Tibet. What was Malkoran doing in Tibet, of all places? According to Hannibal, their Alpha lived in a temple nestled somewhere in the Kunlun mountain range. Talk about easy access. Ellessin had had to fly to the cursed mountains where he currently resided.

A temple. Honestly.

In any case, it was no wonder that Mal couldn't be reached by common means of communication. There was no signal here. Most likely, there was no electricity or running water, either. Obviously, Malkoran was stuck in the past and refused to move forward into the modern world.

Ellessin landed at the base of a long, windy staircase. The climb would hopefully give her some time to settle her nerves. She felt jittery, like a mortal of this age with too much caffeine in their system.

The very thought of Malkoran, or anything even vaguely pertaining to him, usually caused her to fly into a mindless rage, even after all these years without actually seeing him. Now that she was about to meet with him, though, she felt more nervous than angry. And that made her feel frustrated and annoyed with herself. She wasn't a schoolgirl with a frivolous crush; she was a broken-hearted mother lusting for revenge. She ought to behave as one.

Maybe she should have had some coffee. Unlike her children, Ellessin was able to ingest both liquid and solid food, though she had no need for either, and rarely had a craving for it. Besides, caffeine had no effect on her, no more than alcoholic beverages or drugs did. Nothing could soothe her.

Was she at the top of the stairs already? Dear gods.

She paused for a moment. Good thing she didn't have a functioning heart, because it would have been pounding. If she'd been human at all, she would have felt light-headed.

Get a grip, you silly, overdramatic crone, Elle berated herself. She started moving again, with determination and purpose.

She walked across a cultivated little garden near the entrance of the monastery and she was about to barge through the front gate when someone called her name.

"Elle?" It was a soft, accented voice. A voice she hadn't heard in ages. Literal ages.

Lilith help me. He's really here.

Ellessin took a deep breath and composed herself before turning to face him. Remember the purpose of your visit. This is not about past betrayals. Don't let him get under your skin.

Malkoran had a rusty watering can at his feet, a gardening tool in one hand, and seemed to be tending to the vegetable patch. Gods, this was ridiculous. He was dressed like a damned monk, with faded yellow robes and a maroon hood, which he slowly pushed back.

His head was shaved bald and his once scruffy beard was gone. Apart from that, he was still the same man Elle had known from early adulthood, tall and lean and beautiful. His face still bore the marks of their last encounter, his left cheek badly scarred where Elle had raked her long nails. His sparkling honey-coloured eyes reflected his puzzlement.

Hannibal clearly hadn't warned him of her impromptu visit, though he'd promised he would. That didn't bode well.

"Malkoran," Elle replied casually, as if their last meeting had not taken place millennia ago, and had not ended with her almost tearing him apart.

"You look ravishing." His breath hitched in his throat as he spoke.

Curse the bloody man! Elle had been here less than a minute and already she felt like strangling him. She smoothed her dress to give herself time to control her emotions. She'd unconsciously picked a white garment, she noticed at that moment. His favourite colour. The thought certainly did nothing to help suppress her emotions.

"I will not ask how you found me," Malkoran went on, discarding his gardening implements and taking a few cautious steps in her direction. "I am sure that Hannibal had his reasons. Not that I was hiding from you-"

"You don't know, do you?" Ellessin thundered. Apparently, Hannibal hadn't told him anything. Mal stopped dead in his tracks and recoiled slightly at her vehemence. "Your demented cub killed my daughter!" Well, at least she wasn't anxious any longer. She shook with fury instead. This was all Malkoran's fault. If he'd been around, if he'd taken his responsibilities, if he'd cared, even a little, none of this would have happened. He was still the same selfish bastard he'd always been.

"Elle, I am sorry, but I have not the faintest idea what you are talking about."

"That fucking Greyback freak murdered my child, my precious little girl. My Jeanne." Elle rarely swore, let alone aloud, but it was warranted, in this instance. Jeanne would have appreciated the sentiment, surely. "You useless sod. How could you let your cubs go astray so? I blame you, Mal. Greyback shouldn't even exist. He's a monster."

"Aren't we all?" he murmured fatalistically.

