Two days later, I was situated in the passenger seat of Temp's truck, fidgeting with the radio. After persuading Marcus into staying behind, Temp packed up a couple of things and climbed into his rusty, black truck, not even having to force me into hopping inside. We were speeding down the highway with the windows rolled down - the engine was sputtering and every once in awhile, it roared from Temp turning sharply around a corner. He had cleaned up nicely with his hair combed back and his clothes, a loose t-shirt and dark jeans, ironed. Dark circles still rested underneath his eyes and his posture was off, but I knew after a few days, he was going to return entirely to himself. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at the mark on my wrist, the black 'x' that forever haunted me. I started tracing the mark, gently. Humming to the tune playing from the radio, he looked over, noticing. "You're still tracing the mark?"

"Yeah, it's hard not to," I told him, shrugging. "It's weird - I used to be ashamed of it, afraid of what people would think. Either, some poor girl they pitied or someone they feared because I was categorized as untrustworthy and dangerous." He pinched his lips together, his eyes continuously shifting from the road to me. "But, right now, I'm kind of thankful for the mark. It's here forever; it's permanent, unlike everything else." Shakily, I inhaled loudly, tapping the mark with my index finger. "Everyone looks at it as this awful thing, but really, it's just a reminder that I survived something terrible. That I walked through Hell and I may have gotten burned, but I'm here." Judging by the expression on his face, he was debating in his head on what to say. "I'm still here."

He cleared his throat. "I never asked what it was like."

"Well, you're capable of reading minds, right?" I started, raising an eyebrow. "Imagine having that happen to you, then, every day and night, tormented by nightmares and illusions, containing your worst fears." Shaking my head, I added, "I felt utterly weak because the creature knew everything about me a-and it was scary."

"You know, Torments are notorious for killing their victims in their sleep," he said, glancing over at me. "I mean, if you didn't commit suicide, once they got bored, that was it."

"I know," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "If you're trying to ask me why I wasn't killed, I don't know, Temp."

"I'm just curious," he drawled, before licking his lips. "So, has your family contacted you at all?"

"No," I answered, quietly. "I mean, my family and I - we love each other, but once I got involved with the werewolves, they weren't very supportive." I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the mark on my wrist once again. "Honestly, I bet they've heard about the trouble I'm in, probably saw me on the news. Maybe they're thinking I deserve this and it'd be better if they stayed out of it."

"Uh, did they know about the Torment?"

"Sort of," I mumbled, grinning. "My parents thought I had insomnia and concerned, they got me some medication." I looked ahead at the empty road, flashing back to the memories. "But, what they didn't realize was that I didn't want to sleep - that's when it was the worst. I constantly flushed the pills down the toilet and one night, my mom caught me. She was so angry. The next day, they were threatening to send me away." I looked over at Temp, surprised he was actually listening, appearing interested. "I bet they were relieved when I moved out the next year."

He hesitated. "I was in the military." Already knowing this, I nodded my head and he continued, slowly. "I was barely twenty-two and they sent me out onto the field. I, uh, witnessed the majority of my team die and there wasn't anything that I could do about it." A moment of silence passed between us as he struggled with the correct words. "When I came back, I had PTSD and I was given medication, but I didn't take it. . . It was to basically numb me, make everything feel okay around me, but it wasn't. Nothing was." He shook his head, inhaling loudly. "My team was killed, my dad had recently left my mom, and my sister was an alcoholic."

I bit my bottom lip. "I-I didn't know that."

"Yeah, it's not easy to talk about," he told me, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Just wanted you to know that we all have a past."

"Has your family tried contacting you?"

"Are you shitting me?" he laughed, his shoulders shaking. "My family hates me."

Unsure, I blurted, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he responded, instantly. "It's just three more people I have to worry less about when the world turns to shit."

I frowned. "When the world turns to shit?"

