A/N: So I didn't continue the smut . . . for now. But there will be more eventually. Just have to get up to it. For now, enjoy the angst train.
******
"And who says I want to live."
"You . . . you can't be . . . serious."
"If I don't get to fight, it'll feel like I'm dying anyways. What's the point of prolonging it?"
"No! There is a point to this."
"Then what is it? Because I don't understand."
"Because I want you to live Lappland. I want us to face each day together, side by side. And when we become mates, I want us to rule the pack together. I-I can't do this without you. And that's why . . . why I have to stop you from fighting. Resisting what the illness wants is the best way to combat it. In time I'm sure we'll be able to find doctors who can help you and then—"
"No. No I won't listen. I need this Texas. Fighting is a part of me. I can't just stop!"
"Well your alpha is telling you to stop, so you have to oblige, as it is tradition."
"Then I guess you can no longer be my alpha."
"You can't really mean that?"
"I do. A coward can never be my alpha, nor can she be my girlfriend."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Texas . . ."
******
Lappland wanted to scream. But she had screamed so many times recently, her voice burning and raw from all the hurt she felt. The shadow of the building she took shelter behind voided the sensation of the rising sun. Her tail fur fluffed up to try abating the sensation as numbness traveled through her veins. Everything had been going so good for the longest time. But then . . .
I just had to get infected.
She still remembered the knife plunging into her skin. Their laughter at the successful attack, at how they finally injured one of their opponents. The pain was blinding with its supernova of hurt. Blood spurted from the open wound in a cascade of bright red. And no amount of careful attention prevented those dark shards from finding a home in her vulnerable veins. She should have known the blossoming darkness marked the beginning of her end. The end of everything she had with Texas.
She hates me now.
Those tears in Texas's eyes were ones she had burned in memory.
As was the looks of disappointment on her friends' faces.
Well, the ones who were there.
Aura probably hates me too though.
Some part of her knew this wasn't true, but it was hard to listen to that part of her when everything in her was hurting. That leg was aching . . . not unusual. The stiffness in her joints was another story though. As was the scrapes on her knees from when she slipped on the ice earlier.
It was with this pain that she curled up on the ground and cried for a good while.
Not that it helped her.
*****
It could have been days later that she got back to trying to live again. Body still aching with a pain that refused to leave, Lappland navigated the woods with a swift sureness. The hunters were going to find any foolish wild wolves who stayed put for too long. So she ran, keeping her footsteps light. Tracks were just as big of a problem. Scent was a matter covered by mud and the occasional swath of pine leaves. The sticky quality made skin itch if rubbed too hard. It was something she learned the hard way and since adapted.
The rushing river was a lonely companion to the occasional bird call. Snow fell in indeterminable waves during the day, only to spurt out heavily at night. The thick fluffy clouds she used to give name to with Texas were no longer friendly. She was against the elements, without anyone to help her now.
What's the point of anything anymore?
It was a question she often considered during the nights where there was no food to be found. Hibernation was just as big of a killer to the free roaming wolves as was the subzero temperatures. And those little animals burrowing into the earth to sleep were one less food source to find. The fleeing birds made it that much harder. The bigger game was likely what saved her in the end, especially when the ponds froze over to trap the fish inside.
Right now she sat in front of a dwindling fire, back pressed against a hollow in a tree. It was likely an old badger set at some point. The faded scent, dented claw marks in the wood were evidence enough. The scrawny squirrel skewered on a stick was lean meat, but better than nothing.
"Texas . . ."
When her voice was used —on the rare occasion she spoke at all— it was often this name springing to mind. Some part of her just refused to forget the dark wolf. Maybe because she was the reason why Lappland fled in the first place? Or it might have to do with her own sense of despair over what would likely never be hers. Even if she was sane, it would never be hers.
Never be mine.
*****
Blood coated her hands, the world so cold breath puffed up in her face as she exhaled. The gloves she wore no longer retained their previous coloring from all the killing she did recently. The soles of her boots grew uncomfortable as the soles wore out. It was on these terrible mornings that the wolf in her regretted the running away, if only because there was no substantial shelter out here. A flurry of snow breezed in. If not for the frigid temperature it would have been pleasant to watch. The same could be said for the icicles hanging off the tree branches as they glistened in the sun. Even it's heat could not abate the chill in her heart.
And when the wind picked up, her ears flattened to her skull.
"Guess I have no choice."
It took a bit to wipe her last meal off of her fingers before stuffing them into her pockets. It did little to help in this weather, but it was better than nothing. Lappland left the woods behind to approach the place she left what felt like a lifetime ago. In doing so old feelings resurfaced.
Guilt, sadness, rage.
She let the last of them fuel her most, because unlike the others it let her grasp the delusion of heat. It was all she managed to keep stored in. Things would have been different.
If only she saw things my way.
*****
Ding. Ding. Ding.
The bell rang as she pushed the door open. The RiverSands was one of the few places she was accustomed to going without Texas. It was not seen as appropriate for the future alpha to come into bars like this one, the fact that she was not drinking age all the more reason. Not that she would bother to come now.
