UKNOWN:
"For the sake of the moon would you just listen to me woman?!" The woman responded sweetly with a quiet hum.
"She got MY blood lust, MINE and yet you think its a good idea to leave her there with normal warewolves?"
"She is going to do amazing things love, now stop worrying so much and come and join me while we still have time together." Using a delicate finger she makes swirls in the bubbles of her large bath tub. The man slowly made his way over to the beautiful woman and fell to his knees, he looked deep into her dark green eyes.
"Just tell me one thing, will she at least have a mate?" His eyes pleading, knowing well she is not supposed to tell him these things.
"If she can follow her destiny she will find him, if she loses to her blood lust she will not." His eyes narrowed at her in frustration.
"How could you do this to her........ your own child"
"She has to be strong."
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8 months later
Keelin POV
Im not even going to lie, being Beta isnt as good as Damon made it seem like, he made it seem like it would be waaaaaaay more fun. But its not. I mean yeah he lets me handle the torture and execution of the prisoners which is great and im in charge of warrior training, but on the downside I hardly have any time to draw anymore. It was my escape for most of my life, the feeling of using my fingers to guide the charcoal in the right direction just soothes me.
"Um Beta, hes been unconscious for a while now." A warrior spoke in a low voice.
"Hmm? Oh it appears so." I stepped out of the cell, removing the towel from the warriors hands to wipe the blood from mine. "Thank you George" He's new and still afraid of me, as he should be.
He simply gave a curt nod.
I soon found myself on my favorite hill, focusing intently of the swirls of the charcoal as they come to life of the page. I dont know how long I have been sitting here but by the time Im done I realized in a trance I drew the the face that has been haunting my dreams.
This has been happening more and more, every time I draw from a dream I go into a trance and I can not stop until it is done.
In the dreams he calls to me in desperation, begging and pleading with me to grab his hand so I dont fall. Tears stain his cheeks, there is something regal about him and he feels familiar. But every time I reach for him my dreams dissolve and I wake up with a mixture of charcoal and blood smearing my hands and face.
I can never remember what I did or why I am waking up in the woods outside of my pack territory. All I can remember is his face.