Chapter 3

*Bellamy's POV*

Bellamy and his mother had worked for years to keep Octavia hidden. Bellamy didn't ask his mother why he had to keep his sister a secret when all the other kids who had a sister didn't. He didn't need to be told that if she was discovered, something bad would happen. There had always been some part of him that had known, deep down, that his sister wasn't a secret that everyone would just accept.

He had been five years old when his sister was born. He remembered his mother's cries and moans as she forced herself to birth Octavia without anyone's knowledge or help, save his five-year-old self. She came crashing into the world blue in the face with a piercing shriek that Bellamy had to instantly find a way to shush while his mother rested for a moment. He was the first to hold her, this tiny little bundle of flailing limbs and sticky goop.

The moment she settled, there was a second when he looked right into her eyes and she gazed right back.

It was that instant, that exact second shared between two souls who knew nothing of the world, when Bellamy acknowledged that up till that moment, he'd only thought he'd known what love felt like. He loved the pancakes his mother made every Sunday. He loved reading Ancient Greek myths to his mother. He loved playing soccer with the boys down the road. But none of that compared, not even remotely, to the love he felt fill his entire being when she locked eyes with him. This was a love so pure, so bright, that he became utterly captivated by it.

That was the moment Bellamy vowed to himself that no one would ever hurt her and to ensure that, no one could ever know of her existence, no matter how much he might want to share her with the world. His teachers could never know she was born. His friends could never come over and see her in the tiny makeshift crib his mother had made.

No one could know.

No one could be allowed close enough that they would ask questions.

He would protect his sister and that meant that Bellamy would need to change. He was only five, but he knew his life would never be the same again, but he didn't care. Not then, not ever.

His mother told him that he should name her. It didn't take him long before he'd found the perfect name for his perfect little sister. He'd read so much about ancient history and a name came to mind, one that he thought would suit both his sister, and his need to share his love of history with her.

"Augustus had a sister, her name was Octavia." He had said out loud, thinking about the man in the history book he'd been reading. When his mother didn't protest, he smiled at his sister and whispered her name to her. It was a strong name. A powerful name.

That day and onwards, his mother would remind him that Octavia, "Is your sister, your responsibility." He didn't need his mother to remind him because he'd sworn his own vow to himself the second she was pressed into his arms. He'd taken his vow and his mother's words to heart and had always looked out for her. The day she'd been discovered, it had been his fault and he'd never forgiven himself. He would carry that blame with him forever. He'd been so stupid and careless. It broke his heart to see his sister trapped day and night. He'd just wanted to take Octavia out to shift. Just once, he wanted her to feel the grass beneath her paws and the fresh air in her lungs as she sprinted through the lush woods. It was annoying shifting indoors, especially when the wolf feared and detested it. A wolf belonged outdoors and that was what he'd told his sister.

The look on her face when she at last felt grass beneath her feet, and smelt real, fresh air, filled him with a true feeling of rightness. She'd grinned and smiled at him and he'd grinned right back. That was what she should get to experience every damn day. That was what she shouldn't have had to hide from.

They ran for hours that day, just as wolves; Octavia finally getting the freedom she longed for, Bellamy finally getting the chance to experience this with his sister. Returning home however, they found a guard by the name of Shane Johnson searching the home. It wasn't long before he noticed them trying to run. Octavia was taken, and his mother arrested. A thousand things ran through his mind, but he couldn't move his feet. What was he supposed to do?

Bellamy surrendered.

At Octavia's trial, Jake was sympathetic to him, but some laws couldn't be changed, no matter how much Jake wanted them to. His wife Abigail fought for the banishment, for the laws to be upheld. Jake didn't stand a chance when his council voted against him and vetoed any chance of Octavia having even a fraction of a chance to stay.

Octavia was banished.

My sister, my responsibility, echoed over and over in Bellamy's mind during her trial.

Octavia looked so frightened and helpless. He had to help her. He had to save her. So, he volunteered himself to go with her. He couldn't leave her alone. She knew nothing of this world. Someone had to look out for her, protect her.

And that would always be him.

The two were banished that day, never knowing the fate of their mother. Deciding they'd never look back as the gates to the private community closed behind them forever. Running into an uncertain future was not ideal. Lone wolves didn't survive long, especially young ones. Either they were killed by humans, hunters, another pack, or they died from seclusion.

