Hey!

So, I'm so sorry for the late update! I've been busy with school! :/ I hope you like this chapter! Took me two hours to write and it's much longer than I thought it was going to be! Thanks for reading!! :D

~Lissa

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"H-how are you alive?" Noah stuttered, utterly shocked. "You're dead - I mean, there was so much b-blood . . ." I looked at the phone in my hand, hoping I was hearing him right. This whole time, my family thought I was dead? Flashing back to the day of falling out of the tree, I remembered the numerous wounds inflicted in my body from teeth and scratches by Drew's pack members. Actually, some of the wounds were still healing, undoubtedly leaving scars on my pale skin. But, after all, I was mauled by a group of werewolves; enough blood could've been left behind for my family to assume I had been dead. I glanced at Drew who was eavesdropping on our conversation for obvious reasons, wondering if he knew about this. Though, he looked confused, an eyebrow raised in question. "God, I can't believe you're alive! We've been going crazy here. . ."

"I'm surprised I'm alive, too," I responded, truthfully. Drew shifted, leaning against his desk with his arms folded across his chest. Sniffling, I wiped a tear away, feeling the hot liquid stroll down my cheek. "I never thought I'd hear from you again."

"Hey, don't cry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "It's going to be okay, I promise. We're going to find you and everything will be back to the way it was." I shook my head, knowing that wasn't going to happen. For one, Drew wasn't going to let me go that easily and if I did escape with my family, it wasn't going to take him long to track me down with his mark on my neck. But, once my family saw the mark, they would've probably kicked me away, claiming I was a disgrace. That, or they sought out Drew and killed him, which believe it or not, I didn't want to happen. His death would've affected me more than I ever wanted it to. "Do you know where you're at? What pack? I'll come get you."

Drew cleared his throat as a warning and I sucked in a breath. "I-I can't tell you." He swore to himself and I rubbed my eye. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'm fine." Lie. No, I wasn't fine - actually, I was far from fine. My body was covered with wounds and the mark on my neck was throbbing, reminding me that I was belonged to dipsh*t. Werewolves with red eyes were running around, posing a threat to everyone, including my family who I missed more than anything in the world. And, if I didn't convince them into stopping the war, there were going to be two wars, meaning a lot of death.

"Not worry about you? It's impossible not to worry about you - you're the most reckless person I know, Nora," he responded, probably rolling his eyes. I scratched my forehead, knowing it was true. I glanced at Drew who was frowning in concentration as he listened to my brother exhale loudly on the other end. "Dad went insane when he heard you were dead; he met with some hunters and now. . .it's just a big mess. And, well, the thought of you dying - just like Mom - nearly killed me! I lost it, Nora. I mean, I thought I had lost another person I cared about. . ."

The mention of our mother sent another tear from my eye and furiously, I wiped it away. Tears were a sign of weakness; I needed to stop crying, especially in front of Drew. I glanced at him, not surprised to see him looking at me with sadness swarming in his eyes. Great, I thought, realizing he now knew my mother was dead and because of the mark, he was probably feeling my emotions, which all consisted of remorse, anger, and heartbreak. But, I didn't need his pity - I didn't need anyone's pity.

"I heard about the bar," I said, quietly. "I heard about how you walked in there and started shooting."

"Oh, yeah, I was mess," he responded, followed by some shuffling on the other end. "I had just heard that you were dead; I needed to release some anger, you know? I mean, I've been blaming myself for your death this entire time, Nora. I've been thinking of ways I could've taught you better - I thought I didn't teach you enough and it was my fault that you were dead. Dad even blamed me for your death."

"No, that's not true," I said, shaking my head. "And, don't listen to what Dad says, okay? He blames everything on us - he blames us for Mom's death. It's the only way he copes." It was truth, even though I hated to admit it. While my father never outright told us, he blamed me and my brother for our mother's death, mainly because he needed someone to blame it on otherwise he would've lived blaming himself. When she died, he became distant, only speaking to the two of us when he needed to. I mean, he wouldn't even eat dinner with us at the table, but instead, relaxed in his recliner in the living room.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered, before clearing his throat. "But, you're alive - he's going to be thrilled when he hears about this!"

"Is he there?"

"No, he's out with other hunters," Noah answered, quietly. "I don't know if you've heard, but we've declared war - well, Dad has and I'm meant to follow. He's been planning this attack all night, Nora. He won't eat anything until he kills every last one of them." I gulped loudly, worriedly glancing at Drew who was rubbing his jaw in frustration. I opened my mouth to speak, but my brother stopped me by speaking. "Like I said, this is all a mess. Everybody is going insane; we're all wanting revenge on the werewolves for our losses. . ."

