"You never thought to tell me that when a wolf died I would be the one taking their place!" screamed Leta, bursting through the door and slamming Canna against the wall. Her fists wound into the fabric of her mothers collar, pinning her there. Angry tears were welling in her eyes.

"What?" Canna demanded, wincing.

Leta gave a bitter laugh, the first tear sliding down her cheek. "You always keep me in the dark," she muttered, her lips curling her eyes rolling.

Canna looked shocked. "I was only trying to protect you, Leta. Because I love you."

Leta pulled her away from the wall and shoved her up against it again so Canna's head smacked it with a sickening thud, but Leta didn't care.

"Do not tell me you did it to protect me! You have always kept me in the dark, every since I was a child! Well, I am not a child anymore, Mother! I deserved to know this!"

She let go of Canna and marched across the room, tugging the purple vervain blossoms from her hair and flinging them down. Her plait was slowly coming undone, golden strands of hair sticking out of it at all angles.

When Leta had heard the news from Myron she hadn't paused to think, she hadn't asked him again, she had simply taken off running. The others had shouted for her, she was sure Kol or Niklaus had even given chase, but someone-she suspected Mikael-had forced them to stop.

She hadn't thought about what she would say to her mother, or about her dead friend, or about anything but how angry and afraid she was right at that moment. It was what fuelled her, drove her to be as she was.

Leta was facing away from Canna, her chest heaving with rage. Her shoulders rose and fell rapidly.

A hand touched her upper arm softly, feather light and leathery feeling. "I was only thinking of you, Leta," Canna murmured, her mouth dangerously near Leta's ear.

That was what pushed Leta over the edge, made her whirl around, striking out. Her hand made contact with Canna's face and she stumbled back, one hand to her cheek. Canna's eyes met Leta's and she burst into tears.

"Do not cry and snivel before me!" Leta yelled, spit flying from her mouth as she advanced on Canna. "I had a right to know these things! It is my heritage and you should not have kept something like this to yourself!" She raised her hand to strike again, bringing it down with such force it was a wonder she didn't make contact.

Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist, yanking her back. Arms snaked round her waist, holding her to someones chest, though she kicked and struggled and screamed and cried. They never released her, but one single voice was there, telling her everything would be all right. It was a pity she didn't believe him. Not even her best friend could console her now. It felt like the world was truly coming apart around her ears that day. It wasn't possible for her to mend after this.

Eventually she became exhausted, her head hanging low, her chest rising and falling fast, her throat dry and her eyes sore from crying. She rested her head back against Niklaus' chest and sighed heavily. Her anger still burned, but now it no longer roared, instead sitting there like hot coals, able to burn you at a single touch, but would do no damage if sat near.

Canna stood in front of her, her arms crossed, her face a mask of cool fury. "That is precisely why I have never told you. because despite how sweet you may seem on the surface, Leta, you are a werewolf and with that comes a terrible rage. It can take over you, make you a monster, make you worse than Mikael."

That was what truly brought Leta back from the brink, made her eyes widen and her anger drain away. The blood left her cheeks, turning her a stark white as she started at her mother. Niklaus said nothing at all.

"I am nothing like him..."

"The werewolf in you says otherwise."

Let hung her head, ashamed of her actions. She would never admit it, but something in her mothers words was completely right.

"Nik, you can let me go now. I am okay," she assured him.

It was several seconds before he loosened his hold on her however, stepping back and watching her warily. Leta didn't look at him, her eyes never left her mothers face. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she swallowed.

"I can never forgive you for this. You lied to me like I was once again six years old. Do not expect me to come home tonight, Canna." Her voice was hollow, her eyes empty.

Canna said nothing in reply, but she nodded her head once before turning and leaving. The door slammed loudly behind her, echoing in the silence that was left in her wake.

Leta didn't speak either, picking up a bag from the floor and swiftly finding the things she would need. She had to get out of that room, that house that she could never call hers anymore. She would not become a werewolf, she would run, run as far and as fast as she could. Better spend her days like that than being a part of the pack.

"Leta, what are you doing?" Nik asked anxiously, trying to make her stop packing and look at him. But she just pulled away and grabbed her clothes from where she had left them when she had changed into her dress.

"Niklaus, turn around or get out," she snapped over her shoulder, beginning to pull the dress over her head.

She heard Nik 'oh' of surprise and assumed he had turned around as she had said. And she quickly stripped off and climbed into the clothes she felt comfortable in. When she was done she untied her hair and let it fall down over her shoulders and to her waist. It was crinkled from the plait and made her hair wavy, only enhancing the way she looked like a forest nymph.

"You can look now, Nik," Leta told him, her tone gentle.

By the time he had turned to face her again, she was already back to packing. She quickly wrapped bread and cheese and some other assorted food items up in a square of cloth, tying it up with a piece of string she had helped her mother weave from the stems of stinging nettles.

"Leta, what are you going to do?" Niklaus asked, more persistent than before.

Leta didn't stop as she answered, "I'm running, Nik. It is all I can do."

"No! Please, Leta, you cannot leave me! You cannot leave here. You are my best friend-"

Leta paused, looking up into his face and cupping it in her hands. "And I yours, Nik," she whispered, letting go.

"Then why not stay and face what you are! There is no use in running because in time everything will only catch up to you and then you will have wasted your life!" Niklaus reasoned, moving closer to her and gesturing with his hands.

Leta ignored him as she rammed clothes into her satchel and then tied it closed. She slung her bow and arrow across her back and then picked up two thick blankets from the foot of her bed, making sure to tie them tightly to her pack. Then she put that on her back and slipped the small dagger she had taken from her father so long ago into its sheath, strapping it around her waist. The she finally turned and looked at Niklaus.

"I am sorry, Nik, but I will not become one of them," she told him firmly. "Now please let me leave. I do not wish to part with you on bad terms."

She kissed him on the cheek and slipped past him, putting her hand on the doorknob and turning it. Cold air whooshed inside, sending goosebumps erupting over her skin.

"Please, Leta... Do not leave me..." Niklaus begged, a tear slipping down his cheek. His dark blue eyes were shining.

Leta sniffed and shook her head, her hair blowing in the wind. "Tell the others I am sorry." She closed her eyes and then opened them again. "Tell Kol that I am sorry..."

And before Niklaus could do or say anything more, she had closed the door behind her and begun to run into the forest. The cold bit at her exposed skin, freezing the tips of her ears and nose.

The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, so the warmth that it had brought was now completely gone. As soon as she reached the spot, she dropped to her knees and crawled along on her knees. Twigs snagged at her hair as Leta pushed her way through the undergrowth, brambles scratching her face and arms until she reached the other side. She straightened up and began to run again.

Leta knew that if she continued heading that way she would eventually find the ocean, and from there she was sure she could find a way to sail to some far off distant land where no one would ever know who she was. That was a good plan, wasn't it?

It was getting hard to see now, so Leta had to concentrate on what was in her path, avoiding trees and branches. But her muscles were aching and she was beginning to down. Almost walking.

"Where are you going, Miss Mitchell?"

Leta jumped and stumbled away, tripping over a root and sprawling on her back, the satchel making it painfully uncomfortable.

Myron stepped forwards and extended one, long fingered hand to her. A grin stretched across his lips, his teeth practically shining in the darkness.

"Do you need a hand in running away?" he asked.

And those words were enough to scare Leta more than Mikael scared Niklaus.