Instinctively, she took on a defensive stance, glancing at her friends' sleeping forms.

The wolf — a female — snapped its jaws, licking at her lips hungrily. It looked like she hadn't eaten in days, eyes glowing a brilliant blue; much like Mark and Davids'.

With a quick warning through the link, Val jumped forward, the shift taking a few seconds to complete fully. She was happy it even worked.

The female was tall, very close to her towering height; but she looked brittle, like a single breath could topple her over.

Focus... she thought, moving closer. The rogue circled her, sizing her up. But it didn't make a move to attack.

Val thought she might have been afraid in her current situation, instincts warning her to be careful, but when she lunged the impact wasn't weak. She took her down with enough force to keep them from rolling and pinned her down, legs pushing with everything they had.

She tried to go straight for the throat for an easy kill, but Val yanked her head backward and used the momentum to roll her body away, getting up with new fervor. Her wolf growled in her mind, and control slowly faded away—

No! she growled, pushing her back. The female took advantage of the short loss of the ground under her feet and tried to claw at her unprotected side. She barely managed to step back fast enough. Her wolf gave a loud rumble but didn't make a move to take over again, more cautious of the threat in front of them.

Had the others not heard them by now? There was no way they were still sleeping, right?

Val brought her claws down on the female's face, harsh parallel lines now leaking blood into her eyes; it only seemed to have made her angrier. She tried to remember how she felt the last time she fought with one of them; the last time she killed one. A strange calm came over her; her senses settled, sharp as ever, and her eyes bore into the rogues'.

The wolf still had some strength in it, but its thinking had lost all logic; and without food, she doubted she'd last very long. It must have taken its toll on the body, and as she tried — and failed — to lunge at her each time, Val realized that she'd started toying with her somewhere along their fight. Jumping away from claws and swatting her head away when she tried to take a bite out of her.

She didn't know if that was her wolf affecting her actions, or if it was just her, but it scared the hell out of her. When the wolf tried to lunge again, mouth open and desperate for a kill, Val knocked her over with her body and used her weight to pin her down.

She saw the fear in the female's eyes when she neared her neck; slightly widening, thrashing pointlessly with its crooked claws. She locked her jaws around her throat and clamped down, watching as the thrashing stopped and the light slowly left her blue eyes, dimming them down to a light brown.

There was pleasure. Adrenaline still coursed through her body; and delight — for their win. The kill.

She felt sick.

That was the second time she'd killed someone, both in the span of a day. She wasn't stupid enough to assume the female would have just trotted away if she'd given her the chance to, but it still felt... wrong. It was self-defense and yet... and yet—

Motion caught her attention from her left. David was looking at her in a proud manner, the others lurking just behind him. She didn't want to feel anything but disgust at that moment, but it withered so quickly from her mind that she had to take a step back to catch herself.

She had just killed another wolf — another person! — and she was feeling proud?

Her wolf rumbled in her mind, licking her lips with feral satisfaction and eager for more.

Val glanced back at the dead wolf. Its eyes were still open, still unnervingly on her.

What was wrong with her?

How long have you been standing there? she asked, voice cold.

"A while," David said, looking a little apologetic for whatever that was worth.

I thought you were here to protect me, she bit out. Another glance at the wolf.

"You don't need that kind of protection," Mark said from his side, eyes softening in understanding. "And you wouldn't have allowed it either in that state."

Her eyes were frantic, flickering from their group to the female at her feet. Blood had started to pool around her, but the skin was breaking apart already, fur dropping from the corpse and disappearing in a cloud of dust. The sun had barely gone out, casting a yellow shade over the body.

The process must work faster with a sickly wolf, she realized, and swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise in her throat once more. What was wrong with her?

Her breathing hitched, and she didn't look back when she turned and ran as fast as she could. It seemed like there wasn't enough oxygen around her, enough air cleared of the coppery tang of blood.

All she wanted was some peace and quiet. For the taste of blood to leave her mouth.

