Nicole's POV
--

What happened to him? What happened to the funny boy who was my best friend; my mate?

Damian died. Something happened. I know Spencer killed him. I know Dallas was watching. Because of the Mate Bond, I can sense that Dallas doesn't feel anything. He says the truth when he tells me that. He is numb. All of this pressure is weighing on his shoulders and he's trying to lift it and carry it.

But something is off. About Damian's death. Something happened.

And I'm going to find out.

Suddenly, I hear his voice through the Mindlink to the pack.

"Warriors. Start training. Every wolf old enough is to be taught how to protect itself. Females who are not warriors and children under the age of sixteen are not fighting, but need to learn the basics. Thank you." His voice is filled with even more authority than the Pack Meeting. He really is becoming the Alpha.

Then, his voice speaks clearly into my mind and Mica's. "Mica. You are to train Nicole."

"Yes, Alpha." Comes Mica's respectful response. Why is he calling his best friend by his title? Oh... Because Dallas isn't completely at Alpha standards yet and if his title is not used, it'll give his wolf the impression that people don't respect him and think of him as weak while he gains his traits. Something tells me I'm an exception. Dallas disconnects and Mica tells me to meet him out front. Why isn't Dallas training me himself? Why don't I train with the others?

When I step outside, I am greeted by the grinning face of Mica. He walks over to me, slinging an arm around my shoulders like he's my best friend. Which he is. Next to Dallas.

He's more like an older brother; Mica.

"How are ya, Nikki?" He grins at me, looking down at me with his humorous eyes.

I grin. "Good. You?" He nods to answer my question as we start walking towards a spot away from everyone. I open my mouth to ask a question, but he answers it before it can be asked.

"Dallas is making me train you because he's too busy himself. He has to check the patrols and look over training and he knows that I'm the next best thing." He leans in to stage-whisper. "He knows I won't hurt you."

My eyes widen. "Did I not mention that once an Heir becomes Alpha, they become more possessive and protective of their Mate?" He asks sheepishly.

"Yeah.. You kinda left that out..." I grumble. So Dallas is going to become... Possessive?

"Yeah. Just to warn you. And he knows I wouldn't dare make a move on you." He grins and shudders. "I wouldn't even try. That's like me flirting with my sister." He shudders again.

I laugh and gently punch his arm. "I'm not that bad." He shakes his head, grinning like a mad man. He needs to find his Mate. Soon.

"Ready to start?" He asks, eyeing me as if deciding on questions he wants to ask.

I nod eagerly and ask him what I need to do. I don't know the first thing about fighting.

He quickly helps me get in my stance, my feet slightly spread and bouncing on my toes, stomach tight, right fist by my cheek, and left fist slightly out and down. It takes me a few times to get it right until it becomes natural. I'm nervous. And that's an understatement.

He starts telling me about certain techniques and is surprised when I catch on easily to those. Funny how it's complicated for me to figure out how to stand properly, yet I can easily throw some punches.

"Bolo Punch!" He shouts.

We are working on boxing right now.

I drop my back and hand and swing my front one to the air, keeping on my toes. I can feel Mica's eyes watching me meticulously and looking for errors.

"Next time, drop your back hand lower. It distracts your opponent and draws their eye away for the second you need to connect it with their face." I nod, bouncing again and try. Sweat drips down my face, glistening and making me feel sticky.

Once I do the move, Mica grins wildly and nods his head. "That was perfect!"

And training goes on like that for three hours.

By the time I'm done, I know enough moves that are effective. I thought I was sweating earlier.

It practically pools off of me, dripping from my fingers and chin and nose. My shirt is sweat stained.

Bending down, I press my hand against my knees and gasp for air. I'm exhausted. I've never been worked so hard. And this wasn't even really work. I haven't even punched anything. Well, unless you count air.

Mica walks up to me, patting my back gently.

"You alright, Nichole?" Him saying my name makes me realize he's being serious and not goofing around like usual.

I don't bother lifting my head, but I raise my hand and give him a thumbs up. He chuckles.