By Lilith, she was going to strangle him. "Mal," Elle said, clinging to the few meagre shreds of calm that remained to her, "you have no control over your spawns. They have run amok. You have to reassert your position. If you do not, I will have to retaliate. You would leave me no choice."

"Why have you not retaliated already?" he wondered. He sounded genuinely confused. "It is not like you. Why do you seek my permission?"

"Your permission?" Elle almost choked on the word. "I don't need your permission, you self-centred git! I am doing you a favour by coming here. This is a formal warning, and I must urge you to find the damned beast before he does any more damage."

Malkoran eyed her shrewdly. "Something is most certainly amiss. I could understand that you have trouble finding him, but you hardly need me for that, as you obviously have the help of my Wolves. Some of them, at least. And yet you would not bother to have a semblance of civil conversation with me unless you needed something from me." He cocked his head, as if hoping to solve a puzzle by looking at it from a different perspective. "Name it, Elle. If it is in my power, whatever it may be, I will give it to you."

"You fool," she said through clenched teeth. "You never listen. I have already told you what I want! Rein your cubs back, arrest Greyback, place him under our care and let us lock him up for good." She would have gladly ripped Greyback's corrupt heart out of his chest herself, but there was still Evangeline to consider. Ellessin had given the matter some serious thought before undertaking this journey to the far east – and to her long-buried past.

She had decided that Greyback should be kept in a highly-secure location, from which he could never escape, under the watchful eyes of her own people. That would have to be punishment enough, for the time being, and it would ensure Evangeline's safety besides, at least until the wizards figured out a way to…disconnect her from the Wolf.

After that, though, Greyback would be fair game. If not for Evangeline, Elle would have made minced meat out of him already. Well, she would have if she knew where the coward was holing up, anyway.

"I mean it, Mal," Elle went on. "Don't make me go after the others." She hated to say it, but the rest of the Wolves were expendable, as far as Ellessin was concerned, although she wouldn't kill anyone unless she was forced to do it. Her days of slaying people in cold-blood just for the sake of it were behind her.

Malkoran studied her for a long moment in silent contemplation. "So you would harm the others and risk an open war, but you will not harm Greyback," he said eventually. "What is so special about him?"

Elle was damned if she would tell him. She couldn't trust him with that knowledge. Gods, she couldn't trust him with anything, but she had no choice but to rely on him to locate Greyback's new lair. Hannibal and his cronies had made it clear that only their Alpha could make a decision regarding Greyback's fate. They would do nothing without Mal's consent, not after the Rasputin debacle. "There is nothing special about him," she rasped. "Malkoran, will you do this for me, or not? If you will not, let it be known that I will take matters into my own hands, and I promise you, you will not like the results." She hoped it would not come to that. Malkoran may not care, but his lieutenants did. If the Ancients started killing Wolves until Greyback surrendered, there would be war. There would be no avoiding it.

And yet it would be her only option, if Mal refused to take part. Ellessin could not simply forget – let alone forgive – what happened to Jeanne. She deserved justice for the death of her daughter.

Malkoran remained stubbornly silent. There wasn't much more Elle could do or say. If Mal did not feel bad at all for Jeanne's murder, if he did not feel responsible for it in any way, as Elle had hoped he would, there was nothing else she could do about it. She had no leverage, and Malkoran must have realised that, if his keen look was any indication. Though she could simply attack him, she supposed…

No. The idea was appealing, but it would not be helpful. Hurting him the first time had briefly appeased her temper, but horror at what she'd done had quickly replaced the grim satisfaction that the sight of his blood had brought.

Besides, there was a good chance that he was stronger than she was. Wolves were naturally stronger than Ancients, though the vampires were faster.

Coming here had been a serious mistake. Malkoran was a lost cause. There was nothing left of the man he used to be. Ellessin turned to leave and made her way toward the stairs. She would appeal to Hannibal and the others one last time, but if negotiations failed, the Ancients would have to find Greyback on their own, and they would have to do it the hard way – they needed to lure him out of his hideout, either by eliminating every single Wolf there was and hoping he would care or, as a last resort solution, by using Evangeline as a live bait.

Blackbeard would be the first to die. He was, after all, partly responsible for this whole mess. His unstable progeny had begotten an even more unstable Wolf. If not for him-

"If I find Greyback for you, will you put an end to it?" Mal whispered as Elle took a first step down the long flight of stairs. She hadn't realised that he'd followed her.

