The night was cold and full of a terrifying and chilling evil. The forest of Lycridan stretched out for miles and held a dark secret inside of it. Many had abandoned their villages on the outskirts of the forest for one simple reason.

Werewolves.

The forest was huge and had been the home of a clan of werewolves for centuries. For a long time they merely terrorized those on their border for fun and because they didn't want their clan to be discovered and hunted down much like other dark creatures of the night. It wasn't until they realized that they were dying and their women weren't having children that they finally took a brutal turn.

The clan lashed out at the few villages that surrounded their large forest. They easily snatched the women and drove the men away. There was nothing to stop the wolves as they attacked and killed innocent children and men only to take their sisters and mothers away.

There was only one village that put up a good fight and held the wolves at bay for several years.

Alba.

Alba was a rather large village and might even be considered a town in other areas across the land. They had many strong men that defended their women and homes. It was a valiant fight, but the wolves eventually received the upper hand.

Now the elders in the wolf clan knew that merely taking the women wouldn't solve the problem. Human were frail creatures, especially the women, and they didn't live as long as the wolves. They knew that they needed to keep this village going if they wanted to keep their clan from becoming extinct as others before them.

Once the elders discovered a route around extinguishing Alba they quickly put their plan into motion.

Sacrifice.

Sacrifice was the only way. They decided that they would ask for a young woman, preferably in her best child bearing years, every five years. Since the members of the wolf clan lived long lives they didn't necessarily need to procreate more than every five years. They also didn't want their secret discovered and demanded tribute to them as well.

The elders were afraid of what would happen if those in Alba truly knew the need for the sacrifice.

The clan had been sick for a long time. They didn't understand where it came from but decided they must've been cursed. Their women could not bear children. If the humans ever found out then they would have the advantage.

In a clever attempt to throw off the villagers in Alba, the elders began to send some of their people to visit the village as travelers. No one in Alba ever saw the wolves and lived, and they especially had never seen one in its human form. Even if they did see one, such as when the strangers came through the village, they didn't suspect a thing. The werewolves looked quite human and knew human behavior very well.

It didn't take much to convince the frightened villagers of the horrors that took place when their beautiful daughters were stolen into the night. They quickly spread rumors of the wolves mutilating and eating the heart to give them strength. It was all nonsense but the villagers believed it without a single doubt in their mind.

As a last precaution to make sure that their clan lived on, the elders made sure the ritual was done on the night of the new moon. Despite the popular belief that the wolves changed during a full moon they had the ritual and sacrifice take place on a new moon where they were at their strongest.

Rafe.

Rafe was the son of a rather unimportant and long forgotten werewolf. His father had stolen one of the human brides and forced himself to her. He had been desperate to prove himself and only received banishment for his heinous crime. Naturally the deed was done and the human mother gave birth to a healthy and quite strong baby.

The poor boy was at the bottom of the food chain in the clan. He was recognized for nothing and often was given little recognition. He hated it, especially since he couldn't understand the traditions. He was quite close to his mother and she told him more about humans than was typically allowed. Rafe realized that he related more with the humans than with his clan.

Red.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. For the past ten years he had watched over her. He had stumbled upon her quite by accident even though she was none the wiser over the incident. It was just after he was recovered from a terrible fight and had gone for a run along the edge of the forest.

The first time he spotted her was by a stream retrieving water. She was young then, but still beautiful in his eyes. Her hair was rich in its color of red and she was always alone. He had noticed a rather hungry wolf stalking towards her in the trees and knew right then he had to do something. This was no one from his clan, but rather a regular wolf who was suffering from an empty stomach.

Rafe refused to accept the law of nature in that moment he saw the wolf with his eye on the young girl. Rafe tore through the shadows and the trees before snatching the wolf and taking it far away from that stream and away from Red.

After that day Rafe realized that he didn't have to be alone any longer. Even though he never approached her he felt close to her and she always made him feel better when he was struggling in the clan. He knew she didn't know of him but he was tempted on several occasions to reveal himself to her just to see how she would react. Red was different from all of the other humans in the village. She didn't mind straying close to the forest and she never seemed scared when the dark shadows took over the land as night fell.

