Disclaimer: Any character or theme or name and anything else from the movies/books I DO NOT OWN. The plot for this story I do own, as well as Veriea and the species Forenien and anything else that pertains to her world previous to her 'encounter' as well as the individual characters that are not from the afore mentioned areas. These characters are my creations and mine alone so NO TOUCHIE! If anyone rips off my characters or species I will send the real Veriea after them.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Pronunciations:

Veriea: Verr-ree-ah

Ver'ei'a: Veh-e-ah

Forenien: For-en-ee-en

Cartarea: Car-tar-ay

Vocabulary:

Kainde Amedha: hard meat/ xenomorph

Gaun-Thwei: night blood

Chiva: trial/ test

Setg'in kwei: tricky/ quick

Pyode Amedha: soft meat/ human (ooman)

Yeyinde: brave one

Pauk: fuck

Ell-osde c'jit: damn you

C'jit: damn/ shit/ general expletive

Pauk'de: fucking/ fucker

Hulij-bpe: crazy

Mei'hswei: brother (also use between close companions/clan mates)

Kerhite: training ground/training ring

Jehdin-jehdin: hand-to-hand combat (one-on-one)

Zazin: self-centered

Thwei'tek: blood bond (used to fuse strands of hair into dreadlocks)

M-di'h'dlak: no fear

Naxa: a kind of fruit from the Yautja home world

Thwei: blood

Sy'ua: wow/whoa (you get the idea)

Lou-dte kalei: child maker/female (usually a derogatory term)

Kantra: prayer

Ki'ct-pa: wrist blades

Awu'asa: armor

Cn'tlip: alcoholic drink

ki'its-pa: hunting spear

Enjoy the story ; P

WARNING! : This chapter contains themes that may be disturbing to younger or squeamish readers. This story is rated M for a reason. You have been warned. If you still read it and are traumatized or something, I can't be held responsible because I did warn you. If you aren't supposed to be here, I can't be held responsible for that either and I wag my finger disapprovingly at you.

Chapter 10 – Cut

(–)

After being dragged to the room, her hands were bound above her head, her legs shackled akimbo and a hide muzzle was strapped around her head, trapping her jaws shut. She expected the guards to lay into her, why else would they restrain her so but strangely, they merely watched her as she growled at them. She was wondering what they had in store for her when the door opened.

A different feline male stepped into the room and the air went out of her lungs.

Her vision focused in on him and something deep inside her cried out in a silent, anguished howl.

He was patterned in dusky greys, a blaze of paler grey at his throat, his fingers darker than the rest of his hands and his fuzz-tipped ears an almost black, the left one with three gold earrings hanging from it. His eyes, already brightened by the wide bands of black half encircling them, were a startling blue that seemed to draw her in. Behind him, a tail that reminded her strongly of a loin's – save for colour – twitched in what seemed to be anticipation.

She didn't understand her reaction to the male; she was sure she hadn't ever seen him before but something in her recognized him and wanted to curl in on itself. For a moment when she had first looked at him, she'd seen another image, like a whisper of a memory, super-imposed over her vision, of this male standing next to another male that looked similar, slightly older with violet eyes. She didn't know where this image came from but despite knowing that she had never seen him before, she she had the oddest feeling that she knew him. She was so focused on him, that she didn't notice when the guards left.

The male seemed to stare at her a long time.

She felt his gaze travel along her body as keenly as if he was actually touching her. He didn't say anything, just continued to watch her, as if something about her puzzled him. After what seemed like an age, he stepped towards her and the sudden movement made her flinch. The male frowned.

It confused her that her reaction should displease him; the others had seemed to enjoy the fear they caused in her.

The male continued forward and reached out, placing one hand gently on her brow, his hand stroking down the fur between her ears and curling down around her left cheek. The tender-seeming action was so unexpected that for a moment she found her self leaning into the gentle touch while at the same time, some part of her recoiled from the male himself.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" His words were soft spoken, like he was trying to calm a startled animal.

Because the tightness of the muzzle didn't allow her to speak clearly, she shook her head in answer.

He smiled gently at her. "But you recognize me, don't you?"

She didn't know how he knew that and she considered lying to him, but she was curious. He obviously knew her, beyond her current circumstances. Slowly, she nodded.