She followed the smell of water; its faint, humid scent pushing her forward.

She didn't think she'd ran for long when she finally found it and jumped in, the dark liquid barely reaching her chest. The first thing she did was sink her head in, her body quickly following as she tried to wash away the blood as best as she could.

She could still taste it.

Damian watched her from beside a tree, chest still heaving from the run.

Alone? she acknowledged.

He nodded. "The others wanted to follow but Zack held them back."

Why not you too?

"I'm... not sure," he sighed truthfully. "But I don't think the idea of staying back appealed to them either."

Val dragged herself out of the water and shook her fur out, drenching Damian, who tried to take cover behind the tree.

"Uncalled for!" he exclaimed, poking his head around when she was done.

Why are you here, Damian?

He sighed, walked around the tree, and came to stand in front of her. With a quick glance at her body, he brushed off his shirt and held it out to her. "It should be long enough," he murmured.

The previous one had torn when she shifted. Still, she stared with wide eyes when she accepted it and looked back again pointedly.

"Right," he chuckled, turning around.

Sliding into the warm, black clothing — now half wet thanks to her — she turned around and asked again, softer, "What are you doing here?"

Damian looked back cautiously first before turning and taking a seat against a tree. He scooted over to give her room, back resting against its trunk. Her hair wasn't as damp as she'd expected it to be, though she suspected most of the water was currently drying off of Damian.

His arm was surprisingly warm against hers, warmer than any of the other vampires she knew of. Alex. Ian.

Because he was still alive, a small voice whispered in her mind. Still a vampire, always a vampire.

Her eyes spotted a droplet of water drop from a curl, a faint orange light catching and distorting like a mirror, then trailing over his chest, his abdomen. She'd seen him without a shirt before, but it was scarcely enough that she always forgot how fit he actually looked, body lean with muscle.

She tore her eyes away from any incriminating places, stilling at the small scar on his back. For all the times she'd seen him without a shirt, she didn't think he'd ever shown her his back. Whilst fighting, or willingly.

She dragged a finger over it and felt him shudder. He leaned forward.

Val looked up at him, heart racing. The one she'd seen was small, just over his right shoulder blade. There were a few more like that, small and long healed, but some were longer and looked like they'd been deeper, the skin raised higher than the rest. She trailed her finger down to one stopping right over the hem of his black sweats. Damian caught her hand before she could go on, setting it at their sides as he fell back against the tree with a shaky breath.

"Did they happen the day you changed?" she whispered. He shook his head.

"When..." Something caught in his throat. He swallowed. "When I was fifteen my mother died of cancer." There was a long pause. She thought he might not want to continue, but he kept going.

"My dad hadn't taken it very well. He hadn't inherited an active wolf gene from his parents, but he could feel the mate bond just like any other werewolf could. And she felt it, too, even as a human." A small smile. "When she passed, he lost it. He denied it at first, leaving for days at a time until a pack member carried him back from her grave, clothes tattered and breath reeking of alcohol." His fingers pulled at the blades of grass between their legs, cutting them out. She took his hand in hers and squeezed once reassuringly. He squeezed back.

"There was this one time when he was particularly unhappy about being brought back. He'd paced around the house, ranting about her. I tried to help, calm him down, and what I got in return was two beer bottles thrown over my head." A muscle feathered in his jaw; her heart skipped a beat. "Some of the shards had stuck on my back when they crashed on the wall behind me, and I'd probably be fine if he hadn't thrown me on top of the rest."

He gave a humorless chuckle. "He had been drunk then, didn't really know what he was doing... After that, he got his shit together. He tried to apologize, and quit drinking."

Val didn't know much about his relationship with his father up 'till then, she only knew Damian didn't get along with him. Learning about that now...

Sarcastic, arrogant Damian was looking at her with something akin to devastation in his eyes, the emotions so strong she was sure they could have brought her to her knees if she wasn't already sitting.

They had all suffered. Whether at that party or in a complete other situation, they had all glimpsed at something no person their age should. And they bore the scars to prove it.

