"What is this?" I poked and prodded at the plate of meat Mariah slid in front of me.

My back was against the bed while I sat curled up on the floor. There was a cup of water inches away from the plate. She sat criss cross in front of me; her hands folded on her lap. I watched with hesitation. Sure, she was kind. But that didn't mean I could trust her.

She still took orders from him—something about her parent's being the pack's doctors or whatever. It was a part of the pack business he mentioned several times during their whispers already. This must've been just a pastime for her.

"It's steak. You haven't eaten anything in over twenty-four hours now. You're very weak. You should put something in your system." She pushed the plate closer.

"How do I know you haven't poisoned it?" I muttered.

"Your senses should have gotten better by now. Your sight, your hearing, your taste, your smell. . ." Her fingers glided over the steak knife on the plate, caressing the handle. "You'd have been able to sniff it out already." I jumped. There was a loud noise that erupted off the glass plate. I realized it was the knife as she split through the steak with all her might.

"I guess you're right. . ." I muttered, picking up the piece of steak.

"I know I am," she replied with a chuckle.

Vincent left hours ago. Mariah had returned to the room soon after and had been with me for a total of thirty minutes now. Before she retrieved a plate of food for me, she spent ten minutes checking my wound. I winced every time her hands grazed my bandages. She had tried to be gentle. But her grip was iron-clad. I guess "gentle" wasn't exactly in a wolf's nature.

That was if she could really turn into a wolf and this was really a pack disguised as a town.

I'd tried to digest the information but it was hard. I knew my limits. Accepting that my life was on the verge of changing for better or worse was right at the top of those limits. Could anyone blame me though? I had my doubts about the wolf I saw yesterday. A shifter wasn't in my list of explanations though.

"So, um, about this murder charge. . ." I said, clearing my throat.

"What about it?" One of her thin eyebrows lifted.

"Y-you don't think. . . ah, never mind."

"If you don't speak up, you'll never be heard." I didn't like the patronizing tone to her voice.

"I guess I was just wondering. You don't really think that I'm capable of murdering what you guys call the alpha, right? I mean, look at me! I'm small. Alpha male wolves are huge. Look at the damage it did to my shoulder!"

Mariah detached her hands from each other and removed her legs from their criss cross position, curling them into her chest. "Your kind is capable of many things. Even someone at your size. You may be small, but you're not helpless, are you?"

I gulped. "No, not exactly. But—"

"It's not possible for you to take down an animal that size?"

"W-well yeah, I don't think so," I stuttered.

"And how might poachers take down animals twice their size? Not just with guns either. Just because you were harmed in the process, doesn't mean you weren't capable. You see, the difference between you and Amaury is, you made it out alive. He didn't.

"Was it in self-defense then? Was it not? And if you didn't kill him, how did he die? And why were you bitten? Sometimes it isn't a matter of strength, but skill. What we found at the scene points to murder. So, you're going to need a lot more than that to convince everyone."

I processed her words for longer than I intended. Was this her way of saying she didn't think I was guilty? Her way of helping me put together a better argument? I didn't know what to think.

"I can't quite say I believe you yet. . . But I haven't made up my mind about you either."

I frowned. "I swear I didn't kill him! How do I prove my innocence—?" The metal door dragged open. I immediately stopped talking and stared down at my plate to avoid his eyes.

"Mariah," Vincent called out to her, "you're needed in town. It's an emergency." I could hear him panting. When I looked back up, he was clenching the edge of the door, struggling to catch his breath.

"Shit. What's going on?" She quickly rose to her feet.

"They've returned."

"What? Who? Your father? And the rest?" She frowned. It was just like the first time they spoke in my presence. I wouldn't call it eavesdropping because I wasn't. I couldn't tune them out either because they spoke as though I weren't in the room.

Vincent nodded. "Some of them are injured. Your mother and father need help."

"Son of a bitch. I thought they weren't supposed to return for another two days. Did Dimitri return with them as well? Do you know if he's hurt?" There was an overwhelming urgency to her tone.

I shifted backwards on my knees.

"Yes, but don't worry. Your brother and Dylan returned with their group unharmed."

"Okay, okay. I'm going then. Wait, who is going to stay with her?" She gestured to the side with her head. I wanted to roll my eyes. Sure, as if they hadn't had me locked in here by myself for nearly the entire day already.

"I've got her from here."

"But your father—"

"Will call for me when he's ready to meet with me. Worry about yourself and your parents," he said. She scrunched her face behind his back as she ran out the room, clearly irritated by his dismissal of her concerns. This was about the third time he brushed her off.

We were met with an uncomfortable silence again. It was like this earlier when I couldn't stop gawking at the window. He must've known I'd pieced everything together because he left without another word. While I picked up the shattered pieces of my life; that not even glue could hold. It was either I trusted what he was saying or I continued to stay in this room in denial.

All this commotion about their alpha was hurting my brain. Maybe I hadn't been imagining the human-like eyes that I looked into while eyeing, who they referred to as Amaury, yesterday then. What could I even say to this man? My life was in his hands, literally.

