I don't have time to process the view before me as the door swings open, and Marisol shoves Helen out onto the front steps. "Go get some manners!" She spits after her, grasping Tyler by the arm as he tries to run out after her. "Where is your damn shirt?" The Spanish woman commands across the yard, flipping her hand in frustration.

"I rather like that shirt; if I had to shift, I didn't want to destroy it." His voice is calm, even as he takes calculated breaths. The icy gaze settles on Helen; judging by the look in her pale eyes the woman before us is Malka controlling her vessel. 

She bares her teeth at him, crouching back defensively. 

"I'm going to give you a moment to rethink your choices, you're young, but I won't tolerate that disrespect again. Now. Your name."

Hesitation crosses her face, she pauses, almost appearing to be confused as she takes him in. His very presence makes my breath catch, the return of the true lycan lord, the return of Alpha. The sight hadn't graced me since he 'died,' or so it felt. Shortly after we rescued him, the lycan army began to fall apart, and he let them go to live whatever lives they could etch out for themselves.

 Humans didn't need such intensity, such as domination, and the need for 'Alpha' had shifted to the demand for his more human side. A sane person would not miss their captor, I'd grown to love the man he was, but there was still a side of me that thoroughly enjoyed the persona that earned him the dubbing of my warlord. "You know that I'm not Helen?"

"Of course I do. Marisol and I are lycans, just as you are. If you were using your nose instead of acting like a wild beast, you'd see that. Smell." Her chest rises and falls and straightens a little more. "You knew that, though. You've been trying to get out."

"I suspected." She hesitates, glancing back towards Marisol and flashing her teeth. "That woman is vile."

I can see the grin in his eyes though it doesn't transfer over to his face. "She is your superior, so you'd be wise to hold your tongue. There are rules; you can't act how ever you like. If you value your life and that of your vessel, I suggest you stand down, or I shall promptly put you in your place." 

Tyler jerks and Marisol holds him back, jerking him to stand beside her with a look of annoyance at his lack of self-control. Surely he wouldn't kill her? She looks so weak, her body thin and pale, her eyes surrounded by dark circles from a lack of sleep.

She shakes her head, taking a quick step back. It takes everything in me not to chase after her; if she escapes, how would we ever find her again? "I won't go back! I don't want to go back in the dark! You can't make me!"

His hand raises, encouraging her to stop. "You can learn to share, but you must learn. There will be a time for you, but that time is not now. Helen is very weak; her body can not take much more of your interference." 

He begins to walk, taking deliberate steps toward her. The closer he gets, the more her body begins to lower, an effect I've seen many times. It would seem his stance, the way he carried himself, and maybe even his scent, was a beacon of superior breeding that brought many wolves to their knees, even after he gave up his title. "Prove that you can behave yourself, then we will revisit this topic."

Her eyes dart around frantically, considering an escape, but something in her compels her to bow down, to submit to his will. Helen drops to one knee, stiff as if she's resisting. 

"Why-" She grits her teeth, glancing towards the ground. "Why is this happening? Why can't I-" Her shoulders relax, dropping from their hunched state.

Marisol scoffs. "Because he's the Alpha. Even for a wild little she-beast like you." 

Verando's hand rests on her head, gently brushing back the tangle of tangle pale locks. Helen's eyes soften, almost seeming to darken as she drops to her hands and knees, panting as if she's breathing for the first time. I quickly crossed the yard and fell to my knees beside her, glancing up at Verando to thank him as I tried and comfort the frail girl. 

Her body is trembling, relaxing from months of tension from the first time. Tyler is there to meet me, practically throwing himself to the ground as he yanks her into his lap and hugs her so tightly I'm afraid he might crush her, yet she seems just as relieved as she hugs him back.

"Helen." He murmurs over and over as if he can't believe the woman in front of him is genuinely in her right mind. "Helen, is it truly you?"

After a long moment, she nods. "I think so. It's... it's quiet. It hasn't been quiet in a very long time."

I note Verando's eyebrow twitch, "What does the other voice sound like?"

"A man... an angry man." 

His jaw tightens, but he forces a small smile.

"Interesting. Well, get inside; Marisol can prepare you some lunch, you need to eat. There's hardly a scrap left of you." '

The event was not what I expected; I observed him as he put his shirt back on. I had anticipated a brawl, a display as I had seen in the lycan army, where the Alpha male commands the other wolves into submission, and yet, he reasoned with Malka. 

