{ It isn't what we say or think that defines us, but what we do ~ Jane Austen // Sense and Sensibility }

Chiara almost darted out of the patio doors, her heart pounded in her ears, matching the click clacking of her heels resounding from the ground. The only thing keeping her from running away and shifting out of her awful dress and heels was the wolves watching and waiting for a moment of weakness from her. Chiara kept her chin high, and her gaze focused ahead as she felt their gazes pierce through her, judging her again for her sister's crimes.

Their hushed whispers still reached her ears, but the Gamma played ignorant. She now had to prove herself again after the mark Lydia left on the Gattoni name. It didn't matter if she killed her; Chiara was not going to brag about something, so she had their respect.

Her fists balled by her sides. If she was a male werewolf, there would be no issues. She was sure of it.

Chiara finally brought her attention back to her surroundings and away from her swirling thoughts. Not that she would ever be off guard, her senses were still alert to any attacks.

But now, Chiara found herself entering the maze and letting herself get lost among the bushes of twists and turns. The cool air and the constant movement of her feet were soothing. She even removed her dreadful heels behind her as she felt the damp grass beneath her feet.

Although she said to Aila, she would stay. That may very well change now; her wolf was rearing to go. They needed to relieve themselves of the stress and bubbling anger within their veins. Chiara inhaled deeply, letting her shoulders rise and fall as she exhaled and looked up at the dreary weather.

Lydia, where did it all go wrong?

"You can't keep blaming yourself for her actions," Gina growled. Chiara and her wolf had these conversations quite regularly.

Chiara either blamed herself and how selfish she was as a kid, not thinking about her sister and how she might feel for not being 'chosen' to take on the Gamma role. Although Chiara knew if Lydia was the eldest, then she would be the one to have become Gamma. Or, she wondered if there was some twisted part of Lydia that had always been there, this then sent Chiara into a fit of rage. It seemed since the day Lydia challenged her, she was always at war with herself.

Even now, her sister was dead, and she still haunted her, as though she was rubbing it in. Her downcast eyes flickered up as determination filled her features once more. Lydia was gone, and the whispers that encircled Chiara would soon fade away. She could easily beat the shit out of them, and they would submit to her.. Her lips curled up into a smirk as she continued to stroll through the maze.

But she was above using violence as a means to shut the yapping. Chiara glanced up at the cloudy sky and stilled for a moment as her hands clung to her elbows tightly against her chest. No, she did not need to use violence to protect her title unless someone wished to challenge her.

"All we need to do is keep protecting the pack. Show them you are nothing like Lydia.. Not that they should NEED remindinnnnng.." Gina growled at the end, letting her temper take over briefly.

Before Chiara could reply, the sound of footsteps trying and failing to be quiet rung through Chiara's ears. She narrowed her eyes slightly, only moving her hand underneath the sleeve of her dress. Her fingers curled around the cold handle of one of her throwing knives.

In one smooth motion, she spun on her heel and whipped the knife out and halted when she saw the figure raise their hands in mock surrender, all the while their lips broadened into one of his charming smiles. Chiara still held the knife by the side of her face, her stance still positioned ready. "You should know better than to creep up on a Gamma," She grumbled.

Ajax chuckled and lowered his hands to the pockets in his trousers. Chiara followed them and finally took note of his attire. He looked good, really good. Ajax was wearing a suit and tie, fitted to his lean and rippled muscles. The Gamma was not blind; she knew Ajax was a good looking guy, heck, he could be a model with his looks, but he could be too much, and it irritated her.

Chiara could sense that underneath his jokes and flirty attitude, there was a deep wound and deep, deeeeeeep inside of him; he was serious and intelligent, but he masked it all. And she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Was he being himself?

"I know not to sneak up on YOU. I don't think there is another Gamma quite like you," He tilted his head to the side before sauntering towards her. Chiara's thoughts were put on hold as she watched his dancing eyes. "You know you can lower the dagger, right?"

He stood straight in front of her now, unfazed by the knife in her hands. But for some reason, his presence made her wary of what he might do; her treacherous heart had begun to flutter as he raised his hand and gestured for her to give him the knife. Chiara found herself scowling as he simply slipped his fingers around the sharp edge while his gaze was still locked with hers.

She released the knife, a little stunned that she let him get so close, and after searching his eyes, she could also see the shock on his face, but he quickly covered it up with a smirk. It was odd that both of them thought of her like a feral animal sometimes.

"Where did you even get this from?" His gaze roamed her body lazily, and appreciation flickered across his eyes as he 'looked' for a spot where her knives came from.