As Rafe kept a careful eye on her over the years he realized slowly that she was hated by those in her village. It was at this realization that he knew she would be put up to sacrifice one way or another. The first time she was of age to be sacrificed he was relieved to find she wasn't the one to wear the cloak of red.

New Moon.

It had been five years from that time that Rafe tried to do his best in approaching the counsel of elders to see if there was some other way to keep their clan from dying. He had a terrible feeling that hung over his head for those five years that Red would be next. He didn't understand it in anyway. All he knew was that her time had been cut and the sand was running down slowly but steadily.

That terrible night Rafe shifted into his wolf form like the other men in the clan. Even though Rafe was as close to an outcast as he could be without actually being tossed away he was still one of the strongest in the clan and was expected at the ritual. They always sent the biggest and the strongest to bring the sacrifice back just incase the humans decided to turn on the century old agreement and fight back.

Waiting.

They had waited in the dark shadows for over an hour. He could feel many of the others around him getting restless as their paws shifted on the crispy and dead leaves. Fall was nearly over and the first storm of winter would be there within a few short weeks.

It had seemed like a long wait in eternity before they heard the soft footsteps approach. The night was blacker than ink and the stars were barely able to twinkle against such a looming darkness. Without the moon to guide them in the sky they seemed lost and stuck in a hopeless search.

The wolves loved this time. Their eyes were accustomed to such darkness and had no trouble seeing through the trees with such limited light. Their senses were alive and tingling as the woman stepped further and further into the forest. She couldn't possibly know she was only moments away before she would be surrounded.

The first wolf stepped forward before the others spread through the trees and flanked themselves around the woman who wore the devil's coat. The cloak of red had never been a demand of the clan. Rafe supposed that the village made their women wear it as werewolves were supposedly damned creatures and that the women would have no salvation.

Rafe stepped into his place and felt the hairs on his nose ripple uncomfortably as the wind tugged her scent his way.

It was Red.

The pain that ripped through him was unnoticeable by those around him. He did not want such a beautiful and lonely creature to be doomed to such a terrible fate. He glanced her way as they moved quickly through the woods shepherding her towards their home deep in the forest. He was surprised to see a small smile on her face.

Despite the ugly evil that surrounded her she seemed calm. Had she accepted her fate so easily? It seemed preposterous to Rafe that this woman was easily walking to her ill awaited doom. All of the others he had seen come to the village were terrified and some even wailed for days.

Even in all the years he had watched over her and having the feeling she would be sacrificed he had never excepted this from her. Red was different and he hoped that for once this would be in her favor.

The night was silent as they moved through the woods, so silent that it nearly hurt her ears. The forest seemed so different at night, a more fearful version of the daytime one. She had lingered around the forest since she was a child—specifically after her treatment by the villagers had worsened. Though she had been young, she had not cried when they shouted things at her or when mothers whisked their children away when she walked by—because of her brother. He had always stood up for her, sometimes arguing despite her protests that it was alright.

But she never told him how she felt. She never lied to him, but she didn’t want to make him angrier or sadder by telling him about how the villagers made her feel or how she was slowly starting to believe that she was a curse. Staying home alone while Myrrah worked proved to be a somewhat risky chance to take; Sanna couldn’t be sure if she was really safe in the house. She knew well that they hated and feared her—one year of the tithe they had been prepared to send her—despite being nine and clearly not what the wolf clan was asking for.

The outskirts of the woods became something of her refuge—her playground, her safe place where the villagers wouldn’t dare go to. They stayed away from the forest as far as they could. She would play there for hours, simply taking in the scenery, letting her curiosity pick up insects and things of that nature. Of course, she always returned home before Myrrah came home late at night.

He always scolded her for straying close to the forest, but no matter how many times he told her, she simply could not agree. It was the only place she didn’t have to worry about other people. It was the one place she didn’t have to feel lonely; there were so many things to explore that she could forget about how she didn’t fit in or how everyone hated her.

Sometimes she thought she felt a presence nearby, in the forest. But she was hardly alarmed by that—there were animals in the forest, weren’t there? Deer, squirrels, fox… At least animals couldn’t judge her. But right now, there was not even a trace of a squirrel, let alone a bigger animal. It was almost like they could sense the ritual happening in the blackness and had decided to hide away, lest they be met with misfortune. On and on they led her, tirelessly herding her deeper and deeper into the forest.

