The mansion fell silent, words of panic and confusion lifting up into the air, creating an atmosphere of tension.

They felt it as something tugged from deep within their gut, the twisting and pulling sensation morphing into something so much more.

It flooded fluttering hearts, encasing the organ in a mist of pain and uncertainty.

They felt it...

Felt his death.

As Dillon stared down at the male, his body a mangled, broken piece of art, he couldn't help but feel great, great sorrow. Sorrow so deep and strong, that it squeezed his heart, threatening to flood his eyes.

He swallowed with force, shoving down the emotion that thrashed and raged, hissed and howled to be let free.

But he wouldn't allow it, not now, definitely not tomorrow; perhaps, he would never allow it out.

Clyde had been the one to betray them; the one to buy, and cast that curse onto their daughter, all because they had been stupid enough to forget about questions, stupid enough to trust him, when they really hadn't known where his loyalties had truly belonged to.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

They had known him for nearly a century; he had been beside them as they overthrew the former alphas, as they pieced the pack back together, as they discovered that they were with a pup, for the second time.

He had even been the first wolf they had allowed to hold Adeline!

Dillon shook his head, still staring at the corpse of his friend... of his enemy.

Had it been all an act? Had all of the smiles, the laughs, the jokes and teasing, all been an act?

If a wolf had asked Dillon that a few hours ago, he would've scoffed and said that Clyde was like a brother to them, that... that he was a part of their little family.

But now, now, Dillon didn't know what to say.

Howls slithered up from the floor, one by one, all following a rhythm of pain and loss, of anger and sadness.

They all still didn't know what had happened.

What had almost happened.

If they hadn't arrived when they did, Dillon was certain that Clyde's would've succeeded in his attempt at taking their daughter's life.

It was a miracle she was even alive! The force that Clyde had been using, would've crushed a human's neck as easily as crushing a soda can with your foot.

"How did he get past the Oracle?" Alexandra whispered, blood dripping from her claws... from her fingertips.

The droplets of crimsons stained the floor below her, standing stark against the moon-white tiles, but, that liquid hadn't caught his eye.

No.

The tears streaming down her face had captured his attention. The burning droplets of emotion were racing down her cheeks, tracing her jawline, dripping to the floor to mix with the blood.

The life's blood of Clyde, the male that had cursed their daughter.

The howls grew louder, alerting him that the pack had begun to try to locate the beta's body, to discover what had ended his life; trying to find him, so that he'd get the proper burial all wolves received once they passed.

The burial he did not deserve.

All wolves, once they had left to go meet the Moon, were laid down on a stone altar, a sheet of ivory white silk draped over their bodies. Then, after family members and friends said their goodbyes, a chosen flame bearer, usually a sibling or close friend, would drop the branch of an ancient oak engulfed in flames, at the foot of the corpse. And, under the heavenly light of the Moon and stars, the wolves would dance and pray, sing and celebrate a life well-spent.

Clyde would not be getting that ceremony.

No.

He'd be laid out on an altar, his body exposed and vulnerable to the elements around him. There, he'd lay for nine days, unsupervised and unprotected. His corpse would be a feast for the crows and vultures, sent directly from the fiery pits of the underworld by Noorali himself.

Once the nine days were over, the pack would walk out to the Damned Site-- all silent; all with eyes aimed at the ground they walked.

They'd set his corpse on fire, not a single word being uttered as the flames devoured the flesh, leaving nothing behind but ash.

The Eastern wind would pick up the ash, spreading it far and wide.

Sasha fought back the tears as the alphas spoke, their forms blurring from the water rising in her eyes.

She swallowed with difficulty; her tongue seemed to swell in her mouth, taking up so much space that she couldn't even think to form words; let alone form answers to their questions.

Their accusatory questions.

"How could you not see that he was planning this?!" Alexandra shouted, advancing on her. "Aren't you an "all-powerful" Oracle?"

Dillon narrowed his eyes, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Sasha clenched her jaw; she was starting to regret sending Desmond off on a run into the woods.

But she would not cower, especially to these two.

