The rest of the night had been blissfully uneventful and I headed downstairs in a good mood. I thought that I'd go and take some photos of the town. It was picturesque and quaint and I thought that I might get some good paintings out of it. Maybe start a different type of series.

"I didn't hear you scream last night," Nate said with a smile and handed me a cup of coffee.

I nodded in thanks and replied, "I still had a nightmare though. I thought I'd head back into town and take some photographs of it."

He tilted his head to the side as he studied me and nodding, said, "Thinking about painting it?"

"Yeah, it might get me to take my mind away from that fucking mill pond," I replied. "It's bad enough that I paint myself, but to add that place subconsciously is a very terrible idea."

"So, you're saying that you have no way to really control it?"

I shook my head, "I don't think so. I mean, I haven't tried sketching since yesterday when I tried two times to sketch the view from my window."

"Why don't you try again," he said, thoughtfully. "Try a different view."

I sighed and got up, "I'll give it a whirl. Won't hurt. I'll be back."

I went back upstairs and got my sketch pad. I went to the back deck and sitting down, I studied the back for a little bit and then put pencil to paper and started drawing. When I felt that I was done, I looked at the sketch and there in the freaking middle was the damn mill and pond.

"Fuck," I yelled and stared daggers at the sketch.

Nate came out and asked, "It showed up?"

I held up the pad and he took it from my hand, "Yep."

"You added something else, Clarke," he said as he came around and sat in the chair next to me.

I sat up straight and looking at him, I said, "I did?!"

"Yeah," he replied, leaned over and with the pad in his hand, pointed to a spot below and to the left of the pond.

I took it out of his hand and brought it closer to my eyes and with a trembling voice, "Wells' car."

I scanned to the right and saw nothing new. I leaned back and closed my eyes as I contemplated what this could all mean.

"I think I'm starting to remember, Nate," I said, my eyes still shut. "After all this time, I'm starting to remember."

"Isn't that a good thing," he asked.

"I don't know," I whispered and then louder, "If I remember, that means that I might be able to work through the trauma better, but it also might mean that my nightmares are about to get worse. I really need to find someone to talk me through this."

"Yeah, you really do," he said with conviction. "You don't want to open yourself to having a nervous breakdown. If you do, that would mean a hospital stay and that is definitely not something you want to happen. Not here."

"Yeah, that's all I need. I really don't want the possibility of shifting spontaneously during an episode," I said and got up. "I need to find the tablet and start searching."

With that, I headed inside and found it on the charger in the dining room. I sat glumly and looked up psychiatrists in the area. I found a link for a list of psychiatrists and when I clicked on it, I filtered the list, looking for ones that specifically dealt with trauma. I found some that looked promising and went and got my phone. I started calling them immediately and on the fifth call, found someone that was taking on new patients. Luckily, they had an opening two weeks away. I scheduled it and put the appointment on the tablet and then on my phone after I hung up.

This was new ground for me and I was worried that they might suggest regression therapy. If that happened, I might accidentally let something slip and that would probably cause me to be hospitalized thinking that I had some kind of mental disorder. And that would be a very bad thing. I sighed and opened up my email. I was a little disappointed when I saw that I didn't have an email from the woman. There was an email from Rachel inquiring about my recovery and when I thought I might start painting again. I replied to it and exited out of my email server.

I stared gloomily into space and couldn't dredge up the energy to move and do what I had planned to do. Eventually, Nate came back inside and laid my pad next to me. I looked at the sketch again and growled in disgust. I already hated the fact that it was starting to invade my everyday life. Looking at the pond, I was worried that it would keep me away from doing what I loved. Painting was my life. Had been ever since I decorated my bedroom walls with crayon. It was my escape from dealing with the fact that I would be forced out of town. Then it became a way to deal with my grief over Jaha killing my father in a challenge. Then having to deal with Wells. It was a coping mechanism for me and allowed me to focus on all the good in my life. Now, I couldn't even do that.

I shoved the pad away from me violently and it skidded across the table and landed on the floor with a flutter of paper and a thunk. I got up and took another long shower. With a renewed determination to get myself out of this funk, I dug through my things and found my camera. Then I had to look for fresh batteries. When that was complete, I let everyone know where I was going and soon found my way to town.

Before I pulled into town, I found a great view that allowed me to take a photo of the town itself. Then I got back in and parked by the restaurant with the feeling that it was probably going to be my favorite restaurant. Walking down Main Street, I took photo after photo. When I neared the park, I looked around for someplace to climb and found a fire escape on the side of a building that would give me a good view. I easily climbed up it and stood on the roof. I found the angle I wanted and snapped photos of the park. Climbing down, I suddenly felt eyes on me. This time though, I got a bad feeling. I glanced around and saw nothing. Not yet, anyways. I resolutely crossed the street and walking into the park, started snapping more photos. I made sure that I took photos of the statues, the bandstand, and some of the people playing or lounging around. I wanted to make sure I captured people enjoying the place among fallen autumn leaves.