That's when Bellamy began his own pack. He ruled as a young alpha and took in kids who'd been banished or had run away from packs that refused to accept them. He called his pack the hundred. It was more intimidating than the eight, the current number in the pack. And so far, it had kept them safe.

Almost a year and a half to the day after the sibling's banishment, word reached them that their previous pack's alpha had been murdered, not that they really cared, but Jake had been kind to them so they broke the rule to never look back to hold a minute of silence. It wasn't their pack anymore and all that mattered was finding some way to free their mother. It had seemed an impossible task, and they had almost lost all hope of ever freeing their mother. Then, over a year and a half later, news that the alpha's daughter no less had gone missing, either taken or a runaway, and Bellamy knew their opportunity to strike back had finally come. He put all his resources out to find her. If they could just get her, they'd have a good enough bargaining chip to get their mother back.

Just over three months later, they found her working at a bar that asked no questions and guarded its secrets with a pointed dagger. Even though they had found her, it was no easy task to snatch her. Bellamy found it ironic that out of all the possible places to run to, she'd somehow, unknowingly chosen his territory to hide in. She had no idea the number of enemies she had, now that she was no longer protected by her mother or her pack. She was an alpha's daughter. That alone would be enough to put a target on her back, but her mother was hated around these parts and others Bellamy assumed. Rival packs would want leverage over the Griffin's, or even to strike a blow that would weaken them to be ripe for a takeover. Killing the alpha's only daughter would be a good way to accomplish that. Others may target her just for vengeance against her mother for decisions made against them, or murders of their pack members, either for straying too far or in the thralls of war.

She was lucky she'd managed to hide for so long without being discovered.

Bellamy didn't have that many resources, so if he'd somehow gotten word of her disappearance, then many others who did have the resources sure would have. It would only be a matter of time before some other shifter came sniffing up her trail.

Bellamy needed to get to her before that happened. If someone else got her first, he'd have no leverage against her mother. He'd have nothing to get his own mother back or return the light to his sister's eyes.

Yet, no matter how many times he had one of his own posted outside or inside the bar, it proved surprisingly difficult. Not only did she guard herself carefully and managed to give all of them the slip every time she left the bar, but she was also carefully watched by the bar's manager. It was as if he'd become some sort of protector for the female.

By the third day, Bellamy took it upon himself to keep tabs. It wasn't that he didn't trust those in his pack, it was that he wanted to note her patterns for himself and look for an obvious weakness he could exploit.

He kept his eyes up and his ears open, always ready.

The Hundred needed to find the perfect opportunity to strike. It took longer than anticipated, but on the fourth night, they finally had.

And now, somehow the female with the golden hair, who Bellamy had dreamt of ripping apart piece by piece in front of the woman who had convinced the entire council to banish his sister and jail his mother, had convinced them to become allies.

They wouldn't be using her as a bargaining chip. They wouldn't be killing her. They wouldn't be getting their mother back. They would be allies. Allies with a spoiled princess who he wasn't entirely convinced wouldn't just bolt the first chance she could. Allies. He wanted to spit the word out.

He didn't buy this act she paraded around in. She was no better than all the other shifters who'd watched his mother be murdered. Yet, there was a look in her eyes, one that spoke of true horrors that no one could simply pretend to have endured.

He honestly didn't care. Everyone suffered. Everyone had something haunting them. She was no different. She was no worse off than any in his pack. He owed her nothing.

They'd be allies for now. As long as they needed her, Bellamy would keep her close. Once she'd served her purpose, he would kill her or if he was feeling particularly generous that day he'd spare her miserable life and send her on her way. He hated her for watching as his mother suffered. He hated the family she was born into for making his sister hide for most of her life. He hated her because her ancestors created a law that forbid Octavia from existing. He hated her because that law forced him to become an adult when he was meant to be a child.

He hated her because they needed her and the numbers she could provide to get revenge. He hated her because he hated admitting he needed help. He'd been independent all his life. He'd never needed anyone else, yet here she was convincing them that they needed her to defeat her mother.

It wasn't all her fault. He knew that. She wasn't to blame for everything he wanted to hate her for.

