Makaela awoke to a set set of curious, red eyes looking down at her.

She sucked in a sharp breath and pressed her back into the ground beneath her. Her heart fluttered as her chest tightened as she shrunk underneath his intense gaze.

"Did I frighten you?" Dorian—her new companion—furrowed his brows. "I didn't mean to." He quickly moved away from her.

"N-No," she stuttered. "You just caught me off guard." Grunting, she pushed her aching body into a sitting position. Her muscles were on fire and the pain her face hadn't subsided. She could smell the dried blood beneath her nose. The metallic scent almost made her gag.

Dorian, who was crouched beside her, licked his thumb and rubbed it into the bloodstains above her lip. She scooted away and screwed her face at him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He tilted his head like a dog. "Helping."

"First of all, that's gross," Makaela replied while shuddering. "Second, don't put your saliva on me, got it? I get that you're part dog or whatever, but that's not what humans do."

He apologized and hung his head. "Would you like me to find some water for you?"

She blinked twice. Why was he being so nice to her? They barely knew each other.

"No...that's fine. Thanks."

He nodded.

His behavior was interesting, to say the least. If someone took away the red tribal markings decorating his sculpted back and gave him normal colored contacts, she would've never known he was a savage werewolf known for slaughtering tons of people in cold blood.

Though, he did seem to act more like a dog than a human person. He was protective of her. Now that she was thinking of it, he hadn't really left her side since she blew open his cell. She had no idea why. He didn't even know her. She wasn't one of his pack members—or his mate. They weren't even friends. She knew nothing about him, and he knew nothing about her.

Even though she freed him from his cell, he was still a creature known to be born without a moral compass.

Why is he being so nice to me?

"Is everything alright?" Dorian asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"It's just that you look sort of...angry."

She rolled her eyes at him. "That's just my thinking face."

"Well, what're you thinking about?"

The golden-eyed magician pursed her lips, debating on whether or not to question him about his helpfulness. It was an odd inquiry, but she was curious now. Despite only meeting one Redfang once in her life, she was fairly certain she knew how they were supposed to act. And Dorian definitely didn't fit their description.

She decided to drop it. Maybe Nyghtmir had put him in rehabilitation classes to turn him into a tamer version of himself.

"I was thinking: 'where the hell are we'?" she replied.

They weren't in Vashara, despite going through the portal back in the prison. She and her group, sans the Nightlings, were inside a gloomy cave. A waterfall cascaded over the entrance, shielding them from the dangers outside. Over the rushing water, Makaela heard crickets chirping in the air.

She looked around the cave. Crystals sparkled in the craggy ceiling, glinting with the faint light seeping in through the opening at the mouth of the cave. Off to the side, Emile and Amora stood whispering to themselves.

Makaela cleared her throat and they both turned toward her.

"Finally, you're awake," Amora said. "Thought you died."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you."

Amora shrugged. "I dunno. I'm kind of warming up to you."

Makaela laughed.

"We're glad you're okay," Emile said with a wry smile.

She nodded at him. "Where are we? I thought you programmed the portal to send us to Vashara."

Emile wrung his hands. "After our little endeavor, it wouldn't have been wise to drop ourselves in the center of the woodland city. It was better to have the portal transport us here."

"And where exactly is here?"

"We're in a forest some miles out of Vashara," he answered. "The city is a day's walk away."

Makaela threw her head back and let out a groan. "More walking? Just kill me now."

Amora snickered.

"You could ride on my back if you'd like," Dorian offered. Makaela declined his offer.

She looked around the cave again, this time realizing the Nightlings weren't with them. She knit her brows together. "Where are Sybil and Adair?"

"They went hunting," Amora answered. "They should be back soon."

Makaela squinted at the girl. "You just let them go out on their own? Aren't you afraid they might run off and leave?"

"Yes, we are," Emile said. "Which is why I put a tracking charm on them." He held his palm up and muttered a spell. A map of the forest they were in hovered above his hand. Two purple dots moved throughout the trees at a quick pace.

Makaela nodded at him. She then laid back down onto the cave's floor. Yawning, she closed her eyes. The fatigue from her battle in the prison hadn't gone away yet. She needed a nap.

A long one at that.

"I'm going back to sleep," she mumbled. "Wake me up when it's time to start heading for Vashara."

"We all should get some rest," Emile said.

"I'll keep watch until the Nightlings get back," Dorian said.

"Good idea."