He nodded to the small scar on her collarbone. "How did that happen?"

She glanced down at it, pressed her fingers over it. "I think it's a birthmark. I've had it for as long as I can remember." She shrugged nonchalantly.

They stayed that way for a while, the sun having completely come out and the forest buzzing with morning activity. She'd rested her head on Damian's shoulder at some point, both lost in their thoughts, and he leaned his on top of it.

"I know how it feels the first time," he croaked. "You resent yourself for it, and you are proud that you were able to contribute to your loved ones' protection. And then you loathe yourself even more." He looked down at her, foreheads almost touching. "That was a rogue, Val. And she would have killed any and all of us if she got the chance to. Please don't hate yourself for wanting to protect us. Or her."

Her wolf.

Val wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. She had lashed out, but with time...maybe she could learn to control herself. Maybe she'd been tired of looking at the world and not being able to experience it.

Damian was still looking at her, still waiting for an answer, but she couldn't give him one. Not now, not when she could still taste the blood in her mouth.

His gaze dropped to her lips and she drew a sharp breath. She swallowed, head tilting slightly, following his movements. She felt his nose brush her own, lips hovering only inches from hers; her stomach knotted. When he made a move to close the distance Val found herself jolting away, catching herself with a hand before she fell back.

They were both breathing heavily, watching each other through lids lowered with want. She got up the moment he made a move toward her, wolf unexpectedly taking an interest in the situation.

"Why is your first instinct always to run?" he demanded, using the tree to get up. He took a step forward as she took a step back, cursing when she almost tripped over her own legs.

"It's not."

"Yes, it is." Another step. She stood in place, hands clenched at her sides, chin raised. "You ran away after the attack at that lake; you ran away after you shifted, and you're running away now."

"I was losing control then!" she reasoned, hands splaying. "She was trying to take over, what was I supposed to do?"

"What was she gonna do, bite? Let her. I heal fast." Another step.

She huffed in exasperation. "This is crazy! You know I wouldn't let her hurt you. Any of you!"

"Then why are you running now?" They were face to face, breaths still coming out erratic, softly fanning their faces.

"I'm not," she bit out.

She glanced behind her. If she took even a single step more backward, she'd fall straight back into the water again.

"What are you afraid of?" he pressed.

"Nothing!" She pushed him away a little too harshly and he tripped, grabbing hold of her hand to stay upright but ending up taking her down with him. She glared at him, mind blanking at their closeness and the feel of his muscles flexing as he locked his arms around her waist.

Their eyes changed; red and yellow bleeding and blending in a chaotic sequence. She didn't know if it was anger, irritation, or—

"Prove it," he whispered, gaze flickering again.

She didn't know who made the first move. All she knew was the feeling of his soft lips on hers, the warmness of his body pulling her in, and the scent that always made the animal in her settle. Like the forest — freedom.

He brought a hand to her jaw, tilting her head to give him more access and taking the chance to slide his tongue in. She moaned when he dragged it over the roof of her mouth, sending delicious shivers all over her body.

He rolled her to her back when Val tangled her fingers through his hair and pulled slightly at the curls, making him groan. As the kiss deepened, he rubbed up and down her waist with his hand while she dragged her fingers over the scars on his back, feeling where the skin had healed over and silently promising to herself that they were the last. She'd protect them; somehow, she'd make sure none of them ever got hurt again.

He bit at her lower lip, pulling it back with him. She gasped, both from the need for oxygen and from the fact that he'd broken the skin. He flicked his tongue out and over the drop of blood on his lips. His eyes darkened, and she thought the red grew a little brighter, took over a little more.

Damian pulled back on his knees, panting as he looked down at her with hunger. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, feeling the skin on her lip tingle. It only took a few seconds for it to heal completely. "It's okay."

They lay there for a while longer, content in their comfortable silence, before they decided their friend's teasing would only get worse as time passed.

