FIFTEEN

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"Hello, Sybil."

The woman looks at me, her lavender eyes look me over. She's tall, her skin pale and flawless, long and silver hair falling over her shoulders. To many she would turn eyes, to few she would be thought of as normal. She's elf, I can tell, how she holds herself and her eyes, they point towards that part of her. The elves are thought of to be the most respected, there to balance life, to make sure we are kept in check.

"How do you know me?" I ask, taking a step back, watching as she offers me a soft smile. Dressed in what many would consider too old, she wears a long dress, one of pure white and makes her appear to be out of time. She's the person who has been watching me when I run in the woods, the mysterious pair of eyes that make me cautious out there. "I've seen you, twice, your eyes at least. I've seen you watching me."

She nods. "I'm just an observer."

"I don't believe that," I mumble, watching as she looks over her shoulder to the door. Knowing the King, he will be searching for me, wondering where I am. She can't keep me alone, whatever she has planned, she can't keep me locked in here for however long she needs. "Zion will be here soon."

"I doubt that." I raise an eyebrow. "I set a spell upon the door. He will be unable to reach you until we are done here." I frown, looking towards the door I was so close to reaching. "And that one is shut as well." She came prepared, she came here not stupid. Then again, elves live centuries, the average age of death being four hundred. They gain knowledge easily. This isn't some stupid prank.

Elves can use magic, just like witches, but not as plentiful. Elves, being the most ancient race, although have few spells, their magic can be just as strong, even stronger the older they get. "What do you need?" I ask, crossing my arms as she takes a step forward, easing her hand to open her palm, a small glow of sunlight coming from her palm. I've never magic preformed before my own eyes, especially by an elf. But I know the trouble that follows when an elf uses magic. It's a sign.

"My dear and sweet Sybil, you have no idea what is going on."

"I know war is on the rise," I reply, making it sure that she knows I do not want to talk with her. She came here to probably say done cliché warning, saying that something else is coming. "I know that."

"So clueless, just like so many others."

"I do not care for your gibberish," I snap, watching as the woman looks around the walls, running her fingers over, the walls glowing with golden light. My eyes widen as the magic lights the tunnel, the magic spreading to the floor.

"So clueless about how big this war on the rise is. You have no idea the roll you will play."

"What do you want?" I ask, taking another step back as she legs go of the walls, the normal color returning as pounding can be heard on the other side of the tunnel. Zion is trying to get in. "ZION!" I scream, about to run past her, only to be held in a firm grasp.

"So foolish to call out to a man that sits upon a throne of lies." A scowl crosses my face. "If I were you, I'd rather be killed than bow down to a man like Zion." My skin pales as she lets me go, letting me run to the end of the tunnel only to meet a locked door. What does she mean by that? That he is some horrible King?

"Who the hell are you?" I yell, banging on the door as I can feel her behind me. "That you come here and tell me these things!"

"A friend."

"A friend who says I am foolish," I snap, facing her as I can feel my eyes becoming black. A small laugh passes her lips as she watches my wolf try and break free.

"A friend who is telling you to trust no one," she whispers, right as she disappears into golden dust. I stumble back, tripping over my own feet as I fall down. For someone to transport, it means they are witch. Elves are known for being able to send their soul from their body to another place, to be there physically. Whoever she is, I need to figure out.

The door flies open, Zion charging through as his eyes are darker than ever. His body is rigid as he scans the tunnel, his eyes lastly landing upon me as I can sense he is beyond angered. As we stand there, his eyes keep searching the dark tunnel for any signs of the woman who was just here. "Who was here?" He asks, his voice deep and on edge.

"I do not know. It was an elf, that's all I know," I reply calmly, beginning the walk back to the palace as my parents flash through my eyes. I feel guilt inside, how to many I do not seem to have suffered a great loss. Hell, here I am running with a King and not crying in my bed. No, I'm not going to say that they wouldn't want me crying, but I will say that the second I was made rogue, I learned that my love for family would have to be let go of.

Sure, it was still there, but when you're made rogue, for anyone really, the feeling of being disconnected from the pack also brings the pain of loss, as if your family has died within you. To become rogue means to become tormented with the pain of losing so much close to you. Not just to become an outcast.

"What was their name?" Zion asks as he follows me back to the palace.

"I do not know."

He's annoyed with that. That he does not have a name, a person to pinpoint and hunt down.

His fist collides with the tunnel walls, the cracking of bones heard as I let out a deep gasp. Zion pulls his hand back, holding it close as he grabs my arm with his other hand, pulling me along.

Once we reach the door, I open it, finding my way back to the main rooms of the palace as we enter a billiard room, a long and wide pool table in the middle, couches off to the side, and a cabinet of alcohol. "What did they want?" Zion asks, walking ahead of me to the other door, closing it as he switched the lock, making sure no one can get in, and I have no doubt he wants me to leave either.

"They..." The woman said to trust no one, that Zion sits upon a deceiving throne. But why? Does she have some form of dirt on him? Something tells me I will see her again, and very soon. "They said my name and then said the war coming would be bigger than we thought."

Zion offers me a laugh, taking a seat upon a couch as he relaxes, the laugh making me feel mocked. "What are they, some race that can just do horoscopes? Yes, Sybil, the war will be big, but-

"You're overlooking a warning?" I interrupt, this time feeling I shame as the King looks taken back. He's surprised that I have no apologized or put a hand over my mouth. "Are you that wise to do so?" King Zion lets out a sigh, resting his chin upon his hand as I raise an eyebrow. "Do you just ignore warnings?"

"I ignore vague warnings," he replies sharply, those golden eyes beginning to swirl with color. Amber streaks and bronze flakes fill his eyes as I wonder what it means, when his eyes change so rapidly with all of those colors. "Let's go."

Once back in the palace, I separate ways with the King, not before he ordered that I be at the Senate dinner tonight. Whatever they are serving, I hope it comes with alcohol, because it will be a very long dinner. With every Alpha gathered around the dining table, there is bound to be unwanted drama.

I head back to my room, not wanting to deal with anything else until the meal. As I open the door, I ignore her, pushing past and into my closet to take off the annoying clothing. "You seem upset."

"Yah, well, when you figure out your parents died and some elf is wanting you that your life is going to shit, you've got every right to be upset," I snap, looking over my shoulder to Penelope, putting on a shirt. She chuckles, walking over, a hand on my shoulder.

I'm turned around, my shirt halfway on as Penelope brushes a strand of my hair out of the way. "I expect you to be looking beautiful for the meal."

"Why would it matter?" I ask, crossing my arms, watching as she inspects my clothes to pick from.

She smiles. "Because I want to see a King and an Alpha have a lovely and violent meal this night."

I laugh, more of a stressed laugh as I fall to the floor, thinking of what is to come. "Just make sure my drink is strong enough and you'll get your wish."

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