When The Alpha Calls.

I never realized. Not when I should have. Not that it would’ve made a difference anyway. While I was busy pretending, wearing smiles like shields, living a life that didn’t feel like mine, he was there. Always there. In the corners I never looked. In the silence between moments. I thought I was invisible. But to him, I never was. Pierce was always in the crowd. Just watching. And I… I gave him nothing. Not even a glance. Now, I can't stop thinking about him. Or get him out of my mind. What a mess. I placed the side dishes on the table in front of my husband and his buddies, apron tight around my waist, then walked away to the kitchen. From the counter, I picked up the jug of water and returned to the dining table to refill their glasses. His friends, pack members from the clan, had come to speak with Jonathan Mist, my husband, the Alpha. They were here about the rogues—vicious, lawless wolves who had begun attacking civilian homes, stealing from the weak and unguarded. Their goal? To unite the clans, raise our defenses, and train our soldiers ten times harder than usual. Because if the rogues kept coming while our fortress stayed this vulnerable, it wouldn't matter that we were the strongest pack in history. Strength without defense is suicide. They should know that. They should’ve acted long before the rogues ever touched a civilian. But I guess they’re just alphas, flaunting power, lost in their titles, too wrapped up in their egos to see the storm coming. “Rose.” Jonathan’s voice cut through the dining room, a sharp snap masked as a whisper. The conversation died. His guests looked at me, waiting, sensing something had just passed between us. I froze, the heavy jug of water still in my hands. I leaned forward, poured another water into Jonathan’s glass with trembling control, and stepped back, just enough to breathe. Jonathan didn’t say thank you. He didn’t even look at me. His jaw was tight. I’d seen that look before. Not here, not now. I told myself. Please. I turned away, slowly retreating toward the kitchen, but just as I passed the doorway, I heard one of them say it. “Shame Pierce couldn’t make it. His insight on rogue patterns is always valuable.” One of the visiting alphas let out with a low chuckle. I stopped. For a second, I didn’t breathe. No one noticed. They were too focused on the discussion, on the maps and patrol routes spread out on the table. But my heart dropped into my stomach. Pierce. He was supposed to be here. So why wasn’t he? He couldn't make it? That was strange. “ROSE.” Jonathan yelled out my name in anger. My heart skipped as I came rushing back to him with the jug in my hands. What is it? Wasn't it water that he wanted? “Get me champagne.” He commanded strongly. “I don’t want water.” He snapped. “Do I look like some sick bastard?” He said, growling at the glass of water beside him. Who only drinks water when they are sick? “No, I didn’t give you the water because I think you are sick.” I defended myself. “You drink water all the time, so—” His right fist banged on the table when he snarled at me. “Don’t talk to me when I’m talking.” If only I could tell him how he has the ugly face of a dog when he snarls at me. The world would fall apart. And I don’t want to get smacked in the face in front of his friends because that would get so embarrassing. It's best if I shut my mouth. I am his wife and the Luna of the Mist pack. My reputation is already on the edge. This is my punishment for marrying a useless alpha and the waste of a werewolf. I should have listened to Taila. He drinks water all the time. What is his problem? Why can’t he just say he doesn’t feel like taking water instead of getting mad at me? I forced out an apology when the atmosphere started getting tense. Better to fix things right than worsen the situation. “I’m sorry—” He cut me short. “Shut your slutty mouth and go get me champagne this instant.” “Yes, alpha.” I swallowed. One of his friends, Jack, a beta, joined in a chuckle as he grabbed a piece of chicken in his black suit from across the table. “Water is good for the body, Alpha Jonathan. It is for everyone and not for the sick.” He dropped the chicken on his plate. “You talk about it as if it's some disease.” “I hate drinking water, though.” His best friend, John, added. “I just drink it for the sake of my health. I don’t want my wife nagging my liver off. You know wives and their nagging. They never stop.” “Kidney stones will deal with your butt in the future,” Jack added with a chuckle. “Just leave me alone,” John retorted. “I want to enjoy my life. It’s Christmas Day. Everywhere’s buzzing.” Everyone laughed. His friends, always useless. All of them are the same. I walked back to the kitchen to get him champagne. Opened the fridge. Took out the green, chilled bottle. I returned to the dining table, popped the cork, and poured the champagne into his glass. They kept chattering, talking over one another like nothing else existed. I slipped away from the table, quietly. My hands trembled as I gripped the kitchen counter. And then the emotions I had caged in for hours finally broke free, spilling down my burning cheeks. Today of all days. Her death anniversary. John was right. Everywhere *was* buzzing. **December 25th, 2021.** The day my daughter died in a car accident. On Christmas Day. The day meant for joy, for love. What a cruel joke. I’d left the duplex that day to attend an important meeting. I had taken the maid with me. My daughter stayed behind, playing quietly, no one watching her closely enough—Until she wandered outside.