Nicole's POV

--

It's been a year. I've lost hope that Dallas will ever find me. It hurts. It hurts badly to not be able to see his smile. To not be able to see his beautiful eyes. To not be able to smell his minty scent. To not be able to kiss him. It hurts. I miss his kindness.

Where I am, no one is nice. Everyone my father has watch me is cruel.

I'm hoping that isn't true with the whole pack. Surely someone somewhere is kind.

But I've lost that hope, too. So I barely talk anymore.

I disowned my father. I hate him. He's a bad man and he doesn't deserve a daughter. He keeps me from my Mate and every day, he tells me that it's for the best. I never believe him. Sometimes, I wonder if he's just jealous of what Dallas and I have. Had.

I've grown to be a droopy girl, sagging to look submissive to my Pack members. My father taught me how to communicate with everyone telepathically. Mind-Link, they call it. I know without a doubt that this is what Dallas told me about.

I've tried Mind-Linking him, but it's too far. The connection is blocked. At least, that's what my wolf says.

She's sick. Very sick.

She's the only person I have to talk to without worrying about being snapped at.

And then one day, everything changes.

My father walks into the little room I am forced to stay in. It's close walls have made me forget my fear of small spaces and claustrophobia. A grin is on his ugly face. Such a familiar grin. I realize it's the same grin I see when I look in the mirror and smile at myself.

"Had any visions, Nicole?" I shake my head. He asks me this every time. My wolf controls my visions. And she's sick. "Well. Good news. Dallas is coming!" He claps with mock enthusiasm and I don't smile back at him. This is probably just a stupid joke. "We are luring him here as we speak. As soon as he's close enough..." He grins, dragging his finger across his throat and making a cracking noise. My eyes widen. So this isn't a joke. I'm actually going to see Dallas. And then watch him get murdered.

"Do you have any idea what that will do to me?" I ask quietly.

"You won't feel the usual Mate Pain because you haven't Marked each other yet." I glare at him. "What? I'm saving you a lot of pain. When your mother died -"

"When you killed her." It's his tun to glare at me.

"When I killed her," he corrects," I felt the Mate Pain and I won't put you through that. Better to eliminate the mutt before anything can happen."

"I hate you."

"Not after he's gone, you won't." He grins while I stare at him menacingly. I want to claw his face. I want to shift. But he's drugged me so I can't. That makes me angry and Amanda even sicker than she already is.

--

And then it's time. After a year. It's time that I see him. My father paces in front of me. Something's wrong. Which is very good.

"I won't sit back and watch you kill him." I say. "I hope you know that." He nods.

"Exactly why you'll be chained to a chair. He'll see you and try to unchain you, especially if it's silver chains." My eyes widen.

"You would actually do that? To your own daughter? Are you kidding me?" As I speak, I feel hands grab my arms and legs, dragging me backwards to rest me in a cold, metal chair. The sharp cold bites my warm skin, but I know this is the easy part.

I don't even try.

This is hopeless. Dallas is going to die because of me. I don't even know if Damian's alive. I suddenly feel very selfish for not thinking about him.

The silver chains sting as soon as they touch my skin and I yelp, suddenly gaining the need to fight back. But it's no use. They chain my wrists to the chair with silver and then they do my ankles. I hiss, already feeling them creating blisters on my skin and rubbing my skin raw.

How did Dallas stand this? He said silver is nothing compared to Wolfsbane and I'm howling at it. How did he survive so much silver and pain? How did he do this? This is pure torture.

My father grins at me.

"You'll love me when I let you out."

I don't say anything, the words too foul even in my head.

"You're sick." I say after a moment and he just chuckles. I can see the worry in his eyes. He really wants to get rid of Dallas but something is wrong.

And then my father disappears. Leaving me sitting in the dark in a small room chained by silver chains to a freezing cold chair. The least they could do was make me comfortable. But no. Of course not. That would be convenient.

I sit here for what seems like hours. It feels like a whole year has gone by but I know I'm just exaggerating. And then I hear the sound of the door being cracked open.

