"It's simple really," Georgia said, gesturing to each of the thirteen trays as she finished up her explanation. "You just need to sort everything depending on the symbol. Then it'll be sent through to be deciphered in the other room." She folded her arms, leaning back against the desk stacked with files upon files for her to sort. "This is your lot for today," she continued, pointing to all the files there. "I'll be buried behind them working on my own work, but feel free to ask any questions. That's what I'm here for."

"Alright," Lyra mumbled, tying back her untamed red locks as best she could. She spared a glance at Georgia's silky straight carrot-coloured ones, feeling a surge of jealousy all of a sudden. What she wouldn't give to have slightly more tameable hair... Humming under her breath, Lyra smiled. Her worries were completely different to what they had been a few days ago. It was oddly terrifying how quickly her life had changed.

It could change back just as quickly.

She prayed it didn't. Though she supposed she had more allies on her side this time around, as well as someone who might look for her if she vanished. Her gaze drifted over towards where Arrow's office was supposedly located. Silently, she wondered what Rylan was doing, mulling over whether his job was harder. Most likely, yes, given the simplicity of her task. She just needed to sort things, while he was busy leading everyone.

Lyra stared down at the document, quickly finding the three seemingly inconsequential dots arranged in a triangle. Her eyes snapped over to the tray, quickly finding the corresponding pattern. Then she was on to the next document just as quickly. It was oddly mind-numbing, the task given to her, but Lyra completed it with gusto. She had a job there, so she'd do it. There was no room for complaining. Anything was better than being stuck with those rogues who'd tormented her.

A ring of a phone startled her out of the daze she'd fallen into. She glanced over, finally able to see Georgia thanks to the amount of files she had sort in the – she looked at the clock on the wall above – last two hours. "Lyra." The sound of her name had her snapping to attention. Georgia stared at her, brown eyes unblinking. "You're needed in Arrow's office."

"Where?" She blinked.

Georgia nodded, having expected the question. "Back to where I first met you, then follow the corridor. His office has his name on the door."

"Right," Lyra said, hurrying out of the room. It was almost ingrained in her – the compulsion to follow orders. "The door with his name on it..." she mumbled, trekking through the corridor, swallowing harshly at the sound of her footsteps against the carpet floor. They sounded noisier than usual, the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Why had she been called to his office? Lyra hoped she hadn't done anything wrong already.

The door was impossible to miss, the metallic silver lettering standing out against the polished black paint. His namesake underlined the words, and it would point in towards his office as soon as she opened the door. Like a sign pointing her to her doom. Swallowing, she twisted the handle, sticking her head into the room.

"You asked to see me?" she inquired, stiffening when she realised neither Arrow or Rylan were alone anymore. When they had arrived, Lyra had no clue. There had been no fuss as far as she had heard, and there really should have been for those of their status.

Elders. The previous group of alphas. The only living ones, thanks to the unrest during the time of the generation of alphas before them. That was about as much as she knew about the history of their kind. Her lessons on anatomy and the like hadn't allowed time for history to squeeze its way in there.

There were two of them, one of hair of the blackest night, the other with hair like snow. Like frost. Lyra shuddered, pushing away the thoughts. The echoing sound of his laughter.

"That's right," Arrow acknowledged. "Sorry to take you away from the work you were no doubt enjoying," he said, the sly grin on his lips letting her know he knew exactly how tedious her job was. "But it seems we have some more questions regarding... your illustrious past."

Lyra stiffened, spine as straight as a board as she urged her legs to move. She would need to sit down for this, because something about the atmosphere of the room told her it would be a long conversation.

"Are you alright?" Rylan peered at her – having materialised at her side in an instant – his hand resting on her shoulder. Touch came so easily to him. Lyra supposed his childhood had something to do with it. Goddess knew her own slight hesitance came from the same place. Her hand went to her neck almost instinctively—

The cold slice of a blade. Bone crunching. Blood gurgling—

"And let's stop right there..." Rylan mumbled, larger hands surrounding her own before they could scratch at her neck like they usually did. "We can delay these questions if you want..."

