The Lost Alpha

Arguments and Force

A few hours later, I raced out to my car. I didn't want to look at anyone. I didn't want anyone to look at me. I slammed the door closed and gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white with the force. I took a few shaky breaths, trying to slow my heart rate.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" The voice asked, clearly annoyed.

"You need to tell me what is happening." I said out loud. I didn't know which was crazier, arguing in my head or out loud to no one. At least people outside would think I was on Bluetooth and not talking to myself.

"How do you not know what is happening?" The voice asked. "You're twenty-one. You should have been prepared for this."

"I'm not twenty-one. I'm twenty. My birthday isn't until next month."

"No, your birthday is today. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. Your wolf appears at the exact time and day of your birth."

"My wolf?" I asked incredulously. This was insane. "I have no idea what you're talking about. You're in my head. Take a look around and you'll see I'm totally clueless. You’re going to have to start explaining yourself."

"Hmm," I could feel this wolf peering around my brain. "It looks like you haven't been raised with your pack."

"My pack?"

"You have a lot to learn." The wolf commented. I could feel her shaking her head.

"You could start by explaining everything you're trying to tell me." I snapped. This was frustrating. Not only did I have a voice in my head telling me they were ‘my wolf’, but now they were talking about things that didn't make any sense.

"Well, first off, you're a werewolf.”

"A what?"

"A werewolf."

"Werewolves don't exist. They're fictional monsters in myths and books." I responded.

"Except every culture in the world has some sort of folklore about them." The voice responded.

"Yeah, folklore. In reality, it was people with mental disorders that were left untreated and then villainized when they had psychotic breaks." I argued.

"So, that means they just don't exist? I'd argue that one just by being here."

"You are a voice in my head. Nothing more."

"How about you try shifting and then tell me I'm just a voice in your head." I could feel the presence roll its eyes at me.

"Shifting? That's not possible. I'm a human. I have always been a human. I will always be a human." I paused. "Who are you anyway?"

"My name is Faolan."

"What type of name is that?"

"It means ‘little wolf’." She told me.

"So, not only are you a figment of my imagination, but you're also a small figment. That's comforting." I said sarcastically.

"I may be small, but I am fierce." Faolan growled at me. "I am meant to be a leader, a warrior. Others will underestimate me, and they will die for it."

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm done with this conversation."

"I'm not going away."

"If I don't believe you exist, then you don't."

"Let me know how that goes."

I turned the music up and concentrated only on that. I didn't want to think about the voice in my head or the MCATs. I didn't want to think about anything anymore.

I spent the weekend actively ignoring Faolan. Which was difficult because she was inside my head and I could hear her voice over anything I tried to do - while I was reading, or listening to music, or even when I was trying to talk to someone. So, I had to devote a large part of my brain power to ignoring her. But by Sunday night, Faolan had enough.

"You need to listen to me!" She yelled in my head, making me sit straight up in bed. I looked at the clock and groaned.

"It is two a.m." I snapped. "I want to sleep!"

"We don't have that luxury at the moment." Faolan growled at me. "We need to shift, and we need to do it now."

"I don't even know what that means! I don't know what you are talking about."

"You would if you listened to me!" She was furious. "The longer you wait to shift, the weaker I get."

"So, does that mean if I don't shift, you'll just disappear?" I asked, a little hopeful.

"No." Faolan shattered my hope with one work. "If I weaken, you weaken. And when you finally get weak enough, you and I will both die."

"This is just my brain trying to trick me." I ran my hands through my hair in aggravation. "This is just the craziness trying to convince me this is real. It's not real."

"Enough of this!" Faolan yelled, making me grip my head in pain. "You've left me no choice!"

I felt it in my jaw first. I would have yelled out, but the pain was so much I couldn't breathe. My jaw dislocated and elongated. Fangs pushed through my gums. My knees felt like they were being blown apart as they reversed direction. My vision and hearing changed. I was so hyperaware of everything around me now. I could hear ants walking around outside, birds preening themselves in the trees.

I jumped down from my bed, landing on the floor on all fours. Faolan was in total control of my mind and body. She walked us over to the full-length mirror hanging on my closet door. Jet black fur covered my body. The only thing left of my human form was my gray eyes, bright against the darkness. We were small, no bigger than a border collie. But we were beautiful.

"Believe me now?" Faolan asked.

"I'm dreaming." I argued. "I have to be dreaming."

"When have dreams been so painful?" Faolan asked, staring at our reflection. "You want more proof?"

The pain started again. It wasn't as bad as before, but God, did it still hurt. I transformed back into a human, standing in front of the mirror, stark naked. I glanced back at the bed, at the shredded remains of the clothes I had been wearing.

"That was my favorite shirt." I grumbled.

"That's what you get for ignoring me."

"So, what now?" I asked, grabbing another shirt from my dresser and a pair of underwear. "What does this all mean?"

"You would have known if you had grown up in a pack." Faolan responded. "You would have known everything already."

"Okay, well that's not something I could control." I rolled my eyes. "The only family I've ever known is my father, and apparently, he isn't a werewolf because if he was, he would have prepared me for this."

"What about your mother?" Faolan asked.

"The only thing I know about my mother is that she died when I was born." I shrugged. "Dad won't say anything else about her."

"Are you sure that's the truth?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" I asked. "He's never lied to me."

"That's what you think."

"Okay, I'm not having a conversation about my father. He has nothing to do with this." I snapped angrily. "I just need to know what I'm supposed to do now."

"Now, we find our pack."