Alpha Temptation: Love in Two Worlds

The Howl of the Wolf

Rachel



I awaken to the shrill sound of my alarm filling the room. The noise shatters the tranquil atmosphere of my slumber, but what still echoes in my mind is the image of the beautiful golden wolf with bright green eyes atop a mountain, beneath the full moon, howling majestically. It's a recurring dream I've had since childhood, and although I can't grasp its meaning, it always leaves me with a sense of wonder.

I stretch and turn off the alarm, allowing the room's silence to envelop me once more. I feel the necklace hanging around my neck. It's a piece of metal shaped like a majestic wolf. It has belonged to the women in my family, passed down through generations, and although I don't fully understand its significance, I know it's a link to my ancestors.

Since childhood, I've had a special fascination with wolves, and so did my mother.

Oh, my mother...

She died five years ago in a tragic car accident. She was with my father, and he survived but was left quadriplegic.

I sit on the bed, feeling the cool texture of the necklace against my skin. I gaze at the moon through the window, as if seeking answers in its silver glow. The wolf's howl in my recurring dream keeps resonating in my mind, and although I can't explain it, I know it's intrinsically tied to my destiny somehow.

"Okay, here we go," I say as I rise to my feet, ready to start a new, challenging day.

The warm water from the shower envelops me as I stand still under the comforting stream. Fatigue courses through my body from staying up late reading a case file, a constant reminder of how monotonous my life has become. Every day, the same routine: waking up at 4 a.m., getting ready, and taking the train to New York. While my job as a junior attorney at a prestigious law firm in the Big Apple provides me with a decent salary, living in New York is a luxury I can't afford. Like many others, I find myself trapped in the endless back-and-forth between New Jersey and the city that never sleeps.

The reality is that New York City is expensive, and although my junior attorney salary is decent, most of it goes toward paying the mortgage on my father's house in Traverse City, Michigan. In the accident that took my mother's life, my father incurred overwhelming medical bills, and since healthcare in the United States costs an arm and a leg, my father had to take out a bank loan to cover his hospitalization and therapies. Since then, our financial situation has become a constant challenge, and I've become the family's primary provider.

As the water continues to fall, I close my eyes and delve into my thoughts. I often wonder if this monotonous life has a purpose beyond survival. The wolf's howl in my recurring dream seems like a call, a reminder that monotony can be broken, and there's something greater out there waiting to be discovered. What could that howl mean? It's a mystery that remains unanswered, but I refuse to give up. Life may be monotonous, but somewhere, at some point, perhaps I'll find a path beyond the routine.

The elegant burgundy suit I found at a thrift store hangs in my closet, far from being tailored to fit me. But, as often happens in life, circumstances and a limited budget don't allow me to enjoy a custom outfit. Still, the suit has its charm, and with a bit of imagination, I can make it look good. I slip it over my shoulders and face the mirror as I put on my Vans sneakers.

The truth is, my Vans look entirely out of place next to this elegant suit, but in the madness of New York and my daily train commute, I have no intention of running through the streets in heels. So, with a resigned sigh, I tuck the heels into my bag.

My chestnut hair, often the envy of many of my friends due to its softness and shine, requires a session with the hairdryer. As I dry it, I reflect on the monotonous routine of my daily life. It's an uncomfortable balance, a dance between forced elegance and running through the crowded streets and courthouse hallways. Life in New York often forces you to make practical choices, even if it means wearing Vans with a suit.

Finally, with dry hair and a last look in the mirror, I summon my determination. If life has taught me anything, it's to adapt to circumstances and maintain my personal style, even when the rules of the game are tough. With the loose-fitting suit and comfortable sneakers on my feet, I'm ready to face another day in the New York City jungle. It's a daily battle, but I'm determined not to give in.

My small apartment fades as I head toward the building's main door. With a portfolio in one hand and my bag hanging from my shoulder, I descend the wooden stairs that seem to resist every step I take. Each creak is an echo of the years since someone last remodeled this building.

When I reach the main door, I have to exert a bit of force. I push, as I do every morning, and finally, the door yields, revealing the streets of New Jersey bathed in the dawning light.

The train station is a few blocks away, and I know I have a long day ahead. Although the trip to New York isn't particularly long, the crowd, noise, and constant hustle and bustle of the Big Apple often make me feel like I'm in a constant struggle to find my place amid the chaos.

I walk with determination through the streets of New Jersey, a quiet suburb that offers respite from the hustle and bustle of the big city. It's a journey I make every day, a routine that, although monotonous, is an essential part of my life. As a junior attorney at a major law firm, I'm used to fighting for my place in the world, and that includes navigating the streets of this small town on my way to the train station.

Upon reaching New York, I disembark at my usual station and begin my journey toward the imposing law firm building. The Big Apple is teeming with life, and as I walk along the bustling streets, I notice something I've experienced on many occasions before: all the dogs seem to fixate on me, both strays and those accompanied by their owners. They stare at me with unusual attention; their ears perk up, their tails wag, and, in some cases, they even seem to want to approach closer than their leashes allow.

This strange reaction from dogs always surprises me, but I've noticed it only happens at certain times, especially when I'm in my ovulation days. It's a strange coincidence and makes me feel uncomfortable. I have no idea why canines react this way to me on those particular days, but it's one of those little quirks in my life that I've never fully understood.

One of those bold dogs barks at me as I'm about to climb the stairs leading to the building's entrance, startling me.

"These mutts," I mutter, before continuing on my way.