Her pain and suffering was like my own. The longer it lasted the more I blamed myself. It was my fault. I was the one that started the process. It didn't matter that she was dying, because I was the one that ripped open my vein and let her drink. I was the one that bit her and released DNA altering venom into her blood. It was me.

Hours passed. Everyone but Jeremy and I had left the room.

Since Beth's heart had stopped for those few terrifying seconds neither of us moved more then three feet from the bed.

At that moment Beth lay on the bed- quite, still. I sat on the edge of the bed, my head down, elbows supported on my knees, and my forehead pressed to my palms. She had been quite for ten minutes.

Her heart still beat slowly.
"Is this normal? I can't go through this and have her die anyway."

Jeremy sat down at an angle that allowed him a view of both Beth and I.

"From what I understand it's harder for people that are seriously sick or gravely injured. You took three days to turn."

I looked up at him, stunned, horrified. Three days? How had he survived? I hadn't realized I had asked out loud until he answered me.

He smiled, "I love you as my daughter. And of course, I wanted you to survive but your not my mate, Alexis. I can not begin to understand the implications of this for you." He spoke with a kindness that filled my heart.

"I love you, Jeremy." The words jumped from my mouth. I held my breath waiting for a response, approval, acknowledg-ment, something. I should have known what to expect but I didn't.

"I know." He told me with a warm smile. He reached out and patted my shoulder. "I love you, too."

I knew that but deep down inside me where my past hide was not as knowing as the part of me that had known Jeremy these past centuries.

I noticed that the air felt heaver.

I lifted my head and scented the air. The faint smell of musk drifted on the air. "What?" I asked cautiously. I scanned the room but no one else had entered. "Jeremy?"

Looking at him I saw he noticed too. His brows were drawn together. His nostrils flaired. Sniffing around he leaned forward, toward Beth. His nostrils flaired franticly.

"It's Beth." He said. Before I could ask questions he was up and running. Beth and I were alone. He was right. The scent was coming from Beth. Her natural scent was there but this new scent of musk was mixed in with it.

I shifted my body. I stroked a finger over her cheek. Her skin was burning. I moved closer and drew her back into my lap.

I opened my mouth and started to speak but I suddenly wasn't alone.

"You need to move away from the bed, Alex." Breea said.

I looked up and gave her a look that said exactly what I thought of that.

"She's transforming. You have to move away." The clan chief said.

He didn't sound the least bit compassionant to me. He sounded like he had given a command. I took offence. I didn't like being commanded. The sound that emanated from my body was something like a hiss and growl mixed and intertwined.

It seemed that everyone had came down to the basement.

"Alex." Jeremy said, warning.

"Alex, any minute she is going to start her first shift. She can't control it. If you stay there," Breea said pointing, forlornly to the bed, "she may hurt you."

I shook my head. I didn't care. "I'll risk it. I'll be fine."

"No, you won't." The demanding werecat male said.

Breea look at him and placed a hand on his forearm.

"Alex," Breea said as a soft snapping noise cracked through the room. "Alex," she said quickly, her tone desperate now, "if she hurts you she will never forgive herself."

My memory supplied the image of the ripped and partially gutted mattress before it had been flipped over. I kissed Beth's forehead.

"Alex?" Stephano, Ann and Jeremy said almost in perfect unison. I ignored them.

I gently shifted Beth. I flinched as I heard a another bone snap.

I was thankful that she was unconscious. I hoped she didn't feel this. I knew how painful it was and I didn't want her to have to feel it.

"How long has she been unconscious?" Breea asked.

I shook my head. Jeremy answered. "About 10 to 20 minutes." 

"Then it seems my presents here is no longer needed." The  chief said. 

It took me a moment to realize that he expected Beth to die.

"Wait." Breea pleaded. He had turned away but her plea drew him  back.

"You know as well as I that it unlikely that she will wake after this long of unconsciousness, Breea.  I have duties I must attend to." he told her coldly.

"Ten more minutes?" Breea asked.

I started to move forward. I had intended to wake her. I would have shaken her if necessary but Jeremy and Stephano each grabbed me by an arm. I pulled against their grips but they refused to let go. I was screaming but I'm sure no actual words came out. I was unable to express my emotions with words.

This was the Fates fault. They caused this. It was not free will. They had played with our lives. Now she was going to die and I would be left adrift without her.

I yelled accusations at them. I told them that it was their fault. I told them they had no right to give me a mate only to snatch her away. I told them they had no right to let me love her so I could spend the rest of my life wanting her. I hurled accusation after accusation.

At some point I felt the floor under my knees. Hands stroked my back trying to console me. I continued my weeping stream of accusations to the Fates.

I don't know how long I accused them before I started begging in desperation.

"Please. Please. Please, don't do this. I beg you please. I'm sorry for whatever I've done that this is my punishment. I'll trade placed with her if you'll only let me. Please. She had so little time here. Don't take her, don't take her."

I realized I was kneeling in a white room. The carpet of grass so white and fluffy it looked like powdered snow. There were five chez lounge chairs arranged around me. The white columns gleemed. The sky above us was a pale blue. The trees that stood sentinel were almost abcent of color.

I was not alone. A child sat on one of the lounges. She was barefoot, her feet drawn up to sit as a kindergartener. Her white dress puddled around her. Her elbows rested on her knees. Her chin sat on her lightly fisted hands. She stared at me quizzically, smiling her child's smile.

On the next lounge was a woman just a few years older than my human years. Her feet rested on the ground. Her ankles crossed. Her white dress showed her knees as it flowed in soft waves. She looked like a princess. She too looked at me but her expression was expectant.
By a third lounge chair stood a older woman that was more like a queen than any female I had ever seen. Her white toga like dress flowed like the cascade of a waterfall. She rested a hand lightly on the back of the lounge chair. Her beautiful face showed wrinkles of age. Her sharp eyes expressed knowledge, compassion, and a hint of distrust.

I vaguely wondered about the look of distrust.