The door opened seconds later.

The orphanage director looked exactly as Lillian remembered, perhaps with more lines on his face and more gray in his hair. But he still had the same narrow, mean face with slitted gray eyes and thin, his arched eyebrows and pursed lips constantly etched in a scowl.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he'd always looked as big as a mountain to Lillian. Memories of him screams, insults and beatings came to mind. It had been so long ago, yet his face still elicited the same reaction of wanting to cower in a corner.

Lillian's wolf surged forward. Thoughts assaulted her head, of how easy it would be to shift and let her wolf take him apart.

"Mr. Dawson, I presume?" Arthur said.

The old man flitted his eyes over them, then his eyes settled on Lillian and narrowed even further.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His voice still had the rasp she remembered. Lillian's shoulders tensed without conscious thought. Her body's usual reaction to his voice. Noah shifted beside her, and she felt an ember of anger coming to life in him.

Lillian forced her lips to move. "We'd like a word with you," she said, her voice steady and even.

The old man grunted. "I have nothing to say to you. Go away."

He pushed the door closed, but it was wrenched away from his grip and pulled wide open by an invisible hand. Dawson scrambled back. Arthur stepped inside, pushing the wide-eyed man in. "I think you do."

Mr. Dawson sputtered. He looked younger than his mid-fifties, tall, broad-shouldered with a belly that had gotten bigger since the last time Lillian saw him. But he was not as tall nor as wide as Arthur and Noah. They all went inside, and Lillian closed the door. Mr. Dawson took steps backwards, his eyes flickering from one man to the other.

"I don't know who you people are. But you better leave before I call the police," he said, a waver in his voice that made a sick satisfaction expand in Lillian's chest.

Mr. Dawson reached inside the pocket of his worn jeans to take out his phone. The phone left his hand and shot away to slam against the wall of the living room behind him. Dawson's gray eyes widened.

"Why don't you sit, Dawson?" Arthur said.

Dawson opened his mouth. Arthur shook his head. "That wasn't a request. Sit."

Dawson's throat bobbed, he folded his big frame in the worn black leather couch, his knee bumping against the low glass table in front of it.

Lillian glanced around. The living room was something she expected of a bachelor's pad. Bare except for the couch, the coffee table and the gray carpet underneath. A couple of generic pictures hung on the wall. A TV stood on a black stand. Bottles of beer filled the coffee table, and the smell of dust, alcohol and cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, itching Lillian's nose.

Noah strolled through the living room, his pace leisurely. Arthur and Elle leaned against the wall. Dawson's eyes fixed on Lillian and a sneer came over his features. "I always knew you were a freak. I guess you found your kind."

"What does that mean?" Noah asked. Dawson jumped. Noah was directly behind him, the wolf pushing forward in his amber eyes.

Dawson's body was so stiff Lillian had the absurd thought that if she touched him, he would shatter. She didn't mind the thought too much.

"It means what it means," Dawson said. "Why are you here?"

"Why don't you start by answering the question," Noah said, a distinctive growl in his voice. He put a clawed hand on Dawson' shoulder.

Dawson's heartbeat spiked. The scent of his fear smelled so sweet to Lillian's nose.

"She was a weird kid," Dawson said. "Did things no normal child should do."

Lillian frowned. She had no clue what he was talking about.

"Elaborate," Noah said, retrieving his hand.

Dawson's shoulders relaxed a fraction as Noah moved around him to stand next to Lillian.

"She kept crawling until she turned five," Dawson said. "Even though she knew how to walk. She licked things and..."

"Don't some children do all sorts of weird things?" Arthur asked in a low voice.

"Sure they do, but they grow out of it," Dawson said, glaring at Lillian. "She never did. We had trouble with her. She sniffed people and bit the nurses she didn't like. A piece of work, she was. Right until we beat it out of her."

Noah's growl shook the TV and knocked a few empty beers off the table. Dawson's panicked eyes fixed on him.

"I don't remember any of it," Lillian said, putting her hand on Noah's forearm. "Well, except the beatings."

