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With the memory of Ma fresh on my mind, I could not will myself to fall asleep. It was not for a lack of trying. For hours, I tossed and turned, my mind uneased with the ever present thought of Ma. She haunted my mind, unrelenting. I'd close my eye as tight as I could, trying with desperation to picture anyone — anyone but Ma — but it was like my mind only knew her. My mind only knew Ma.

Ma was out here. Dead or alive, Ma was still out here somewhere in the Outside.

For many years, Ma had been out of reach. She was dead, but, moreover, she was dead on the Outside. No amount of yearning or determination could conjure up the facts of Ma's last minutes in the Borderlands. I would accept the reality handed before me: she was dead. And, I would not question this — I could not question this, because there were no alternatives.

She was on the Outside.

My skin lightly flared in electrifying tingles, like ants were walking over every inch of my body at the mere thought of Ma being nearby. Of course, Ma was not making the search process easy; if she had, she would have been written about in the newspapers I scanned through not long ago. The timeframe to find her was wearing thinner, inching closer and closer, much to my distaste. For this, I allowed myself to wallow in my self-imposed misery.

I didn't feel like the right woman for the job. I had felt this way since the proposition was set before me, yet I could not wash the feeling of inadequacy off. For that, I allowed myself to sink further into my misery. Not only was I not the right person for the job, but I also couldn't kid myself into thinking I was the contrary.

Besides the hurdles encountered by being born and raised in the Borderlands, I was no fierce lion. I was more a meek, domestic house cat. Life took me by force, and I was left to pick up the pieces. I was good at it, though — picking up the pieces — but I was never good at deciding where those pieces should go.

A hot tear ran down my cheek, and I fervently swiped it away, tears crowding the corner of my eyes. Frustrated, I huffed in exasperation before ripping my bedsheets off my body. I did not know where I was headed, my body instinctively guiding me out of the Alpha Wing.

Max was nowhere to be seen, but I did not give him a second thought. My heavy, thunderous footsteps echoed throughout the halls as I navigated through the winding hallways.

Within a couple steps, I decided I would walk my surmounting steam off before heading back to bed. After what felt like half an hour, my feet had grown tired, my shoulders drooping, my mind only slightly less active. I was about to shuffle back to the Alpha Wing and admit defeat in fully calming myself down when I saw a dim light protruding out of one of the rooms.

My curiosity was piqued. I knew that while I was out of the Alpha Wing, I was still within a bigger section: the Commanding Quarters. The Commanding Quarters were used for Theo and his trusted advisors — like Flynn and Heath — which meant not many people had access to these hallowed halls.

Cautiously, I sucked in my breath and tip-toed over to the door, where the light was radiating from. The door was slightly ajar. Craning my neck, I peeked into the room.

The room was smaller than I expected — a lowly fireplace dully lit the room. A vintage couch, much like the ones in the Borderlands, was centered with the fireplace. The couch was occupied by a familiar figure. It was occupied by Theo. I could tell by the shadow cast by his sharp jawline, it was him without a doubt.

He was hunched over slightly as he placed a couple of files down by his side. He always seemed to be surrounded by paperwork, no matter where he was. He then rolled his shoulders, like he was uncomfortable, eventually trying to soothe the tension with his hands. He continued on like that for a couple moments before he began to remove his shirt.

I almost stepped away, feeling like I was intruding on something I should not see, but I could not tear my eyes away from him. I struggled to contain a gasp once his shirt was fully removed. His entire back was marked with jarring cuts, not a single inch of smooth skin in sight. He arched his back, trying yet again to grow comfortable. He rubbed at the countless scars before sighing and placing his shirt back on. My breaths shallowed, as I watched him pick up a glass, taking a sip.

His body leaned into the back of the couch, his head tilting up as he said: "You can come out. I promise I won't bite," he paused before finishing his thought. "For tonight, at least."

He did not turn to face me, but his hand gave a welcoming wave. Hesitantly, I took a few muffled steps inside the room, the warmth of the fire heating up my cheeks. I stayed behind the pale couch, wringing my hands together as my toes curled into the fibers of the rug.

Not knowing what to say, my voice came out low as if I had been caught red-handed, "what are you doing up so late?"

While I did not know the current hour, I could estimate it was pretty late. The sun had long since set, and I had spent hours flipping from side to side in bed. But, why was Theo up so late? Why was he up so late in the packhouse when he did not live here?

"I could ask you the same thing," he turned his head towards me, eyebrows raised. Flashing his sharp teeth, he patted the cushion next to him. "I said I wouldn't bite."

Taking a few short steps, I sat on the edge of the couch, a few feet away from Theo. I was cautious to not sit on the papers he had placed by his side, only sitting halfway on the couch to do so. The tired state my body was fading into earlier was now replaced with a jittery one — my body was alight in Theo's presence.

"I couldn't sleep," I offered up as a curt explanation, my fingers fiddling with my hair.

