The wolves split into three. A red one darted over Sam's direction, the light brown one barreled down at Zack's, and the last headed straight for her.

She waited for the impact, legs planted firmly on the ground; but he passed by her, attacking Marcus instead with a furious roar.

The two others seemed to be helping them as well, fending off Henry and the two men.

She glanced at Lucas, who seemed alarmed then. His eyes found hers and he smirked before grabbing Ryan by the arm and running off into the forest.

She ignored them, focusing on the two males fighting in front of her.

The full moon cast an eerie light over them as they squared off, highlighting their fur and lighting up Marcus's wound. The wolf that jumped in had a dirty-blond fur caked with mud; blue-gold eyes gave her a quick once-over, catching on the wound at her leg. His eyes glinted dangerously.

David, Marcus seethed through an open link. Still meddling into my business, I see.

The other male didn't bother with an answer, lunging at him with his claws.

She heard a pained howl and turned to see Sam barreling down on a light brown wolf, teeth sunk into red fur. He was massive, wounds leaking blood from all over his body but seemingly undeterred. He swayed a little on his feet, likely from the blood loss, but didn't falter. Val barked in alarm; Sam either didn't hear or ignored her.

Damian, Zack, and the third of their group were fighting off one of the wolves that were at Marcus's side along with Henry, who had stopped fighting altogether and stared at the red wolf in horror.

Val ran as fast as she could, spurred by a barely audible whimper. But none of them were fast enough to stop him as he clamped down his jaws and yanked on the neck, severing his head from his body. A sickening crack echoed through the clearing.

The wolf slumped, head falling with a roll and mouth open in its attempt to break free — but utterly still.

A sudden silence came over her; she saw red.

Sam stumbled, a roar of agony blowing past her jaws as she ran and growled out at the towering wolf. She tried to bite him when he ducked his head under her belly, hurling her body to the side.

Val snarled, bouncing at his unprotected side and toppling down with him. They rolled for a few feet before she pushed with her legs and pinned him down, biting back a pained hiss. She was sure she was going to regret a lot of things when the adrenaline run out.

Her jaws locked around the wolf's neck while his claws ripped and scratched at her belly in terror, a light catching at his panicked eyes. He didn't have enough strength left in him for it to count.

She managed to rip at the flesh before allowing him to push her off. Still, he wasn't able to get up, wound seeping blood faster than his body could heal. Val pressed a leg over his head with a terrible slowness, giving him a few moments to look at her — really look at her, in all her feral glory — and shredded at his belly, biting and chewing and nibbling at the meat. The wolf could only howl out in pain, whimpering under her paw, too weak to fight back.

She didn't know for how long she'd kept at it, only felt when someone tugged her off the dead body, a hole now gushing out his insides — or whatever was left of them.

She turned to Zack with a hungry snarl, drunk on her opponent's blood. He looked at her with solemn eyes. Sam was standing over the red wolf's body next to her parents, whimpering and howling out painfully. She sobered up immediately.

We need to go, Zack murmured over the link, and she knew there was no place for them left in the pack. They had to run.

Something burned in her chest.

Nodding, she walked over to Sam; body covered in blood, not really knowing which was her's.

She nudged at her side with a glistening red snout; Sam whipped her head, muzzle twisted into a snarl. Her mouth slacked at her appearance, worry creasing the fur of her brows.

Val glanced at the wolf at her feet. They had pushed the head back, almost making it whole again. But the angle was awkward as his scent washed over her, and she put the pieces together in her mind. It gazed up at her with wide, unseeing eyes, a shred of its terror lingering and pressing down on her shoulders painfully.

Damian seemed like he tried not to look, watching the two werewolves fight off Marcus, ready to join in if needed; but she had a feeling they were mostly toying with him, trying to inflict as much damage as possible without killing him too soon. How powerful was the pair, if they could overpower an Alpha?

He's my brother, Sam whispered. Val turned, staring at the red fur that was so similar to hers.

I'm sorry. She didn't know what else to say; just knew they had to go before Marcus's reinforcements arrived. They had probably heard them by now and she doubted the pack knew about what he had been about to do for him to call them right away.

We have to go, she muttered, hating herself. Sam nodded, eyes glued to her brother's corpse. His body would grow cold and his flesh and bone would slowly crumble to dust, as any shifter's body did after their death to protect themselves against humans. Zack had explained that once, now she wished she didn't know.