A meld of anger and thirst for violence hit Lillian. It wasn't hers. She was getting used to sensing Noah's emotions, the bond grew stronger by the hour and she could almost sense its presence in her mind's eye.

The things Dawson was describing, though... It was as if she'd been a wolf pup. But she had always been a human, she never had a sense of a wolf as she did now. She had been decidedly human.

She remembered the director taking her to his office, she remembered the whistle of the rod through the air, the pain on the back of her feet, on her behind, on her arms, but she never remembered any reason for the beatings.

Her wolf wanted to tear out of her skin and show him exactly what it felt like to be under the mercy of someone bigger and stronger, and Lillian was inclined to do just that. Was she turning into a monster?

She looked at the cold eyes of the director. No. If anyone here was a monster, it was him.

Lillian glared at him and crossed her arms. "Is that why you hated me?"

He snorted. "Hated you? Don't give yourself too much credit, girl. You were a nuisance I tried to keep in check. Nothing more, nothing less."

Her entire childhood had been shaped by the behavior of this man towards her. Even after the beatings stopped, he never failed to show his dislike for her. She'd been a bright kid in school, but she remembered the sense of suffocation she felt whenever she got back to the orphanage, the cowering whenever the director walked by.

She lost even that safe haven of school once she entered high school where the bullying started. The cowering and the fear bled to outside the orphanage then.

How could he fail to see the effect his behavior had on a child? Lillian could never imagine beating a kid that way, until they bled and ached for days after. She could have never lived with herself knowing she inspired fear in the heart of an innocent child simply by walking by.

Lillian shook away the memories. "What do you know about my past? How did I get to the orphanage?"

He shrugged. "Hospital delivered you with your papers. They found you nearby. Someone dumped you there. Police got no leads. Our job is to take the likes of you in. So we did."

"Do you even care?" Lillian asked, genuinely curious. "Do you ever regret the way you acted?"

He shrugged a big shoulder. "A firm hand never hurt anyone."

Angry in a way she'd never been before, Lillian laughed humorlessly. "That was more than a firm hand and you know it."

She stepped forward, pushing the coffee table aside with her foot. She misjudged her strength and the table crashed against the wall, the glass shattering in a tinkling sound. Oops. Oh, well.

Dawson's eyes widened as Lillian kept walking. She leaned forward until her face was inches from his. He froze. A prey caught by a predator. The flicker of panic she felt, remnants of her childhood and teenage years, sizzled out of existence. And all she saw was a mean, bitter old man.

"Do you still work in the orphanage?" she asked.

"Yes," he rasped out.

"Quit," she said. "And don't ever go near a child again, do you hear me?"

His breathing quickened, but he glared at her. "You can't tell me to quit. You have no-"

Lillian put her hand around his throat and squeezed, feeling the skin and muscle give beneath her grip. It would be so easy to crush his throat. "This is a warning, Dawson. Quit the orphanage, or I will come to find you, and I'll make the beatings you gave me look like child's play. Do you understand?"

He drew in a wheezing breath. "You can't. I'll call the police, I'll-"

Lillian snarled, giving way to her wolf as much as she could without shifting to fur. Her gums ached as her canines lengthened, fur pricked the back of her neck and arms, and her nails turned to claws, pricking Dawson's skin and drawing blood. The smell of his fear and blood was intoxicating. Lillian kept her wolf from shifting by sheer power of will.

"Do you understand?" she asked, the words garbled through her lips.

"Yes," he whispered, the word barely heard.

Lillian let go and stepped away from his cloying scent.

"Done?" Noah asked, his eyes set on Dawson.

"Yes, let's go. He's not worth it," she said, pulling on Noah's arm. She had a feeling if she left them alone, Dawson would be missing a limb or two. Noah complied after a few seconds.

They walked away. When they reached the door, Lillian looked over her shoulder, Dawson was frozen in his seat, his face pale.

Something whizzed right on top of his head and embedded itself on the wall. A dagger. Elle winked at Dawson. "Just a little reminder to keep your promise."

They drove away from the house.

"Can we make a detour?" Lillian asked.