"I know you, Veriea." He smiled as her eyes widened in shock. "Yes, I know your name, even though you've never uttered it in this place to anyone. I have never forgotten your unusual markings or your strange, fire-bright eyes; Empath eyes, if I'm not mistaken. How quaint that you should choose that name for this form, despite not knowing the history of it."

The male stroked her neck, carding his fingers through her fur. She shivered at the sensation. "I should really thank you for killing my brother; he was all that stood between me and the power I have now."

He seemed to tire of her muteness and flicked deft fingers over the buckles of the muzzle, loosening it and slipping it off.

Veriea was stunned by both his words and actions. She had never killed anyone her life, not even in battle or at least not directly - none that she knew of. She didn't even know who this feline was.

The male seemed amused by her confusion. "Cat got your tongue dear?" He purred.

"Who are you?" She finally ventured to ask, goaded by his comment. "How do you know me?"

He smiled at her, remaining far enough into her personal space to keep her uncomfortable.

"Who am I, she asks?" He parroted back, finally stepping away from her and raising his arms high. "I am ruler of all you see. I am Zaiaku, the Patriarch, King of Bast'ara and Emperor of the United Empire."

Veriea felt rather foolish when the first words out of her mouth were;

"But I thought the Ruler of the Empire was Queen Haather?"

More so when Zaiaku just laughed.

"Ah, I forget you have been locked away so long. The Matriarch is no longer. Interestingly enough, she has defected; falling with her lover, the Head Alpha of the Anu'bisains no less! It is no wonder the war efforts had been so pitiful as late with such a sympathizer at the helm." The feline seemed to be utterly delighted with his ability to stun her to silence. "In point of fact, the operation that brought you here was my debut. I must say, I'm very pleased with the results." His outright leer was enough for Veriea to find her tongue once more.

"What do you want with me? I'm nothing special; there's a thousand more like me out there."

"I quite doubt that, my dear. Self-sacrifice in the heat of battle is one thing – it's easy enough to do when you're either dying or have no time to think through and really consider the consequences, especially when you signed up to do the fighting – but you, my dear? How long were you left to consider what would happen to you? To the others? How many times after the first time did you disregard your own comforts to save those others from the same. We've seen older stock trying to protect the younger before but usually after the first couple sessions they stop. You kept trying to protect them, fully knowing what the guards would do to you. And of course, you never had any duty to do so; you're barely trained, not even related to any of them, so what reason do you have to keep fighting for them? To sacrifice what little comfort you could gain for them?"

His clear desire for an actual answer had her speaking before she could really think it through for herself.

"They needed me. I was the oldest and they were so young..."

"A maternal desire then." He summed up as if it was a logical conclusion. "How noble and yet so primal; a mother protecting her cubs. How ironic even."

"I'm nobody's mother!" She denied, despite realizing that her actions could be seen as such.

"Heh, well. We'll have to change that, won't we my dear?"

"What?"

Zaiaku approached her again, one hand going to her waist and stroking her belly, the other at her throat to hold her back against the wall as she then tried to lunge forward and bite him for the intimate touch.

"You know, you could share my power, Veriea. I find I quite like you and I have no Queen as yet. I would love nothing more than to see your belly swell with child. My child. Could you see it, Veriea? You and I on the throne of the Empire? Of the Verses? Our offspring, the heirs to all of existence?"

"I see that you're fucking crazy because I would die before I would submit to the person who wants to destroy my world and either kill or enslave the people I love and care about!" She snarled and spat at him.

The spittle landed between his eyes and he pulled away. As he wiped it from his face, he only smiled at her.

"How unfortunate. I was hoping you would see reason and take the easy path but I see you will need some educating before you take your place at my side."

He pressed the door release and three male guards entered. He said something to them that she couldn't hear and one of them began to approach her, pulling off his uniform top and unbuckling his weapon belt as he did. The others took up positions on either side of the door, on the outside.

Zaiaku looked back at her as he spoke to the guards, capturing her horrified attention from the male that was now removing the rest of his clothing. "No permanent damage but as long as necessary without compromising her health. I want her broken."

He did not even pause in his stride when he heard her anguished and enraged howl echo through the corridors only moments later.

(-)

Veriea awoke with a start to find her furred blankets trying to strangle her.

Calming down a little, she disentangled herself from the sheets and punched her pillows a few times, trying to relieve her frustration. It didn't work.

