After reaching the bottom of the staircase, Sorin came to a stop in the center of a large rectangular room.  Along the far left wall was a large desk. There were computer screens, Jacque counted 6 in all, on the wall in front of the desk and paper was scattered over the top, halfway covering a keyboard and mouse. On all the walls of the large room were shelves packed with books and objects. There was a plush couch and two overstuffed recliners directly to the left of the stairway. Across the room on the far wall were several archways that led into darkness. In front of the arches there were several round tables with chairs around them. Jacque could tell there was something on the tables, but she was too far away to see what exactly it was. Stepping past Fane and Sorin, Jacque's moved closer to the tables and realized what was on them, or in them rather.

Carved into the tops of the tables were scenes. Each table had a different carving. The first one was of a pack of wolves running together through a forest. The crafter had given it so much detail that she could see where the wolves kicked up snow behind them. Their faces all looked light and carefree – no burdens or shadows in their eyes. The next table was a scene of two massive wolves locked in battle. Around them stood other wolves looking on, waiting. The two wolves fighting one another were on their hind legs, each attempting to slash their enemy. Both sets of teeth were bared and saliva dripped from their mouths. Jacque shuddered as she studied it; she could almost feel the tension the on looking wolves must have felt.

The third and final table held a much calmer scene. It was so touching that Jacque could feel a pull deep inside her, a longing for what she saw. A massive wolf sat tall and proud. His head was turned down, looking at the smaller wolf pressed closely against him, and pressed against her was a small pup. The she-wolf stared up at the proud male wolf in wonder, while the look in the male's eyes held intense emotion for the two in his care.

Jacque was amazed at the detail depicted and the amount of emotion somehow carved into the faces of these wolves.

"It's who we are, who we've been, and who we want and need to be." Jacque heard a voice coming out of one of dark arches. She turned back to look at Sorin, Fane, and Crina. Fane walked over to where she stood and pushed her behind him.

"So this is the prince's mate?" the voice spoke.

"Quit being dramatic and come out, Wadim." Sorin rolled his eyes.

"Sorin, did you just roll your eyes?" The voice, now named Wadim, asked.

"I've been with American teenagers for months now. I've learned a lot more than just eye rolling."

Jacque and Crina laughed out loud but abruptly stopped when a figure emerged from the middle archway.

Jacque attempted to step around Fane to get a better look at the guy, but Fane kept moving with her.

"Fane." Jacque's voice was stern as shespoke to him through their bond.

"Don't move from my side," he told her as he relented and allowed her to move next to him.

Jacque cocked her head to the side as she looked at the new male. "You're not old and dusty?" The man before her looked to be in his early thirties, tall, wavy black hair. He is totally rocking the Aragon look, Jacque thought to herself, comparing Wadim to the Lord of the Rings character.

"Is that wide-eyed wonder I hear in your voice, Jacquelyn?" Fane had obviously heard her thought.

"Chillax, wolf-man. I only have eyes for you."

"Good, I would hate to have to find a new historian." Fane's voice was a growl in her mind.

"Feeling possessive today, are we?" she teased.

"Behave yourself."

"I'm hearing that a lot lately from you." Jacque gave him a mental picture of her smiling graciously at Wadim.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't the brightest idea, she realized as Fane once again pulled her behind him. She let out a loud huff but settled for standing on her tiptoes and looking over his shoulder.

Wadim was wearing a faded gray t-shirt. Printed on the center was, "I can only be nice to one person a day. Today is not your day…tomorrow doesn't look good either." He had faded blue jeans and black converse sneakers. This was the pack historian?

Really? Jacque thought.

Wadim chuckled at Jacque's skeptical expression. "Old and dust? That depends on who you ask," he teased. He looked back at Sorin and smiled. "It's been a while, old friend."

Sorin nodded. "It's been a busy few months, as I'm sure you know."

"Knowing is my job, so please feel free not to share." Wadim pulled out a chair from the first round table and sat down, facing the group.

"Nice shirt," Crina spoke up. Her eyes shot over to Jacque, who gave her a thumbs up.

"My sister." Wadim grinned. "She sends me these shirts with different sayings on them. She says it's to help me keep my sense of humor. Apparently I'm surrounded by boring facts."

"What did you mean earlier?" Jacque asked from around Fane, who still wouldn't let her past.

"You were looking at the tables; you feel the pull of them."

Jacque nodded but didn't speak. She felt Fane wrap an arm around her waist. He pulled her beside him, firmly against him.

"These tables were carved by the Fae. Now, the Fae never do anything without reason.” Wadim gestured to the first table. “This image is of who we were created to be. I'm sure you know the legend behind the Canis lupis – how the moon goddess created us?"

Jacque nodded. "Yes. She created you to save the species of the grey wolves."