The clock was going to strike midnight in twenty minutes and Vincent was just now walking in the house. I could hear his footsteps downstairs. Did he think I was asleep? I couldn't tell if he was being cautious or not. He wasn't walking as loud as he normally did.

My right hand was on the knob. I stood completely still, listening for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. And I waited. I waited until he was closer. The floors outside my door began to creak. He was passing my room. Was this a good idea? I didn't know anymore. It was too late to question it though. I was already flinging the door open and stumbling out.

"Happy birthday," I blurted. Vincent's body stiffened.

I thought he would have continued walking, but his hand curved around the doorknob to his bedroom, unmoving. He turned his head and shot me a look. There was a brief moment of silence between us. He tilted his head and eyed my face.

"Claudia told you, didn't she?" Though he phrased it like a question, I knew it wasn't one.

I scratched the back of my head, avoiding his eyes.

Finally, I heard him sigh. "You don't need to acknowledge the day, Genesis. . . You don't even have to say the words."

"Hmm, maybe you're right. After all, you did have me chained to a radiator. Perhaps, I should take my happy birthday back then. I'm not sure you deserve my kindness," I feigned.

Vincent perched himself against his bedroom door, his heavy stare never leaving me. "You don't even have to say the words . . . but thank you for saying the words. . ." His arms were crossed, and the bottom of his right foot was leant on the door.

"Oh? That's more like it." There was a smile sewn into my words.

"You didn't let me finish," he said, chuckling.

"Ah, but it got you to lighten up though, didn't it?" I wagged my eyebrows at him.

"Lighten up? You've got a weird perception of me." He scoffed.

"I'm just trying to do whatever it takes to get on your good side." I winked at him.

"Just so you know, I've been seriously contemplating putting you on a bedtime curfew. I think I will, starting tonight."

"A curfew to go to sleep? Like locking me in the room again?" My eyes shot wide open.

"That isn't exactly what I had in mind. But that can be arranged." He shrugged.

"No! Not allowed! I am an adult. You'll have to force my cold, dead body."

He copied my wink. "That can be arranged as well."

"Darn. You're still good looking with an attitude that sucks," I mumbled. "All of you are wicked. The whole lot of you." I heard him snigger at me.

We were welcomed with the cold draft breezing through the hallway. It numbed my legs for a second, but I shook it off, shifting on my feet. If we stood here in complete silence any longer, I just might have crumbled.

I took a cautious step forward. "Um, are you going to sleep now?"

"I might," was his only response.

"There's," I drifted off, checking my phone, "fifteen minutes left of your birthday."

"So?" He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Just wondering what you were going to do if you're not going to sleep."

"Someone's still as nosey as ever." I couldn't tell if that was teasing in his tone or if he was being serious. But the faint smirk on his face was leaning more towards teasing.

"Hmm yeah, on second thought, you don't deserve my compassion, after all. I should just go to bed and leave you here to suffer," I mocked him with a yawn.

Vincent snorted. The smirk on his face fell into a weak lingering smile that barely covered his face. He slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor. I watched him pull his phone out and tap the screen.

"There's ten minutes left." He flashed me the time on his screen. "Will you sit with me for the rest of my birthday then?"

"You want me to . . . sit with you? Are you serious?"

"You might as well. This is only a one-time offer. I wouldn't expect anything more."

I mumbled while walking towards him, "If this is still your way of being kind to me, I just want you to know, you still suck at it."

"Whoever said anything about being kind?" He cackled under his breath.

I pulled my oversized shirt over my knees as I plopped down onto the floor. I'd made sure I was sitting beside him, but a few feet away, with my back to the wall. There was a dumbfounded expression on my face as I stared at him. He was staring ahead.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He sighed.

"Looking at you like what?" I touched my face with both of my hands.

"Like . . . never mind," he said, shaking his head.

I stared at him again. It was hard to tell what he was thinking at this moment. I'd established a few of his traits. When he was alone, he was much different than when he was around other people. Less worried. More comfortable. Sure, he wasn't as overwhelmingly nice to me.

But he seemed more at ease that way—in a personal environment where he didn't need to sugarcoat or put on a nice guy act constantly. It was like playing on his own terms. No pressure to take shit from people like Hudson. No pressure to always greet people with respect.

It was similar to working in retail or the fast-food industry. I hated having to smile and respect people all the time, even if they were rude and nasty to me. Especially if I wanted to keep my job. I was sure there were some alpha's who were incredibly rude to their people.

Vincent could have even demanded the respect like Amaruq seemed to do. But it was clear he wanted to earn Calamitous' respect. I used to think I wanted that same overwhelmingly kind aura he tried to provide. But the more I thought about it, his personality towards everyone else revolved around nothing, other than that formality.

