Milena didn't care about him. He knew that and it was expected, but he couldn't help feeling a bitter taste in his mouth after that afternoon in London when he woke up in Daria's apartment and they were both gone. It felt like trust was slowly building up between them. Trust and a weird kind of intimacy. Trust that has always been so hard for him to build. 

He wanted to believe she had been forced to leave but there were no traces of any fight and she had even changed clothes to disguise her scent.

The most enraging thing was, besides the betrayal, that the damn girl had no idea what she was getting herself into. It was dangerous out there for her. Especially for her. 

Why should he try to protect somebody that was actively protesting against it, somebody that told him multiple times to go away?

He just had the misleading feeling that they were somehow getting close. She kissed him after all. But she was drunk when she did and he was being delusional.

That girl only caused problems in his life but so did Katharina, way bigger, world-shattering problems. It just felt like he was an idiot that didn't learn his lesson, not even after decades and the horrible aftermath of a big yet difficult love. 

In the grand scheme of things, Erik was uncertain why Kiril wanted the dagger. He had his own relic that was just as powerful, and he could not wield the weapons of the others anyway. The relics responded only to their true master. 

Kiril used that bizarre situation perfectly. Somebody that had his blood could apparently touch the weapon too. It was a keyhole-sized opportunity, and if he wasn't going to be stopped, the lunatic was going to squeeze his plan of world domination through it. 

It almost seemed like he had it all planned, waiting for him to mark Mila so he could do what he did.

Mila stepped out of the room. Her scent wasn't powerful and out of this world that day, but it still made him turn his head. He looked up and his eyes widened in surprise. She was wearing a dress and make-up and looked generally really pretty.

Even with his wolf dormant, his hand twitched minimally in the hardly disguised desire to touch her. One look at her town in Serbia, the building where she was living, and the knowledge of the abuse she suffered in the past made him feel for her.

Now they were bound together by necessity. He needed her to get the upper hand over Kiril, or else his pack would be in danger, and who knew who else. Kiril was a ticking bomb. Erik knew how it felt having nothing to lose, and Kiril had been on his own his whole life.

"Let's go," said Mila.

Her voice sounded plainly sweet to him, despite or maybe because of her sharp accent.

He acknowledged, that even totally human he seemed to feel some sort of attachment towards her.

She clicked her seatbelt closed and didn't usher a word the whole drive. She was not looking at him and acted again as her usual reluctant self. All the surprising enthusiasm from earlier had vanished.

It was fine; if she wanted her version of a business relationship she could have it.

Her phone started ringing, disrupting the otherwise uncomfortable silence. It was an ancient thing, heavy and with a broken screen. It rang for minutes but she did not seem to want to pick up.

"Don't you want to get that?" Erik's tone came out more irritated than intended. 

"No."

"Who is it?"

"What do you care?"

"I hope it's not the police."

"We are past that point. I am aware you could murder a whole patrol without even sweating," said Mila in the cranky tone she used to speak to him in England.

"Good. So answer or turn it off; it irritates me."

"You sound like Kiril," said Mila, rolling her eyes and pressing the answer button on her phone.

"да/Yes."

Erik didn't understand or speak Serbian but Mila's tone was ambiguous.

...

"Када? Где је он? Да ли је добро?/When? Where is he? Is he all right?"

It was a clear shift in her tone. Now she sounded almost frightened.

"Ја, не знам могу ли доћи./ I... I don't know if I can come."

...

"Мама, молим те. Жао ми је. Не, ја .../ Mama, please. I am sorry. No, I ..."

Her voice broke and she started sobbing.

Gods, he hated to see women cry. He hated seeing her cry.

"What happened?" asked Erik. His voice sounded harsh, harsher than he intended.

"My dad got beat up at the bar he usually gets drunk at. He is at the hospital. My mother wants well ... money. I... Don't know what to do; I guess you are not keen on me going there now."

She looked at him with those teary eyes. They were such a beautiful shade of green, emphasized by the redness and glistering tears. 

"Milena, if you want something you can start by asking. Do you want us to go see your father?"

"Yes, please..." she said in a smooth tone, almost whispering. Sighing, Erik told the driver to change directions. 

They reached the hospital one hour later. So much for not coming back. Mila had continued being silent, staring out the window the whole drive.

"Can you wait in the car, please? I will not run away, I promise."

Erik nodded and she left the car looking utterly broken. As far as he knew, her relationship with her father was not the best. He gave her those horrendous scars Erik remembered too well. Still, she seemed to care about him. Erik wondered genuinely how that was possible. it made him remember his own father and their very strained relationship. Hate was an understatement for what he felt towards him. He was not proud but also didn't regret his death; he deserved it for how he treated everybody.

In the corner of his eye, Erik saw a familiar figure enter the hospital building. An Asian man. There were not many Asian men in a small town in Serbia. That was Nachin, Kiril's Beta and that meant trouble.

Without thinking, Erik stormed into the building searching for Mila. Not having his supernatural sense of smell was really bothersome at that brief moment.

Nachin was out of sight. Erik had to find Mila before he would. Being purely human also made the calling of the mark barely noticeable. Luckily it was not a big hospital. Luck, providence or beast senses brought him to her within minutes. 

Mila was staring teary-eyed at a woman who was screaming at her in Serbian.

