I spent my days and nights captured in the same cycle that Roman demanded of me. When he was there, I was allowed to be somewhat free, as in no longer cuffed to the bed. When he was gone to deal with his and his surrounding packs, which was often and for long periods of time, I was left in that cuff.

The moon faded from that of the waning frown to an empty new moon, pulling me ever so much more closely to my future doom. I didn't feel any pain or sensations of impending horror, but I wasn't the type to doubt the dangers of the lycanthrope or their Goddesses. So I spent every chance I had on trying to pull myself out of my current captivity until finally I found success.

The cuff had worn through the wood of the bedpost enough so that with the proper force in my kick, it finally gave with a loud crack. I gasped in both pain and delight, and then hesitated as though Roman would find me out that very moment. When neither he nor any others showed up to stop me, I continued to work through the damage I'd done until my hand was free.

I looked at my wrist, still contained by the cuff. From what I could discern, I healed fairly quickly, but I wasn't truly allowing myself the time to heal. Instead, my wrist was raw and wet from blood every day as evidence of my attempts to escape. Roman was never pleased, but otherwise did nothing to prevent my efforts. And now he would pay for it.

Free from my containment, I immediately approached the bedroom window. I lifted it with ease, glancing at the ground quite far below before planning my escape. I turned and clasped the window frame before crawling through the opening with reckless abandon. I clung to every protrusion and dug my feet into any crevice until I finally was left with the option to complete the drop in a fall. I landed on my feet roughly, glancing around wildly.

I wasted no time in escaping into the surrounding forest. The sun was bright in the sky, but it did nothing to ease the cold of the winter around me. The floor of the forest was bare and hardened from the cold, waiting for the snow that would no doubt be arriving soon, and the chill sent shivers over my skin despite the adrenaline pulsing through me. However, I was free and because of that I found delight in everything.

I arrived on the outskirts of the village, following my memory to where the well hidden door waited for me. When I found it, I paused a moment, glancing in the direction Cynthia had pointed that would lead to my village. I hesitated only for a few seconds before my hand found its way to the mark on my neck. My home was no longer an option at this time.

I reached for the hidden door and climbed down into the pathway that would lead me into the abandoned temple. The further I got into the building, the angrier I became. I had been cheated. I was sent on a suicide mission under pretenses of Goddesses and paths, promises of doom, and only found my own in the process. I had many questions for this mysterious Cynthia.

I found the main alter room of the temple, where I had first met her, but she wasn't present. I began wandering through the temple, pulling on doors that held paths to places unknown. I considered calling for her, but didn't want to somehow be heard outside of the temple by any passing shifters.

Just when I thought about giving up on this particular quest, I found a passage into a particularly dark and mysterious room. The only light that illuminated the area was seemingly from a mesmerizing body of water in the center. At the edge of the water, Cynthia was seated on her knees, her hands clasped in her lap and her eyes closed.

I hesitated, something about the feel of the room whispering to that power within me. It was as though I could suddenly feel that water running over my skin alluringly and behind it was a call, like the song of a siren.

"Won't you join me, Mila?" Cynthia asked quietly, echoing her initial greeting to me not too long ago. I knew I had been searching for her in anger, but now that I had found her, it was as though the anger had dissipated into nothing. It was peculiar.

I stepped towards her cautiously and lowered onto my knees as she was. Then I turned my eyes from her to the water curiously. As I looked into it, I thought I could see the sky on the surface, but instead of the bright blue I had just seen before entering the temple, it was dark and glittering with stars. I gasped and looked up sharply only to see the dark of the ceiling, proving it impossible that the water would be reflecting the sky after all. However, when I looked back to the water, that same reflection mirrored back to me.

"What is this?" I asked suspiciously, reaching a hand forward to touch the water. Cynthia opened her eyes and reached out to grasp my wrist lightly before leading my hand away from the surface.

"Patience, Mila. You've come to ask me questions, haven't you?"

I turned my eyes reluctantly from the water to her, taking in her presence. She looked just as well as before. Her hair looked more silver than blonde in the light of the water and her sable eyes reflected those stars as she watched me pleasantly. I couldn't help but feel warm under her gaze, all irritation and anger having been lost in her presence.

"You asked me to stop Roman, but you failed to mention he's immortal," I decided to start with. I expected a flash of concern to cross her face, but she remained pensive and untouched.

