I followed my Grandfather in complete silence as he led me down the hall and into the small library at the other end of the house. I wasn't sure what just happened, but by the way my Grandfather suddenly showed up and took me out of the room, I had little doubt that he knew what was going on.

I had a million questions for him, but I learned long ago that with him, you spoke when spoken to. He was an old school hunter and deserved and demanded respect even from his own grandchildren, so as difficult as it was, I waited...

"Sit down."

He motioned to a chair and I quickly sat down and pulled it up to the wooden table as he looked me over. I returned his gaze, photocopying to memory his features. He was more withered and his hair was grayer than I remember, but he was still a handsome man.

"Do you know what this is?"

He asked, sliding an old, yellowed page book towards me. I shook my head and continued to stare at him.

"That doesn't surprise me, your father has never been the type to care much for history and book knowledge. It's little surprise that he has raised his children to be the same way."

I bit my tongue at the jab towards my father, arguing with him would do me little good and further prolong the answers to the questions burning on the end of my tongue.

"This book is our legacy, its pages are detailed with all the hunters in our family, starting from the very first one."

My mouth dropped open and I pulled the book closer and carefully cracked open the pages. How could father keep something like this from us. I pour over the pages, my eyes quickly scanning each word. The more I saw, the more I thirst for more. Finally after a few pages in my eyes caught onto an image that struck my interest.

"What is this?"

I turned the book around and pointed at the picture, but Grandfather didn't even need to look at it before he answered.

"I'm sure your father has at least told you that hunters have been around for many, many generations and as the years have gone by, the number of hunters have greatly diminished."

I nodded my head and he continued.

"But what I am sure he neglected to tell you is that hunters now days are also much weaker and have much less power than their ancestors."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. So not only were we less in number, but also weaker? That certainly did not give me much hope for our future, especially with a werewolf war on the horizon.

"This man in this picture shows you what hunters used to be like in the olden days. Stronger, faster and more powerful. So powerful in fact, that he could physically throw his power."

I looked at the picture once more. It was a man standing with his arms stretch out and before him, everything in his path had been destroyed like a tornado had gone through.

"Is this what happened to me earlier?"

"I believe so." He answered with a slight nod of his head.

I couldn't contain the questions any longer. They burned the end of my tongue like hot coal.

"How is this possible? How could I of all people be cable of generations old power?"

Grandfather held up his hand to silence me and I huffed in frustration.

"Do you remember the day your mother died?"

"Apparently that is the topic of the day." I said angrily and crossed my arms defiantly in front of my chest.

I was tried of talking about a day that I had worked years to stomp down into the deepest, darkest part of my memory.

"Yes, yes, but do you remember why she died?"

Why? That wasn't a question I really pondered on. She died because a lycan killed her. There was no why.

"I have a splitting headache, Grandfather, can you please stop with the riddles? Why does it matter why she died? She died because a lycan killed her."

I gripped the bridge of my nose and squeezed, trying to alleviate some of the pressure forming there.

"The lycan wasn't after your mother, it was after you, she died trying to save you."

At his words, a long forgotten memory surfaced. I was outside playing when a giant wolf attack me. I didn't know it was a lycan at the time, I was too young to know about such creatures. It cornered me and I thought my life had come to an end until my mother showed up.

She did her best to keep the beast away from me, but she was just a human, she had little power over a beast as massive and as cunning as a lycan. After it killed her, it still came after me.

A tear slid down my face as I realized what my Grandfather was saying was true. It was my fault she was dead. The beast had been after me.

"Why?" I asked, blinking a few times to clear my teary vision.

"They sense it on you, even from such a young age. All the creatures with any type of supernatural ability can feel the power radiating off of you. They sense it and they want to destroy it, before you had the ability to destroy them."

I closed my eyes. It was all making sense now. All the werewolves that were being drown to me, saying that I was dominant and powerful. They were attracted to my power. It was like a beacon calling them in.

"Why now?" I have never been able do anything like what I did today and I have been fighting alongside Pops and Roary for years now."

Grandfather stroked his face with his hand, like he himself hadn't quit figured that part out yet himself. His eyes lit up suddenly and he looked towards the doorway. I turned my attention towards whatever had caught his attention and saw Rook silently waiting in the doorway.

"I believe a part of you has been missing and now that you have found that missing part, you are whole again."

Grandfather motioned towards Rook.

"I can feel your power intensify whenever he is around."

I closed my eyes, all this was too much to handle at the moment. I sensed rather than heard Rook as he approached and lightly placed his hands on my shoulders in silent support.

"I may not like the fact that he is a lycan, but truth is fated mates have always been stronger when they are together."

I leaned into Rook's palm as he bent and cupped my cheek. He dried away my tears with his rough thumb.

Grandfather cleared his throat to get our attention.

"I'm going to go speak to your father and try my best to beat some sense into him. You compose yourself and meet me on the training field, both of you. We have much work to do and a short amount of time to do it."