Henry tried to rise with a snarl, eyes simmering with hatred and pure, uncontained violence. His mate pulled him back, tears streaming down her face but eyes still locked on the wolf before her knees.

So when Zack nudged at their sides, they started running after him as fast as they could, exhausted and bloody. With a rushed bark, Damian and the others pulled back, racing after them.

Marcus didn't chase after them, legs shaking and snarling at the male checking on his Alpha's injuries.

Sam was running next to her with tears glistening in her eyes. She had lost her brother. And she had just killed the one responsible.

Her wolf didn't care, more eager to go back and continue to rip at his body rather than to mourn him — and worried, for the red wolf by their side. Another side, the human one, was in shock. No matter how much he deserved it, she had just killed someone. Enjoyed it.

She swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat.

They had more important things to worry about.

And — Daphne — she had to contact Daphne somehow.

Just then she spotted her jumping up from her crouching position in the distance, their friends mirroring the action.

What are you doing here? she asked through an open link when they reached them.

We'll talk later, Zack panted, crouching down to allow Daphne to climb over his back. She leaned in and held on to his fur tightly as he lurched forward.

The rest nodded, running after them.

Val glanced at Daphne as they ran, scrutinizing her face.

They came back to the gym a few minutes after you left, she finally mumbled. Zack told me what happened while you were fighting and they insisted on coming with us.

What about them? She nodded to the two wolves running at the back, with the unusual eyes.

Friends, she breathed, brows creasing in sorrow. For the one left behind.

They managed to get out of the territory without an incident, mainly thanks to Daphne's magic; but she warned the spell wouldn't last long.

The night seemed endless; their legs were starting to give up on them. Her wolf had taken over the lead a while ago and Val had let her, hoping her instincts would get them going for a little while longer.

The wounds on her leg and belly were throbbing, making her wince with every step, but the blood had stopped once the healing fired up.

We'll stop here, panted one of the wolves at the back — David. We won't be able to go much further.

Zack nodded from her side, coming to a stop.

Val flopped on the ground, lungs burning.

Is anyone going to explain what's happening here? she asked through her breathing. She didn't shift back, her wolf wouldn't let her yet anyway.

The strange wolves shifted into their human form and dropped to one knee in front of her. Val jumped, taken aback.

She glanced at Daphne, who took a sharp breath.

"I'm David," the first one said, a muscle flexing on his arm as he spoke. Grey eyes were pinned on the ground under his feet. "This is Mark." A nod to his left. Light brown, tousled hair did nothing to hide the green eyes that flitted from the ground to her constantly. As if afraid to look at her, but unable to stop himself from doing so.

Val didn't move, brows furrowing. Her wolf tilted her head in contemplation, sniffing the air.

"We were eager to meet you again," Mark said.

Do I know you? And for God's sake, can you stand up or something? This is weird. She glanced at Sam, who had shifted and was sobbing into Alex's chest. Their friends had made a protective circle around her, looking between the two. She itched to go, too, eager to help console her in any way she could.

David and Mark rose slowly, eyes hesitantly locking with hers. They were tall, with broad shoulders and hard muscle everywhere. Small scars traversed along their arms, their chests; long healed but still there. She had noticed a few long ones spanning David's back; they were healed but looked recent.

"Can you shift?" asked David.

She shook her head. I don't think she'll let me yet. She sat back on her legs, wincing at the flex of muscles; at the pull of her wounds. Her wolf rumbled confirmingly in her head.

None of them was unscathed, at least the ones that fought at that clearing; claws and bite marks clotting and healing over. Mercifully, they weren't deep. She looked at Sam again.

Val sat back as they explained, jaw dropping and eyes whipping at each of them in ridicule. Her focus sharpened at their grim looks — they were serious.

The first thing they said was they were immortal. Two of the first werewolves to ever walk this earth. And it was probably the best way to ease her into it.

They had an Alpha before, Serene, the first-ever werewolf and the strongest of them all. They gave an oath to her, forged with their blood and bonded with their souls.

They had followed her, learned about what they were together; what they could do. Their small pack had managed to keep hidden from the humans, surviving through hunger and cold; observing how the wolves worked together in the forest. Constantly adapting, never truly feeling at home.

Later, the Moon-Goddess gifted them with mates. A way to ensure their survival, Serene had said amusedly, but their Goddess was merciful, and she wanted them to be happy.

