Miss Victoria's office was based inside her own home in the heart of the residential area of the compound, and was just as sweet and cloying as the wix herself. With cosy armchairs covered in thick flowery print, faded yellow walls decorated with multiple pastel pictures of landscapes and animals, and the faint scent of fruity herbal tea.

On first glance, the office looked downright cosy and relaxing, the pastels of the walls and décor blending calmingly with the golden-brown wooden floors, but upon closer inspection, the two thick armchairs sitting on the other side of the sleek, wooden desk from Miss Victoria's own armchair were way too bulky for the space. The thick cushions and multiple throw pillows made for an uncomfortable perch especially when one – like Riley and Rowan – was tense.

"Tea?" Miss Victoria offered from her armchair. She, of course, was at home on her own perch, the thick frame of the chair and many cushions seeming more like a small throne than something found in a grandmother's living room.

Neither Rowan nor Riley responded. Miss Victoria eyed them each in turn. Uncaring of their lack of response, she stood gracefully from her seat, moving to the small table pressed against the wall beside her desk holding the kettle and tea things. Her kaftan today was a light pink that matched the interior of her office, with the hems inlaid with gold threads. Her thickly coiled afro was pulled up tight into a bun, golden earrings the shape of leaves dangling from her ears.

She leaned against the tea table as the kettle boiled. "I have to ask, Miss Riley, what do you know about supernatural history in England? Master Rowan?"

When neither of them was inclined to answer, Miss Victoria didn't seem bothered, going on to answer the question herself.

"For generations, four groups of supernatural have existed." She held up four fingers, her thumb pressed to her palm. She dropped her pointer finger. "The vigilantes" - She said this with a disdainful curl of her lip. Rowan didn't look at Riley, but he knew they were both thinking of Grimes – "also known as the people who play by their own rules – appointing themselves judge, jury, and executioner – regardless of how the rest of the supernatural world feels about it." She dropped her middle finger. "The, hm, let's call them the Dangerous – the supernaturals who are constantly on the hunt for immeasurable power, going so far as to steal and strip said power from other supernaturals." Her eyes settled on Riley. "For example, taking the alpha's power from an alpha werewolf, rendering her a beta. Or" - her eyes turned to Rowan – "taking the beta power from a beta werewolf, rending him an omega; an undesignated wolf without a pack, vulnerable and prone to madness."

That's not possible, Rowan thought, secretly horrified. One couldn't just steal the designation from a werewolf, right? Could it be possible? Riley remained expressionless, and the bond thrummed with nothing but calm; they couldn't speak telepathically, but they'd been connected for long enough that Rowan could read what Riley was trying to communicate through the pulses in the bond.

Don't panic, little bro. She's just trying to scare us.

The kettle whistled, and Miss Victoria turned to make her tea, uncaring of the tension slowly rising in the room.

When she returned to her seat, she was stirring the light red liquid in her teacup with a small golden teaspoon, occasionally letting the gold clink onto the sides of the fine china. She set the teaspoon onto the saucer, and took a small sip from her drink.

"Then there are folks like you, unwillingly brought into this new world around them, ignorant of the possible dangers that await and cocky with their newfound abilities. Once, you were only human. Now that you're, well, superhuman, you suddenly think yourself a god." Miss Victoria leaned forward. "What you forget, Miss Riley, is that gods are not infallible."

Riley had perfected control of her expression, though fury thrummed through the bond. Rowan tried to send a wave of calm her way, even though he was just as pissed as she was. He might be only twenty-one, but it was fucking annoying how the wix treated them like children.

Miss Victoria seemed disappointed Riley hadn't reacted to her taunt. She settled back into her seat, taking another slow sip from her cup. "The last group, of course, are the covens." She smiled delicately. Her lips were painted to match with her dress, and the cold, pale shade did absolutely no favours for her warm brown skin. "The covens, or – as our organisation is more popularly known – The White Lotus, were formed, generations ago, to help helpless supernatural folk like you." She dropped her teacup back onto the saucer with a small clink, then leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. "You see, when I call the dangerous folks the "Dangerous", I do mean that literally. I'm not talking about shadows, or a single entity, I'm talking about a devoted group of individuals – a powerful cult – made up of both supernatural and not, who've dedicated their lives to finding and stealing for themselves the ultimate power."