And the smell. The amazing mint smell of him. He's here. After an entire year, he's finally here.

I have to warn him.

"No! Don't come! Turn back! It's a trap!" I screech, the metal chair screaming as I rock back and forth. The chains rattle and clink and I hear an intake of breath when he realizes what happened to me. He's so close. He's in the same room as me.

I keep my head down, not wanting to see him because if he's actually here, it means he's actually going to die. But I also know that even if I try, I can't see him. It's too dark.

The quiet sound of shoes tapping against concrete tell me that he's trying to get closer.

"No. No! Leave!" The steps come to a stop. "It's a trap! He's going to kill you!"

"Nicole." He breathes, and I feel pain flood me; not just from the chains. From him. The way he says my name makes me feel dizzy. It hurts even more, now that we're this close and still so far away.

My head involuntarily snaps up. I still can't see him, but I can tell where he is.

"It's a trap. You have to leave! He's going to kill you." He doesn't make a noise then. "Dallas, please." I beg him.

He doesn't speak for a long time. Neither do I.

I lower my head, resting my chin against my chest and leaning back against the cold chair to prevent the silver chains from digging into my wrists even more than they already have.

"Nic." He says suddenly. My head snaps up again, causing me to cry out when the fast motion makes the chains bite my wrists and ankles even further. And then I see his eyes; anxious, scarred, hurt eyes. We stare at one another's eyes for a moment, his seeming to glow.

And then I hear the scraping of the door closing behind him. He's being locked in.

"Dallas! Go! Right now!" I scream at him. Panic flares deep within me, fueled by my fear.

The lights flicker on. I whimper from the knowledge of what is planned.

And then I realize it's not my father controlling the lights. It's Damian. Never have I felt so happy.

He grins at me, his silver eyes kind and warming.

I look at Dallas, who stands a few feet in front of me. He hasn't stopped staring at me.

He looks different. He's taller. His hair is slightly longer. His face seems older.

But the same eyes. It's Dallas.

"Dallas." I breathe, my voice calm. He steps towards me. Then another. And another until he's almost running. He walks behind me to my hands, starting to unwrap the chains from around my wrists. I have no idea how he's handling the sting of the silver. He does my ankles next, his hands every once in awhile brushing against my skin sending a flurry of sparks flying through me.

The chains fall off me, making me sigh from relief and slump forward. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths in and out of my lungs. Pulling my wrists to me, I look at the scarred pink flesh, touching them and then wincing. It hurts.

The chair becomes intolerable and I stand, feeling wobbly from hours of sitting.

I almost fall forward, but Dallas's hand shoots out, gripping my shoulder and pulling me back to a straight position. He stands next to me, moving his arm around my waist and draping my arm over his shoulders to help support my weight.

"Let's get you out of here." He whispers into my ear and turns his head to look at Damian. Damian understands and opens the door for us. When we step out, I want to curl up in a ball.

In front of us is a battle. Wolves fight wolves. People fight people. Blood spills and stains the once-green grass. But I find myself unable to panic from the horrific sight.

Dallas's warm body presses against my side, making the ache in me dull.

Damian's eyes dart around, glancing for a way to escape the bloody ensemble before motioning at Dallas to follow. Dallas and I start walking slowly. My ankles are burning, feeling as if they are going to snap under my weight. I grunt from frustration at my inability to go fast. With a quick scoop, Dallas tucks one arm under my legs and one under my neck, lifting me.

My cheek presses against his chest and I feel myself being carried. Everything becomes a blur. What's going on?

The drug.

My father had drugged me to stop myself from shifting. Was there something else in it? Probably. Probably something to make me dizzy.

I lift my head to look up at Dallas, his teeth clenched and his eyes wild with panic. It was a good change.

It's hard to believe we're sixteen now.

And then I'm set down. I flop onto the comfortable thing underneath me. One of my eyes sharpen, able to finally see we're in Dallas's room. I'm on his bed. It smells like him.

