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through the air and makes my blood run cold, the white blur of energy delves into the oak tree, making me wonder exactly what is going on.

I stand up, turning to face the tree as it suddenly whirs with energy. Bright, fire-like sparks explode from the trunk, blood seeming to run down it. It rapidly grows in size, from four feet in diameter to around five feet, and who knows how much taller. Before, it seemed to be rather lifeless, an old tree that had reached its peak, but somehow, it now looks youthful. Scarier.

This tree is taller than the others by far, stretching to reach the clouds. I am fervently wishing for the werewolves to see it, but they are probably consumed with whatever they are talking about. It sounded important when I tried to eavesdrop, though I didn't quite understand their topic.

It is Ray's fault, I think feverishly, for casting me out of their meeting room. He probably knew I would find some trouble to involve myself in. But I can't truly blame it on him. It is my fault for taking those first steps towards the dangerous road. It is my fault for not sticking to the beautiful garden.

And now, I am going to pay.

The tree totters, swaying in that rough wind. My dress presses against me, forced back by the terrible gales. The force of the wind increases, nearly pushing me to the ground as the tree reaches full height and strength. It ripples with energy, the bright red crackling around it like lightning. The wind seems to circle around this giant monster, almost like a tornado with its speed and focus.

But then, there is a crack that stops my heart.

The tree suddenly snaps, the red energy possessing it still. The breaking of the suddenly colossal tree surprises me; with its newfound strength, it seemed to be invincible. It almost looks to be a deliberate breaking, the now severed trunk cut cleanly and smoothly. How is it doing that? What is going on?

I hardly notice the tree as the rest of it tumbles towards me, my thought muddled with confusion. It must be the ghost. The ghost is controlling the tree!

Wait... I glance upwards, at the blur of speed as it travels to squish me. "Oh no," I whisper, my voice shriveled and weak. I try to scream, but I can't. I am frozen solid with pain, fear, and hate.

I can’t move.

I can’t think.

I really am going to die, aren’t I? No more silly games of hide and seek. Death has found me, sinking his talons into my skin. Glaring at me with his giant red eyes that haunt my memories.

But what, truly, do I have to live for?

I think of a certain man, with emeralds for eyes and azure hair that sparkles in the bright sunlight. He would miss me for sure.

My cheeks burn as a tear runs past my eyelashes, down my chin, onto my ratty clothes. I wonder why I am crying, when I had tried to commit suicide only two days ago. But so much has changed since then. There is so much more...

Right before the tree hits the ground, squelching me in the process, there is a thump. Glancing upwards, I wonder why I am not dead yet. Why the pain is only inside of me, blinding my thinking. There are no scratches on my arms and legs, only dirt and leaves, making me wonder if this is only a dream. There is no way this can happen in real life. I am just going crazy, imagining such nonsense.

But then why does my head hurt so much?

I stagger, scanning the area for the tree with the evil red sparks. Everything is going blurry, the screams blocking everything. My mother’s thin voice, repeating itself over and over and over...

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice erupts through the void, ripping its way towards my understanding. I blink, my eyes focusing. The masculine voice seems to harness my thoughts and drag it to reality, everything becoming clearer.

It is then that I notice that the tree is lying to the side of me, held by a man who has saved my life three times in the past two days. His muscled arms bulge as he lays the colossal tree on the ground, his beautiful eyes widening at the red sparks exploding from it. The eyes narrow, his fist drawing back and slamming into the trunk of the tree. There is a boom, shaking me to my knees, like a tiny earthquake. I look up once more, to see the tree almost in splinters. The red is gone, and so is the ghost that vanished into it. How did he do that in one punch?

The handsome man runs my way, wrapping his firm arms around me concernedly. “Are you okay?” he repeats the question, taking one now gentle finger and stroking some strands of my ruby red hair. I lean against him for a second, dwelling in his warmth and comfort, trying to throw out the endless pain. There is silence, and then the hurt leaves me, only leaving cold memories that stain my heart.

“How did you do that?” I waste no time, grabbing one of his hands, marveling at the lack of cuts and splinters, “you made a little earthquake!”

He laughs, “it’s called an Earthquake Punch. It is something werewolves have to train for years and years to attain, and one of the six Talents. Now answer my question.”

“Well, I’m not hurt, but...” I squeeze his hand tightly, almost delirious with confusion, “what was that ghost thing?”

His eyes widen, bafflement dancing across his features. “You... saw it?”

“Yeah. It was so scary, with its bright red eyes...” I shudder, causing him to pull me into a hug. I am too tired to care, although stiffening slightly at his movement.

“Everything’s okay, Mona,” he murmurs as I bury my face into his chest. I need his warmth, the security he offers. For it seems that I won’t find survival anywhere else. After a while, he slowly breaks apart, leading me with him back the way we both came.

His form straightens as we walk, I turning away from him in embarrassment. He must think I'm pitiful, always needing to be saved. I used to think of myself as being independent and able to support myself, but this one day has convinced me otherwise.

