While the deisre to be had hadn't subsided, I could once more think around my urges as my inner beast had more pressing matters to focus on. Every sound, every smell, it was like starting over from the beginning with the urge to pounce on whatever moved. 

The humidity sent my senses into over drive, making my mouth threaten to water with the copious scents of animals surrounding us. We hadn't gotten to spend much time outside the city, entering more rural areas caused a sudden, deep, sharp ache in the pit of my stomach. My wolf wanted out. 

I could almost feel Alpha's response, telling me to hold, refusing to allow me to slip out of this mortal form and into a feral frenzy. My skin felt as though it'd been consumed by flames, my body overly saturated in heat and my skin clammy. Yet, I was shivering. Attemtping to hold myself together, struggling to get a breath for even letting air out of my lungs might let the creature rip through me. 

Shifting my eyes to Verando, I know he feels for me. I can see the tension in his jaw as I take another breath and feel the creature hit the mental cage concealing it under this unworthy flesh. Getting into the large van, I put Verando close to the window so that I could bury my nose into his sleeve. His scent was a quick dose of morphine, conflicting my wolfs drive for freedom. 

Arriving at Tyler's parents, it was a chance to settle in before our children arrived in the coming days. I hadn't realized I'd need it, but Verando's insistence suggested he was concerned about my control. I'd been good, so good, it was easy to forget how tightly wrapped we kept our exposure. I was still fresh, so new to this life.

 Legardo would travel with Pascal and Steffan, bringing the children behind us on a separate plane should we have been intersepted or met with a hostile greeting. Thus far, it seemed as if the sleepy state was none the wiser we'd arrived and it would be my responsibility not to reveal us with a lycan melt down. We could not afford anymore publicity.

Tyler's parents owned a large expanse of land, surrounded by the blue hue of misty mountains that faded in and out of the fog. The 'Smokey' Mountains as they were called, the air slightly damp though different from the dewy mornings of France. The breeze was almost hot, layering on in a way that baked the incoming scent of farm life deep into my pores. I could taste prey animals in the back of my mouth, feel the flood of desire rush into my veins and threaten to trigger the creature beneath.

My lycan side rolled uncomfortably in my skin, causing me to flinch and wrap my arm around my side as if to keep me held together. "You need to find his name." Verando tells me, lowly. "You can't control him if he doesn't have a name."

My wolf scoffs. He was not like the others, he was not a being forced into my body but a creation from a piece of a demi god, injected into my body and mingled with magic. What was a name to a beast that was all it's own? He was the worst part of all my personality traits, my lust, my jealousy, my hunger for individuality in the shadow of my siblings. "Dog." I seeth, flinching as Verando chuckles.

"Play nice." He sighs, kissing the top of my head. I take another hit of his scent, pressing my nose into his sleeve. I finally found the meaning behind the pressing, the desire to be claimed but not in a sexual way. I wanted to feel every inch of him against me, as close as I could stand, melting into his person so that he could ground me to this plain. I relied on him, taking on his calm and succumbing to that which I couldn't control. It was a submissive behavior, a grounding and a check in all in one maneuver that brought me a moment of peace. 

The dialect of the man who shuttled us to the farm was hard to understand, much as he struggled to understand us. I thought Tyler had an odd accent, Helen had explained once that he was southern though I hadn't quite understood what that meant until now. The fact that Tyler could communicate so freely with these people made me wonder if I would ever master the English language. Focusing on that, I take slow deep breaths as I attempt to reel in my inner predator. 

Unkept highways rolled on for what seemed like forever, endlessly long expanses of green, carved into mountainsides and pushed through dense bushy trees wrapped in vine like leaves. The vegetation was eating the forest faster than the forest could devour what little of the road ways remained. I envision running through them. "Can we go hunting?" It's a plea, not a request. I needed to get out.

Leaving Europe and coming back to America hadn't been an easy sell but this would be the singular motivation behind our immigration. Verando missed hunting as much as my wolf seemed to crave it. "If you behave."

I feel the growl bubble up in my chest, only to clear my throat, averting my eyes in apology as he narrows his eyes at me. 