Serene was the first to find her mate. Beyond happy in their small circle, she talked about finding a steady place for them to stay in the forest — a place to call home.

Something panged in Val's chest. She yearned for a place to call her home. And just when she thought she'd found it, she had lost it all over again. An understanding passed over her about what it must have meant for them.

It worked, at first. They were happy there, and their bond kept growing and growing. They laughed when they explained how surprised they had been when Serene first spoke into their minds; another gift, one that greatly helped them synchronize their movements when hunting for prey.

They didn't realize that not everyone was happy about how things were. Or more accurately, everyone's position in the pack.

Elijah, Serene's mate, got jealous of her power; greedy for her title. Being the Alpha male didn't mean much to him when he wasn't the one giving the orders, which, apparently, Serene rarely did.

He sought help from witches, bargained with them; and when he returned from his run he wasn't alone. Not many of them survived that day, and Serene had given up the fight when the few remaining dropped to their knees with knives against their throats. He had killed her right in front of their eyes.

Their Goddess had been furious, and as Serene promised he'd regret it, She made sure her words fell true.

Time after time she was brought back. Each in a different body, a whole different person.

Elijah would grow weak as she grew stronger, the power he stole from her dying down and returning to its rightful owner. Unless he found and killed her again — repeating the cycle. They always found each other, the only thing that ever changed was the timing. How old she was when he killed her again.

Serene had been coming back, and David's job, along with the rest of their bunch, was to find her. They spent years trying to protect her, sometimes unable to get to her before Elijah did. They said they felt it every single time she died, just as they felt each other's deaths.

Bonded for eternity.

She tried to imagine how that felt. How close they must have been after all those years.

But many died in each attempt to save her, and while they had been immortal, their Goddess wouldn't make the same mistake. Elijah was still alive because of that.

So when they found their mates — their human mates — their sons and daughters inherited their power, their immortality. One last gift she gave.

Their mates died, and their grandchildren were born with less power every generation until She was satisfied that what happened before could never happen again. Alphas rose everywhere with a sliver more power than the rest — to lead. There had to be an order.

"We were too late the last time," David said bitterly, "but this time will be different."

What you're saying is I'm Serene. A dead — sort of — werewolf. They nodded.

"And our Alpha," Mark added — naturally.

She threw her head back and laughed, an awkward mix of barking and panting coming out from somewhere deep in her throat. Her wolf wasn't amused.

You're kidding, right? Serene? Alpha? My eyes are yellow, I'm not the one you're looking for. None of them laughed. She narrowed her eyes, prodding them, but they didn't even flinch. Her friends gawked from the side, even Sam had stopped sobbing and now looked at her with wide, bloodshot eyes.

Her dreams came to mind. Different people each time. They had to be kidding.

Right?

"You'll slowly grow into your power," Mark said softly.

Val glanced at Daphne; at Zack. They were sitting down, eyes following her every move. Knowing.

You knew? she growled. She didn't care who listened. The way they looked at her infuriated her more than anything.

All this time they knew and said nothing!

You need to trust me, Daphne's voice repeated in her mind, twisting and growing deeper; mocking. All those times she'd asked and practically begged to find out the truth... I'll tell you everything, just not yet.

She felt stupid.

Her wolf snarled in her mind.

Lips pulling back, she revealed sharp canines. Did you know? she bit at her friends.

"No," croaked Damian, mouth gaping up at her from his sitting position by Sam's side.

"There were myths," Erik audibly swallowed, shorts hanging loosely over his waist. She didn't notice them shifting. "A shaman in our pack once talked about a black wolf, twice-born on a full moon and powerful beyond reach. A sort of prophecy had slowly built around it, passing from generation to generation. It's your birthday today..." It wasn't exactly a question.

Val nodded.

"It's Britney's birthday as well," Ian muttered. "Her parents had died when she was a child — attacked by rogues — and Marcus had taken care of her afterward. Everyone thought she would be the one."

"Everyone must have been very disappointed to see her plain, boring — blond — fur." Alex laughed tentatively, absentmindedly twirling the ring around her finger.

Val wanted to smile with them but couldn't. She could barely even breathe through the lump in her throat. What's the prophecy, she asked instead, trying to keep her voice even.

