The Replacement Aplha

Thomas

*** Flashback***

***Grade 9*** 

 Ben took a step into the room. 

His scent drifted towards me, the same strange combination of earth and metal that I had experienced earlier that day in the common room at school. Now it was mixed with an overlying masculine odor- cologne?

 “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said in his deep, smooth voice. 

It was evident that he had put in an effort to improve his already handsome appearance. His dark hair was tousled with hair gel. He had changed out of his Hollister shirt and replaced it with a grey button-up top that contrasted nicely with his dark jeans. 

The buttons of the shirt looked like they were holding on for dear life as they strained to keep the fabric covering his muscular chest.  

“I didn’t think you’d be coming home,” Thomas said slowly and cautiously, using a tone in which one would use when approaching a dangerous animal.   

“I have a date tonight, so I thought I’d try to improve perfection… if it’s even possible,” Ben shot at him. 

“Since when have you ever gone out of your way to impress a girl?” Thomas almost laughed. 

Ben shrugged. “I’m taking Lead Warrior Jason’s cousin, Alexi, out. She’s quite the girl, so I decided to make a good impression.”

Thomas rolled his eyes.

 “So, what do you think of my look, Scar?” Ben asked, turning his attention back towards me. 

He moved closer again, and suddenly the large theatre room shrunk in size. I was painfully aware of how close he was getting. 

He was the hunter, and I was his prey.

 I stepped backwards once, attempting to increase the distance between us. 

Abruptly, Thomas took a protective stride in front of me, blocking Ben. Even though he several inches shorter than his brother, and was outweighed by him by at least 50 pounds, he still lifted his head high and puffed out his chest. 

The air became electric wish hostility. Ben shoved his face so close to Thomas’ that I knew he would be feeling his brother’s angry breath on his cheek. Ben’s eyes turned yellow when he realized, however uneasy Thomas might be, he wasn’t backing down. In his hands, he grasped his Wii remote tightly, ready to use it as a weapon, if required. 

I stood behind my friend, feeling weak and useless. 

A few agonizing seconds went by without either of them saying a word. 

Finally, Thomas broke the silence and calmly said, “Your socks are in the laundry room. I saw them there this morning. One of the housekeepers must have washed them.” 

Ben relaxed after hearing this. His muscular jaw unclenched, and he pulled his face away from his brother’s. I saw Thomas’ shoulders slacken from their tense position. 

 “Don’t worry, Thom, I’m not going to touch a hair on her pretty head,” he grinned at me, “at least, not until we’re mated.”

Thomas glared but said nothing. When Ben saw that his comment was not going to elicit an emotional response from his brother, he turned away and started exiting the room. 

Before he left, he turned to me one last time and stared right into my eyes while he smirked and said: “Virgins are my favorite.” 

***Present day***

I pulled my Kia into a staff parking spot at the hospital. The structure was a small, plane brick building with a tidy lawn. Neatly trimmed trees lined that path to the front entryway. 

As I stepped towards the automatic front doors of the hospital, I was greeted by a sign taped to the glass door that said ‘Wash your hands, ya filthy animals’. I chuckled, and for a split moment, almost forgot about the nervous fluttering in my stomach.

The doors slid open, exposing the sterile white walls and front desk of the hospital lobby. 

“Hi,” I greeted the young, bored looking receptionist.  

She didn’t even look up from her fashion magazine that was spread out in front of her when she said, “please fill out a form.” She tapped a manicured finger on the clipboard sitting on the desk. 

“No, I uh… I’m Scarlet Brookes, the new intern,” I stammered. 

This finally got her to tare her eyes away from the article that was titled ’10 hot bikinis that he will LOVE’ and focus on me. She stood up from her desk. 

“Hi, Healer Scarlet,” she beamed, much more enthusiastically. She shook my hand. “I’m Victoria, the front desk receptionist here. It’s nice to meet you!” 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I smiled at her. 

She had delicate features and short brown hair that was clipped back with a neon barrette. Her size and the haircut she was sporting reminded me of a dainty fairy. 

“Wow, I know this might be a weird thing to say, but ohmygosh you are so pretty!” she gushed. 

I turned red and mumbled a thanks. 

“Anyway, I’ll take you to Healer Michael,” she said, then started off down the hall. 

I followed closely behind, noting the decorative wolf art that was strung up on the walls, giving color to the white, bleak corridor. 

We passed through a set of swinging doors then took a left. It opened up to a busy room with bustling Assistant Healers wearing bright colored scrubs. 

Victoria led me to a door and knocked gently. When no response came, she opened it and gestured that I take a seat in one of the empty chairs in the small room. 

“This is Healer Micheal’s office. He will be with you as soon as he can. As you probably saw, we’re quite busy today. Well- we’re quite busy every day.” 

She left me alone then, allowing me to study the cramped space. 

Unlike the rest of the hospital, the room was painted a bright blue. A wooden desk was pushed up near a small window with metal curtains. On the desk, papers were askew in a messy pile and several picture frames displayed a cheerful family with two small pups. 

After five minutes, the middle-aged man that I had deducted was the father of the family featured in all of the photos entered the room. 

His hair was black with the first signs of grey along his temples. His blue eyes looked kind but tired. The 5 o’clock shadow on his face and the redness in his eyes were further evidence of his exhaustion. 

