The Alpha’s Choice

Irene “Today is Remembrance Day,” the woman said. Irene peeled her eyes from the chopping board and looked at the women that littered the kitchen. She wished Remembrance Day was something different from what it was. She wished it was a day of victory, of triumph but it was not and she hated every second of it. Remembrance Day came with the winds of grief. Onr could see it. One could taste it. It was stuck to the skin of every member of the Red Moon Pack. It was a taint on their might. A smear on the pride of all the pack stood for. Everything about it was pointless to Irene. She understood the concept behind it but she often questioned why they would knowingly plunge themselves into a sea of grief. It's not like they ever escaped it but why remember such a bloodied day? On days like this she wished she had died with her parents. She wished she did not have to survive the rogue attack. She wished she did not have so many problems and so little solutions. Every morning felt like a pain. She was grateful for her life but sometimes, on days like today, on morbid anniversaries like these, she couldn't help but wish to be with her parents - wherever they may be. Because while everyone else had a shoulder to lean on, a person to mourn with, she had no one. She was a shadow, a wolf relegated to the background of every person of the pack. While other pack members braved their grief with each other, she braved hers alone and it was always too much for her to bear. Too heavy to carry but she always smiled through it all. “Irene,” Madam Bibi called. “Yes, Madam.” Irene answered “You can have the day off. I know today is hard on all of us but it's hard on you most.” She could feel the eyes of the other kitchen staff settle on her. She hated that Madam Bibi did that; that she announced her in the presence of everyone. She should be grateful. She could use the time to cry, to mourn but somehow, she did not want to be alone today. She did not want to be haunted by the ghosts of her parents. She could always feel them on Remembrance Day. She could smell their perfume, she could hear their voice and almost taste their scent. “It is not-'' she caught herself before she said something that would have definitely earned me more workload than she could carry. “Thank you, madam.” She finished chopping the vegetables on the chopping board and then left the kitchen. Using the back passages of the Pack house, Irene made her way to her room. She shut the door and a sigh prayed past her lips as tears flooded her eyes. She missed them. She missed them so much. And nothing made sense. Why did they have to die? Why did they have to leave me? Questions that she often asked herself. Questions that no one could answer. She saw the way they all looked at me. They did not even try to hide it; they pitied her. The Alpha made her a beta and she wants nothing more than to see the pack progress and thrive and finally put an end to the menace that was the Rogues. But the Alpha can only do so much. The pack did not accept her. Her problems seemed to grow by the day but right now, she just wanted to cry. She just wanted to be undone. She had been carrying so much for so long and now she could feel the shoulders begin to fracture. She enjoyed the kitchen. She volunteered there because it reminded her of her mother. A woman she watched fade out because of some poisons of the Earth. She spent the day in her room. She couldn't sleep, she stared out the window as daylight bled into night. she could see the glow of candle lights from her windows. and she knew what that meant. she could no longer hide in her room. her status demanded that she showed up regardless of if she wanted to or not. She peeled herself out of her clothes and wore the customary white A-shaped gown for Remembrance Day. She brushed her golden brown hair and rolled it up into a bun. she stared herself down in the mirror and her reflection looked back at her. she looked at the wall she had put up. a mask that she had worn for years; a mask that now seems natural. a lie that was now an unbreakable truth. She walked out of her room and this time she did not hide behind the passages of the Pack house. She took the scenic route. the route that had marble floors that echoed her every step. the route that had golden lights and smelled of citrus and pine. Earlier she was a kitchen cooking staff but tonight, she was the beta of the Red Moon Pack. She stands beside the Alpha family. she would stride with regal steps if only her parents could see her now then everything she had sacrificed up to this moment would be worth it. But with all her success and achievements, she felt empty. But tonight was not the night for sulking. She had done it all afternoon. She needed to put her own sorrow aside and embrace the sorrows of her pack. She walked past the giant main doors of the pack house and she felt it. She felt the sorrow. It was like a ton of bricks but she did not falter. Her eyes were trained, focused and on the people and the Alpha family… Jake was not present. Again! The Alpha's son was absent again. Jake. She dismissed her thoughts of him and focused on what was at hand. Jake wasn't her responsibility. In any case, she was his. He would be Alpha soon - that was somewhat morbid considering what it entailed- but he should be there. Everyone was on white. Their candles lit up the night but also made the lines of pain and heartache visible. She hated that these people had so much pain in them. Even though they could lean on someone whilst she couldn't, she hated it. "Red Moon Pack," the Alpha's voice beamed through the crowd. The power it held was staggering. But it was also calming, sympathetic but not full of pity. She liked that. "Today, we remember our fallen brothers and sisters. Our flesh, our blood. The ones who laid their lives for us so that we may breathe the air they never got to breathe. That we may feel the sun and the pull of the moon. We honour them." Everyone had their eyes down. The Alpha's words were full of pain but his voice did not waver. Irene wondered if Jake could do that. She wondered if he knew he was going to be Alpha at all because she could swear that sometimes, he acted like his life was bound by the chains of leadership. "I know the Rogue still plague our borders but together we would make them pay. The sorrow and pain that they have meted upon us will be meted upon them in kind, I swear to you all." A red heat boiled from within Irene. She knew what she would do to any Rogue if she found any of them. But when she found the man that killed her father and caused her mother to die, she would rip him apart. She doesn't care if vengeance was what she truly sought above justice. To her it was the same thing. She would send him to the moon goddess in pieces and she would enjoy doing so. "Light your lanterns," the Alpha said. "May these lights guide the way of the departed." Floating lanterns lit up the night sky. They looked like tiny pockets of sun as they shined brightly into the dark blanket above. Irene knew that there wasn't a path for the dead. They were dead. They had nothing left to do. No where else to go and she knew that everyone here knew that but this… Ceremony was just that, a ceremony of sorts. A way to remember the dead but she wondered just how many of them truly remembered. Could they remember their faces, their scent, their laugh, their eyes? Somehow she knew that the Alpha already knew this. Death has a way not only still a person but also still their memory until they were nothing more than a figment, a shadow. A name with no face. She wondered if a time would come when the faces of her parents would be erased from her mind. It seemed impossible right now but she knew that the only thing that was cemented to the testaments of her heart was how complete she felt around them. If she forgets their faces, their voices she prayed that she never forgets that. She hoped she wouldn't. She heard the pack gasp in horror, pulling her from her thoughts. Her senses were set alive with fight but as quickly as it came, it vanished. Her Alpha was on the floor, eyes closed and limb. "No," she whispered.