What was she supposed to make out of all that? She was Serene reborn, and a big bad Alpha was coming after her. She was powerful, which didn't sit well with her, not with a wolf that was more feral than tame, and an old dude with a spiky long hat had stood over a cauldron one day and hissed a story to the curious children at his feet.

Or whatever.

"I don't remember..." Ian rubbed a hand at the back of his head, looking to the others. They shook their heads.

"You'll find out when we get to New Orleans," Daphne said. Val made to snarl but she quickly brought her hands up. "I don't remember it exactly either but he'll tell you. I swear."

They had lived in New Orleans before. Actually, it was the longest they had stuck to a place before moving in the pack. Daphne's parents had taken them in, and she had a friend there... Alis. It occurred to her then, that it'd been a while since they last spoke.

What about my parents? she asked.

She hesitated, an emotion flashing in her eyes. "Their names were Chris White and Eve Bennett."

Are they...

"They're dead," Zack mumbled, throwing her a sad look. Daphne pursed her lips. "They tried to protect you."

Val made an irritable sound in her throat. Everyone tried to protect her. Everyone died doing so.

Still, she had had a small hope that maybe — just maybe — they were some powerful couple — or something of the sort — forced to spend their lives hiding to protect her. That they were still alive.

She shook her head. This wasn't a movie.

Looking around, her eyes raked over their faces. She didn't want anyone else to get hurt because of her.

With a dejected look, Val rose on her legs and started walking into the shadows between the trees. Not far from their camp for the night, just wanting some space to think.

Daphne had made a move to walk after her when she hissed, leg almost giving up from under her, but Zack held her back. The last thing she saw was the open backpack in her hands, something small catching the light of the full moon.

She collapsed to her side at a small spot where the trees were split apart wider than the ones around their camp, the night sky yawning vastly above trees that reached upward with slithering branches.

Her wolf purred in her head, comfortingly, and she was surprised by how normal it all suddenly felt. She had been afraid and dreaded the day of her shift, scared that her wolf might take over and possibly murder someone — scared of the pain.

And that was only if she'd make it alive.

Goddess, there was so much pain.

She looked up at the full moon still high in the sky. The pitch-black around it had lightened from when they started running, morning was only a few hours ahead.

Why did you do this to me? she wanted to scream. Why me?

Knowing she was real, it was easier to have someone to put the blame on.

But she was at the last dregs of her strength, and even the simple move of raising her head seemed far away at that moment.

She listened to nothing else than her slow breathing. No animals were around, maybe spooked by them, and no sound came from over the camp. She sighed, content, and tried to lose herself in the desolation of the forest; the feeling of the grass crushed under her weight.

A small sound caught her attention; she jerked her head slightly. Damian approached her cautiously, gently, a long shirt clenched tightly in his grip and a backpack slung over his back.

"Hey," he whispered, stopping in front of her.

Val rested her head back down on the grass. He took that as his queue to sit.

Opening the pack, he took out a bottle of disinfectant, along with a few gauzes. His wounds had mostly healed over already. Her nose caught on the strong scent in the bottle and she sniffled, a sneeze building, and dying down just as fast.

She hated when that happened.

Damian laughed softly, mumbling what Zack had said about her senses still being sensitive.

Holding some cloth and opening the bottle, he looked at her for permission.

She blew out a breath as an answer.

Pouring the liquid on the cloth, he gently tapped at the scratches on her belly. She inhaled sharply.

"Sorry," he said apologetically.

The wounds must have been shallow, because after he was finished cleaning them, he didn't use the gauze, only applied some ointment.

"This might hurt more," he warned her, the cloth hovering over the bite at her leg.

She hadn't inspected the wound, too preoccupied with learning she was the resurrected version of a powerful, immortal werewolf. Would that even apply to her?

She yelped and jerked her leg away when he brought the cloth down, glaring up at him.

"I warned you." His mouth twitched at the sides.

Val made a groaning sound when he chuckled. He wrapped the wound down with gauze when he was finished, all the while stealing glances at her face — or whatever he could make through all the fur.

Once he put everything else back in the pack he held up the shirt questioningly. She shook her head.

With a sigh, he laid down beside her.

"We'll figure it out," he whispered. And she wanted to believe him. So, so badly.

With the whistle of a small breeze in her ear, she closed her eyes, pulled her legs into her chest, and drifted away, vaguely sensing Damian moving his body closer.

A feather of a touch.