© 2014 SilverStream22. All Rights Reserved.

"Hold this."

"And this, please."

"Now you've done it, ladies. The poor girl doesn't look like she can hold anymore." Draver scooped up the bags that Lorena and Iris gave to the bellgirl whose named tag read Quinn.

I clutched tighter to the strap on my backpack, keeping a fair distance from the god-like creatures that called themselves Lycans.

I snorted.

Lycans? More like liars.

Castor and Stark came back to the center of the lobby where we were all seated on the luxurious sofas.

"Got our keycards?" Alric asked impatiently, bouncing his foot up and down. "I need to get out of these clothes and fast. Airport clothes don't exactly fit me."

I thought back to the flight in which all out our clothes

We had just barely landed in the airport. I found out another one of Iris' affinities- intelligence. After breaking down the bare code of the plane's main functions, she was able to switch to autopilot landing. Unfortunately her skill required a lot of time to actually perform the task. There was no super-speed reading. She had to carefully comb through the code that we accessed thanks to Castor's hacking, something that wasn't any affinity for once. After landing, Lorena and Iris had spoken to the airport officials who, surprise, surprise, were werewolves. We had gotten new clothes after that to replace the bloodied ones so as to not scare the mundanes.

It was starting to hit me just exactly how many connections that Lorena and Iris had. I knew Lycans were powerful in terms of physical levels, but to know that they were socially and economically wealthy was something unexpected. Maybe mundanes didn't sense it- the extreme sense of power that practically oozed out of a Lycan.

"Katya." Stark said low, extending a gold keycard out to me. "Here."

"Do we have the same room?" I jumped, desperate to fix the problem now before all the rooms were booked.

He merely pressed the elevator's button, sighing softly as we waited for it to arrive. The awkward tim in between was filled with a tense silence. I was grateful the moment that the elevator came down and we all stood up, making our way to the short distance from the elevator itself. 

I was in my own corner, watching the glowing roman numeral numbers as they creeped up the seventh floor. For some reason my eyes fell to Castor, who seemed more than relaxed to in Spain. There was one thing I noticed was off though.

His jaw looked...out of place. Like he set it back after a sharp uppercut.

I didn't question it any further, making my way out last with the keycard suffocating in my clammy palms.

I was back to square one, being nervous and tense around them. Cautious was a right word to label my actions around such powerful beings. I couldn't afford to let my guard down around them. Not after they lied.

I felt a finger hook onto my shirt collar, pulling me back gently. I scowled and turned around, facing a no-expressioned Stark.

"Room 742." he muttered, swiping the keycard from my hand to hold it up for me to see the number pressed in bronze. 

I snatched it from him as he opened the door with his own keycard.

Great. We had the same room.

But then I noticed the door.

"Conjoining rooms?" I breathed, looking back at him as he leaned against the doorframe- something I was assuming that he liked to do often.

"Yes. I still need to keep an eye on you because-"

"Because I'm your captive." I filled in, dropping my backpack on the bed. "Because taking me out of state wasn't enough, now you had to kidnap me to Spain-"

"For your own safety." he sliced through, his eyes frosty. "I'm still upholding the deal I made with your brother-"

"Yeah, to protect the pack!" I insisted. "Not me!"

He shook his head, turning hack back before looking over his shoulder. "We made a deal to protect you Katya. Not Mikhail's pack."

_____________________________________________________________________________

Barcelona was gorgeous- mostly because I was spending the majority of my night time in family-friendly areas. 

Alric and Lorena, however, ventured into the darker parts of Spain's best. Jazz and Draver were back at the hotel with Lorena and Iris. I didn't know where Stark was- and I didn't want to know. That left Castor and I to sit with on a mossaic table discussing the stars above.

It was a lot more than I was used to coming from Oklahoma. Though I never really had a good look at the stars. I was always sheltered away by my family, made sure that I was protected and well-fed, healthier and more fit than any other child my age.

"Can you speak Spanish?" Castor asked as he dropped a magazine on my lap, bringing empanadas and lomo saltado with him.

"Somewhat. Where did you get this?" 

Castor was the only one I was able to bear with- mostly because he was frank and straighforward.

"Saw them when I picked up our order." he divided the meal into two portions, handing me the empanadas for me to grab some for my plate.

I casually flipped through the magazine, keeping an eye on my food in case he tried anything funny.

I stopped on the image of triplets wiith thick black hair standing next to a woman with chocolate eyes who had the arm of a man that looked like the spitting image of the three boys.

"Who's that?" I slid to magazine over to him, tapping my finger on the woman's face.

"Oh. Them." he looked genuinely surprised. "Don't you know? That's one of the branches of the Royal families."

"Since when is Spain a kingdom?" I raised an eyebrow.

He laughed, choking on a braised chicken breast. "Oh no. Their family is werewolf. Well, half Lycan too."

"Really? I never knew."

