Taking Down the Alpha King

Mirror

Two weeks ago

"WHAT ARE THESE?"

I held the glowing orb in my hands. My wolf eyes were struggling to focus; the light the creatures emitted was too strong for my pupils to comprehend.

“Fairies.” Harry prodded the small creature. It stretched in my palm, shaking dust from the span of its wings. “Careful not to breathe it in just yet,” Harry cautioned. “It will irritate you something fierce, boyyo. Just watch how they move. See the trail they make?” He pointed to the effervescent glow, like phosphorus staining every surface of my hand they touched. It would fade after several seconds, but you could feel the residue. “That’s what we’re looking for,” Harry continued. “That will eventually look like salt in your hand. That’s the form we use to make our vials.” A cold wind snapped around our shoulders, making the tiny being shudder inside my hands. Cradling it carefully, I gently lowered it into the tightly wired cage set just below our digging area. The snow was piling high, so Harry had brought warm wattle bottles for the cages, and had placed ripped pieces of cotton fluff in the corners for the comfort of those we collected.

The education I was receiving had completely rocked my world. Not only were the mythical beings real, we also “milked” them in order to make illegal, alternative world drugs. “So, what do the vials do, exactly? Is that what you stabbed me with on that first day?” The day that had changed my life. I remembered the fog that had been around my brain. It was so intense, my body wasn't even able to create dreams. The surge that initially ran through my veins felt like fire from an extreme caffeine overdose.

Harry nodded his head before gently placing another fairy into the wired cage. “It’s useful in many forms. Completely concentrated, it acts as a tranquilizer to our kind. It’s helpful for when Rowland goes on a binge.” He chuckled before seeing my face. “Sorry, lad.” He grumbled. “If we mix the dust with inhalants, it creates the closest thing to steroids that wolves can absorb.” Wolves apparently burned up anything foreign injected into the body. We couldn't have tattoos because our skin healed over the design. We never got sick because the bacteria couldn't live in our higher-than-average body heat.

He led us through the flaps of the tent back out to the frozen landscape. I hadn’t worn a shirt in days, the cold barely registering as the wind snapped around us. It was wild for me, since Alaska was all I had ever known. The unbearable cold that cracked your skin and isolated you from civilization. The constant digging around your cars and tires to travel. I thought about Ben's ridiculous parka that had been so necessary just a few months ago. Now, the thought of bundling under something made my upper lip start sweating. I didn't think I could stomach it now.

“This is how we live, then? Off the products of the fairies? And that’s why it’s important to find more?” Making the connections in my head were getting harder. It was like someone handing you a book, telling you to memorize it in a day, and then giving you multiple tests within 24 hours.

“More or less,” Harry confirmed. “Rowland has built quite an empire. We are the sole provider of fairy products on this side of the country. You’ll notice—” he pointed to the tent on the southeast side that was constantly transporting boxes. “The shipping tents. We distribute it all down the mountains, even as far as Mexico on some routes. We trade for either cash in the human realm, or Ravka for the Black World.” His eyes clouded over with the admission of the second currency. “You don’t need to know what that is.”

I had been working on not intruding into people’s minds without an invitation, but some thoughts were so loud, you couldn’t look past them. “What do you mean Ravka is marked in blood?” It was as clear as a picture to me, this currency he was trying to shush. The black coins had a red 'R' carved through the middle. In my mind, I could see him handing the pieces over to a seller, weighing out the amounts to the comparable amounts of dust.

“Shhhh!” He clapped his hairy hand over my mouth. “Do you want me to get killed?” Lowering his voice, he tried to quell the shouts of his mind. “I’ll tell ya when you can handle it, all right? For now, let’s just get through tracking. That’s what I need you to focus on.” Please, he pleaded. If Rowland hears you thinking about Ravka, it'll be my head to roll. Then who will you bunk with, Typhus?

I hadn’t quit thinking about Harry's thoughts earlier, or anything else he had told me. I knew I was supposed to bury everything deep in the burrows of my brain, but it was so easy to keep them close to the surface just to bring them out and inspect them from time to time. Plus, Rowland was back in Portland for a few weeks, so I felt safe. Examining the currency and the projected picture that he had offered up involuntarily one more time, I decided to let it rest. It was a mystery, but one I was willing to try and solve. Why couldn't I know? Was it just because of the black market and the underworld in which we lived or was it something more sinister?

Walking around the camp during my little bit of free time, I found a tree that looked rather inviting. Nobody had dug the roots of it out yet. I could perch near the base and just... be. For days it had been nothing but digging, and lectures from Harry. Wolves were tough, but I could feel rough patches forming on my hands from the shovel friction. When we weren't hunting, we gathered to eat in the tent for our dinner shift. The 30-45 minutes we had were absolute torture. I was tired, hungry, and completely over being called a mutt by every conscious person around. The exercises I was supposed to be doing were hard. The blocking of other's thoughts required constant concentration and full body engagement. Peace was worth it, but I wasn't nearly strong enough.