She passed the dead wolf's body — nothing more than a scattering pile of dust — and came to stand next to Daphne. She gave her a sad smile, which Val didn't return, more focused on the two immortal males watching her from the side.

She gave them a questioning look.

David shook his head with a small smile. "We just... hadn't really noticed before. You look a lot like her — Serene," he added, as an afterthought.

Val hummed, sitting down and pointedly ignoring the conspiratorial glances and teasing smirks the others threw at them. She tensed, willing herself to not let anything show on her face. She would not blush, she would not blush, she would not—

Tires screeched on asphalt just as David got up. "They're here."

Three cars were parked at the road just shy of the forest, their drivers leaning on the sides and bickering with each other.

The moment Val stepped into their line of vision, they dropped to one knee and all conversation seized.

"Can you people stop doing that?" She grimaced while Mark laughed, patting her shoulder.

"That's their way of showing their allegiance." He motioned for them to get up and the person on the far right grinned, a man about David and Mark's age with brown hair tied tightly behind his head. His hair wasn't that long, barely a few inches sticking out for the hairband to hold together, but what drew her in were his warm, honey-brown eyes. Even with all the muscle in his body, bordering on straight-up bulky, they had a way of making him look soft. The equivalent of a giant teddy bear.

"I'm Connor." He winked, a kind smile covering thin lips below a straight nose.

"Luke." The boy in the middle waved, blue eyes gleaming with excitement. He looked to be about her age, maybe a little older, body lean with muscle looking quite lanky next to Connor. A hand ruffled his light brown hair, making him grumble something in annoyance and swat it away.

The third person was a girl with vibrant red hair that flowed like liquid fire over her toned shoulders. She looked to be about her age, but there was something about her green eyes that made her think otherwise. She was lean, with hard muscle covering her body and a jawline that had had to be illegal. Full lips stretched into a grin. "I'm Lana."

They didn't waste any more time on the road, everyone loading the backpacks in the trunks and getting in the cars. Val, Damian, and Ian squeezed into the back after Erik and Alex had pulled Sam in with them. She sniffed, a weird scent making her wolf rise to attention. The redhair got into the passenger seat just as David laid back on the driver's and took a big breath in, releasing it in a long sigh.

"It's only been a few days, you weirdo," Lana chuckled as David looked around, seemingly searching for something. "The car's fine, took care of it myself." She puffed out her chest, and at that moment she sort of reminded her of Erik.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he grumbled and turned the key, the engine coming to life with a roar.

"You might want to get that checked though." She grimaced.

"Nah, that's just her way of saying hello." Lana rolled her eyes with a small smile as he went through the songs on the radio.

Ian offered her a jellybean from her right. She was crammed between the two, awkwardly moving every now and then to find a more comfortable spot. With a grin, she took out a couple and stuffed them in her mouth. "Thanks."

"How long have you had those?" Damian scowled, reaching for the pack. Ian pulled it away, pointing at the front seat. "She gave them to me."

Lana smiled apologetically. "Sorry, that's all I had here. But we'll make sure you get a good meal once we reach New Orleans."

"Prepare to empty your fridge with this one." He pointed a thumb at Val with a chuckle. "She's insatiable." He reached for the jellybeans a second time but Ian just pulled away again, holding them next to his side.

"Seems like Val's hungrier." He made a sad face, angling the bag just enough for her to stick her hand in for a few more. "You can just wait 'till we get there."

Damian lunged for it but he couldn't reach it with Val working as a barrier between them. Ian laughed, moving it away every time he was about to grab it. She was glad to see him smiling like that, throwing her a triumphant look when he got Damian to bump his head on Lana's seat, but judging from David's glare, she thought it better to get them to settle down.

She pushed Damian back and stuffed a red jellybean in his mouth.

"See? She cares about me!" he said while chewing it like a damn goat, just to irritate them. Val made a puking motion and sat back, an arm coming over her shoulder. She didn't turn, but she was sure he had a stupid smile on his face. She barely held her own back as his thumb made small circles over the skin at the back of her head, his scent washing over her, still clinging to the shirt he'd given her.

