The Plot

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Helena fled the tower a few minutes later, leaving Adrian behind to clear up and lock the doors. She walked down the slope with her cloak tightly wrapped around her, her head bent to shield her from the growing wind and the beginnings of rain. It hit her like a whip and for once she cursed her secluded position away from the town.

Her feet slipped on the loose stones that lined the track and she swore under her breath as she regained her balance. She curled in on herself more, lowering her centre of gravity and continuing onwards. Soon the buildings rose up from the ground and she walked the quiet streets.

Few wolves were out due to the oncoming storm, but as Helena passed a corner she spotted Iona taking in her laundry. 

"Hey, Lena!" Iona called in greeting. Had Helena not been in a rush she would've paused to chat, but instead she paused for a moment to wave back.

The sky was dark with thick clouds as she approached the inn. The air had a heavy, almost static tension to it and she could taste the coming storm on her tongue. Inside the inn the merriments weren't dulled by the poor weather, warmth and music radiating from the windows and doors. Helena stood on the threshold, her eyes fixed on the brass handle and her hands tightly balled into fists. She drew in several long deep breathes, testing the air.

Her brows grew closer together and she frowned, her lip pulling back slightly to reveal her gritted teeth. She recognised those scents. That wasn't good. Not good at all.

The smell of olives, lemon and the deep tang of metal was far too familiar to her. For a moment she closed her eyes and took several calming breaths to still her panicky heart.

Why was this happening? After all these years of hiding, of keeping her head down, why did it have to be now that her past caught up with her? Just when things were beginning to look up.

"Stop it Helena," she whispered to herself, "get a fucking hold of yourself and suck it up. You're better than this."

She straightened up and slapped her cheeks slightly before reaching forward and opening the door. The heat of the room within hit her as soon as she entered, allowing her to shed her heavy cloak. Despite her intimidating presence she went unnoticed as she moved through the throng towards the bar. At the end of the bar was a single spare stool, tucked beneath the uneven wooden counter. She quickly claimed it as her own and sat herself down with her back to the bar.

"Oh, miss Helena. Would you like a drink?" The bartender asked, approaching with cautious gait. Her head snapped around and the young man went still as her eyes bored into his.

"No. I'm here on business," her voice was cold as she spoke, sending a shiver down the wolf's spine.

The venomous look soon sent him scurrying away and she turned back to the room to complete her inspection. In a corner were three wolves all sat around a table. One of them was unfamiliar, but the other two. Well, that was another story.

They certainly hadn't aged well. The last time she had set eyes upon them was almost a decade ago and back then they'd been in their thirties. The pair were mates, inseparable and deadly. Or they had been at least. Now they lacked the muscle definition and poise of a killer, their bodies softened by time and age. Neither appeared to be aware of their surroundings and they clearly lacked the incessant paranoia that they were once known for.

Helena relaxed minutely, allowing her muscles to unwind with the assurance that she appeared to be in fitter condition than both wolves. She could take them if she needed to.

A question still niggled at the back of her head and it was one that could only be answered one way.

Helena pushed herself to her feet, her clothes rustling slightly as she moved and she silently slipped her way through the singing and dancing merrymakers, her eyes focused and unmoving. She prowled with a hunter's stare, her boots not making a sound on the flag stones. Neither of her targets noticed her until she was looming over them and even then it took a second for them to register her scent.

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