She shook her head, her back straightening. "I don't know! Maybe it had something to do with his ally? Perhaps she put some sort of spell on him, that prevented me from seeing his motives! After all, I have only been an "all-powerful" Oracle, for a little over a year!" Sasha threw her hands up in exasperation.

She could feel the anger rising up within her, boiling just below her skin... She'd always had a temper, and it wouldn't take much more to send her over the cliff of madness.

Dillon scowled, the face echoed by his fumed mate.

The she-wolf circled her, her steps smooth... unhurried. But Sasha knew better; she could see the wolf in the woman's eyes.

The beast watched her every move, her every breath-- waiting for the perfect moment to pounce-- to capture the mouse by its tail.

Sasha refused to be a mouse.

She refused to be a part of this animalistic, wild game of predator versus prey.

Sasha flashed the Luna a sneer. "You better stop your prowling, Alex. You ain't scaring me; not by a long-shot."

The she-wolf continued her circling, her dark eyes illuminated by the presence of her wolf. She lifted her upper-lip at her in a silent snarl, her canines flashing.

'Stupid stupid stupid stupid.' Sasha chanted in her mind, but, just like all the other times in her life, her mouth didn't listen to her brain.

Sasha took a step towards Alexandra, her golden eyes glittering. "How about you close your mouth, stop the creepy pacing, that, frankly, cannot be good for your ancient, crabby heart, and put on your big-girl pants, and talk to me... like a real woman, instead of a raving, rabid lunatic."

"You bit-" Alexandra snarled, taking a step towards Sasha, but was cut off when Dillon finally stepped in.

"Both of you need to stop." He growled. "Both of you, "mature females", are acting like pups who did not get a participation medal."

'Ouch.' Sasha thought, still staring directly at the pissed she-wolf; Alexandra had no problem returning the glare.

Sasha lifted her chin and flashed the Luna a cocky grin, one that she knew would drive the woman mad.

She knew from her wide experience of pissing off people. It always worked on her mate, Travis, and Finnian, so she was fairly certain that it'd work like a charm on Alexandra.

Sasha smile widened when the Luna's eyes narrowed, and she clenched her jaw so hard, that she was surprised no teeth were popping out of her mouth. 'Bingo.'

Dillon craned his head over his shoulder, shooting his half-feral female a growl with teeth. "No, Alexandra. You cannot do what you just said to me. Desmond would surely kill you."

"Awe, man." Sasha groaned. "Why can't you tell me what she was just saying about me? Please?"

Dillon's head whipped around to her, a vein stretching across his temple. "Shut it, Sasha."

Deciding not to push it further, she closed her mouth, her eyes still trained on the she-wolf behind Dillon.

Seconds passed, then a minute, but it felt like an eternity as the wolves' eyes dimmed, their wolves either pulling back willingly or being forced back.

Even though Sasha loved aggravating the wolves, she understood that perhaps now was not the time.

And, as Dillon pulled back, allowing the woman behind him to take a step forwards, Sasha felt like complete and utter crap.

They all could feel the tension in the air, all sense that something was coming... something big. But none of them knew what it was, and all of them were experiencing the symptoms of being left clueless and... scared.

Sasha had been experiencing it too, the anxiety, the irritation that followed her every step, breathing down her neck, the hopelessness. If someone so much as looked at her wrong, the looming emotion would coo in her ear, purring a hymn of vengeance.

They all were hopeless and scared.

Scared, that, should they not break the curse in time, that this would all be for nothing.

"We'll come back to the subject of Clyde later," Dillon said, his voice emotionless, but Sasha wasn't fooled. She could see the war waged in his eyes. Two sides of a coin battling, fighting for the right to stay in his heart. One, representing family, trust, and honor, but, the other standing for revenge, hate, and duty.

Sasha's brow furrowed as the male continued to speak.

"Have you started the potion yet?"

She nodded.