His eyebrows shot up. "How do you think this is going to end, Blue?" I gulped loudly, suddenly spooked by the question. "There is a war happening between werewolves and humans, one that hasn't fully exploded yet. This is just the beginning." Releasing an unenthusiastic laugh, he continued, "I guarantee werewolves are joining together and planning an attack - if not, the government is. It's going to blow up in our faces and we get the honor of being right in the middle of it." He gave me a look, receiving a scowl in response. "We're wanted by the government; we pretty much have a death sentence on our shoulders. Amanda isn't going to stop."

"So, you think the world is going to end up being a bloody, disastrous mess?"

"It isn't going to be rainbows and sunshine," he said, rolling his eyes. "Not only are we going to have a fight against the government when they find us, but these damn werewolves. We're hunting down one of the oldest around for fuck sake."

I tilted my head. "Wow, we really don't have a side."

He grinned at me. "Hey, that's true."

"Temp, we just kinda had a conversation," I pointed out, surprised. "One that didn't involve any bickering and shouting."

"We must be falling sick."

I laughed. "So, where are we going?"

"Well, the last time you saw the monster was at Greenwood Forest," he started, turning sharply around a corner. The tires squealed and I grabbed onto the door handle, nervously. "And, he disappeared with that Alpha, right?" I nodded, glancing out the window, thoughtfully. "I imagine his pack is worried and pissed, so you know what we're going to do?"

I huffed. "I'm afraid to ask."

"We're going to team up with them."

I whipped my head around, shocked. "You, the guy who loathes all werewolves, wants to team up with a pack?"

"Come on, think about it," he said, waving one of his hands around. "We're searching for this monster and they're searching for their Alpha, both whom are possibly together. Not only that, but they have insight on other werewolves."

"Why would we want insight on other werewolves?" I asked, confused.

"Uh, to find his brothers," he answered, quietly. "His brothers are just as dangerous as him."

"No, that's not happening!" I blurted, shaking my head. "They haven't done anything, okay? They haven't proved - "

"Oh, come on! Stop pretending!" he interrupted, his voice raising. "They're just as terrible, maybe worse." He looked at me, awaiting a reaction, but he didn't get one. "And maybe they know exactly where our monster, Ethen, is, huh?"

"First off, I agree his brothers are dangerous, which is exactly why we shouldn't risk getting near them," I told him, raising a finger. "Secondly, they aren't going to give up their brother's location. And, thirdly, you're coming up with ideas that are just going to get us killed."

"We're already dead, Blue," he said, frowning. "If the werewolves don't kill us, the government will."

"Well, I like to have hope."

He rolled his eyes. "Look, we need this pack on our side. With their devotion to find their Alpha, they'll help us find the Volkov brothers to get their leader back."

With a serious expression, I told him, "We aren't getting involved with Ethen's brothers, Temp."

"What if he's with them? Has that ever crossed your mind?" he questioned, speeding. "If we're going to be partners, you need to trust me." I stared at him for a minute, realizing the situation that I was in. The guy, the one who was a complete jerk to me at the facility, was driving us to Greenwood Forest to hunt down the werewolf that I had let escape. I was working with the guy who I constantly butted heads with, complained about, and even threatened to kill several times. It was strange how things were capable of changing so fast. "His brothers aren't our top priority - Ethen is, so I'll try to stay clear of them, but Blue, they're our biggest lead."

"They'll kill us," I said, seriously. "If they find out our intentions, they will kill us. I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to die."

"I won't let you die," he responded, looking over at me. "I promise." I bit my bottom lip, feeling his eyes on me. "There's a possibility he's with his brothers - where else would he be? Come on, we need to kill Ethen."

I took a deep breath. "And, how do you think you're going to accomplish that, huh?"

"I have this theory," he started, slightly pressing on the brakes. "I overheard some scientists talking in the laboratory and they labeled his healing as Rapid Cellular Regeneration. All werewolves have it, except the Volkov brothers have it better, meaning it's faster. Well, obviously, that was a problem since his execution had to happen at some point, right? How were they going to kill him?" I pinched my lips together, patiently. "So, that got me thinking - the brain sends signals. It's the main control center and last time I checked, it sort of alerts your body when you're hurt and pretty fast too. . . With Ethen, his brain alerts that he's been cut and instantly, his body heals. What if the brain can't alert the body? What if it can't send signals?"