"Of course, guide the way," Arthur said. She navigated him through town until they reached a sprawling, red-brick building.

"High school?" Elle asked, peering through the window at the building and the expanse of grass around it.

"Yes." Lillian stepped out and stood on the sidewalk. It was a Sunday, the building was deserted. So many memories nipped at Lillian's throat, so many horrible moments she'd carried with her for years.

She looked at the windows, the closed door, the empty parking lot. It was just a building. She associated so much pain with it, but it was just a building. The true culprits were the people. She remembered the faces of those who were the cruelest. Would they remember her now, if she stood before them? Would they remember her ten years from now? Twenty years?

For some of them, picking on her could've been just a prank to have some fun, the insult just a word forgotten soon after they uttered it. Lillian would be a distant memory some wouldn't even recall. But for her, every prank, every insult had been a push toward a dark hole. Lillian had survived, but so many others hadn't. So many others wouldn't.

The bullies might not remember the faces of their victims after some time, but the bullied carry the scars in their hearts for the rest of their lives.

It cost nothing to be kind, but it had a great effect. Who knows? Maybe the kindness you give off-handedly could be the reason to pull someone from the darkness, a kind word, a kind gesture, could be the line that keeps someone tethered to life when a mean word would've thrown them under, pushed them one step closer to giving up.

"An elite high school?" Elle whistled. The rest of them had stepped out and were looking at the school with her.

"Yeah. I was a scholarship student," Lillian said. "You can guess how that went down."

"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?" Arthur asked, looking up and down the building.

"Spoken like someone who never went to high school," Elle said.

"Maybe it's supposed to be good," Lillian said. "But it also made me different."

Noah slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Lillian leaned against him. "What do you guys think about what the director said?" Lillian asked. "Could I have been..."

"A wolf?" Arthur shook his head. "I doubt it. Perhaps there is werewolf blood in you, but you wouldn't have been a full fledged wolf. However, that doesn't mean you were a normal human."

Lillian frowned. "The twins... the twins have been human for the first two years of their lives, too. I could feel it. It was only after they shifted that I felt they were immortals."

"Perhaps you were the same, perhaps not," Arthur said. "The wolf blood must have materialized in things such as your behaviors or instincts, but a child's mind is very flexible, the director's behavior might have made your brain bury those instincts deep inside in order to protect you."

"Everything we have at this point is pure speculation," Noah said.

"We need more," Lillian said.

"The Seer said to look in your past, Lillian," Elle said. "Any other ideas?"

Lillian frowned. "There is another place. The place I lived in with the twins before coming to the pack. I stayed there after giving birth to the twins with Lydia. Although I don't know what good that will do. I don't think we'll find any clues there about my past."

"Might as well go there since we're already out of the pack," Elle said.

Lillian glanced at Noah. "What about... the police and everything? I'm still wanted for Lydia's murder, right? What if someone recognizes me there?"

Noah squeezed her waist. "So what if they recognize you?"

"Well, won't they try to arrest me?"

Noah chuckled. "Oh, please. Let them try."

Lillian growled, the sound coming so naturally to her. "I'm serious, Noah."

He leaned his head until his nose was inches from mine. "So am I. No one is taking you anywhere."

She pursed her lips. He kissed her and straightened. "Let's go."

They made a detour in a drive through to pick up lunch, because Lillian's stomach released a loud symphony that put Noah's growls to shame.

Lillian ate like her life depended on it. She didn't feel alone since Noah and Elle also devoured burgers and fries.

Arthur, their driver, was the only one who didn't order. Lillian thought it was because being a vampire, he couldn't digest big amounts of food. But Elle split her burger in two, she ate half of it and the other half floated in front of Arthur's mouth, and he took bites while driving. The sight made Lillian snort a laugh.

Arthur glanced at her in the rear view mirror. "Am I amusing, Lillian?"

She swallowed her laughter, glancing at Noah nervously. "Uh...?"

"He's joking, Lillian," Elle said, punching her mate on the arm. "You should smile if you want others to know you're teasing."