As he went on talking, bringing up the plan they were taking to get to the coven grounds. Once the potion was finished, and they drank it, Alexandra, Dillon, Adeline, Finnian, two warriors, and a doctor, were going to leave the mansion immediately afterward, leaving Sasha and Desmond behind. They were going to all get piled into two large vans; one van that was set-up similarly to an ambulance. The back of the van was going to be empty, all of the seats pushed down, leaving only enough room for a hospital bed and three wolves-- two sitting up front, in the driver and passenger seat-- and one more, right beside the bed. The bed where Adeline was going to lay.

The other van would carry the three other wolves, the back seats filled with medical supplies, suitcases, food, water bottles, extra cash, and vials upon vials of silver and wolfsbane.

Even though she didn't like staying behind, she understood why. She wouldn't be of use; yes, she could see into people's souls, but she was as weak and vulnerable as a human.

As much as she teased and irritated the wolves, she truly cared for them, in her odd, irritable ways.

And she would be damned if she were the cause of one of their deaths because she hadn't been able to defend herself.

So, once Dillon had finished speaking and dismissed her, she had immediately traveled back to her suite, staring down at the bubbling, foaming liquid that controlled Adeline's fate.

Only two more days, and it'd be ready.

'Please,' She whispered in her mind, praying to any deity that would listen. 'Please be ready. Please, please be ready on time.'

Finnian continued to pace, the knot on the back of his head throbbing with each step, but it'd get better.

But his heart would not.

Not until he saw her.

Not until he checked on her, making sure she was safe... unharmed.

"Goddammit!" He howled, his fist rearing back, then shooting forward.

Pain splintered in his hand, racing through every muscle, every tendon, every bone.

The sickening sound of a crunch hit his ears, causing his ears to ring, and the world to spin, but it still didn't push away the pain and fear in his heart.

If something were to happen to her...

If something had happened to her...

The wall of concrete he had punched didn't even show an ounce of damage, save for a splot of angry red liquid standing stark against the cool, dull grey.

'Mate... mate... mate.' His wolf growled, trying to push for control, but the man would not let it pass.

The world was a better, safer place if the man remained in control. Yes, the wolf had skills and a use, but, instead of relying on brains and common-sense, the beast relied on instinct.

If it saw a problem, it's first thought was to eliminate it... either by intimidation... or death.

"What the hell is going on?!" Finnian snarled, whipping around to face the basement door.

Howls continued to sound, shattering the silence that had nearly lulled him into a silent, restless sleep.

Clint, the pack's former Delta, gripped his cell bars, his large fists surrounding the metal so tightly, that his knuckles were white from the strain.

Finnian stepped as close to the male as possible, his own hands rising to grip the silver bars of his cell.

"What is going on?" He hissed.

The male shook his head, the muscle in his cheek fluttering.

"Clint! What is going on?"

The male released the bars, jerking backward as if the bars had burned his flesh raw.

"CLINT!" Finnian roared, shaking his own bars with all of his might, but they refused to budge. The bars were placed deep within the concrete, it's ends secured by the concrete floor and ceiling.

There was no way he was going to move them.

The amber-eyed male took another staggering step backward, his eyes glowing as fiercely as the Moon.

Finnian's stomach clenched as fur sprouted along his arms, his human nails replaced by onyx black, razor-sharp claws.

Clint finally answered, his voice rough with emotion. "Clyde... Clyde is dead."

Finnian released the bars slowly, his mind going silent. The whole world dimmed around him. All he could hear, all he cared about, was those three words.

Clyde...

The male he couldn't stand.

The male that he had nearly killed, oh so many years ago...

He was dead.

But the better question was...

Who had killed him?

Wolf took over man in a flurry of shredded clothes.

Finnian stood tall in the cell, his rump nearly brushing against the bars opposite of the ones in front of him. His ears were pressed forward, listening for the slightest hint of an attacker.

Had that been the reason all of the wolves had been howling?

His pointed ears flicked back, his jowls lifting, forming a silent snarl.

If there were attackers...

Then were was Adeline?

Finnian snarled, a vicious, dark sound as he backed up fully against the bars behind him, tucking his head close to his chest.

He rocked himself back onto his haunches, and propelled himself towards the bars.