"An end to what?" she asked with a frown, facing him once more, hands on her hips.

"Why, an end to this curse, of course." His golden eyes didn't blink once as he spoke, staring at her with an intensity she remembered all too well.

"You want to summon them again? Ask them…what, to take your Wolfishness away? Are you out of your mind?" He couldn't be serious. Ellessin would sooner burn the whole world to the ground than summon Lilith again. The result might be the same, in any case.

Malkoran chuckled sadly. "Even now, death is not an alternative to you," he said. "No, my heart. I want you to kill me."

Mal could not stop staring at Elle in wonder. Each line of her beautiful face was etched upon his memory, each curve of her body, and yet to see her with his own two eyes…

Gods be praised, she truly was here. She remembered him. After all this time, Mal had assumed that Elle would have forgotten about him, dismissed him as one dismisses a former flame of little import, especially after what Mal had done.

But she was here, and she was clearly still furious with him. This was more than he could have hoped for.

Well, she had not come for him, not exactly. She was after Greyback.

Him again. Mal had heard that name many times over the last few months, too many times. He was beginning to regret leaving his cubs to fend for themselves but, truth be told, he had expected Ramesses, William and Hannibal to keep an eye on things for him. They were more capable and reliable than Malkoran was, more than he could ever hope to be. That was why he had chosen them in the first place; not to rival Ellessin's children, but to unburden him as much as possible. They had proved him right by handling the Goldeneyes situation, some decades ago, though Malkoran had no idea what they had done with him. His only command had been to let Grigori live, but he had not enquired about the details of the cub's forced exile.

If his trusted lieutenants could be believed, Greyback – once known as Damian Wilk, a complete nobody, as far as Mal knew – apparently refused to embrace his given alias, and chose instead to call himself…

No. Even in thought, Malkoran was reluctant to name him.

What was worse, Greyback, as all Wolves, was aware of their origin story. He should know better. It was a wonder that the demon had allowed the cub to "borrow" his name as long as he had. Greyback would be punished for his impudence, one way or another; if not in this life, then in the next one.

And if Greyback had truly taken an immortal life…if he'd killed one of Lilith's children… Yes, it was a wonder that he was still alive. The only explanation that made sense to Malkoran was that the demons could not meddle without first being summoned.

He would never put that theory to the test, though.

In any case, Ellessin had every right to be angry. She had always considered these…Ancients, as they now called themselves, like her own children – which they were, Mal supposed. The next thing to it, anyway.

Ellessin was glowering at him, her black eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?" She had obviously heard his words – despite the harsh mountain winds, her hearing was as sharp as his – but she could not fathom them.

I want you to kill me. Malkoran could not be any clearer than that.

"Over the years," he said softly, "I have appealed to some of your people to do me that one paltry favour. They all refused, even the Ripper, whose profession it is to kill men in exchange for money; even sweet, compassionate Gorgo, who claimed that you would never forgive her if she did this. I doubted her, but I see now that she was correct in assuming that."

His first thought had been that Elle would never forgive such an act because she wanted to kill Mal herself, some day, when she deemed that he had been punished long enough for his crime. Occasionally, though, he caught himself hoping that she would never forgive it because, deep down, she still cared for him.

It was a bit far-fetched, admittedly, but hope was the last, frayed thread that kept Malkoran tied to sanity.

Elle snorted in disdain. "Do you believe that they would dare keep this…request of yours a secret from me?"

Mal regarded her attentively. Her expression was well-guarded, her eyes like two onyx stones, but he knew her better than she thought. She was lying. He did not call her out on it, however. It would serve no purpose.

"They know very little of our history, and I intend to keep it that way," Elle added. She looked pensive all of a sudden, her ageless gaze lost in the past. "There's much I've forgotten, Malkoran. I don't remember my mother's face. My encounter with Lady Lilith is a blur, like a bad dream fading away as one awakes. But that day, what you did... It's so vivid in my memory, it could have happened yesterday. You destroyed me, Mal." That last part was a bare whisper, so low than even he had to strain his ears to catch it.

