I ate the last of the creamed potatoes on my plate, and glanced across the table to Helda, who long ago had finished her own meal. She was now resting her elbows on the table, chin propped on intertwined fingers as she watched me, her blue eyes taking in each expression that crossed my face.

Soft music played from a radio in the kitchen, and I heard Elle humming quietly along with the song.

"How was it?" Helda asked, leaning back in her chair when I did, arms lowering to stretch before her on the table.

"Great." I told her, licking my lips and savouring any remnants of its taste. I glanced at Elle, who stood in the doorway of the dining room, leaning against the doorframe. Willow was in the dining room with us, and her body was partially facing one of the only windows in the room.

Helda nodded. "Good."

She stood, lifting her plate and my own before sauntering to the kitchen. Willow glanced at me, expression tired, before she fully faced the window, arms lifting to fold across her chest as she stared out at the passing persons.

Eventually, I moved from the dining table, and perched on an armchair that faced the window, looking out of it as well.

"How much longer will we be here for?" Willow asked dryly. She pulled harshly at the collar of her coat, appearing either a bit hot or irritated.

"Perhaps another hour or so." I told her.

Willow still looked extremely tired, and I leaned forward, studying her, noticing the bags under her eyes.

She was an extremely dedicated and loyal friend, and I knew that trying to convince her to have someone replace her role of being with me in this home would be difficult, but it needed to be done. She needed rest. Willow turned to look at me as I said,

"I can see that you are exhausted. Perhaps you should mind-link Jeremiah so he could take your place instead?"

Willow hesitated, her hand lifting to pull at her coat again; she clearly was battling with answering my suggestion, and didn't respond, so I looked at Elle, asking her,

"Could you mind-link Jeremiah and tell him to come by Helda's home? Willow is going home and he'll be doing her duty for the rest of this evening."

Elle nodded, and Willow didn't protest at my words. Instead, she simply watched the female warrior, an eyebrow raising when Elle shook her head after a couple seconds, a perplexed expression on her face as she explained,

"He isn't responding. But I know that he's by the gun range with Henri and some warriors. I'll go there and relay your message to him if you'd like me to."

I heard the sounds of plates and forks clattering together in the kitchen as Helda washed up, and it momentarily distracted me. I nodded to Elle, who glanced at Willow before turning and leaving.

"Do you want to take off your coat?" I asked Willow, who had yet to stop fiddling with it. With a small grunt she did, slipping it off and I watched as she folded and placed it on a sofa. She began to pace slowly, eyes darting now and then to the kitchen with each noise that was made.

I straightened from where I sat on the armchair, and stood to walk to the window. My fingers lifted to press against the cold window pane, and my thoughts went to the time I had left prison and seen the snow after so many years. The strong emotion of happiness because of me finally leaving that hellish prison had been present that day, and I smiled softly at the memory.

"What are you smiling at?" Willow muttered, passing by me throughout her pacing. I told her, and she too smiled.

"Hopefully you won't be seeing any types of prison anytime soon." She winked, before rubbing at her eyes and then covering her mouth with a hand whilst she yawned.

"Liv! Could you help me with this please?" Helda's voice was surprisingly loud, and was at a volume that I'd never heard her use before. I hurried over to the kitchen, and saw that her hands were covered in soap suds. She gestured to the leftover creamed potatoes.

"Could you put that in the fridge please? I don't want any flies to get at it."

I nodded, immediately lifting it up with one hand whilst opening the refrigerator's door with another. As I placed it in carefully, moving aside a small packet of cheese, I heard Willow's slow footsteps behind me as she entered the kitchen.

I shut the door and looked at Helda, who had just finished off washing her hands. I pressed against a counter, looking between her and the window which was over the kitchen sink.

"I have some chocolate cupcakes. Would you like some to-" Helda's voice became something in the distance as I slowly eased myself up off of the counter, eyes fixated on the pack members outside of the home, sprinting, panic visible in their eyes.

I blinked rapidly in disbelief, watching as lycans tore through the snow outside, paces picking up significantly as they all seemed to be running in a particular direction.

"Something has happened." Willow's voice jerked my attention away from those outside, and I watched as a confused look came over her face. "I'm not sure w-"

An alarm rocked through the air, loud and noisy. My ears began to throb, and I recoiled, pressing my hands against them, gritting my teeth as the alarm went on, seeming to grow louder with each passing second.

