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The silence was deafening.

"I have no idea why she lost control like that." Degar said in a gentle voice.

"I do. She must have figured that I left Naturiah." Wolfariane said simply. She loses control often whenever he's not here because she thinks he is abandoning her. Again.

Massive wave of guilt filled him, clenching his heart to painful degrees.

Nalaila, who can't even bear the touch of anybody... including his. Especially his.

Nalaila, who has been in wolf form for more than eighteen years now. Trapped in the wolf...

Nalaila, his poor little sister. He has given up on ever seeing her again in mortal form.

He closed his eyes, and there she stood in mortal form, right there in the memories that are beginning to fade with time but he is doing everything he can to grab onto so desperately.

Pale hair so blond it was almost golden, her beautiful brown eyes, her beautiful smiles...

"Leave me, Degar. I want to be alone." Alone. Always alone. He is used to it.

"Of course, Alpha King. But what about the ring?"

"We will make plans about it later. Gather the Enforcers for a meeting in the evening. They need to know what is going on." His eyes remained closed as he issued these commands.

"I will do as you wish." He inclined his eyes and faced the door.

"Degar?" His tone was low. Too low.

The quiet tone told Degar how badly he's hurt. How terribly he is loosing blood. How urgently he needs to start healing.

"Yes, Alpha King?" He answered.

"When you are done with your duties, check on the female. You or Eline can take her around town later, so she can familiarize herself with this place. But stick to the Werewolf Clan and the Cougar Clan." Hepaused, "Inquire about her illness and meds from her, so you can arrange for getting the new meds she can live on."

"Of course, as you wish."

"Don't forget to send a message to Cronus, Josiah, and all Changelings out there about the resurfacing of the Wolfhunters." Just the thought of it made his tone hardening. "They need to be careful."

After what happened eighteen years ago, the Wolfhunters had gone into hiding. They'd laid so low, it was almost like they went extinct. Until last night.

Long after Degar left, as his blood dripped from the clawing on his body, hate boiling through his veins at the thought of humans and the pain they have caused him. The pain they caused Nalaila.

But even as he sat there with those open wounds both on his body and in his enraged heart, his head was filled with the thoughts of a particular sassy woman, with a sinful body, a smartass mouth...and the hand of a thieving tom.

The thought only made him scowl harder.

CHAPTER 19. THE HUMAN FEMALE.

Flaora got up from the floor with the fluidity of a cat and stretched languidly, "Are you sure you don't want to be...uhm...intimate?" Her voice was hoarse, her eyes tinged with regret.

Wolfariane tugged his half-hard erection back into his pants, and shook his head, "No, this will do." She'd given him head, "Now, I need to get some sleep."

Her eyes racked his body hungrily but worried at the same time. "Those wounds are too fetal, they will not heal just by sleeping. And I heard you ran all night last night, it is not an option now." She paused, "Are you sure you don't need me to—"

"I'm sure. Go away." He snapped, the wolf growling through his mouth.

Her eyes widened. He has never snapped at her before. "O-Oh, okay. I'm s-sorry, I d-didn't—"

"No," his eyes closed and he took a deep breath, "No, I apologize for snapping at you, Flaora, it is not your fault, you were only trying to help." He's frustrated and angry at the same time. "Just go away, okay?"