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Felicitas.

I have never heard that name before last night. The woman called me it in my dream.

How could I know my name without knowing it is my name?

I slowly pick up the book, feeling scared to continue reading. I don't know if I'm going to like what I find out. Today can't get any weirder.

When she's older, I can take on my role of being a scout. If I'm not allowed back on territory, I might as well do something useful. Satura is determined to keep my away, she won't forgive me for choosing to raise my daughter in the human world, away from our teachings.

At least this way, by becoming a scout, I still have a link to the pack.

Pack? Territory? The words confuse me so much. They are words I would normally associate with animals, dog species in particular. The logical side of my brain won't let me consider the idea even for a moment. There might be something very peculiar about this town, but supernatural creatures do not exist, and I can't entertain the thoughts that are popping into my head at the idea of wolves and weird dreams and fate.

I skip ahead to a diary that she wrote when I was nine or ten. I open it up and read the date; I must have been about nine and half year's old.

Satura has accepted my application to become a scout. As soon as Felicitas starts secondary school, I will take on my new role. I've spoken to my daughter about it, and I think she is okay with the idea of us moving around. She hasn't always enjoyed her time at this primary school, I think she's beginning to realise that she's different from the other kids.

This isn't what I wanted for her. I wanted her to be raised like a normal human, but that's not possible. She already loves hiking at the weekends so much, she bugs me all the time to go outside, she feels that connection with nature and the trees.

I'm sworn by the not to tell her about her heritage and true self. Because I chose to raise her as a human, I have to abide by our laws, and I cannot break our main oath; to keep our kind a secret from humanity.

I have resorted to writing everything in these diaries. At least, this way, she can find out for herself should the situation ever arise. I figure that I will have to tell her on her eighteenth birthday if she keeps asking so many questions, but hopefully I can keep this from her even past then.

If you're reading this, sweet pea, know that I love you and I'm only trying to do what's best for you.

My eyes well up at the sight of her nickname for me. She has called me 'sweet pea' my whole life. None of this makes any sense and it's making my head hurt, but I can't bring myself to stop because I feel so close to my mother in this moment.

I remember when she sat me down and told me that we would be moving. She wasn't wrong when she said I didn't particularly enjoy my time at my primary school. I did always feel like an outsider there. At first, I was branded as an 'outdoorsy' type of person, but it soon became apparent that I had a much closer bond with nature than the other students my age.

We moved almost every two years when I was secondary school. It was disruptive to my education, but I never minded because making friends is not something that I was good at. I'm still not very good at it, actually.

I found my love of art pretty early on and that didn't help in the making friends department. I would spend hours in summer, at weekends and in the evenings after school drawing and painting by myself in my room. When the weather was good, I loved to take my easel out into the garden and work in the natural light. I still do that when I get the chance.

The little I know about scouts are to do with cub scouts and beavers, children's groups that explore the wilderness. I have no idea what my mother did as a scout as an adult. All I know is that it involved a lot of travel, hence why moved all of the time. She was always going away for days at a time, flying to other countries, and coming back with exotic gifts that would thrill me, but they couldn't fill the missing piece in my heart at having her away so often.

I move onto the last diary which has skipped ten years ahead. I want to find out why she didn't have a talk with me when I turned eighteen. My heart sinks as I read the date; she died two months after this entry.

I'm a coward. I talked myself out of telling Felicitas about her past. She's almost nineteen and she's still clueless to where she comes from and who she is. I know I need to leave something for her, so I have told Stella to give her these diaries if I don't get the chance to.

Felicitas, if you're reading this, please go to the back of the book. I've written you a letter that explains everything.

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Alpha Satura Valens pulls up outside Stella Figo's house. The Sedan is parked on the drive, confirming that this is where the stranger is staying.

It's a pity that Stella is gone, she thinks to herself. She liked the older woman. Respected her, even. Satura knew Stella didn't have long for this world when her mate died, it was clear that Stella was not going to survive without him.

It took some tracking down, but Satura managed to find the stranger's car on the CCTV footage from the supermarket of the previous night. She tracked the reg plate and found it belonged to a Carl Omen. Now, that was a name she hadn't seen in a long time.

Satura knew immediately that it must be Atty Figo's daughter on her territory. The second surprise came from Asper telling her what this newcomer meant to him. But that was something to worry about tomorrow, today's problem is about getting the human off her territory.

Stella Figo was a crafty woman, leaving her property to her niece without telling her alpha about it. She must have known that Satura would never have agreed to letting a human inherit her things. Giving the human the access code to the territory is directly against their rules and Stella knew it, hence why she kept it to herself.

Satura gets out of the car and walks up the driveway. She is regretful that Stella and her mate were not buried on her territory like pack members should be. They must have felt a certain disconnect to choose to be buried elsewhere.

She tries not to let herself be too offended by it, the Figo women have never been particularly fond of her nor she of them. It appears that rebellion runs in the family, because she has never met Atty Figo's daughter and she is already causing trouble for Satura.

The pack members who have seen her about are curious to know how a human got onto their territory. They're eagerly anticipating to find out what their alpha is going to do about it. Most of them are concerned for their safety. A human shouldn't be able to enter their community so easily.

Satura knocks on the door and waits with her hands held together in front of her body. She looks every bit the part of the successful, confident leader that she is.

Atty Figo's daughter answers the door with a look of complete confusion on her face, but it's not because of Satura. A diary is in her hand, open and filled with writing. It's clear that she has been reading something that has stunned her.

"Hello. I believe you are Atty Figo's daughter," Satura states. "I am Satura Valens, the mayor of this community and I'm here to inform you that you are trespassing. I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises and leave our town, please."

The woman is silent for a moment before speaking, "Satura? As in, the Satura who forbid my mother from telling me anything about who I am?"

Satura's powerful eyes drop to the diary and inspect it more closely. She catches a couple of words from the scrawl and puts them together in her head. Atty Figo has written down what looks like everything about her kind, all the way from werewolves to mates to packs and territory.

"Atty," Satura growls the name in anger. "What have you done?"

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