Nothing Personal

Madison had many passions in her life aside from her intense focus on revenge, but none more dominant than her natural talent in Agility and Gymnastics. Track was a given, as she had inherited inhuman endurance and there was no shame in reaping it's benefits as she molded her natural skill into the ultimate advantage in case she ever came into a situation where retreat was a must –and it proved to save her behind on multiple occasions.

Tabitha was just as keen, as years of soccer had trained her to keep on her feet and always on the move but Madison noticed it was impossible to keep her at an even speed. Tabitha was a natural sprinter. Madison was a marathoner but somehow they made a compromising routine as the two found it necessary to train together.

Under the cover of night, the duo made a quick lap around Morison Lake outside of Madison's quiet, reserved community. The moon reflected off of the water's smooth surface as the street lights from across the street lights barely caught their figures dart by. The thudding of their tennis shoes scratching against the pavement gave them away though as they fiercely continued, focused on passing the five mile mark. Tabitha tried to remember to keep her breath even, determined to hold onto Madison's advice, as her Alpha effortlessly jogged ahead of her.

Madison relaxed in the warmth of her fleece and sweats but was bothered by the tightness of her shoes. They were a brand new pair of Nikes and she knew she would have to break them in sometime soon and thought tonight was a good time. Not even five miles in she now realized what a huge mistake it was. On the good note, at least on the next run they'd be lose and comfortable…if she could run, she sneered at the blisters she could imagine already growing on her heel. She shook off the pain as she jolted forward, determined to break her time.

"This isn't the freaking Olympics," Tabitha gasped for air as her lungs cried out of mercy. "Do you have to always be so competitive?"

Madison continued forward without a word, gaining speed, silently answering Tabitha's question for her. Tabitha cried out, frustrated and tired but she trailed behind Madison anyways, forced to dip into her reserves to reach the 110% Madison always preached.

It was evident Madison was competitive by nature. Even as child, she felt like she had to prove herself. Not to mere humans but herself, to prove that she was capable of becoming a dangerous adversary, that was capable of inflicting the same amount of damage as a hunter could. Failure was not an option for her and she hadn't experienced any kind of fall in a while that had her questioning her superiority over the rest.

Ten Years Ago…

Not even Tabitha could imagine Madison as a child although she tried. She couldn't shake off the intensity of Madison's cold eyes but truthfully, at six years old, Madison wasn't as cold as she had grown to become through the years. Maybe it was because instead of a pale blond, she adorned her natural hair color –a silky chocolate brown that contrasted well with her skin and eyes, brightening her dull grey orbs into an electric blue and making her skin almost glow.

Frank had tried his best to return her to "normal" after her parents died. Although he understood the experience was traumatic, he had tried his best to give her something to be excited about, to distract her from the family tragedy.

He enrolled her into sports, basic ones that most six years olds sucked at. He made her participate in Soccer for a short while but she hated to socialize with the other girls. He assumed it was because she was different, in the sense that a) she had a gay 'father' and b) both her parents just died. He got one thing right: she was very different from the rest of the girls but not just in her upbringing. Unbeknownst to Frank, Madison had been raised since birth that she was above humans. To be forced into a hoard of them disgusted her, even at the "innocent" age of six. She refused to return after a week. Frank sighed, giving in, but he was determined to get her passionate about something.

He met Trevor Lundgren shortly after. Mr. Lundgren was a client along with his boss, Mr. Osama, searching for a place to start a Gymnastics Gym. The idea was planted into Trevor's mind, and as much as his conscience argued with him that Madison was not one to be categorized as "glamorous" or "girly," his better side supported the whim as Trevor had described Gymnastics as an independent, fiercely competitive, and challenging sport. He quoted Trevor directly when he was coaxing the idea to Madison. At first, she made her trademark face –scrunching her nose in disgust, knitting her fine eyebrows together and pouting her lips into an adorable sour expression he had grown to love and loathe at the same time. (He wouldn't admit it out loud but at times his niece could be a bit of a brat.) Her puckered lips popped back in when he described the intensity of the sport. The idea appealed to her but her pride got in the way, making it impossible to accept the idea.