Her eyes hardened. "These compounds were built to keep supernaturals like yourself safe from their clutches. And with whispers of the cult rising again –" She abruptly stopped talking when she realised she was leaning forward in her seat, shoulders tense.

Rowan wanted to glance at Riley, wondering how she was taking all this information, but he didn't want to make it look like they were doubting their choice to leave.

Miss Victoria took a deep breath, reorienting herself. "You know nothing of this world," she said, back straight, shoulders lax, back to her serene self. "In fact, you didn't even know we could exist in a community like this one before we found you." She picked up her teaspoon and began to stir her tea, keeping her eyes down on the swirling liquid. "We picked you up off the streets, and if I have it correctly, Master Jacob actually saved your lives. If it weren't for our hospitality, you'd be rotting in a jail cell somewhere, lost and forgotten. Or worse, in some government lab, being experimented on for sport."

Her voice didn't raise, remaining calm and sweet, but the tone set the fine hairs on Rowan's arms standing. Miss Victoria might not be an animal, but Rowan's wolf could sense a predator when it saw one.

"So," the wix continued, tapping her teaspoon against the edge of her cup, finally looking up with burning dark eyes. "It's pretty insulting that you think you can just come here and do what you want. After I specifically told you I'm only doing this for your own protection."

"You can't keep us here." Riley finally spoke, her jaw clenched, the tilt of her chin stubborn.

For a second, Miss Victoria looked like she was about to explode. She calmed herself quickly, dropping the teaspoon back onto the saucer. But when she looked at them, her eyes burned with barely supressed rage.

"Did you not hear a word of what I just said, child?"

"You've done a lot of talking, so I guess it's my turn." Riley stood, and Rowan stood with her in solidarity, bracing himself. Riley puffed her chest, her eyes bleeding red, a bit of alpha leaking into her voice. Miss Victoria raised an eyebrow at the display, like Riley was a toddler about to throw a fake tantrum. Rowan wanted to claw her eyes out. "You keep us prisoner, manipulate our emotions with the promise of food and clothes and shelter, keep us in constant surveillance twenty-four seven, and have not just an electric fence, but a magic – what did she call it? Mountain ash? - fence just in case someone managed to bypass the first. Seems to me, Miss Victoria –" the name dripped like poisoned honey from Riley's lips "– that the only real danger here is you and your shitty coven."

The two women stared each other down unflinchingly. Then Miss Victoria's eyes slowly turned to land on Rowan. Despite himself, his heart skipped a beat.

"And you?" she asked breezily. "Do you feel the same as your sister?"

Rowan didn't hesitate. "I do."

"I see." Miss Victoria stood slowly. The siblings stiffened, but otherwise didn't retreat. "I have absolutely no doubts you're going to try and escape again, so it seems I have no choice."

Riley shoved Rowan behind her before he could blink, a growl building up in her chest as she shifted into her half-shift, her clothes ripping as her body increased in height and muscle mass, claws sharp as knives. Rowan wanted to turn and run for his life, but he knew Riley would never leave her back exposed to danger.

It seemed Miss Victoria was counting on that, because her mouth curled into a triumphant grin. Riley snarled and tried to leap over the table, but that same invisible barrier that had stopped them the night before had her ricocheting seemingly off of thin air and crashing backward onto Rowan.

Miss Victoria's eyes glowed a sickly grey-pink, her hands outstretched, fingers curling.

Sheer panic surged through the bond. They wouldn't be able to stop her. The human side of him would have run by now, but the wolf side of him absolutely refused to take his eyes off the threat, which left him frozen in indecision, waiting for his downfall.

Miss Victoria's pale pink lips parted in preparation to mouth a spell –

A sudden explosion had them stumbling on their feet, sending the pictures on the walls clattering to the ground, books falling off the shelves.

"What on earth –?"

The office door was shoved open, and a harried looking wix said with wide eyes, "We're under attack!"

Miss Victoria didn't wait, didn't spare another look at Rowan or Riley, rushing out of the room with a flutter of her kaftan.

The siblings glanced at each other. He didn't know whose heart was pounding harder, his or Riley's, the sound loud in his ears.

She didn't need to say anything. Now was their chance to escape.

They ran out of the office, Rowan following his sister's lead.

