It felt strange walking down this path alone. 

I used to dread it, thinking the mile-long walkway to the city was just a waste of my time and energy, but over the past six months, it's become a ritual. Shedding the old being that belonged in the castle and turning myself into something my people needed by the end of that long mile. It was free space, time to think, decompress, or prepare myself and change my weedy body into something respectable.

Few magic royals held any substance; I wanted to change the face of that, to be a respectable example, not the forgotten son turned daughter. 

 I've grown to enjoy the silence, though the cold has become biting. The trees are naked, bearing little to no leaves. Their bark threatens to darken to protect itself from the winter on our doorstep. 

The sky calls for snow with dark, depressing clouds. I hope it will rain, for I don't want to travel in the snow in winter. I wrap my coat around myself and think about Loan's talk of warming the air to keep out the chill. I'd had a personal furnace for the last few months; caring for myself felt alien to me now. 

 In times like this, I wish I had paid more attention in school and made a better habit of carrying my book with me. Loan nagged me about this; I was too tame, too used to the discomfort, to push myself and my magic in the name of convenience. 

In my defense, Alpha was never comfortable around the book, and I always feared he would destroy it if he found it. This further pushed me away from my trade but also made me more self-reliant. Too often, my people ran to magic for every little instance, further weakening the family of royals. 

Now, it seemed I was scolded for not using and then reprimanded for using unnecessarily. 

I make my way into the city streets. They are more alive now than I've seen in years, not to mention diverse. With a city so small, we often didn't 'entertain'; my father much preferred to seek out other neighboring towns with people or dignitaries visiting us. If he was forced to bring them to our home, in the case of court, it was not usually an event that brought outside merchants or anyone looking for goods. 

We were a farming community, and my father liked the chokehold he held on the people here. 

An elf man walks with a young human woman, and her arm is subtly linked to his. They hunker close together, almost whispering but grinning like schoolchildren. 

Diversity. 

Something these streets had been lacking, a glimmer of hope for the possibility of change, I try not to stare but find myself painfully aware of them. The elf is from the rebellion; the human might be a healer. By her clothes, I know she's local. 

During my father's rule, a union like this would have been forbidden beyond a business sense. He didn't like to draw attention, not that he cared much, but due to our business with Man, we could not be seen with the likes of those deemed unsavory. Educated, high class, even if the people were miserable and, at times, starving to death because of it. 

How many lower-form magic users might get their jobs back now? With the Lycan's out of service, there was room to expand. 

It's a potent reminder of our work towards a life where we all can exist, even the lycans. The thought makes me cringe, for sometimes I feel like the only one who wants the lycans in this world when I should be the last one fighting for their cause. 

Loan had mentioned it was strange, that others would question it, and I should denounce such open thoughts. But, it was who I'd become over these last months. They deserved retribution for what my father had done to them.

Accepting an offering of a loaf of bread from a local merchant, I hurry along, pulling my hood that much tighter over my head. It wasn't wise to be exposed so close to our march on Taryek. Making my way through the crowded streets, I reach my dear friend's home.

The door cracks before I can even knock, and I spy the familiar scarred face. Tonic cocks his head, surprised to see me. He looks older and bigger; his innocence is all but gone. He's suffered as much as I have- almost a stranger to me now, and I feel myself shrinking. 

Who is this man?

 His chocolate brown eyes were cold, coupled with dark circles that stood out against his tanned skin. 

How long has it been since we lost him to the insanity? 

To the shock of this war and the weight of our situation? 

A week? Two weeks? 

Time seems to be a blur that moves around me, always passing but never bothering to take me with it. 

Tonic. 

"Hi." It's all I can manage, drinking him in, selfish in that I'm clinging to how much he looks like his father.

"Hi." His response is dull. 

Does he remember that he attacked me? Does he blame me? How can we expect anything from this man? 

There doesn't seem to be much left of him. "Stefan stepped out."

"Day hunting?" I try not to sound surprised, but I suppose the Strigoi has his ways. 

"Shopping." He doesn't embellish any more details. 

"I see." I breathe after a long moment. "Right. Well, I'm here to see you. Can I come in?" 

While he seems to be considering slamming the door in my face, Tonic must still be in there, for with a heavy sigh, he steps backward to allow me in. I exhaled as I passed him; he felt so much like his father, though his presence was lacking.

 The warmth emanating from him made me gravitate closer. "How are you?"

I go into the kitchen and put on a kettle of water for tea. The castle is painfully low on tea, considering it's all my staff drink, and the elves have also been enjoying it. As I place the kettle on the stove, I can't help but remember our intimate conversation that took place here. 