"Shit." Willow hissed, stepping out of the kitchen, her eyes wide with disbelief. I heard her walk to the front door, where a small window next to it would allow her to see outside. I stayed in the kitchen, still wincing at the loud alarm and watching the way color drained from Helda's face.

"What is going on?" Her voice cracked with her confusion, and I shook my head, just as bewildered as her. A glass she held broke in her hands when she slammed it down on a counter, and I watched as some of the glass sliced through her hand, drawing a bit of blood.

"Could you pass me a bandaid?" Helda yelled over the loud alarm. She pointed to an overhead cabinet and I nodded, turning around and opening the door.

I saw a small box of bandages tucked in the corner, and I reached for it, but what I saw beside it made me halt, and coldness seemed to abruptly flow through my veins as I stiffened, hand still half-way through through the cabinet.

An opened medium-sized box, with the image of a colorful rainbow colored cake plastered on it faced me, and the words of 'cake mix' on it were in bold, dark words. I felt my already fastly beating heart skyrocket in speed, and my fingers trembled in horror and disbelief.

A lump formed in my throat and I rocked backwards, swiveling on the heels of my feet, and flinched at the sight of Helda holding a gun.

My eyes lowered to the weapon, which was only several millimetres away from my face, and when I raised my gaze and looked at Helda, the expression she had was one which was eerily familiar to the one that her aunt had worn in Corozal.

Her cold, blue eyes seemed unblinking, her face hard and unreadable as she gazed at me. "Not a word." She warned, her arm which lifted the gun steady. I felt my fingers curl into fists by my sides, and my lips trembled with the effort it took for me not to spew hatred towards the woman I'd once considered a friend.

Willow entered the kitchen and I flinched again, despair clogging my chest when Helda smoothly turned the gun Willow's way and pulled the trigger, the heart-stopping noise that followed distinct over the alarm, before snapping the weapon steadily back at me.

The bullet sunk into Willow's throat, and I felt tears beginning to fall down my cheeks as a choked, strangled noise escaped her. She clutched at her throat, blood trickling past her fingers which was pressed against her neck as she fell hard to her knees.

My world seemed to slow as Willow's murky green eyes held mine. I stepped forward, in an attempt to go to her, but Helda didn't hesitate to press the gun against my forehead, making me halt immediately.

My vision blurred momentarily as tears continued to fall, and when I turned to look at Willow once again, I watched in disbelief and shock as she began to climb to her feet unsteadily, the outpour of her dark blood rapidly soaking her shirt.

The determination I saw on her face as she attempted to stand made me weep even harder, and I watched as she struggled, evidently overwhelmed with pain.

"Don't do it, you bitch." Helda spat, taking aim and shooting her again, twice, in the chest this time, ignoring my scream. Willow crumpled to the floor, and Helda watched her unmoving body for a few seconds longer before looking at me, gun swiveling my way.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a gunshot pierced the air. Helda gasped, dropping the arm which had once held the gun. The weapon clattered to the floor as Helda held her arm; a bullet had struck it.

My watery gaze went to Willow, who slowly lowered her hand, the pistol in it falling to the floor. I snagged Helda's gun from off of the floor which she writhed upon in pain, and ran to Willow, dropping on my knees by her body.

Her eyes were wide and soft, choked noises fell from her slightly parted lips. I reached for her hand, sobbing as I grasped it, feeling her squeeze my own tightly, her eyes staying on mine as blood continued to pour from her throat and chest.

"What can I do?" I felt my tears on my lips as I spoke, and never released her hand. "Please-"

It soon became clear, as I watched the way Willow's chest slowed, and despite my attempts at blocking the flow of blood by ripping off the lower half of my shirt, that there was little more that I could do.

She was dying.

"I'm so sorry, Willow." I sobbed, shaking my head. "I'm sorry."

Willow's eyes closed shut, face relaxing, no longer straining in pain and her grip on my hand loosened significantly. My weeping filled the room, body shaking with each sob that came from me.

Until I felt something being pressed against the back of my head.

My sobs quieted, but tears streamed down my cheeks, hand reluctantly releasing Willow's as I turned, still on my knees, not feeling as I'd have enough strength to stand on my feet.

A smirking Quinn stood behind me, gun in hand and I didn't manage to protest or even grab Helda's gun which I had rested beside me when she slammed the butt of her gun against the side of my head.

The last thing I heard before becoming swamped in darkness was the sound of the alarm and the music from the radio that played the same tune of what I'd heard from the teddy bear that had belonged to a young lycan girl in Woodsworth.