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She is not a mate, She is a witch.

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[SHADE SHADOWS]

Barnabas is right.

The sun refuses to shine by the morrow, and the world is dark. And it stays for three days. At least, I think it has been three days. I can not tell. The hours seem endless.

Perhaps I could count how many times Madam has awoken us but she has not been to our chambers. The last time I saw her, she had called AMA's true name. Now, guards bang at our doors when it is time to wake. If I am to count to that then it is four.

Four days have passed. It feels like a fever.

I pump on mindlessly.

My thoughts are filled with pages and lonely words.  I have not opened Xirrians journal since. It is far too emotional that reading those pages has wedged me into such despair that I can not bring myself to read another page.

But even though I do not dare to read, his words have haunted me, night and day. I can not get it out of my head.

Perhaps it's because there is nothing I can do to distract myself.

I've been lonelier than usual the past few days. The master has not come by and as usual, no other master has ventured into the Library.  A fact I should be overjoyed by according to Baranabas.

And so, as much as I try to talk to Diane to fill the absence, I can not help but return to thoughts of the journal while I work.

Even when I busy myself with sketches of the Maze, which I have completed, the endless patterns of the edges remind me how pointless Xirrian described life.

How endless it is to breathe, and breathe and breathe.

For no reason but to breathe.

I pause and my hands tightens around the pump. I stare down at the lever gripped in my fists, and my eyes blur. I try to hold it in.

One of the slaves says something but I do not hear, even though my hands continue to pump, as if from memory.

My thoughts are gone.

Xirrian did not have anyone. His childhood reminds me a lot of the Master. He spoke of his exclusion from the other pups. He spoke of how the shadows were his only friends, but even they in the beginning were unkind. They sought to scare him and Whisper dark things in his ears.

That was before he learned to control them. For some shadows are more malicious than others.

With shadows from endless as friends and a court that did nothing but fear him, he could only hope for one thing. One thing that was supposed to be designed to stay beside him, and love him unconditionally, and eventhat was delayed.

My thoughts drift to the master.

He did not respond about his mate. The abruptness by which he left tells me he did not wish to. And the fact that he has not returned in four days.

Perhaps I am overthinking.

He can not keep spending hours aimlessly in my company. He has work, and now that it has been a continuous streak of Dark days, then the Night Wolf is unhappy and The master may be attending to his needs.

He may be staying away simply because of this reason, it is the logical answer, and yet, a part of me wonders if it is because of the question I asked him.

My gaze shifts to the guards post.

A single lantern flickers illuminating the armor of the guard, and my eyes trail to his face. No one familiar is on it, like Madam Catherine, Liston has also been absent.

The last time I saw the guard was by the crimson doors of the library.

I suppose I am relieved or at most curious but my thoughts quickly shift from this, and my eyes glaze over, stopping as the water flows over a bucket and another is placed.

I move as if from memory, and pump again. My head is not in the company of the slaves around me.

I barely hear the girls talk though I am aware someone speaks to me, once or twice but I do not recall if it was an insult, a taunt, or mere words.

I nod mindlessly along, for I think of things far deeper.

My gaze trails to the western wing. Where they say the Night Wolf lives, locked in between walls. If the master is this lonely just being associated with him, then he is far- far more.

Perhaps just as Xirrian.

This thought sparks something I have never felt for the Night Wolf. Sadness and Pity.

And it is so deep I think— I think I feel pain on his behalf.

Xirrian has spoken the same words in a thousand different ways and still, the essence does not change, in hopes that someone, anyone will listen.

But they do not.

He remains a lonely heart for ten more years trapped in a world where hearts have perfect pairs.

The dark days were signs of Criston the Cruels loneliness. My gaze returns to the Wing—perhaps these are his, and as before...

No one is listening.

A hand touches my arm and I am rattled at the action, my gaze meeting that of Vale.

She pulls away and stares at me momentarily, and I, at her as if she is a ghost, for I am still lost in my mind and it takes a moment for the mist in my eyes to clear, and realize that she is very close.

My eyebrows draw together and I quickly look around panicked that someone could see then when I realize we are alone I am unsure where everyone has gone and how we suddenly remain only the two of us.

"It is a dark Day, Shade," Vale states as my eyes snap back to her, her voice is quiet when she adds, "They won't see us."

I take a moment to get my head straight.

Yes, it seems I pumped all the buckets and the slaves have gone.  I nod, getting myself together, before pushing her bucket beneath the pump.

Vale sighs folding her arms, "You still won't speak?"

I glance up at her as I pull the lever, "I am speaking, It is you that is angry," I counter.

She pauses at this and looks away, pursing her lips before looking back at me, her tone defeated.

"I was," she hummed, "B-But I don't wish to be angry anymore."

