Val rubbed a hand over her face, groaning as she turned on the thin mattress.

His name was Evan.

David's son.

Evan...

He'd tried to reach for her, and she had pulled back. She remembered how her heart had been close to bursting, and how her head was spinning, panicking.

David pulled him back when he understood, eyes glazing over with whatever he was saying over the link. Something had pulled at her when he was being led away; her wolf howled in her head to follow. She thought she might try to shift, but after their fight with that female, she didn't seem as inclined to.

His grey eyes had stayed on her the whole time, blue and gold pulsing with the presence of his wolf.

The silence after had been deafening, broken the moment the remaining people started dropping on one knee one after the other. Men and women who'd laughed when she'd rushed that they got up; who'd doubtlessly sworn to follow and protect her with their lives.

Damian couldn't meet her eyes, or maybe it was her. Nevertheless, it had been a relief when Mark pulled her forward to meet everyone.

How did they find it so easy to just throw their lives away for her if it came to it?

When.

She was going to get them killed.

It wasn't worth it. She wasn't. And she found it hard to accept that she was to be their Alpha when it was clear that any one of them could do a better job than she ever could.

Once introductions were over, Lana showed her around. Apparently, that place was a lot bigger than she thought.

There were large rooms with beds for people to sleep in; a lot of them and arranged in long corridors. There was a large kitchen room, one that they used for planning, one that they'd turned into a sparring room, an infirmary of sorts, five large bathrooms, and a few storage rooms, too. The room they'd first entered had been turned into a lounge, with large sofas and cushions for everyone and a big TV that they'd bought but didn't use much. Every wall, floor, and ceiling was made of smooth, hard rock, and Moira had assured them of the place's soundproofing.

Val was glad that she hadn't been the only one to stare, her friends walking along with similar expressions. Damian didn't seem half as interested.

She shook her head.

How could that place be so big? And how did no one ever notice?

Moira and Allen lived right above the shop. The apartment was big enough to suggest they had no problems with money, which had struck Val as odd when she first moved in. She thought they could renovate the shop, make it bigger, but it made a lot more sense to her now why they always smiled and claimed it was enough.

When she and Daphne moved in they had given her the biggest room in the house. Moira had taken down a wall and connected two originally to make a gym, but she changed her mind when she bought her first treadmill and decided working out wasn't her 'thing'.

They offered the room to them, but they decided to stay with everyone else. It would help them adjust, and it would be 'safer'.

So there she was, in a room with five more beds other than her own, drifting into a very exhausted sleep...

*****

She was in that living room again. The same figures approached; that same man. But something was different; they were no longer a blur. This time she could see them clearly.

Dark hair fell over glowing eyes, and sharp claws were already out when the woman took her in her arms. She was warm, and an urge to bury her head in her shoulder came over her, to breathe in her scent, but her eyes were glued to the men.

There was something familiar in the way one of them moved — looked. He pulled back his lips in a snarl, and she recognized the small, black veins she'd seen before. They had completely covered the white this time, accentuating the red of his eyes.

Marcus.

She'd seen his eyes change like that when they fought.

Realization dawned on her the moment she turned her head to the woman — to her mother. She had a small smile on her face, one that held so much sadness and love that it was painful to look at. Red slowly bled into green; her stomach knotted.

She wanted to scream when she felt her pull away; but only watched numbly as the light brown wolf stood over its mate's body, growling with all the equal fury of the world.

It was everywhere.

Red.

Blood.

And then there were jaws closing in on her, teeth gleaming under the faint light. White and red.

There was pain — then nothing.

Val sprung up, a hand to her chest as her breaths came out in rapid gasps.

Alex and Sam were standing over her with wide eyes.

Alex held her by the shoulders. "You were having a nightmare, are you o—" She jumped when Val cried out in pain, jolting away from them and to the wall at her back.

She whimpered, all emotion flooding back at once. She brushed a hand to her collarbone and felt the wetness there. Sam cursed.

"Go grab Daphne," she rushed, eyes looking at the blood in worry and confusion.

For a moment, Val was back in that dream, watching, unable to move.

She pulled the shirt to peek inside but there was nothing there. No wound, not even a scratch; just that small scar she always had.

Daphne rushed into the room, white cloth in one hand and a small bottle in the other. She recognized the latter as the ointment Damian had used after cleaning her wounds.

"What happened?" Her voice was frantic, face twisted with worry as she took in the blood on the shirt.

