(Helen's POV) 

Helen walked as quickly as she could manage without giving off the impression that she was running from the sea of incoming questions, the wants for explanation, and the outright accusations that she was not holding up her end of the deal. 

"Madame, Echo is waiting for you in the city hall council room." Leo sighed, she was grateful to the vampire as without her grandfather she had lacked a mentor and it was so obvious she needed one. But, in his knowledge also came a call to action that didn't quite suit her nature.

 Much as she tried to change that habit about herself, it was easier for her to respond to a more gentle persuasion. "You have not addressed any of our concerns about what we're going to do about Caspian or what the plan even is. We've fortified, we've come together, and now it's time for you to make a decision. We need a leader."

Helen sighed heavily, scrubbing her hair in a familiar way that she'd often seen Verando do in times of stress. She'd proven herself in battle, she had traveled back in time, and she had done things nobody thought possible for a girl of her age or size, yet she balked at the thought of giving a command as crucial as this one.

How did they expect her to know when the time was right? 

So she had stalled, building up their supplies and assuring the safety of all the civilians trapped in this hellish battleground. They had hunted Caspian's armies but never so much as fired a single shot for fear of tempting the tiger hiding behind their lines.

The desire to hide behind her age had never been stronger, to fall back and let someone else take the reins. But, when she thought of me or when she thought of her grandfather, youth had never been a restricting factor. Lotta waves off Leo with a scowl that he should change his tact. "Give the girl some space to breathe. She's the head of an entire army."

Helen laughs nervously, filling her chest with air as they near the entrance to the council building. Soon, all of this wouldn't matter. Soon, it would just be the three of them and there would be nothing left to do but hope they were enough. Tyr had been crucial in assuring that Echo would stay, that was the meaning behind the warning that they would need the god to join their forces. Without Landon, without Tyr, it seems the alliance would have crumbled and fallen before it had even started. 

Especially Echo.

"Thanks, Lotta." A friend among foes, while Leo was adept in what it took to manage unruly mythical creatures, Lotta had been crucial in the finer moments of being a political figure. "Ready to get eaten alive?" She murmurs, getting a chuckle from Leo and an eye roll from Lotta. 

"The bitch can try, she needs us, not the other way around," Lotta tells her firmly, reaching for the door handle. "Don't let her get in your head, sweetheart. You're plenty."

Leo shakes his head, watching the ceiling for answers. "Lord help us." He exhales in amusement.

 As they walk, the overflowing council room appears to be a stage set specifically for Helen's trial. It was the moment that would decide if she could be followed into battle or not.  The final evaluation, had Verando's pass of the torch been enough?

 Echo was not only a prodigy, she was beyond experienced in comparison to the sheltered youth. Arms crossed over her chest, her entire company was dressed in metallic armor that alluded to little as far as her shape and build beyond the various layered materials. Stark yellow hair long and dreaded, with various beads and charms tangled down to her mid back and engulfed the fur collar for her under layers much like a lion's mane. 

Surrounded by her guard, she looked quite menacing. Wild, untamed, and completely neutral in that they only allied with themselves. Her face took Helen's breath away in how strongly she resembled Acer in her structure and her mannerisms. The pale-haired man had looked upon her grandfather and his mate much the same, quiet disapproval of the need to pick a side. 

Thankfully, Verando had not left her unprepared. She was well versed in the reluctance of neutral to side with anyone, let alone two. They would have to thoroughly convince her, they would have to make any other way seem impossible. Swallowing, Helen nods in greeting yet no one moves. 

 It was only Kestrel who looked at her as if he could finally breathe, who sighed in audible relief at her presence. While it made her uncomfortable, there was relief for her as well. Something within them caused a draw that tugged at her fibers and drew her in a constant pull. Opposites are drawn to one another, just as Caspian was drawn to Verando and Shadowcast had sided with his 'brother', leading him to darkness. 

It was darkness that would taint her.

 Echo rolled her dark eyes, pulling her upper lip up in disgust. "You're late."

Helen's eyebrows pull together, leaving the land of lore and entering the space once more. She lifts her chin, not shrinking to the challenge. "I'm five minutes early."

"Late." Echo barks in response. "An Alpha such as yourself, our leader, should be the earliest of us all. No greeting, no refreshments or feast? What kind of council meeting is this?"

"A civilized one." Lotta murmurs, earning a snarl from one of the guards. Their fur outfits and armor caused a stark contrast against the softer outfits of those within the ranks of the Spanish army, touched by French influence. Even though it was only their collective in the room, the separation was clear.

Being together in the same room for the first time brought on a lightheadedness, a righteousness that gave Helen relief to something she hadn't known she was missing. It was the joining of a fractured being brought together once more in merely sharing the space. "Why is it that we are direct descendants and Verando feels it necessary to give us a granddaughter? Where is his progeny? Where is your sire?"