I'd come to terms with the fact that I didn't want him to act formal in my presence. I knew how to handle my own. I could tolerate the snarky remarks, the blunt, direct comments, and the random acts of kindness. I could also force the kindness out of him if I wanted to. It was all a part of what made it interesting.

"Stop staring at me and spit it out already." Vincent allowed his head to hit the door with a gentle thud. His head turned lazily to the side, in my direction, one of his eyebrows lifted at me.

"Do you like being alpha?" I blurted.

He shrugged. "It's my responsibility."

"That's not what I asked."

He went quiet. ". . .I wasn't going to accept the title."

"Huh?"

"I was going to refuse the title as alpha and turn down the throne."

"Wait, seriously? You mean that? Why?" My lips curved into a frown.

"Because I was never fit to be a leader."

"Is that what you think?" I hummed.

He added, "I'm nothing like Amaury. Nothing like either of my father's. I'm just a wolf who was born with alpha blood in him and is expected to uphold that role. But I'll never earn the kind of respect or power most other alpha's have in their packs."

"You're revealing an awful lot for someone who didn't want to be near me just last month."

"There's seven minutes left now." He closed his eyes and placed his phone on the floor between us. "It's just until my birthday's over. Remember?"

"Sure." I turned my head forward.

"Besides, it's not like you haven't known any of this. I'm not telling you anything you didn't hear when Hudson approached us." He released a barely audible throaty laugh.

"That's true. What happened to your father? Not Amaruq. Your real father."

"My real father, huh. . ." Vincent cracked his knuckles one by one.

I didn't speak but waited for him to continue.

"He was killed"—Vincent's eyes pierced through me—"by your kind." I sucked in a breath, ignoring the way his words dug the knife deeper into me. "But that's got nothing to do with you," he quickly added.

"You hold a grudge though, don't you?" I hugged my knees closer to my chest.

"I guess I'd be lying if I said I didn't." He opened his eyes and leaned forward.

His hands fell to his coat, which he'd stripped out of. He was wearing a gray t-shirt that didn't hide the sleeve of his tattoo. He dropped his coat on the floor opposite of him. As he did so, I could see the skin along his rib cage, as his shirt lifted. The scars were still there.

"The scars on your side. The ones near your tattoo. Where did those come from?"

We had delved this deep into the conversation already. I couldn't stop now.

Vincent's tone was even lower as he spoke, "You've noticed them."

"I have." I nodded. "Um, did s-someone here do that to you? Never mind. Maybe I shouldn't have asked that—"

"Do you remember anything I told you in the beginning?" was his direct response.

"I think so. . ."

"The human who stabbed me in the back. Do you remember when I told you that?"

I didn't remember at first, but it clicked, and I gasped. "D-did they do that to you?"

"It's a long story I'm afraid we don't have time for. But now I hope you're aware. . . I wasn't kidding when I said that was the last time I ever trusted your kind." He left it at that.

Part of me didn't know what to feel or how to react. It was all coming together. His high-alert behavior around me. His high-alert behavior in the café when we met my mom. I was starting to think I had it all wrong, about why he didn't like being around humans.

"So, you were genuinely uncomfortable. . ." I murmured, rubbing the sides of my arms.

"What?" One of his eyebrows rose.

"Nothing," I quickly said, dismissing my comment.

What is up with you and thinking I'm going to hurt you all the time?, I recalled my own question to him the day he first apologized to me for everything. Well, shit. Now I felt kind of insensitive, knowing that just might have been the case.

I took a deep breath and asked, "Well, what about me? You trust me now, don't you?"

He didn't answer at first. It was only after several more seconds of dread, that he said, "I haven't been given a reason not to."

"Fair enough." I laughed quietly at myself. "You know, I almost said we have all night. . ."

That couldn't have been any further from the truth. There were only five minutes left of this night. It was almost over. This time, I could feel Vincent's eyes staring at me. He didn't break contact, even after I went quiet again.

I looked at his face. "Okay, I guess it's my turn now. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" he asked in the same tone I'd asked earlier.

"Like . . . I don't know. I can't describe it. You look less intimidating than usual."

"I look intimidating to you?" He turned his waist to get a better look at me.

"Are you kidding me? Intimidating isn't even the correct word. I mean, hello!? Chained to a radiator? Remember?" I scoffed with a laugh, waving down at my clean ankle. "All you did was threaten me, insult me, and give me the cold shoulder in the beginning."

"Right," he said, looking down, "I apologize for all of that again."

I feigned a sigh. "I forgave you already, didn't I? If you apologize too much, I just might take my forgiveness back too, right along with my happy birthday."