Just when Sanna felt like she was unable to take another step, the dark woods gave way to a clearing. How long had they travelled? The forest must be much bigger than she had thought. The wolves stopped and separated, clearing a path for her, almost identical to the way the villagers had lined up at the entrance of the forest. She paused, hesitating, but at a snuffle of a large wolf she walked forward, not quite sure what to expect. A stone altar prepared for her death? Jagged lean-tos?

Instead, it was a quaint little village of sorts. The materials they had used to make homes were rough, consisting of wood, stones and animal hides. Rustic, yet still fairly neat. The houses were nowhere near the sophistication of the homes in Alba, but it also was not as terrible as the rumors often said. A large fire was burning towards the heart of the large clearing, and for a moment she feared that she was to be burned to death (the rumors had never said anything about burnings, but who could rely on such things like rumors?), but on more careful observation, there was no stake in the middle of the bonfire.

The multitude of wolves surrounded her once more and Sanna watched anxiously, only to let out a little strangled gasp in surprise as their fur disappeared to reveal tan, healthy skin, wolfish features morphing into human ones—she found herself circled by numerous, fierce looking men. She tensed, her heart starting to hammer away again as she remained perfectly still. They were talking amongst themselves, staring at her, almost as if she was a product on sale, but Sanna did not dare say a word. She felt exposed and vulnerable; she had never really had any contact with men other than her own brother. She felt the urge to run, but she forced herself to stand there, trying to calm her breathing. Her fingers trembled slightly before she closed them tightly onto the handle, making the tremors stop. You mustn’t look scared, she told herself. If you act scared, they’ll only give you a harder time. It was the same way with the villagers, after all.

Sanna noted there were females too, outside the strange ring the men had formed around her. They too had the dark hair and eyes—but most them looked at her with distaste. She found it altogether too familiar; people looking at her with disgust or other negative feelings. The hatred in their eyes didn’t faze her—she’d suffered worse looks in the past ten years.

It seemed that they had no intention of letting her in about what her fate was to be, but after a while they stopped speaking. The abrupt silence was uncomfortable, but one of the older men nodded at the others. A half dozen of the men came to her side and lead her to a strange shack-like structure that revealed itself to be no more than a small cage. One of the men jerked their chin at the little prison and swung the door open, motioning for her to go inside. Sanna hesitated for a moment, but set down the large basket at her feet and carefully stepped inside, wrapping the cloak tightly about her slender body as if it would protect her—the devil’s red coat. The door shut on her and the bar fell across as a lock.

She briefly heard the man telling one to keep guard—as if she could break out of a solid wooden shack. She looked about and even in the dark she could see scratch marks on the rough wood—little fingernail marks. The women before her. Sanna hugged her knees to her chest, fear eating away at her from the inside out. She huddled into herself as tightly as she could, as if she was holding herself together; if she didn’t, she was bound to fall apart with fear. Her heart still pounded in her ears like drums and she bit her lip.

Sanna glanced outside quickly, to catch a glimpse of her guard. He was dark haired like the others, a young man in his prime. He probably was there when she had first entered the forest; she wondered if he knew what her fate was to be. For some strange reason his presence almost felt familiar, but there was no way that was even vaguely possible. No one met one of them and got away alive.

What was going to happen to her? An icy claw of dread clutched at her gut, but she didn’t cry, didn’t say a thing.

Pretending to be invisible made things easier.

The fear was easy to sense in the sacrificial women even though she tried to hide it. The wolves could hear her heart patter in her chest like a young rabbit being chased down by a fox. They could smell the fear around her as it leaked off of her in tendrils like smoke. The woman was terrified, but all those that had come before her had been just as scared.

Rafe disliked the fear that came from her. It felt so wrong and unnatural for her to be afraid. He had seen her when she was happy and excited over the little discoveries she had made by the forest. He had never truly seen her afraid before this and it made him whimper slightly. Red was delicate to him and he wanted to ease her terror.

The walk was longer than Rafe remembered until they broke through the ancient trees and came to a large clearing that held their small clan. The wolves quickly circled in around her and the fire before they all began to shudder and shift back.

The change back was always such a strange experience for Rafe. He could feel his bones break and shift as the fur was pulled back into his body. The tail grew shorter and shorter until it finally disappeared. His soft eyes warped into their dark counterpart and he coughed slightly as the change was finished.