"Good," he murmured. "Then there is hope for me yet."

"Hope?!" Elle repeated incredulously.

"If it makes you this angry, even after all those years, it must mean that you still care for me," he explained matter-of-factly. It was not wishful thinking, was it? It was perfectly reasonable to assume-

"Care for you?" she scoffed. "You must have lost your mind. You think too highly of yourself, Mal. I have moved on. Believe me, I have. You are nothing to me. If not for my present…plight, I would have happily lived the rest of eternity without ever laying eyes on you again."

The words hurt, but he knew that she was only deluding herself. She was stubborn, his Elle, and prideful. She always had been. Malkoran decided to humour her. "Then I assume it will be no problem for you to accede to my...request. Provided that I find my undesirable offspring and hand him over to you unconditionally," he added quickly, before she erupted like the Vesuvius did, back in the day. "But I must warn you, Elle: I am not more likely to locate Greyback than you are. I cannot simply summon him to me, as you would your own children, and even if I somehow tracked him down, I have no power over him. Or over any of them, for that matter. That is not an exaggeration, my love." Her eyes flashed dangerously, but Malkoran ignored it. She was his love; she always had been, and always would be. "I truly do not. I am their Alpha no longer." He sighed regretfully. Truly, he wanted nothing more than to please her, to soothe her grief and pain in any way he could, but this was a lost cause. "Moreover, I do not know Greyback's scent, nor even what he looks like. I have never met him. He was turned well after I…retired."

"But your Wolves know him," Elle retorted sharply. "Go to them, you idiot. Reclaim your rightful place among them." She shook her head, her mass of raven curls rippling over her shoulders. It was odd to see her without her trademark braid – then again, perhaps it was her trademark no longer. Were braids still fashionable in this doomed era? "You used to be so resourceful, so full of energy. You used to be a leader of men, Mal. What happened to you, you apathetic oaf?"

"Fenrir happened," he replied quietly. A shiver ran down his back as he said the horror-inspiring name. At his naked feet, several plants withered and died. The demon may not be able to show himself in his true form without being properly summoned, but he could still influence the surface world somewhat.

His reply was not a lie, but it was not quite true, either. His encounter with the demon had rattled him, admittedly – it had shaken him to his very core, so badly that he still had nightmares about it – but his life had been more than pleasant once he'd recovered from the shock. For a time, Ellessin and Malkoran had had the whole world at their feet. Mal was the one who had ruined it all. He knew it perfectly well, and so did Elle. And now she was taking advantage of that knowledge. She knew how to manipulate him, and Mal knew every single one of her tactics. He had long ago decided that it was simpler (and less painful) to let her have her way.

Elle sniffed haughtily. "Of course, blame it all on the demon. Wherever he dwells, he must be the subject of many cruel jibes for ever transcending you, the poor bastard."

Mal stiffened. That was hardly fair. He hadn't asked for this, for this thrice-damned curse that had been plaguing him for thousands of years. The Seer had tricked them, and the demons had done what they did best: they had unleashed evil upon the earth, using Ellessin and Malkoran as their tainted vessels. And that wasn't even the worst part. Malkoran could have lived with that, if only Elle had stood by his side. But no; Mal had condemned himself to a loveless, endless life. "I will do whatever I can to help, dearest, but-"

Elle waved his defence aside. "No more excuses. Reunite your pack. Find Greyback, and bring him to me. No harm will be done to him, this I promise. We are not lawless savages."

Oddly, she seemed to be telling the truth. Why did she insist on taking the cub alive? She had a right to demand his life in return for her daughter's. Malkoran would expect the same, were the situation reversed.

Something was most definitely amiss. Elle was withholding information from him. Mal couldn't exactly blame her for that, though. She had no reason to trust him.

Ellessin scowled deeply when he did not formulate a protest. "As for killing you, I most certainly will not do it, and I will remind my children that it is expressly forbidden. You owe me this one favour, Mal, but I don't owe you anything." She turned around once more and took a few more graceful steps down the uneven stairs. "I trust that you will not disappoint me. Again. Much depends on this. Hannibal will know where to find me, when you have accomplished your task." With that, she spread her arms wide and flew out in the bright blue sky, then turned into an eagle and soon disappeared from his sight.