Arrow cleared his throat pointedly. "Blythe and Zen went out of their way to come here—"

"They can come again later. It's more than simple enough thanks to Blythe," Rylan said, letting go of one of her hands to twist his body to hide her from the rest of the room's occupants. "She's still getting settled here."

"Ugh." Arrow rolled his eyes. "If I ever wind up that"—he waved in Rylan's direction, storming back towards his desk—"protective of my mate, then please shoot me and save me the embarrassment of realising how much of an overprotective imbecile I've become."

A low chuckle reverberated around the room, and Lyra peeked out from behind her mate, swallowing nervously as the black-haired elder stood. Dark blue eyes, like the colour of the deepest ocean, flickered between her and Rylan. "So the little fish is finally growing a spine," he murmured. "Seems like finding your mate has done you some good."

"Blythe," Rylan greeted cordially, but the taller man was already striding around him – attention fixed on her.

Frowning, he walked closer, and Lyra fought the overwhelming urge to back away. He reminded her of a wolf stalking its prey. At least until he reached out and grabbed her jaw, moving his own face closer to peer at her own. "Now..." he spoke, confusion lacing his voice as those blue eyes bore into her boring brown ones. He was too close. "Why does this face of yours look so familiar, I wonder?" Ignoring Rylan's determined glare, he turned her face from side to side, inspecting her keenly. "Curious."

"Leave the poor child alone already," the white-haired man called, still hunched over where he sat on one of the sofas in the centre of the room. "I would prefer it if we could hurry and get what we came for... The sooner I find him, the better."

Lyra turned to look at the white-haired elder as best she could – despite the hand still clutching at her face. She was hardly a child anymore. Why had she been called there, she wondered. What did the white-haired elder want with her past?

But when he turned, the answer became obvious enough. His face was too similar. Those pale blue eyes were the same as his. Those lips so similar to his, only they weren't curved into a manic grin. Her heart thudded in her chest, and it was only the tightening grip on her chin which grounded her there, echoes of laughter ringing in her ears as she gasped. "Breathe," Blythe ordered, eyes narrowed as he scowled something fierce, pulling her attention onto him instead of the ghost of her past. The same one which wouldn't stop haunting her. It was like the sound of his laughter had been engraved in her brain.

"Zen—"

The white-haired elder – Zen – laughed hopelessly. It sounded so different to his. "A child's misdeeds can often be traced back to their parents," Zen spoke. "My son has hurt you. Deeply. For that I apologise." He closed his eyes, hands covering his face as he sucked in a long breath. "I still don't know where I went wrong with him."

"You didn't go wrong with that brat," Blythe muttered. "Actually, I lie. You should've been tougher on him when he came out of juvie."

Zen shook his head. "He shouldn't have gone there in the first place."

"Like I was saying – you're too soft on him."

Zen snarled. "And what would you know about parenthood?" he snapped, glaring at the other elder, and Lyra flinched back. "You haven't even found your mate yet."

"I practically raised Blu and the other little terrors who now run the Pack," Blythe muttered blithely. "That's parenthood right there."

Zen rolled his eyes. "That's different... not to mention Blu still flinches whenever you go near him," he said, sounding oddly petulant.

Arrow snickered.

"Ugh. Don't get me started on you, brat," Blythe grumbled, finally letting go of her face to go and plop himself back down on the sofa. "You were a little nightmare."

"Who followed you everywhere," Zen said with a smirk despite the glare sent his way, sounding decidedly calmer than before.

"Let's just get on with what we came here for," he said, pointing at the seat opposite him as he turned to stare at her. "Get over here, red. You too, little fish," he added, waving Rylan over. "We don't actually need to ask any questions, so stop looking like you're going to bodily remove us from the room – you wouldn't succeed in it in the first place."

Grunting in annoyance, Rylan guided her over to the sofa, seating himself down next to her with a glare aimed at the pair opposite them. "So," Lyra began, looking less nervous than she actually felt. "What can I help you with?"

