As if reading my predictions, the man follows them, charging like a bull possessed.

I make no effort to move. Only watch as his body flies like a bullet towards mine.

Time slows as my enemy comes closer and closer to frozen figure. He takes a lunge, going airborne and with intent of taking me to the ground.

Close enough now that his hot breath fans on my motionless, statue-like face, only a second's time stands between now and our collision.

Yet my muscles still don't react, not even displaying the slightest twitch of response to the situation. And with a full millisecond to spare, my need to reciprocate physical action is no longer necessary.

An inch from the end of my nose and his form is swept from my view, a black and grey blur hitting him like an unhalting freight train and generating a gust of air with it as it blows past.

My hair covers my face, disheveled by unnatural wind.

Lips tilting upward slightly, I grin. For the first time since I was given these scars, a small smile graces my face; and this one not in sadistic satisfaction, but rather of... happiness.

He came.

Snarls fill my ears, full of nothing but unaltered, searing hatred. Two bodies-- one wolf, and one human-- roll across the ground, dark trickles of red marking where they'd been. And a certain feeling tells me that the blood didn't come from the wolf.

Usually my instincts would scream nothing else at me but to protect Asher, to take the burden of the fight from my Lifeblood. But something now tells me let him have the kill, to let the victory go to him instead.

Only a mere handful of seconds succeeding their initial contact, Asher has his opponent pinned as if he were wrestling with a child.

Rustling coming from within the forest draws my attention, as does the breaking of sticks on the ground, and the pounding of multiple footfalls.

Reinforcements.

Alarms go off inside my head, all of them flashing red and bringing nothing but indefinite danger. Adrenaline fills my veins as air does my lungs, taking over my actions on instinctive accord.

"ASHER!" My voice cracks with the suddenness of my deafening shout, and despite the falter, still succeeds in gaining his attention.

His head raises in nerve-splitting panic at the distressed scream of his mate, and the span of a single heartbeat, his body is in front of me, ready to act as a living barricade.

Before my form takes on that of an oversized wolf, I say the one simple word that chisels off pieces of my pride and eats away at my dignity.

"Run."

Our paws beat in no particular sync and our legs move in no designated rhythm. My tail remains straight, refusing to tuck, and my head is held high, denying the shame its yearning to weigh down my shoulders.

Yet no matter the consequences, no matter the situation, there is still no grace in fleeing.

.

.

.

Sitting on the edge of Asher's navy blue clad bed, my posture stands straight, allowing for him to clean the dried blood from my now unscathed chest.

The walls surrounding my every direction are painted a dark shade of blue, the floor a deep mahogany with nightstands placed on each side of the bed to match. A large window adorned with blue plaid drapes allows crystal clear visual of the forest outside.

He lifts the damp cloth away, its once white appearance now stained with the familiar rust color of aged gore. Without turning, he tosses the rag over his shoulder, landing it perfectly within the bin placed in the corner, purposelessly proving to me that the layout of the room is memorized into his mind.

His eyes gaze down at me from his standing position, the unconventional blue of them grasping my attention and refusing to let go. Many things are swirling within their depths; sadness, anger, confusion, curiosity.

"I need answers, Amber."

It had to come to an end. A timer was set on me the moment Asher's scent drifted through the silver bars of that cell. Whether that timer was ticking for my identity's secret or for my blissful time with my Lifeblood I have yet to know.

I can't look at him. Not under my circumstances. Not with the suspicion of hiding something labeled on me as clear as day-- and with that label being true.

The childish side of me, the one that had never died through all the years of raising myself, convinces me of a fictional solution. If I don't face him, I won't have to make a decision. I won't have to face reality. But I know that's only a desired concept cruelly waved in front of me, the sole purpose of it to tease me.

"Look at me."

No.

"Look at me, Amber."

I won't lose you, too.

"Now," after three attempts, his voice turns firm, his patience with my disobedience used up and threw out like rotted trash.

With every ounce of self-control contained within my being, my head remains turned to the side, and my emerald eyes closed tightly, withholding unshed tears behind their lids.

Don't cry. Don't be weak. Don't be the child left alone in the woods to die, not again.

Gentle fingers touch my chin, gingerly tilting my head to expose my face to him.

"Answer me, Ambie. Please."

Don't beg.

"Please."

Unable to endure any longer, my eyes open, the tears not daring to slip for him to see or me to feel.

The words told to me seven years ago resurface in my mind, holding up my strong front like a steel wall.

Survivors aren't weakened.

Incapable of lying to him, my voice responds, low and defeated.

He gets the truth of the truth.

"I can't tell you."

Regardless of his attempts to hide it, the hurt is visible in his eyes.

Hurt caused by my blood. No matter what, everything comes back on exactly that; my blood. Death, carnage, gore, hurt, pain; it all falls back on the blood in my veins.

Asher steps back, that one step like a knife in my chest. His hands are taken away from my face, denying me any contact.

"I'm sorry," my apology is immediate, feeling the physical pain of rejection find joy in twisting my insides like a wet rag and filling my heart with black acid.

"You should sleep," is his only response, and this time, it is he that refuses to look at me.

With no justifiable way to stop him, he walks towards the door. The toned back going farther and farther away from me once caused me happiness in knowing I didn't have to lust for it, that it was given to me by fate. But now it only causes me heart wrenching pain in knowing I was no longer allowed to touch it, not when its owner's hurt is caused by me.

He stops in the doorway, his hand flicking off the switch on the wall to throw a blanket of shadows over the room.

The light from the hall illuminates his figure, even his inerrant silhouette desirable.

"I'll find out one way or another, but the truth will come from you first."

The door shuts behind him, cutting out all light from the room except that of the dying sunset leaking through the window.

The hot tears held in my eyes seem to boil, and my muscles seem to lose any purpose to function.

With nothing left for me to do, I follow his last cold suggestion, knowing no way else to interact with him but to obey him.

My legs, numb of feeling, stand me up, almost robotic in motion due to the lack of thought put in. Sitting back down towards the head of the bed, my lower half is slid under the covers.

Resting my head down on his pillow, all that fills my senses is his scent, only worsening my agony and twisting my insides tighter.

Laying there, staring pointlessly at the window, and watching as night falls and the moon rises, I'm left alone. Left alone with the guilt, the suffering, and the torture of my Lifeblood's displeasure. Torture that would eventually take my will to live away if lasting long enough.

As the shadows around me grow darker with the disappearance of the sun, the markings upon my wrist and neck begin to shine, illuminating the room in a silver light.

My gaze stays for a moment on the moon's image, one-fourth full to indicate the phase of the waning gibbous in the sky. Ripping my eyes from the living pictures carved into my skin, the duvet is pulled up to my chin, an act that conceals both of the markings.

Not once in my life has shame ever befell upon my identity. Even hiding it for half of my sixteen years of life just to keep from being slaughtered for it, repentance has never been felt towards what I am. But this time feels different. To hide my true self from my Lifeblood is different than the times before.

The secret is to blame for Asher's pain, for my agony. But a secret I must keep. And the truth of the secret I will bitterly love until my dying second.

///

A/N:
Holy crap it feels like forever since I update but I'm still on schedule so idk why XD.

Speaking of updating schedules, do you guys think I should change mine. I'm considering going back to the 5 days. A week just seems so long. Tell me what you think.

As I said earlier this was edited quickly and when I was super tired so I can't guarantee quality right now but I'll edit it better later, I promise.

Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!