VEUX

Fifteen

January 30

It was pure luck that Eye and Saoirse hadn't been doing anything inappropriate when the door to his bedroom swung open. She'd been swivelling around in his desk chair when the sudden burst startled her, almost causing her to fall to the ground. Eye emerged calmly from his connected bathroom, toothbrush foaming on one side of his mouth; completely accustomed to the lack of privacy male wolves received.

Saoirse's gaze took in the older male before her, admiring his jet black hair and the caramel tone to his skin. He looked about thirty, which meant he was roughly entering his sixties in the werewolf world. She had learned from a few of the textbooks in the pack library that werewolves aged slower while they were young. They healed faster, reacted quicker, yet still died in the same life span of a human without showing it.

It had something to do with the strength of cells in the body, and the venom, and the blah blah blah. Saoirse skipped chapter five without even thinking about it. I hate biology. Hate werewolf biology even more.

"Jagar," Said Eye.

The man's gaze turned from Saoirse's, his startled expression lessening. Eye really wasn't supposed to allow her in his room, at least not for this long with the door closed...

"Saoirse," Jagar bowed his head slightly towards Saoirse. "Eye. Alpha's asked for you."

Eye nodded his head, turning back into the bathroom.

Jagar lingered. "Alpha's brothers request you to join them in the training fields."

Saoirse couldn't help herself from the expression crossing her face. She'd already gone to training with Oracle this morning, and if it were Osric and Osias he spoke about; they'd meet her in the library. "Why? What for?"

Jagar's mouth barely moved before Eye reemerged. "Saoirse," He had an edge to his tone. His head slightly tilted, and already Saoirse hated the words before they left his mouth. "Just go."

Her bare feet touched his carpet harshly, kicking up static in her quick strides. "Fine." The attitude leaked from her as she pressed herself between Jagar and the doorframe.

"And change!" Eye called after her, his voice distant in her ears.

He didn't mean shifting. Anybody, literally anybody, could command Saoirse to shift and the venom inside of her would listen. Changing consisted of wearing an oversized shirt that didn't rip between forms. The neckline was rung out and the edges stained from the earth, but it worked. Her second form was considered to only be as old as long as she'd been bitten; two and a half months. The stretched fabric covered both forms blissfully; covering her nudity during the change back. Nudity had been the one part of werewolf culture she was yet to accept.

Dressed in the stained grey shirt that flitted to her knees, Saoirse crossed her arms as she walked the path into the training grounds. The air wasn't as cold now as it were two months ago. Dead and yellow grass could be seen in the corners of the melted snow, a blue tint returning to the sky as the blizzards passed. Eye had said this was a place of early spring.

"What?" Saoirse bristled upon entering the arena.

Osric and Osias stood as promised, yet her eyes lingered over a third being; another replica.

Jesus.

"Saoirse," Osias spoke. "This is our brother, Oak."

As he walked forward from the line of look alikes, Saoirse held her ground and kept her gaze over his. Similar to Oracle's, a blackness was within his eyes, dark and almost penetrating. The same height filtered through each of their brothers, only their styles visible for her to tell them apart, yet the comfort and trust Saoirse shared between Osric and Osias wasn't present in the stare down with Oak.