When The Alpha Calls.

Beneath The Smoke.

I needed someone to talk to. This party, Jonathan, I just want to forget about it. God, I feel so alone. What’s the point of living if we can’t even be happy? Is there really any value in this life we call living?

It’s been so long that happiness feels like a memory I never really had. My innocence is gone, ripped away, and I know I’ll never get it back. All that’s left is the numbness.

And I can’t help but wonder: what if I continue like this? What if my life never gets better?

What should I do?

“Okay,” I answered with a nod.

I guess he was just as bored as I was. It wouldn’t hurt to sit with him for a while, right?

I followed him as he led the way through the party, past the clusters of people laughing and chatting. Neither of us spoke. We moved toward a quieter, more private corner inside the building.

I was excited.

That we get to spend more time talking with each other. It's not actually a big deal. Still, I don't care. I'm still good.

The bar tucked away in a shadowed alcove, warm and dimly lit.

Far from the noise and glitter of the party. He gestured to the high stools, and I took a seat, my heart beating faster than it should. Pierce sat beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him.

He leaned slightly toward the young man. “I’ll have your finest cocktail,” he said smoothly, “and something lighter for her.”

I looked at the barman’s raised eyebrows, but he said nothing and began preparing the drinks. I couldn’t help looking at Pierce. The way he relaxed, the way his fingers whisked the edge of the bar, the way his lips curved into that faint, unreadable smile.

“I heard the rogues are barging in once more,” he said. “I guess Jonathan's tactics didn't work on them.”

His gaze turned a little serious.

“What! They are barging in?”

I didn’t hear about that. I thought Jonathan and the elders of the clan were working on it.

“Yeah, they are.” He grabbed a piece of tissue from the carton beside him and wiped his hands. “I constructed another tactic to hold them down. It will work this time if they follow the procedure since I'm not around.” He dropped the folded tissue onto the bar counter. “The previous plan I created, Jonathan dismissed it and used his own. Since they've failed, I had to remake another one.”

“That…must not have been easy.”

Jonathan always likes to be in control.

“I'm second in command. I have to. They don't care. As long as I'm around.”

I always knew Jonathan was reckless, acting like a fool. Before the rogues began their attacks, I told him to come up with a sound plan to keep them from taking over the civilians.

Rogues are wolves who have broken away from a pack, living without rules or loyalty, and they often become dangerous when they get together. If they continue to grow in number, they will become more dangerous.

But Jonathan ignored my warnings. Instead, he created his own plan to deal with the rogues, who were multiplying rapidly, dismissing Pierce’s strategies because he wanted to stay in control of everything.

I just hope they stop it before things get worse.

“Sorry about that. The rogues have taken so many lives. Just because they aren't part of a pack, doesn't mean they have to hurt people.” I sighed. “I expected Jonathan to stop them before they take more lives.”

“They don't think like you.”

I faced him. He stared intensely at me.

“They do whatever they want to do to survive. If it's hurting people or destroying lives, they don't care.”

He took his pack of cigarettes from his suit, opened it and took one.

That is a Sobranie. He smokes those.

Wow… it actually looks kind of cool. The black paper, the gold filter, it’s unlike any cigarette I’ve seen before. Even the smell lingers differently. Sweet and heavy, almost decadent.

“And that’s why I hate staying within the clans. It’s suffocating.”

“You don’t like the pack… or the clan itself?”

“Both,” he muttered, striking a flame and lighting a Sobranie. The black paper and gold tip caught the glow for a second before fading into smoke.

No wonder he never sticks around for long. It’s obvious, he hates the pack.

The barman came and sat down two cocktails before Pierce and me.

“Enjoy.”

“Thank you.” I said.

“You are welcome.” He bowed a little and took a glass and started cleaning.

Pierce took a slow sip, ordered another drink, and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other with effortless elegance. I lifted my cocktail and tasted it, sweet, but not overly so. I’m not much of a sweet tooth, Luna.

We fell into comfortable silence. Pierce continued smoking, the smoke curling lazily around him. My mind wandered back to his words… What did he mean by “both”?

Oh, I remember now.

“Ummm…”

His gaze slowly fell on me.

“I just wanted to thank you… for what you did for Lucy. I really appreciate it. Truly.”

“It’s nothing.” He tapped the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray. “I did what I had to do. It’s not a big deal.”

“Thank you… really, thank you.” I said, my voice quiet but sincere.

“You’re welcome.”

For a while, we just sat in silence, letting the quiet stretch between us.

“I’m still surprised you remember Lucy’s anniversary.”

I let my eyes linger on him as I took another sip of the cocktail. My head got a little lighter.

“Jonathan… he hardly ever notices things like this. His mind is always on the clan, always on protecting everyone else. Sometimes I wonder if he even sees the people he’s trying to protect.”

I took another sip.

“He’s just a crazy bastard. He cares more about himself than his people. Everyone acts like… ‘Oh, he’s such a good alpha. He really loves the people.”

I mimicked the tone of their gossip, my voice sharp with bitterness.

“You really shouldn’t think too much. You should be happy you’re his wife.”

I stopped and faced Pierce, my hands trembling slightly despite my anger. His eyes softened as he listened, the tip of his Sobranie glowing in the dim light before curling into smoke.

“Can you believe it? They wish they were in my spot. They care only about money and power. But don’t care if you’re dying, or weeping, or anything at all. They don’t give a damn.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “When my daughter died, they told me to shut the f**k up and just give birth to another one. Just like that, as if getting pregnant was that easy. Who would want to carry another child for this monster, who sleeps with his secretary and—”

I swallowed hard, my voice catching.

“I know everything.” I whispered. “He always does this. He—”

“Neglects you.” He blurts out.