🎈Dedicated to 🎈

🎂 HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!🎂

....

"Milo," I called with a whistle, "where are you boy?"

After a moment of silence, no bark or anything, I began walking again. I knew that he could have opened a door, he was smart, but he had always responded to my call. Maybe he was stuck somewhere.

"Milo," I yelled again, "come here boy."

Nothing.

With a huff, I threw a random door to my left open. I was greeted by darkness. Feeling against the wall, I found a light switch and flipped it up. A gasp left my lips as I found that it was an art studio of sorts. There was idle paint cans, brushes, and canvases scattered about. On the walls were framed paintings, some of city scenes and some just complex abstract. But what they all had in common was the color...or rather the lack there of. Black. They were all in black or gray or white, but mostly black.

Looking back to the paint cans, my brows furrowed. I knelt down and opened one. It was blue. Moving on to the next, I discovered it was yellow. From there on I found pretty much every color there was, so the question was why only paint in black? It gave the room a dull, lifeless feeling.

Maybe there just wasn't passion in painting for the artist anymore.

I walked up to a particular painting that caught my eye. It was of a rocking chair, broken and cracked in places. But perched on the arm of that broken and cracked chair was a crow. It's black wings looked soft to the touch and if it were real I would be tempted to reach out a hand and see for myself, but those inky eyes held a warning. Stay away.

I stumbled back, the ominous painting making my skin crawl. But just as I was about to leave something else caught my eye. I hesitated for a moment, staring at the hidden canvas, then curiosity got the best of me. Heading to the back of the room, dodging the paint cans that threatened to trip me, I stood before it. My hands shook slightly from the fear of the unknown, but I quickly dismissed it and gently pulled away the black tarp.

I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing.

There, on a canvas roughly large than any of the other ones, was me....in all color. I was an off-guard angle that I recognized from the day we were all training together in the gym. My hair was messy, skin flushed, but somehow it...just worked. I did a slow turn, glancing back at the other dark paintings, then looked to mine again.

My eyes began to blur, tears threatening to spill down my face at the clear message behind this. And I knew who to thank when they got back.

.

.

.

.

After I erased all traces of my invasion, I had started searching for a Milo again, along with Alaric. But I kind of didn't want to see him. Had he heard what Caspian and I were up to last night? Was he angry? Disgusted? Jealous?

Well it wasn't long before I knocked out two birds with one stone and found them both. There were curled up together in our reading spot. Milo looked half asleep, while Alaric had his eyes narrowed at a book. He was doing his cute nose scrunch thing.

When the door closed, he looked up. I expected....I don't know maybe a side-eye, but not his usual, breathtaking smile. I hesitated, then gave up trying to punish myself, walking up to the adorable pair.

"You stole my dog," I playfully accused. Alaric blushed, even his neck turning red, then looked away. I laughed lighty, sitting down beside him. I ran my fingers down Milo's spine and his head slowly lifted. When his eyes met mine he gave a happy bark, tail beginning to wag. I leaned my cheek down and he immediately attacked it with puppy kisses. I giggled, pulling away and turning back to Alaric. He was staring at me with adoration and my heart swelled.

His boyish charm always made me feel like a little girl with a crush. And maybe I was just a little girl with a crush.

Alaric's eyes dropped down to my lips and I immediately licked them. Those amber eyes darkened. Without the shyness he usually shows, Alaric closed the little distance between us and kissed me. If I could melt anymore I would. His lips were so sweet, but yet demanding. I met his desire with my own, sliding my hand up the back of his neck. It wasn't frenzied, like how I felt with the others. We took our time.

When I pulled back to breathe, his forehead rested against mine. I gave him another loving kiss, then settled my head in his lap.

We didn't need to speak....just be in each other's presence. After awhile, I began to fall asleep. I missed my guys.

My Lycan whined again for June. We missed our mate. She was so pretty and kind and fierce. We just wanted her in our arms. Did she miss us as much as we missed her?

"He's doing the thing again," Clent attempted to whisper, but we were on high alert and heard every little thing. We growled at him.

Kelen's head snapped to us and glared. "Marcus, get out of your head, push back your Lycan, and focus," he hissed lowly, then turned back to the cabin.

"Should have left your clingy ass at home," Clent muttered.

We growled again, but tried to focus.

It wasn't fucking working.

With another growl, this time at us, I pushed my Lycan back. Now it was just me. And I needed to focus; to focus on those two no-good-bastards. They hadn't left, no, they were still in that cabin. We had gone to get June's clothes, but the lights were on. We had waited for an hour, monitoring from the trees, when out walked Julian. That son of a bitch. He whistled as he dragged something in a black trash bag around the back of the cabin, and into a cellar that was hidden under dirt and leaves.

My eyes narrowed when he emerged, dusting off his grimy little hands. Blood caked his clothes, splatters of it across his face like sinister freckles.

What the fuck were they up to?

What do you guys think those scum bags are up to?