We learned that the vampire's name is Cal and that he's technically a newborn in vampire jargon. He had only been a vampire for twenty or so years and that happened to classify him as a young vampire, still. His position was new after Alexei tore through many of Ameri's soldiers while Rory and I were escaping to Canada with Cytherea. Cal disclosed that Ameri has been crazed ever since then.

"She slaughtered a lot of men and women who were in her court," Cal tells, his eyes downcast towards the floor mats of the truck. "She showed no mercy nor any grief for her actions."

"Just like that?" I whisper, growing sad at the prospect of so many countless deaths.

Cal sighs, pushing his hair back from his face. Shaking his head, he turns to gaze out the window. "Many stay loyal to her, but there are some who wish to rebel or at least leave the coven."

"They're all traitors," Ingrid hisses from her place behind us. I turn to see her pouting, her eyes staring out the window in disdain.

She's tied up for the time being, until we can make sure she won't go running away. After Cal joined our pack by pledging his loyalty, Ingrid threw a fit. I almost assumed she would follow his lead, but stubbornness and loyalty don't always make for a good match. Because she's such a flight risk, we tied her tight. George sits next to her, quiet and stoic as ever, while Stefan has the other side. Alexei, Rory, and I sit in the middle while Cal and Elijah occupy the front. Luckily, Ameri or Timothy was smart–or foolish–enough to supply two vehicles for this pickup. Everyone else is in the other truck, following behind us closely.

I have no idea where we're going, but I hope and pray it's somewhere far enough. Plans still need to be made for how we're going to take down two enemies at once. If we can't, then it's curtains for us.

"Where are we going, Elijah?" I ask the man in charge. Since we've been on the road–for about an hour or two–he's been quiet. His grip on the wheel has been loose, but his shoulders remain tense.

"Believe it or not, Goddess, I have a friend who can help us."

Furrowing my eyebrows, I lean forward in my seat, pulling the seatbelt with me so it's not constricting my airflow. "A friend?"

A chuckle leaves the burly man and he nods. "Yes, Goddess. There was a time before I was a warrior and before I was part of a pack."

The prospect of Elijah being a rogue once upon a time is ludicrous. It reminds me that I still have much to learn about him and the rest of my warriors, even the lovely vampire we picked up. Each of them have backgrounds that make up who they are today and it'll be an honor to learn about them.

"What's this goddess business?" Cal speaks once we lull into silence. He shifts so that he can face Elijah and look at us in the back.

In the rear view mirror, I catch Elijah's eye. There's a moment of silent communication between us. His eyes hold questions, wordlessly asking if I wanted him to expose what we've discovered. Each of those mute wonders are answered with a nod of my head. He's part of the pack now, he deserves to know.

"The mark you now have," Elijah starts, glancing over, "it's the mark of a goddess. You may or may not know it as the triple moon symbol. For wolves, it represents the mark of the moon goddess. There are stories, supposed myths, that the moon goddess herself had her own pack. Each wolf carried her mark; a full moon sandwiched between two crescents.

"If any of that is true, those wolves are no longer with us. They're our ancestors, whoever was in the moon goddess' pack centuries ago. Either way, our goddess now bears the mark and so do we. It may not be so far fetched that the myths are actually true," Elijah finishes.

That was a story I hadn't actually heard before. I know the symbol, but not the history. It's a crazy notion to think that I could possibly be the next moon goddess. It's also one that isn't true if Aimilios is any proof to go by.

The thought of my ethereal brother causes my heart to ache, my mood plummeting. Elysium was in shambles last I saw. I can only hope things have changed for the better in the paradise I'm no longer able to discover. Soon, after this is all over, I'll return.

Blowing out a breath, I lay my head on Alexei's shoulder. She's still sleeping after succumbing to her drowsiness an hour into the ride, her head resting on the window. Rory is still unconscious, worrying me to no end. At the moment, there's nothing I can actually do for him and it's killing me knowing that I'm useless to my mate.

***

The ride takes just under an hour and a half. Elijah drives us through human territories. The modern suburbia is such a difference from wolf packs. Rather than enjoying nature, kids sit on electronics, their noses buried in their screen. Parents are nowhere to be found, whereas wolf parents always enjoy the playful laughter of their children. Cars and trucks sit in each driveway we see. The neighborhoods we pass all have houses too close to one another. Each home appears the same with the same structure, same paint, same car. Human suburbia is a much different world than I'm used to.