And then the prophecy. My mind had been swirling for days. It was just...that I didn’t understand what the prophecy had to do with me, or the Black World. The only captive creatures I was aware of were the ones they kept in the tents on the corner of the field. The fairies. Everyone else seemed to be here of their own free will...of course, with the exception of me.

How I longed to be back in my old house, with my old routine, and old mediocre existence. Poptarts for dinner because Dad was on the trails, and Finn catching between the strides of my steps because he just needed love and attention. I missed school, and my friends, and ever that salty secretary. I just didn’t know now if I could leave and control myself back in the “human realm.” My fangs still dropped every time an aggressive thought plagued my mind.

And I couldn’t exactly be shirtless when I got to school.

AND my face had apparently changed drastically…along with every other part of my body with the transformation.

AND it was hard to see things when my emotions were out of whack, which was basically all the time. Blurred vision was a side effect, apparently, of having super powerful werewolf eyes that could pinpoint a falling bird fifty feet away. But you know. Get too happy, and suddenly I was walking blind. Shuddering, my shoulders hunched. Nothing about me was normal anymore.

My best friend was a talking half-human goat. The girl I had fallen in love with was a supernatural being that had found me disgusting since the change, and my dad was probably dead. Pretty much sums up my fall semester of school this year. My head hanging even lower, I started to feel a little sorry for myself. “If Dad hadn’t been so nosy, he wouldn’t have disappeared.” I had found myself muttering that lately. How could he have chosen his job over me? Didn’t he know I needed him?

It didn’t make sense. And just like that, my vision blurred, and my fangs were dropping. “Geeze!” I slapped the snow. “Can I just have like, 10 uninterrupted seconds!?”

“OK, fine!” My head shot up as I watched Reule’s hands shrug to the side. “Throw a pity party by yourself.” She spun on her heel, marching away, when I felt my legs spring from under me. Her long silver hair caught by the breeze hugged to her figure.

“Wait!” I called. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know you…” ...were listening in. Or that you cared.

Chuckling, her slim arms came to rest across her abdomen. Her thin, black long-sleeved tee wrapped down to her wrists. “I know.” Her brow lifted expectantly. “I could…feel you.” She shrugged as if that was reason enough to approach me. The toe of her shiny black boot dug slightly into the snow. “It seemed like you might be experiencing some…unwanted emotions.” There was something close to a flicker of empathy that shaded her eyes. “I’ve lost a parent, too. And it sucks. I wouldn’t mind losing the other one,” she laughed before her eyes went as round as bowling balls. “Don’t remember that I said that," panic hitched her voice up an octave.

I didn’t know whether to laugh, or what. So, I stared dumbly at her while she awkwardly thumbed the edge of her shirt. Clearing my throat, I offered, “I remember you telling me you lost your mother.”

“I told you that?” Her eyes crinkled. “When?” I noticed the way her mouth turned up at the corners when she spoke of something she liked. It was nice, like she was holding a secret just out of reach, but ready to tell it at any moment.

“One of the days we went hiking.” I shrugged. The day you held my hand. The day I thought the sun would quit spinning in the sky because the girl of my dreams was closer to me than ever before. The day I registered pine to be my favorite smell, and green to be my new favorite color because of how her eyes sparkled.

Her tongue flicked out, wetting her bottom lip. I couldn’t help but stare at how pink her lips were. They were thin, the bottom just slightly fuller than the top. It was hard not to stare at her, even as angry as I had been at her. She was breathtaking.

“Well,” she shrugged, pulling me out of my thoughts. Her weight shifting from foot to foot, she was silent for a minute before blurting, “It sucks. It doesn’t matter how much time passes, or how you try to convince yourself that you’re better off—you always miss them.” Everything she said was true. There were days now that were so intense I couldn't breathe. My dad was my everything.

“I miss my dad the most,” I admitted. “I loved my mom, but I honestly try not to think about her.” I studied the tip of her shoe snugly dipped in the snow. “I just wish I knew where he was.” Mom had been gone a long time, so thinking about her only made me depressed. Thinking about Dad made me angry. I was pissed we were in this situation. I missed him, but it was almost second to every other emotion.

Her body shifted, marking her unease. The tips of her silver hair picked up with the wind, blowing her sweet smell in my direction. I tried not to inhale, and I begged my body not to react.

I still hated her.

I still…hated her.

I STILL hated her!

I wasn’t hating her.

My body was reacting, and I NEEDED to hate her.