I think back to riding her down the beach, how she turned on me in the end and was uninterested in my safety. Understanding had made her resend; it would seem she was indeed just terrified. She wasn't evil; she wasn't a raging male on the brink of self-destruction; she was only a frightened young female. 

My time surrounded by male lycans had damaged me; I was unsure of how to act around a female, let alone one so young yet thinking back, Tonic was somewhat timid in his youth as well.

We pile into Marisol's home, and I see how different it looks: plush furniture and various wall colors that look strange. I take in all the contrasting, warm colors and the variety of furniture. I'm shocked as my feet touch the carpet and quickly step back off, yet no one else seems perturbed. 

All the other places I have been having had tile. The walls have big oil paintings that encourage me to pause and observe; I can almost smell the freshness of the paint and absorb the warmth they bring. How I missed oil paintings, how I missed my home. 

I cross my arms over my chest, taking in the stilled scenes that a photograph can't seem to capture. Photographs remind me of corpses, frozen stills of moments that will never be again, while paintings feel more like memories. Someone had to love it or feel it enough to devote the time to recreate it in their perception. Paintings were alive, someone's essence brought into your home by meer canvas. 

My poetic monologue pauses as I hear Tyler laugh; he hugs Helen, kissing her cheek as she eats fork after fork of rice and begins work on what Marisol calls a 'taco.'

"Oh my gosh, this is amazing." Helen groans.

"That's a good girl, much more polite." Marisol praises, setting down a glass of water in front of her. The slender female flushes and takes a long gulp of the water.

"Baby girl, it's so good to see you eating..." Tyler can't take his eyes off of her, can't release her, can't be removed from her side. 

She gives him an innocent glance before cramming the remaining bit of taco into her mouth. As much as she tries not to, her expression is grateful as Marisol sets another plate in front of her. Seeing them together strikes me on such a painful chord that it almost takes my breath away; there was a time when Verando and I were like that. 

So enamored with each other that being apart was practically painful. Would we ever get back there again? Marisol speaks to him quietly, touching his arm. Her body angles towards his; I notice she's wearing just a t-shirt and some shorts. 

Is it his shirt? Seeing them together, he looks so comfortable, yet I can tell something is bothering him. Is it any of my business anymore? Do I have any right to want to smooth the line between his eyebrows or to want to ease the tension in his jaw and neck?

I drift a bit closer, interested to hear what they're saying. "She'll stay here with us until we get control of this wolf; she's too independent to return to their place, especially without Reidy and with Tonic pretty much revealing he's useless."

Verando pulls his lips into a thin line, "I agree, she's on the edge of being a danger to herself. I'll call Marcello to come and get Nic, and let him know what's going on. I'm sure we'll be getting a visit from Legardo, if he finds out where we are, that is.. maybe I'll have you take Nic home?"

"Doe-"

"Don't, Kitten." They take notice of me and stiffen. 

I wish I hadn't been eavesdropping; I sit at the island and change my attention to watching Tyler.

 "Helen, I think you should stay with us for a while. Until we can get this under control."

She dabs her mouth with a napkin, smiling towards them. "If you make food like this, I'll stay as long as you like!" 

Tyler chuckles at her, brushing her hair back out of her eyes. Suddenly, she hesitates. 

"Tyler-" She pauses and shakes her head. "But... Tyler's training, no, we can't stay. Tyler needs to stay with Nic. I'll manage; she seems to be under control now?"

Verando frowns at her. "For now, because we are here. As an Alpha, she will do as I say for now, but she will come back, and the stronger you get, the stronger she will get. Helen, you're very dangerous in your current state. Our bloodline is not an easy one; these wolves are much different than your average lycan. If you hear voices, we need to keep you under observation. It. It runs in your bloodline, unfortunately, and it must be dealt with."

"Helen, you should consider staying. I'll be alright. I'll miss you like crazy, baby girl, but seein' you eat like this tickles me to death. Nic and Randy are together, so we won't be apart long? We'll come back?" He's watching me now, and I feel the tension in the room. 

I part my lips and hug myself tighter; what do I say? No? I 'divorced' myself from him, and he's a cheater? I laugh nervously, running a hand through my hair as I try and buy time.

Marisol clears her throat, "Of course you will. Nic will be around all the time, so why don't you both stay here? So close to the sea and out of the city, there's plenty of room to practice your trade, and you're out from under the cats?" She elbows Verando sharply in the ribs, causing him to grunt, coughing at the impact.

"You are a vile woman.." He growls under his breath, smiling, though it doesn't touch his eyes. "Absolutely."