I nodded. "Then, the healing won't kick in."

"Correct," he said, smirking. "If we shoot him in the back of the head, right in the soft spot, that's it. The brain can't send signals; it can't do shit. I believe that as long as the bullet remains in his brain, he'll stay dead."

"Yeah, but Ethen is capable of stopping bullets in mid-air," I reminded him, shaking my head. "It'll be hard for you to shoot him."

"You're right," he responded, calmly. "That's why you're going to do it." I froze, looking at him in disbelief. The entire time, I was convinced that I was able to watch Ethen die, despite knowing that it was oddly going to hurt me. Each second that passed, I was contemplating backing out; even though he left me like an asshole, a part of me didn't want him to get hurt. He was a monster, but I didn't want him gone. Temp looked over at me, worried about my shocked silence. "What? You can get close enough, Blue. He clearly has a thing for you."

"Clearly n-not," I argued, stuttering. "He left me, remember?"

"Yeah, and he's officially labeled as a 'jerk'," he said, sarcastically. Rolling his eyes, he continued speaking, "How about we don't worry about that right now, huh? First, we just need to focus on getting this pack on our side, then find that son of a bitch."

I exhaled loudly. "Fine, but don't you think the pack will find it a little odd that humans are reaching out to them? What if they know we worked for the government?"

"Doubt it," he said, shaking his head. "Stop worrying so much."

"So many things could go wrong, Temp!"

"Just trust me," he responded, glancing over at me. "I know what I'm doing." Then, he lifted his hand, pressing his fingers against his skull. I gulped loudly and he winced, his eyebrows knitting together. "And, control your damn thoughts - they're giving me a headache."

I slouched farther down in the passenger seat. "Whoops."

He glared at me. "Don't make me regret agreeing to help you." I folded my arms across my chest and peered out the window, calmed by the blur of passing trees and vacant buildings. Temp's words started overwhelming me; was I going to be able to kill Ethen? Or, even participate in his death? I was beginning to have second thoughts and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. "When we get to Greenwood Forest, let me do the talking - I don't want you saying anything stupid."

I frowned. "Like what?"

"I don't know," he retorted, shaking his head. "But, one slip and we're dead." Not in the mood to argue, I simply nodded. Other than the radio playing quietly, silence filled the car for a few minutes. "We're in this mess because of you."

"Thanks for reminding me," I commented, dryly. "Look, I know I made a mistake - we've already discussed this, okay? Just let me fix it."

"Actually, I'm kind of grateful you screwed up," he responded, not looking at me. "I loved my job, believe me. Some of the people were difficult to work with. . ." He gestured my direction and I rolled my eyes, holding back a cocky smirk. "But, I'll admit, I hated Amanda. She was such a bitch and whined over everything." I burst into laughter and he joined me, suddenly turning down a gravel road filled with numerous potholes. "What I'm trying to say is, is I loved my assignments and my role, but I hated who ordered me around and I'm happy to be free of her. I mean, I had my team, which unfortunately, consisted of you." I gave him a look and he smirked, the truck bouncing up and down from the horrible road. "And, when you screwed up, it screwed everything up - not only did I run because of the punishment I was going to face, but the bad outweighed the good at that point."

"So, you're happy to be free of Amanda?"

"And, the stress that came with everything, but in the end, my life is ruined - I'm going to get nowhere now," he added, exhaling loudly. "I mean, here we are, hunting down a werewolf who can kill us with the flick of his fingers."

"You think he can do that?"

He shook his head. "Lets pray to God that he can't." I smiled, just as he pulled over to the side of the gravel road, right next to a familiar forest. Chills traveled down my spine and he looked over, pulling his keys out of the ignition. "We're here."