"I believed if I told you this, you would have abandoned any thought of helping the wolves-"

"Of course I would! I can't kill an immortal," I interrupted, a taste of irritation returning to me. "And he bit me for trying, by the way." I took this moment to show off the mark that remained on my neck. The wound wouldn't heal. It was just as raw as the day his fangs tore into me and the pain of it was a constant reminder to my fate.

Cynthia looked at the mark and for once a deep expression of something, perhaps anger or general offense, filled her eyes before she closed them stubbornly.

"I never specified that you were to kill him," Cynthia finally stated before looking at me once more, "There are other ways to stop the seemingly unstoppable. I am, however, deeply sorry for hiding the truth from you. I will do whatever I can to help you survive the insult the King Alpha intends to deliver to the Mother."

I stared at her quietly for a moment, expecting her to put up more of a fight. I wasn't used to being apologized to so quickly. I also was trying to recall if she had ever mentioned killing Roman. When I thought about it, she did only say 'stop'.

"Wait. In what way was I supposed to stop him if not kill him?" I asked in confusion.

Cynthia turned to the water slowly, frowning.

"The Goddesses weren't clear on that path exactly," She finally admitted, much to my disdain. She looked at me briefly. "I would think, because you are marked, that they believe love may be enough to persuade him to return to the true path."

I gaped openly at her.

"Love," I hissed in disgust. "Love?! I can't love that... thing. He's horrible!"

For once, Cynthia appeared quite amused. Her smile held back secrets, a great amount of wisdom hidden behind her eyes as she appraised me briefly. I couldn't see exactly what was so funny about my situation, but I was glad one of us found it entertaining.

"Yes, I can see how this is problematic, but I intend to aid you of course," She continued with ease. She tilted her head towards the water while she watched me, throwing my gaze from her to the surface of that curious lake easily. "This is called the Crone's Eye. In every temple, there typically is a room preserved for the oracles where they can focus on channeling the Crone and seek answers for questions they may need answers to."

Cynthia reached out to lightly brush her hand over the water. As she did so, the color of the water seemed to change before us just as quickly as the ripples folded over it. And then it faded back to its original state easily.

"The Moon and the Earth's oceans have always danced together, a movement of harmony that can close the bridge between us and the Goddesses who watch over us. Remember this, Mila. Many Meda and Medan can even call for answers with the smallest body of water."

"What are Meda... Medan?" I asked hesitantly. This pulled Cynthia's gaze from the water to me pleasantly.

"I forget you aren't of us sometimes," She teased lightly before continuing, "The wolves have a pack system, where they are given titles. The highest is King Alpha, of course. His mate is the Queen Luna. Other packs have their Alpha and Luna. The right hand wolf is Beta and so on. Those who don't hold status titles are sometimes separated by their patron Goddesses, depending on if they appear to be blessed as such. They are given tutelary titles.

The Crone's title was given to oracles, the female wolves being Meda and the male being Medan. The Mother's title was given to those with the blessing of Mates, which was the most common of the titles in the pack. They called the females Gaho and the males Hago. And those blessed by the Maiden showed prowess and particular skill in hunting or fighting. They were called Tala for female and Alta for male."

I instantly recalled the match against Cate in which many wolves wished me luck and garnished me with that name: Tala. It was a title, not a name. I felt strangely uncomfortable. It was as though in that moment they actually considered me a wolf like them and titled me as one. I was stunned.

"I want to help you, Mila," Cynthia interrupted my thoughts carefully, "But I want you to seek answers from the Crone herself. Do you understand?"

I stared at her blankly.

"What?" I asked uncertainly. "You mean through the Crone's Eye?"

"I believe you can receive her visions. And if you do so, I believe you can gain a better understanding of lycanthropes and of the King Alpha himself. It may help you learn what you need to succeed in your path," She continued cautiously, as though unsure if I would completely run away at this point.

"I've never received any visions," I said quickly, "I'm not actually an Oracle or anything. I'm just-" I stopped myself from repeating that phrase 'just a girl'. But still Cynthia smiled at the unspoken words.

At some point, I had to start believing I wasn't just some girl after all. There was always something strange about me. What typical girl could sway the wild and the wolves as I could? I could feel something within me, just resting under my skin. I could smell and feel things I couldn't before. I was partially mated to the King Alpha of the Lycanthropes when mates weren't even possible any longer.

"Fine, what do I have to do?" I muttered without allowing her to respond to my previous statements.

