Alma

Chapter Four: Alma

I had taken about two bites when a chair scrapes the floor beside me and I wince. Then plates are set on the table with a quiet enough “clack,” followed by the chair, quietly this time, sliding back toward the table, Dante’s body occupying it. The dishes were piled up with food including steak, cooked rare by the smell of it, potatoes, some pork loin, and carrots from what I could see. There were other vegetables and some more cuts of meat I could smell, but I didn’t bother examining the plates to see what they were.

At the smell of the various cuts, my wolf perks up and suddenly I am starving, but I refuse to show it, and scold my wolf for being annoying. The smirk on Dante’s face tells me that he knows what has happened between my wolf and I, but I refuse to say anything.

I didn’t say a word to him, rather discussing with my wolf when she should make her presence known. She doesn’t listen though, continuing to tell me what I should be doing. She seems almost teasing, basking in the presence of Dante like the power-hungry b***h she can be. I roll my eyes, bringing a confused expression to my dinnermate’s face. I causally wave my hand dismissively, eliciting a sigh from him.

“I can see you fighting with her. I also grabbed you a plate. I told you you would be hungry.” He says in a kind yet also cocky way as he slides one of the plates my way.

I find the amount of food on it overwhelming, an opinion not shared by the b***h in my head. She pushes for control, and wins as I start on the plate with a fever, stuffing my mouth full with what my wolf thought was an appropriate sized bite. Dante seems surprised and I raise an eyebrow, watching him out of the corner of my eyes, daring him to say something. When I finish chewing my giant mouthful of a first bite, I glare at him and growl out the words “shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but your face is saying too much.”

He laughs. Laughs! “It’s not funny.” My wolf wants me to shove my face some more, but I hold back just a bit.

“No, I suppose not. But, how do you make your face say less?”

“I don’t know. Just try it.” I bargain with my wolf on the amount of food the fork can hold, winning the debate as I take a normal-sized second bite.

Dante’s expression becomes mockingly outraged and he throws his arms up a little, but decides to be silent as he resumes his own dinner.

Two other she-wolves come up to the table after about ten minutes, and I decide I am done with dinner, though the amount I had eaten in that span of time astounds me. One of the females is known as the ‘Alpha b***h’, or Luna, of our school pack, though I am more dominant; we’ve never had a battle, and I see no need to. If she wants to keep everything in check, then she could, even if she is horrible at it. She was tall, like the majority of female shifters, and had the dark hair most of us possessed too. As required, she is beautiful, much like her cronie, the female deemed as the ‘Beta’ of the school pack. This one is short, about five feet even, and her hair was obviously dyed a light blonde, if her darker roots had anything to say. They were both giggling messes, and I want to leave, but a quick look around the room shows a bunch of Oni around the door, and I was not going there without some form of help. I’m not totally stupid. So, I put up with the two females as they try to form coherent sentences.

Finally, the taller one gets a question out. “Dante, what are you doing with the half blood?”

Of course, that is the question she asks. Not ‘why aren’t you with the rest of the pack?’ or ‘why are you over here?’ Nope, she just had to ask ‘why are you here with the half blood’. There wasn’t anything wrong with being a half-blood; there were a few of them at the school, and in the various packs around the world. The problem other shifters have with me is that I wasn’t a mixed shifter-shifter, or a shifter-human, no, I was shifter-fae, which made me weird.

My parents had been killed when their families found out they had chosen to leave and raise me as a family; they had disgraced their future “true” mates, the other halves of their respective souls, by choosing each other and me. What the fae and pack families didn’t understand though, was that my parents were true mates; and they had been put to death because of it. True mates were normally only compatible within their own species, but my mother had been part wolf shifter; something her grandmother had withheld from both her mother and her.

I was terrified of finding my true mate. Would they be shifter or Fae? Or both? Would I even be accepted by them and their family? Would I be put to death for finding the other half of my soul too?

My wolf goes near-feral when I even think about the subject, so I reject my own questions, believing I will get to that point when I get there. My wolf and I both had to be fully open to the idea of my mate before the bond clicked into place, allowing a metaphysical connection with each other. Whereas I was fine, my wolf was fearful, meaning I probably wouldn’t meet them and they would imprint on someone else. Imprinting occurs between two open individuals that aren’t true mates; these bonds are only accepted when the true mates of each party have died or were mutually rejected by each other.