"They didn't tell you that?" he frowned. "It's part of werewolf history. These are the people that transfer the Lycan ability from the Moon Goddess herself unto the ones that she choose."

"Did you get your Lycan staus from them?" 

He reached for my food but I smacked away his hand, lifting up my fork to dig in. "No. I got it from the Jaegers."

"Jaegers?"

"They're Germans." Castor replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Surprisingly reserved."

I shoved a forkful of seasoned rice, the flavors blooming on my tastebuds. Before I could help myself, I blurted: "Who did Stark get it from?"

He gestured to the regal family of five. "The Anosovas. They're the oldest branch of Royal family."

Suddenly his eyes made their way past my shoulder. His empanada fell on his plate.

"By the Goddess," he whispered, standing up.

"What?" I turned around, looking at the open pavilion that served as a public dancefloor.

He swallowed, glancing at one girl in particular who swept the dancefloor- literally.

"That's my sister."

___________________________________________________________________________

"Winry, what are you doing here!" Castor's image appeared beside her.

I blinked, looking at the fifteen year old. "That's your sister?"

Bright silver eyes, like burning chains, met my own before looking abck to Castor. "What? I can't clean? You should be happy, I'm turning into a neat-freak like yourself."

Castor snatched the broom from her hand, dragging her to our table. "Seriously. What are you doing here?"

"I want to help around here. It's fun." she shrugged and pulled a rag from her utility belt from her hip, rubbing down Castor's side of the table.

I could see the likeness between the two.

"Oh. I'm rude. Sorry. My name is Winry Novella. It's a pleasure to meet you." she gave me a brief, tight-lipped smile. 

I didn't need anymore hints. It was obvious that this girl didn't like me one bit.

"Hi." I started. "I'm Katya Michaelis. It's nice to meet you too. I didn't know that Castor had a sister."

She jutted out her hip, glaringat me for a fraction of a second before sending me a sugary grin. "Because he wouldn't tell someone who he took a tumble in the sheets with his life story."

"No, because he's more about cleaning the blood stains in a plane and keeping to himself and Stark, my mate, instead of sociallizing."

She pasused. "So- so you're not my brother's girlfriend?"

"No. He's my bodyguard...of sorts."

She paled. "Oh my Goddess. I am so sorry! It's just that ever since Elena passed wawy, SCastor had a bunch of whores hanging on his arm."

I rolled my eyes. "The only thing he has hanging on his arm in a rag."

"Sit, sit." Winry pulled out the chair for me to fit and finish my food.

Before I knew it, we were all sitting down, eating our empanadas and talking about Castor when he was little. It was then I realized that Winry was just like Castor, straighforward and truthful. It was surprisingly refreshing compared to the others.

____________________________________________________________________________

I put my toothbrush back into the dental packet provided in the bamboo shelf. I felt slightly awkward knowing that Stark was in the room next to me. Taking a deep breath, I turned around to twist the knob of the shower, letting hot water spray from the eco-friendly showerhead.

I flinched back when I heard the door open, signalling the obvious prescence of my mate coming in from his door.

I was grateful that he didn't knock on the bathroom door and make things extremely awkward for the both of us.

Stepping into the shower, I grabbed the conditioner, skipping over the shampoo since I took a shower in the morning when were arrived at the hotel. Working the product in my hair, I thought about Mikhail.

He must've been really angry at me- angrier than usual. And that made me upset. There was so much that I didn't tell him, so much that I owed him. I never talked to him about what it was like to have a mate, something he was always dreaming about. I just wish that he and I had more time- as if twenty years together wasn't enough.

I thought of his brown eyes, so similar to my own. I thought of my Mom and my Dad, both who had their curly black hair whereas I was stuck with wavy hair. My Mom's curls...I still remembered the. Soft and bouncy, the scent of fresh honey and rosemary. It couldn't help but hold back a sob when my mind connected the safe and happy image of my parents to the deformed and detached bodies that showed up on our doorstep. I clenched my fist, tilting my head back into the showerstream as the water washed away the conditioner, as well as the memory of my dead parents.

I stepped out of the shower and onto the rug on the floor, wrapping a towel just under my armpit, my wet feet soaking into the plush white fabric. The wiped down the mist that covered the mirror with the length of my forearm, surprised to see that my eyes were no longer brown.

They were silver.

I blinked twice, gasping in relief when the color vanished, leaving me once more with murky brown eyes. My mind was playing tricks on me. There was no possible way I could be a Lycan- I needed one of the Royal families to bestow the status of Lycan to me. 

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms, setting my hands back on the edge of the sink. 

You're hallucinating.

I glanced at the sink beside me- Stark's. There wasn't any personal touch, nothing like my side of the sink which already had traces of my prescence.

I frowned when I saw something shiny flicker under the flourescent lights. Leaning over the sink with my towel wrapped tighter around me, I pushed away the bottled soaps on a marbled plate, my heartstrings tugging when I saw what was there-