But Bellamy didn't want to admit that he was wrong in blaming one girl for everything that had gone wrong in his life. It was just easier to hate her and forget the rest.

Their destination was an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. It was close enough to the city that a direct attack couldn't be brought to them, but far enough away to keep their lives secret. Being secretive and safe was what had kept their little pack alive thus far and Bellamy was going to see it stay that way.

Bellamy knew someone was home the instant they hit the property line and he saw the light coming from the first story window and then caught the scent of something delicious cooking. If Bellamy had to guess he was betting the boys were making steak again. Not that he minded.

Refusing to take his eyes off the shifter at his side, he stopped and motioned with his head for her to pass. She gave him a weary glance in return.

"Keep moving," she looked taken aback at his tone until he roughly jerked his own shoulder into the princess' side. "Move."

The female snarled as she hastily caught herself before she could stumble to the ground.

"Watch it Blake. You might not bite, but I do." The ire and warning in her eyes had Bellamy callously chuckling. Her eyes, still blue, even in this form, glowed dangerously bright, but he was itching for a fight. Their earlier one had been interrupted and he yearned for round two.

"It's in your best interests to calm down and remember that the only reason you're still breathing is because Octavia thinks it best," his voice deepened as he attempted to take control and create an aura of authority. This was his territory now and she was an intruder.

Still, as much as he was an alpha here, so was she. And she knew it.

"Don't tell me what to do. You don't own me and I'm certainly not your prisoner." Clarke rammed into his side much harder than he'd done to her as she angled herself back between him and the forest behind.

"You will go first so that I can make sure you end up where you're supposed to." That way there would be absolutely no chance of him losing her to the vast woods behind.

With a huff and a shove into his side as she passed him, she trotted with her head held high like the arrogant princess he knew her to be. As she passed, her scent washed over him; Jasmine with just a hint of pine. It was a sweet scent to his nose for all of three seconds until he remembered just who she was and what she represented.

She would use every card up her sleeve to confuse and trick them into seeing her as anything but the enemy. Bellamy saw right through her. No amount of female charm in the world would distract him. There was nothing that could make him confuse the female ahead of him of being anything but his enemy.

She would try to lure them in, and he would be waiting, ready when the time came to strike her down.

*Clarke's POV*

Walking through the threshold of the home, the scents within assaulted and overwhelmed Clarke. They overpowered her senses and had her taking a step back to catch herself. Four new scents hit her immediately, a fifth she recognized as the female Octavia's, the sixth as the scent of the alpha beside her. Somewhere, deeply twined within the other scents in the home, two faint but distinctly familiar scents crashed into her. In a daze, she shook herself free of the memories. It wasn't possible, no matter how much she wished it so.

Three of the new scents were distinctly male, and the other two, female. Though out of all the scents enveloping this home, it was the male beside her, the one currently scanning the place top to bottom, whose scent hit her strongest. It was like a blow to the gut. It practically screamed, His territory.

Clarke bristled. She would not cower or run away. She was just as much an alpha as him. Him bringing her into his home and territory would not deter her. The fact that members of his pack were currently here and vastly outnumbered her, would not make her fearful.

She had faced and fought in odds much worse.

Her sensitive ears picked up two people cooking something about two rooms over. One was a male cooking something on the stove, the other was a female chatting with him. Clarke detected another shifter, the other female, doing something causing her to grunt with frustration from at least a floor below them. The fourth, a male lingered somewhere in the home, but she couldn't be sure exactly where. That claimed four of the unknown scents. Octavia did not appear to be home, along with the other shifters unknown to Clarke.

Clarke could handle four betas and one pig-headed alpha. Though for how long would it only be the four of them? The other scents in the home were fresh, and their owners likely close by. She had to remind herself that though she despised the male beside her, and wished only to cause him difficulty, they had become allies and it would not be wise to test him when he held such an advantage over her.

Gods how she relished damning the odds placed against her. But not here and not now. Not when so much rested on her shoulders. When the lives of her friends rested on her being able to stick it out here and get along with the occupants.

Admitting defeat was not a pill swallowed easily. But accepting help was not defeat. Her pack came before her pride.