"You're far too nice," he said. I paused.

He continued, "Every word I said to you in the beginning, I meant. With the idea it was you. There are some cruel people in this world, Genesis. Even among the most angelic faces."

When I took note of the serious expression on his face, my face softened at him. His back was hunched, his body still leaning forward. I noticed him playing with the laces of his combat boots, twisting them over his fingers.

I sighed, for real this time, scooting closer to him. He tensed but didn't protest against it.

"And you're far too pessimistic. It's not about being nice, Vincent. I just understand. If it were me in that position, I would have acted the same way. Well, I wouldn't have been as intense as you. Unlike you, I know how to sympathize. But I would have been just as frustrated.

"I'd have demanded the same answers. I'd have felt so much anger, I honestly wouldn't have known what to do with it. Don't mistaken me either. I'm not as kind as you think I am. I hate you for treating me the way you did. It was shitty and you were a major asshole.

"But I don't blame you. I'll hold it over your head; however, I won't beat you down with everything you've said and done. Because I understand. Dwelling on all the negative shit won't change things between us. If you're sorry, just keep showing me. I see it," I said.

He blinked at me, his mouth opening and closing in the process. He was at a loss for words. There was an unreadable expression crossing his face. What was this weird atmosphere? It was something unexplainable that was hanging over us.

Vincent slowly leaned back again, until his head was touching the door. His face was turned in my direction, eyes roaming over my own face. I was in the same position as him, my eyes roaming over his face as well.

I heard him breathe out a low sigh. "Is this what you wanted? So much for fighting it. . . Fine. I surrender. . ." His words were almost impossible to hear within the soft laugh vibrating from his throat. If I wasn't a wolf, I don't think I'd have heard him.

"Who are you talking to?" I mumbled, unable to keep the frown off my face.

"Don't worry about it." He gave me a half-hearted smile.

"You're weird," I commented.

"So are you," he replied.

"Nothing like the unreasonable guy I met in the beginning."

Vincent shrugged. "I've never been good at leaving a good first impression."

"Is that the excuse you're going with?" I sent him an are you serious right now look.

He laughed quietly. "It's not an excuse."

"You should learn how to then," I mumbled again. "We could've had a better first introduction and avoided all of this."

"Sometimes life puts you through the ringer."

"The ringer?" I forced out a laugh. "More like you put me through the ringer."

Our faces were close. I wasn't sure how much closer we could get. This was probably the closest we'd ever been to each other. I could feel his body heat merging with mine. Did he realize how close his face was? Maybe he didn't.

He was fighting to keep the grin off his face. But he lost. He flashed me a huge boyish grin, showing off all his sparkly white teeth. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as his tongue glossed over his lips. It was a sight I didn't often see.

"Oh, so that's funny to you now?" My face scrunched.

"No. I just couldn't help but laugh." His grin faded into a small smile. I had just noticed his face was even closer. Our noses were almost touching. I was sure my breath was fanning his lips, the same way his breath was fanning mine. My thoughts were moving a thousand miles per minute. So fast, I was losing focus. His lips. They were right there. So close.

I looked up at his eyes through my eyelashes. Shit. He was already staring at me. He'd noticed me staring at them. He stole at glance at my lips, then focused on my eyes again.

"Hey Vincent," I whispered, inhaling sharply, when I saw his lips move closer, "I think your birthday's over."

His eyes widened. I watched the faintest hint of red cover his cheeks then fade, almost instantly, as his skin grew flushed. He cleared his throat and backed away, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Then, there's no need for us to sit here anymore." I didn't have a chance to speak.

Vincent fought to stand on his own two feet. He grabbed his coat and his phone as fast as he could, turning his back to me. My fingers hovered over my lips. What the hell was that? I shook my head, laying a hand on my chest, attempting to calm myself.

The door to Vincent's room then opened.

I crawled to my feet, blurting, "Goodnight, Vincent!"

He froze. Was his hand shaking? The hand he used to hold onto the doorknob looked as though it was going to fall off. It looked like he swore at himself. But I couldn't tell. He'd only mouthed it. Was he going to turn around and look at me?

"Goodnight." He didn't turn around. He didn't even say my name.

But he did run into his room and slam the door.

"What kind of reaction was that?" I whispered to myself, staring at his door.

* * *

I couldn't remember the last time anyone avoided me this much. More importantly, I couldn't remember the last time I ached to talk to anyone this much. It was heavy on my conscience. Sure, Vincent cut back on how much he interacted with me not too long ago. This wasn't the same though. I knew why he was doing it, this time. He didn't want to face what happened three nights ago. That wasn't fair. I couldn't sleep thinking about it.