I pull the lever down and glance at her, unimpressed "Really?"

She nods softly.

"I miss you, Shade." she confesses, "and I can not be mad forever," she adds quietly.

I watch her and her lips tug upward.

There she is. My sister.

My eyes warm and I smile, "I missed you too, Vale."

She rubs her arms but a smile only grows, "Good, and I love you. You are stubborn, a big old stubborn mule, but I love you," she adds.

I throw her a smile, "I know." I joke.

She nods at this with a grin edged into her face and I glance back down at what I am doing. I think about telling her about Madam Catherine, and how she somehow knows AMA—

"So will you tell me?"

My eyebrows arch at the statement but keep my eyes focused on my task, responding absent-mindedly, "Tell you what? That you've grown skinnier these past few days. Are you not eating?" I huff, "Is the meal light?" I grin humorously

She chuckles at this, "Ob, It is fit for a king." she smiles, leaning against the pump, "Luciferous saves only the thinnest soups for me because he knows that I have a figure to keep, Bless his heart," she adds, her hand 0ver her chest.

"Ah," I grin, "Yes, He is very thoughtful."

We chuckle at this and Vale folds her arms. As the moment subsides I feel her gaze watching me. And suddenly the night is calmer.

"I meant the sadness."

"Huh?" I hum, finally, done and replacing her bucket with mine.

I circle back around the pump.

"The one in your eyes, Shade," she adds.

I phase at this, my gaze shifting to hers in confusion for a moment. Then I realize she has noticed.

There is one person who watches me. Who takes time to notice how I am and what I feel.

And it is Vale. She sees when I am sad, or unhappy. And she has noticed that I have been lost these few days

"Oh Vale it is nothing-" I try to assure her.

"Yet it has been constant since the Dark days began," She adds.

"It is not-"

"I understand Shade," she cuts, taking a step forward.

I notice her eyes are filled with worry paired with another emotion.

"This place, it can drain you. It just.." she trails off, motioning to the space around us.

Her tone is quiet, "It eats at you. It is a constant reminder that death is always knocking at a slave's door..." she heaves.

My throat remains constricted and dry.

She bites her bottom lip, "We will go."

I am confused.

She moves closer, her gaze darting to the guard momentarily, "Even if it is by the maze. I do not care anymore. I won't see us slowly die here."

My heart beats faster, "You are on board?" I ask, unsure of my ears, "Fully? You do not even mind the forest?"

"Yes. I want you to live Shade," she pauses, "and if it is only hope that keeps you alive in this place, then I will help you keep it alight."

I stare at her for a moment, and my heart is flooded with warmth and the lonely feeling inside me dissipates.

She looks around again before pushing her bucket over and it spills. She pretends to be distressed as the guard shoots her a look.

"Ugh! Move, time is wasting!" she yells, moving toward me.

I move out of her way and she fixes the pump moving my bucket and placing hers with mine.

The guard's eyebrows arch, but he looks away as she begins to pump once more.

Vale is clever.

She needs time to speak to me and if the guard is to remain unsuspecting, then it is I that must remain waiting as is done every day.

She glances at the guard, before looking at me as I move closer.

"You said you had a map," she whispers, her gaze shifting to the guard constantly.

I nod discretely, also keeping vigilance.

"Yes. It is very detailed. It will get us to the nearest harbor after Yulis."

She nods again, pumping slowly, "So we have the map, but the maze— " her gaze shifts to the high tower window, "I guess it is safe to say that venture was unsuccessful," she sighs.

"Not entirely," I reply, "There is a better view from the library window, but the maze is vast. The farthest parts I can not see. I fear we need to traverse it ourselves."

Her gaze flashes to me and freezes.

I fear I have lost her but she eventually nods. Her eyes shift slightly but I know she is trying to be brave. She swallows her voice tight, "We will need thread."

My eyebrows arch at this, "Thread?"

"Red thread," she adds.

I look at her as if she has gone mad.

She rolls her eyes, "Do not tell me you forget-"

I remain confused.

"AMA's stories?" she prods.

I pause for a moment and then it hits me. There is one story AMA read for us. One about a maze and how it was traversed with the help of red thread.

My eyes haze in realization and she catches this, gaze flashing to the guard momentarily.

"I think that red yarn is thicker," She adds, "We have been tasked by the tailors to stitch parts of the guard's uniforms. There is a lot of red yarn. I think I can swipe a few balls," she states, "Whilst it can not guide us to the end, it will help keep us on the right path."

I nod at this. "That is good."

She agrees, but pauses, " Still, what can thread do against monsters made of shadow," she adds quietly.

I am silent at her comment. Even I haven't thought of a way to get passed the shadow.