The men moved in close and began to speak quietly in both words and soft growls. This was the part that Rafe never took part in. It was an auction of some sort for the sacrificed woman. Rafe had never wanted one of the women, but as he saw Rd stand where she was looking struck with fear he wished he could step forward and accept her as his own.

The arguing stopped soon and it was obvious which man would receive her. Rafe narrowed his eyes as he looked upon the man. It was the same that gave him the scar on his shoulder. Rafe had always hated the man even before their fight.

Rafe watched as Red was taken to the small structure that served to hold the human woman until it was seen fit to bring her out to finish the ritual with the man who would have her.

"Rafe you are on guard tonight. Make sure she does not try and escape from the cage. We will have you relieved later." One of the older men of the clan informed Rafe.

Rafe took in a breath. He had never been so close to her before. He stared at where she had disappeared behind the door and felt his muscles tighten out of instinct to run. He wasn't sure what to do. He moved over to the door and stood straight while keeping his gaze forward. He could hear her breathing inside and could still smell the stench of fear from her. The scent was much less now that he had shifted into his human form but he could still detect the faint traces in the air surrounding the cage.

"You're afraid," his voice was louder than a whisper but it could easily be heard inside. Rafe didn't know why he spoke in the first place other than the strong desire he felt to ease her fear. For years he had been her silent guardian in the shadows and he had succeeded in keeping her safe. Rafe supposed that this desire to ease her pain came from so many years of protecting her.

"Do not be afraid." His voice was calm and smooth as he whispered them to her. Rafe knew it was foolish to tell her to not be afraid. There was plenty for Red to be afraid of. Her village had sacrificed her to an unknown fate. Now her fate consisted of carrying the child of one of the wolves only to live until the next sacrifice came in five years. It was terrible and Rafe wished that perhaps the ritual was death rather than bringing in another life.

"I am sorry." Rafe murmured to the night.

The sound of her whispered words caused Rafe to tilt his head to the side slightly so he could hear them better. He had never heard her say much out loud before. It was comforting to him in a way to have her speak to him. He felt more at ease in her presence knowing that she at least trusted him enough to speak. He knew form experience that the women rarely spoke on their first night with the clan and usually wept, and sometimes it wasn't so softly.

"Please don't feel the need to lie to me." Rafe's mouth hardly moved as he spoke. He knew how dangerous it was speaking so much to her already. He was risking getting into quite a bit of trouble by having this conversation with her. Though he hardly cared as he had given up on obeying the rules years before.

Even if Rafe couldn't smell the fear on her he supposed that it was easy to tell. For one she was taken from her home and put into a very alien situation with a group of strange monsters she didn't know. Those facts alone made it easy to surmise her fear.

The gentle clatter of teeth caught Rafe's attention. He had wondered how warm her cloak was during their long walk to the clan but he had let the wisp of a thought melt from his consciousness. Rafe shrugged out of the thick sweater he had been wearing. At this point he turned and looked into the bars at where she was huddled on the ground close to the door.

"Please take this, you are cold." It wasn't a question and even though he had demanded her to take it, he had done so in a soothing and gentle voice while he passed the sweater and let it drop in front of her.

She spoke once more as if there was a need to fill the silence with words. Rafe had turned his back to her once more but had his body shifted slightly.

Sanna. That was her name. It was not what he had expected, but it was beautiful just the same.

"I do not. My mother died when I was not even five years of age." Rafe had long given up feeling tortured over his mother's brutal death. He had loved her but he had decided it wasn't worth his time to waste ill emotions.

Rafe had fallen silent when Sanna spoke of the forest. Never before had he heard one of the humans comment on the beauty. Rafe had always loved the tall trees that reached for heaven. The ancient feel that was wrapped around every rock and root left him in a feeling of wonderment. The forest had been his home and yet it felt like it was much more. Whenever the wind rustled through the forest he liked to think that it was the trees speaking in soft whispers to one another.

Did the forest mind having such a nightmare take refuge at its heart? Rafe had always felt guilty for living in such a timeless place while his clan practiced such barbarian methods to keep their blood alive.