It was the first of many attempts to flee, the first call to action that could fracture the alliance. Helen stands her ground, unphased. "My father was not the heir." 

Kestrel growls low in his throat, threatening the guards to stand down. His decidedness prompts the harsh retort of the two men standing closest to him. Echo raises her hand. "Down boys, don't poke at that one.. you're staring at Fenrir's future vessel. I know which side hell's spawn will take, it's only in his nature to corrupt."

"Not going to happen." His rough voice lowers to a threatening octave. The two-toned hair stands on end, his upper body leans forward as the large man glares down at the snarling guards. "We're calling you here because we're trying to restore balance, not track in the same footsteps as our sires. It can not continue this way and you know it."

Echo's fists slam on the table, flashing her teeth. "You know not what I know so perhaps lay claim on someone else's beliefs, Kestrel. You and I have too much history for me to think of you as anything but a mirror of your sire-"

"Enough!" Helen manages, clearing her throat as all eyes turn to her. She didn't need to hear any more of their history, she'd noticed they were icy to one another, it was not his first time meeting her even if that's what Kestrel had alluded to. "None of my grandfather's direct descendants embody the nature that was supposed to fall on this line. It was tainted by Kavanza's greed."

Laughing, Echo flops back into her chair to lazily cross one leg over the other. "Are you saying that you're the picture of all that is good? Not very humble of you, now is it? Have you looked around? Truly look? We're in hell, darling. We are the last of the last, the world is ending. There is nothing good left to be had." 

"My grandfather and his mate have gone after the unicorn. They will succeed-"

Echo once more lurches to the front of her chair, her movements feral and startling, it takes a great effort to remain still as the long nails bite into the arms of the chair and her wild dark eyes bare down into the pale-haired girl. 

"So that's why you were given the position early. Kavanza's son decided to play hero..." Abruptly, she stands, snapping her fingers as her company stands with her. "We are leaving."

"No, you're not," Helen commands sharply as Kestrel jumps to his feet. At the ready, the guards draw their swords, they are warriors, not marksmen. "I earned my title, you will follow us into battle, Echo."

In the stillness of silence, the dreaded woman taps her fingers rhythmically on the table before stepping around casually near Helen. In a quick yet slow-stepped stalking strut she circles the slender female with scrutinizing eyes. Her nose twitches as she inhales sharply. "Show me."

"Show you what?" 

Disgusted, Echo flashes her teeth. "Your scars." She breathes, a low hiss in her teeth as she momentarily nears the girl's ear and then twists away again. "You're too pretty. To fine. You're too unflawed to be an Alpha, to be The Alpha. Look at you, a whisp. You expect a neutral, the embodiment of neutral, to follow a girl who doesn't even know who she is?" 

It stung because it threatened to be true. Helen held her ground, refusing to show the recoil she so desperately desired. The words of that last talk echoed in her ear, "They will try and tear you down, tell you that you are not ready, but you don't have to be. You have generations of preparation to guide you. You have Malka."

"Malka." Helen responds, her voice hardly audible. 

The guards chuckle as Echo snaps to a halt, glancing her up and down. Her hand lifts to still their laughter and she examines the light eyes. "What did you say?"

Swallowing back the nerves, the light hands twist into fists at Helen's sides. "Malka." She retorts strongly. 

Kestrel straightens, stepping around the table near the female only to hesitate at the warning glance. 

"You dare call yourself the queen?" Faster than the eye can catch, Echo unsheathes her blade, infuriated. "Malka? Queen? A wisp of a girl and you shame our breed with that dubance? You're due for some manners!" 

Whitewind had been the original, the one to start it all but where there is Adam, there is also Eve. One is never enough, it could not create an entire race. In the times of the ancients, when the man was alive, he held with him one other. Malka, her name itself meant Queen in Hebrew.

Whitewind, was a man turned into a wolf. 

Malka was a wolf turned into a woman. 

The wolf could not be corrupted, could not be tainted by the woes of man and when she had found a vessel in Envari, the woman was immediately coveted by Kavanza in his greed and desire to have the object of his sire's obsession. The one who could not be tamed, caged in a human vessel for inside a human, she was in her most vulnerable state.

In a selfless act, Envari had freed her, but not without keeping a piece of the being. The queen had chosen her vessel, and it was through that line that she would be bestowed upon Helen who bore the blood of the woman who had cared.

"Prepare to earn your scars!" Echo's voice cuts through the injection of history. Helen's eyes flick up, spotting Kestrel running to her rescue, seeing Echo's hand plunging for her heart. 

In the slowdown, history reveals itself. The red-haired woman with the golden eyes shows her what move to make, her hand shoots up, snatching the offender's wrists and then delivering a sharp blow with her opposite fist to the pressure point in Echo's shoulder. Her arm goes limp, dropping the knife. 