He practically groveled. "Please, just work with me here, baby." He pleaded. She nodded.

Trevor had welcomed then with gracious arms, appreciating his new clients along with a few other girls. Frank had went berserk with Madison's attire, dressing her up in bright purple, a color that went well with her natural complexion. Her hair was tied back into a pony tail finished off with a glossy white bow. Traces of glitter could be found on her face from the blinding lights over them, the ones she failed to scrape off with her sleeve in protest.

"Well she isn't happy," Trevor observed with a grin. "Don't worry Frank. She'll realize how fun this is. Why don't you wait by the stands with the rest of the parents?"

At first, Madison was indifferent, ignoring the other girls who kept poking at her leotard and asking where she got such a "pretty one." Within minutes, they learned she wasn't much fun and conversed amongst the others as Madison's eyes strayed from Trevor to the tall equipment behind him. She knew she couldn't touch it…yet…but she wondered how they worked.

"That's a vault," Trevor explained in private after the other girls separated into practice groups to 'perfect' their cartwheels. "And those are the uneven bars." He pointed to the large stump in the middle of the room.

"How do you do the vault?" She asked sincerely. Trevor was taken aback by her intensity, noticing firsthand how different she was. Instead of trying to fit in with the other girls, her focus was on more challenging objects such as the items on topic.

"You run on the mat," he pointed to the blue padding on the floor leading up to the vaulting table, "to gain speed and then you leap onto the vaulting table," he demonstrated with open palms, "hands first."

"No feet?" She interrupted. He shook his head.

"No," he replied. "Like a handstand," he explained, pointing to one of the younger girls who struggled to maintain balance and eventually tumbled on her back. "And you flip in the air before dismounting."

"Dismounting?"

"Where you land on your feet," he explained.

Madison tried to picture it in her head but she couldn't, frustrating her to no end.

"Can I try it?"

Trevor bellowed a laugh, startling her. She stepped back from the short man, as he was barely 5'6, and glared at him, offended. "I don't think you can do it quite yet, kiddo. Can you even do a cartwheel?"

Accepting it as a challenge, Madison prepared herself after distancing herself. She raised her hands as her intense blue eyes trained onto the spot she planned to land on. She flung herself forward, expecting to succeed but surprised herself when she tumbled onto the mat, rolling off of it. She lay still, stunned at her failure. She couldn't believe it. Her face reddened with embarrassment as her eyes lined with hot, wet moisture, humiliated at her public failure.

"It's all right to mess up," Trevor consoled her, noticing her eyes glisten but she blinked them away furiously as she got up, determined to correct her mistake. He was impressed by her determination as she desperately wanted to prove to herself she could do this. As if everyone disappeared, she forgot about the girls giggling behind her back or Trevor trying to remind her it was perfect human to mess up.

But she wasn't human. She wasn't "perfectly human." She was anything but. She was a proud product of Lycan lineage and she was determined to do her roots justice. Tumble after tumble, every bad twist and angle, she learned to improve each minor error until she could cartwheel correctly.

"She's a fierce one," Trevor observed more intently on the young seven year old. "I've never seen anyone as…"

"Intense?" Frank offered next to him. He too was fascinated (and slightly relieved) at Madison's persistence on such a simple move. At least she was focused on something. Trevor nodded, agreeing with the word.

"I never saw a child focus like that before," Trevor commented, awed by the little brunette as she repeated another perfect cartwheel. She had gotten it right but was determined to make sure it stayed that way. Then the kicker: The way she kept her legs together, feet touching, hands straight in the air and body straight as a stick while her head hung back, shoulders relaxed.

"A perfect dismount…" He trailed. His mouth hung ajar as he admired her poise, identifying perfect potential in her. "She has talent, Frank. This might just be the sport for her."

Frank sighed, relieved and flattered but no realizing the extent Trevor had meant. This wasn't just a hobby, Trevor had in mind, but possibly a career, perhaps even Olympics but he knew he first had to harness her focus and direct her to the crucial points. From the self-disciple she already presented with her constant repetitions, he didn't have to work too much on that.

