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Anya's shrill screams resounded down the corridor while the torn flesh from her neck and shoulder bled freely. She thrashed against the monster's secure iron hold, her mind telling her she was safe, but her survival instincts overpowering all sense of reason. Her fighting intensified when the creature bared his fangs once more and lowered his monstrous face to her already ravaged flesh.

She woke with a scream, a bloodcurdling sound of sheer and blind terror. Anya struggled mindlessly against the strong arms that held her forcefully down on the familiar texture of her bed.

"GET OFF ME! Let me GO!"

"Anya, darling, you need to stop this. You are going to reopen your wounds." She vaguely recognized the soothing voice. Slowly she began to calm herself. Through the haze that was her vision, she began to make out faces, familiar faces.

"Farkas," she croaked, having badly hurt her vocal cords with all her shrieking.

"I'm here," his words were calm enough, but his tone was relieved.

Anya drew breath to answer but burst into a coughing fit instead. Farkas held her hand patiently while it receded. She had barely managed to form the word 'water' when there was a fresh cup in her hand. She drank thirstily for a solid minute, having it refilled several times before she could speak.

"What happened?"

"How much do you remember?"

"I-I don't know...the last thing I remember was Raze," she swallowed nervously, "in his wolf form."

"You do not remember the bite?" Farkas prodded gently at her heavily bandaged neck.

Anya's eyes widened at the sight of her injured shoulder. "So…it is done?" She was quite proud at how steady her voice sounded.

Farkas' dark gaze regarded her steadily, "Yes." That one word sent tremors through her stomach. Outwardly she remained calm and only said. "Good"

Her body was tight with apprehension, what was going to happen now? Lucian had explained to her that some mortals die within a few hours of being bitten. That obviously was not her case, but what happened now? The alpha had not gotten that far in his explanation.

Slowly she began to sit up, propping herself on her elbows.

"How long have I been unconscious?" It was Klara who answered her.

"Almost three days miss, we thought you'd never wake," her lower lip trembled dramatically, giving Anya the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'm fine now," she sat up completely as Klara embraced her, sobbing. Anya patted the other woman's head awkwardly. "Three days?" she mouthed over Klara's head to Gedeon, who stood at the corner of the room. The blond giant nodded grimly. Anya simply grimaced.

Gently but firmly she detached the maid's arms from around her neck. "Klara, I know you're upset, but you're hurting me," she said between gritted teeth. The maid sprang off the bed, jostling Anya and hurting her further. Farkas lifted an eyebrow in irritation, while Gedeon laughed softly behind him. Anya was surprised to see that among the other people in her room was Raze. He stood a little away from the rest; or rather they stood a little away from the hulking giant. His gaze was severe and grave as ever, but his blue eyes held something gentler. Relief? As soon as Raze saw her stare he moved forward from the wall. Instinctively Anya shrank back into herself, but when she realized what she had done she straightened. She was being ridiculous, he meant her no harm. No matter what she thought, his rumbling voice sent tremors through her body.

"I must speak to you alone, Lady, on Lucian's orders."

"Of course," she kicked herself mentally at the sound of her terrified voice. She nodded to the rest and they dispersed immediately. Farkas and Gedeon stayed behind, their eyes asking if she would be alright. Anya smiled tightly and nodded. They left her without a word and she was forced to turn back to the hulking figure by her bed.

She looked up at Raze expectantly and was surprised to find him smiling at her. She tilted her head curiously, silently asking him what was amusing.

"I am pleasantly surprised," he said simply.

"That I survived?" she asked a little angrily. He chuckled at that.

"Yes," he said truthfully, "and that you are taking it so well."

"Well it wouldn't do any good for me to run out of here screaming now would it?" she snapped. Raze's laughter rumbled out of his chest, his dark features brightened in amusement.

"I suppose not," he replied when his laughter subsided. After a contented sigh he continued, "I'm here to answer any questions that you might have… and also to help you through the memory visions."

"Memory visions?" Anya's head swirled in confusion, and she frowned. "When will I be getting those?"

"You probably already have. Did you have any unusual dreams while you were unconscious? About me?" Her eyes widened at that and a red flush spread through her cheeks. She had had dreams about him, improper dreams. It was mortifying enough to have had them, but Raze knowing about them was beyond embarrassing.

"Uhm…yes?"

"Is that a question or a statement?" Her flush impossibly deepened, and Raze felt a deep satisfaction at that.

"A statement," she tried to sound firmer. "It was a statement." She glanced haughtily at him, as if daring the giant to say something about it. Did she imagine the sudden glimpse of affection in his eyes? She must have, for there was nothing there now.