I felt the eyes on me again and I whipped around. I found a Sheriff's vehicle nearby and when I zoomed in on the writing on the side, noticed that it wasn't the town's Sheriff department. I snapped a photo of the vehicle before it took off, having discovered that I was looking at it. Narrowing my eyes, I looked down at the viewfinder and didn't recognize the name of the town. The town had to be close if he was following me. Frowning, I made my way back to the restaurant.

Walking into the restaurant, I felt a sudden sense of relief. Whatever that driver wanted from me, he wouldn't dare do it inside a public space which made me feel better. I made my way to the counter and sat down, pulling a menu from between the ketchup bottle and sugar. I opened it up and looked at the appetizers, not really feeling for a big meal at the moment.

"Can I get you anything, darlin'," a voice asked me and I looked up and saw the waitress that had served us last night.

I smiled up at her and replied, "Some coffee for right now, thank you."

She leaned over, placing her hands on the counter and said, "I wanted to thank you for the tip you gave me last night. That was real nice of ya."

Still smiling, I replied, "Your welcome, but it was well deserved. The food was fantastic and you treated us real nice last night. Being new here, we weren't really expecting such a warm welcome. So, thank you for that."

She smiled wide, which made her face brighten prettily, and said, "You'll find folks here are pretty friendly, Miss. My name is Janice and on behalf of Eden, welcome."

I held out my hand to shake and replied, "Clarke."

She shook my hand and winced a little. I looked up at her in question as our hands left each other.

"Are you alright, miss," she asked, concern etched on her face. "Your hand's awfully warm."

I blushed slightly and replied, "I'm fine. I just run hot. Been that way for all my life."

She nodded, but the concern wasn't completely gone from her face, "I'll just go get you that coffee, then. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you, Janice," I replied and she walked away to get my coffee.

I turned my attention back to the menu as I continued contemplating what I wanted to eat. She came back and laid my coffee near me, I smiled up at her in thanks and I could have sworn she blushed just slightly. I shook my head, still smiling and I still couldn't make up my mind between an appetizer or dessert. I sighed and laid the menu down when I couldn't decide. I pulled the coffee towards me and poured a couple of spoonfuls sugar in it. I stirred it and took a sip. My eyes widened in surprise that even their coffee was good. Way better than the kind we had up at the house. I sat there drinking my coffee slowly, savoring it, and stared off into nothingness. I let my mind and body relax as the coffee warmed me on the inside.

She came back and refilled my cup for me, watching me with curiosity.

I looked up at her and quirking an eyebrow in question, asked, "You okay?"

Startled, the blush crept up again and she coughed before she replied, "Yes, ma'am. I was just curious to know if you're a photographer with that fancy camera there?"

I looked down at the camera and back to her, smiling I said, "Not really. I'm a painter and because I can't always get to a location, I take photographs or sketches to help me."

"You're a painter," she asked, leaning down and looking at me with obvious interest.

I felt my own blush creep and smiling, I replied, "Yeah. I paint mainly landscapes of the valley and mountains here."

"So, you're native?"

"Yeah, I grew up about four hours southwest of here, on the other side of Blacksburg," I told her, but immediately wished I hadn't.

She noticed the shift in my mood and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head to dispel the feeling of regret and anger, looking up at her and smiling again, said, "That's alright, Janice. I just didn't leave on good terms."

She nodded, "I understand. I'll just let you get back to your coffee, hmm?"

"Thank you," I replied and with a nod from her, she left to take care of the other customers.

I resolutely let go of the feelings our simple conversation had given way to and took a sip of my coffee. Suddenly, I tensed as I felt those eyes on me and it still gave me a bad feeling. I felt my hackles raise as I heard the bell chime over the door. I held myself back from looking to see who had just came in, but I couldn't help the real low growl from escaping my mouth. I felt someone sit down at the counter a few seats away from me and with a sidelong glance, I made out a Sheriff's uniform. I turned my eyes straight, my body tenser as I fought the urge to get up and leave. Instead, I took a few calming deep breaths and forced my body to relax. Whoever this person was, I was determined not to give them the satisfaction of riling me up. I saw Janice, out of the corner of my eye, come up to them and pour a cup of coffee. She chanced a glance my way, but didn't come over.

"What brings you over here, Sheriff Green," Janice asked, lightly polite.

"Oh," I heard him reply, "I'm just seeing how your Sheriff is doing on this side of the mountain. Been some strange winds blowing through our side."

I stiffened at that comment and took a chance to subtly inhale, allowing my wolf sense to rise slightly. I caught his scent, the smell of the forest in the dead of winter and decaying flesh, a werewolf, which meant that he came from the pack territory. There was only one reason why he would be here, us. I didn't understand why he would be interested in us. We stayed on our side of the boundary every time we went out and honestly, we didn't stray far from the house except when we came to town. I listened to them conversing with half an ear, but it was basic small talk. I sighed and drank the rest of the coffee, not really tasting it this time. My shoulder started aching from the tension and I rubbed it, trying to soothe the ache away. I was also starting to get a headache and I knew it would turn into a migraine. I needed to get out of here.