A year later, Madison was set to prove herself on the vault but not before Trevor had her experiment with the balance beam. She had the perfect physique for it, slim and slender, aligning with the beam just right. Backflip after somersault, backhand toss versus pivot. Trevor had her try it all. Of course, she missed a couple of landings and took a few hard blows but she was determined to be on top (and she was.)

She also had the ideal dismount, landing perfectly 99.9% of the time. (The one slip up where she took an extra step still haunts her. She refuses to forget about it every time in the last five seconds before she leaps off the final few inches end of the balance beam.)

She didn't particularly care for the uneven bars as she did for the vault, as she wanted to prove to Trevor from the first day she came into his gym. It was her moment of truth when he had asked her to practice her launch. She ran full speed ahead, hands ready to touch the padding before twisting backwards, like she had seen in videos, but she couldn't reverse to face forward again, her time cut shorter than she expected. It was a mistake that was always put on top of her priority list.

"Good start," Trevor had compliment but she didn't need compliments, she told him. She needed instructions. At eight years old, she had been training at an exhausting level that most girls would succumb to but she was resilient and Trevor admired that.

Her natural competitiveness had raised her to the top ranks, enough that Trevor realized she exceeded his level of coaching. She needed someone better, the same coach who had practically tortured him during his college years. It was a hesitant decision as he didn't want to force Coach Burgess on her but her eyes dared him, telling him she could handle it and he believed her.

Not once did she break. She refused to break. Day by day, from ten years old to present day, Madison had earned a lethal reputation as a dominating overall-round competitor. Vaulting and uneven bars were her strong points as she had been known as owning the air, earning the most height over the rest of the girls, with a superior dismount, too. Flooring was her most hated routine, as Frank had discovered long ago she didn't embrace her feminine side as much as he had hoped she would've. She was still rough-and-tumble but yet graceful and elegant in her routine. She and her coach admit it was not one of her strongest point though (not that they would announce it to the rest of the hungry competitors.)

She didn't push herself for her Coach or her parents but herself and not for the medals or awards but for her own self-assurance. It took a lot to keep balance while somersaulting five feet in the air, landing perfectly on a thin beam with only your toes to cling onto the edge. It took accuracy and precision to be able to predict the right momentum to catch the second beam and be able to hold the speed and strength needed to carry you on top of the bar and to hold with one hand for that one crucial second while you use the other to reverse. It took strength and power to be able to push off of a vault, enough to gain sufficient height to twist before posing her body for a suitable dismount.

It was a demanding and often body-breaking sport that she craved. It was a cut-throat competition and only the strongest survive. She fit right in and dominated, just like how the natural order should.

Present Day

"What are you reading?" Tabitha curiously asked after she squeezed through Madison's door. Her room was scarcely lit, pathetically illuminated by a small corner lamp. The light was enough that it allowed Madison to continuously read her book. As Tabitha asked, Madison flipped a page, letting her eyes flitter over the words.

"The Count of Monte Crisco," Madison replied softly, snagged by the plot of the ancient novel even if she was only halfway through.

"Haven't you read that book before? I swear to God, we have," Tabitha remembered clearly. Mrs. What's-Her-Face made her class read it during freshman year for Honor's English. She loathed the book and couldn't comprehend the complex nature of it. She much preferred Tortilla Curtain, heck even To Kill a Mockingbird than The Count of Monte Carlo.

But Madison was different. Her mind was just as complex as the author's imagination. She could understand it all. She could embrace it. In fact, as Tabitha tried to remember even the basic plot, Madison would be inspired by it, as it was all about a man's quest for Revenge for those who exiled and imprisoned him to cover their own crimes. "Why the hell would you reread something that was practically forced down our throats?"

"Maybe if you took time to realize what wonderful piece of works some of these novels were, you would understand my fascination is with a few," Madison explained without moving her eyes from the page. "You would've learned something, too, instead of settling with a B in that class."

"How…?" Tabitha questioned, not sure how Madison knew that. "Did you look…? Oh my God, Mads, you looked at my grades! Why the hell would you do that?" She realized by Madison's expression that she had played her usual games.