"I'm not sure..." Val hesitated. "But I think it's okay now, there's no wound."

Daphne frowned. She brought the cloth over it and wiped away the blood. She squinted, cleaning the rest. Her face seemed to darken somehow when she finished, hands clenched.

Val didn't think she was going to elaborate so she didn't make a move to ask, which made it all the more surprising when she spoke.

"He's playing with you," she gritted out, eyes coming alight with a bright green she'd rarely gotten the chance to see.

"Who is?" asked Alex, if only for the sake of confirmation.

"Elijah." The hand around the cloth tightened, and some of the blood squeezed out of the fiber. Val winced, not knowing if it was because of the blood or of his name.

Daphne glanced at her, mouth pursed, and the way she was looking at her made something tighten in her stomach. It was similar to the look her mother gave her.

Marcus had killed them.

The room spun. There was no way Daphne knew, right?

No. She'd never let him anywhere near her if that were the case. But how did they miss it...

Before Val had the chance to ask anything, Daphne was up and leaving. "I'll make sure the shaman is ready tonight. We'll have to start making plans so it's better you know as much as you can." She paused, clenched her fists again. "It's time," she whispered.

Val nodded through clenched teeth. She was finally going to get her answers.

Sam brought her a new change of clothes, and after they'd kicked Ian and Erik out for her to change, she sat back on the bed, utterly drained against the cold stone. They hadn't heard much about what happened, but they relaxed a little once Val explained. Still on edge, but better than nothing.

They said Damian was in the sparring room.

"Wanna talk about it?" Alex said softly from her side, legs crossed similarly to her own.

"Talk about what?" She tried to feign nonchalance but, if her face hadn't shown it, the unsteadiness of her voice had probably done the trick. "Sorry," she breathed. Sam rubbed a hand over her calf reassuringly.

How was it that she was looking at her with such understanding and waiting to hear about her problems after all that happened? Sam had cried her eyes out before they reached this place. There was still a hollowness in her eyes that Val was terrified would never go away, and still — they were asking about how she was feeling?

Her face twisted in sadness when she looked at her. Her brother had died trying to protect them, all those people were willing to do the same, and for what? They'd lost so much already because of her but none regarded her with hatred, none blamed her. Why?

She didn't deserve to wallow and complain when the people around her had sacrificed — and were willing to sacrifice — even more. How could she be so weak? How would she ever lead them the way they wanted her to?

She bit her lip, drawing blood, and Sam must have read the emotion in her eyes because her expression changed the next second, and she was scowling at her through unshed tears.

"Don't." She shook her head. "He chose to die protecting us, like everyone here is willing to." Her lips wobbled when she drew her next breath, a tear slipped from her eyes. "None of this is your fault. I'll happily die protecting any one of you, and that's my choice, you can't change it. Nor can you blame yourself for it. These people have been following you for too many years to count, and they continue to do so because they see something every time that makes them want to fight for you." Her brows furrowed in pain. "You tried to protect us — him too. Every time something happened you were there for us, whether that be my father or Marcus. And I, for one, can see what they see. Even if you don't."

Her cheeks stung. Alex wiped the tears away with her hands, giving her a pained smile.

"We're here for you. From even the most surprising love triangle," —a ludicrous look— "to a creepy, obsessive Alpha. We don't abandon the people we love, Val." The last sentence seemed a little forced, in a pained kind of way. A small laugh vibrated through Val's chest, even as her memory brought up a similar moment with Damian. Her wolf rumbled in her mind, pacing and stomping on whatever imaginary nerve she had left.

She tried not to think about him, but there was still a faint taste of blood in her mouth from when she bit her lip, and her mind replayed their time in the forest.

She'd never seen him lose control before. No matter the case, no matter the fact that he wasn't a vampire for as long as Ian or Alex were, he always seemed very...put-together.

Of course, she'd never kissed him before.

"Now, are you going to talk to us about him, or are we to just stare at your awkward asses whenever you two see each other?" Sam raised a brow, face still redder than usual.

She told them about what happened in the forest — leaving out the part about the scars on his back, it felt too personal — and they surprisingly didn't tease her much about the kiss. Sam looked at her with sympathy and she realized it was a fear she had to deal with as well; the day a potential mate might come in and tear whatever it was that she and Ian had built with each other apart. Ryan wasn't enough, that was for sure, and she made a mental note to take the time to deal with him properly next time.