We arrive at the large front gates, Tyler types in a code on the pad, the large black eyes of some type of cow watches us from behind the wire fencing. My wolf lurches, Verando's hand rests on my thigh as I try and hold myself together. Helen whines from the back seat, we're untrained dogs but my dictator doesn't falter. It doesn't even seem to concern him, but I must remember he trained an army of the brutes.

Landon glances back and forth between us, the oversized van suddenly felt quite small. "Should we have brought lycans to a farm? Things are getting a little.. wild.. in here."

"Don't much care for somethin' that looks human but growls like an animal... creeps me out." The driver comments with a shudder. "Lycan's have some of the strangest eyes."

Tyler pats Landon on the back, "Surely it'll be fine? There's good hunting in the back acres, which was sort of my plan. We'll be hard to find out here, what with all the smells. Seemed like the best place though mama wouldn't be thrilled if y'all went and killed her cows."

"It'll be fine, Tyler. They'll behave." Verando had found his sobriety in the need for him to command the two of us.

My heart thunders in my chest, my body felt like it was being shredded from the inside. 

"It hurts." Helen is the first to break the stalemate. I catch a glimpse of remorse, Tyler was second guessing his thoughts. So he still loved her? 

"Get used to it, kids. It only gets harder from here." He mumbles dismissively, the gray haired man takes quiet inventory as we drive down the gravel road towards the large house. While we couldn't stay here long term, it might be the safest place to put our children until this was all over. It had been difficult enough to get to that perhaps they truly might be safe here. "Darrius will love seeing this."

Verando attempts to distract me, pulling me back to my human side.

"Xaiver, too." I insist. Though the smaller boy was to little to really understand how trapped they were in our home. With Darrius's origin, we couldn't let him outside beyond scheduled outings in controlled environments for his protection and others. Someone gaining suspicion of him would be the least of our worries if he happened to become startled or frightened. 

It was an odd edd of the spectrum, my fear of the boys abilities and Verando's desire to protect him. Though I supposed the threat of being ousted by a god motivated him to keep the boy safe. We pull in front of the house where a well rounded woman and a slender man stand to greet us. Tyler looks so much like his father, I nearly do a double take. 

Helen shrinks into her seat as the van comes to a halt. 

"Listen to those banjos." K teases. 

"I don't hear any music." Verando frowns. 

"What's a banjo?" I tilt my head. 

Tyler rolls his eyes. "It's a slur, ignore 'em." Hopping out of the van, he jogs up the aged steps to hug his mother who seems thrilled to see him though his father holds the somber expression of a man with poor news. "What's wrong?"

Verando gathers our luggage, chivalry wasn't dead it would appear, despite my new found strength. "Such a gentleman." I allow, though he is not looking at me. His eyes are distant, staring in the void of the darkened front door and for a moment I worry this place is not up to his standards. 

Glancing up at him, his lips pull into a thin line as he listens to the television humming in the background. Twists and turns of interior walls, the home was thought out and yet cluttered. It would make his compulsive cleaning erupt if we spent to much time here. "It's only for a few days." I insist, hoping the distress was coming from the state of our living conditions, rather than the witch hunt unfolding in Europe.

Making our way inside the humble home, we gather into the living room to watch the large TV. Photographs decorate the walls, mounted deer heads, interesting furniture in which none of it matched. Though the house was large, it's main function seemed to be providing sleeping spaces more than luxury.

"Suspect Verando Mercer and his husband, Nicolas Mercer, have fled Europe to tour America in the middle of a murder investigation. Public outrage is at an all time high while magic users world wide support the decision to flee, saying it's an unfair trial. An unlikely time for relaxing honeymoon when you're wanted for the murder of several diplomats who stood against Magic equality."

A man appears on screen, holding a sign that proclaims 'Justice for humanity'. "A lycan should not be allowed to walk among us unmarked, let alone the amount of power Mercer and his company hold. We should be keeping a watch on these creatures, not just letting them into every event as if they weren't incredibly dangerous. Now look, we are stuck cleaning up the mess and this is just from two of them fighting!" 

