"Temp, come on, you need to eat," I complained, dropping the spoonful of oatmeal back into the bowl after another unsuccessful attempt at feeding him. It still wasn't a pleasing sight to see him tied to the chair, especially because it was Temp - it was strange to see him helpless. During our time together over the years at the facility, I had always thought of him as incredibly hard and invincible with his muscular build. His broad shoulders were hunched forward, connected to large arms that were tight and cut, securely tied back. His raggedy pants hugged his powerful legs, heavy with muscle, and as he shifted, the chair groaned beneath him. His long body, reaching the height of 6'3, which was a big ball of testosterone, almost dwarfed the chair. His hair was matted to his sweaty forehead and his eyes were narrowed at me. "Do you want to die from starvation?"

He pinched his lips together, silent.

Exhaling loudly, I placed down the bowl and grabbed the bottle of water. "At least drink something - you can only survive three days without water."

I lifted the bottle to his lips, noticing that his bottom was oddly swollen and bruised. Relief washed through me when his lips parted and he accepted the cool liquid - but then, he literally spit the water into my face. I gaped and disgusted, stepped away with my whole face drenched. Looking at him, I wasn't surprised to find a prideful look on his face, followed by a scowl. I wiped the water away on my shirt and flopped back down on the chair across from him, frustrated. "I understand why you're angry, but maybe if we come to an agreement, we can get you out of that chair, okay?"

He huffed, but didn't respond.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment now?" I asked, annoyed. "How childish."

"You're childish!"

I grinned. "Look who responded." He tilted his head back, swearing under his breath. "Just talk to me, Temp. I want to fix this. Please."

"Why don't you go talk to your mate?" he retorted, harshly. "You don't need me."

"That's not true," I argued, frowning. "Temp, it doesn't need to be this way between us. I know things have changed, but I need you right now." Noticing the desperation in my voice, he exhaled loudly and cocked an eyebrow, somewhat curious. "I did something. . . I, well, I killed Tyler. He recognized me from the facility a-and I needed to protect us. I killed him and I'm afraid it's going to backfire; I'm on edge and I'm just stuck." Unfazed, he stared at me, listening. "I have this bloodthirsty pack outside, waiting for orders from me. I just killed an Alpha's brother. The government is surely preparing to attack soon. Ethen found out about the m-mark." I held up my wrist, gesturing towards the embarrassing mark. "Things are getting worse and worse - I don't know what to do anymore."

He shrugged. "That's not my problem."

"Yeah, you're right," I muttered, leaning forward. "I don't know. I guess I was just hoping you could help me, but I get it - why should you?" I eyed his figure in the chair, knowing I was the one who had put him there after betraying him. "I've screwed up."

"Hell yeah," he agreed, shifting in the chair. "Why don't you go ask your mate for help, huh? I'm sure he cares more than I do."

"We got into a fight," I told him, quietly. "And, I don't want his help. I want yours." He shook his head in disbelief, releasing an unenthusiastic laugh. "I want my best friend's help."

"I am not your best friend."

"Yes, you are," I countered, seriously. "I know our friendship hasn't always been great, but you've always been there for me. I've known you longer than anyone here; hell, you've seen the worst of me. You were at my side during every step to get to this point and I know I've screwed up. It was wrong of me to betray you, but I can't lose you." My chest grew heavy as I watched his face, which remained emotionless. "Not now. Not when we've come this far." When he didn't respond, I added, "Whether you like it or not, you're my best friend. Your ass owns that position."

He gritted his teeth together. "I don't want that position." He straightened, pulling back his shoulders. "I don't want anything to do with you."

Holding back the tears, I responded, "I don't want to die with you hating me."

"You aren't going to die."

"It's a possibility," I told him, shakily. "I'm barely keeping control of the pack outside - one day, they might flip out and turn on me. There's the chance of Drew finding out that I killed his brother and Amanda is preparing for a war that we might not win." He dropped his head in thought and I gestured between us, helplessly. "We could die tomorrow, Temp. Please, just forgive me. I-I'll let you out of that chair when we come to a compromise."

"And, what would that compromise be?" he asked, harshly. "That I don't harm your mate? That I forget all of this and we all work together?"

I hesitated. "Something like that."

"Fuck no."

"You're being stubborn," I groaned, digging my fingernails into my thighs. "I don't like having you tied up in here, Temp. I want you back at my side like before."

He avoided my eyes. "That sucks."