“It’s great to finally meet you, Scarlett,” he pumped a few squirts of hand sanitizer and rubbed his hands vigorously before shaking mine, “It’s nice to be able put a face to a name.”

“Well, I’m happy to be here,” I remarked.

“Trust me, we’re happy to have you. To be honest, we’re quite desperate. There hasn’t been a new Healer in the pack since… well, since me. And in that time, we’ve had two other Healers retire.” 

He paused and smoothed out a wrinkle in his shirt. 

“There will be some forms to fill out,” he continued, “you know, wolf resource papers and such. But we’ll have to start that later. We’re swarmed today and could use every helping hand – or paw – that we can get.”

“I understand,” I remarked. 

“Awesome. Your scrubs are in the closet right outside my office. The two doctors here, myself and Lead Healer Clifford, wear blue scrubs while the Assistant Healers pretty much wear any other colors.”

He handed me a chart off of his desk. 

“I’ll get you started on a young shewolf who had her shifting ceremony last night. Apparently, there was a bit of an accident and she’s been waiting in emerg ever since. I wish I could oversee you’re first patient with you, but I promise I’ll come in to double check after you are finished with her.” 

And with that, he was out the door again. 

I had to take a deep breath. This was all moving much faster than I had expected. I had seen patients at the Healer’s College, but it was always under supervision of one of the teachers. 

It felt similar to if I was learning to swim and they thought that the best way to teach me was to throw me overboard into the deepest part of the ocean and instructed me to make it back to shore on my own. 

As much as I wanted to panic, however, I didn’t have time. 

I changed into my scrubs in the nearest bathroom stall and threw my blonde hair into a messy bun. Looking down at the chart, I was able to determine which room the young shewolf was waiting in. 

“Finally!” my patient said immediately after I walked into the Healer’s room. She was sitting on the bench that was covered in flimsy protective paper. She had a large eyepatch over her left eye and a woman, who I assumed to be her mother, was grasping her right hand tightly. 

“I’ve only been waiting… like 10 hours!” she cried out in a high pitched - almost hysterical - squeal. 

“Emily please,” the woman cooed at her daughter, “getting upset is not going to help. The Healer’s here now, isn’t she?”

“Actually, I’m an intern, you can call me Scarlett,” I said, and not wasting any time, I hastily rushed over to the sink and sanitized my hands.

“Great, so not a real Healer,” Emily said.

 I ignored her.

 “It hurts SO BAD,” Emily then whined. 

She was an attractive girl, even though she was a little too skinny which made her nose seem larger and more pointed. The outfit that she was wearing was likely from her ceremony from the night before. Her hair was a tangled mess that looked so stiff from hairspray that it could probably be snapped into two pieces. 

“So, what happened?” I asked, approaching the girl. 

“After I shifted, I was running through the forest and scratched my eye on a stupid twig that came out of nowhere.” 

“It was bleeding terribly,” her mother chimed in, “we rushed to the hospital. The Assistant Healer gave us this eyepatch, but she said a Healer ought to have a look at it.” 

“What a terrible way to spend your shifting ceremony,” I said sympathetically. 

“Ugh I know right?” Emily sobbed, “and this eyepatch makes me look like a deranged pirate.” 

I examined the exterior skin around the patch before asking her to remove the bandage. There was a clean-cut laceration across her upper and lower eyelid, but when I got her to open her eye, there was no sign of an abrasion across her cornea. She must have closed her eye right at the perfect moment. 

“Good news,” I cheerfully said to her, “it looks like it missed your eyeball.” 

“Yeah, but is there going to be a horrible, disfiguring scar?” Emily asked. 

I had to refrain myself from letting a stunned gasp. Is that all she cared about? How she was going to appear?

“It might take a few weeks, but there shouldn’t be much of a scar, it’s not too deep. I’ll prescribe Blue Grass Root which has an antibiotic property,” I managed to say in a level voice. 

Big, wet, crocodile tears started running down Emily’s slender cheeks.

“Thomas’s birthday party is tomorrow!” She shouted and turned to her mother, “Mom, I’m going to look like Frankenstein!” 

My heart skipped a beat. Thomas? Thomas Cauley? 

Her mother appeared genuinely concerned and pressed her thin lips together tightly before saying, “we will cover it up with makeup, Emily, don’t worry.” 

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” I cautioned, “it would increase the risk of infection.” 

Emily and her mother nodded, but I doubted either of them would listen to my advice. After all, the girl was more concerned about how she looked than if she was going to lose vision in one of her eyes. 

After I wrote out the prescription, I fetched Healer Michael and he confirmed my diagnoses and management, signed the prescription, and sent the mother and daughter pair on their way. 

While he was interacting with the patients, I admired his friendly and kind demeanor. Even weary, Healer Michael had a natural talent when it came to patient care. 

The rest of my shift was uneventful. Elders coming in for prescription renewals, pregnant women, and a few patients with mild colds made up the remainder of my day. 

That was, until my last patient. 

As I picked up the final chart off of Healer Michael’s desk, I couldn’t believe my eyes. At first, I thought they were playing a trick on me, that I was having some sort of hallucination caused by my agonising past and the manner in which I abandoned it. 

There, in plane black ink written across the paper was a single name. 

Thomas Cauley. 

SR