Lana had handed her some shorts to wear before they got in the car, and she was kind of disappointed when they found a spare shirt for him too.

*****

David parked right outside a small herb shop, the one Daphne's parents run. She hoped that maybe she'd get to see Alis there, too, stacking the jars impeccably as ever on the shelves.

She vaguely heard David saying something whilst closing the car door, the gears in her head turning faster as the same scent from before hit her stronger. She felt her heart speed up as they neared the entrance.

The shop looked ancient from the outside, squeaky clean glass surrounded by wood old enough to have been carved out before David was born, or so she was told. The display consisted of a small table with herbs and jars both on top and hovering over it by tiny strings — black wool.

The big, heavy 'OPEN' sign thwacked against the glass when David pushed in, holding the door for her.

She was crushed in a hug before she got the chance to make her second step. "Volana, sweetheart, it's been so long!" Moira exclaimed, pulling away to squint into her face and rub her hands over her shoulders. She ignored the name, just this once. "You got taller! And — oh! — you look like you haven't been eating well, do you want me to go fetch you something? I can be back in a flash—" A hand stopped her from ranting on, and there was a smile on Allen's lips when he pulled her in for a hug of his own, pulling her into his chest.

Moira was a tad shorter than her, not quite skinny, but curvy in all the right places. Daphne had gotten her dirty-blond hair from her, but her eyes had been a mix of both Moira's green eyes, and Allen's warm brown ones. Allen was still a tad taller than her, only by a few inches, but she'd lost the bet they'd made before she left, that when she got back she'd be the one looking down at him.

She chuckled at the thought, almost purring in his embrace. She liked their smell, but her nose still caught on something else. She had no idea where it was coming from and it drove her crazy.

When he pulled back, she caught a glimpse of the greying hair that had started to take over the brown. Daphne had said Moira was a witch, and therefore lucky enough to keep her youth for longer, but Allen was a human. He barely had any muscle on him, but he wasn't considered skinny, and the broad shoulders helped make him look bulkier than he actually was.

"We're really glad to have you back." He smiled, a hand cupping her cheek lovingly.

"I'm glad to be back," she sighed, content. Then she looked around. "Is Alis here?"

Moira shook her head. "I sent her out on an errand, but she knew you were coming so she'll probably be here anytime now."

They turned when they heard someone clear their throat.

"Ahh, yes. Guests!" She ushered them in. "They are waiting for you downstairs. We can do the introductions later."

"Downstairs...?" Val had lived with them for long enough to know there was no 'downstairs' in that shop. The place was barely large enough to hold a few people at a time as it was.

Allen pulled her with him, a hand over her shoulders as he led her to the far right corner. She thought he might go for the cash register at first, but he stopped right in front of the wall, the wooden mural of a wolf standing tall — proud — and staring at her. She looked at him questioningly.

Allen just smiled as he took her hand and held it up to its thrust-out chest. The wood rippled like water around her palm, taking her by surprise. It still felt solid, but it also felt like liquid, not as diluted as water would be, closer to oil, or maybe melted chocolate. She refused to drool in front of all those people. She steeled her spine.

The wolf brought its head under her palm in the same manner as a cat would, rubbing itself on her as if it wanted her to pet it. Then it folded in on itself, growing smaller and smaller until its head stood out at the side like a door handle. Allen gave her an encouraging nod. She turned it and glanced down at the stairs.

The next few moments passed by in a blur, that same scent hitting her like a sledgehammer and pulling her down the wooden steps.

A few people were standing at the center of the large room, but they barely registered as her eyes caught on a figure in the middle, closer to her than the rest.

Her wolf jolted in her mind.

A single word repeated in her head, but she didn't dare say it out loud. Damian's presence loomed behind her, pressing down on her shoulders, her chest. She couldn't breathe.

She wanted to turn around; look at him. She felt him coming to a stop next to her the same moment the male in front of her spoke. A whispered word, barely audible; suffocating.

"Mate."