"All Zen needs is some of your blood," Blythe said. "Then his gift will do the rest, and we'll be a step closer to finding Frost."

"Frost," Lyra echoed, blinking dumbly. "His name is actually Frost? That wasn't a codename?"

"Nope," Blythe murmured, pointing at his companion. "You can blame this idiot for his lack of skill with naming his children."

"Child," Zen corrected. "I only have one child, in case you forgot."

Blythe ignored his words, turning to her instead. "So," he said. "Your hand, if you would."

Gingerly, Lyra held her hand out, eyeing the pair of them warily. A hand crept around her back, sliding around her waist to land in her lap. Her gaze flickered over to Rylan, and she startled at the feel of his hand almost clawing at her stomach. It didn't feel wrong.

The bond purred.

Rylan growled lowly, chest vibrating softly as Zen took her hand, and Lyra almost rolled her eyes. The joys of having a possessive mate, she mused, gently pressing her free hand over his own. Though she couldn't deny she didn't mind either his possessiveness or his touch. Partially the work of the bond no doubt.

"My apologies," Zen said, revealing a pair of sharp canines hidden behind his thin lips.

It was no worse than a pinprick, and Blythe already had the disinfectant and a plaster handy. Not that she really needed them. "Calm down, little fish," he said, wrapping the plaster over her finger all the while. "I know you probably wanted to be the first to bite her, but the information we needed was more pressing of an issue."

Rylan sighed. "I know," he murmured, and Lyra was fairly certain she saw the beginnings of a pout. "Doesn't mean I enjoyed watching another break her skin."

"Then you should probably be glad you don't have my gift," Zen mumbled, a faraway look in his eyes.

Lyra stared at him, throat dry as she began to have an inkling of what his ability was. She prayed she was wrong – she didn't want anyone else to see. "What is your... ability?" she asked, stiffening even as Rylan's hand shifted to capture her own in his warm grasp.

"Oh, it's a blood-based ability, in case you hadn't guessed," Blythe answered for him, shifting on his seat to face them once again. "It's why he has rather prominent canines – something fairly common amongst blood-based abilities. There are a few conditions regulating his, but it's falls under the category of psychometry." He shrugged. "He can see memories when he consumes the blood of living creatures. How much depends on how fresh the blood is."

Lyra froze, understanding the haunted look in Zen's eyes in an instant. She never should have let him taste her blood. "Oh," she mumbled, shrinking back away from those blue eyes which stared at her in sorrow.

"I don't think any number of apologies in the world can make up for what my... son did to you," he said, rising to his feet slowly, looking terribly pale as he did so. "I'll keep what I saw to myself, you have my word on that. But"—Zen paused in front of the door—"Rylan... you should probably hug her a lot. Goddess knows she deserves it."

Lyra stood, determinedly looking away from the elder. "I should get back to work," she said blankly. He knew. Her fingers went to her neck, nails scraping at the soft skin there. "You don't need anything else from me, do you?"

Arrow shook his head. "No, but are you sure you're in any state to—"

"I'm fine," she hissed, scratching as though she could get rid of the cold steel blade she could still feel digging into her neck. Why couldn't the memories leave her alone already?

"The scratching says otherwise," Blythe declared, but Lyra was already storming towards the door. She just needed to work. To numb her mind with the boredom of sorting papers. Maybe then the feeling would vanish.

Arms came around her, pulling her back before she could reach the door. She found herself spun around in an instant, her face pressed up against a warm, familiar chest. "I don't know what Zen saw," Rylan began, tucking his chin atop her frizzy red hair. "But I take the words of my elders very seriously – so expect lots more hugs, alright?"

Lyra blinked, sinking almost bonelessly into the comforting arms of her mate. It didn't make everything OK... but it helped.

Rylan smiled down at her, letting his arms drop back to his side, and Lyra wasted no time in hurrying out the door. There was heat in her cheeks, and the feeling of his arms wrapped around her which followed her through the corridor even as the conversation continued on behind her.

Blythe arched an eyebrow. "You take the words of your elders very seriously now, do you?"

Rylan blushed. "Shut it, old man."