Their guard never dropped.

They'd remained vigilant both on the way to the office she now found herself in and even after they were all seated – well, nearly all of them. Thorn stood close by the door, arms folded, expression stern as a heavy silence settled in the air. Nervous, Lyra fiddled with the hem of the overly large shirt she wore. It didn't come as much of a surprise to her that her clothes had been changed, having been 'unaware' for the past week or so. It probably would've been worse on her nose had she been wearing the same outfit for days on end.

She hated imprinting – the downside of her ability when used it more than she should've – since she had to use someone to recharge. Her power was like a loan borrowed from the moon, and it was one she had to repay in full. Perhaps that was why she had been so cautious against using it right then and there to escape. She didn't want to spend another week mentally shackled to any alpha again, mate or not.

Rylan had walked by her side, close enough that she could easily reach out and grab his hand, but not touching her thankfully. He respected her personal space, and for that Lyra found herself slowly coming to tolerate his presence at her side. He was still at her side even then, sitting in the seat next to her own, whilst Blu and the other alpha took the small settee opposite them.

"Here." Rylan held out a blanket, smiling at her all the while.

Lyra folded her arms, pointedly looking away from him. "I'm not that cold."

"You're still a bit cold, and"—he looked away, cheeks reddening—"that shirt doesn't cover all that much."

"So don't look if it's so distracting," she grumbled.

Rylan pouted ever so slightly. "Could you just accept the blanket, please?" he asked, eye twitching when she ignored him.

Really, she ought to have expected the blanket to be unfurled and thrown over her legs moments after – but she was still confused and had other things to be focusing on, so she startled at the feel of the fluffy blanket covering her exposed skin.

"Just keep it," Rylan mumbled gruffly, looking determinedly ahead, and Lyra pulled the blanket around herself as she brought her knees to her chest.

"And if we're done with this drama, then perhaps you could answer some questions for us, Miss Lyra?" Blu spoke, arms folded, expression unamused as he looked between them both. "The first is a rather simple one: what exactly is your full name?"

Lyra shrugged, uncomfortable with the stares directed her way as she sat there, fiddling with her recently acquired blanket.

"You will not help yourself by refusing to answer."

Her shoulders sunk, and she let out a huff. He was right, she admitted to herself. There was no point in hiding the information which might secure her freedom – or at least lighten her punishment. "If I had one, I've long since forgotten it. Lyra is the only name I remember. They used to just call me Eighteen all the time when I worked for them..."

"They, being Omega Taurus?" Blu questioned.

Reluctantly, Lyra nodded, silently wishing she could be anywhere but there as Rylan's eyes locked on her frozen form. She could see the emotions playing across his face – really, he was an open book – showing shock, horror, concern, and a revulsion that made the marking on her neck sting a little.

It seemed the bond was already coming into play, and it wanted to bring them closer. There was no surprise that the revulsion would make it sting. She would definitely have to get some cream for it, as some women had to, especially if she somehow managed to escape imprisonment in one form or another. Though with the stare Blu was directing her way, Lyra wasn't all that hopeful. He didn't look merciful in the slightest, although perhaps that was more to do with his naturally stern face, Lyra mused.

"Did you work for them willingly?" The alpha she couldn't recognise sat forwards all of a sudden. "Oh, and could you give me your hand?"

Blinking, Lyra glanced down at her injured hand, noting the knives were still stuck there. It probably spoke volumes of her pain tolerance that she hadn't complained about them. "No," she said, ensuring her voice didn't quiver as the memories rushed to the forefront of her mind. Remembering what she'd been through to gain her pain tolerance still gave her nightmares. "I did not," she spoke, offering out her hand to the alpha, blinking when he pulled out a medical kit from under the coffee table separating them.

"I see," Blu mumbled. "Though I suppose it's no surprise. Eighteen is not the name of—"

"Just the name of a tool," Lyra muttered, blinking as a numbing paste was applied to her wounds. Was he the Alpha of Healing? she wondered, soon turning her attention back to Blu.

"How young were you when you were taken?"

She closed her eyes. "Eight."

"And your current age?" Blu queried.

"Eighteen."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Rylan relaxing and she raised an eyebrow at him. She hardly looked that young, did she? Her height was perfectly average for her age, and it might have been slightly taller than average if she thought about it. She hadn't really had much to compare with, and access to the internet was rather limited in the forest and her cold, barren cell.

"Ten years ago then..." He bit his lip, glancing over at Rylan. "Well... I guess that means I'll have to contact Lucian and Blythe, since it happened during their reign."

"Does your ability have a healing factor to it?" the pink-eyed alpha questioned all of a sudden, ignoring the way Blu glared at him for the interruption. "These wounds should've been worse, but they won't even need stitches..." he said, wrapping a bandage securely around her hand as he held it in front of him.

Lyra shrugged. "I've never really experimented all that much with my gift," she muttered, glaring at him witheringly – ignoring the way those pink eyes of his seemed to bore into her. They whispered things, ancient things, and that purple hair... She shivered, hairs rising on her free hand as the sparks came to life unbidden underneath her skin. They crackled around her arm, and Lyra watched them out of the corner of her eye. They were a bright red colour, as they always were, but something felt wrong. "I didn't exactly have much of an opportunity to," she said, continuing as if her gift hadn't suddenly activated out of the blue. Those pink eyes stared into her own, hands releasing her wrist and Lyra twitched at the sudden lull in the whispering. But she could feel them glaring into her, staring down at her from behind, like a tiger eyeing up its next meal. It was like there was some greater power staring down at her with bright purple—not pink—eyes. Eyes that exerted a kind of pressure which made one want to kneel or, preferably, curl up into a ball and pray not to be seen.