"I had to know I wasn't accepting a complete idiot as my Beta," Madison said coolly, a sly grin playing on her lips. Tabitha gaped before laughing awkwardly, not knowing how she should respond –whether she should fight her urge to snap at Madison for her prying or accept it as an odd form of flattery. She just wasn't sure.

Tabitha peered over Madison's shoulder to see how far she was in the book, assuming it was far as Madison was halfway through. Her eyes widened when she processed the words weren't English but French.

"What the…How can you read that?"

Tabitha knew Madison was fluent in another language -Russian –but she didn't think Madison had embraced French, as she noticed Madison was still plagued with pages worth of homework of the said language each night.

"I know enough to know the basics." Madison replied modestly.

"You consider this," Tabitha motioned to the finely printed words littering the page, "basics?"

Madison didn't reply, too embedded in the book. Even if this was her fifth time reading it, she still loved it. Edmond's ingenuity and determination impressed her. She also admired the way he knew his victims enough to accurately predict their movements and actions. She had to be honest though when she disliked the way he socialized with them. She didn't understand why it was necessary to flatter them, grace them with his presence, and give them a grand entrance like Jay Gatsby.

She found it a waste of time. She enjoyed sneaking up on her enemy's in the dark. That why they had no idea she was even there.

Clover snuck into Madison's room, waiting for her master to leave for bed. Madison bid the duo a look and a goodnight before they left for their own bed.

Across town, Harrison Schmidt had finished turning off the lights in his modest little Library and had closed the glass door behind him, keys ready to lock it for the night. His arthritis ridden fingers struggled to straighten the key. It shook incessantly in his grasp, the rattling twice as loud as it should be in the midst of the night.

"Harry," a chilling voice spoke behind him, startling the elderly man who had dropped his keys onto the pavement in a moment of shock. The dark figure kneeled down to snatch the keys and handed them back to the man who sighed heavily, relived when he accepted the motion of kindness. Harrison focused at his face shrouded by a hood. He was immediately taken by the man's electric blue eyes piercing through him.

"Luca," Harrison whispered. His faced paled. "What are you doing here?" He asked frantically in his native language.

Luca nodded, understand the man's reason for hysteria. "This is too important of business to do over phone." He explained in deep Russian. Harrison nodded slowly. "May I?" Luca offered, opening the door and stepping aside to let the elderly man back inside. Luka reached over to flip a switch, illuminated the back rows of books in the farthest corner of the store.

"This is dangerous," Harrison warned Luca.

"I'm aware of that," Luca calmly replied. Unlike his older brother though, Luca didn't inherit his father's ideal poker face. Instead he received his mother's expressive hazel eyes and dark, mahogany hair which made his skin so much paler in contrast. "But I'm not leaving my family behind, not again."

"We're not even sure she was her," Harrison reasoned.

Luca scrutinized him with dark, burning eyes. "Have you ever been wrong Harrison? My father trusted you with everything. He believed your words and you never proved him wrong. I don't have any reason to doubt you, too. If you said she's alive, then damn it, she's alive."

"And we should leave it alone," Harrison begged. "She's been safe for this long, you have, too. There is no reason that you should start anything up again."

"I don't trust her here, with anyone but family. I will find her and bring her back with me."

Harrison's eyes widened. "You shouldn't do that!" He begged.

"She has family, she has a pack, and she has a responsibility to takeover." Luca explained. "Family comes first though," he said, looking outside through the blinds. "She needs to come back home with me and Ana to be with the people who can guide her correctly in this world."

"She seems to be navigating just fine," Harrison lied. He honestly didn't know how she was coping but he knew here was better in Uglich. "Your father left Uglich for a reason, Luca. There was too much bloodshed for you children to live in."

"And because he was coward, most of our family was slaughtered," Luca snidely remarked, bitter and betrayed.

"He was not a coward," Harrison defended angrily. "He was looking out for all of you! After Anya died, he knew you three would follow soon after if he kept you there. You should be grateful! If it wasn't for him, you'd be dead along with the rest of them! And I guarantee you, Madison will join them soon after if you dare bring her back to that wretched place!"

