desperately faint pulse flickering quietly inside the limp body.

"You have to move, Kurt. You have to help me!" he urged. There was a forcefulness to his voice that had been absent in his broken anguish of the hours before and seeing Kurt's conscious, albeit blank eyes, had brought a strength back that the Lord didn't think he'd had left. Kurt remained impassive but seemed to make an attempt to lift his head slightly. The effort was fruitless as his frozen body failed to comply and his neck slipped back again into the snow.

"No. No, come on Kurt. I can do most of it; you just need to hold on. Can you do that Kurt? Kurt, look at me." he clutched at the face that was dejectedly turning away from his to stare blankly across the snow. "Look at me, Kurt! You're going to die here. Can you hear me? You're going to die! And I'm not about to just watch! I'm not. Now MOVE!"

He was shouting now, hauling at the inert body beneath him as he yanked him into his tight grip again and forced his arm around his neck like he'd attempted when Kurt had been unconscious. "Just hold on. That's all you need to do. Just hold on, Kurt.....please. Please just hold on."

The desperation in Blaine's voice had fallen on deaf ears as Kurt tried to will himself back into the dark bliss of oblivion, but his head snapped around suddenly at the almost inaudible "please" that his Lord had begged into his neck. Lord Anderson never begged. Never. Blaine had only ever asked two things of him in the short time they'd been twined together. 

Both times he'd been pleading for Kurt to stay.

His fingers pressed against the Lord's neck in the gentlest of grips and he slowly turned his body into the arms of his master.

Blaine's reaction was instant. The slight pressure of Kurt's fingers told him enough and with an inhuman groan he hauled their bodies up to a standing position. Teeth gritted against the cold and the screaming in his body, Lord Anderson cradled the fragile body tighter in his arms and turned towards the direction of the mansion. He lurched forward unsteadily a few steps before finally howling out the pain and, gathering everything he had left, pressed onwards into the trees.