I bit my bottom lip. "Yeah, about that, will you just listen to me, okay? Um, I know about the war and it can't happen, Noah. Everybody wants revenge, but going to war against the werewolves isn't the best way to do it - or the smartest. Lots of people will die! I need you to try convincing Dad to stop the war because our hate towards these werewolves isn't what is important right now." A silence stretched on the other end of the line and I looked at Drew, not surprised to see him leaning closer towards me, eagerly waiting for a response.

"W-what? Are they forcing you to say this?" he asked, his voice raising. "No, we're not stopping the war! We want our revenge and I want my baby sister back! It's about time we take a stand against the werewolves, whether they kill us or not - it'll still get the message across that humans are just as violent and dangerous as they are."

I scratched my forehead. "No, they aren't forcing me to say this! I know this is a surprise and it isn't something you'd find me saying, but just listen to me, Noah. These werewolves, the ones that took me, aren't our biggest concern right now. There are werewolves running out there that are stronger and faster than we've ever dealt with; they're more powerful than Alphas. I've encountered a few when I've tried to escape and trust me, I nearly died. This isn't a joke, even though I wish it was because they're going to bring a lot of death."

"Bullsh*t," he said, followed by a frustrated groan. "If what you're saying is true, I would've heard about them or seen one before!"

"I think they're just now making an appearance," I told him, shrugging. "But, they have red eyes, Noah - come on, I know this sounds crazy, but you need to believe me! If you don't stop the war, there will be two wars, meaning twice as many deaths. And, if we lose against these red-eyes, I guarantee the world isn't going to be the same." I exhaled loudly, hoping this wasn't going to change the way he thought of me. "The werewolves that kidnapped me aren't important at the moment; trust me, I have them handled. We need to focus on these red-eyes."

"No."

"No?" I echoed, eyebrows knitted together. "Noah, are you not listening to me? These red-eyes are monsters!"

"And, the ones that took you aren't?" he countered, coldly. I bit my bottom lip, stumped at his words. "Whether some are more powerful than others, they're all the same! They're monsters! And, if you haven't realized, you're in their hands! Going to war is the perfect way to get you back; you'll be back home and safe." I opened my mouth to reply, but I didn't know how without making the situation worse. Drew watched me, waiting for me to think of a good response, but before I could, Noah continued. "I'm starting to think you're thinking differently about them. You haven't lost it, have you? Tell me you aren't changing the way you think about them. They aren't good, Nora. Whatever bullsh*t they have you believing, will eventually get you killed."

"Please, you need to stop the war," I begged him, picturing my family lying on the ground dead. Drew lying on the ground dead. "We need to fight against the red-eyes! We need to start focusing on them rather than the ones that have me!"

"I don't think so," he said, hoarsely. "I'm not going to focus on a bunch of bogus until you're home and the ones that have you are dead." I gulped loudly, suddenly fearful. The people holding me captive included Drew who happened to be my mate and Brody, a werewolf that I was starting to actually like as a friend. And, to be honest, a few others weren't that terrible either, but Reece needed to be shoved off a cliff into a lake of piranhas. I would've gladly handed him over to my family, along with his brother, Hulk.

"You realize there will be two wars then," I told him, shaking my head. "That means there is a higher chance I'll die."

"No, you'll be safe."

"No, I won't," I said, growing frustrated. "Because, I was taught by my brother that if you're going down, you're going down fighting." There was another silence and I blinked away the tears threatening to spill. I looked at Drew who was disappointed that I wasn't getting across to my brother; he was just as stubborn as I was. I took a deep breath and looking at Drew, I whispered, "I can't let you kill these werewolves that have me, Noah."

"Nora! They've got you twisted - you've got you believing a bunch of bullsh*t! Snap out of it!" Noah shouted, beyond angry. "Are you seriously starting to care about the monsters that killed Mom? What the f*ck!?" A tear streamed down my cheek and I choked back a sob at the mention of my mother. There was a small gasp to the left and I looked over, seeing Drew staring at me with sadness in his eyes, his mouth hanging open in shock. Now, he knew why I despised werewolves - why I had been killing several of them.

"You don't understand," I muttered, shaking my head.

"I don't understand!? No, I understand that you're beginning to care about them and you're turning against your own family! Your own flesh and blood!" he shouted, his voice ringing in my ears. "So, I'm assuming that you'll fight against us, on their side, when the war comes!? You'll seriously fight against your own family!?"