"Your pack, will they make an attempt on my life?" Clarke had to ask. If she were part of some outsider pack and the daughter of one of the most hated alphas waltzed in, she'd likely have a bone to pick. She just wanted to be prepared. Clarke had no idea who else within Bellamy's pack had been scorned by her mother or knew someone who had.

If they did, she would not let them win. She was fighting for more than just herself.

"No, not unless I give the order." The tone of the male's voice indicated he was considering it. She lifted an unimpressed eyebrow in retaliation. "I'm the alpha here and they will all obey my orders, whether they like it or not."

Clarke snorted. He was young and he'd been an alpha for all of what, a few months, a year? It took many years to instill that respect and hierarchy into juvenile shifters. It was the time when those born to be alphas often had to fight for their positions against betas who coveted the position. From the scents lingering in the home, Clarke doubted any of the residents were considered true adults.

With a sneer in her direction, the alpha male roughly gripped her arm and dragged her with him from the hallway into what she assumed was a living room. If she'd had no inkling of just who lived in this home, she would know it from the state of the room alone. The two couches pressed against the back walls had certainly seen better days. Empty beer bottles and soda cans lay littered around the room. The small flat screen TV mounted on the side wall had a crack across the screen and the walls were covered in chipped paint.

Honestly Clarke had never seen something more beautiful.

It was clear this place was lived in, was loved. The scents of the pack members rested heavily in this room, likely because it was the social gathering room.

Her heart yearned for her friends to one day have something like this. She honestly didn't care if the place was a dump. If they were free and together, she would live out of a cardboard box.

Mistaking her awe for disgust, Bellamy narrowed his eyes. "Not up to your standards princess?"

Clarke blinked herself out of her thoughts and focused back on the present. She scowled at him and not wanting him to know how vulnerable she'd just been, looked down her nose at him and said, "I've certainly been tortured in much better dungeons."

A low warning growl slipped out his mouth at the comment before his roughly calloused hands shoved her into the nearest cushion.

"Shut your mouth and sit down." If he was trying to intimidate her with that look, it wasn't working. She could have laughed by how unintimidated she was. The eyes she'd originally believed to be onyx actually appeared the colour of chestnut in this lighting. They did not frighten her, nor did the waves of pure alpha male rolling off of him. There wasn't much that frightened her anymore. She'd seen things, heard things, been through such unspeakable things that no one should ever have to suffer. This alpha was nothing compared to that. He was an ant beneath her boot and she was eager to remind him of it. Clarke rolled her eyes and brushed him off by choosing to examine her nails. That got him stiffening with something akin to fury she's sure. Good.

"You do know, it's entirely possible that if you ask me nicely, I might actually co-operate." Lifting her ice blue eyes from her damaged cuticles, not that she'd ever cared about their appearance, she cocked her head and gave him a slanted grin, one meant to get a rise out of him. If the locking of his jaw and the tautness with which he now faced her was any suggestion, it had worked.

"And where would the fun be in that?" Having brushed off her dismissal, he watched her with a new hint of amusement. With a glint in his eyes, he resumed his favourite position; arms folded across his broad chest, showing off the muscles in his arms. Honestly, did he do anything other than that?

Then the smirk returned to his face as he assessed her, back stiff, and refusing to lean against the cushion. Clarke wanted to shift and snarl at this male until he backed off and cleared the smirk from his face. She would wipe it off his face with a well-placed hit if she believed it would keep him from doing it again. He knew it irked her and so he continued to do it.

Clarke rolled her eyes and chose to ignore the question.

Allies. You are allies now, so act it Griffin, she inwardly berated herself. Deep breath, in, out. Assess the situation. Do not lose control. Do not let him win.

Crossing one leg over the other, and propping an arm on her knee while resting her chin on said hand, she merely blinked and tapped her foot. Two could certainly play this game and Clarke was intent on winning. If he insisted on being a nasty host, then no matter what agreement they'd come to, Clarke would insist on being an uncooperative guest. She could sit and be silent for days, if that's what it took. Not that she wanted that outcome. She didn't have the time for it, but this bastard alpha didn't need to know that. She'd wait for him to start treating her with respect, that owed not only to another alpha, but also to any guest in one's territory. Until then, he'd get nothing, including her help in any of this.

