I paced the length of my office angrily as I occasionally looked over at Titus. He followed my movements with his head but kept his eyes appropriately downcast.

"I told you not to investigate them," I growled at him.

"I beg your pardon, Lexa," he said. "You told me not to go on their property. I did not do that."

"Seriously," I said. "Do I really need to spell it out for you that much. The implication was clear, do not under any circumstances go near them, approach them, or anything else involving them. Is that clear enough for you?"

He nodded, "Perfectly."

"Good," I replied.

"Would you like to know what I learned," he asked, nonchalantly.

I sighed in frustration and let out a low growl, "You might as well."

Again, he nodded, "Let me be clear about something first, Lexa. Whoever that woman is, wherever she came from, she is dangerous. She and her friends are a threat to our Pack. They must be removed by any means necessary."

"How are they a threat to the pack, Titus," I growled. "They have kept to themselves this entire time! They do not cross our border. They have done nothing that warrants your hostility. It is almost winter, Titus. That is why there's been less wildlife around. Not to mention that there has been construction going on for the last month or so."

"There is a darkness that hovers over that woman," he said, trying to pin me with a steely gaze. "If she is left unchecked, she will poison this area. If you do nothing, you are putting the lives of the pack at risk. I will not stand by idly and watch this pack suffer because you cannot see the truth about this woman."

I scoffed, "Titus, there is no darkness hovering over her. She is only recovering from an injury. An injury that may have very well caused her to leave her pack. It is not pack policy to investigate every werewolf that we come across or moves near our territory."

"Lexa, listen to me. No good will ever come from that woman. When I came across her in Eden, she was climbing down from a fire escape of a building that gives a perfect view of both the Town Hall and park. She had a camera on her person and it appeared that she had been taking photos of the town itself. There is no good reason for her to take photographs of the town, none."

"Seriously?! Eden is our sister town, Titus. Just as ours is rather picturesque in fall, so is Eden. Why wouldn't she want to take photographs of it? You are grasping at straws."

He nodded, "I concede that point, but I do not trust your judgement."

"Duly noted," I replied sourly. "Was this all that you discovered?"

"No. I followed her into Rosie's Diner and tried to start a conversation with her, but she remained steadfastly opposed to it. It appeared that she took an instant disliking to me even though I was at my politest. I tried to speak with her again outside of the diner, but she was hostile. Lexa, she's an Alpha."

I looked at him sharply, "An Alpha? Are you sure?"

He replied, "Absolutely. She's an Alpha and that makes her dangerous. Even her appearance made me think so."

"Her appearance?"

"Both sides of her head were shaved, the right side showing scars. It was also the way she carried herself."

"She a fucking Alpha," I replied. "Of course, she's going to carry herself a certain way. Her clothing style is of no consequence and has no bearing to whether she is dangerous or not. This is ridiculous and you are looking for something that is not there. If I hear that you are continuing this witch hunt, you will be missing a head. Do I make myself clear?"

He paled at the death threat and he swallowed as he replied, "Crystal."

"Now get out of my face," I said and watched him nod his head and walk out of my office.

Growling, I walked over to the painting and stared at it. I felt the anger leave as I looked at it. I found myself smiling and appreciated the comfort it always seemed to give me. With a sudden decision, I sat at my desk and wrote Griffin a brief email, letting her know about the anger I had just felt and that her painting had a positive effect in calming me down. I don't know why I did that, but it felt good putting that in words and telling her.

It was after lunch when I checked my emails again. Once more, she had written me back. She told me that she was glad that the painting helped, but she wished that her paintings had the same effect on her. She opened up more and said that now, when she looked at her paintings, she only felt remorse that she may never be able to paint the same way again. That saddened me greatly. Whatever had happened to her had affected her deeply. Deeply enough that she was clearly traumatized by it.

I didn't know what to say about that, but I knew that if I said sorry, she would feel that it was an automatic response. Something people said with out really meaning it. So, I wrote her back and told her the truth. That I wished that I could understand what she had gone through and that I was saddened that it had affected her in such a way. I wanted to tell her that it would all be okay eventually, but I didn't think she needed to hear that right now. I hoped she had friends or family that could help her work through it. I voiced that hope and sent it on its way.

I knew how important it was to have people be there for you. If I didn't have Anya or Lincoln, I didn't think I could have made it past my challenge for pack Alpha or made it through the first couple of years getting familiar with the responsibilities that being pack Alpha entailed.

I sighed and got back to work. At the end of the work day, I checked on my email again. Again, she had written me back and what she wrote broke my heart. She told me that she didn't have any family. No father, no mother, no siblings, no extended family members. She did tell me that she had friends she considered family and that they were trying to help and support her through it. Then she wrote something that blew my mind. She told me that she was glad that she had personally written to me and that it was nice to have someone to talk to that wasn't so close to the situation. She also told me that she felt that I was someone who was easy to talk to and that she hoped that she could continue to talk to her on a more personal level.

I sat back stunned at the implication. We had barely corresponded and yet she felt comfortable enough with me that she felt that she could write more openly with me. I had felt the same way, somewhat, and was pleasantly surprised by her admittance. I quickly wrote her back and told her that I would like that and that I felt the same way.

I stopped by the bar on my way home and made it to my booth. My mind focused on what could have happened to her. It must have been something big and thought that maybe it's what caused her to lose her family. I was definitely saddened that she may never feel that happiness, that joy and love that showed throughout her art, again. I hoped that her friends would be able to turn her back to that happiness and that she could paint again. But knowing trauma, it might take her years to pick up a brush again. That saddened me even more. I could tell that she loved to paint. It was evident in every brushstroke.

I stopped drinking after only three beers before I headed home. I knew that it was going to be a long night for me as her words echoed in my mind. I really hoped that I might provide something that could help her. I wanted to see that golden wolf again, because I knew without a doubt that it was her.