***ALICE***
"I shouldn't have left him," I said, my voice came out shaky. Tears, forming up beneath my eyes. My chest thudded as guilt flooded in through every corner of me. "Why wouldn't Roosevelt just leave us alone!" I screamed out, stomping the floor as hard as I could.
"Did you just say Roosevelt?" Lancelot cut in, tightening his jaw and clenching his fists.
"Yes… yes, Roosevelt." I responded, my voice still trembling but determined to find out what ties him to the man that had just taken my father captive.
Lancelot raised his head slightly, taking a deep breath. His expression darkened. "Roosevelt slaughtered my parents… my whole pack," he said, voice rough, every word came out painful, like he was reliving the moments. "All because of some stupid prophecy about me."
Silence spread between us for a while, broken only by the sound of his uneven breathing. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat. "Only Derick and I made it out alive."
His gaze shifted then, tracing toward the far side of the room. I followed it, that was when I noticed a man I hadn't realized was standing there, half-hidden in the dim light. Lancelot's head dropped low, the weight of his past seemed to still press down hard on him.
I froze. I could feel the pain and agony in his voice, undiluted and sharp, and for a brief moment, I almost forgot about my own loss—my father.
He looked back at me suddenly. "Hey… are you okay? You were out for a minute." His hand rested carefully on my shoulder, steady and warm.
I blinked hard, struggling to get my breathing right. "I… I think I just saw flashes of how my father was captured. Right now. Like I was there. It felt too real to be a dream." My voice trembled, barely audible. I expected him to be fazed, but instead, he only studied me with so much calmness that unsettled me.
"You're one of us now," Lancelot said quietly.
My brows raised in curiosity. "One of you? Wh… what are you talking about?" I stuttered, taking a step closer to him.
His gaze didn't waver. "You're a werewolf now. The vision you just saw… it means the wolf spirit, Púka, has taken an interest in you."
The word werewolf hit me like a heavy blow against my ribs. My breath caught for a moment, and suddenly the world tilted. A humorless laugh escaped my throat, bitter and broken. "That's impossible. I'm… I'm just me—human."
But my mind traced back to last night—the flash of claws raking through my neck, the burning fever that consumed me until morning. My hand drifted to the scar along my neck. Pieces coming together in ways I didn't want them to.
"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "No, this can't be happening."
"You feel it already, don't you?" Lancelot's voice softened, almost kind, but laced with truth. "The way your senses sharpen. The way your body doesn't feel like your own anymore. You're not imagining it."
I took a few steps back, panic rushing up my throat. "So what? Every full moon I turn into some monster, and then what? That's my life now?" My voice cracked, and tears blurred my vision.
Lancelot's expression darkened. He didn't even try to sugarcoat it. "Yes. And if you want to survive, you'll need to learn control."
Those words sank heavy into me. My father was out there, Roosevelt's prisoner, and I… I wasn't even human anymore.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw something, but all that came out was a choked breath. The world felt like it had been ripped out from under my feet, yet I had no choice but to find a way to keep standing.
"You have to come with me," Lancelot said suddenly, stepping closer and pressing his palm against my hands. His tone was soft, polished, and firm. He didn't pity me—something about that steadiness only made me fall harder for him, though I hated myself for it.
"There's no way I'm coming with you. I need to find a way to save my father first." I snapped, yanking my hand from his grip.
A gentle smile curled out of his lips. "Alpha Roosevelt is a common enemy. Trust me, you need all the help you can get if you're to save your father. And you need help in mastering your wolf abilities too." His voice lowered, almost a warning, before he turned his back and started walking away.
I stood frozen, torn between pride and desperation. In the end, I had no choice but to follow.
The journey stretched long, but the experience softened the weight on my heart. Nature found ways to calm the storm in my chest. The morning breeze brushed against my face softly, carrying the scent of damp earth. Birds chirped as if the world wasn't crumbling around me. For a brief moment, it almost felt peaceful.
Still, questions burned inside me.
"Lancelot!" I called out as he walked ahead, lost in a quiet conversation with his friend.
He turned slightly, calm as ever. "Yes?" His golden eyes reflected the sun, it was beautiful.
I swallowed my nerves. "Is there a way to turn me back to a human?" My voice was thin, almost desperate, as I searched his gaze for hope.
His expression darkened immediately. "You have to kill the wolf that turned you." He said it flatly, almost carelessly, before turning back to his friend.
My stomach tightened, and I stared hard at his back for answers. "Did I… say something wrong?" I mumbled to myself, replaying his reaction over and over, questioning what wound I'd pressed without knowing.
Hours passed. The ceaseless walking was starting to strain my legs, but my mind was made up. Whatever it is I have to go through, however hard—I must find a way to set things right.
Finally we arrived
The place was unlike anywhere I had ever seen. The air itself felt different, lighter and cleaner, as if it belonged to another world. Wooden houses lined the edges, simple yet strong, and streams cut through the land with water so clear it reflected the sky. Few people lived there, but serenity wrapped around everything, so perfect it almost hurt.
"Welcome to my pack," Lancelot said, breaking through thoughts. He handed me a wooden cup of water, his tone casual but his eyes searching.
"It's beautiful," I murmured, but my gaze lingered more on his face than the scenery. Every detail of him carved into my mind—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his golden eyes softened under light. You could say I'd fallen for him at a reckless pace.
"Lancelot! The council meeting is starting." A young boy from the pack called out from the doorpost, bowing his head before disappearing.
"That's my call," Lancelot said as he left swiftly.
"He's a council member too?" I mumbled, brushing my fingers through my hair, unable to mask the strange admiration welling inside me.
Minutes later, he returned. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," he said earnestly, taking the seat beside me. It had barely been a few minutes, yet he seemed genuinely conscious of leaving me alone. Something about that thoughtfulness made my heart stir. Maybe he's a good guy, I thought silently, almost against my will.
Then his expression darkened, his voice dropping into something heavier. "I got intel on your father's location—where Alpha Roosevelt is holding him captive."
Those words made my heart start thudding violently. I quickly leaned forward, my hands gripping my knees.
"He's being held at Impel Down," Lancelot continued, his voice low. "The biggest underground prison where vicious criminals are kept."
The name itself sent shivers down my spine. My heart could barely take it, the pounding inside me deafening.
Lancelot's hand rested on my back, steady and assuring. "We'll find a way to get him out."
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to cling to that promise. But deep down, fear clinged to me, whispering that nothing would ever be the same again—not my father, not me, not the world I thought I knew.
And yet, for the first time since Roosevelt ripped my life apart, I felt the faintest spark of hope.
After sharing the intel, Lancelot straightened and gently guided me to the room I'd be staying—a small space that looked quite similar to the one I was staying at Albanon. "You'll be safe here," he said quietly before stepping back, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.
"Things will only get better from here," I assured myself, patting my own shoulder as I stared into nothing.