I hadn't seen his face in three days. Three fucking days. Not even a glimpse. He'd made sure to keep himself busy. I couldn't catch up to him before he left in the mornings. I couldn't catch up to him when he returned in the evenings.

My next choice was to pin him to the ground and strangle him the next time I saw him. For leaving my heart in a weird state. I couldn't even begin to pinpoint what the feeling was. Frustration? Confusion? I didn't fucking know. It just wouldn't go away. Part of that was a lie, and I knew it. But I refused to accept the feelings for what they were. That I was worried.

"If you don't stop poking me, I'm going to bite you," Dimitri threatened.

"Jokes on you, biting is welcomed. At least, from you," Dylan retorted, winking. Dimitri narrowed his eyes on her. She took notice and tried to escape. But he caught her arm, yanking her back into his side. Her laughter went on non-stop, echoing off the tunnel walls as we walked back to Vincent's house.

"Those two were supposed to help you train today and instead they've been dicking around all this time." Mariah joined my side, yawning.

"They're cute though." I shrugged.

She rolled her eyes, sighing. "I guess they are."

"Will those two ever mate?" I whispered.

"Between you and I, I don't know. Honestly," Mariah said.

"Ah," I said.

Mariah stopped. Her eyebrows knitted together as she searched my face. "Are you okay, Genesis? You've been very silent ever since Saturday morning. Too silent."

"Huh? Me? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking about something." I waved Mariah off.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Have you seen Vincent lately?" Our sentences clashed as we spoke at once.

"Vincent? Yeah. I just saw him this morning. He went for a run," she said, adding, "I don't think he's back yet. Why? Are you looking for him?"

"Oh"—my chest collapsed further into my stomach—"nothing."

"He's been acting really weird too. Did something happen between you two?"

"What? No!" I squeaked, shaking my hands in front of my face. She frowned and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. She then crossed her arms, shooting me a look that basically said, I can see right through your bullshit, but she didn't push it. I was thankful.

I sighed. "He just confuses me. That's all. I don't know what I'm thinking. No, I'm just thinking too much. I'm confused with myself too, I guess." Mariah watched me intently.

Damn, I hadn't felt this shitty since I'd first been thrown into this mess. Now, there was a tornado going on in my head. There were other things going on too, but none of them gave me as much of a headache, and chest ache.

"He confuses you. . ." Mariah was trying her best to understand what I was saying.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. It's just me." I disregarded my comments.

Mariah's frown deepened. "Genesis, can I ask you a question?" She cleared her throat.

My mind was screaming no. But I nodded my head yes.

"This might sound weird . . . but do you think you might feel—?"

"Come on, you slow pokes!" Dylan called back to us. She had her hands cuffed around her mouth. Her body was slung over Dimitri's shoulder as he carried her in a tight grip. He didn't seem like he was letting her run free any time soon.

"We're coming!" Mariah yelled back.

My eyebrows knitted together. "What were you saying?"

"Um, nothing. On second thought, don't worry about it, okay? But if you want to talk, I'm here. I might be able to help." Mariah forced a smile and shook her head. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, watching her walk ahead of me. Now, what the hell was with that too?

I didn't understand them. Any of them.

* * *

"Genesis, are you listening to me?"

I scrambled to my knees on the bed. "Huh? Oh yeah! What makes you think I'm not?"

Amaury sighed. "You haven't responded to me four times now. I just called your name twice before this too." I turned my face to the window, my wolf-colored eyes reflecting back at me.

"Wow. Wait, what? Did you, seriously?"

"I did," he said, sighing again. "You're distracted."

"I'm sorry. . ."

"No need to apologize. I'm not sure what it is but holding it in can make matters worse."

I thought about his words for a second. "I . . . feel void."

"Void? Why void?" Amaury's voice was laced with concern.

"Something weird happened a few nights ago." I didn't know where to go from there. Should I have told him everything? Maybe he understood Vincent the best. After all, Vincent trusted him the most. Amaury could have shared with me how to approach this, right? I wouldn't have been able to on my own. But if I didn't, I had a feeling Vincent would avoid me forever.

"Weird?" Amaury repeated.

"Yeah, I don't know . . . I-I can't explain it myself. Never mind. Forget I said anything. Maybe we should focus on the important stuff we need to worry about."

"Hmm, this feels very personal. . ." Amaury let his sentence hang.

"I don't know. Not really. Maybe. Ugh!" I groaned and tugged at the roots of my curls.

Amaury took a deep breath. "How about we start from the root of the problem?"

"I don't know. I guess I haven't seen Vincent in three days. I'm sure he's been avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?" Amaury's tone matched the feelings I felt. "That's very . . . odd. Why would he be doing that?"

