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I gritted my teeth as rage flooded my veins. The blood under my skin boiled, and my heart pounded in my ears. The flood of anger was so strong that I flickered between Artemis and Lilura for a moment. Lightening cracked outside, and it took me a minute to realize that it was my doing.

I glanced outside and saw the bright flashes of light. That's my lightening.

My eyes darted to the wolves on the floor. Monica drew my attention—her hands are shaking.

My heart dropped. Monica is afraid of me.

An image flashed in front of my eyes. Monica and I stood next to a blanket—her in my arms, and her face donning a smile.

"I don't know what your fellow wolves said, but I'm not going to smite you. I won't hurt you for something as petty as a small mistake. I won't hurt you at all, for that matter."

Not even three days later, and I've already broken that promise.

I stopped the lightning outside and forced myself to calm down. I closed my eyes and took many deep breaths. I told myself that they had nothing to do with the attack. It wasn't their fault—a pack of rogues set the traitor free.

Once I no longer felt the need to murder someone, and the flares of light through the window ceased, I reopened my eyes.

Then the guilt came. It swept through me, bringing tears to my eyes. Oh, God, what was I about to do?

I stepped toward them, my hand flying over my mouth. "Oh, guys," I whispered, "what's wrong with me? I'm so, so sorry! Oh, please forgive me. I-I..."

The wolves kneeling before me came out of their bow, bit by bit. Their shoulders relaxed, and they met my gaze. I looked at Monica—her irises changed. Instead of their sapphire color, they were indigo.

Monica's wolf is present.

I went to ask for the wolf's name when Damaris ran into the room. "What is going on in here?" she demanded. Damaris spotted the three on the floor, and I saw the anger build on her face. She seethed and pointed an accusing finger at me, "You! What the hell did you do? Who do you think you are?"

Derek shouted, "No, Mare! Don't! She's not—"

Too late—Damaris took a swing at me. I pushed her fist away, ducking under it. I darted around her tall figure, swiftly twisting her arm behind her back. One wrong move and her arm will break.

Damaris thrashed a tad before succumbing to the pain, whimpering.

"My darling, that was an unwise thing to do," I spoke, releasing her.

She backed away, muttering, "What? Who are you?"

"Artemis, goddess of the moon and werewolves. A pleasure to meet you."

I glanced back at Erik and Monica. They had gathered enough courage to stand against the wall, probably to avoid the budding conflict. I approached the red-head and seized her hand. I led her out of the room, steering us to her bedroom.

Monica didn't make a sound the whole way there.

"Do you hate me now?" I tentatively asked, perching on her bed.

Monica joined me. "Why would you even ask that?"

I rubbed a strand of her hair, twirling them around my fingers. "Because I made a vow never to hurt you, and I immediately broke it."

"I'll admit it... it was terrifying seeing you get angry like that. But my wolf told me that you wouldn't hurt me if you truly loved me... and you didn't."

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