"Frankly, I'm surprised it took you so long," Alex chuckled.

Val scrunched up her nose. "It wasn't that obvious."

Sam laughed. "To you, it wasn't."

"Oh?" she snorted. "And you're one to talk?"

"She got you there." Alex nodded, eyes gleaming with humor.

"Please." Sam made a shooing motion with her hand. "Totally different situations."

Val wanted to ask 'how so?', but leaning back on the wall, watching her friends bickering like that, it all felt so... normal. Something warmed in her chest at their teasing smiles.

"And what about you and Erik, huh?" Sam raised a brow.

Alex waved her off with a disinterested look. "We're probably the only ones in this group to keep it platonic. Seriously, people, it's not that hard."

"I'm sure it's just as platonic as Val's was with Damian," Sam laughed, and Alex threw the pillow at her face. She caught it with a snort, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Val chuckled and Alex threw the full force of her glare on her. "What are you laughing at?" She squinted menacingly. "We were talking about you, don't think you're off the hook."

Val just raised her hands in surrender and threw another conspiratorial look at Sam. She giggled showily but Alex didn't react further. Other than flipping them off, that is.

"Are you going to talk to him?" she asked after a while, twirling the ring around her finger.

"Which one?" Val winced. "How is it that I got myself in a situation like this anyway?"

Alex gave her a sympathetic look. "I haven't experienced it so I don't understand much about it, or about how the bond feels, but you'll need to talk to both. They need to know where you stand with them." She sighed. "Damian probably thinks he already knows."

Val leaned back her head and released a long breath. "What am I supposed to say? I just met Evan, and there's this urge to... to—"

"Jump his bones?" Sam filled in, helpful as ever.

She breathed out a laugh. "And Damian... This is all new to me, but I don't know if I can just pretend like it never happened. I don't think I want to."

"Then don't," Erik said from the threshold, making her jump. Alex cursed.

"How much did you hear?" she asked.

"Not much." He shrugged. "These walls are pretty hard to hear through." He knocked on the rock with a small smile. "Daphne said they're ready at front."

Val nodded and put on her shoes, following the others down the long corridor. Erik threw his arm around her shoulders. Think about what you want before talking to them, he said through the link, but please don't pretend like it never happened. It'll only hurt you both.

Daphne was waiting in the lounge room along with Zack and the rest of their group. David and Mark were there, too, and she recognized Evan's scent long before she entered. They didn't use the car this time; the walk wasn't long and they were crossing the forest in no time. It took three minutes for the smell of fire to register, and seven more to get there.

A few were already sitting, and it seemed like more were joining. Daphne said they would be there for her, but they couldn't act on her behalf — whatever that meant.

"Derek?" Val gaped when they reached them. "You're the witch?"

"Shaman," he corrected with a laugh.

"But you were..." He raised his brows. Come to think of it, he never smelled like a wolf, and he didn't quite smell like Daphne, either. "A shaman."

He nodded, grinning. "We are healers, and can even communicate with spirits from time to time. Nothing too weird."

"So that's why you were the pack doctor..." He hummed in affirmation. She noticed a small plate set onto a rock behind him. "What, no cauldrons? No pointy hats?"

"I'll make sure to fit your standards next time." He rolled his eyes teasingly and walked over to the plate. People were giving her reassuring looks as she followed; Daphne and Zack flanked her sides.

He started by throwing a few patches of herbs and sticks inside. Some purple petals, a fistful of red dust, and, weirdly, some dirt from the ground. "We're not going to sacrifice a goat or anything, are we? I like goats."

His brows raised. "I thought you were a wolf." She laughed awkwardly, a funny feeling setting in her gut. "We're healers, that's not our thing," he added, amused, and very contradictingly pulled out a small knife from his pocket. He sliced his palm, barely winced, and motioned for hers.

She gave him her hand, biting back a hiss as he sliced down the middle, and let him position it where he wanted. Daphne lit a match and dropped it in, making the plate explode with flames. Derek held on to her when she made a move to step back, curling her hand into a fist. "Before it heals," he said and turned it to face the crackling fire.

She inhaled sharply as he pushed the hand lower, but the fire didn't burn. Actually, it felt nice. She wiggled her fingers a little, feeling the heat on her skin, and she let out a sound of wonder. Daphne and Zack smiled from her side.