Sanna's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he turned his head to see her form the corner of his eye. He could sense the terrible ache in her soul to know the truth of her fate. He didn't want to be the one to tell her even though he felt he must.

"Yes, but not for a long, long time. I will promise you that when the time does come, I will not let you suffer." It was all Rafe could offer her in ways of comfort. He didn't know what else he could say after that and so he stood quietly at attention. His mind rolled over the reality of the situation.

Rafe had apologized to her because he felt responsible. He had done his best to keep her from being offered up as the sacrifice and he had failed. He was out of ideas to make her safe and it caused him a great and terrible sadness in his soul. Rafe was helpless in watching his mother die, and now he would once more see someone he cared for be stripped of their living breath.

He surprised her yet again by pushing a sweater through the bars of the small window. The article of clothing dropped with a soft noise onto the floor and she hesitated, glancing out of the window. How had he known she was cold? Even more puzzling, why had he offered her something to wear, even if he had known? He was something like her jailer—a horribly sympathetic one. She whispered a small thank you and drew it over the cloak she was wearing, noting it was quite big on her. It must be his, for she could feel the body heat still lingering on the thick sweater. She felt much better and let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

Sanna’s fingers went to her neck, where a soft leather cord was hidden under her dress, strung with a smoothly carved wooden rose. Her father had whittled it out of wood for her fifth birthday—the last day her whole family would be together happily. Her mother had been severely ill by then, her father upset that he could not do anything to help his wife, her brother trying hard to keep her from knowing that their mother was going to die—but her birthday had still been a happy occurrence.

When the snow began to melt and the grass could be seen, her mother passed away and thus their hardships truly started.

It seemed he had lost his mother too and Sanna knew very well how that felt. “My mother died when I was five, too,” she admitted after a bit. She almost added ‘because of me,’ but caught herself just in time. What a fit her brother would have had if she had accidentally said that to him!

She knew it really wasn’t her fault, and yet, it just felt like it was. After hearing all her life about how healthy her mother had been until she had her—and all the things the others said, it was simply nailed into her head. “My father died a few years after.”

And then old Martha had gotten into an accident. Then Tania had been killed.

Bad luck. She was bad luck.

She didn’t remember much of the loving man her father used to be before her mother died—before he became an alcoholic—but the rare memories she held, she held them dearly. Her mother she remembered as always smiling despite her illness; a gentle woman with a heart as wide as the sky itself. Sanna wore the last fragment of her happy memories around her neck; it was a constant companion that never left her. She traced each little carved nook and cranny on the little flower with a finger, finding comfort in it. She wondered if her brother was alright—she was worried about him despite her own situation. If someone could tell her that he was fine, then she would be able to meet the terms of her fate more easily…

A long, long time? What did he mean about that? Though his answer only brought more questions, his strange reassurance that she would not suffer when she did die calmed her down.

A lot of the villagers talked about the wolf clan being sadistic and prone to torturing their sacrifices. Maybe those were all lies, like the way they said things about her. Maybe they weren't so different from regular humans...but then again, why would they want a sacrifice if they were normal? Or maybe they did have a good reason for all this.

“You’re too nice to be a jailer,” she said softly, a hint of a laugh in her tense voice. Really, who did things like this? This person, who she did not even know, was the only one besides her brother who had treated her any better than some monster. Perhaps it was because he didn’t know she was bad luck—because he didn’t know what had happened because of her. If he knew, if everyone knew, it’d be different.

Rafe chuckled deep in his throat when she murmured softly that he was too nice to be a jailer. Rafe supposed that fact was true. If someone else in the clan had been placed to guard her they would've ignored her. None of the members in the clan would've harmed her or verbally abused her. That wasn't how things were done. Sanna would merely be ignored by those around her until she was needed to conceive and bear a child.

"I suppose I am, but are you not strange as well for being so calm in your situation?" he spoke back.

After that they spoke very little. There wasn't much else to say between them. It was quite late in the night and Rafe knew that he would be relieved of his duty in a while. He didn't want to leave Sanna alone with someone else as he was afraid that they might be harmful to her. She was as innocent as a lamb and it was unfair to have her in this mess. Rafe wondered what it would have been like if she had been able to runaway.