"Because of what happened." My shoulders shrugged.

"What happened?" he pressed on.

"Uh, well um," I paused, contemplating whether I should tell him exactly or not, "nothing important. We just talked and cleared the air a bit. That's it."

"You two just talked?" Amaury wasn't buying it for a second. He had the same questions in his voice that Mariah's face held. I was sure if I could see his face, it would have been just as apprehensive.

"Yup," I said, popping the p.

"Since when do you care so much about whether Vincent is talking to you or not?"

"I don't care. At least, not in that sense! I just . . . need him to talk to me. Yeah, exactly. If we don't talk, how will things be resolved? We've been making progress. So, it doesn't make sense to regress," I spoke with a duh tone that wasn't as convincing as I'd hoped for.

"Hmm. Is that so?" Amaury's humming was one of the most taunting, irking noises I'd ever heard in my life. It was one of those patronizing sounds that people made when they knew they were right, or when they knew someone was lying. In this case, it sounded like both.

"What? What is it!?" I huffed, urging him to speak. "Come on. Out with it already!"

"Oh, excuse me over here. It just sounds like he knows that you two . . . or it just sounds like you two are . . . or perhaps not. Never mind."

"What? You can't start something like that and not finish! That's not very nice of you."

"Don't worry, Genesis. Forget what I was saying. I'm probably wrong. I don't think it'll ever happen with him." Amaury chuckled to himself.

I crossed my arms and pouted, stuffing my face in one of the pillows on the bed. Screaming into it was extremely tempting right now. But I squeezed onto the pillow with all my might instead. Unbeknownst to me, my strength was too much for the fluffy, thin material to handle.

A tear split through the silence of my room.

"Fuck," I muttered. The sides of the pillow ripped.

Why did everyone keep doing that? First, Mariah. Now, Amaury. I wanted to shout for them to just finish the damn sentence. It'd cause me less pain if they did.

"Deep breaths, Genesis." I could hear Amaury breathing in and out in my head. I followed his instructions and closed my eyes. When we were done, my chest felt slightly lighter.

"You sound just like Vincent whenever you say that," I said.

"You're very attentive to him." Amaury sounded pleased. I wasn't sure why. It was natural.

I crossed my legs under me, letting my hands fall in my laps. "It's nothing special."

"I beg to differ," Amaury retorted.

"Amaury, can I ask you something that stays between us?" My question seemed to have caught him off guard because he fell quiet instantly. I didn't hear him again for another thirty seconds or so.

Finally, he spoke, "Oh? Sure."

"Do you know what happened to Vincent's dad? And why Vincent's mom left?"

Amaury was quiet for a moment, soaking in both of my questions. "How do you know about them?" he asked with caution.

"They've come up plenty of times now. . . He told me some things about his mother a while ago. And he told me some things about his father during our talk. You mentioned trauma before. Does it have to do with them?"

"Yes . . . and no." Amaury lowered his tone.

"What does that mean?" I ignored my racing heart, eager for answers.

"It's a long story . . . that also involves something else. I suppose you've seen his scars and he's told you a bit about this then."

"Just a little bit. He told me it was because of my kind. Humans. He didn't say how exactly. But that's what he told me. I just . . . I don't know. I remembered you telling me a little bit about this a while back.

"When you told me, I needed to gain his trust. Or something like that. How come you didn't tell me this then? I would have taken a different approach with him. Or I don't know. I would have at least tried," I vented my concerns.

As many times as Amaury and I spoke, this was the first time he'd ever been quiet so many times, as if he genuinely didn't know what to say without overstepping boundaries. Was he thinking? It was hard to tell.

"I didn't know if you would have understood. After all, you had no reason to care before, isn't that, right? Would it have made a difference if I told you any of this before you got to know him yourself? I could have tried to sway your opinion. But I'd rather you form your own.

"In contrast to me meddling with my own preconceived notions about him. I'm biased, after all. He is my brother. I only have his best interests at heart and have seen him at his worst, as well as his best. Unlike you, who had your own based on what you saw," Amaury finished.

"When you put it like that, I"—I scratched the back of my neck, staring at my lap—"well, I guess that's true."

"I'm more surprised he willingly told you that much though. . . That just means you two have truly come a long way. There's more progress than you think."

I hummed in agreement, glancing up at the ceiling. "I guess that's true too."

"If you really think it'll make a difference, I'll tell you what I know." Amaury's voice was firm. I shut my mouth, listening closely. He continued, "Mariana, Vincent's mother, left Vincent in front of our entrance when he was seven-years-old. I was the one who found him."