A hint of a smile curls at the corner of my mouth, much as it threatens to fracture me. I hadn't allowed myself to go beyond my most immediate memories, blocking them out for my protection. Beyond my complicated feelings for the man, I'd witnessed something that'd be burned into my skull for the rest of my life. 

Would I ever sleep again? Was it wrong to smile?

"Why're you here?" he asks. He doesn't leave the door but closes it, so I guess he won't throw me out.

"To see you." I remind him. 

He seems less than enthusiastic with that response, shaking his head in what could be disbelief. "You've seen me."

"Tonic." 

I watch the kettle, become impatient, and rest my hand on the side of it to bring it to a simmer. Tonic wrinkles his nose, refusing to acknowledge the magic, while I keep a mental tag on how much I'm using.

Grabbing the tea bag, I dunk it lightly, hoping he'd start, but he continued only to stare. "I need to know how you are. I need to know-"

"Alive. What else is there?" He's so short that I briefly consider that this was all a colossal mistake. I've come too far to give up; swallowing my discomfort, I decide it's best to reveal why I'm here.

This reveal felt wrong as if I wasn't the correct person to tell him what had happened. Weren't tasks like this suited for someone close to the deceased? Someone who was loved and loved them? The more time passed, even if it's only been hours and minutes, the less real it all felt. 

"There has been an issue... Alpha has.." My lips part, and I stare into the dark water in my cup.

  Did he ever love me? Did I love him? Was I just upset because I wasn't the one to kill him? These unfair thoughts tortured me every time the topic came up. Nobody understood; he killed my parents, and it was thrown back into my face every second I openly grieved. I shouldn't miss him, mourn him; I should be rejoicing.

"He's dead," I conclude.

For a single instance, he returns to his former self; I watch the surface crack and know that he can't hide from me in that brief instance of panic. "What?" The whisper of pain hits me as if the arrows had pierced my lungs.

 While I wanted to share his grief, it didn't feel like it was my grief to bear. He'd lost his father, his mentor, and his friend, while I'd lost something that nobody could put a name to. What right did I have to this man?

"I'll spare you the long story. Taryek ambushed us, and they shot and killed Alpha, taking his body. It was all a setup by Sota to get rid of me. There is speculation that Sota also arranged for the ambush that killed Delta.. and the twins." 

The silence is deafening. His dark eyes search mine as if there were a way out of this, but I've tried, and there isn't sweet relief waiting on the other side. There is only survival or death.

Slowly, Tonic backs up against the door and slides to the floor to sit. His knees fall aside, and he stares at the empty floor. "When?" 

"A week ago."

"Are we sure?" 

I pull my mouth into a thin line. That wasn't a question someone had posed to me before. "I would assume-" 

"So we aren't sure?" Tonic looks up at me now; I retaliate because it hurts too much to consider the alternative.

"Tonic." I sound impatient. 

Don't give me false hope, I plead, screaming in my mind.

"He's gone."

"Are.You.Sure?" Tonic snaps back at me, and I tighten my grip on my cup as if it were a lifeline.

"I saw him die," I say through my teeth. 

His impatience offends me as he stands up and disappears upstairs without a word; I take the opportunity to breathe out my pain. I hadn't thought of that or even possibly considered that he could have lived through that. 

Before I can recover from the onslaught of emotions, Tonic comes stomping back down the stairs, dressed in pants and a long sleeve with a vest and a coat. "Where are you going?" 

"To find him." Tonic's voice is frustrated. 

In a fit of rage, I snag his arm. "Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare be upset with me! There is nothing to find. Taryek took him!"

Tonic scowls, flashing his teeth, a wild animal no longer in favor of keeping me around. "And you let him."

I slap him. Hard. My hand stings with a satisfying burn; I'd slap him again if I thought I could get away with it, if I weren't worried that I might break the bones in my palm. His eyes burn with rage and I retract, for a moment he looked just like his father. 

My breath catches, and I clutch my hand to my chest.

"Did you slap me?" 

"Yes! And I'll do it again!" I threaten, resisting the urge to rub my palm, which has just met an opposing lycan force. "Listen here, asshole. I'm the first one to understand grief and self-destructive behavior. I know what it feels like to need someone to blame, but don't you dare put that on me. Do not turn on me for something I did not do. I would have done anything to save him, I understand that in the end I couldn't.

 But damn it, running out there and dying isn't going to bring anyone back. It's time-" I stop and sigh; I must put practice into fruition. "It's time to grow up, Tonic. If you want to do something right now, your pack needs you. They need an Alpha, and you're the best they've got." 

The air between us is still. He chews on my words, his jaw clenched impossibly tight. "I'm not an Alpha," he murmurs. 

"No, you're not. But you'll have to do it." This isn't an option. "He believed in you. I believe in you. You were present for most of his planning and followed his training marches; you know the men and how he would have wanted this to proceed." 

