The following month after my cousin started to ignore me had been rough. Every day, it was the same thing, the same glance over to see if I was in the room and leaving if I was.

It had gotten to the point that I started to leave his meals in the kitchen for, so he could eat and stay healthy. Thankfully, he had been eating, even if it was only a couple of bites of whatever meal I had prepared.

And the same went with me, growing thinner and thinner while weeks passed because I hadn't felt the need to eat. I hadn't felt the need to do anything while I sunk lower and lower into the jaws of depression.

And unfortunately, I couldn't help it. I couldn't help sinking into depression, mourning over the loss of my little family, even when two were still alive. My father and my cousin were all that I had left, but for whatever reason, I was not allowed to speak to them at all.

And to be frank, I had an inkling that it was the king's doing that made it so I couldn't speak with them, but I made sure to keep my thoughts to myself because I had no idea who I could turn to.

The only good thing that came out of this; however, was that His Grace had finally shown me all of the places that I was allowed to go, a feat that would have been pleasant if it wasn't for the fact that the king was an ass, and I half-listened to what he had said, my thoughts elsewhere.

This had led him to be in a bitter mood, but I didn't care while I took in the areas that would become my sanctuary, especially the library and the weapon's room.

Those would be the places that I hung out the most, reading books about the history of Werewolves or picking a weapon and practicing with it, which was what I had been doing since early in the morning, skipping breakfast.

I stood outside in an abandoned training field with the grass just at my waist, clutching a bow and an arrow. A quiver of arrows was on my back, but I wasn't focused on those and only on the one in my hand with my gaze on a target I had found in a shed near the training grounds.

Taking in a deep breath, I let it out before releasing my arrow and hitting the center with a thunk.

A triumphant smile appeared on my lips, and I felt accomplished because it had been a while since I had shot an arrow at a target.

"Nice, Belle," someone said, coming over to me while I turned around about to pull an arrow out of the quiver. Louis grinned, his eyes shining with amusement and worry. "I didn't know you could do that."

I shrugged, relaxing. "Not a lot of people do," I admitted. "I don't think Peter even knows that I-" I cut myself and shook my head, grimacing. My grip tightened on the bow before I let out a sigh and relaxed.

"Can you hit the bullseye again?" Louis asked, changing the subject. He didn't mind that I stopped talking about my cousin and knew it was a testy subject.

I licked my lips and nodded my head. "Uh, ya, I think so," I said, doubtfully. I fiddled with the bow in my hand. "It's been a while since I shot a bow in front of people."

Louis nodded his head. "Let me get the arrow," he said. "And then you can shoot one at the target. Ok?"

I nodded my head and watched him jog through the tall grass to get to the target. A part of me had this urge to shoot an arrow through his skull, but I quickly shut it down, not knowing why I would think that.

Louis was a friend, a confidant, and I knew that he wouldn't hurt me.

However, I couldn't stop the urge, the instinct, as if a part of me was ingrained not to like Werewolves and to kill them.

And I had no idea why, and I was afraid of what would happen if I did not control myself or the urges.

"Belle?" Louis asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. He furrowed his brows in concern and studied me with his deep brown eyes. "Are you ok?"

I took a deep breath in and let it out, shaking my head. "Huh? Oh, ya, ya, I am fine." I cleared my throat and shifted on my feet. "Just thinking."

Louis raised an eyebrow. "About?" he asked. He studied me, and I could tell that he knew I wasn't fine. "What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about how much I miss my dad," I said, saying some part of the truth. I did miss my father, but that was not what I had been thinking about. The part that I was thinking about was how I had no idea if I should tell him about the urge to attack him because I had no idea how he would react.

It was a feeling that I had some days, but it wasn't important and was not something that I wanted out in the open, especially to someone like him.

Louis frowned and studied me. He knew that I was hiding something but didn't know what. However, he wasn't going to ask, and I was grateful for that. "Well," he said, handing the arrow to me. "I don't know when you will be able to see him, but I can keep you company until then."

I smiled and nodded tiredly. "Thanks," I said, taking the arrow from him. "And, I know you don't, but for now, I do not mind your company at all."

Louis grinned, and relief filled his eyes. "Good," he said. "Because I wasn't going to leave you alone."

I shook my head and smiled. I was grateful for his company, even if it wasn't my cousin or my father. I trusted him and liked him a lot.

I just hoped that I could control the urge to hurt him. I did not want to and prayed it would never come...