Episode 3

It was a beautiful morning, even though the events of the past night made one question this writer. The sun had come out for work earlier than usual, shining so brightly, as if it was a typical Christmas morning. The birds, not left out, kept on chirping, as if they had a glimpse of what was to come. The sky was a clear blue, the color more overwhelming than that worn by the blues of London. The air, as always had been, was crisp and fresh. Everything seemed to point to a day whose story would be told with care and time.

Damon had woken up to the sound of birds singing and the gentle breeze blowing through his hair. Those songs reminded him of Grace.

"Sometimes I wonder if we really do have the same blood flowing through our veins," he had sarcastically said to her, laughing. "I don't understand why you sing like the angels, yet I don't, not even if I had to save my life by singing."

"Come on, Damon, we all have got our strength. Like you, I would love to play the keyboard so effortlessly, but even if I try learning, I can never beat you to it," she responded to him, managing a grim smile.

Like the birds, Grace was one hell of a singer. She made music look so underrated. "Even Tatiana would pay over the odds just to watch and hear you sing," he said to her. "You're damn good!"

"One day, I would love to sing on the biggest stage. Nothing is going to beat that," she had shared her dream with him, sounding really confident.

"You will, and I will be there cheering you on, making sure everyone knows we're blood!," he said to her, sounding very, just like her, confident.

"Damn it!," he quietly let out his frustration, still struggling to come to terms with the reality that she was no more. Death had dealt him a cruel blow!

He tried to stretch his arms and legs, but quickly realized that he could not extend them. Curious, he thoroughly looked around the place, surprised at what his eyes beheld. He had been locked up in a cell, one that barely held a human being less his size. Confused, he tried to look through the cell, but there was only little his eyes could behold. There were other cells there, but he could not find anyone in them.

"Hello! Anyone here?," he asked, more in hope than in expectation.

He got no response.

He tried to figure out how he had gotten in there, but nothing was forthcoming. The only thing he remembered was that he had frustratedly tried to get the attention of the pack that had rescued him, but no one seemed interested in saying a word to him…well, that was someone gave out the order…

"Put him to rest," he had said.

He remembered one of the men coming across to him and hitting him on the head with something, even though he had no idea what it was. Quickly, he reached for his forehead, trying to see if he felt any pain.

"Ouch!," he said, writhing in pain.

"Hello! Anyone here!?," he said again, desperate, but no one seemed to have heard him. Determined to get out, he started banging on the ironing door, hitting it so hard, but it wouldn't budge. He was trapped.

"Fuck!," he let out, as his hands hit a nail that was adjoined to the iron. He sat back, confused, not sure what else to do. He lay back down, taking out his frustration on nature.

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"Father, you sent for me," Fidelis began, curious. It was unlike Lord Cage to reach out to him, especially that early. The alpha would never see anyone until the sun had gone to work. Nothing was more important to him than an early morning yoga session, one he had tried to convince Fidelis and his sister, Alicia, into becoming specialists in.

"Nothing is more fragile than an untrained mind," he would begin his long speech on how the mind worked. "If you let it wander, you would have lost it before you even realized," he would add.

But no matter what he said, Fidelis and Alicia always had a different view about the mind. "We'll try," they would jointly say to him in reply, but they never tried. "Everyone has their path; yoga is not mine," Alicia would say to Fidelis.

"What happened last night?," he just said to him, concentrating on his yoga session.

"I have no idea what you speak of, father," Fidelis said, surprised.

"Where did you take your friends and some of the pack to last night?," he continued probing, still maintaining calm.

"Oh, that?," he said, heaving a sigh of relief. "We had to go haunting; you know we haven't done that in a while.

"Who did you return with?," he asked.

"My friends and the others," he said, wearing a worried look. He had no idea why he had asked the question. Certainly, he was up to something.

"Don't lie to me, son," he said, finally turning around to look at him. Even though he looked fiery, Lord Cage was everything but. Sometimes, Fidelis was left wondering how he had never lost a battle despite displaying the character of a child. He always ensured to carry a joke with him, even when there was nothing to laugh about.

"Life is not as damning as we make it look," he would say in response. "A smile is a more deadly weapon of war than a wolf's bite, for it helps you defeat your enemy while leaving them thinking they still got a fight in them."

Lesson learned!

"Father, I don't…"

"Don't lie to me!," he cut him short. "Who is he?," he said, looking more sternly at him.

He had seen them when they returned last night. He watched on as they carried Damon, looking like one with no life, away to the prison block.

Lord Cage has always been very worried about Fidelis. He felt that he was always a decision away from messing things up.

"He always seems to make the wrong choices," he confided in his old mate, Duffy.

"Give him time, the boy will come good. Remember, you were not always like this," Duffy would say.

