Rowan
I speedily walked towards the library, the blush still not faded from my face. 'Alpha Lunev. Research. Shove the picture of her bare shoulder out of your mind.' I thought. Tried to focus on the library, on research. I entered the large wooden doors of the royal pack house's library. I started going through the history section, moving six hundred years back, letting my fingers trail over the backs of the books. I reached the right bookshelf and started searching. I soon reached a book labeled "alphas of the XX00's" I grabbed it and made my way over to a silent corner with an armchair and sat down.
Opening the book, the first page was a overlook of the most important alphas of the century, the list of course starting with my father. 'No.1 alpha king Lucien pg. 5' Followed by another familiar name. 'No.2 the queen of rogues pg. 34.' The queen of rogues, or the queen of the north, was a story which used to be told to young wolves. History books rarely ever contained her as she was seen as a myth by most, and if she was real, she would have been the only female alpha in our history. It was said she was an orphan who single-handedly united the rogues and made them bow to her. She disappeared years later, but till this day, it's said that the rogues still await her return. My grandmother enjoyed telling the story to me as a child.
No.3 was alpha Thane, the oldest alpha alive currently. He was always on bad terms with my father, which led to me seeking him as an ally, but his eastern pack had sent back every letter unopened. No.4 was alpha Nevenn, the southern alpha and the grandfather of current Alpha Kevell, who was about to retire and pass the title on to most likely his son Ryen, or the older twin daughter Rienne. No.5 was alpha Drin of the west, who died without any known family, causing my father to appoint one of his closest men as the new alpha, whose son was till this day a pain in my ass. I would need to have him replaced sooner or later. Finally at No.6 I saw the name I had been looking for. 'Alpha Lunev pg. 207.' I flipped forth quickly, but what I read disturbed me.
Nymeria
I had grabbed a white turtleneck with long sleeves and the longest skirt I could find. I barely knew anything about the fashion of the current time, but it wouldn't surprise me if I was ridiculed for what I wore.
I turned the light off and sat on the side of my bed in darkness, leisurely braiding my hair as blood poured down my face, pooled in my hands. So weak. I had gone so weak.
After a while the door opened and I opened my eyes, turning to the door to see Emyra and the female from before's faces, clearly in shock. I should have cleaned up the blood. Emyra hurried over, mumbling "Gosh" before running towards the second door of the room, apparently leading to an on-suite. The other female placed a few bags on the desk by the door and came over to me. Emyra handed her a little green bag with a white cross and sat down next to me. "You remember Amy, correct?" She asked, veiling the real question of 'Are you okay with her staying?' I nodded and she seemed to sigh in relief as she grabbed a wet white cloth, first stroking it over my neck and face, then dabbing it around the wound carefully.
"I- I am quite pain resistant. You needn't be so careful." It was true, the pain didn't bother me. It couldn't even be compared to the pain of deathless starvation, or childbirth.
Emyra's lips went to a thin line and her brows furrowed, but she stopped the careful dabbing. She brought out a bottle with some liquid.
"What is that?" I asked carefully.
"Rubbing alcohol. Cleans the wound." Aah. Alcohol had existed even in my time, believe it or not.
"Don't" I said, standing up. Emyra copied my movement, glaring at me in a... caring way.
"I don't have permission to tend to my wounds." I told her. There was no need to upset him.
My friend looked at me with pity. I had always despised the emotion, but as she hugged me I found I didn't quite mind.
"They're not the same person." She said, and deep down I knew she was right. I walked over to the bathroom, washing the blood off my hands, and turned to the door, rummaging through the bags of stuff. Soon I found what I was looking for. The blue box. Emyra stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder, stroking my upper back as I opened it. Inside were two things: a silver locket and an old, brown package. "Pen..." I mumbled as I started going through drawers- quickly finding a pencil. I scribbled numbers on the package together with a name. I handed it to the female behind me. I looked between the green eyes of Emyra and the brownette.
"If... if you're ever in need of shelter or... safety, go there." I pointed at the name. "If he's... alive, you can give him my name and this package." I said. She looked like she wanted to object, but didn't. She understood.
I opened the locket, looking at the drawings inside, picked them out, leaving the only photo of the bunch and handed the locket to her as well.
"I- you shouldn't open it... but I won't stop you."