Purple sparked in place of red, her arm twitching all of a sudden, and then the whispers were back full force.

A hand clamped about her sparking wrist, chasing both the whispers and her lightning away. "I think that's enough," Thorn spoke, crimson eyes narrowed on her own. The sparks vanished from around her, locked back up under her skin where they were meant to be. Her bandaged hand went to her head and the sudden ache she could feel there – the image of purple eyes replaced by the familiar red ones. Red was a safer colour than purple, especially the crimson colour. Crimson was the string of fate. Her gaze darted over to Rylan. The thread said to bind mates together.

Lyra looked away determinedly. "Next question?" she grumbled, suddenly wanting their little questioning session to be over and done with. The pink-eyed alpha unnerved her for some reason, and she wasn't entirely sure why. She didn't think she even wanted to find out. The sooner she was away from the madness that were alphas, the better. Even if the king of them all happened to be her mate.

"We'll need to investigate more into your past to get a better idea of the situation," Blu said, biting his lip, deep in thought. "For the time being we will keep you close by—"

"But—!"

Blu scowled, bright blue eyes glaring at her, and Lyra shrank in her seat as his pupils flickered between a slit with a sliver of gold at its core and the boring black pupils of a regular werewolf. "You didn't honestly think you could just up and vanish into thin air, did you?" he questioned, and Lyra felt appropriately cowed – both by his logical words and the eyes which made him what he was.

Alpha Eyes.

Eyes of those who were meant to lead – those with the golden thread woven into their tapestries of life. "You will be monitored from now on... and seeing as you don't currently have a job, I will give you one suited to your skill set."

Lyra blinked. "You're... giving me a job?"

One blue eyebrow rose. "Unless you would rather laze about in the castle?"

"I am not staying here," she grumbled, folding her arms as she felt those pale blue eyes belonging to her mate boring into her.

"If you accept this job you'll be given accommodation outside of this castle – but still within the premises, seeing as how you need to be monitored," Blu said, a sickly sweet smile on his face, and Lyra shivered. She remembered a smile so similar to that one, and what had followed it was nothing but agony. Her fingers went to her neck, scratching there desperately as she thought about those cold cold eyes and the mocking smile which haunted her worst nightmares.

"Shall we begin the lesson?"

"Lyra?" the voice sounded so far away. "Lyra! Lyra, stop!" Hands closed around her own, warm yet firm as they held her fingers far away from her burning neck. She could still feel the stinging burn of the knife as it dug deep into her fragile skin there. "Shhh... calm yourself..." that soothing voice continued, the owner of which pulling her face into something delightfully warm and soft.

Groggy, Lyra took a few moments to realise it was Rylan's chest she was nuzzling against – and the mate bond, the crimson string, which bound them together making her feel so safe and content there. It purred like a contented kitten with their closeness.

She leapt back with a yelp, wincing at the sting in her neck from her scratches. "Don't touch me," she snapped, pulling herself over to the other edge of the sofa and as far away from him and the eerie safeness he radiated.

"I'll arrange for Hunter to meet with her, Rylan," Blu said, and Rylan abruptly stopped edging closer towards her. "But for now we should get her settled in the Barracks and allow her to work under Arrow's Division."

Lyra turned back towards him, curious about her new accommodation and the division she would be working under. She hadn't exactly been expecting a job and reintroduction to normal society so swiftly. "Who's Arrow and what's his division in charge of?" she demanded, fidgeting in her seat as she silently debated whether it would be a better idea to stay or to run away the first chance she got.

She hadn't been thrown in another cell, nor had they harmed her all that much as of yet. It was safe there, or so was her opinion of the place. It might not have been too terrible to stay, she mused, warring with the distrust of figures of authority that had been drilled into her very bones.

The pink-eyed alpha smiled. "That would be me," he said, climbing to his feet along with the rest of them as they readied themselves to leave the comfortable office. "My division is in charge of gathering intelligence from a vast network set up by the alphas before me – though, like most people simply call Blu the Alpha of Judgement, most simply call me the Alpha of Assassination... though I prefer the term 'Alpha of Intelligence' since the situations we handle nowadays rarely result in anyone being offed, as most of my colleagues like to put it."

Thorn rolled his eyes, coming to her side as she stood. "You're hardly that intelligent, Row," he said, ignoring the glare sent his way. "You can introduce Lyra to the rest of your crew and explain the entirety of her new job tomorrow. We should get her settled in now."

"He's right – she hasn't a single thing to her name, so there's a lot we need to do before the day is out," Blu said, and Lyra blinked as a warm hand closed around her own.

Rylan stared down at their joined hands for a few moments, eyes drifting away as she opened her mouth to complain. "Just so you don't get lost or decide to wander off," he said, turning to face the door, pulling her along behind him as his ears reddened. "I'd prefer to hold your hand rather than dragging you around by the arm as Thorn did before."

Lyra scowled but refrained from complaining. At least by holding hands it felt a little less like she was being frogmarched to her impending doom.