Luca kept his lips in a firm line, understanding Harrison's role as appointed guidance from Sloane to look after his only daughter if there was ever an instance he and Aubrey were to perish. How unfortunate the reality was that their chances at meeting death were more common than he would've liked.

"Madison has my father's blood flowing in her. Sloane was supposed to take over the Alpha line after he died but he didn't come back. He didn't take over his duties as the leader he was supposed to be. Madison can. She had the warm blood flowing through her and with the rest of our guidance she can restore order that is so desperately needed."

"You will not bring her into this mess! This is not what Sloane wanted! I understand you have some bitter feelings towards your brother for abandoning his post but being an Alpha wasn't his only duty. He was a father and he was protecting the best interests of Madison, just like you should, instead of using her as a pawn to regain political stance!"

"This is not political!" Luca objected loudly, shaking the older man to his core. Luca's hazel eyes ignited to a blood thirsty red, warning Harrison that Luca was close to phasing. "This is about avenging our family, our bloodline! We were once the most feared pack in Yaroslavl oblast! Now we're all but a myth. A legend in the mist of what we once were! We need to protect our people, Harry, and we can't do it without a true Alpha!"

"Maybe it is better off," Harrison argued passionately. Luca stared at the elderly man outraged. "This feud that has burned for centuries has spilt so much blood that Uglich's dirt is moist and red. Finally it's settled down, people can continue with their lives, and you want to start it up all over again? Quit this nonsense about going back to the Traditional ways, Luca."

"What a hypocrite," Luca snarled. "You're father stood by my grandfather. He supported him through and through. We're practically family Harrison, and you have the audacity to turn your back on them when they need it most."

Harrison narrowed his eyes at Luca. "My father was also a Nazi. Don't assume I support my father or his partners because I'm well aware of how wrong they truly are, and so should you. What they did and what crimes they committed should be taken into account, not pardoned and condoned. You have been brainwashed, son, into this extremist idea of an uprising and I will not let Madison fall for something as ridiculous and suicidal as this. Sloane never supported it and he'd be rolling in his grave if he learned his younger brother was trying to coax his baby girl into her death for something as stupid as power."

"She could gain something from it too," Luca bribed with a smirk. "Power, status, servants…"

"You mean slaves," Harrison corrected him coldly. "You know that's not ethical and Sloane did not support the idea of imprisonment and enslavement."

"No," Luca agreed. "He wasn't, because he killed all the captured enemies on site. It was such a waste."

"He closed the chapter in his life for good. Please, don't condemn his daughter to a similar fate as the rest of his family. Don't drag her back to that Hell on earth."

"What's stopping me?" Luca challenged, taking a step forward. He had five inches on the frail old man and he used it to his advantage as he stared Harrison down with dominant brown eyes. The elderly man wasn't deterred though. Although Sloane had never laid a hand on him, he had once been scared of him simply because of his cold stare and intimidating height but he grew used to it.

Also, unknown to everyone else, Sloane had anticipated other threats that could possible harm his closest ally in the small town and had given him a secret weapon that would give him an advantage.

"If you ever feel cornered or threatened, or in dire help, you imagine me, understand? You think of me and I'll be there." Sloane's low words calmed Harrison.

He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to recall an image. It was supposed to be a frightening one, a blackened wolf with ruby red eyes glaring into space with murderous intent, but to him, it brought protection.

Luca's eyes immediately snapped to the darkened corner of the shop where he registered a low, spine-chilling growl he recognized eerily. His eyes were caught in a deer-in-headlights stare with a blackened shadow of a four-legged shadow, one that was in mid formation before it took upon the shape of a familiar animal. He could see the piercing red orbs spear him and he was frozen on the spot.

"Even after death Sloane protects those closest to him," Luca sneered. "With his protection, I can't touch you old man, or else I'll be ripped to shreds." As if to prove it, the shadowed creature let out a snarl, baring its razor sharp teeth. Luca took this as a dire warning and distanced himself from the old man. Harrison didn't dare to open his eyes yet, scared to see Sloane's true figure in the flesh. It was a haunting image in his mind.

