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Amelia came and sat beside her, taking her hand in hers. "No, you don't have to apologize, it wasn't your fault. I was grateful when you suddenly started breathing again. You have no idea what you did for me then."

"I just started breathing again?"

"Yes. The doctors had covered your face, ready to wheel you to the morgue, but your father had rushed into the hospital, needing to see you. That was so fortunate because the doctors stopped. He began talking to you and screaming at you not to go." Amelia's eyes glazed over with memories.

She smiled, "My heart melted for him then. You know after your father died, I was heartbroken. I swore that I'll never marry another man. All the while Alfred came on to me, I didn't feel a thing for him so I rejected his advances. But then, you...got sick. He stayed night and day with me in the hospital. I never knew what I would have done if I had to face your...sickness alone."

Ismena smiled too, feeling grateful to her stepdad. She has never thought of him as her stepdad, or Valentina as her stepsister, because they all loved each other so much. They might have never had enough growing up, but they were a family.

"And that day in the hospital when he was screaming at you not to leave me, I started having feelings for him. And when you heard that scream and began breathing again, a piece of my heart went to him." Closing her eyes, Amelia took a deep breath and finished with a whisper, "That was one of the best days of my life...watching you come back to me."

Ismena placed her head on her mother's chest then and allowed the warmth to spread over her as Amelia's arms wrapped around her. "I love you, mama."

"I love you too, my child." Amelia responded, patting her hair soothingly.

At forty-five, her mother is a stunning beauty to behold, but fear for Valentine's life seems to have aged her a bit. Ismena was happy that her sister will be alright.

"Speaking of father, where is he?" She asked curiously.

Just then, the door opened and her father walked in, carrying nylon bags. Just like mother, he looked like he hasn't slept a wink all night.

His eyes found Ismena and a bright smile widened his mouth, warmth in his eyes. "My child."

Ismena pulled away from her mother to hug her father, "Dad." She whispered.

"I went out to get supplies and food for us. Your mother hasn't eaten a thing since yesterday's afternoon. She needs to eat something."

"Yeah, she needs to." Ismena spared her mother a stern glance, "Starving yourself will do us no good, mother."

Amelia flushed guiltily but placed her head on her husband's thigh. "You are right. With my two children here, I'm suddenly feeling ravenous."

NEW YORK

Wolfaraine woke to the growl of his cougar. As usual, he was in cougar-form, seeing the ceiling of his bedroom in green colors.

Inwardly, he effortlessly willed himself to shift back to his mortal form. Sitting up on the bed, he tried not to let the restlessness of the cougar affect him, knowing fully well that he is long overdue for sex, a run, a hunt, or a fight. In this case, a run.

He did not think much about the growling and snapping of his cougar because he knows that side of him has been grumpy for a while now. It only became worse when he came back to his home the night before.

This house which was his most favorite of all his houses scattered almost all over the world, has become his most loathed. It reminded him vividly of his last memories of happy Nalaila before doom befell them, in this house.

This house eats at him because he is unable to hide his guilt of being unable to protect his sister, eighteen years ago, in this house. That was why he'd stayed in a hotel for the past week.

But, even though this house haunts him, he could not resist coming to it. Even as much as it haunts him, it also made his memories of his sister in human form come alive. Here, he could almost see her face again through the memories.

The cougar flexed and unflexed its claws, baring his fangs. Wolfaraine rose from the bed and shrugged his robe on.

He needs a run. The cougar's restlessness is starting to get to him. He felt like there are eyes on him.

Shrugging it off as the result of the cougar's uneasiness, he made his way out of the bedroom and started down the stairs.

He was at the bottom of the stairs when he felt it again. Eyes.

Eyes, watching him.

He was going to look past it again when the wolf rose, its claws elongated and it roared in rage. Wolfaraine knew it then with certainty.

Intruders.