"And the Night Wolf," She pumps, with a sigh.

But I have a solution to this.

I reveal that it storms when the Night Wolf shifts. That is the information I managed to get from the Master.

She pauses at this, her bucket overflowing, and nods, glancing at the guard, "That is— good information." She compliments, "At least something has become out of your unconventional friendship with a master."

Her words are warnings I know.

I nod along, "He is different. I am sure he does not wish to hurt me."

"And you know that, how?" she asks.

"I just know," I counter.

She looks at me unconvinced and I sigh, "Just because I do not wolf, does not mean I do not have good intuition. I know that he is good," I stress.

She does not argue, and continues to pump, "Fine, just remember your words. We can only trust each other." she states.

Trust.

That word again.

I pull my thoughts from this, there was more to say,  "Even though we have figured out the Night Wolf shifts when It storms, we can never be too sure. If we are to escape Vale, we can not leave anything to chance if we can avoid it. In case he shifts regardless, we must find a way to hide."

She agrees. "That will be our task then. To find something that can protect us from the night wolf" she blinks for a moment, "How are we to hide from the Night wolf? He is only second to a god." she scoffs.

I can not refute her reasoning. I too do not know.

"We will find a way. We are smart women," I assure her.

Her gaze flashes to me, and smiles. "We are."

Before she can say anything more the clank of metals causes both of us to stir and freeze as the guard marches over.

His cold gaze slides in between the both of us.

"Enough of your mindless chatter. You are slaves. Work begins at dawn whether the sun rises or not," he growls.

I nod quickly and Vale lowers her head, grabbing the bucket. She gives me one more discreet nod as she heads to the bathhouse.

The guard stays as I pump, his gaze narrows on me. My heart beats lightly, and as soon as I am done, I make sure to leave.

Quickly.

------------------------  ---------------- --------------------

The library is quiet. It always is. But it is worse on Dark Days. Much worse, for on days such as these even Diane delays to come.

But today feels different. It is only when it begins to rain that I realize why.

I stand right before the large velvet chair that sits in the middle up near the bookshelf, opposite the entrance.

This is where I saw him. The Night Wolf.

Those eyes.

Goosebumps form against my skin.

I did not imagine them. Not at all. I rub up my arm and my gaze reaches the one window high above.

A dozen windows. Barnabas says there are more than a dozen windows.

My eyes drop back to the chair. I have been so afraid of this chair I do my utmost best to avoid it. But now I reach out and my fingers graze the velvet armrest of the chair and as if in response, lightning suddenly flashes across the sky.

I retract quickly, my heart pounding.

I hear thunder rumble in the distance, and the rain continues to fall.

I frown at this, a hand over my heart to bid my heart stop racing. The lightning is not a sign. It just means that the Night Wolf has shif—

I rid my head of these thoughts and pull out Xirrians journal from my folds. I look down at the black cover and then back into the dark library.

The book swings at my side.

There is much to do.

------------------------------------

I work quietly as it rains and thunders. The oil lamps flicker lightly and the sound of rain despite what it signifies is rather soothing.

I have no knowledge of how much time passes by when I'm alone in my thoughts and the sun can not even set.

Diane is not here, I think if the storm persists, she will stay in the woods today.

And the master? It had been four days.

Perhaps he was busy. There is the problem of Adzar. The Night Wolf is the forest. Perhaps he has matters to attend to.

I sigh and spend more hours cleaning until I feel if I am to transport one more load I will lose my mind.

I tell myself I need a break.

But in truth, deep down I know what I want. I am drawn like a magnet to the spot where I hid the book, taking it out between spaces.

I glance around as if someone is there even though I know that I am alone and study the edges for a hesitant moment. I have avoided reading it for three days, but I can not deny I want to read more of Xirrians story.

It calls to me and tells me that its words are mine. That they belong to me.

I sit beneath the light of an oil lamp, my knees pulled up my chest, and I open the journal with shaky hands.

I hold my breath for a moment. I do not know why I am keen on ruining myself.

I know these words will destroy what's left of me and haunt me, and yet I have never been more entranced.

My fingers are almost shaky when I flip through the pages.

And in a blink of an eye, the world fades behind me. Time ceases to exist as I immerse myself in his words.

Same longing. Repeated in each turn of summer, each fall of the leaves, even when winter kisses the ground, over and over he speaks as if a shadow in his own life.

My lips tremble as I read on. Page after page. My gaze shifts upward as I check the date.

15 years.

15 years of longing.

I hug my knees, and rest my chin on them as I read. Sometimes I think I am hiding from his words when my hand blocks the pages just to give myself a moment.

The rain is like soft music and I am far too soon consumed.

I have forgotten entirely. I do not exist. Shade Shadows does not exist. Xirrian Adonis Prime is alive, and he shows me his heart.