The usual suspects were bolstered on the barstools. Bottles of brown beer were put at the forefront, the more alcoholic substances stored inside locked cabinets for the customers willing to pay extra. Old, gray eared men shuffled into booths. The youngest of her company besides herself was either behind the bar or out on the dance floor. Two young couples slowly swayed out on the worn wooden planks. The girls traded out dresses for jeans and fluffy jackets for this season. The men held similar tastes. Alcohol mixed with the scent of snow slush outside.
"Ah . . . It's been awhile since I've seen you here." The bartender —a Lupo in he thirties— regarded her thoughtfully. Dressing in a plain white long-sleeve shirt and denim shorts, it was arguable he was underdressed. The little button undone at the top revealed the peaking silver chain he normally wore during her visits.
Lappland pulled herself up onto the last stool available. The way it creaked was another sense of normalcy for her to relax with. "I know. Been out of town." It was the easiest way to admit it without saying exactly what happened.
But nothing escaped him.
There were enough gossips in this pack, plenty coming to RiverSands to take a load off.
"Oh. Rumor has it you were cast out. That you're no longer welcome here." He slid a glass her way, full of an amber liquid.
She took a sip, letting out a pleased hum at the pleasantly bitter taste. "If that were true you would not allow me to stay Rhysand."
Both of them knew he was no match for her, but this was hardly the point.
"I know. But I have to warn you to keep a low profile all the same."
He flashed her a smile, the tint of yellow to his incisors similar to the golden liquid tucked in the cellar out back. A strict parental figure would likely think her knowledge of said bar was worrisome; a fun one would hardly bat an eye. In the smallest moments when she remembered before, her parents and their encouraging words, Lappland figured they landed right in the middle. Texas's parents were the former. When they were around that is.
Gran was arguably worse, but any recollection of the senior Texas had her brain screeching to a halt. The way the elder wolf snarled at her so angrily still stung like an open lash. What does she really know? Did she ever think about Texas as more than just an heir? Those nasty thoughts were brought to her as the alcohol began setting in.
She shook her head. "I suppose that's fair."
Rhysand chuckled. "Fair? No, fair would be paying your tab for once."
The smooth, polished surface of the tabletop was so clean she saw a faint reflection of herself. Pale skin and even paler eyes . . . it was a miracle the other customers did not think of her as a ghost. The bloodshot eyes made it rightfully appear as though it was a long time since she last got a decent night's sleep. Her silver hair also was known to catch the attention of onlookers, but thankfully it was obscured with the hood shoved over her head.
The cramping in her wolf ears was another problem, a dull ache at the top of her skull. But finding the little ear holes to fit them through would attract unwanted attention. And so she did not bother, all her apparent focus remaining on the bartender in front of her. Sandy blond hair and sea-blue eyes made for a unique combination. He would have been attractive if she was into men, but as that wasn't the case Lappland was more than happy to tease him when the opportunity presented itself.
But things are different now.
"Hmm, or maybe it would be you getting the balls to propose to Melody. You have been dating for over four years now." She pointed out. "She might as well find someone else at the rate your going."
Rhysand's pointed ears twitched. "I know. And I know you're being nasty because you've been through an ordeal recently. And an unresolved one at that." The glass he was cleaning sparkled, showing off the yellowed lights on the overhang. The band switched up from the slow song they were on and moved to a mellow jazz tune. Couples split apart to dance solo.
Lappland stared at those parting couples, only one person coming to mind. She had dark hair, a reddened tail and bicolored eyes. The one person she had never wanted to be separate from.
"What do you know about anything?"
Rhysand sighed, a hint of sadness going totally ignored. "A lot more than you. There was a time when you noticed every little detail, were the best confidant anyone could ask for. Granted you were stubborn, and loud, and definitely pro-violence, but there was an unmistakable goodness beneath it all that made things right in the end. Not to mention how much you cared for those closest to you and were loyal no matter what."
"No matter what . . ."
She swallowed the remainder of her drink in one gulp, placing it somewhat harshly in front of her. Rhysand poured more of the dark liquid in at her demanding glare. "Maybe you were wrong about me."
Maybe I never was that person at all.
Thinking of before infection results in the strange sense of foreboding. The shards in her leg throbbed, making the world spin. So not thinking came to be the best option. But then she did think anyways. There was no pain when she was fighting. Because then this pain gave her inexplicable strength and a strong desire for bloodshed. If any of that truth was displayed in her then Rhysand did not say a word about it.
But what he did say she would remember.
"People change, but at their core they're still the same. Each of us are born with an inherent goodness. It is through taught behaviors that we gain corruption, wickedness and evil. And once this darkness takes hold it can be hard to free yourself from."
"So what? Is there a point to this conversation or can I keep drinking my beer?"
And that was when he took her hand. Callus fingers squeezed her slightly smaller ones each in turn. "There's always a point. And I don't want you to ever give up. Because there will always be something worth fighting for."
Little did Rhysand know his advice was soon to be taken in the wrong direction as the door clicked open once more.
*******
A/N: This one took a bit longer for me to finish! Mainly because I wanted to make sure I new exactly what was supposed to be happening in this part. I wonde who walked in at the end there? Comment about your thoughts in the comments and don't forget to vote.