"What do you want me to say?" I asked, exasperated. "I've already apologized and -"

"Nothing else needs to be said," he interrupted, raising his chin. "I don't forgive you; I want nothing to do with you, Thea. I'd rather sit here in this chair and slowly perish than make a compromise to work with you and your mate." The venom dripping from his words made me wince and I placed my fingers against my temples, tiredly. "You can leave now - oh, and make sure the door doesn't hit you on the way out. Actually, let it; you deserve it."

"Okay, that was rude."

"It was intended to be."

I folded my arms across my chest. "So, there's nothing that I can say that'll make you forgive me?" He shook his head response, glaring at me. "Is there anything that I can do?"

He shrugged. "Untie me."

"I'm not stupid."

"If you say so." Taking a deep breath, I rose to my feet and headed to the door, too tired to handle him anymore. As I twisted the doorknob, I heard him clear his throat. "When I was a kid, my mother once told me the Tale of Two Wolves." Confused, I slowly turned around, peering at him through the dim room. "It's about the battle that goes on inside of us. One wolf is evil - he's jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance. The other is good - joy, peace, love, kindness, hope. Now, which one wins?" I bit my bottom lip, tilting my head at his sudden topic. "The one you feed." Glancing around the room, he continued, "I guess the tale has always stuck with me and I try to feed the good wolf every day. . . When I look at you, I see the bad wolf."

I frowned. "W-what?"

"You're the bad wolf," he spoke, adverting his eyes from mine. "You make me greedy, you make me jealous, you make me angry, you make me regret things. . ." I swallowed the lump in my throat, just as a tear rolled down my cheek. "You bring out the worst in me and I can't feed you."

My chest tightened. "That's how you look at this?" When he nodded, I took a shaky breath and opened the door. "Then, I guess you really shouldn't forgive me." As I stumbled out into the hallway, I unfortunately bumped into Ethen who instantly grabbed my shoulders in comfort when he noticed the tears streaming down my cheeks. With a groan, I shrugged his hands off and moved around him, muttering, "Not now."

I strolled throughout the cabin, ignoring those around me, until I stepped outside. Several pairs of eyes shifted my direction and together, Kolton and Pete approached me. Both of them were sweating, appearing eager, yet tired.

Kolton smirked. "Someone had their heart broken."

"Shut up," I hissed, quickly wiping at my cheeks. "How is everyone doing?"

"They're okay," Pete answered, calmly. "We're struggling with food, but we'll survive." I nodded once, skimming the forest where my pack lingered. "What will our next move be, Luna? We're all waiting for an order."

I looked at him. "It won't be long now."

* * *

She glared back at me with her narrowed eyes, a display of light colors. Her brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in natural waves, slightly tousled. She was petite, her figure occupying a black shirt and black pants with a silver belt. Tilting her head to one side, she stiffened, blinking for the first time. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I reached towards the mirror, trembling. This girl was me, but she wasn't copying my movements - as my hand moved, she remained still.

When I touched the surface of the mirror, it rippled, almost as if it was water. A frown came across her face - my face - and I tapped at the surface in awe, creating more ripples. It was strange, but fascinating; a reflective liquid holding the appearance of a mirror in a golden frame. The ripples shimmered against the dangling light above my head and when I dragged a finger down the surface, blurring the reflection of my stomach for a moment, a smile crept onto my face. The mirror, or liquid, was cold, much thicker than water. I looked into my reflected eyes, stunned to see her - me - crying. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her bottom lip quivered, uncontrollably.

When I opened my mouth to speak, she opened her mouth and released an ear-piercing scream. The bland walls of the cramped room rattled while the floor beneath me shook, treacherously. With a wince, I slapped my hands over my ears, her scream ringing. I stumbled backwards, away from the mirror, and spun in a circle, searching for an exit. But, there wasn't a door; there wasn't even a window, only the mirror and flickering light. As my reflection disappeared completely, the entire mirror rippled, before the liquid started pooling out onto the floor from the frame.

"What. . . the. . . hell. . ."

As the pool of metallic liquid stretched, I lunged towards the farthest corner of the room, panting. Almost as if it was capable of sensing me, it changed direction and headed straight towards me. Screaming, I pounded my fists against the wall, hoping for a door to miraculously appear or my pathetic hands to create an escape hole in the wall. The liquid slithered around my legs, locking them together, and traveled up my body at a fast pace. When it reached my chest, I released a desperate cry for help, shivering from the coldness. I watched in fear as the glistening liquid swirled around my arms, covering every centimeter of skin.

"No! No! No!"