Luca knew his brother was fiercely protective of his family –a bitter truth that had set in long ago when he realized he was no longer considered family in Sloane's eyes after he had abandoned them. If he was guarding this old man –an old acquaintance, then there was no doubt he was guarding Madison, too.

"Some brother you are," he cursed at the blackened animal. "Turning your back on this family, letting them die when you could have prevented it."

The wolf growled back in response as if you retort back, "who are you to accuse?"

"I see that this is a dead end," Luca surrendered but there was no remorse in his eyes. "I may not be able to touch Madison but I will get to her somehow using the same black magic you are using to stick around."

The wolf stepped forward threateningly at Luca's warning. His eyes were burning with fury. No one would put his daughter in danger's way. No one!

Luca stalked out of the small business just as Harrison collapsed onto the cold floor. He finally turned around to face the wolf he suspected hid in the corner but found it void. Sloane had all but disappeared but Harrison couldn't shake off the feeling he was being watched.

"I can't do it," Harrison admitted. "I can't protect her. I'm too tired. I can barely stand on my own." He cried out, wincing as he slowly pulled himself up. "You need to do it, Sloane. You need to protect her from the others."

He heard one last growl before a cold swept him from the knees down. He turned his head towards the door where he felt the cold was leading to and saw a pair of beady red eyes staring bad at him before a large head bowed in a curt nod. The wolf then raised its head and unleashed a long, lonely howl that shook the town to its core.

"May God have mercy on those souls," Harrison prayed, imagining the murderous fury of a father at those who intended harm towards his only offspring.

Madison bolted out of bed when she heard a similar howl echo down her lonely street. It didn't sound like anyone she knew but her instincts called upon her to investigate the intruder in her territory. She ran down the stairs and out the double French door with nothing but shorts and a tank top, exposing her arms and legs to the bitter chill of the blackened evening.

She searched all around her property in a frantic haste, concerned about her family inside. Whoever was stupid enough to even endanger them were as dead as a dog. Her eyes glowed furiously red as she stalked forward toward the fence border that she leapt over effortlessly into the neighbor's yard in case the wandering wolf sought refuge there under their elongated deck but what she saw stopped her in her steps instead.

To her right, in the narrow space between her house and the next, like a telescope, she could see in a small section of woods a figure pace. She couldn't make a shape due its blackened color blended in with the night. She stepped forward until it raised its head and struck her with a pair of paralyzing red eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as the scene was all too familiar. The other wolf didn't move though as it stayed firm beside a small Oak.

The wolf let a mournful howl before walking slowly to his right. She watched for a moment, unable to make a move, until the wolf abruptly stopped and perked his head in a motion as if to say "follow me."

She was hesitant at first, distrusting of the new figure but something about it was eerily familiar. She couldn't place where she recognized it but it gave her a small sense of security. She felt compelled to and suddenly started to step closer to the mysterious figure. She kept a safe distance though, unsure of this wolf.

His intent didn't mean harm, she had hoped. He didn't growl or snarl. He was silent throughout the short walk. A feeling crept up to her, a chill, that she knew was not caused by the wind but her paranoia as she turned down a familiar street.

DARTMOUTH RD

She swallowed a hard, painful lump and stopped abruptly, scared and shaken to continue. Why was this wolf leading her down memory lane? She shivered violently before surprising warmth coated her. She couldn't tell where it came from, as nothing was shielding her skin from the cold. She was as bare as ever.

The wolf turned its large head around and nodded it twice, begging Madison to begin following again. She shook her head disobediently.

"I can't," she cried. "I can't do this! I haven't done this in years! Please don't make me do this!" She was in hysterics as she began to take great steps back but suddenly she found the wolf behind her with no explanation how it could've leapt that great of distance without a sound. It was almost impossible to her. She shrieked in surprise and stumbled onto the ground but the wolf didn't move, continuing to stare her down with wise eyes. Despite the intense redness of his pupils, they were solemn and calm. "What do you want? Why are you here? What do you want with me?" She asked hysterically.