Makaela opened an eye and watched as the werewolf moved toward the cave's entrance. He shifted into his massive, black wolf form and patrolled the opening. His crimson irises bleed through the shadows around him. He caught her staring and let out a sharp bark.

Her cheeks warmed and she averted her gaze. She closed her eyes and willed sleep to take her once again.

⟐ ⟐ ⟐

This time, Makaela awoke to the feeling of someone tucking her ebony curls behind her small ears. She shot the werewolf above her a pointed look.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

Dorian dipped his head. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. You look...peaceful when you're asleep."

She gaped at him before shaking her head. "You can't just touch me...especially when I'm asleep. That's weird...and creepy...and—"

"It won't happen again," he promised.

Makaela observed him carefully. For a person who could turn into a monstrous beast at will, he was fairly submissive. She figured that part of his personality must've also been a side effect of his time spent in captivity.

Still, something about him seemed off. He seemed to only pay attention to her. Something he had said before she broke him out of his cell returned to her.

"It's you...you're her..."

He had seen her before, but she had never met him. The words sent a shiver down her spine. Why did a Redfang who had been locked away for who knows how long know her face? Plenty of people knew of her, but only a few knew what she looked like now that she was a woman.

But Dorian knew. How?

Makaela chewed on her bottom lip.

"You're doing it again," Dorian said.

"Doing what?"

"Thinking."

She huffed and turned away from him. Why is paying so much attention to me?! Women in movies and television shows always complained about how their significant others never paid them attention, but Makaela was beginning to realize that might not have been such a bad thing. Dorian seemed to be following her like a lost puppy who had been separated from his pack.

Now facing away from the young werewolf, she noticed the cave wasn't as dark as before. Sunlight streamed in through the opening. The sound of crickets rubbing their legs together had been replaced by songbirds releasing their ballads into the air.

How long was I asleep?

Hours had passed since the last time she had been awake. On the plus, side she wasn't nearly as tired anymore. While she could tell her nose had swelled up a bit, the constant pain had reduced to sporadic throbs every couple of minutes.

Yawning and stretching her arms, she stood up. She looked down and saw a few splotches of blood splattered across her stolen Eldai uniform. Scowling, she trudged over to the waterfall at the edge of the cave and began to peel off her top.

Even though she had an undershirt on underneath the grey jacket, she couldn't help but feel self-conscious. The fact that Dorian had his red eyes trained on her wasn't making her feel any better.

She cleared her throat as she tossed the bloodstained jacket to the ground. "Can you stop staring?"

"Sorry." He immediately shifted his eyes to the floor.

She turned slightly and arched an eyebrow at him. It was if she had some sort of power over him. She wasn't used to that. While she may have been powerful in her own right, she didn't exactly command the respect of those around her. But her words held weight with Dorian. He honored her wishes and never talked back—unlike a particular boy she once had feelings for.

Or, she still had feelings for. She wasn't exactly sure.

Sebastian still crossed her mind every now and then. But this time, she saw him for what he was: the true enemy. Whenever his pale face and mysterious, brown eyes entered her head, she blocked him out. She drew an imaginary X over his memory, blocking him out from her psyche.

He, along with the others with him, was the enemy. They were trying to stop the Order's progress, and for that, they would be punished. There was no space for them in her heart. She had a new family now.

She glanced behind her. Emile and Amora were her new family, as much as she despised the latter. The two of them were still asleep on the ground; their light snores filled up the inside of the cave. The Nightling siblings had returned as well and were cuddled up against each other near the rear end of the cave. They lingered in the darkness, nearly vanishing in it.

Makaela turned her gaze to Dorian. A muscle in his cheek tightened as he glared at the ground. His mouth twitched as if he were scolding himself inside his own head. She studied him carefully, her eyebrows raised slightly with intrigue.

He truly was an enigma. After she had decided to free him from Nyghtmir, she had half expected him to eat her and her companions the first chance he got. Then again, she also expected that from the two Nightlings as well. So far, none of them had been devoured yet.

But Sybil and Adair were certainly unhinged. They acted like monsters—because that's what they were. Dorian was too, but he didn't act like it. Before meeting him, she had thought all werewolves were cruel, sinister creatures.

Her forehead creased as she scowled at her own thoughts.

I'm being a hypocrite. I'm just as much of a monster as he is.

Still mentally scolding herself, she approached Dorian with caution. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

He looked up at her.

"What's your deal?"

"My deal?"