"Anything on your mind?" Theo looked skeptical, and it crossed my mind that I could lie to him. Maybe, I should even lie to him.

Instead, though, I gushed out, "just — just thinking about my Ma brings up a lot of feelings. I mean, just being on the Outside brings up a lot of feelings on its own, but I just feel so overwhelmed, like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. And, it really should come as no surprise, but I'm a very weak person. I don't know why anyone would want to put any weight on my shoulders. Anyway," I sighed, tapping my fingers along the roughed-up texture of the couch while Theo placed a watchful eye over me. "Your turn."

Theo, seemingly amused, gestured towards the vast papers by his side."Paperwork."

I laughed lightly, biting my lip."I suppose the deal we made did not signify you would open up, as well."

Theo's harmonious laugh joined my own as he said, "it's confidential, but you will find out soon enough."

"There are no mate privileges that could get me that information sooner?" I asked, looking into his emerald eyes.

Theo's smile widened. "There are, but I do not think you'd like what that would entail."

I nodded my head knowing he was probably right. My legs bobbed up and down as our lapse in conversation had the image of Theo's back pop in my head. With each second that passed by, my lips quivered with increased intensity to ask him about his back. It was quite a personal question to ask, but I could not control myself.

"Can I ask you something?" I meekly tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Anything."

Taking a breath in, I started with, "your back."

"You saw?" He seemed surprised but not taken aback. He cleared his throat, his gaze set on the dwindling fire.

"What happened?" I blubbered before Theo could respond. Quickly, I covered up my rash words with an apology. "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

There was a pause, Theo's jaw tightening.

"My Alpha," his gaze was still locked ahead.

"Your—" I started to form a question, but Theo cut me off.

"—My father. Alpha first, father second," his voice was void of emotion as if he was stating a fact. Goosebumps lined my arms at the many implications his words brought.

Hesitantly, I inquired, "he did... he did that to you?"

Theo broke out into a small grin. "He would not word it like that. He would say he did that for me, not to me."

"Why would he do that?" My questions continued as I tried to settle further into the couch without disrupting Theo's papers.

"I was weak," he turned his head towards me, his face solemn.

"You?" I was puzzled, tilting my head. In the short time I knew Theo, weak would not be a word used to describe him. "How old were you?"

"Nine. I was nine years old," Theo sighed, again turning his head towards the dwindling embers. "It was my first hunt with my father after my first shift. Alpha's shift early — most other wolves don't shift till twelve or thirteen. It's a big tradition dating back centuries to take the future Alpha — Alpha Jr — on a hunt after his or her first shift. However, I didn't know my father set up the whole thing. While the hunt is rooted in tradition, I had never seen one myself; I didn't know what to expect."

"In the thick of the woods, surrounded by many members of our pack, my father brought out my childhood pet rabbit. He wanted me to hunt and kill my prey — my pet. When I refused, he showed me what it meant to disobey your Alpha. He slashed my back in front of the entire pack."

My body went rigid, horrified at what Theo had gone through. At the same time, I was also in awe of him; he had gone through something so horrendous, yet, from what I could tell, he did not translate this trauma to make him a cruel person. I could not imagine Theo slashing the back of a child — let alone his own — in front of his pack.

Theo continued, "my father explained he was shaping his future Alpha that day. And, he was right. He was showing me the kind of person I did not want to be. I did not want to be like him."

Slowly, Theo turned towards me, his eyes darkening."You asked earlier why I had not marked you already. I told you I had my reasons. Well, it's because of him. Because of my father. I promised myself, when I was nine years old, that I would never become anything like him. You see, he forcefully mated and marked my mom. Her mark was always red and inflamed, a sign she had been taken by force. It wasn't until I was older that my mom started to accept my father as her true mate, but the damage had already been done. My parents lost over a decade of what could have been happy years together because my father was selfish and marked my mom before she was ready. I don't want that to be our story."

Clearing his throat, Theo's eyes blazed. "I am not a beast. One day, I hope you'll come to see that, Sage."

Theo started to shuffle his papers up into a consolidated pile. "You should head to bed. Your body is still recovering."

My mind was reeling from the information poured onto me. Digesting everything Theo said, I managed to get out: "I — thank you."

"Thank you?" Theo questioned, his words coming out slow.

"Thank you for opening up," I rested my hand on top of his, giving it a tight squeeze instinctively. "I know it must not have been easy."

"I don't want to hide who I am with you." Theo took my hand into his and gave it a comforting squeeze back.

"I should head to bed," I stood up abruptly, soothing down my pajama bottoms.

"Goodnight Sage," Theo smiled, half his face covered in shadows.

"Goodnight Theo," I smiled back.

Slowly, I made my way to the door while Theo collected his paperwork. Stopping in the doorway, I said, "you're not, by the way."

"What?"

"You're not like your father," and then, without another word, I left.