I can't keep my eyes open. Everything's bright. A coldness wafts over me and I realize Dallas isn't next to me anymore. He stands at the door, talking to his father. He's almost as tall as his father. This surprises me.

Their voices are hushed.

I prop myself up on my elbows, feeling the need to hear what they're saying. But the pounding in my head and pulsing of my body does not help.

Damian's eyes lock on mine and he says something to Dallas who turns to look at me. His face is worried, tired, and some other emotion I can't identify. Damian retreats through the door and Dallas turns to me.

He looks at me cautiously, unsure of how to approach me as he stands there. His eyes look me over; whether checking signs for injury or to make himself realize that I'm actually here, I don't know.

We stare at each other for a while. I move to sit up, grunting with effort. Once I'm up, I see him still staring at me, hesitant. I grin at him. Someone has to do it. He grins back, his dimples deep at the bottom corners of his mouth.

I stand move my legs to the edge of the bed, determined. I can tell he's itching to help me, but he won't unless I ask.

And then I crumple, my knees weak. Before I can touch the ground, he lurches forward, grabbing me and hoisting me up. I lean against him, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Sorry." I say quietly. He nudges me softly and I look up at him, his eyes intense.

"Why are you apologizing?" He grins again. I can't help but smile back, his joviality infectious.

I shake my head, allowing myself to fully lean on him. I turn so I can wrap my arms around his waist in a hug. He rests his chin on my head, holding me tight to him.

"I missed you." Something vibrates from within his chest, causing a soft hum on my cheek that presses against him. It's a growl. Why is he growling? And he's shaking. I try to look up at him but he grunts and holds me in place.

"Don't move." His voice is low. I'm confused. I feel him move, slowly bending his head down to place his nose on my neck. He inhales quietly, calming himself.

Oh.

He still feels the need to Mark me.

"Do it." I say quietly. He hisses between his teeth and I can feel him shake with effort. It's probably stronger than ever, from being sustained for so long. "I'm serious. It was torture not being able to talk to you." He lets out a soft noise of pain, but he keeps his nose on my neck. "Why won't you? You told me you want to."

He takes a shaky breath.

"I can't, Nicole." His voice is deeper than it was a year ago. A whole other octave.

"Why?" He shakes his head.

"I'm not going to do that to you. You don't understand." I move slightly.

"You're right. I don't." He looks at me with conflicting eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you." I hug him again, feeling his breath on my cheek.

"It's okay."

We stay like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other's presence.

"Nic?" He asks. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"For letting go of you. Not searching harder." He pauses. "It killed me."

"You shouldn't be apologizing. I hadn't tried to run away." Only because I had someone watching me 24/7. He snorts because he knows.

"I missed you so much." His voice cracks and he clutches me to him tighter, digging his face into the crook of my neck. His breath makes goosebumps rise.

"I missed you, too." He tenses again. What is up with me saying I missed him? Why is it making his... Need... Apparent?

I don't know.

And I don't care.

--

I climb into his bed, in some of Carly's old pajamas. Damian lent them to me eagerly. I think I remind them of her. That thought pleases me.

I'm tired. My wrists and ankles hurt. I want to sleep. This bed is so much more comfortable than the one I slept on at the PackHouse.

I roll over on the bed, closing my eyes and almost falling asleep instantly. And then there's movement next to me.

Sleepily, I tilt my upper body to see behind me. Dallas climbs in next to me, lifting the covers slightly to slide in.

"What are you doing here?" I turn fully, looking at him curiously. He glances at me, his eyes bright.

"You thought I'd leave you alone after what happened?" He grins at me, letting go of the covers so they rest on our sides. I roll my eyes at him and turn back around.

"You're lucky I'm tired or I would tell you to get out."

"No, you wouldn't." I roll my eyes again, even though he can't see me.

He's right. I wouldn't.

We lay like that for a few minutes. I can't fall asleep now, knowing he's watching me.

"I can't sleep." He mumbles quietly behind me.

"Me neither."

He suddenly grabs me and pulls me closer to him. I squeak in surprise and turn my head to look at him skeptically. "What are you doing?"