She knew she couldn't sleep peacefully again tonight and one nightmare was more than enough for her – particularly that one – so she got up and started to don her clothes, gauntlets and shin guards, though leaving the rest of her armory where it was, ears perked alertly and her tail twitching in agitation.

An irritating alert system, she thought as she strode out of her door and silently padded down the hall, past the bridge and to the air lock, tapping in the code. As she leapt down to the sands of the beach where The Cn'tlip was hidden, cloaked safely among the cliffs, she dropped to all fours and decided that a good, long run was what she needed. As she ran along the dark shoreline, she thought about all she'd learned in the last few months.

It seemed that her nightmares becoming so frequent was an indication to the approach of her heat cycle, becoming more intense and less dream-like as the preluding week wore on, apparently caused by the influx of hormones in her system. She'd also been rather dismayed to find that her speculation as to the frequency of her heat cycles was turning out to be right, this being the second onslaught since they had left the Homeworld and, more or less, halfway through the rotation.

She had learned as well, the hard way, that the musk of a female in heat tended to attract the attention more than just yautja males; the boys still teased her about the troop of me'a'kazes – small, tree-dwelling family animals – that had followed her around last time. Thought they did have a very nice set of the striped furs now and the meat had lasted them a few weeks.

Veriea slowed and moved down the sands a little so that the water washed over her hands and feet. The sounds of the waves lapping at the shore was gentle in the night air and it soothed her a bit but by no means completely. Tonight's nightmare still haunted her, as did the memory that supplied it.

What she wouldn't give for there to be some magic way for her to forget but short of trying to beat herself senseless, there wasn't and she didn't particularly feel like braining herself stupid; she had to learn to cope with them. She just wished they didn't affect her so badly. Her eyes gleaming iridescent in the moonlight, Veriea turned and started up the beach, heading for the scrub and tall trees where they had been hunting the previous day.

Perhaps a chase, a hunt like she use to do would help. It was still very dark, the moon high in the black, start-strewn sky, but it was not too early to catch breakfast and it would give her something purposeful to do.

Head low, she cast around for a trail and when she found one, she set off.

(-_-,)

It was only just beginning to lighten when she returned to The Cn'tlip with her kill, already skinned and cleaned. It was a smallish, deer-like creature with great big claws instead of hooves and a long tail that ended in a scythe-like blade about 8 inches long. She had a few scratches on her arms and legs from its claws and two large gashes on her back and shoulder from its tail but she was very happy with her hunt and had taken its tail blade to make a knife, as well as a few claws and its skull as trophies. She packed the meat away into the storage, cleaned up her trophies and herself and went back outside to work on her soon-to-be knife and watch the planet's twin suns rise.

It was as the sky was turning a deep green-blue just before true dawn, that Veriea became aware that she had company.

"Morning." She said, not looking up as she finished her work. She already knew who it was; she'd gotten good at telling the boys apart simply from their presence.

"I noticed the extra meat in the storage; you've been hunting already?" G're'e'cha asked, sitting down next to her. She felt warmer and more relaxed for his presence.

"Ages ago. Like my new knife? Breakfast was kind enough to supply it." She offered up the finished blade for his inspection.

"You're getting good at making blades. Your first one was honestly rather pathetic but this is good; you've balanced the handle and the blade perfectly. I think your Teki'ke'a friend would be proud. I like the grips you've put on the handle." He commented as he experimenting with the knife, putting it through its paces. "Wouldn't stand up to hard meat blood though." He said, handing it back to her, handle first.

"Not much does." She snorted, knowing he was trying to bait her. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment.

"Exactly how long have you been up?" She shrugged. "Nightmares?"

"One. I knew I wasn't going to get any more sleep and instead tried to tire myself out, you know, too tired to dream. Not working all that well though; still wide awake."

"Ver'ei'a," He admonished. "That's not good for you. If you'd just let one of us-"

"No." She growled. "I rather think waking up with someone groping me once is quite enough. Besides, you guys won't always be there; I have to learn to deal with it on my own."

"What makes you think we won't always be here?" G're'e'cha demanded.

"That's what happens; people drift apart eventually. You guys will probably find Life Mates at some point and you aren't going to want to spend all your time hanging around each other then."

G're'e'cha sat broodingly for a moment, watching her closely.

"Let me rephrase that then; what makes you think I won't always be there for you?"

Veriea blinked, confused for a moment.