With a low growl, likely in both frustration and annoyance, the alpha finally caved. "What do you want Griffin?" Clarke took note of just how little time she'd had to wait for him to give in. Oh yes, he was quite impatient. At least she'd been able to glean that bit of information from him. She'd use that to her advantage in the future. If she was given the opportunity.

And she had no doubt it wouldn't be long that she'd have to wait.

Ticking off her fingers, Clarke began her list of demands.

"First, I am your guest. A drink would be nice. Second, as you keep saying, though I am not a princess, I am an alpha in my own right, so I want some respect. Third, I'm not the female you think I am, so don't judge a book by its cover. And that about settles it. Once I get my drink, we can have a nice little chat." Tapping a finger against her chin as if she had all the time in the world, she pursed her lips and stared him down. As hard as he tried, and he did try, the pure alpha vibes radiating from him did nothing to intimidate or unsettle her. She hardly even blinked, just letting out a light huff of impatience. This really could be so much simpler for him.

He might be the alpha of this pack, but she was also an alpha. It was in her blood, it was her legacy. She wouldn't let him boss her around, she was finished being a puppet shuffled about by whomever held her strings. The second she'd walked through that cursed gate, she cut those strings once and for all. No one would ever have that kind of power over her again.

"As you wish, princess," Bellamy gave her a mocking bow with a scowl plastered on his face. She smirked at his backside as he left the room. This was seeming to be easier than she had anticipated… Perhaps it was all a ruse. To trick her and make her believe this impatient act. She could not lose focus or drop her guard. Not ever.

Moments later, Bellamy appeared in the doorway, glass in hand and two males and a female flanking him. She recognized the three scents, she'd smelt them upon entering the house. They each belonged to this pack. The first male that her eyes landed on had some eerie vibe coming from him. He smirked at her, different from the smirks Bellamy shot her way. This male looked as if he had won some contest and was readying to collect his prize. Clarke shivered, as the wolf released a low growl, her hackles completely raised.

She would stay away from that one.

The second was neither as large nor as tall as the alpha or the unsettling male. He was obviously a more submissive wolf. Perhaps a year or two her senior, he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. His slicked back brown hair, and shifty eyes, had her thinking he reminded her more of a jackal than a wolf. When he noticed her gaze assessing him, he snarled. Clarke hardly blinked before moving her evaluation over to the female.

The female's dark, wavy hair was wrapped in a messy bun atop her head and she was stunning to look at. A gentle scowl of curiosity rested on her face. This female clung to Bellamy's side, radiating possessive vibes. Cocking her head with confusion, Clarke realized there were no other females in the room. That meant those vibes were meant for her. This female thought that Clarke had some sort of interest in Bellamy. She had to chuckle at the implication. As the female noticed her gaze locking on the brazen hand claiming the alpha, her scowl deepened and her fingers locked onto the alpha's arm harder.

Raking her gaze up and down the pair, Clarke then forced an amused smirk onto her own face. Let this female think what she wanted.

Clarke did not care one ounce what any of Bellamy's pack thought of her or her intentions. As long as they listened to their alpha and helped her free her pack, they could think whatever the fuck they wanted about her.

Though another shifter may have stood to give themselves a better chance if a fight broke out, Clarke refused to move. By remaining seated she showed she did not fear either this pack or the fact that they now outnumbered her four to one.

She displayed a look of boredom on her face, one she'd perfected years ago.

It took all of five seconds before it had been completely wiped from her face as her gaze jumped to a newcomer pushing his way through the crowd. Four seconds before she was on her feet, a dazed look in her eyes and the drink she'd asked for completely forgotten. And three seconds for Clarke to take in the newcomer and realize that he was not a delusion and was indeed real. She blinked a few times, trying to comprehend why he was here, how he got here, how against all odds they'd managed to find each other.

He too stopped once he'd pushed ahead of the others and just as it took Clarke a moment to take him in, he blinked at her as if he wasn't sure if she were real or just a mirage.

Two seconds. That's how long it took him to decide she was real and nearly bulldoze her over with the force of his hug. One second. That's how long it took for her to squeeze him back and decide that she was never ever leaving without him again.