Time was one luxury Lord Cage believed he didn't have in his treasury. He could feel an attack coming, one that was going to be fatal, and he felt his son wasn't even ready for it. Privately, he wished Alicia was a man. She was to him everything Fidelis was not; everything he had hoped he would be. That was why he always confided in her whenever he had a very tough decision to make.

"I see myself in her," he told Duffy.

"Be careful what you wish for, my friend," said Duffy, who was a firm believer in Fidelis. "Remember the prophecy."

"Okay, father, you win," he said, tired of trying to cover his tracks. "We captured him as we hunted. He looked so lost and couldn't even walk, so we had to bring him with us. I know you're upset, father, but I could not leave him there. He was going to die," he tried to explain to him.

Lord Cage stayed quiet for a while, just staring at nothing before him. Somehow, he liked the fact that he had helped a stranger, but then, it felt like a risky adventure.

"He could be an enemy!," he said, turning the heat on him.

"I don't think he is, father. But even if I'm wrong about him, he can't escape. He's in the cell, and will only get out when you give the command."

"Where is Alicia?," he asked.

"With the swordsmen," he said.

"Go get her. And don't return," he added behind him.

******************************************************

He found her still training with the swordsmen.

"Hey, don't hit him that way; you, defend against the attack, your back's against the wall. Attack!!!," she rolled out orders to them.

Alicia, like her father, was a huge fan of the combat skills. She, from an early age, had always trained with the swordsmen. She had even given herself to more intense sessions. Sometimes, she needed Lord Cage to remind her that she was just a woman, not like one of those swordsmen, "who had balls and huge fists," as he always put it.

But none of that seemed to deter her. Instead, she worked harder to prove him wrong. She always made sure to remind him that strength was not in appearance, but about the sacrifices one was willing to put in to reach a goal. Everyday, she kept on training, increasing her intensity until she had become, not just a lord of the sword, but the leader of the swordsmen. Determined to ensure she was not the only lady who knew the art of the sword, she had begun to recruit other female wolves, making sure they, too, could fight with the sword. He knew it wasn't her fault; their father, the alpha, seemed to prefer her combat skills to his hunting expeditions with his friends.

"Hey," Fidelis said to her, finally walking up to her. He had watched her bark oyut orders to those she trained, smiling as she did. He loved his little sister, even though she seemed to have their father's wear more than he did.

"Hey, brother," she said to him, surprised to find him there. "Surely, you must have lost your way," she said to him, chuckling. He briefly joined her.

"You know I wouldn't even come here if it wasn't important. Father demands your presence," he said to her.

"Now?," she asked, surprised.

"Yes," he said.

"That's hard to believe!," she continued. "The alpha doesn't trade his yoga sessions for nobody."

"Well, he just broke his rule."

"Then I must hurry," she said. She quickly passed on a few instructions to the ladies before she walked away, leaving Fidelis behind.

"Father," she began, as she took a couple of steps closer to him.

"I need you to do something for me," he just said to her.

"What?."

******************************************************

It was already past two hours, yet no one had showed up. Damon grew increasingly weak, hungry and thirsty as he contemplated his next action. His wound from trying to break free from the cell was starting to hurt really bad. He could barely move that hand freely. Hey, that didn't stop him from banging on the cell door again, shouting as he did.

"Fuck!," he let out, frustrated that he had the same outcome.

Just when he thought no one was going to show up, a lady appeared with food and medicine for him, accompanied by one of the men that had accompanied Fidelis for the hunting. It was he who had helped him on his feet that night.

"I recognize you!," he quickly said to him.

He said nothing to him.

"Why am I locked up here!?," he asked, looking angry.

"Hey," she said, passing him the food, through a tiny hole, "you need this; eat for strength."

"What the fuck am I doing locked up here!?," he asked, still angry.

"You're bleeding," she said, calling his attention to his bloody hands. Her eyes glowed as she looked at them, but she quickly subdued her emotion. "Open it," she said, looking at the fella that came with her.

"You're sure about this?," he whispered to her, unconvinced.

"Open it, I've got this," she said again.

"You're lucky it's not too deep," she said to him, as she attended to him.

"Who are you?," she asked, looking subdued.

"You should eat now; you need every strength you can get," she said to him. She watched on as he ate. "I'll be back later," she said to him, as she locked the cell.

Damon was grateful for her help, but he couldn't help but wonder who she was and why she had dealt with him so kindly.

"Who are you?," he asked again, but she wouldn't answer. She just smiled at him and left.

Damon was left alone again, but at least, he wasn't hungry or in pain anymore. In his loneliness, he couldn't help but think about her.

She had done something to him, one that left him lost for words….

Time will tell…

Maybe…

Just maybe….