Cynthia stood gracefully, looking into the water quietly. Then she began to step forward, lowering herself into the water until it was to her waist. I expected the water to change as it had before, but it remained quiet and unmoving; not even a ripple in response to Cynthia's presence. It was eerie.

She turned to me and held out a hand beckoningly.

I stared at her a moment, looking from her to the water below her. And then I pushed away my doubt and stood to follow her. I stepped into the water expecting it to be cold, but it was only just so as to be comfortable. The surface remained unmoving as I stepped through it curiously. I reached for Cynthia's hand, taking it in mine breathlessly. She only glanced at the remaining cuff on my wrist, but said nothing about it.

"Lay back," She said to me quietly, causing me to look behind me at the water surrounding me most suspiciously. "Trust me, Mila. I won't let you be harmed." I hesitated a moment longer, but then inhaled deeply before allowing my body to fall back until I was entirely in the water. I floated along the surface and when Cynthia released her grip on me, I felt entirely weightless as I stared into the darkness above us.

"Close your eyes," Cynthia directed me, her voice becoming increasingly quieter. I blinked a few times; taking in the site of the darkness around us that seemed to be growing. My heart thudded louder than ever in my chest. I closed my eyes firmly.

I took a breath. Then I took another. And then a hand suddenly pressed firmly on my head, submerging my body completely into the water so abruptly that I inhaled in surprise. I expected to take in a large amount of water into my lungs, but instead it was as though I had fallen into a void. There was no water. There was no Cynthia. Not even I or my body seemed to exist. There was only the darkness moving around me.

I could suddenly see a flicker of images, like a flood of incoherent memories that must belong to someone other than me. Behind the images were various sounds trying to make sense of their surroundings. And behind the sound were whispers from something else entirely, telling me things normally impossible to know.

I saw a boy crouched in front of a tree, carving into it with a sharpened rock absently. I knew immediately it was Roman despite the fact that he was much younger in this vision. His skin was unmarred by battle, his eyes were soft from innocence, and an uncharacteristic smile was always light on his lips. He was probably about my younger brother's age in this image.

I looked at the carving he was focused on to see him finishing the curve of a crescent moon; Artemis' moon. In one moment, I knew nothing about him. In the next, I knew he was considered one of the Maiden's wolves, like Diana claimed to be. Even at his young age, his loyalty as an Alta wolf was strong and the Maiden was kind in return. He was blessed. He was special.

A creature of the wild abruptly sprinted from the hidden depths of the bushes nearby. With speed startling even to me, Roman lifted his bow from the ground swiftly and launched an arrow at the animal, striking it expertly.

The image changed until only a few years had passed. Roman was sitting along a river next to his younger brother; they were almost identical. Roman was helping him carve his name into the hilt of his favorite knife. By now, Roman could shift into his wolf form, but he remained with his family on the outskirts of the pack. Many in the Trinity pack expected him to begin rising among their ranks, but he preferred the peace and quiet of his current life.

Again the image changed and with it came a sense of urgent panicking. I could hear screams of horror around me. And in place of the younger Roman was one nearly full grown, standing in the doorway of a burning home. His chest heaved with harsh breaths as he stared at the scene before him.

His family was strewn across the floor; blood and broken items scattered among them. His mother was mangled immediately in front of him, as though she had been killed the moment she opened the door. His father was further in, a hole burned into his chest dangerously. And his younger brother was nearby, a deep wound buried into his neck and the remains of a weapon driven into his heart.

Roman knew it was the humans. They had come in a small army, attacking the wolves on the outskirts of the packs in many places. He could hear their cries even as his remained silent. Without a word, he turned away from his burning home and began to walk towards the wolf village.

As he walked, a power roared deep within him. It rippled along his rage and touched any lycanthrope he came to pass. The pack followed him almost in a daze. They were mesmerized by his hatred and by his call.

Roman stood before the highest statuses among them. And without hesitation, he began to strike them down. He ascended from his stance of peace, cutting through the ranks that challenged him, until the final blow was landed on the Alpha himself.

He turned to the pack and with one word, he was King.

"Submit," He ordered, a familiar power roaring within him and demanding the wolves to obey even if they didn't want to. It was the Maiden's blessing; rarely given to any in the history of existence. But Roman, he was special. With this blessing, he would rule all the packs. And with the packs, he would get his revenge on the humans.

-------------------------------

Music: Cruel World by Phantogram