Clearing my throat, I was suddenly very conscious that I didn’t have a shirt on. My hands came to clap over my n*****s, horror rounding my eyes. “Uhm, I just remembered something.” My voice cracked as my legs started to slowly drag backwards.

Reule let a small giggle escape. “Relax,” she breathed. “You’re not the first naked werewolf I’ve ever seen.” The way her eyes lingered on my chest did little to relieve the sensations coursing through my body.

“I’m sure,” I offered, my voice still hoarse, knowing well the men that lived in the camp. “But this is the first time I’ve ever been in front of a girl without a shirt on. Ever. Consciously," I added. "Anyways."

A grin split her face. “Just be happy we’re not back in Portland. The girls there would be…” She brought her hands up, motioning a circle around my body, “…all over this.”

My eyebrows shot up. “No,” I grimaced. “I doubt they’d be into a wolf-boy that uses his canines to open soda cans.”

“You’d be surprised.” She gave me another brilliant smile. “Have you looked in a mirror since your change? Dremelda has made some spicy comments about you,” she teased.

Honestly, I hadn’t. The thought of examining myself face to face hadn’t crossed my mind since I was so consumed with every other outward change. “No,” I shook my head.

“Follow me,” she giggled again. I loved the sound of it. It was lyrical, like music, her laugh. She walked the short distance to her tent, and held the black flap open for me to enter. I was struck by what I saw.

It was sparse, obviously, but cozy somehow. She had a small fire pit in the middle, with a camping chair perched next to it. Her cot stretched out upon a handsome piece of fur that was covered in pink and white fuzzy blankets. And the books! Boxes upon boxes of them were everywhere.

“You, erhm, like to read?” I said, thumbing the spine of an embroidered blue linen.

“Yeah,” she blushed, moving a pile of clothes to a hamper by the front of the tent. “It’s kind of my thing, I guess. Anyways, the reason we’re here,” she pointed to a lone standing glass next to the cot. “Check yourself out.”

N​ervousness shot through my veins. I wasn't sure what to expect. I knew my perspective had changed. My body was bigger, since none of my old clothes fit. Stepping as gingerly as I could before the mirror, my breath caught in a rush. "Whoa!" I didn't expect this shock.

"​Yeah," she giggled. "It's pretty insane what it'll do to a person."

I​ looked like me, but I wasn't me. I had muscles that I'd never worked for. Where I had been scrawny before was replaced with brawn. My arms flexed under my scrutiny, showing off where my incredible strength had come from. My skin had taken an olive tone, the texture surprisingly smooth. My chin had filled out, making me look well past my age. My dark hair was darker, but there was a shine to it that I hadn't put there. "I thought I'd look..."

"Scarier?" She laughed again. "Yeah. Not everybody turns out as good as you."

"So you've seen more people like me come through?" My eyebrow hitched. This was something I needed to hear.

"​Not many. Maybe five over the course of my lifetime that I've actually interacted with." She shrugged. "You just got lucky, I guess. The moon goddess must've liked you."

O​r wanted me for supernatural reasons. I stilled. I knew she couldn't read my mind, but that thought needed to be buried deeper. It couldn't be that close to the surface. "Lucky is one word for it," I half chuckled. "If I were in school now, I could have any girl I wanted." Seeing her face change in surprise, I hastily added, "Not that I'd want just any girl." I tried to fix it. "Certain girls. You know. Good ones."

"​Good ones?" She questioned. "What does that even mean?" Her arms came to cross back across her chest. Gone was her easy manner. Standing in front of me was an angry vixen.

"​You know!" My hands worked in a flustered flap. "Ones that are worth your time and affection!"

B​oth of her brows lifted. "You mean, unlike me?" She jabbed.

"​No, that's not at all what I meant." I paused. "Well, sorta, I guess--"

"​No need to clarify. I was a waste of time." Her body had changed, her temper rising. I tried to focus in on her thoughts, but was too internally conflicted to tune in specifically.

"​Stop twisting my words," I grumbled. "I just didn't expect to be here at this point in my life. And to have been...betrayed by the girl I liked." They said honesty was the best policy. Not in this situation.

U​nderstanding donned in her eyes. Her beautiful features sharpened as a cold took over her senses. "Well, it seems you were pretty stupid then. How in the world would someone like me ever have liked someone like you?"

S​pinning on my heel, I stormed to the front of the tent. "You're right," I hurled over my shoulder. "It was pretty stupid to like someone as pretentious and snotty as you. I wouldn't like you now if you were the last female on earth!" I felt like spitting on the ground. How dare she!

S​he single-handedly had taken the one nice, almost normal moment that I'd had in months, and ruined it. That's what she did. She ruined everything.

A​nd I would never forgive her for it.