"It takes away from the fun, my love," Arthur said.

Lillian grinned as the two bickered back and forth. It took her mind off what she'd soon be facing.

Lydia. The thought of going back twisted her stomach up in knots. They would probably find nothing, and she wanted to just go back to the pack instead of going there and opening old wounds. But like Elle said, the Seer said the answer was in her past, so they had to dot their i's and cross their t's.

The trip was shorter than she expected, probably because Arthur drove the car to its highest speed, zipping past cars on the highway. Her werewolf eyes saw everything pass as if in slow motion. And she understood that Arthur's reflexes must be doing the same for him.

At one point, a police car followed them, siren flashing. Arthur glanced at the rearview mirror and continued on his way, out speeding the police vehicle.

Well, then.

He slowed the car once they were out of the highway. The town looked just as Lillian remembered it, which was to be expected since it'd only been a few months since she left. Sometimes it felt like years.

Lillian navigated them through town toward Lydia's house. People strolled around, and the roads were slightly busy this late in the afternoon. Lillian's heart beat faster as the car rolled to a stop in front of Lydia's house.

"It's probably not a good idea to park here," Lillian said, glancing at the neighbors' homes. "Someone might report us- well, me."

"Don't worry," Arthur said, looking up and down the quiet street. "I have a good team of lawyers."

Lillian sighed, deciding to trust them, and led the way to the front door. The familiar house brought a pang to Lillian's heart. One of the windows was broken, and the front yard was overgrown with weed.

She looked at the locked door, wondering how they'd break in. Noah gently pushed her aside. He gripped the door knob. Veins pulsed in his hand and forearm, a second later, he pushed the door open, breaking the entire lock with it.

That was one way to do it.

They went inside. Lillian stopped, looking at the stain on the floor. Memories of that cursed night rushed to her mind. Rain. Flashes of lightning. Lydia's prone body on the floor. Blood. Fear.

Her wolf roared forward, reacting to the mess of her emotions. She took a deep breath and shoved everything but the present aside.

The house smelled of dust, mold, the sharp tang of bleach and a hint of old blood. She was aware of the others looking around as she took slow steps inside. The place was cleared of furniture. Lillian looked at the kitchen. Nothing. Everything was gone. Every last trace of their lives here was gone. As if they never were, as if Lydia never was.

Noah was pushing the door of the twins' room open. "Empty," he said, looking inside. "The twins' room?"

Lillian nodded and walked deeper into the house. She drew in deep breaths, using her nose as Noah liked to remind her every so often. She didn't know what she was looking for, she didn't even know if there was something to find.

Elle and Arthur looked through cupboards and drawers in the kitchen.

Something tugged Lillian to the backyard. She followed her instinct, pushing the French doors open. The backyard of Lydia's house was surrounded by a wooden fence, beyond which was an old park with thick trees and grown vegetation. That was where the twins had hid the night the humans came for them.

The fence was broken now, the gate and parts of the fence missing, and the grass in the backyard was edged with bushes and weeds. The only tree in the backyard, an old oak under which Lydia and the twins often hung out, reached for the sky, immovable and unchangeable.

Lillian stepped off the porch and looked around the abandoned backyard. The twins' toys were nowhere to be seen, disappearing with everything else. Lillian wondered who had taken the furniture and everything else. She supposed Lydia's next of kin would inherit everything, though Lydia never spoke of any close family members.

She went back inside. Noah had shifted into his wolf and was sniffing the floor of the living room.

"Something?" Lillian asked.

He shook his head. "No. I only smell humans over the old hints of your scent and the twins'. But there's something..."

Lillian frowned and looked around. Something itched at her. Noah went into Lillian's old room. She glanced over her shoulder at the backyard, but before she could retrace her steps, Noah growled.

The three were in the room in a glance. Noah's nose was pressed to the dusty floor next to the closet.

"What is it?" Elle asked.

"I smell a vampire," he linked Lillian. "It's old, but it's here."

"A vampire," Lillian told the others. She frowned.

"Do you recognize the scent?" Arthur asked, going to crouch next to the black wolf.