Drops of blood fell on the scorching plate, hissing and evaporating; black smoke rose as the fire died down, and when Val looked up, Derek's eyes had turned completely black. It reminded her of Marcus, and a sliver of hot fury cut into her thoughts once more. She would get her answers.

Derek was smiling broadly at her, unmoving. It was devoid of emotion, like it had been carved onto him, like a doll. The voice that came out of his mouth wasn't his; it was far deeper, and it sent shivers down her spine. "Why do you call me, child?" It crooned, and she thought she heard laughter coming from around them.

She froze. The smoke got thicker, enveloping her and everyone around her. No one spoke.

"Hmmm?" He — it, that wasn't Derek anymore — tilted its head, observing her the same way a hunter would its prey.

"I want to learn about the prophecy," she whispered, finally finding her voice; hating how it faltered.

"Oh?" it said with no small amount of dangerous delight. "Which one? There are many."

She could have sworn hands came out of the black mist and brushed their pointy fingers over her body. "I only know of one about me." She pushed back the urge to look around, swat the hands away. Her wolf rumbled in her mind.

"Interesting, that one," it cackled, its depthless, dark eyes boring into her. "No one likes it once they hear it, though. I wonder why." Its shriek laughter dug like needles into her ears.

"I want to know." Val planted her feet firmly on the ground and raised her chin, looking at it with all the confidence she could muster.

"So much alike you are," it mused, "yes, so much alike. I'd like to see your reaction as well."

She frowned. "Alike to whom?"

A click of the tongue. "The woman in your dreams, of course." Her heart skipped a beat. Her mother? "Scared, but determined; tenacious. I wonder if the answers you seek will wound you as deeply as they did her."

The mist rippled, its shadows gathered over the plate in a twisting ball of darkness. A furry paw sprung out, then another. It stayed suspended in air, its powerful legs pushing out another cloud of mist from the plate when they landed. The head formed slowly, teeth stretching more than they had to before curling in on themselves and settling on the body. A black wolf.

"What am I seeing?" she asked, eyes darting behind her, finally starting to understand what she'd been told earlier. She scowled when Daphne gave the smallest of nods, the fire burning in her eyes the only hint of how frustrated she actually was.

"Don't you recognize it?" It leered, shadow hands brushing her arms; legs. She could feel the temperature dropping. "Another hint, then?" it hissed, its breath fanning her neck. Her wolf rumbled in her mind, lips curling into a snarl identical to its twin shadow. The blood that had sizzled and evaporated gathered in droplets and splattered on its black fur, around its mouth.

She brought a hand to her throat, where the necklace had been. She'd seen this before, on her first day of school. Those two paintings...

The dean had said a friend had made them. One of the crystals was missing and her—

The hand at her throat curled. They had pulled her in.

Is this what she saw? Her?

Her mother had painted her.

"Now you get it..." It whispered, its breath freezing cold against her ear.

"What is the prophecy?" Val gritted out, a chorus of laughter echoing around her.

"Listen close, child, thy twisted fate."

The laughter silenced, and the forest did, too, as though afraid to anger it. When it spoke, there was a heaviness to the words, like they'd been spoken too many times, old beyond comprehension.

On a day of great loss

A wolf shall rise,

It shall bring forth hope

Or result in our demise.

It can hold like a shield

Or hack down like a sword,

But beware of its hands

Shall they clamp around your throat.

Were it goes the darkness follows

It can't tell of friend from foe,

But beware of its mighty claws

Shall they lunge to slit your throat.

As the darkness takes all

As the wolf forsakes the soul,

Shall the human find its strength

Shall it come to save us all.

And those crazy enough to find

Or have the resolve to fight,

They shall look of all one date

Of October 28th.

The words were spoken out loud and in her mind, bellowed and whispered and hissed. There was no normal way to describe it. They brought forward images in her mind that she didn't know how to make sense of. A fire. A lake. A song.

The mist rushed back into Derek through his eyes; long tendrils of darkness whispered wicked things before the last of it was gone.

He blinked, and his eyes were back to normal.

"A little warning would have been great," she sighed, replaying everything in her mind.

"It wouldn't have made that big of a difference, trust me." He smiled sadly, taking the plate away and nodding for her to sit. Thankfully, no one tried to talk to her, mercifully giving her some time to pull herself together again.

Evan watched her from a distance, eyes alight and scent helping as much as riling her up.

Damian watched with a clenched jaw, hands twitching at his sides.

She resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands, releasing a long sigh.

Goddess, she whispered in her mind, help me.