"The dreams you've been having are my own memories, human and Lycan alike." Anya's eyebrows shot up. So the hazy visions of that strange desert land had been real? And here she thought she was going insane.

"So all those dreams," she blushed again at this, "They were parts of you're life?"

"Yes, they were. Do not pay them any heed, they are of no importance. Just try to get through the visions as best as you can. Eventually they will fade."

"So I'm going to dream of you're whole life?" This was very interesting, was this why Lucian refused to turn her? Perhaps he was hiding something.

"No not my whole life, only some of the important parts."

"Will you tell me about it sometimes? Perhaps if I knew a bit more of your story the visions would be easier to bear." She knew she was asking for a lot but her curiosity was piqued.

"Perhaps, when there is time." Anya smiled warmly in gratitude and Raze melted a little. How could he resist such a woman? "For now I must take you to Lucian straightaway, if you feel up to it that is." He took her raised eyebrow as a yes and stood. "I'll wait for you just outside the door, so you may change your garments." Anya was suddenly aware that she was wearing a flimsy white nightgown that was not fit for company.

"Yes thank you," she managed to say, but he was already out the door.

…

Suitably dressed, Anya walked with Raze to Lucian's quarters. The giant noted alarmingly that Anya wobbled a little as she walked and she looked as though she was going to fall any minute; but her determined gaze and stubborn set of her chin told him any offer of help would be unwelcome. Aside from her infuriating weakness, Anya began to notice subtle differences in herself. Her muscles still trembled as if recovering from a long illness, but she felt the power there nevertheless. Her sense of smell was especially heightened, and it took her a while to adjust to all the different odors. Most of her senses were heightened but there was something more. There was a deep change within her; she knew this as she felt the urge to walk a step behind Raze. It took effort not to whine a little when he looked her way. He was a dominant male and she a barely turned female; it made for an odd situation. Raze was understood, he knew well what she was feeling. He had felt it himself around Lucian. Their alpha was currently the most dominant wolf in existence: it was hard to resist that kind of power.

"Is it always like this?" asked Anya, finally breaking the silence. "Why do I have an overwhelming urge to curl up at your feet?" He didn't laugh at her as she expected. Instead he turned concerned eyes at her. Naturally she looked away.

"It will not be this strong, no. But there will always be a sense of submission when you are in the presence of more powerful wolves."

"So you are more powerful," it was not a question, she wasn't deluded enough to think herself equal to such a warrior. Raze merely raised an eyebrow at her with amusement in his eyes.

"Naturally," she scowled at this but knew that he was teasing. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

As they reached the doors to Lucian's rooms they flung open and Anya was left with her right fist in the air. Lucian had obviously been waiting for them. To her surprise, her dark gaze was met by the extremely relieved blue eyes of her alpha. Had he been worried about her? That was an interesting thought. Anya smiled inwardly.

"Lucian," she said by way of greeting. Her voice was a little breathless and shamelessly female. The attraction she had felt for him seemed to double. As she had wanted to submit to Raze, she now wanted to do with Lucian; in a different way of course.

"Anya, I am glad to see that you are well." His nostrils were flared and his voice was stiff. Lucian had gone a little mad once he had smelled Anya as a werewolf. She gave out a heady smell that seemed to invite male attention. Raze seemed unaffected, however, so it must be just Lucian. Odd.

"I am glad to be well. I don't remember much of what happened, but obviously the bite was successful."

"Indeed," Lucian said. "I assume that Raze has spoken with you already? Anya?" Anya's eyes had gone wide and unseeing. Her hands trembled and sweat began to bead at her brow. She was no longer in Cachtice.

Raze's memories had hit her unexpectedly, this time she was no longer in the barren desert lands she had become accustomed to dreaming, but in a familiar landscape. Not her home, but someplace very similar. The black forest cast long and twisted shadows. Anya saw a large hulking figure that could only be Raze and a small band of men bound together and being led by a carriage. The soldiers surrounding the carriage sat proud and straight in their horses, they seemed calm and steady but their eyes were ever shifting to the smallest movements in the woods. Leading the procession was a woman of outstanding beauty. She wore silver armor that curved and molded to her body perfectly, and a long sword hung on her left hip. She rode a magnificent horse whose coat gleamed black as coal; her long hair, of the same color, was unbound and framed her pale and exquisitely beautiful face. She turned sharply into the moonlight, her eyes narrowed dangerously. A wolf howled nearby…too close for comfort. The lady smoothly drew her sword out of her scabbard in a practiced, and deadly, manner.

The silver blur of her weapon was the last thing Anya saw before the darkness came.