The woman was probably her mother. They had the same pale complexion, similar features, and the same golden hair, just that the mother seemed more mundane and had no warmth in her eyes as Mila did.

The woman struck her across the face in the same place she had that ugly bruise that Kiril gave her. The blow reverberated in Erik's body.  His vision was cloudy with anger and when the woman raised her arm for a second blow he couldn't stop himself from catching her wrist. 

"No." It was the only thing he could bring over his lips. 

"Erik... I" Mila was speechless, staring at him with the same hypnotic eyes that didn't allow him to hold her gaze for long earlier in the car. 

The woman yanked her arm away and looked him up and down.

"Да ли је то руски гангстер? Дошао је по тебе?/Is that the Russian gangster? He came for you?" said Petra to Mila in Serbian, giving him a look of undisguised mischief he had come to know through the decades. 

"Erik, leave. I just need ten more minutes."

"Mila, Kiril is probably here; we have to go."

Mila's face went pale. She was clearly afraid of Kiril.

"Мама, морам да идем. Наћи ћу начин да платим рачуне, али морам сада да одем./ Mama, I have to leave. I will find a way to pay the bills but I have to leave now."

"Нема шансе, прошли пут се нисам чуо са вама три месеца, нити сам видео новац/ No way! Last time I didn't hear from you for three months, neither did I see any money," said Petra grabbing her hair.

"You. If want daughter, you pay money," she said in English looking at Erik.

That woman really seemed to want to sell her daughter off to a stranger without blinking. His whole being was invaded by an avalanche of feelings: rage, pity, pain.

He took out his wallet and pressed all the cash he had furiously into Petra's hand. It had to be about a thousand pounds.

"That should be enough," he said grabbing Mila's arm. "We are leaving now!"

Petra looked at the foreign money dumbfounded and smiled slightly.

"If want sex, more money," she said.

Erik felt the blood rushing to his head. He was happy it was New Moon because else he probably would not have been able to stop his claws and fangs from popping out.

How could that woman behave the way she did? It was her daughter.

"Can I say goodbye to dad?" asked Mila.

"Be quick." Erik knew it was likely a bad idea, but he didn't want to deny her and giver yet another reason to be sad that evening. 

He followed her into the room. Five men were sharing the same space. He almost forgot how horrible hospitals were in some countries.

The one that appeared to be Mila's father was bruised badly and seemed to have a concussion.

"Тата, идем сада, морам да радим. Мама ће се побринути за тебе, бићеш добро. Молим вас понашајте се и не радите ово више никада./ Daddy I will go now; I have to work. Mom will take care of you. You are going to be fine. Please behave and don't do this ever again."

Erik didn't understand what she said but she seemed to harbor affection towards him judging from the way she looked and spoke to him.

"We have to leave," he said, touching her arm.

"Ко је то?/ Who is that?" said the man.

"Мој шеф/My boss ..."

"Лажљивче, ти си попут своје мајке/ Liar. You are just like your mother. A whore."

Whatever that man said, it seemed to affect her. Tears gathered again in her eyes and she walked away finally and got into the car without saying another word. 

The whole drive she kept silent, just whipped the occasional tear away.

Erik wondered what she was feeling. He felt for her, thinking of how her life must have looked with the parents she had.

"Mila ..."

"Don't. I don't want your pity." She sounded angry.

He only noticed how angry and affected she was when she opened her clenched fists to untie her seatbelt and saw the blood on her hands. She pressed her nails so deeply into the palms that they pierced the skin.

"Fuck, now I stained the damn dress. I always damage everything. I'll pay for it, ok? And for the cash you gave my mother."

She slammed the car door shut and walked into the house. Maybe he should just let her be on her own for a while until she calmed down. But was it what she needed? Was it what he wanted?

Certainly not. Nature conditioned him to not be able to be passive to her suffering. Was it nature? Was it the mating bond or was it just that he didn't want to?

"Mila, wait," he said grabbing her wrist before she could close the door to her room.

"What? What do you want to tell me, Erik? How inconvenient I am, how pathetic my life is? How I fail at everything and have nothing good in me or in my life? Just leave me be, I am exhausted..."

"No... I..."

He pulled her in his arms. It was an impulse; he could not help it.

"I want to help," he said, lifting her chin to look at her eyes framed by tear-scattered mascara.

"Okay, then help me forget for an instant," she said and kissed him on the lips. It was a strange kiss, not really coy but full of clutter messy emotions. 

He couldn't... He wouldn't... But it felt so good even woven with desperation and pain and brought into life for all the wrong reasons. It was so divine and he wanted to indulge in it just a little bit ...

He also knew that she would be very hurt if he rejected her now.

Just a little bit... So he hugged her and kissed her properly, looking into her eyes and tracing the lines of her back. She was so seductively fragile it was killing him. In that instant, he was dying to give her everything: safety, happiness, his devotion, and his soul...

He was human and he still felt all that.

Mila's hands wandered under his t-shirt. He was surprised and amazed by the way it felt, forbidden and right at the same time. It was explosive and he was craving more.

"Take it off..." said Mila and kissed him stormy, needy, and oh-so-tempting.

He was human; he was not going to hurt her if he slept with her now. He would not claim her if his wolf was dormant. So he could indulge, just a little bit...

It felt like that night in the woods like his soul was not aching anymore.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Yes, I want to feel something that is not pain for an instant."