4 Suffering
The sliding door of Aois private courtyard was opened vigorously,as she stepped out of her warm room staggeringly guided by the middle aged servant holding a bamboo comb.
The wind blew violently making her silk clothes ruffle and blue-black hair dance wantonly. A delicate hand with slightly long and clean fingernails rubbed at her tired eyes, her spidery lashes trembling fiercely.
Sitting beside the small tea table, she sat on her knees facing the bright glare of the white snow. Her head slightly tilted downwards as gentle strokes tidied up her hair, a small ribbon tying the two braids at the side of her head together. The glistening waterfall trailing down her slender back.
From time to time the woman sneakily glanced at her exposed face, sighing in her heart of her fair beauty that was like the moon hidden behind the clouds. Unfortunately she was talentless and was despised by her own grandfather, locked away in her own courtyard. Although luxurious and beautiful, it is no different than a gilded cage. As a result of her rebelliousness, that has caused her enough punishment for.
"Young Miss,transfer procedures have been completed... wouldn't it be better to prepare fo-" Her hoarse voice trying to sound as gentle as possible.
"Leave me be." A melodious yet cold voice spoke quietly, pale eyes rippled as she squeezed the snowflake shaped pendant attached to her sash. Trying to hide the cold mist that leaked from her red lips, sealing away the hidden emotions that plagued her slowly eating her out.
Standing up suddenly a torrent of snow and cherry blossom scattered over her face and hair, blinking indififferently she pinched a porcelain mask to her face. Just covering her eyes and forehead, revealing a small nose and a pair of ruddy lips.
Walking further along the outer veranda to another room, she listened to the clamouring of plates before she head in.
An exquisite wooden table stood in the middle of the room, covered in a variety of traditional Japanese dishes, fruits and small deserts. In the centre a porcelain kettle of wine and tea stood. A pair of unused dainty glasses and wooden chopsticks.
Closing the door behind them, a metal lighter was placed in her slightly cold palm as a cream crocheted shawl was placed over her shoulders. Holding it numbly in her hand and pursing her lips she took a deep breath and lit the sandalwood incense, sitting on the embroidered cushion opposite.
Her eyes were glazed over as she squeezed the fabric of her wide-length sleeves, her eyes dazed as she looked at the smiling couple in their wedding clothes. His pampering and affectionate gaze as he smiled down at the mischievous woman a triumphant smile in those dark blue orbs.
A strong waft of sandalwood suddenly blew up her nose making her flinch as she adjusted its position and poured in two glasses of Sake and tea in, as a semi-circle shaped wet patch of melted snow and petals fell out of her hair. Concentrating on boring in the image of her parents in her memory.
Although she didn't cry, her hands trembled and her jaw tightened almost whispering.
"I still miss you."
***
After a more than 10 hour flight from Canada to Japan, the group of werewolves considering of Alpha Marcus and his sister. Jodie as well as five high ranking fighters,as security guards,for the little trouble maker rested at a nearby hotel arranged by the airport.
Waking up in the early morning he scratched his tanned muscular chest, a thread like scar ran down from his stomach to his legs like a winding road. Placing the blanket back over the sleeping child, he patted his rough hands on her forehead with a grunt and placed a hand against the cold ceiling to floor window.
Looking at the skyline of grey buildings with displeasure,his bloodshot eyes squinted as the blue veins of his arms pulsed. The humidity and various smells of human sweat and fumes penetrated his nose, having lived in a more cold and windy environment his senses are somewhat sensitive to foul traces.
"Fuck-Damien...When I find you I'll never let you go." He muttered before pausing. Looking at the barely visible scar, just able to feel it against his rough hands.
"Mate...huh?" He sneered quietly before heading to the bathroom.
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A young woman dressed in Kimono walked stiffly as she held the invitation in her hand, a shrivelled up expression on her face and swallowing nervously. Marcus surveyed the place and followed the woman's actions by removing his shoes before entering the wooden house of one of the many courtyards, his eyes flickering with a little yellow in admiration.
"Tsk-Why are you here? It's the first time you've chased me to a new country." His Grandfather looked at him slyly as he looked at him from the corner of his eye.
Disgust in his eyes as he looked at his indifferent grandson who's chilly eyes bore into him. Making him whose head was covered in a layer of snow look even more like an ice sculpture.
As if his nose couldn't get any bigger, he pulled up his head proudly and looked quietly and showed off his Yukata.
"This must be your grandson-Marcus." A chilly voice suddenly attracted his attention as he looked a little surprised. Especially the shoulder length white hair and icicle like eyes, his brows furrowing somewhat.
"Since you know me I won't be polite." A wolfish grin on his face. As if everyone was unworthy of his presence, arrogance burning in his yellow eyes. A slight snarl when he spoke.
"Why is there land appropriated to the Okuyamas in the Fang pack?" Baring his jagged teeth as he threatened for answers.
Looking at his yellow eyes, his grandfather watched him solemnly and suddenly rushed at him with a frightening growl. His nails protruding claw like, Marcus holding a defensive stance when a hand gripped the back of his neck forcing to look at his half wolf human face.
'You may despise humans and you may hate strangers. But if you don't listen how would you know that the people your growling at are the ones who saved Cassie.' His voice breaking up the barrier placed on his mind.
Marcus's hands violently thrusting into his shoulder as he gritted his teeth in frustration.
"What does this have to do with anything?!" A snarl from within his chest.
As he panted and struggled fiercely amongst themselves, the small room grew cold. The breathing turning to mist and a fine layer of frost Covered the walls and the floor.
"Six years ago my daughter and her husband were killed in Canada, The Imperial Fang." He muttered dumbly. "Rogues."
"My granddaughter became an orphan that day, but she still saved your sister." He whispered quietly the smell of gunpowder intensifying.
His throat dry unable to say more, branding the words he couldn't say in his heart.
'When was the last time I saw her face.'