One silent tear of complete relief, rolled down her cheek as she fully lost herself in his familiar scent. Nearly crumbling in his arms, she allowed herself this moment of peace and security with another of her kind. It had been so long. Wolves were social creatures and it was no different for their cousins. Shifters needed pack life and the stability and community brought with it. Clarke knew it had been difficult, spending three months without human contact in any physical sense, but holding him now, feeling his solid form pressed against her had her silently sobbing. She'd craved touch for so long. It had been torture to go so long without it.

Clarke had learned early on in her mother's reign how to live with minimal affection. It had been almost a decade since her mother last offered her the comfort of a simple hug on a stormy night. And once her father was murdered, she'd had to live without her father holding her head on his knee while stroking her hair, and whispering stories in her ears.

But even under Abigail's torturous reign, where touch of any kind, whether physical or emotional was strictly prohibited, she'd still had her pack offering her secret companionship in every dark corner. But when she'd run, she'd been alone. It had just been her and her wolf. The wolf had honestly suffered more than the human. The human side of Clarke had had to force every emotion, and every need down deep in order to survive. The wolf did not understand why she was alone or why the human continued to put distance between herself and their pack.

Clarke tossed every demand she'd ever given herself aside and held him close while cherishing this moment. Thoughts bombard her as she refused to let him go. He had made it. They had listened to her letter. I'm not the only one who had been able to escape. And most importantly; I'm not alone here. Not anymore.

Someone cleared their throat.

Clarke didn't care if the entire world grew impatient with her, it had been ages since she'd seen him, and breathed in his scent. She was reluctant to let him go anytime soon.

This male was one of her best friends and one of her betas. His name was Nathan Miller, but everyone called him Miller and he'd been at her side through the best and worst years of her life. He, unlike all the others in this fast crowding room, understood everything. He understood her like no one else could. Except perhaps for one other shifter Clarke was hesitant to hope had also made it here.

The third time someone cleared their throat, Clarke released a growl echoed by Miller before finally slipping out of each other's arms. Able to now fully take him in, Clarke ran her eyes over him, taking in his appearance looking for everything that was the same and anything that was new. His darker skin and deep chocolate gaze were as familiar to her as her own hands. She ran a hand over his cheek where a new scar graced his skin. Rage swept through her. At first at their prior captors. Who had done this? Then at herself. She hadn't been there to protect him. His hair was wind swept as if he'd just come inside, which was likely the reason Clarke hadn't smelt his scent as strongly earlier. Why she'd believed her senses had been playing tricks on her.

"Clarke?" He took her face into his own hands, running them over her cheeks, taking a scan of her body, looking for the similarities and differences since they'd seen each other last, just as she was. He sounded afraid, as if this might be a dream and any second she would disappear.

"Nathan. It's real. I'm real." She smiled up at him, finding much needed comfort in his presence. He closed his eyes as a relieved look overcame his features.

"Say it," he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath as she whispered in his ear the words they'd whispered each time they'd been separated and reunited. The words, used to prove they were real and not one of the delusions created in their minds by their tormentors. The words an anchor meant to pull them back from the brink.

"Are you alone?" Clarke questioned, not in regard to physically alone here, but in being alone in escaping.

"You think he'd still be alive if he'd escaped all on his lonesome? That idiot wouldn't be able to tell the difference between left and right without a hand to guide him." Clarke paused as she instinctively knew exactly who had arrived. The female storming into the room on a wind created by her flames of confidence wouldn't have even had to say a word and Clarke would have known. Her presence alone awakened a piece within Clarke that had been slumbering since the moment she'd left and hadn't looked back.

Miller needed no instruction, verbal or otherwise. He stepped aside as Clarke looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with the owner of those words. In only seconds, Clarke had thrown herself at the female, who chuckled before gripping her back just as tight.

They exchanged no words, everything they wanted to say was conveyed in their embrace. I missed you. I'm sorry. You're safe. It's been so hard. I'll never leave again. Let's never do this again.

"Oh, Gods Raven, I've- it's-" Clarke didn't get a chance to finish.

"I know. Me too." Raven squeezed Clarke's arm, while giving her a remorseful half smile. They would speak later, without so many prying ears.

"You both made it out. All three of us made it out." Clarke's eyes lit up as they landed first on Miller, then her other best friend and beta, Raven. "How? I mean when? Did the others get out?" Hope coated her voice at the possibility they'd all just got up and left together. Though something gnawed at her insides. She didn't want to acknowledge that if they'd all made it out, that it wouldn't only be Raven and Miller standing here, greeting her.