The sun sets in the distance, lighting up the sky with hues of orange, blue, and purple. It's a picture worthy moment that I enjoy from the confines of a vehicle. Soon, we turn down a side road after watching the amount of neighborhoods dwindle. A couple of single houses sit distances away from each other until we reach a mobile house that stands proud and alone.

A single black grill rests outside next to a white lawn chair. The walls of the trailer look dirty and worn, like it's never been washed. A pickup truck is parked a small distance away, its black paint chipping off and slightly rusted. I'd say this is like an off the grid type deal.

Elijah puts the SUV into park before turning the engine off. As soon as he's done that, the trailer door opens and a man steps out, a hefty shotgun held in his hands. This guy is pretty noticeable as someone who doesn't withstand trespassers. Cocking the weapons, he levels it towards us.

"State your business," he commands harshly when Elijah opens his door.

Raising his hands, he steps out of the truck and bumps the door closed with his hip. The man reacts instantly, putting his gun down to his side. I watch him as his mouth pops open and he shakes his head. His lips move, but I can't hear whatever he's whispering. Setting his gun against the trailer, he takes quick strides over to Elijah. The two share a quick hug, patting backs and speaking in hushed tones.

When they separate, Elijah turns to the car and motions us to get out. Trusting his judgment, I struggle to get around my mates while Cal steps out of the car.

"Oh!" I turn to George and give him an apologetic look. "You're a bit stuck for now, George."

Softening his face, he cracks the first smile I've seen on him. "It's okay, Goddess. I'll keep an eye on this lass and your mates." He motions to Ingrid who rolls her eyes.

I nod my head and climb over Rory. Cal pulls the door open after I grab hold of my mate; he would have fallen out otherwise. The vampire helps me out while keeping Rory in place. Dusting myself off, I make my way around and stop next to the two old friends. The nameless one regards me with a raised eyebrow. He takes in the tangles in my hair and the wrinkled clothes that aren't mine.

"This is the she-wolf?" he asks, sparing a glance at Elijah before looking back at me. "Small thing."

His words don't anger me, nor do they hurt. I can see that his intention isn't to mock me. As far as wolves go, I'm small compared to the rest of my pack. Naturally, she-wolves in their human form are at least five-foot-seven. I miss the mark by three inches. So, his observance is in good nature.

"Sophia-Grace Amster." I hold a hand out to the man.

Placing his hand into my palm, he raises an eyebrow. "Amster? You're Ambrose's daughter?"

"You know my father?"

The man nods and laughs lightly, sounding as if he can't believe what he's heard. "Yes, long ago, packs used to come together. A socializing event, if you will. We ran in the same group for years until adulthood hit. Ah, but I haven't seen him in years."

It's hard to believe that my father was carefree as a teenager. Thinking about how he is now, all I can picture is a stern teen who loathed anything good and fun.

"What's your name?"

"Call me Liam," he tells me, offering me a smile that completely alters his appearance. Instead of harsh and mean features, the smile lightens his face, making him seem nicer.

Before I can respond, his gaze shifts to Cal next to me. His reaction is instantaneous as he tenses and steps back. Curling his lip in disgust, he scrutinizes him with hate lingering in his eyes. They hold secrets of a past that hasn't been forgotten.

"You travel with vampires now, Elijah?" Liam grunts, his jaw clenched.

"Aye, you need to hear us out, Liam." Elijah pats the man's shoulder. "There's more to all of this than what you see."

Next to me, Cal shifts uncomfortably. He doesn't seem hurt or nervous. If anything, he realizes that his presence is causing a disturbance? But he's not sure what to do. Behind us, doors slam as my other warriors exit their vehicle. They've been patient the whole time, but they can tell something is amiss.

"You've brought a whole fleet with you then. Any more bloodsuckers I should know about?" Liam questions, his tone hard and his eyes still on Cal.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I look at him and shake my head. Not in denial, but in disbelief. "Please don't regard him that way. It's the same insult as when other creatures call us mitts or dogs. Cal is no threat, I assure you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't."

"Oh, and why is that?" His tone is mocking as if I'm a petulant child who doesn't know what she's talking about.

Turning, I lift my shirt, making sure to keep breasts hidden from everyone's eyes. When I'm finally able to get my shirt up enough to reveal my mark, I say, "Because he bears my mark."