I looked over at them and said politely, "Excuse me, Janice, can I get a coffee to go? I need to be heading back."

"Oh, of course," she said. "Let me just get that for you."

"Thank you."

The Sheriff turned his attention to me and I stared him right in the eyes, which seemed to set him back a bit.

"You're new here, aren't you," he asked, feigning innocent curiosity, but it fell flat.

"I am," I replied, coolly.

"How are you liking it here?"

"We're liking it just fine, Sheriff."

"We?"

"My friends and I."

"Oh, may I ask what prompted you to move here?"

"No, you may not, Sheriff," I replied, my voice turning cold. "Our lives are private and we'd like to keep it that way."

He narrowed his eyes at my tone, but before he could say anything more, Janice appeared with a large to go cup and handed it to me.

I smiled up at her and said, "Thanks. How much do I owe you?"

She blushed and replied, "Don't worry about it, hon. It's on the house."

"Oh, I really couldn't ask that of you," I replied, slightly shocked.

She leaned closer to me and I could smell her perfume wafting over me. It smelled like vanilla and honeysuckle. A rather pleasant smell and I couldn't help but inhale it a little more deeply.

She smiled, "I insist, Clarke. Think of it as a welcoming gift from yours truly."

I smiled back at her and said softly, "If you insist, than I accept. But next time, I am paying."

She chuckled and replied, "Then that's fine by me. I'll be seeing you, Clarke."

She leaned back upright as I stood up. I gave her a warm smile and it widened when I saw the blush creep up her neck again. With a nod, I walked out the door, coffee in hand, and made my way to my truck. I'd gone halfway when I felt his eyes on me again. I whirled around angrily and waited for him.

"Sheriff, is there a reason you feel the need to follow me," I asked with barely contained anger.

He stopped a few feet in front of me and I saw the flicker of fear in his eyes before he became a mask of calm.

He cleared his throat and replied, "You're hiding something. You and your friends. I intend to find out what it is."

I stepped closer to him, my hands dropping to my side and growled out, "We are hiding nothing, Sheriff. And if I find out that you or your people are following us or harassing us in any way after this conversation, me and your Alpha will have words. Do I make myself understood, Sheriff?"

His lip curled back in a snarl and I took one step menacingly forward. I smirked as he dropped the snarl and took a step back.

I abruptly turned away and walked to my truck. I climbed in and turning the ignition, it roared to life. I revved it a little, before I pulled out of the parking lot. I glanced in my rearview and watched as he slowly faded from view. I growled in frustration, but I let it go. There was nothing I could do at the moment. So far, there was no real cause to even approach their Alpha and I wanted to keep it that way. I took a large swallow of the coffee and was surprised to find sugar already stirred in it. I smiled at Janice's thoughtfulness and took a moment to remember how her curves filled out her uniform. If the signals that I had briefly gotten from her were right, I just might have to find an excuse to eat at the restaurant more frequently.

The house loomed ahead and I felt the tension roll from my body. Walking through the front door, I was greeted by three very stunned and worried faces.

Bellamy came up to me and said, "I was just about to call you. Where've you been all day?"

"I've been in town, like I said I was, taking photos," I replied, and showing him the camera. "Then I stopped by the restaurant and got some coffee."

He gave me a quick hug and tugged me towards the kitchen. I looked at the three of them and there seemed to be an undercurrent of worry.

"What happened," I asked, sitting in a bar stool.

Instead of answering, Nate pulled out an envelope from underneath the counter and handed it to me. A familiar scent wafted up to me and I inhaled deeper. It was the scent of the the pack Sheriff. I growled and tore the envelope open. There was a single sheet of paper with one word printed on it, "Leave," in big bold letters.

"That asshole," I said, still growling. "It's the fucking sheriff from the pack. He followed me around town today and then confronted me outside the restaurant."

"Should we be worried," Octavia asked worriedly.

I shook my head and replied, "No. I don't think he'll try anything again. He seemed surprised that I'm an Alpha. I also think he didn't have permission to investigate us. We've given their Alpha no reason to be worried about us. We stay on our side of the border, no exceptions."

They all nodded in agreement and silence descended over us. I rubbed my temples, the migraine that I'd been holding up was finally starting to emerge.

"I'm heading upstairs," I told them. "I can feel a migraine coming on. I'll see you all in the morning."

"Are you going to be alright," Bellamy asked, worry etched in his face.

I smiled wanly at him and replied, "Hot shower and medicine will do me just fine, Bell. But thank you for your concern."

I hugged everyone goodnight and headed up to my room. I took a very long, very hot shower as I let the water pressure pound away at tense muscles. When I felt more relaxed, I got out and taking my pain meds, I crawled into bed and fell asleep as they kicked in.