"I didn't let myself hope you'd all just see and break through the hold they had on us. Gods, I wouldn't have if I were you. I didn't dare dream that she'd leave you unscathed after she discovered I'd left when I did. I didn't know if my leaving meant your deaths. If you'd become trapped without an escape. I wasn't sure I'd see you again, not in this life anyway." Clarke grew increasingly more emotional as everything came crashing down on her. Her two best friends had made it. They'd not only survived, but broken the chains holding them captive.

But they were alone, so she didn't allow herself to hope more were safe.

"We left not long after you did. We discovered the letter you left and some of us, particularly this one," he gestured to Raven, "knew something was wrong. We knew you had to be cryptic in the letter in case Abigail found it before we did, but for whatever reason, you had run and that meant we were going to run too."

"How did you get out? Surely the alarm was raised the moment they discovered I'd left. Did they- Were there more of you, who got away?" Clarke's not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"A bunch of us left, Clarke. You have more influence within our pack than you believe you do. When they heard you'd fled, the amount of shifters ready to flee tripled from when we'd discussed it after your father's death." The number had tripled? They'd believed in her enough that her fleeing had caused them to want to flee too? They'd all known somewhere, deep down that what Abigail and her councillors were doing to them and everyone else, was wrong. None of them had had the courage to leave. Not even Clarke. As soon as she did, it changed. They were willing to flee with her and take on all of the risks that posed.

"We wanted to find you Clarke, but we couldn't. The steps you took to hide yourself from the trackers, posed too difficult even for Raven to find you." Clarke gulped. She'd never meant to hide from her friends, from Raven especially. Her note had never mentioned where she was going or what she planned to do. It had been a desperate plea for them to flee and find safety wherever they could. Part of her regretted that now, but she hadn't even known where she was going to go at the time.

"You hid yourself pretty damn well." Raven chuckled and then her face fell. "We left in a large group, but obviously only two of us are here. About two days after we'd fled, we lost some. Del and Glass were killed." Not killed, Clarke thought. Her mother did not kill, she butchered. "The others, they managed to grab. They dragged them away, tranquilized them and loaded them up on the truck." Clarke knew exactly what truck Raven spoke of. A large black truck used to haul traitors back into Abigail's clutches.

Her entire being collapsed in on itself. How many? How many had been forced back because she had decided to leave without them? This was her fault. Del and Glass would still be alive if she'd just waited a day and told them all her plan. If she hadn't been so selfish, they could have left together. They could have survived together.

"But we managed to get away, Clarke. Raven and I. We made it out because you gave us the courage we needed. We are free." Miller gently touched her chin and lifted so she could meet his gaze. "We are free Clarke and you pushed that into existence."

"I'm sorry." Clarke muttered, tears already crashing from her eyes. "I didn't know. I didn't want you all to follow. Not like that. It's all my fault. I should have just warned all of you, forced you to come with me when I left. If I had-"

"No. Don't blame yourself. We all knew the risks. The idea of freedom, of finding you and creating a new pack with new, better laws was worth every risk." Miller wiped the tears beneath her eyes.

"We would follow you anywhere Clarke. You've always been the one to protect us, to lead us and it was time we all finally grew some balls and took matters into our own hands. You didn't sentence us to death, you gave us something to fight for. This, right here, it's not much, but for the first time in years I am not looking over my shoulder, afraid that I'll look at someone the wrong way and earn myself twenty shock lashes. I'm not afraid to say what's comes to my mind." She paused and took a breath before continuing in a whisper. "And I'm not waiting to be locked in that cell again, counting the seconds before He lets me out."

Clarke threw herself at Raven, crushing the female in her arms. If Clarke had anything to say about it, Raven would never, ever be locked in that cell again. As long as she still breathed, Raven would never be subjected to that sadistic monster again. She would die before He could so much as look in Raven's direction.

"Release the claws girl, I'm stronger than I look." Clarke scanned the weary smile Raven had plastered on her face. She took her hand and squeezed.

"When did you both get here?" Clarke asked, looking back between Miller and Raven.