His eyes are closed and he's taking deep breaths. Calming himself again.

"This was not a good idea." He grunts.

I roll my eyes and turn back over for the second time, closing my eyes.

After some time, his arm wraps around my waist and I feel his breath on my neck. My back is pressed against his chest.

His warmth fills me, head to toe, and I find myself trying to scoot closer.

I fall asleep like that, my eyes too heavy for my eyelids.

--

In the morning, I wake up first. I'm used to it. My father always woke me up at four in the morning. Six is "sleeping in" to me.

I'm afraid to move because Dallas's chin is on my head.

With a grunt, I pull away to turn. His head tilts downwards from my movement.

He doesn't stir.

He's so peaceful when he sleeps. His face is relaxed, his eyes closed. He looks younger, his hair over his forehead slightly and his mouth open as he breathes. He doesn't snore, but he breathes heavily.

His face is slackened with sleep. I can't help but watch, examining him shamelessly because I can't when he's awake..

I lean forward, kissing his cheek. His eyes flutter underneath the lids. I kiss his chin and he lets out a long breath. I move my hands to his side, lifting up the bottom part of his shirt to see his familiar scars. He turns away from me, withdrawing his arm from its spot on my waist, and his eyebrows furrow. This all happens while he's asleep. It's hilarious.

With his back to me, I pull his shirt up all the way to see the ugly words written on him. 'Failure' is the biggest. The other words - Disappointment, hopeless, mistake - are smaller.

All. Over. His. Back.

It hurts to look at them, knowing how much pain and sorrow he had been through to receive them.

I trace one of the words with my finger and feel him flinch. Do they still hurt?

I scoot closer to his back, running a thumb over the sensitive skin. He exhales heavily and I realize that I'm hurting him. I press my lips against the word on his back and he groans quietly. My arm drapes over his side.

I don't bother to pull his shirt down. He's starting to sweat.

With a sigh, I run my fingers through his hair. I honestly don't know why. I just want to feel his hair. It's as soft as his fur when he's a wolf. Surprising me. Again, I don't know why.

He turns his head to look at me, his eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. "What are you doing?" He mumbles groggily. I run my hand through his hair again, gently tugging on the strands. His eyes close for a brief second.

When they open, I stare at the eyes of Shock. This is not good.

"Shock." I say quietly, unable to stop staring. He blinks, looking at me and cocking his head in a wolfy way. He grins.

"Nikki." He replies. I am shocked at how different his voice is than Dallas's. Dallas's is rough and raspy and deep(somehow managing to be melodious) from his damaged vocal cords. I remember the time before he was damaged; when his voice was smooth. Shock's voice is a little higher than Dallas's, but much more smooth and confident. He sounds like a talk-show host. That kind of voice. Crystal clear. Friendly. Just a touch of sass and attitude.

I tilt my own head, watching as he slowly pulls himself up into a sitting position. I do the same. He takes deep breaths as his eyes slowly fade back to green. His scarred eyes are wide with panic when he finally looks over at me.

"Nicole. You need to stop doing that. I can't... I can't hold my instincts in that much longer." His voice cracks with desperation.

"Why do you try so hard?" He winces.

"Nicole, I don't want you to see me like that. I... I become..." He trails off, his face flushing. "I can't let you see me like that." I shake my head.

I want him to Mark me.

"Just do it."

"You're so... So stubborn."

"Persistent." I correct, raising an eyebrow. He rolls his eyes.

"I meant stubborn." I elbow him lightly, causing him to laugh. The laugh seems rushed and I realize why. He's trying to change the subject.

"Dallas." He looks at me, his eyes nonchalant.

"No." I scoot closer to him and his eyes widen. He curses under his breath and turns to get out of the bed, suddenly realizing his long legs are under the covers. He can't get out with how tight I have them. He grips the edge of the covers, trying to peel them back. His face is pale with panic and he glances at me with wild eyes.

I grab his arms, stilling his movement.