"You know..." She trailed off. Her eyes widened upon realizing he truly had no idea what she was talking about. It was as if he didn't know that he was different. She decided she'd start with another pressing question that had been eating away at her. "Why'd you want to be released so bad? I mean, I know that's a dumb question since you were a prisoner, but it seemed like you really wanted to leave."

Dorian squeezed his mouth into a flat line. He rubbed the back of his neck. A low exhaled left his lips. "I've seen you before. In my dreams."

Makaela flinched backward. "What?"

He nodded. "I don't know how or why, but whenever I close my eyes, I see you. I know it sounds crazy, but it was always you. Your face, your smile, your eyes." A faint smile stretched his lips. "Then you showed up in Nyghtmir. I couldn't..." His hands clenched into fists. "You were so close. I couldn't just let you go without trying to come with you."

Her racing thoughts stalled into a dull fog. She opened her mouth, but she couldn't think of what to ask first. She bit down on her lip. "I don't understand."

"I don't either. But I do know one thing."

"And why is that?"

"I'm meant to protect you. To keep you safe from harm."

She resisted the urge to scoff at him. Shaking her head, she waved off his claims. "I don't need your protection, thank you very much. I've managed fine by myself so far."

"Who carried you out of that prison?"

Makaela's face flushed. She stuttered. "That was one time," she managed to get out.

"I'm sure they'll be more."

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and a smidge of anger. She didn't need a protector. She was her own protector. She always had been, and she always would be.

"I don't need your protection," she repeated.

"I know you don't think you need it," he replied. He took a step closer to her and craned his neck downwards. Butterflies flitted around Makaela's stomach as she looked up at him. "But you have no idea what's coming. My dreams...they've shown me other things. Things that no one should have to see."

Her breath caught in her throat. She suddenly felt small under his scarlet stare. His stern expression made her want to jump out of her skin and hide. Coughing awkwardly, she looked down at her shoes.

"Fine."

Dorian smiled.

She rubbed her foot into the ground and pinched her lips together. No one had ever made her feel like that before. Except for Sebastian. When she had been forced to leave him, she thought she'd never feel like that again. But there she was, standing chest-to-chest with a convicted werewolf.

While she adamantly believed she didn't need his protection, she couldn't deny the way it made her feel. It was as if she were a queen or empress of some sort and he was her royal guard.

She brushed a few strands of hair out her flustered face and looked to the ground. A question burst into her head like an explosion spell. She returned her gaze to Dorian.

"Why were you in Nyghtmir?" she asked him. "You don't really seem like a criminal."

His face fell a bit. "My brothers and sisters are not good people. We do bad things. Things that the council don't like. Sometimes we get caught and thrown in jail."

She had a feeling she knew what 'bad things' meant.

"Your clan made you do those things?"

He scowled. "My clan didn't make me do anything. I chose to do it. I accepted my punishment, just as any honorable wolf would've done."

Makaela nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

The werewolf released a breath. "It's alright. I'm just tired of people making it seem like I was forced to commit those crimes. I did them and I paid the price for it."

Most criminals would've protested their innocence until the planet froze over. They would've claimed they had nothing to do with the crime, even if all the evidence pointed straight to them. Others would've done anything to avoid being sentenced.

But not Dorian Redfang. He wore his pride on his sleeve and didn't seem to be ashamed of his status as a criminal.

He was free now, though. And once Thorian usurped the council and established himself as the leader of their new world, he would remain free.

Makaela's eyes widened as she smiled. "We're even now."

Dorian squinted at her. "Even?"

"I saved you from Nyghtmir and you saved me from dying," she answered. "So, we're even. You don't have to protect me."

He chuckled. "Nice try."

She shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

While she still didn't believe his protection was needed, she wasn't going to object to it anymore. Besides, she could've used another friend her age. Amora wasn't exactly someone she could call a friend; she was barely an acquaintance. And while she trusted Emile more than anyone in the Order, he was nearly twice her age and more aloof than an alley cat. As for the Nightlings, it was a miracle they hadn't killed everyone and fled the cave.

Dorian was pretty much her only candidate for a potential friend. It also helped that he was extremely nice and attentive. Had Amora been in her place, she would've taken advantage of the poor werewolf.

He was lucky she wasn't spawned from Nordor like the Tenebrian princess.

She faced the werewolf. "Hey."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to go for a walk?"

"I would like that."

He beamed at her. His warm smile melted her heart. She disguised her mushy insides by awkwardly smiling back at him.

Walking side-by-side, the two of them passed along the edge of the rushing water descending down the mouth of the cave and vanished into the murky fog encompassing the forest outside.