"About three weeks ago now, I think. Time passes differently here." The look in Miller's eyes said it all. She knew what he meant. Here her best friends hadn't been counting the seconds until they were released from a cell. Here time didn't pass based on when the next beating would occur, or the next time they'd be locked in solitary confinement. Here day and night passed effortlessly, without the day to day mile markers they'd become accustomed to.

Clarke nodded her understanding.

Bellamy for the umpteenth time cleared his throat and the trio all turned on him with low snarls of warning. You did not interrupt the reunion of packmates. Though, Clarke must begrudgingly set aside her need to bury her face in the crook of each of their necks and take in their scents. She had her reunion, now she must be an alpha and negotiate with this infuriating male.

Wiping her eyes, Clarke faced off with the alpha. A look flitted over his face, but as soon as she noticed, it was gone again. The scowl returned full force.

"Now that that lovely reunion is over, this is Dax, Murphy, and Roma." Bellamy pointed to each individual shifter staring at her trio now. The first, Dax had still not lost the look in his eye, if anything it had increased. Murphy looked a touch weary that she now had back up on her side, basically evening their sides out. And Roma, oh Roma looked ready to burst. Two females now in the room had that hand digging into Bellamy's arm with claws. So much so, he hissed at her.

"Don't go introducing yourself Cara, or whatever your name is," Clarke let loose a growl, "We know who you are."

Apparently not, if the gutsy little bitch couldn't even get her name right. Though Clarke suspected it was all a part of the game the female would be playing. Roma could feel the powerful alpha vibes emanating from Clarke and apparently did not want to concede any sort of position to her. This arrogant little wolf wanted to challenge her. Clarke honestly couldn't blame her. The she-wolf was obviously not an alpha, but maintained some sort of high position in this pack. With the introduction of an actual alpha female, she felt threatened. Clarke knew that Roma had sent that challenge not only to announce herself as a high-ranking female, but to also warn Clarke away from whom Roma believed was her mate: Bellamy. The arrival of an alpha female in the territory of an unmated alpha male could often end in the mating of the alpha pair and the creation of a new pack. While Clarke and Bellamy had the intention to join together, it was not going to be as mates. Absolutely not. However, watching the female get all riled up after she'd been rude to Clarke first, would certainly take the edge off the misery she was feeling.

With a hint of a smile, and a coy look Bellamy's way, Clarke winked at the female. The reaction Clarke received made the sorrow dissipate for a moment.

Grumbling, Bellamy had to resort to clamping a hand down on the shoulder of the snapping female and sent her out of the room.

Oh, Clarke would have been all too eager to play Roma's little game if this were a different situation and if she had less self-control. Clarke had been nothing but a near perfect guest when she arrived. Roma, obviously weary in whatever position she held, had decided to attack her first. Clarke couldn't lie, she'd certainly started her fair share of fights, but she'd had no intention of doing so here. Except with Bellamy. Everything about the alpha rubbed her the wrong way. With Roma however, she'd be content if the female let it go. She didn't have time for pack politics and petty rivalries. If the female couldn't, well then Clarke would just have to put her in her place.

"Watch yourself Clarke, this is my territory." Bellamy shot her a warning glance to which he received the most innocent look as if to say: What? I didn't do anything.

"Now that that has concluded, there are a few other members of this pack. Monroe is the other resident she-wolf aside from Octavia, but she's in the basement. You'll meet her later. Everyone who is not the princess, go back to your business. I'm going to have a nice chat with her now." Watching Dax and Murphy exit, Bellamy's gaze narrowed in on Miller and Raven at her side.

"They stay." There was no room for discussion in the tone of her voice. Her betas were not going to leave her side for the foreseeable future. She'd literally just gotten them back.

The alpha's scent grew thick with impatience, but with a simple huff, he nodded. Please, she snorted in return, as if she needed his permission.

Raven bared her teeth at him momentarily before gently tugging the hand still held by Clarke in the direction of the couch. They both took a seat, one ready for an attack, the other readying for a different kind of attack. Miller, however, slunk back to the corner of the room, one eye on his alpha and co-beta, the other constantly assessing for any form of threat. With the two of them back at her side, Clarke knew she could face anything, even this pig-headed stubborn ass of an alpha. With that in mind, she readied herself to tell her story, both to Bellamy and the two betas she prayed would understand.