Dare she hope…

"I'm not sure what you're trying to say, G're'e'cha." She said carefully.

"I like you, Ver'ei'a, a lot." G're'e'cha brushed one of her dreadlock behind her ear. "I want to be there for you. You aren't like other females, not just in the obvious ways." He chuckled softly. "And you let me get away with teasing you with only minor injuries, too."

Veriea looked away, out at the thin horizon over the water, swallowing hard.

She had suspected this and if she was perfectly honest with herself, she had hoped. Somewhere between being a pain in the ass and being protective of her, she had found herself attracted to him, how, she wasn't quite sure but she had and for all his teasing and flirting, she couldn't bring herself to believe that he could be a real possibility. He made her laugh, something she was definitely in need of, always knew if something was bothering her and was definitely that little extra bit more protective of her than the others. He was completely honest with her and realized fully that she had different needs than the yautja females.

"G're'e'cha…" She completely forgot what she'd been about to say when she found him a lot closer than he had been a second ago.

For one idiotic moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.

The rational part of her brain was saying; hello? They don't have lips! Yautja kissing – equals – physically impossible; get your mind out of the gutter!

So she was surprised when he gentle ran the tips of his mandibles across her cheeks. That feels nice… she thought absently. She quivered as he did it again. It sure felt like a kiss, only without the lip-locking and her hormones seemed to know what it was because they surged up with a vengeance as she eyes fluttered close of their own accord and she sighed. Since when did her cheeks become endogenous zones?

And did she just sigh?

He moved his attentions down to her neck and automatically she tilted her head to give him access, which brought a purr of pleasure from G're'e'cha and he gently nipped her skin with his teeth. "The others…?"

She mentally cringed at how clueless (and breathless) she sounded and was about to make another attempt at speaking in a coherent sentence when he answered her.

"I already spoke with them. They approve." He mumbled, tickling her skin. Did he always know what she was thinking? She was supposed to be the Empath.

He lifted his hands, placing one at the nape of her neck, kneading her taunt muscles and the other began to massage her ear. Between that and what he was doing to her throat, Veriea felt like her brain was short circuiting. G're'e'cha traced his finger tips across her collar bone and a small mewling escaped her, drawing another purring chuckle from G're'e'cha.

She didn't have a clue when it had happened but somehow they had ended up lying down in the sand, G're'e'cha leaning over her but apparently being very careful to keep his weight off of her. She had to smile at that; even now he was being so careful and protective of her. It was rather hard to think though, with him nibbling on her neck like that.

G're'e'cha was slowly tracing the scars on her shoulders with backs of his knuckles and Veriea wondered absently what it was about yautja blood that made their scars stand out so darkly against the skin as she admired his. He was tracing her skin with his talon tips now, inducing a delicious shiver to tingle its way down her spine. Her hands had taken a life of their own it seemed, roaming his chest and shoulders.

Maybe she could handle this now, maybe she was ready…

She kissed his neck and he purred again and she could feel the vibrations it caused through his skin. She could smell his aroused musk strongly from this close but it didn't seem noxious to her as the other male's had. If he was this attentive and gentle all the time she could really get used to this….

She gasped and jerked back as G're'e'cha gazed a set of scars beneath her right collar bone with his claws. Misinterpreting the sound, he repeated the action, this time his talons more gentle but they matched the jagged lines as if he were carving them himself and a coil of inexplicable panic shot though her. For a moment out side of time she was somewhere else and she saw cold blue eyes leering at her and she couldn't hear G're'e'cha calling her name for the blood rushing in her ears.

She felt herself being gently shaken and she snapped back to reality, pushing G're'e'cha away from her roughly and scrambling backward, eyes wide. She looked up at him, realized what she had done and collapsed in on herself hugging her knees into her chest and burying her face in them, her tail wrapping around her feet, ears drooping with a whimper.

G're'e'cha tentatively lay a hand on her shoulder, pulling back when she flinched. "Ver'ei'a?" He said softly. "I'm sorry, did I- Did I hurt you?"

"No." Her small voice came, muffled by her knees. Gods, she felt awful, leaving him in the lurch like that and now he thought he'dhurt her. He had made her feel better than she had in long time and he thought he'd hurt her. She lifted her head, a sad look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, G're'e'cha. I- I can't do this, not now. I do like you and I want…But I can't." By the time she'd finished, her eyes were downcast again.

