Nightmares of the Alpha

For the millionth time I’m running through these woods when suddenly I freeze. My fingernails are caked in blood and dirt, my heart racing and my feet unable to move beneath me. It’s always the same. In front of me, beyond the black waters of the lake I can hear the wolves. I’ve never seen them, but every night their howls get louder, more menacing. Behind me, the footsteps get closer as I struggle, willing my body to move. They move quickly - these women who chase me night after night, whose long bony fingers claw at me from the shadows of the trees, whose cackles will soon fill the air as once again I am unable to escape. It’s time. A leathery hand reaches out, grabbing my hair and jolting my leaden legs into action, but it’s too late. I’m on my knees. I know what I have to do and I know it will be futile in the end. I wrench my neck up, so my eyes lock with my captor’s as I bare my teeth and chew through the witch’s fingers. Once again her thick, dark blood bubbles up, filling my mouth with a putrid taste and spilling down my chin as her bones crunch under the desperate grinding of my teeth. Second by second as each digit comes loose and falls from my matted hair, I know I am that much closer to freedom and also to my demise. It always happens this way. I rise from my knees and sprint toward the lake, toward the howling. As terrifying as that sound is, it is better than the fate waiting here, but I never make it. Not once in all these years. Before I can drag myself more than a few yards forward, her sisters are upon me. They inch closer and I crouch down, squeezing my eyes shut and covering my ears against their cackles. Soon my world will fade to darkness and they will have won again. My skin crawls in anticipation of their hands on me, tearing at me, but the pain never comes... Slowly, I bring my hands up in a defensive stance. Silence. Their sickening cackles have quieted and even the leaves do not rustle in the wind. When I open my eyes, my tormentors are gone, but in their place is a sight that stops my racing heart. A rowboat floats on the lake and balancing at the helm is a man. He is gorgeous, but his features are not kind. The witches are finally gone, but I don’t feel safe. His stormy eyes are locked on mine. I feel trapped and exposed under his icy stare, like a rat in a cage. His gaze is steady as his irises flash to a menacing black and he growls “MINE!”