Maybe the rumors about Calamitous weren't just rumors. Maybe those two boys hadn't just disappeared. I was starting to think they trespassed on territory that wasn't meant for them. The people—no, the wolves—didn't take well to that. There was a reason no one traveled up the mountains. I was beginning to see it for what it was.

I shook my head, attempting to clear away the negative thoughts.

No, I wouldn't end up prisoner like that. I hadn't struggled with twenty-years of life to be disposed of like garbage for something I didn't do. I most definitely wasn't going to let whatever was happening to me, kill me either.

I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes. "Hey, Vincent. Urgh, alpha Vincent? Sorry, I don't know. Whatever you want to be called, I guess. . ."

"Vincent," he said, "just Vincent."

"Okay. Um, what do I have to do to prove to you that I had nothing to do with that wolf's death? I'm the victim. I was attacked. He approached me. H-he was in pain. I tried to help!"

Vincent's footsteps traced the floor at a dauntingly slow pace. I eyed him over my fork, slowly pushing another piece of steak into my mouth. "What do you mean he was in pain?" he asked.

"Well, it's exactly like I said. He looked like he was in pain."

"He looked like he was in pain? Or he was in pain?"

"He was in pain. Wait. No. He looked like he was in pain!" I wanted to slap myself.

"Oh? Which is it?" He stopped and tilted his head.

Shit. He was so intimidating; I couldn't properly form words. I damn sure wasn't going to admit that though. "Why do I get the feeling you don't believe me at all?" I murmured.

"Because I don't. Genesis, you should know that since my brother was a pup, he's never once harmed a human. He was alive for three decades"—Vincent sighed, and looked down, lifting his trembling hands as though he was remembering something agonizing—"funny enough, he was the one who told me I should trust in humans more. Just a little bit more. . ."

Vincent let his hands fall back to his side. I couldn't tear my eyes off of him as his head leaned back, his nostrils flaring. It looked as though he was inhaling through his nose. He then exhaled through his mouth. A deep sigh followed after. And any trace of mourning was gone. I was staring at an almost lifeless stoic man again.

"My brother tried his best to keep peace within this pack. Peace between us and humans at all costs. To protect our own. We've seen the dangers humans can bring. I know first-hand. And punishment was brought to any wolf who dared threaten the treaty he restored.

"He'd even gone as far as to strike a deal with the higher-ups in your little town. Why do you think you're under our jurisdiction and not theirs? And now, you're asking me to believe that my brother attacked you first and he wasn't defending himself from you?"

My jaw tightened.

I still couldn't find it in me to form a response. I wasn't a violent person. I'd punched a kid in the face for pulling my hair in middle school. But that was self-defense. Of course, my teachers weren't too happy with that response. But still. It was as far as my violent history went.

"How the hell am I supposed to prove it?" I gritted.

"That's for you to figure out, isn't it?" He shrugged.

I didn't know which was more irritating. His smile or his face. The only time I'd ever seen him smile so far, it was wicked, and I wanted to wipe it right off his face. Other than that, he was an empty canvas, completely devoid of any emotions. I would have thought he lacked empathy if not having heard the different emotions in his voice, alone. Anger was clearly a specialty of his.

"Tch," I spat.

"The dagger used to stab him was found near both of your bodies. It was off to the side of the road. When Mariah checked both of your wounds, yours was fresher than his. I need you to explain to me why that is. To me, it looks like you could've stabbed him before he attacked you."

I froze.

Damnit. How could I forget about the blood dripping down his fur? There was so much of it.

"Now, you just wait a minute," I began, "I don't even carry weapons around! Let alone a dagger. What about fingerprints? Did you check for any of those?"

"There were none," he answered. "Do you carry gloves around all the time?"

"What? Yeah, I do. But what does that have to do with—oh crap." Realization dawned on me faster than I could handle. I wasn't wearing my gloves that night. But I had them on me. My black leather gloves that I'd received from my dad two Christmas' ago. Wait. Black.

That was when it occurred to me. The wolf wasn't just in pain. He was fighting against something. The shadowy mist, the pitch-black eyes—none of that was normal. Should I have mentioned it? Would that have helped my case? Vincent probably wouldn't have believed me.

"What do you mean your brother made a deal with our higher-ups? From my understanding, kidnapping hasn't changed in any human laws," I scoffed.

He was studying me. More like staring at me.

As if I was crazy. Or dumb. Or both. In his defense, I was convinced I was crazy too. I didn't think I could feel any more crazy until he chuckled. No, not the humorous kind of chuckle. It was a void, unsettling noise that turned my stomach inside and out. Yet another thing that was going on the list of irritating things Vincent did that was going to drive me insane.

The chuckle didn't last long though because he was sobering up again, back to his brutally icy tone. "I guess you still haven't quite understood the situation. When you and Amaury crossed paths, you were thrown into our territory. The death of one of our own is involved. An alpha, at that. Therefore, our laws overrule your laws. Welcome to the world of wolves, Genesis."