Marisol puts her arm around the tall man, squeezing his waist. "Verando was just saying he's decided to train you, Helen."

"I did?"

"MHM!" I note the intensity in which her nails seat into his hip, and he squirms under her grasp, gritting his teeth.

"Sure." The answer is somewhat monotone.

Helen jumps up from her chair, running over to hug him tightly as Marisol scampers out of the way. "You are?!" She practically squeals. He flinches at the octave, and she buries her face into his chest before quickly taking a step back and folding her hands. "Oops! Sorry! No touching the Alpha, got it!" 

But a giggle bubbles up, and she practically jumps up and down. "You're going to train me! I get to be a wolf! Tyler!" She wheels around excitedly. "I'm going to learn! I'm going to be a wolf!"

"Yay!" Marisol chuckles, earning a scowl from my warlord that could kill. She punches him in the arm affectionately.

I feel out of place here, forgotten, out of the loop. How am I supposed to stay here when he doesn't want me to? Even if just an hour before he was telling me he didn't want me to leave, seeing him here, I find that hard to believe. 

The dynamic is warm, something I hadn't pictured for him with his attitude, yet I find that Soli handles him like a pro. Thinking back to our conversations it makes me relax just a bit because I know him better than this. Watching his face, I know that disdain is genuine; I know how he feels about her intrusion into his life and decisions. I know that I'm the preferred choice. Yet, the picture is somewhat deceiving.

Tyler leads Helen back to their bedroom to allow her to rest, her body finally in a state where it can manage such a thing, and by the look on Tyler's face, I know he's also drained. It's awkward standing here with the other two; when it was Verando and me, I could watch him and come to terms with where we currently were, but with Marisol here, I feel I must share.

"You don't have to let me stay. I can go home."

"I don't want to talk about this here," Verando responds shortly, tense from Marisol's generous gift of his time and home.

Marisol rolls her eyes. "Nonsense. If you don't like Verando's house, you can stay with me. I have a second shot at another life, and I'm not going to waste it over petty bullshit. That girl needs you, Doe. This isn't about you and him, or even all three of us; this is about that girl getting the help she needs and that boy learning his trade.

 Put on your big boy dicks and nut up; you're going to have to learn to get along again." She makes a taco and hands it over to the gray-haired man. "Eat."

Reluctantly, he takes it, taking a bite. Marisol smiles innocently before looking at me.

"So. There's an event tonight that Doe is going to; I checked, it's not canceled. I'm supposed to go, but I think you should?" He distracts me by coughing and sputtering on his food, covering his mouth as he tries to figure out how to swallow. "You're experienced with this sort of thing, and Mr.Sunshine over there is not quite impressing people with his nature; while I'm quite a treat, I can only do so much. 

You are experienced in making him look likable; go, and make him look likable. Some people there are of interest, some government officials and some senators. Getting some intel would be extremely helpful, and they might be more willing to talk to you."

This suggestion takes me by surprise, almost as much as it does him. 

Go to an event? 

While I did have the experience, it didn't quite seem like it was a welcomed invitation. Fixing my eyes on my clothes, I tug at one of the sleeves self-consciously. "Don't worry about your outfit; I have you covered. A man I saw briefly left a suit here, and I think it'll fit you just fine. I might have to alter it briefly, but there's time. Maybe a haircut... or at least some product?" 

She frames my face with her hands, and I'm almost excited for a moment. Doing what I'm meant to do, stepping out of 'battle' and into the familiar territory, was so refreshing. I hadn't realized just how sick I was of all the travel and the tedious nature of repairing continuously broken things. It almost makes me smile; it would be like our old lives again.

Verando hedges by the look on his face, and I know he wants to fight, but a part of him wants this just as badly as I do. He was drowning in his newfound role just as severely as I seemed to be. Though I was successful at it, it seemed the long term was not sustainable. 

I was miserable, unable to find joy in the life that came between the successes. I was also horribly lonely. The temptation of a family and being a part of something I had wanted for so long was too good to pass up to spare the grumpy man's feelings. 

"Randy.." I attempt, trying not to sound as if I'm begging. "What do you think?"

"Do what you like." He puts on his Alpha expression, stone-faced, to block out how he truly feels. Marisol takes my hand.

"We don't have much time; come on, let's get you fixed up." She waves her hand at Verando. "Just.. do whatever it is you do. Brood or sulk, punch something." 

Rolling his eyes in his signature fashion, he snags a book off the bookshelf and holds it up to us sarcastically as he flops onto the couch.