It was late into the night, or very early in the morning depending on if you were awake or merely stirring from a terrible dream. Rafe hadn't moved from his post until a man shorter than he was came out of the shadows. They said nothing between them as they both had a mutual understanding and there wasn't a need for words.

Rafe glanced over his shoulder and through the bars at where Sanna was huddled on the ground. He would find time to speak to her in the morning when the sun was up. For now Rafe was rather tired and he knew he needed to get some rest. The new moon night was the one that the wolves were strongest but it was also the night that their energy was lowest right before the sun rose.



Dawn was starting to break through the branches of the trees as a slim and shadowy figure walked stealthily through the forest. It had been a terrible night for sleep. Eden had been restless and listless as she finally gave up on seeking out dreams. She had left her small hut that she shared with her father and moved into the dark night.

Eden passed by the small structure that served as a holding room for the sacrificial woman when they are first brought. She didn't pay any mind to the man at the guard post as his eyes were set straight forward. Even with his body so stiff she could easily tell that his mind was alert and his senses were alive. Eden could smell the woman from within the building. She smelled faintly of a wood stove fire and something else Eden couldn't place.

After a brief moment of standing still in front of the structure she continued her path out of the clearing and into the trees. The moment she stepped into their circling embrace she felt herself relax and let out an uneasy breath. She always felt calm within the quiet protection of the trees.

Eden continued her trek through the forest silently as she made her way to the border. She found it difficult to stay around anyone for an extended period of time. She was, and always had been, a loner. She hated relying on others and she especially hated humans.

The leaves didn't make a sound as Eden stepped across them. She was one of the frightfully skilled fighters in the clan and many of the men stayed far from her when they were in their human form. Eden had raw energy bottled inside of her and she flew off the handle with little notice. She had caused quite a bit of damage in her life to both those in her clan and the humans that dared to enter through the border she protected.

The border that Eden had been entrusted with had been given its own reputation among the humans. It was easily called the Devil's Gate with the barbaric manner in which she used to punish the trespassers. Not a soul had made it out of her clutches alive and she planned on keeping it that way. The fools who did come to her border never had the chance to repeat the terrible lesson she taught them.

In red of dawn, a young man sat among the ruins of himself, head in his hands. Behind him was the splintered door that had been forced open, at his feet a smashed plate she must have dropped when they had come for her. Next to him a hole was crushed into the wall of the room he had punched in anger. She was gone—his sister, the only family he had left was gone. Gone, because he hadn’t been there to protect her as he had sworn to do. He had failed to do the one thing he had thought was his duty for his entire life.

He had confronted the village head in a rage, demanding that they get her back—but as if that was to happen. He knew better than anyone just how much they had wanted to offer her up as a sacrifice, how much they hated her. He had always hovered and protected her every day, but he hadn’t been there the one day it truly counted. How frightened she would have been—Myrrah could picture her crying in fear, though the village head had informed him that Sanna had accepted the role without a fuss, so why was her brother making such a ruckus?

Lies. There was no way she would have just gone along with it, unless…unless she had thought it was the only way to make things right. Another flare of anger shot through his heart and he gritted his teeth, biting back furious tears. His baby sister, who had never done anything wrong…this village had warped her and abused her. And she had never once complained to him, always saying it was alright…

He would have moved to a different village years ago if they had the funds. But the way she was scorned, she couldn’t get a job. She had gardened their own food while he went out to do various jobs and hunt—but money was one thing they did not have. If only he had left with her before! Myrrah couldn’t forgive them, none of them. He couldn’t forgive the villagers of Alba, he couldn’t forgive the damned wolves who stole away all that was precious to him.

But most of all, he could not forgive himself.

He had gone hunting three days ago, to stock up on food before the night of the tithe came and he had to stay home the entire time. He had planned carefully so he would get back a whole day before the night of the new moon, but he had been met with misfortune. As he was walking along the edge of a ravine, the soft red-brown clay had crumbled and sent him falling into the raging river below. He had somehow survived and washed up somewhere he was not familiar with—far, far away. Without any time to nurse his injuries, Myrrah had come as fast as he could…but he had been too late.

When the villagers heard about why he had been delayed, they had said that now the village would no longer be cursed since she was gone—and that he had been lucky to have not been killed by her curse. After all, three people had died in relation to that girl and one a life-ruining accident; he had almost been added to the list. He almost lost it at that. It was true that bad things had happened to them, but that didn’t mean Sanna was the cause of those tragedies. If anything, they should have pitied the girl. Instead, they had condemned her.