Being stuck in my own head has caused me to miss what has transpired in front of me, but Dante is snarling at the females, who both submit and run away. Then, the male turns to me, questions in his eyes. “I don’t know what you want to ask, so you may as well shoot. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Is it true about your parents? Did they ignore their mates?”

I growl as my wolf surges forward. “No,” is all I can say before my teeth lengthen, making speech difficult.

Dante sighs in what seems to be relief. “Then where are they?”

I take a few deep breaths and get a hold on my wolf. “Dead.”

The confusion on the temporary Alpha’s face is infuriating. “My mom was a quarter wolf, but my great-grandmother didn’t say anything until after my parents were put to death. No one had told her my mom had met her mate until after they were dead.” I begin to slip on my control as my outrage grows and I look toward the door. “I need to get out of here.”

Dante nods and rises. “Stay put,” he commands as he brings the plates up to one of the cooks. I watch as the female cook nods, a smile on her face, and packages the food into some styrofoam containers for him to take to his room. The entire conversation takes maybe three minutes, and then Dante is jogging back to me. “Come on.”

I waste no time standing and heading to the door; the need to phase is causing my bones to pop and snap painfully, trying to transition from canine to human and back. My wolf is freaking out in my head-- I knew I shouldn’t have said anything or thought about my parents or mates. I was tired already, but my wolf was jazzed-- she wanted out and she wanted to hunt. It seemed to take eons to get outside, where I give in to my wolf, a large dark canine with white socks. It took a minute or two to fully shift, but I wasn't expecting anything to happen-- as such, I'm pretty pleased with myself. My fur is shaggy and I shake it out before walking over to my bag, but Dante has already grabbed it and is rummaging through it to find my ID card that will allow us into my dorm. I trot in place while waiting.

Finally, he finds the card and makes a gesture that tells me to lead the way. I waste no time as I run toward the dorm and back, only to loop back and return to Dante’s side. I feel like an oversized puppy, but I don’t particularly care. This is the first time I have phased completely in months, and I feel free. Dante is smiling and chuckling at my antics and when we reach my dorm I find that neither my wolf nor I want to go in. We want to run.

The dorm I was placed in was made specifically for dominant shifters. The walls are reinforced and the rooms are singles, but large enough to not resemble cells. There were large windows in each room to help with the feeling of being caged in. The outside is made of cinderblocks and held together by cement and rebar. It was a strong building.

Dante opens the main door and I show him up to my room on the top floor. When he opens the door, I don’t enter, instead indicating I want to go back outside. Understanding what I am trying to say, Dante asks “You want to go for a run?” in a flat voice, and I nearly jump in excitement as my wolf freaks out with joy. He sets down our stuff, with the exception of my ID card, and then we turn around, going back outside.

There is a section of forest designated for the shifters to run in, and this is where Dante and I walk now. He places my ID card in one of the small lockers created for storing personal items while running. I turn around as he also places his clothing in the locker and phases.

His fur is white-almost-gray like smoke, and longer than most males, considering his hair is only about three inches long, and messy as a human. He is also larger than I am by at least fifty pounds. It was crazy; I am roughly one hundred and twenty pounds as a wolf, which is pretty big considering most males are the same size, and females weigh in at about ninety pounds.

Dante shakes his fur out and takes a few steps closer to me; I hold my ground, refusing to show that his size is intimidating. After a few moments of silence, I shake my head and turn around, darting off before the male could launch himself toward me like prey. I feel my feet hit the ground at a quick pace, but I hear Dante’s own stride right behind me, and know I need to go faster.

Soon I hear my own heartbeat above all else and my breath is again rasping my lungs, but not in pain, rather in exhilaration. I nearly forgot how freeing it is to run, how great. Everything but the run falls away, then I spot a rabbit, and suddenly my wolf is driving and giving chase. The rabbit didn’t stand a chance as I killed it, and disturbingly devoured it. I give a howl in victory at the small kill, and I hear Dante respond. His footfalls soften and stop beside me moments later, where I lay on the soft ground, belly up, watching the night sky and trying to count the stars, calmer and more content than I had been in a while. My pack mate plops himself beside me, copying my position, but looking at me, his head tilted in confusion. I don’t know how to communicate to him that I really want to stay like this for a while, especially considering I am not an official member of the school pack and lack the pack bonds for mind-linking, and watch the sky, so I flick my paw to the sky and stay put. He seems to understand, and together we lay there under the stars. My tranquil state eventually becomes sleep, and the stars don’t follow.