"Nicole. Let me go. Please. I don't want you to see me like that. Stop.." He pauses when I move myself closer to him. "Nicole. I'm serious. I really don't want to righ -" he stops, suddenly focusing on controlling the rising wolf in him. I grab his hand and bring his palm to my lips. His hands are shaking and I realize with a startled suspicion that he's terrified.

I press my fingers in his palm, massaging the muscles and making him relax.

He stops trying to get out, thinking that it's okay for now. Nothing too bad. He leans back, gently tugging on his hand to get me to stop. I don't let go. He starts trying to get out again.

"Nicole. Don't. Don't do anything else. Let go of me." He demands, his voice raspier than usual. He latches his hand on my wrist, trying to pry my hand off. I yelp from my new scars and hiss when he lets go with a startled expression. He curses.

"I'm sorry. Nicole, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Goddess... I'm so sorry." He chants over and over, grabbing my forearm and bringing it to him to inspect it. I hiss at him. He takes my wrist gently between his fingers and rubs the circular scar with his thumbs soothingly. I grunt, letting out a high whimper. It stings. It burns. I need ice. But I know ice won't do anything.

"Nic? Nic?" His voice is panicked. I shake my head, tugging at my wrist. He doesn't let go, only continuing to soothe my new scars. He hits a nerve, causing me to relax. He brings my wrist closer to his face, his breath puffing against my skin. I close my eyes when I feel him kiss my wrist. Is this what it felt like when I kissed his scarred back?

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Guilt radiates off of him. Guilt and pain.

"I told you.." His voice cracks. "When my instincts take over, nothing good happens." He frowns. "I didn't mean to.." He says after a moment.

I cup his cheek with my hand. "Am I still breathing?" When he nods I ask," Am I talking?" He nods again. "Am I in tact?" Another nod. "Then I'm fine. It's okay. You didn't mean to." He shakes his head.

I'm still not ready to give up.

Taking this chance, I touch my lips to his jaw. He swears under his breath, stilling. When I glance at him, his eyes are unfocused. My lips linger on his jaw. His breathing becomes deeper as I kiss him. "Nicole... Stop." He whispers. His eyes are almost closed all the way. I run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to groan quietly. I can tell his teeth are aching again. He's tempted.

I move my lips to the base of his neck, feeling him shudder. "Nicole. Stop.. I'm... I'm going to..." He throws his head back, feeling his canines lengthen. My cheek rests against his neck and I feel him swallow hard. I kiss him right where he swallows and he hisses. "Stop..." He curses. "Nicole. You need to stop now." He suddenly rips the covers back, moving his legs slowly to get out.

Pressing my nose against his neck, I inhale to calm my wolf. He gently pushes me off him, moving his feet off the bed to stand. He stands, looking at me.

"Nicole, you can't do that." His eyes are wide. "You... You can't.." I can see his long canines peek out of his mouth.

He suddenly bows his head, pinching his nose and opening his mouth. His lips peel up on his gums, making him look as if he's baring his teeth. He looks in pain.

His teeth seem to shorten, and he sweats. It must have taken a lot of effort to do that, and it makes me realize how hard this is on him. The amount of strain and self-control he has is amazing. But I'm frustrated with him. I'm trying to make it so he doesn't have to go through this anymore.

He looks at me, seeming to droop. "Please.. Please don't, Nicole. I'm tired." I don't blink when I look at him, making sure I keep my eyes emotionless.

"Then go to sleep." I motion at his spot in front of me and he glances at me to see if I'm joking. He knows I'm not going to stop.

"No."

"Don't make me get up, Dal." I warn him. His eyes widen and he backs up. Why does he insist so much? He told me himself that he wants to Mark me.

"Don't get up. S-Stay there." I stand, against his demands and he's at the door grabbing the knob. He twists it. Locked. Realization dawns on him. I locked it last night after he fell asleep. His face pales. His eyes fog up again, and I recognize this as communicating with a Pack member. I know who he's talking to. His father.

He leans back against the door, as far away from me as he can be. I walk towards him while his eyes are fogged. He's not paying attention.