The apparition makes another move, pointing her fingers and jabbing swiftly to guide Helen's hand to a point on Echo's neck that stunned her into backing up in a disorientated manner. The golden eyes lock onto the smaller lycan female as she smiles, making Helen almost smile back. "What did you do to me?" Echo demands. 

Behind her, the white wolf flickers in the distance. "Say my name. Call me." It whispers, distracted Helen wheels around to follow the white blur, a sensory overload with the whispers and the redhead swirling in her mind. 

"Take her down!" Echo barks, backing into the crowding group as Kestrel joins Helen at her side, stabilizing her with his hands. His contact with her skin feels like an electrocution. They're all too close, too near for the beings to remain separated. Helen's eyes flash like lightning, her body growing rigid. 

"Malka!" Helen manages as the white wolf rips through her clothes. Kestrel jerks backward, guarding his scratched arm as the wolf claws its way from her form. Fangs bared, she zeros in on Echo as the guards halt in their tracks. Her presence alone sends them spiraling as their wolves fight to claw out of their armor. 

While it protected their human forms, it prevented the wolf's escape and the men screamed and howled as they fell to the ground and fought against the call. 

Kestrel's body wrenches as he clutches his stomach, holding his wolf back. It is only Echo who stands unaffected. The illuminated female takes her stand, growling low in her throat yet her ears remain erect. "Do not threaten my vessel when you, alone, are the embodiment of undecided." She snarls; the echoing depth of her voice commands the writhing men to still. 

The snow-white coat bristled, even if she weren't the most sizeable creature her presence commanded the space. Swallowing, Echo dare not straighten yet she doesn't kneel either. She remains, natural, undecided as she evaluates the female before her. "Who are you?"

"Because you are dull, I will repeat it one final time. I am Malka. I am not the Alpha for it is not my place." Resting her muzzle, she narrows her eyes as she claims Echo's gaze. "I am your Queen. I suggest you drop your knife and show some respect before I teach it to you." At her command, Echo drops to her knees, bowing her head. The light eyes land on Kestrel, still guarding his wound. "You know what you're doing is wrong."

"I can't help it." He retorts begrudgingly. It was his curse, to chase the light and covet the sun.

Frowning, Malka's expression softens. "If you succeed, you will corrupt her. That is something I can not fix." 

Shaking his head, Kestrel looks away, not in respect but by his force of will. Kestrel was not bred to follow this soul but to devour it, he desired to be better than his breeding that held him to this role of respect. 

"There is no one more undeserving of this fate than you, Kestrel. But I'm glad the gods picked you. You might just beat this.." Yet her expression doesn't look as though she believes that. "Do you know his name?"

"No." Kestrel sighs. 

"Knave. He belonged to Shadowcast and he wants to join Fenrir just as badly as Fenrir wants to come to him-"  

"I know!" Kestrel snaps, gritting his teeth as his eyes darken only for a moment. He swallows back the anger. "I'm well aware of what he wants. He's not getting it."

With a nod, Malka's eyes lighten back to the icy blue of Helen's gaze. "I hope you're all enough." Her voice fades as the white wolf sways, stumbling backward. Helen's form appears on the floor, naked among her tattered clothes. Kestrel runs to her, scooping her up in his arms as he struggles to avert his eyes. 

"Happy now?" He demands, glowering at Echo who nods once, eyes dull. 

"We will speak more tonight at dinner, bring a feast this time." Overwhelmed, the woman motions to her guards as Kestrel carries Helen out of the room and Leo blinks rapidly at the man holding the naked woman. 

Realizing the image they portrayed, Kestrel clears his throat, putting on his Alpha face. "She fainted after she called forth the Queen of lycans. It seems to have overwhelmed her." 

Not expecting the truth, Lotta and Leo exchange glances before trying to decide who would take less of a beating for touching the naked granddaughter of the one they truly feared. It is a voice in the distance that brings them relief as Tyler trots down the hall. 

"I'll take over from here, thank you." He quips, holding out his arms to take her from Kestrel. 

It seemed to agonize the man to relinquish her and it didn't go unnoticed by Tyler as he slipped off his jacket to wrap around the slender woman and cradle her in his arms. 

"You must be Tyler." Kestrel assumes, his hands pausing in the air as if he wished to tuck in the corners and insist on a better method of coverage. Tyler holds her at bay, unwilling to let the twitching fingers near her again.

"Her husband," Tyler adds starkly. 

"You've been gone." Kestrel accuses. 

"Helen's a mighty woman, she ain't much for needin' me hanging around her." It isn't in him to fight back, to rise to the accusations of a man wrought with jealousy. It seemed to ooze out of him, emitting like a beacon that Tyler avoided at all costs. He couldn't think about it, not now. "If you'll all beg my pardon, I've got to get this girl into some clothes ''fore she catches her death."