Adeline remembered a time when she had painted; a time when she had coated a blank canvas in exquisite colors.

She had used purples, blues, greens, and yellows. She had used every color known to mankind in great swirls and strokes. Her paintings had conveyed a message of happiness, prosperity... peace. She had painted scenes of joyous expressions, the objects in the center of the had always been bright and full of silent personality.

Even behind closed lids, Adeline could still see the explosions of colors... of life.

Before the attack, Adeline hadn't been just a good artist... she had been advanced for her age! Every time she had completed a work, pack members would fall all over themselves to purchase the painting- usually giving her an extra few dollars along with the initial cost. But a few times a year, Adeline would save paintings to sell to the local humans, usually selling them in cafés and the occasional diner. The money that she had collected from the human sites had been quickly disposited into the pack's bank, but she got to keep the money that her pack mates had given her.

Looking back on those times covered her heavy heart in a blanket of warmth.

Two days before the attack, Adeline had painted a picture of a sunset; the bright orb of fire hovering over a lake of aquamarine, tainting the darkening sky in hues of pinks and purples. The innocent fourteen-year-old girl had been proud of that project, she loved how she had done the mixing of the colors that made up the sunset, but she had set that sunset aside when her mind fished in, yet another, idea to paint.

Even now, almost three years later, that painting was still incomplete. It was probably laying around somewhere in a closet, or perhaps a pack member had shredded the painting after that first attack... burned it.

Adeline wondered how she would react if, even years later, that painting had survived.

If she saw that painting, her claws and teeth would finish it.

It was going to be a masterpiece of rage... a monument of everything that had been taken from her.

She had tried to paint after the first attack, she really had, but her hands had held the brush in all of the wrong places, and her mind had shut down all inspiration.

As her virgin hands had tried to relearn the art of strokes and swirls, her eyes had been overrun by tears.

That was her second attack.

The victim... the canvas of guilt and horror and tears.

After the Beast had been beaten into submission, Adeline could only stare at the canvas as the warriors hauled her out of the room and towards the pack dungeon. Her limp, slick feet had dragged on the ground as they carried her, drawing two lines of paint down the hallways and stairs; creating the trial that led to the destroyed art room.

Towards that shredded canvas, oozing dull colors like blood.

Everything in that room had been trashed. The table had been flipped on its side, jagged marks scoring its smooth surface. The chairs that had flanked the table had been flipped as well, but they had also been reduced to nothing more than splinters. Even to this day, Adeline was sure that her claw marks were still visible on the walls.

But, for some sick reason, the Beast hadn't touched the paint bottles. They had stayed intact, still rolling through the debris even as they dragged her from the room.

All of the paint bottles, but one.

The Beast had taken the bottle of red paint, ripped it open, and smeared it everywhere.

On the flipped table. Chairs. Door. Walls... Windows.

Red paint had still been oozing down the walls as the large wolf had lunged for the unlocked, fragile door.

Adeline hated the color red.

Open her heavy eyes, she stared up at the ceiling. Her heart was still fluttering in her chest and her skin was clammy, but she supposed that it would pass with time. Maybe if she slept it off, she would feel better in the morning?

A little voice in the back of her mind denied her question.

The past few days had been miserable. She was riddled with fatigue, dizziness, clammy skin, and the need to spew everything sitting in her stomach into the toilet. At first, she thought that maybe it had been her mother's amazing cooking skills, but usually, food poisoning only affected a Lupis for a day or two, but it had been more than three days now!

Maybe the curse's death date was starting to take effect. After all, her eighteenth birthday was two weeks away.

The day that was either going to be the end of her suffering, if her parents, somehow, found and killed the welder... or her end.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Adeline fisted the sheet in her bony hands, trying to will herself to sleep.

Thinking about the afterlife and wishing for it was one thing, but knowing that it was going to happen in only two weeks was another.

To be completely honest, she was scared.

Was it going to be painful? Or was it going to be peaceful?

Would she even go to the Afterlife? Or would Noorali shut that door and accept her with open arms, promising her an eternity of punishment and labor?

Turning towards the door, Adeline let out another yawn.

Why couldn't she sleep? Right before she had gone to bed, her mother had injected her with another dosage of wolfsbane. She should've been knocked out an hour ago!

Tucking a hand under her head, she stared blankly at the scarred door. Deep slashes ran the length of it, crisscrossing over each other like railroad tracks.

After the meeting last night, Adeline had wanted to punch that insufferable male! She hardly even knew Finnian, and yet she had no clue as to why Travis had given him the title of beta. Adeline wasn't very good at predicting the ages of wolves- a wolf could live many, many centuries- but to her, that male seemed to be in his early thirties! Way, way too young to have that type of status in a pack!

A wolf needed to have years upon years of experience and control before he could even think about taking over the role of beta. They needed to express control, wisdom, and discipline, and as far as she knew, Finnian had none of those qualities.

Adeline let out a huff, aiming the exhale at a few strands of hair that had fallen over her eye.

She felt bad for his future mate. The poor female was going to have to put up with his flirty, uncaring, ridiculous personality.

What was Travis, Alpha of the Western Pack, thinking?

A few minutes passed of her just staring at the door, her eyes unfocused but her mind numb, then an hour passed.

Just as her eyes were growing heavy, a sound so angry jerked her from her bed.

A howl.

Then a twist in her gut, a tug.

Someone had left.