I lean up to kiss him gently and wrap my arms around him in a hug once I pull away. His heart is beating wildly in his chest and as he comes back to reality, he cautiously hugs me back.

"I don't understand." I say after a moment. He flinches.

"I barely understand myself, Nic." He says quietly.

"No. I don't understand why you won't let go."

"I'm scared, Nic. As soon as I Mark you, you'll want to Mark me. There's no going back." This hurts.

"Would you want to go back?"

"No!" He answers almost before I finish asking. "No, I wouldn't. But I don't know if you would. It's.... It's not safe right now, Nic, you know? I-I don't want to do anything you'll regret." He looks down at me intensely.

"Dallas. It hurts to see you like this. It hurts to watch you do this to yourself. I'm trying to make it easier." He shakes his head.

"It's not easier. I'm this close to loosing myself. I don't want to loose myself. After two years of knowing you, I don't want you to see me so desperate."

"I've already seen you like that." I think of when he was being torn apart by the wolves.

"Not that type of desperate. That type of desperate was because I didn't want to die. This desperate.... This desperate is... Animalistic." He pauses, seeing if I understand. I do. I can't believe I didn't realize it before. By animalistic, he means that he won't be able to stop himself from caving in to instincts; he won't be able to stop himself if he attacks me for some reason. If he hurts me in any way. If he wounds me. He doesn't want to take that risk. "I don't want you looking at me like I'm an animal. I may have wolf in me, but I'm as human as the next person." He grows serious, pulling away from me and towering over me. When did he grow so tall? He's like six feet.

"Dal. I won't look at you any differently. You should know that." He looks at the ground, embarrassed and looking like a caged animal.

"You don't understand. It's hard for me to be near you." I flinch and guilt crosses over his face. "No, not like that. It's hard because every time I'm near you, I start loosing it. I can't stand to look at you without my instincts threatening me." I take the extra step towards him and he just stares at me. "This is so much harder than it has to be."

"It doesn't have to be. I'm telling you right now, Dallas. I'm not going to stop." He swallows hard, panic flashing across his face. I can tell he's even closer to giving in now that I've got him almost past the hesitation. He reaches up to touch his mouth, right on his teeth. He doesn't flinch this time when they elongate. He stares at me, running his thumb over his tooth.

I see him battle with himself. He wants to. He really wants to. I can't take it anymore. I step forward, wrapping my arms around his sides and pressing my cheek against his chest. He tries to step back but only makes it to where his back is against the wall and he has no way of escaping. He swears. "Nicole. I'm so cl-close to loosing control. I-I need... Stop.. Nicole." His voice rumbles deep in his chest. And then he moves. Suddenly, his face is pressed against my neck. He curses, pressing his palms flat against the wall behind him and inhaling my scent. "It's-it's not working..!" I catch a glimpse of his panicking figure. "Nicole! S-stop!" His voice becomes thick. And then I feel something scrape against my neck. His teeth. He's going to Mark me. "Goddess, have mercy on my soul." He hisses, his voice right next to my ear.

"Dallas. Stop holding onto the control and being so wound-up tight. If you don't calm down right now, I'm going to do something that will stop you from hesitating." His breathing quickens.

"I can't calm down! Nicole, I'm..." He stops when he feels me suddenly press my fingers against his scars. "Nicole. Nic. Nicole. Stop. Stop it." He's shaking again.

"I told you that if you didn't calm down, I would have no choice." I gently rub my thumbs over his stomach. Belly rub. Just like when he's a wolf. He shudders, his knees becoming weak and ready to give out. I push him back so he's leaning against the wall completely.

His face rests on my neck, not allowing me to see his reaction. He groans quietly by my ear. His teeth scrape against my neck again, slowly, as if he's trying to resist the urge. Which he is. "This.. This is the last... I can't... I'm-I'm loosing... Nic, stop..." I don't and he hisses. His nose presses against my skin as a last attempt. He groans again, his knees buckling but the wall supports his weight. "I-I-I won't be able t-to -" and then the door again opens to interrupt us. Damian. Seriously?