Outside was chaos. There were people running, screaming, and crying, shifted wolves the size of bears running in every direction. Thick black smoke drifted into the air, coming not too far from where they were standing, closer to the edge of the residential area where the houses met the bordering forest. Most of the wixen who worked for the coven, identified by their dazzling blue-purple headbands and headscarves, were running in the direction of the fire, their eyes glowing, their fingers sparking. The scent of magic – sharp and electric, like a storm – crackled in the air, so thick it made Rowan want to sneeze.

Rowan's breath hitched when he noticed the smoke was coming from the direction of the house he'd been allocated with Riley. His bonds with the Serratos were way too thin to properly check if they were unharmed, but the presence of the flickering strands was enough. As long as they didn't abruptly disappear, that meant they were fine.

"Riley?" Rowan asked unsurely when he realised his sister was leading them in the direction of the smoke.

"Whoever broke in, that's likely where they came in. We'll have to use their means of getting in to get out; we don't have time to start searching for another way."

It made sense, but it didn't calm Rowan's wildly pounding heartbeat. Riley's own pulse raced just as hard, but her confidence boosted Rowan's until they were running, unintentionally following the wixen of the coven until they were in the heart of attack.

Despite Riley taking him through the alleyways and back roads, avoiding what seemed to be a raging battle between opposing wixen, Rowan could see that several houses were on fire. Spells were flying through the air. Fully shifted werewolves were jumping on wixen and tearing out their throats, sending blood spraying. In all the commotion, he couldn't tell who was friend or foe.

He struggled to breathe, the air thick with the scent of smoke, blood, and magic.

"Stay close, Rowan!"

He tore his gaze away, following Riley as she managed to navigate them past the chaos.

He could just make out the edge of the trees, he and Riley automatically speeding up at the thought of the forest's shelter, when an explosion sent both of them flying backward and off their feet.

Rowan's ears rang, every inch of him aching like he'd been hit with a battering ram.

"R-Riley ..." His voice was a painful croak.

He slowly twisted around to glance in his sister's direction, the bond pulled taut between them directing his limbs more than instinct. Rowan had ended up almost thirty feet in the other direction from Riley, and there was a man slowly walking toward her. A quick scan of the man's profile through blurry eyes didn't reveal any blue-purple headband or scarf.

His eyes widened in alarm just as Riley staggered to her feet, twisting to glance at Rowan. There was blood seeping down from her scalp. Her eyes turned red. "Rowan, run!"

"I'm not leaving you!" he yelled, forcing himself to his feet.

The man was lifting his hand, probably preparing to cast.

"ROWAN!" Riley screamed, alpha bleeding into her voice. "RUN!"

The last thing he remembered was seeing his sister leaping up in the direction of the man, her body morphing mid-air into her wolf form, and then darkness.

Rowan didn't stop running for hours, until the sun came up and his limbs were screaming. Far as he could tell, he wasn't being followed. Days spent being on the road with his sister made him adept at fending for himself, even in the city, expertly using his abilities to get food and water and a change of clothes.

The brief stop for sustenance made him panic – what if he had a tracker on him? What if Carson had people watching everywhere?

After two days of running, his body finally shut down, knocking him to sleep for nearly ten hours. He awoke to the sound of screaming, and leapt up from the bed in the small motel he'd broken into, half-shifted, growling threateningly.

The woman who'd woken him up – a housekeeper by the looks of things – promptly dropped her cleaning supplies and ran for her life.

Oh fuck. Oh shit. He'd overslept. Where was Riley? They needed to move.

He instinctively turned to look for her, and then paused, shaking his head. Riley wasn't here. Riley was ...

The pack bond between them was stretched extremely thin, so thin Rowan was sure it would soon break. Where was she? Why was she so far away? What happened? How did he get here? He clutched his chest, trying and failing to calm down.

Panic made his breaths fast, but despite the distance, despite the bond being on the verge of breaking, he felt a thrum.

Riley.

Suddenly the memories slammed back into him – the safe house – he'd left Riley behind, he was running to Nova Falls, to find Grimes. He tried to remember more than that, tried to remember where the safe house was, where he'd been running from, and drew a blank.

He buried his face in his hands and tried not to hyperventilate.

No, Rowan wasn't being tailed, because it seemed Peter Carson had had a failsafe.

But what if this time, Rowan was made to forget everything?

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~Vee.