"No, I won't hurt you," I promised, frowning. "I couldn't -"

"But, you're on their side! I'm the one who taught you everything you know, Nora," Noah replied, harshly. "And, now, you're turning against me? I'm your brother! I was the one there for you when everything turned to sh*t! Not these monsters that you're beginning to call your friends! No, me! So, please, tell me that I'm misreading everything or else you've lost my trust for good." I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn't - I didn't have an answer. Honestly, I was lost at the moment; I was tied between my brother and the mate-pull forcing me to Drew. The silence stretched for several moments and I knew my brother was waiting for a response, hopefully one he wanted to hear. Realizing I wasn't going to answer, he exhaled loudly. "Well, I guess I have my answer."

"There can't be two wars," I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

A grunt came from the other end. "Well, there will be and if you stand against me when the war comes. . ."

"What?"

"You're not on my side anymore; you're the enemy, Nora," he answered, quietly. I heard the heartbreak in his words as he spoke and I guaranteed it was possible to hear my heart shattering in my chest. "You'll be treated like an enemy." Tears were rolling down my cheeks, uncontrollably. This wasn't supposed to happen - my brother was supposed to help me by convince our father into stopping the war. But, instead, things became extremely personal and emotional to the point that my brother was saying he would kill me if I fought against him at the war. He would kill you, I thought, feeling myself begin to tremble.

"I hope you change your mind," he added, then before I could utter an apology, he hung up. My brother, who I had been dying to hear from for days, had hung up on me. With a sob, I pulled the phone away from my ear, looking at the screen in surprise. Flipping the cell phone closed, I wiped underneath my eyes, then walked over to Drew. He watched me with sad eyes as I grabbed his wrist and slapped the cell phone in his hand.

"You got your answer," I croaked, stepping away from him.

He shook his head. "Nora, I'm sorry. If I had known . . ." I held up a hand, stopping him from continuing. I didn't want to hear anymore. I turned around and walked out of the office, feeling his eyes watching me leave. I stumbled down the hallways, seeing my surroundings blurry from the tears in my eyes. Stop crying! I thought, slapping the palm of my head against my forehead. This wasn't me - I didn't cry like this. I knew my family wasn't going to understand; like usual, it was all about revenge. My family wasn't like most families. They weren't loving and understanding, taking feelings into consideration. No, it was all about killing and whether or not you were good enough to survive.

I pushed open the bedroom door, surprised that I managed to find Drew's room. I staggered around the furniture to the connecting bathroom where I turned on the lights. Facing the mirror, I looked at my reflection, not surprised to find my eyes red and puffy. Dark circles rested underneath them, clearly visible without my concealer. Sucking in a breath, I turned on the faucet and splashed my face with cold water. Stop being a baby, I thought, tears are a sign of weakness. Growing up, that was the one thing my father would constantly remind me.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I spotted Drew standing in the doorway of the bedroom, looking at me with his blue eyes. "Nora. . ." he dragged, taking a step towards me. Quickly, I whipped around and slammed the bathroom door shut, locking it. I took another deep breath, before exhaling slowly to keep myself calm. My back slid down the door until I found myself sitting on the tiled floor, pressed against the door. I brought my legs to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees. Seconds later, Drew knocked softly on the door, attempting to open it. "Nora, open up. . . . I want to help."

"I don't want your help," I responded, picking at the tips of my fingers. "Because of you, my family hates me."

"They don't hate you."

"You heard my brother," I said, releasing a sniffle. "He hates me! He'll kill me if I fight against him in the war! He'll never want to see me again. . ."

"Come on, open the door," he responded, quietly. "We'll talk about this."

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Then, we won't talk," he said, turning the door handle of the bathroom. I closed my eyes for a moment, debating in my head what to do. The part of me hurt by my brother wanted me to remain in the bathroom until he eventually left while the mate-pull was urging me to open the door. But, my brother hated me and as I looked around the bathroom, I realized there wasn't anybody else around and at the moment, I didn't want to be alone. So, using the sink, I helped myself back to my feet, wiping away the wetness beneath my eyes. Hesitantly, I turned towards the door, then flicked the lock.

Opening the door, my eyes met his blue eyes that stared at me, filled with the same emotions overwhelming me. I nodded, then slipped past him, walking over to the bed. Holding back more tears, I crawled onto the bed, sitting against the headrest with my hands in my lap. Slowly, Drew sat down next to me, close enough that he was within fingers reach. And, I could tell he was a little cautious of how I was going to react with him being so close to me. But, when I didn't react, he relaxed next to me.

And, for the next hour, we sat there, not speaking a word.

But, just his presence was enough to make me feel better.