"Come on. Let's get you to the PackHouse. That's enough for today. You did well!" He wraps his arm around me again, not seeming to care about my gross, sweaty skin. "Dallas'll be so proud!"

I only nod, sagging slightly. I really just want to sleep.

And then I hear a growl rip through the air. A vicious growl. A booming growl. An angry growl.

Dallas.

I'm ripped away from Mica and pulled into my Mate, his arms helping keep me up.

"What happened?" He demands, his scarred green eyes glaring at Mica.

"We trained. She didn't want to stop." Mica was right. I didn't.

"You should have! She looks half-dead!" He hisses at him. Mica reaches out to pat my arm soothingly, but Dallas growls lowly, pulling me even more close. His minty scent fills my nose and I turn my face to bury it in his shirt as I inhale it. "Mine." He growls darkly. I'm so glad he's not growling at me.

Mica holds up his hands. "Listen, dude. I wasn't going to do anything, just reassure her. I think your scaring her." Dallas's eyes are dark, showing he's close to shifting. I've never seen him so angry.

"What did I tell you?" Mica sings in my head. "Possessive."

I huff, and slightly relax when I feel Dallas press his nose against my neck. His chest heaves and I slowly drape my arms around him.

My body aches and everything hurts.

"Dallas... You're hurting me." I grumble and he instantly loosens his hold.

Then he surprises me by pulling away, his eyes back to their guarded state that they've been in ever since his father died. He turns, walking away with long, fast strides, and I can't help but watch him.

What is going on?

--

I train everyday with Mica until I'm sweating and can't get up. Meanwhile, Dallas has been off dealing with the war. He hardly speaks to me.

The worst part is that I can't sleep without his scent. And he's avoiding me.

So he gives me one of his T-shirts.

I don't now why he's avoiding me. I want him to talk to me. We used to be so close until his father died.

I'm afraid it's never going to go back to normal.

Mica keeps telling me he'll come around, but I don't know what to do.

I know it wasn't me who pushed him away. I know it's his father's death. I know he doesn't want to be Alpha. He hates the stress and the responsibility. He's only sixteen and it's way too much for him to handle. I can see it in his eyes. He's lost the capability to feel. He's an empty shell of himself.

And to top it all off, he's at war. He's broken inside, but he won't let anyone in to see it. He won't allow anyone to fix him; to help him overcome the death of his father. It was too fast, the transition from his father to him becoming Alpha. There's supposed to be a ceremony, but Damian died. He believes he's supposed to be perfect for his pack. But he doesn't realize that he already was.

--

It's been a few months. Dallas and I have only grown apart. I'm loosing him. And that terrifies me.

I'm great at my training. I'm able to fight against Mica now. I don't win, but it's almost a fair fight. I haven't had to put any of it to use yet. And the gut wrenching exhaustion has left me light on my feet. I'm more muscular and fit, able to move from one point to another in two seconds flat.

Sometimes, I feel eyes on me. By the intensity, I know it's Dallas.

Speaking of him, I haven't spoken with him for seven weeks and three days and ten hours. Yes, I'm keeping track. Every time I try to, he's gone. He disappears, leaving me unsuccessful. I miss hugging him. I miss kissing him. I miss talking to him. I miss laughing with him.

I miss him.

Each time I come to training, Mica notices the disappointment on my face. He's tried getting Dallas and I talking to each other again. He's tried everything. He's like a big brother to me. He is a big brother to me. I love Mica. He's going to make his Mate very happy one day.

He's the only person I have right now.

My wolf has become extremely weak. She needs her Mate. I need my Mate. I'm able to shift, but she always lets me take over because of her need for rest.

--

A year. A stinking year. I haven't talked to Dallas for a year. I snap at everyone. Even at Mica. Poor guy.

I'm constantly grumpy and moody and no one ever talks to me anymore because of my temper. Whenever I see Dallas, I ache. Everything aches for him.

I have bags under my eyes. His T-shirt isn't enough for me to sleep anymore. I barely sleep at all.

And my 17th birthday is coming soon.

Finally, one day. I snap. While he's in sitting in the kitchen eating his food, I charge in.

"We need to talk."