It is decaying after years of being utterly useless.

Xirrian speaks of moments when he experiences what he describes as waking dreams. He says sometimes he sees her, his mate, like a haunting shadow, here and there. Around every corner. Behind trees, behind stone hallways, and even beside him when his eyes are closed.

He says he knows her scent. He says it is sweet, the sweetest thing he has ever sensed.

He says he sees Glimpses of her orange hair. That is wild like fire. He does not know how he knows this when he awakes, but does.

He swears her hair is red, and her eyes are green. He swears that her wolf's coat is grey. All this he sees in his dreams. But when he awakens he can not remember her face, he can not remember her scent only that it is sweet.

And it drives him to madness.

My fingers shake slightly when I flip the page.

Blotches and blotches of paragraphs. More ripped pages. Sometimes he writes her eyes are blue and then he retracts and says they are brown like the earth.

He says he is losing his mind with these visions that play with him. He is convinced that they are valuable, that hidden within these flashes, Selene has shown him some semblance of grace.

That it is a game she plays. And even if it haunts him, it is all he has and he can not afford to let it go.

I am not too sure.

I feel that he is on the verge of insanity and that he has conjured these visions to ease his mind. There are too differences.

But if he is right, then Selene is cruel and unkind.

A few pages more and his words no longer make much sense. He is insatiable. He now prefers to sleep more than he wakes. And the dark days drawl with him as he tussles between reality.

He says the endless calls to him. I do not understand this phrase. Sometimes he speaks of that wretched place as if it lives and breathes.

He is losing his mind and it does not help at all when the other Arcs come around him with their mates by their sides.

He speaks of a time when he stands in the FireWolfs Court. A Celebration within its walls of the mating of the Arc.

He says he can hear happiness. At times he thinks he can feel it as it brushes against him. Only brushes for it does not truly want him. And he watches it all in a haze. He says he feels hollow and betrayed. He says he leaves and tells himself he only needs air, but as he reaches the high balcony built by a cliff that runs above a deep ravine he realizes he craves escape.

He says he wishes to fall. And he closes his eyes and I hold a breath as if I am unaware that he writes again and therefore he lives.

My heart thumps harshly within me and then he says—

He sees her.

I am frozen.

Her? His mate? I am confused but somehow hopeful.

He does not say immediately.

He describes the girl seated at the edge of the balcony, feet dangly by the outside as peculiar.

That he had never sensed a being quite like her.

I am curious.

He says in her hands is a peculiar flower, that is dry and withered, and she stares at it and twirls it slowly in her hand.

He says he thinks she is peculiar because she does not run from him as most do. If anything, she asks him why he doesn't run from her.

When he remains silent, she turns to him. There are tears in her eyes and then, he realizes the look in her eyes.

He did not think it possible but the loneliness in her eyes mirrors his.

He describes it as uncanny.

*********

"The girl is peculiar. I have never seen a being like her. She is different, but I do not understand why.

And then she looks me in the eyes and says words I never forget. Will you end me? She asks. It is not like someone who begs for a quick death at my hands, she pleads as if death is her only friend.

She notices that I am confused and then she laughs, freely her gaze stretches into the air, her feet kicking, "l was sent to find my Alpha, but he sends me away and takes another. For I am a witch, and therefore I only bewitch him. I am destined to steal his life,"

She looks at me, and I know what she is. I have heard of her. And her curse is far worse than mine.

She hands me the flower. I move to take it because despite what she is, her loneliness is familiar. As she lets go, the dead flower in my hands blooms again—

*********

It feels like my heart stops at these words. Her words are familiar.

Go find your Alpha. The voice whispers to me again.

I look around, a low panic, but I am all alone. I am finding it hard to breathe, and I glance down at the words again.

The flower blooms. Her power is mine.

I can not breathe even as I scramble to read on.

********

"And I freeze for I have never felt something quite like it. Before I can say a thing, her fingers rest on my hands. It is a contact I haven't had in years.

"My curse has no relief," She tells me. She is calm and yet I know the words cut her deep, "but yours will, for if but a moment." She speaks. "You will find her in the market."

With that, she lets go and as if there are no more words between us, she looks back into the night and remains silent, watching quietly as if a Night Wolf is not beside her.

I do something I regret to quickly.

I leave. I take only a few steps, and my heart tells me that I must say a word, but when I turn back—There is no girl seated on the balcony.

All that is left is the wind.

I know then, I have seen the death of A Mage Wolf.

Despite everything I know of her, my heart is distraught."

****

I close the book and my gaze drowns in the darkness.
A mage wolf. I open my hands and they shake.

Is that what I am?

•|•|•

It will make sense... Eventually.

•|•|•