Noah shook his head and, his nose still stuck to the ground, tracked the scent all over the room and then outside. "They must've been here before the police cleared everything," Noah said. "I don't smell them in the living room since it was cleaned because of the blood."

Lillian relayed Noah's words to the couple.

"Why don't you check the other rooms?" Arthur said, straightening up. "Lillian, is there any reason a vampire would've been here?"

Lillian shook her head immediately. "No. I don't think I ever saw a vampire in town, and Lydia didn't have any ties to vampires, as far as I know."

Lillian frowned, remembering Lydia's guns and the way the old lady had handled them with such familiarity. Lydia never told Lillian exactly what she used to do before retiring, and Lillian never pressed the issue.

Noah emerged from the twins room. He was annoyed and frustrated, Lillian could feel it.

"More vampires and a witch," Noah linked, his wolf's lips twitching in a snarl. Lillian relayed the words again.

Elle sighed. "Maybe they were looking for something? Now that we know Lillian might've been involved in Blazius' experiments..."

"But what?" Lillian asked. "I didn't have anything of interest."

Arthur rubbed his jaw. "Perhaps it is not you," he mumbled. "What is the name of the woman you used to live with?"

"Lydia Harrison," Lillian said. Arthur pulled out his phone and typed something.

"What did she do?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know exactly," Lillian said. "All I know is that she used to work for the government before retiring."

Suddenly restless, Lillian went into her old room, shed her clothes and shifted into her wolf. The flash of pain mixed with the relief of letting her wolf out again.

Following Noah's footsteps, she pressed her nose to the floor, sneezing twice at the dust and the assault of old and new scents. Elle chuckled, patting Lillian's head. Lillian shook her head and pushed her nose to the floor again.

The living room smelled vaguely of bleach, stubborn hints of old blood and humans, and the twins' scent that clung to the walls and was too embedded to disappear.

But once she got to the rooms, her nose picked up traces of immortal scents. Barely there. Noah was right. She met him near the French doors to the backyard. The open doors let in a pleasant afternoon breeze.

Lillian went back to the backyard, letting her wolf scan the overgrown space.

Noah's wolf pressed his length to hers. He was much bigger than her even in wolf form. He gave her neck a lick. Lillian's wolf growled, echoing Lillian's mood.

"Not now," she linked, giving him a long look.

The wolf grinned, and Lillian felt Noah's amusement as if it was her own. "Later, then?" He said.

She rolled her eyes and stepped out to the back porch, but not before swishing her tail and making sure it hit his nose. He growled playfully.

"Maybe later," Lillian linked him. "If you're lucky."

"I'll remind you of this," he shot back, his voice light.

She stepped off the porch and followed her instincts, her mind running. Immortals had been in their house, looking for something. Lillian had nothing they might be interested in, so that left Lydia, per Arthur's assumption. What would Lydia have to do with immortals? Lillian didn't have the slightest clue. The idea was very far-fetched.

But something about it rang true to her instincts. Supposing it was true, that Lydia did, indeed, have something those immortals wanted. Supposing Lydia hid such a thing. Where would she hide it?

Lillian glanced back at the house. The rooms were empty, there was nowhere to search, except if there was a false floorboard or something like that.

But she kept coming back to the backyard. Lydia loved the old oak in the backyard, she used to spend a lot of time there with the twins, they used to have picnics under its shade in spring and summer, sometimes Lillian would come home to find Lydia reading to the twins while they lay on her lap.

So many fond memories. She only lived with Lydia for five years, but they were the best five years of her life up to that point. Noah sniffed the back porch and the steps. Lillian went straight to the old oak tree. She circled it once and glanced up. The sun peeked through the branches and leaves. Lillian pressed her nose to its bark and the dirt around it. Nothing. She glanced up when Arthur stepped out into the backyard, phone in hand.

"I think you'll want to hear this, Lillian," he said. "Your friend Lydia Harrison was an interesting woman."

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Hello guys! I hope you're doing well. Did you enjoy the chapter?

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Much love <3 <3 <3

M.B.