The ground beneath us crunches, the leaves producing a snap as they crack. Whispers of the past wind, once a terrible gale, still brush our hair and shoulders, dancing along our skin. I now feel cold and almost emotionless, the pain having eliminated all other feelings. And now that the pain is gone, there is nothing.

When we finally reach the garden, four miraculous figures come to meet us, each handsome in their own unique way. Wes stares at me, his gaze of concern. “What happened, Xavier?” he questions the man beside me, drinking in his face of weariness.

“A Shifter,” he narrows his eyes, “was on our property.” The stunning men all rear back in surprise, pure disgust lacing through their features.

“Here?” Jake erupts, his voice furious. Ray shakes his head, Yi looking at the perfectly manicured lawn near his feet. I breathe a quick sigh of relief; I hadn't exited the grounds. Now Xavier can't get mad at me.

"Why didn't you just stay in the garden?" he turns to me, his expression of anger, "if I hadn't look out of the window and seen that gigantic tree, you would have died!"

Obviously I thought too soon. Xavier can get mad at me for anything.

My eyes narrow, my determination showing through the terror. "What was that white thing?!" I demand, "Tell me now!"

Ray's eyes widen, his expression suddenly of excitement. "Xavier," he begins, "if that girl's a Seer, then we might be able to get ourselves a Spier! Imagine what we would be able to do..."

"No," he says fiercely, "I won't allow it. Ever." His face is hard and resolute, his hair sparkling in the beating sun. I look up at him, at his lightly tanned skin, straight nose, and absolutely gorgeous eyes, and frown.

"Tell me," I nearly growl, invoking an irritated glance from wolfboy himself.

"Okay, we will," he huffs, "come on." He drags me towards the mansion, the others following behind.

We enter the mansion doors, where I once again am faced with those evil, all knowing eyes. I shut my own in response, not wanting to see their brightness, the terrifying memories they cause. Xavier glances upwards with me, but doesn't shy away like I do.

"Are those what you saw?" he asks. I only nod, trying not to gaze into their fiery depths. His face seems to grow more certain as he walks, though darker than usual. His hand is like a steel bar across my back, not loving and comforting like it usually is... and I hate to admit that I miss it.

We enter the small room once more, with Xavier lifting me up easily and placing my form on the bed. The rest of the pack shuffles inwards, Ray swinging the door shut with a loud clang.

Immediately the interrogation starts. "How can you see a Shifter?" Yi asks in amazement.

"Are you a Spier?" Jake stupidly questions, causing a slap from Ray.

"Wow, Xavier, picking a Seer as your mate. Aren't you sly," Wes comments with a slight smirk.

"Shut up, everybody!" Xavier roars, causing even Wes to fall silent, "let's answer Mona's questions first." He peers into my eyes, disarming me with one glance. "Go ahead, Mona," he whispers, somehow making the words seem intimate and exciting, "we will tell you everything you want to know."

I choke on a breath at his close proximity, pulling away slightly. I tilt my head, wondering what exactly I want to know. What I need to know.

Might as well start with the basics. "What is that white thing?" I inquire, my voice still shaking from fear of the monster.

"It is called a Shifter," Wes speaks up, words flowing like melted butter from his lips, "and they are the sworn enemies of werewolves. They are creatures of chaos, death, and misery, with eyes that mirror true hell. Invisible to the human and werewolf eye, the only way to detect a Shifter in its true form is to smell it. We are the only species that has a powerful enough sense of smell."

"However," Xavier jumps in, "there are some humans able to see these Shifters. We call them Seers. Usually this sight is caused by a near death accident that a Shifter is involved in. That's you, Mona."

I think back to those burning memories, full of bitterness, fear, and hate. I can remember it now... the white cloud with those terrible eyes, floating in front of me right before wreaking havoc upon us all.

"A Seer can be awakened to become a Spier," Ray says, his voice tinged with excitement, "one of the six Talents!"

"What is a Spier?" I ask, gazing at the way Xavier's face turns hard at Ray's words. I grow even more interested, noting his discomfort.

"A Spier is able to conjure a spirit spear, and kill a Shifter in its true form. One can be aligned with every pack, and would complete our own. With you, we would have the six Talents," He gestures to the four werewolves surrounding him, "Yi is a budding Stealth Talent, which means he can turn fully invisible when he finally develops his skill. Jake is a Sabertooth Talent, which means he has long, retractable claws that are somewhat like a Sabertooth Tiger's teeth. Xavier is an Earthquake Punch Talent, which pretty much explains itself, and Wes is a Charm Talent. He can charm his opponent within a couple of seconds, and almost hypnotize them into doing his will. And I... I am a Beast Talent."

"What's that?" I wonder, staring into Ray's almost perfect face, stained with a darkness I can’t quite explain. He is a mirror image of Xavier, but yet they are they so different.

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