G're'e'cha resettled himself beside her and wrapped his arms around her protectively. This time she didn't flinch.

Veriea learned her head back to rest on his shoulder, her eyes closed. She couldn't believe how accepting he was; no questions, no demands, no going of in a huff or trying to coerce her. He had every right to be angry – she had just pushed him away in the middle of something getting very personal, not to mention physical – but he was just being supportive, realizing, she supposed, that she had issues to deal with and lending a shoulder to lean on, literally as well as figuratively. He really wasn't the typical yautja male and she knew just how damn lucky she was to have him, as her friend and as her potential – hopeful – something more.

When Veriea felt the first rays of sunlight on her face she shifted, still shivering, not from cold – the day had already begun to swelter – but from the tension in her muscles refusing to recede.

"Are you alright Ver'ei'a?" G're'e'cha asked, nudging her head with his own.

"No." She admitted. "But I will be. I have to-" The tension in her body redoubled then. "I have to go." She tried to stand but G're'e'cha tightened his grip.

"No. You've already been up half the night. Go back to The Cn'tlip, get some sleep."

"To have more nightmares? I don't think so." She slipped under his hold and stood but he grabbed her wrist.

"I'll sit with you then. I promise I won't fall asleep. You need the rest Ver'ei'a." His voice was almost pleading but she knew that sleep right now was not what she needed. If she went to sleep now…she dreaded what she might see; what she might have to relive.

"Don't hold me back, G're'e'cha." She said softly. "You know me far less than you think you do. I know what I'm doing…and you have my Promise."

His grip loosened in surprise at that and she took the opportunity to slip out if it. He didn't call after her as she walked away.

(-_-)

Veriea hunted and killed far more viciously than she had ever thought herself capable of.

She was channeling all her anger and frustration into her actions and that was far from good for her prey.

How dare He ruin that moment for her. He was gone, in her past and yet He still managed to affect her life.

It's because He's still with me, she thought, In my memories and in my nightmares.

She slashed through her current prey's belly, spilling its intestines before it, imagining His face, that it was His innards she was spilling, as he watched, helpless. Scavengers and predators alike were following in her wake, attracted by the smell of the blood and gore and by the noise, fighting over the carcasses and dragging them off into hiding, though there were plenty for the taking.

She wasn't taking any care to be quiet as she thrashed through the vegetation, cutting down anything she couldn't simply push aside and paying no attention to the injuries she was sustaining, minor or not. She welcomed the pain, her own and that she sensed from her prey, the fighting creatures around her. The physical pain was easier to deal with and it helped drown out the emotional ache that was growing in her chest.

Dammit! Couldn't she ever just have want she wanted out of life? She didn't ask for much.

She punched the nearest tree in a rage, screaming her anger.

A flash of pain lanced up her arm.

That felt good, dulled the burn of the volcano building in her heart.

She did it again, splitting open the skin on her knuckles.

She kept punching the tree until she couldn't feel her hand anymore and she had left several indentations in the rough bark. Breathing hard, she leaned against the tree, heedless of the bloody pulp she was smearing across her brow or the blood trickling down her body, dripping from her abused hand. She flicked out her ki'cti-pa and began slashing the tree but quickly stopped.

That didn't help the pain, only fueled the burn.

She slashed at a clear spot on her arm. That worked. She healed the cut and then reopened it. And did it again. She knew it would make a scar, she was cutting too deep, but the rush of adrenaline each reopening and healing brought, the sense of control, the pain, helped her to forget what utterly helpless prey she was to her own subconscious mind, her memories.

This she could control, her physical body, force it to damage and fix itself in a never ending circle.

But you can't control it all, can you? Her mind taunted her.

She slashed deeper, hissing in pain.

No.

She couldn't.

That's why she couldn't get close without seeing Him, without being reminded of the reasons why she shouldn't; couldn't.

She considered, not for the first time, of cutting that deeply, just a different location, not healing it, ending it but she wouldn't do that. No, then He would win. She wouldn't let Him win. She would not give in.

She realized then that her magic had reached its limit and she could no longer heal, for a while at least. How long had she been doing this? How many times had she cut herself to have exhausted her deep well of magic with the healing of such a small, minor injury? The boys would think nothing of the wound though, just another mark of the hunt; just another scar.