She didn’t deserve that. His hands balling into fists, he grabbed all his weapons with furious speed and raced out of the empty house. What was he doing, moping? He would get her back. No matter what, he would get her back—and then he would take her somewhere safe. He wouldn’t let his sister get hurt anymore. Though his body was exhausted from the hard trek back and the beating it had taken from the river, he pushed himself onwards. She couldn’t be dead yet. No, she couldn’t be.

He reached the border and fearlessly stepped into the woods, not a flicker of fear in his eyes. He’d do whatever it would take to reach her. Myrrah came to a sudden stop as he realized that he was not alone. He glanced about and his eyes locked squarely with a young woman, dark haired and dark eyed. His eyes narrowed angrily—by her appearance she was from the wolf clan. “You,” he hissed, his usual voice dropping two octaves into a low growl. “You damn wolves! My sister. Give her back.” With that, he lunged for her, his knives drawn.

---

Sanna tilted her head and listened as he let out a laugh. Not a mocking or a scornful, a real laugh. A ghostly half-smile hovered on her lips; it was strange to hear someone laugh besides her brother, but it wasn’t a bad thing at all. “…Well, even if I was hysterical, it wouldn’t change anything,” she answered simply. She could cry and carry on like this was her own funeral, but wouldn’t help. In fact, the red-haired girl was quite sure she would only succeed in making herself all the more miserable.

She fell into deep thought and it seemed the mood for conversation was over. What would her brother do if he came home to find that she had been chosen in his absence? He would be upset (that was a serious understatement), no doubt. She hadn’t wanted to leave him all by himself, but she felt that she was more of a burden to him, something he had to watch over whether he was tired or not. She would only be a hindrance in his life—he’d become an outcast because of her, too. Sanna didn’t want that, she wanted her brother to be able to live a normal life, maybe remarry and have a real family.

But she wasn’t sure if he’d simply accept the fact that she was gone. Myrrah could be awfully stubborn when it came to certain things—namely, her.

The young man outside left a few hours after that, and was replaced with another man to guard her. She didn’t dare speak to this one and scooted as far away from the door as possible, squeezing herself into the furthest corner. This other man didn’t threaten her—he more or less ignored her. And yet, Sanna could not deny she felt uncomfortable and anxious. She huddled in the corner, unable to fall asleep with her nerves jittering about.

She spent the night trying to distract herself from the situation at hand, immersing herself in old and fond memories that made her want to smile. Her fingers clutched the charm on her necklace tightly, as if it would keep her in the past. The pink beauty of dawn found her slowly drifting to sleep, exhausted by her vigil throughout the night.

---

She dreamt that she was a rabbit, a red little rabbit, running away, fleeing, fleeing. And yet she was nowhere fast enough, no matter how hard her small paws pounded against the hard earth, the wolf with the blazing eyes was right behind her. Her heart beat rapidly in her small rabbit chest, and all of a sudden she was surrounded by impenetrable bramble bushes. She turned, only to see the frightening wolf eyes, glowing, glowing, teeth bared.

Sanna woke with a start, a gasp choking its way out of her throat. Her forehead was damp with cold sweat and she shivered, pulling both cloak and sweater to herself. It was almost like she could still feel the hot sour breath of the wolf on her face. She looked up to the barred window to check the sky and nearly screamed when a pair of eyes bored into her. She went stiff as a statue; those eyes were the same eyes in her nightmare. The man outside smiled sneeringly, the kind that left her feeling cold inside. By what she could see, he was a strong-looking man, tall and somewhat dangerous-looking. His eyes were hard and shone with an unpleasant light.

“What’s your name, pretty thing?” the voice intruded into the shack, and Sanna had to keep herself from shuddering. She didn’t like the tone of his voice.

“Sanna,” she answered finally, her voice taut with the strain of keeping herself in control. “Sanna Rilyn’rae.”

There was a pause, as if the man was tasting her name on his tongue. His mouth contorted into a feral grin. “Well, I’ll be looking forward to you.” His voice held the same smirk that was on his face and Sanna did not answer, staring back at him with distantly reproachful blue eyes. She didn’t know what he meant by that, but a bad feeling crept all over her. With one last look at her he left, leaving her crouched in the corner as afraid as she had been before.