I had predicted what happened next - the liquid tightened and I crumbled to the floor on my side, still cocooned. Slowly, I was dragged back towards the golden frame, screaming. The dangling light above shattered, splinters of glass slicing at my face. I squeezed my eyes shut on instinct and when I reopened them, the room was pitch black. With a final scream, I was forcefully dragged into the frame where I was completely engulfed.

My eyes were squeezed shut in fear and for a long moment, I remained with them closed until I gathered the courage to open them. I was still enclosed by darkness; I reached down and patted my body, my fingers connected with a soft, silky fabric - a dress. I wiggled my toes, realizing that I was wearing a pair of leather sandals of some sort. Gulping loudly, I shoved my arms out into the darkness around me, hitting wood.

"W-what?"

All four directions, my arms smacked against wood, only a few inches from my body. The air was warm and sticky, definitely harder to breathe. Shouting, I slammed my fists against the top, not caring about splinters. The suddenness of dirt seeping into a crack, landing on my shoulder, startled me. It was that moment that I pieced the situation together - from the arch of the roof to the infested dirt. My eyes were burning at this point and frantically, I fought against the roof. When more dirt trickled into the coffin, I slipped my fingers into the crack, keeping it open.

Using my shoulder, I thrusted against the top one last time, widening the crack. As dirt rapidly poured into the coffin, I squeezed myself out and into the soil. Holding my breath once again, I began clawing upwards, fighting against the heavy dirt. I unbelievably wriggled through the ground, six feet of dirt to be exact, until my fingers connected with grass. Relief washed over me and I jerked my head above the ground, huffing and puffing. Blinking dirt off my eyelashes, I glanced around, instantly noticing that I was in a dark cemetery, one containing creepy headstones and fog.

I squirmed the rest of my body out of the ground and staggered to my feet. Cold air bit at my skin and I whipped around, victoriously.

"Thea!"

Gasping, my eyes snapped open and overwhelmed with fear, I thrashed my arms to protect myself. This pathetic defense resulted in me tumbling off the bed where I had crashed. Smacking the hardwood floor, I moaned and blinked heavily, squinting through the dimly-lit room to piece together my surroundings. Ethen was hovering above me, concern sketched onto his face. Placing a hand on my forehead, I slowly sat forward and climbed to my feet, plopping down at the end of the bed with a sigh.

"You were having a nightmare," he stated, almost whispering. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay," I told him, straightforwardly. "Just - I don't want to talk about it." Hesitantly, he took a seat next to me on the bed, managing to keep his distance. "Did anything happen while I was asleep?"

"No," he answered, watching me. "Temp is still tied to his chair, your pack is still outside, nobody knows you killed - "

"Lets not talk about that."

"Thea, it's not something we can ignore," he responded, gently. "That mark will continue to affect you and it'll cause problems until we fix it."

"It's not the mark," I argued, releasing a groan. "It's me! Everything I've done has nothing to do with the damn mark! I don't need fixed! Can you just forget about it?!" I shoved my hands into my hair and leaped to my feet where I immediately began pacing. "I hate this! I hate all of this!"

"It's going to be okay," he assured, quietly. Next thing I knew, several howls and shouts were ringing through the air. The worst thought appeared in my head - Amanda. I looked at Ethen with wide eyes, suddenly aware that I wasn't ready for the war. I wasn't ready to fight. I hadn't fixed things with Temp yet. I wasn't ready to accept the possibility that I could lose someone I cared about. Calm, Ethen rose to his feet, raising a hand. "No, it's fine. Our guest has arrived."

"Guest?" I repeated, stunned. "Who?"

He forced a grin and beckoned for me to follow. I trailed after him out of the room, passing Brody who was holding hands with Cole in the hallway. When we stepped into the living room, an unfamiliar man was surrounded by Ethen's brothers and Drew. The man nodded once to something Caine had said, before his eyes flickered to me as I entered the room.

His skin was perfect, a golden, sun-kissed tone with a beautiful radiance, sharpening the angles and curves of his body. His facial features were sharp - chiseled cheekbones, pointed nose, and harsh jawline. He peered at me with his captivating eyes, a hazel color with specks of gold, his eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. His black hair, darker than night, reached the nape of his neck, tousled. Thick, powerful muscle poured into his black shirt, black pants, and even black boots, clinging to his large physique. He stood gracefully, his feet separated a decent distance apart and his hands clasped together below his abdomen, innocuous. Appearing no older than twenty-five, he was intense and intimidating.

His voice was soothing and entrancing, almost like a beautiful melody, as he spoke, "Hello, Thea."

The mark on my wrist tingled and I froze.

He was a Torment inhabiting a human body.