Exhausted, she returned to The Cn'tlip.

Night was falling once more.

The air lock opened and she saw her boys lounging around the bridge, still in their armor, cleaning trophies, obviously having had a good day's hunting.

"Hey, Ver'ei'a, where've you-" She walked past them, ignoring S'ak'e'cha's warm greeting. "-Been?" He finished, his brow furring in confusion as he watched her retreating back. "What's up with her?"

In her room Veriea mechanically went through the motions of cleaning her armor before stepping into the shower. She hadn't realized just how much blood she'd been covered in, a disturbing amount of it her own.

It had been years since she last self-inflicted, mostly because He had stopped her from getting her hands on anything she could use to do it; He couldn't have His prized pet kill herself, not that it stopped her from trying, even when He had gone so far as to blunt her claws and teeth to keep her from turning them on herself.

She turned the hot water on full blast and started her grisly task of sloughing off the caked layers of gore; for half an hour the water was sickening shades of green, purple and pink as in ran down the drain to be cleaned and recycled. Once she was finally clean, she moderated the temperature to something more comfortable and just let the spray wash over her.

She couldn't start self-inflicting again.

There was no one to bring her back if she managed to go too far and she shouldn't be doing it, just as a general rule. Things were better now. She was happy, for the most part.

And there was G're'e'cha.

Thinking about him was enough to put a smile on her face. No, she wouldn't self-inflict again, not because she could go too far, or because He might win. She wouldn't because she had G're'e'cha.

She turned off the water, dried herself off and flopped into her bed, dragging up the covers.

(o_o,)

Sometime later that night, after the others had gone to sleep, G're'e'cha knocked on Veriea's door. Getting no answer he knocked again and the door slid open; it hadn't been locked.

Veriea was tossing and turning on the bed, looking as though she were trying to fight something off, small noises of distress escaping her. He crossed the room quickly, taking her hand in his and lifting her up so that she was nestled in his lap as he sat on the bed. He brushed an errant dreadlock out of her face and after a minute or so she calmed, though a look of fear stayed etched on her features.

What was done to you, Ver'ei'a? He thought and then a growl rumbled from deep in his chest. And who did it to you?

These nightmares were hitting her hard but what worried him most was what was causing the nightmares; she'd said enough for him to figure out that it was to do with her past, before she had run into their Chiva hunting party. S'ak'e'cha had also said something about her desperately calling out for someone named 'Silvashadow' once. Was that the name of a past mate? And where was he now if he wasn't taking care of her?

G're'e'cha felt the anger rising in him. What pathetic excuse for a male would let her go off into a situation like they had found her in? He found himself dearly wishing this Silvashadow to be dead. How could they possibly leave her to be tormented as she obviously had been? All of them were fond of Veriea and didn't like to see her in pain – as testified by his and her brother's threats of what they would do to him if he hurt her – but it hurt him to see her hurting.

His thoughts turned to her Promise.

He wondered who had told her about Promises. Giving him her Promise meant that she would not consider another mate for the next 4 rotations, or until she either accepted or refused his offer. Knowing her like he did, she would not have been considering mates anyway but it was a security none the less and it did give her a viable excuse to turn prowling males away rather than what she had done last time; he still smiled at the memory, the looks on his friend and brother's faces and probably even his own when they had seen those two strips of material tied around her ki'its-pa. That had been about the time he started to realize how much he hated the idea of seeing her with someone else.

The Promise was an old custom that few practiced anymore but it did, more or less, give him permission to prove he could be a good Life Mate, a courting period really and he was going to show her just how good he would be. There wasn't anything he could really do to relieve her of her nightmares and it frustrated the hell out of him.

But he could sit with her.

He would be there for her.

True to his word, he didn't fall a sleep but before she stirred in the morning he was gone, leaving only a faintly warm space as any indication he'd been there. He was going to need to take things slow with her. If her reaction the previous morning was any indication, she was willing but he would have to be careful about how he courted her; normal tactics would not help him here. Security and protection was what she needed most right now.

End- Ch 10

A/N: Awwww, poor G're'e'cha and Veriea. I know, I'm evil, but this is all part of the plot. There were lots a clues in this chapter by the way. Hope you enjoyed it and I just want to give a mention to the AvP story Outsider by miikaawaadizi It's a really good story so please check it out and leave a review. I won't mind if you leave me reviews either…. ;P