g of her heart, Deanna drew a long breath. Her inner fire was alive but barely controlled, erratic. She sensed it growing, pressing against the confines of her awareness, begging t

, tugged at her from inside out. She was not prepared. Whether she was ready or not, the battle was on its way. Zane sat on the edge of the camp later that night, back against a tree, gaze fixed on the fire. Deanna came along, her mind a jumbled mix of anxiety and uncertainty. She desired knowledge, desired to understand who she actually was, what she had to become. Zane, tell me the truth, she said, her voice softer than normal. What is actually happening here, then? Why do they all stare at me as though I'm some sort of, "Queen?" Zane completed for her, his voice low and consistent. You are thus. You simply don't know it as of now. His words made her tense up. Your words make me doubt you. Zane looked at her, his face inscrutable. You will indeed. But you are not quite there yet. You have to acknowledge it. Deanna replied, more vehemently than she intended. I don't want to be a symbol for all of you to follow. His gaze softened and he stretched out to brush her hand. It's not about being a symbol. It's about having the strength to defend what is yours. Her breath shallow, she withdrew her hand. What if I lack the strength? What if instead I set everything ablaze? Zane's jaw tightened and for a brief moment, his eyes showed a flicker of something more sinister. Then I shall assist you. I will assist you in regulating it. Deanna, you must choose. Deanna stared at him, her eyes lingering. Which one? Zane stood, his body tight with something she could not read. Whether you are ready to confront the force within you is up to you. Should you be prepared to join me and the Reavers in support. Deanna's heart leapt. She wanted to reject it, to pull away, but the draw between them was unrelenting. The link, the one that spanned between them, she felt it as certainly as she felt the fire within her. Zane's gaze flicked passed her and his demeanour changed to one of stress before she could say anything. Out of the gloom came a shadow she all too well recognised. Standing in the distance, Tyler's wolf's eyes glowed in the moonlight. Zane spoke in a low growl. He has returned. Deanna's stomach sank. The past was not finished with her still. Deanna stood at the edge of the clearing, the wind rustling through the trees as though it bore the weight of her thoughts. Every pulse was a reminder of the strength that had been lying inside her for so long, thus her heart raced in her chest. The heat that now coursed through her seemed different, stronger, darker, more vibrant. Zane stood next to h er, his eyes fixed on her face. Though his presence was grounding, something in his stare made her uncomfortable. He'd taught her and led her, but now it seemed as though he was waiting for her to accept the reality, waiting for something more to happen. Zane whispered "Focus," his voice low yet tinged with eagerness. Accept your inner strength. Give up the battle. Deanna's hands shook at her sides, the usual heat starting to rise up her arms. She could feel the wolffire, but this time, it wasn't the mild flare she had felt previously. Burning, insistent, pressing at the barricades she had erected around it. "I don't want this," she said softly, her voice almost inaudible. Zane retorted, his words cu