"I don't know the first thing about leading a group of wolves to war."

"You were about to go hunt down Taryek and demand the remains of a friend; you don't have to be a war hero to lead." Ask Adriam. He sucks at it. "We will be there to help you. We've talked about this: moving away from lunatics being in charge. It shouldn't just be strength and the ability to take a life that makes you a leader. 

You're one of the most compassionate people I know. You are so focused on doing what's right. I think everyone could use a little bit of that right now." 

His body tenses; I can see the tears welling up in his eyes and threaten to fall. 

"I'm scared," he finally admits. His shoulders shudder, and I wonder if he's holding back tears or trembling. 

I carefully touch his forearm, attempting to steady him. "We all are. So was he. Fear means you're alive. It's-.. It's going to be okay. Please try, Tonic. I think they have known that this was in you, or they wouldn't have been so hard on you. They should be afraid of you. You can change things. You can do this."  

Tonic throws his arms around me in a suffocating hug. I try to fight for air against the intense heat but welcome the contact my body desperately needs. Even if I'm shaking, all I can do is count the moments until he lets me go. I'm raw, unfit for such comforts.

I pat his forearm in surrender. "Air," I plead.

"Stefan is going to be pissed if we leave without telling him." He reminds me, steadying me with his hands on my shoulders as we discuss my trial while we wait.

True to form, Stefan is not pleased, and I can't say that I blame him.

 Once again, I'm taking away his newfound person, and I can see on his face it's different this time. Stefan has always been promiscuous; you tend not to get attached when you live forever. Honestly, with his past, he never seemed to want to, but he found something in this shy lycan.

 He smooths out Tonic's hair like a good mother hen, and I can see the embarrassment on the younger man's face. Maybe I'm mistaken in thinking that Stefan is in love with him, but looking at the Strigoi's eyes, I can see the endearment. 

This is how he copes, dressing him up to send him off to war. 

"And there's no one else? Baby, do you even want to do this?" 

I'm envious, in a way, of the comfort and familiarity. If I had left now, they would have lived happily together. He could be here; Stefan would take care of him. I can't say that Alpha and I would have had the same happy ending, even if he hadn't been killed. 

"No. I don't. But... they need me." The gray-haired youth exhales the words with acceptance, the Alpha mini-me who was afraid even to look me in the eye. 

Stefan doesn't look impressed, straightening the collar of the man's coat repeatedly as if that would delay our departure.

 His sharpened teeth find his lower lip and he stifles his emotion, Tonic catches his icy chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting his head to meet his gaze. "I'm going to come back."

 Stefan inhales sharply and swats at him.

"I'm not worried about that, you big idiot." He glares at the ground. "I'm going to have to find a new food source. Winter is here, and you run around with no clothes. You'll get sick, and then I won't have anything to eat. Plus, I'll have to take care of you!" He complains.

 Tonic smirks and kisses his cheek. "Lycans don't get cold." He reminds him.

Stefan wrinkles his nose, smoothing out his tangle of black hair as he pulls it into a ponytail. "Just-" He sighs. "Don't lose any limbs.. no scars... I want you just the way you are. None of this Valhalla bullshit. I'll drag you from the underworld myself." He wraps his arms around the taller man's neck and kisses him. 

I try not to stare and kick at the carpet, fidgeting awkwardly. When I glance up, Stefan stands before me; it's no longer me he worries about. "Take care of him, Nic. I know you will. But heal him, I mean it, no scars." He takes my hand firmly. "So this is it then? You're leaving. Right now?"

I didn't think of it that way, but I nodded. "The next update you get should be the final one; the war should be over." 

Or we'd all be dead.

He hugs me firmly and then goes over to the couch, swiping his hand to make it slide to the side and raising his palm to remove a floorboard. The book is wrapped in a blessed cloth. He gestures towards it, "You need to take this; it can't remain here." 

My body recoils instinctively, and I feel the book reaching for me through the cloth. 

"I'm not ready," I tell him quickly, earning an empathetic look.

"Nic, this can not stay here. You know how I feel about dark magic, that you and this book have a history, but you must take it. It would be best to make peace with it because you will have to destroy it. If the city falls, I can't take it with me, and we can't allow anyone else to access it. 

You have to destroy it, at all costs, this book ends with you. Think of it as an out; if shit gets bad, you have an exit plan."

  I can feel the magical presence like a heavy blanket; my throat thickens with the anxiety of even being close to it. The book is practically surrounded by a black aura, like jumping into a cool spring; I grasp it, clutching it to my chest with a sharp inhale. The cloth protects me but only just.

"Thanks, Stefan. For everything."