The wolf said nothing as it lifted its head and stared down the street with an intense glare in its eyes. She turned her head to face the same direction and gulped, knowing the stump of her old house was only three lots down.

"I'm sorry," she cried out as she gathered herself off the ground. "I can't. I don't know why you want me to go there but I can't. I'm so sorry." She excused herself and darted in the opposite direction.

The wolf turned its head to watch her run fiercely back to her home route and bowed its head, dismayed. It did not follow her and began to fade in the night, leaving behind ominous fog to coat the lonely street.

It felt like an awful dream, she thought, as she climbed into bed. She was cold and heavy and on the verge of tears. She hadn't had that nightmare in years, she remembered, clinging to her pillow, but where did this wolf come? Why was it here? She thought it was a figment of her imagination at first and started to doubt it was even real. She shook in her sheets, unable to shake off the haunting feeling of her past.

"It's in incapability to face her past that that hinders her closure," Harrison realized after he received the vision from Sloane's spirit. He climbed out of bed and retrieved a small, worn book from his personal collection from across the room. It was of Native American making as ancient animal drawings covered the face of the book. He flipped through a couple pages before setting on one, a picture of a pack headlining the page while underneath, neat font took over the rest of the page and the next.

He didn't have to reread it for the seventh-hundredth time to know what it said. It was burned into his memory. A wolf's spirit poses as a protector from an unseen threat. He or she is only seen when a descendent is in danger of something they cannot foresee and shows themselves to the relative in ways that the person can most understand. They are known for wise and compassionate guidance, to point to the right direction when a person is lost, to seek safety and refuge. These spirits are also proven to be fatal and ferocious protectors against any physical threat, infamous for killing the threat on sight.

But…Harrison had figured these spirits can only be called when danger presents itself. They cannot be conjured at will to fill a want, such as closure or to fill a void. That was the harsh reality of it all. They were to not to be taken advantage of and that was the system put in place to prevent it. They are to be held at arms-length to fulfill their family duties and when the job is done, they are to recede back to the afterlife and watch from above the clouds. That's how the Sioux had written it.

What Harrison had fascinating though about the whole subject was that a Spirit was not a whole spirit but just the animal counterpart that was most feral out of the whole human being. For Sloane, his most feral counterpart was his wolf, triggered by Anger and raw emotion. It was this emotion that had been triggered when Luca had dared to threaten to bring Madison back to Uglich to a life of pain and suffering, angry that Luca would be low enough to deceive his niece –Sloane's precious daughter –and instantly his natural instinct to protect his child was brought up to the surface in a burning rage.

Family was the most significant and important aspect of a wolf, as it was a lifetime commitment, even after death, so it only seemed suitable that the wolf would be the one to guide Madison through her darkest hour. It best understood her.

Harrison contemplated lending this book to Madison –if he ever had a chance to find her but then shook his head. "No," he realized as he put the book back. "This is something she has to figure out on her own." He hesitantly went back to bed with a heavy heart, knowing it would not be easy for Madison to comprehend all of this but he had faith in Sloane's spirit that he would protect Madison to the fullest extent.

It wasn't just Luca Sloane had worried about. He had been watching from afar for a little while, even before Harrison had called him during that appalling scene in the little shop. His little Mads had put herself on the wrong path, motivated by vengeance that he knew was not her responsibility to fulfill. She had put herself in danger in many cases and it scared him to think how close Madison's life could've been cut short. It was not her time to join Aubrey and him and he'd be damned if she dug her own grave for something such as 'closure.' If she had any sense left, she would've realized the perpetrator behind his death was just as dead as he was and she shouldn't be lifting every other rock to look for someone else to blame because it wasn't as 'healing' and satisfactory for her.

If only she knew there was another way to receive the closure she most definitely needed was just around the corner, on Dartmouth Rd. That's where it all began and ended. She desperately needed to go back there and face it, no matter how painful it was but she had yet to go over that hill, the toughest transition she'll ever make but the grass was greener on the other side when she could finally pass that.

He was determined to set her on the right path before any more blood was spilt. A storm was brewing and he could foresee that if he didn't intervene soon, she was about to do something she'll regret.