It was just worse because of the dream, she reassured herself. Just a dream. Judging by the blue outside, it seemed it was early morning. Sanna bit her lip and slowly moved closer to the window. The village looked active; here and there men and women walked about. Strangely, she didn’t see any children—perhaps they were still sleeping? In Alba, the children would play outside, running up and down the cobbled streets. Sanna wondered if they were going to give her food—unless they planned to starve her. Her stomach was empty, but after that dream and the unpleasant visit she didn’t feel very much like eating.

Eden had been walking rather casually down a jagged row of trees when she could smell him. He reeked heavily of human, and by the way he walked over the dried leaves she knew that he was injured. Eden couldn't help but let a smile slink to her face as he spoke. It had been quite a while since she had had a good fight. She didn't even turn around when he lunged at her but rather slipped right out of his grasp before she whirled about to face him.

At first she was startled. He was tall, had a strong jaw, and his hair was fair. He wasn't at all rough and rugged appearing as the other men that had ventured to her border. Eden tilted her head slightly as she could see something inside of his eyes. There was more to him than just his obvious handsome appearance. Of course Eden would never admit out loud that she found any human remotely attractive.

"That pretty little thing last night was your sister?" Eden taunted him. She held nothing personal against him but she knew that if she provoked him than she would get a good fight even if he was at the disadvantage of being injured.

The look in his eye caught her attention once more as she blocked his attack with her blade. It was a wild and desperate look riddled with guilt. Eden could see that there was something haunting this human man.

As their blades clashed they seemed evenly matched at first. Eden was rather impressed he was holding out for so long and was rather delighted that this was a good fight. She continued to slash out at him, toying with him, until she finally felt irritated. There was some force lodged deeply inside this man that was driving him. Eden was rather frustrated by it and immediately disliked it since she couldn't understand this drive. This man was truly on a suicide mission.

The fight was longer than Eden had expected. When she realized that if they fought much longer she risked losing she quickly stepped out of his reach. Eden's dark eyes flashed and her body moved swiftly until she had disarmed the man and had him pinned against the tree.

"You dare come to my territory?" she growled as she held one of his arms behind his back while her other hand pressed her blade to his throat.

This was Eden's favorite part of a fight. It was when the man would beg for mercy to spare his life so that his children would have food every night. Eden knew it was foolish of the men to beg. They had made the decision to enter Lycridan and they had to pay the price.

"You are a fool to think that you could get your sister back. You are an even bigger fool to think that you could get passed me." Eden's mouth was inches from his ear as she whispered the words harshly to him. She pressed the blade even closer to his neck until she drew a drop of blood that ran down the length of her blade.



The morning came more quickly than Rafe would've liked. He had slept uneasily that night and had stirred more than once to the sounds that drifted through the trees. When he finally rose with the sun he left his small hut made from thick bark, mud, and stones. He stood out in the clearing and looked around at the others. The clan was quite large with thirty or so men and women but there were only two children.

Since the births were five years apart there only ever two or three children alive at one time. It was certainly unnatural in its own right to have so few children with so many adults. The few times that Rafe had ventured close to Alba he had always enjoyed seeing the children laughing and playing in the streets. Rafe wondered how different his clan life would be if the women were capable of bearing children.

The morning was quiet as the men and women moved about silently as they did every day. Since they all held the instincts and abilities of wolves it wasn't very difficult for them to be silent. No one really ever greeted one another and it was plain to see that the days passed by quietly in the clearing.

Rafe had moved to a stream a short way into the woods from the clearing where the huts stood. He washed his face and drank some before he stood and began to walk back. As he came back he saw a man standing close to the cage like building where Sanna was. Rafe's blood boiled as he recognized the man as the one who not only gave him his scare, but was also the one who would have Sanna.

Rafe waited until the man walked away before he went over to the hut. During the day there was no need for a guard and so Rafe felt more comfortable approaching it. He came to stand behind the building so he was out of sight.

"Sanna, are you all right?" he asked quietly through the wall. He hoped she was well. "I know there isn't very much I can do for you." He admitted softly. He hated that he couldn't make this easier for her.