My fingernails nipped at the sleeves of my shirt, as I folded my arms, and scratched the muscle on my biceps. "C-can I. . . I don't know, can I at least ask questions? About this, um, wolf thing? I, well, what's going to happen to me? I just want to know."

For as long as I'd been trapped in here, I'd just noticed I was in the same clothes. I probably stank too. With all the sweat and dirt that filled my pores, I was bound to have produced some kind of disturbing odor.

I watched him stop for a moment. He seemed to have been thinking it over. I could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips straightened into a thin line. When his eyes glossed over me again, he narrowed them, his lips thinning into a straight line. "Don't get any wrong ideas. I'm telling you this for your own good. You need to be prepared if you want to survive."

Vincent's words were capable of shooting arrows through my chest. Not the lovey-dovey Cupid arrows that were celebrated on Valentine's Day. It was more like he would kill me in an instant if I so much as breathed wrong in front of him.

"The next full moon," were his next words.

"What?" A frown formed in the middle of my eyebrows.

"You're expected to experience the first shift during the next full moon. The symptoms will continue to increase until then. They might even become unbearable for you."

I gulped. "When is the next full moon supposed to happen?"

He walked to the bookshelf, giving the calendar on the wall two hard taps. "In five days."

"Five days from now!?" The bile in my throat rose again. That was too soon. No, that was too far. Deep down, I knew I wasn't ready. Despite that, I wanted this to be over already.

He ignored my outburst, continuing, "You can't shift on your own until you've become acquainted with your wolf and your body has gotten used to the transitions."

"My wolf? What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what I said. The moon plays a pivotal role in wolves. At its fullest, we're at our strongest. Always when it's at its highest peak. But it can also be very dangerous. It's easy to lose control. And you'll only shift during full moons until you can learn to control it."

"And if I don't learn to control it?" I wasn't sure if I wanted the answer to that.

"You die. Or you go insane . . . until you've become a monster." When he turned back around, I stiffened. Shivers. I felt them everywhere. There was something about the glint in his eyes that left me burning a hole into his skull. I wasn't sure what I was trying to do. Pick apart his mind, maybe? That might've been it. Other than turmoil, I didn't know what was going on in his head.

"A-a monster?" I whispered.

"Shifters who have lost their ways. . . They've fallen victim to the temptation and abandoned their morals, becoming creatures who roam at night with a thirst that's never quenched. The moon goddess couldn't save them. No one could. We call them Erebus wolves. . ."

"Erebus wolves. . ." The name rolled off my tongue smoothly.

I was familiar with the name Erebus. When I'd dived into Greek mythology when I was younger, Erebus had been presented as a man—no, a dark deity, like a shadow—who personified everything darkness was. The name was fitting for the wolves he described.

"Yes. And unless you want to end up like that, if you survive the transition, you'll live by our rules. Or else you'll have bigger things to worry about then being tried for murder."

I nodded, my lips parting opened and closed. "Do those. . . Do those wolves happen to have p-pitch-black eyes?" I hesitated.

"No." He crossed his arms. "Their eyes are red. Why?"

So, his brother hadn't become an Erebus wolf. Then, I didn't know what the hell I saw.

* * *

"Come."

There was a tunnel.

"Closer."

There was darkness. It consumed the inside of the tunnel, swallowing its contents whole. A single path towards it stretched on for what looked to be miles, lit by the moon's gleam. I could feel the energy. The entrance wasn't far. Leaves fluttered around me from the branches of the trees that were being stripped naked.

That voice. It wanted me to follow.

"Who are you?" My words came out hushed. He'd heard me anyways. Because he answered.

"I am the wolf. . . Am within you. . . Danger. . . Vincent. . . Don't leave him. . . Stay. . ." The whispers faded in and out, as if I was listening in from an old radio with no connection. I was sure that it was a male's voice. I couldn't grasp his words in full sentences like I wanted.

"Genesis," something growled.

My heart stopped. I latched onto the little bit of air I could take in. My brain stopped functioning when I noticed the huge black paw digging into the soil. A long black arm connected to the paw, outstretched from the inside of the tunnel. Golden eyes. I'd noticed them in the field of black. Sharp canine teeth as white as hope. But there was no hope in this situation.

The wolf's jaw moved. "We'll meet. Soon," his deep voice said.

I flung awake. A loud gasp barreled out of my chest. And my skin broke into a sweat. I felt around my face, then touched over the bed where I lay. Heavy breathing from my mouth filled my ears.

"Shit," I murmured. What the hell was that?

It felt real. I was surprised I had fallen asleep in the first place. I vowed to stay awake, but now I was looking at a dark sky in an area that was too quiet for my liking. It was going on day two, and I was still here. That was unacceptable. The moon was starting its new cycle.

Four days left until my first shift.

That meant I had two days to figure out how I was going to break out of here.