I shudder, not daring to take my eyes on the screen. Instinctively, I wrap my arm around Verando's, feeling the tension in his forearm as Randy and Cas file in behind us. It seemed we might never escape this side of things, but I could see the validity in their fear, we could be quite destructive. But, we were also trying to save people, we were trying to stop the end of days. While we could talk about this as much as we wanted, there were those who just wanted to live their lives. 

"Magic users should be held to the same standard as everyone else. Higher, even. We can't protect ourselves. We didn't ask for 'heros'." The man shouts before the screen cuts to a woman. 

"We owe our lives to these hero's and their associates. They have saved us time and time again. I believe it's time to offer grace and hear them out. Everything up until now has come with a reason." She attempts to soothe the raging crowd around her. "We have to accept there are things that we, as humans, can't understand when it comes to magical beings. I trust that the government wouldn't have backed them if they weren't out for our best interests."

"Not at the cost of our lives!" A woman screams in the background. 

"Turn it off, John." Tyler's mother whispers, shaking her head as she hugs the red haired man. "Don't they know that they've been surrounded by magic users for years? What a mess... ungrateful for the sacrifice. Out of the news one day and into the pire the next."

Randy glances at his older self, my warlord had his Alpha expression in place and there would be no telling what he was feeling. "So they blame you." It feels like an 'I told you so' moment. "Why are we doing this? Why are we helping these people?"

Tyler's father crosses his arms over his chest, sighing heavily. "We can't lay blame on folks who are scared. They would have shot down the plane if they were really worried about Mr.Mercer. My best guess is this is just to appease the public."

"Oh, we just call him Randy." Tyler excuses the formailities, earning a hard look from Verando.

 John clears his throat, raising his eyebrows before dismissing his son's attempt at friendship. "Read enough history books to know better than that, son."

Gesturing down the hallway, he nods in our direction. "Well, supper will be done in an hour if you want to settle in or make your arrangements. We've got guest rooms to the right, it's a bit small but you're welcome to any and all of it. We've got a lot of plannin' to do before y'all go off looking for the oasis." Scratching the top of his head with the bill of his hat, John frowns towards Helen. "Little Lady, I ain't seen you in quite some time."

Helen flushes, only to straighten, squaring her shoulders. "I'm sorry about that, John... I've just been rekindling family ties. Can I help Jan with dinner?"

The older woman storms out of the room and John winks at Helen. "I think you're best bet is to avoid Mama for now. Brothers are coming in to see Tyler, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you. So Mr.Mercer is your... grandfather?" He scoffs. "Ol' Boy, those lycan genetics sure are something. Aint seen much for lycans around here, restrictions still being what they were."

Uncomfortable with the up and down glance, Verando wrinkles his nose slightly. "A curse, really." He retorts shortly. "Randy is fine."

I swat at him to be kind. "Nicolas." I extend my hand and John retracts. 

"Mmm.. I'm not much for gettin' into ones business and such but, lets keep our hands to ourselves. I respect you and all that you've done for our son and our world but-"

Wild eyed, Tyler punches his fathers arm and I immediately put my hand to call for peace between the male figures surrounding us. "But you've got a problem with our sexual preference? Well then let me just suggest you keep on not having sex with either of us and we all just go on living our lives as if it didn't matter at all?" 

John purses his lips and I excuse myself, my quick departure making my husband follow behind me and prevent any more harsh words.

"Bigoted asshole." Verando spits, closing the door behind us as he sets our luggage on the bed. "I don't judge his amount of obvious inbreeding."

With a snort, I shake my head. "Remember he's Tyler's father."

"How unfortunate. We did want to go hunting, perhaps he's a fast runner?"

"Did you see his belly? I would say you'd be sorely disappointed." I make a face and run a hand through my hair. "Everytime I think we're in the future and past shit like this.... it just finds it's way back in."

"Now look who's being judgemental?" The light teasing brings a small smile to the corner of my mouth. "Much as I'd love to sit around and wait for 'supper'..." he shudders and I can't help but giggle. "Perhaps we should take this as an opportunity to hunt and ask permission later on what animals we capture. Eye for an eye or what have you..."

That sounds agreeable to me, with a nod, I wrap my arms around his waist to hug him tightly. "Sounds like a great idea. Also, I prefer you to call me bitchy than judgmental. I'm not judging him, I'm stating facts about him, large difference."